HP: Night of the Wolf

Perseus looked on proudly as the men, women, and even creatures that had allied themselves with Gellert stood in a pleasing formation, the work he had done with them over the past few months on display for their leader to inspect for himself.

It had been no easy task.

Although there were some very talented individuals amongst them, there were others that were not cut out for combat. Those had been given other roles under the direction of suitable professions, and not only did they now have a strong and ever-growing fighting force, but they also had other necessary groups that even Gellert may not have even considered.

If he had, he hadn't shared his thoughts with Perseus, and the former Black heir used the authority gifted to him to cover as many eventualities as he could.

"I must say that I am impressed," Gellert commented as he stood next to Perseus. "When I asked you to prepare them, I did not expect you to do so with such passion."

"If we are going to succeed, we will need an army. I hope as well as you do that it is not necessary, but there will be resistance from those that fail to see your vision."

Gellert nodded his agreement.

He had spoken often of his desire to persevere without creating a war amongst the magical population, but the more time that passed, the more unrealistic that was becoming.

"I am seeing many groups here, Perseus. Perhaps you can explain to me what they represent."

"Of course," Perseus agreed eagerly, gesturing for Gellert to follow him across the breadth of the large field they had liberated. It had taken much work to ward it satisfactorily, a task he had given to the first group they paused in front of. "These are your cursebreakers. They will be invaluable in dealing with warded areas, and unexpected curses we may come across, if you are not available to personally see to it."

Gellert nodded appreciatively.

"And what about these oddly dressed people?" he asked nodding towards a group of around fifty who were covered from head to toe in red robes, a plain black mask concealing their features.

"A unit I had not even thought about until I put them together," Perseus declared proudly. "I will not ask them to demonstrate what they can do, but these are your pyromancers, each of them an expert with fire spells."

"Experts?" Gellert asked curiously.

Perseus nodded.

"I can assure you that our enemies will grow to fear them, Gellert. They are a force to be reckoned with."

"I will take your word for it," Gellert replied, "but why the robes?"

"Ah, well that brings us on to our next section," Perseus explained, leading Gellert to a gathering of witches and wizards only a short distance away. "They are all very well-versed in charms and some are even particularly gifted with enchantments. They are currently working on uniforms that will offer the best protection to our fighters."

"My, you have put a lot of thought into this," Gellert mused aloud.

"I have," Perseus replied solemnly.

"And we will be all the better for your efforts," Gellert offered. "Continue, Perseus. Show me the rest of the fruits of your labour."

Perseus obliged, coming to a stop in a sizable gap in the ranks.

"Although they are on duty as you would wish for them to be, our healers will stand here, ready to administer treatment to those that need it."

"Naturally," Gellert acknowledged, "and this gentleman?"

Perseus's nose wrinkled at the smell that filled it, the man before him stooped over, and caked in filth. All but a single tooth remained in his mouth that was opened in a twisted smile, his yellowing eyes matching his claw-like fingernails in colour.

"This is Osbert, he is a beast master. Tell Gellert what you can do for him."

The hunched man offered a feeble bow, his grin unwavering.

"I can provide an army of creatures for you, my lord," he said in a wheezy voice. "Giants, acromantula, and perhaps even dragons and nundus if you require them. Whatever you need, I can provide."

"Then provide all you can," Gellert urged. "Creatures can be replaced much easier than men."

"I will, my lord," Osbert assured him, offering another bow as Gellert and Perseus walked towards the largest group of gathered witches and wizards.

"This is the bulk of our force," Perseus explained. "I am working on a specialist unit also, but they are not ready yet. They will be when they are needed, however, they require more work."

"A special force?"

"To combat the Hit-Wizards and any other unpleasant surprises that may be sprung upon us."

Gellert nodded thoughtfully.

"I am deeply impressed, Perseus. How did you know of all this?"

"Mostly from books," Perseus said with a shrug, "and some from the men here. Many of them fought in the first war and are a wealth of knowledge."

Gellert beamed at him.

"That is why you will be an effective leader. You know when to defer to those of vaster experience."

"Leader?" Perseus asked.

"You didn't think that I would have you do this for you not to lead my forces into battle?"

"I would be honoured to," Perseus replied keenly.

"I thought you might. Come, let us have lunch and celebrate your wondrous achievement. I'm sure your father will be just as proud of you as I am."

"And what about Cassie? Have you still not heard from her?"

Gellert shook his head.

"No, but it is not unusual for her to be silent whilst she is completing a task, though it troubles me that she has seemingly discovered nothing as yet. It matters not, I'm certain she will have an explanation when she returns to us. I know that your father is keen to see her."

"When he remembers that she isn't here," Perseus grumbled.

He was becoming more and more concerned with his father's health. Orion was not a well man, something that could no longer be ignored.

"He will be fine, Perseus," Gellert said reassuringly. "I'm sure one of the many healers you have recruited will be able to assist him."

Perseus nodded.

"I will arrange for him to be checked over. He will not like it, but it is for his own good."

"I believe that would be for the best," Gellert replied. "Now, tell me, have you heard from Hans in the last few days?"

Perseus grimaced at the thought of the enormous German. If truth be told, he was intimidated by Gaulitier who was, by all accounts, a monster in every sense of the word.

"He sent a message that he had arrived in Geneva but there has been no sign of him."

"Give it time, Perseus. The Serpent will be unable to resist such prey."

"But what if Hans is captured?"

Gellert frowned.

"Then it proves that he was too eager for his own good, that The Serpent is beyond the Beast of Berlin."

(Break)

Acquiring the ring had proven to be no difficult feat. Morfin Gaunt was barely sane, living in his own filth, and had not even raised his wand to defend himself. It had been as simple as wandering onto the property, stunning the odd man, and taking what he wanted.

Not that Morfin would miss it. Harry had transfigured a perfect replica that he had replaced the original with and modified the man's memories.

Still, he felt somewhat guilty for doing so, and had not left the last of the Gaunts helpless.

Should Tom visit him in the future, he would be greeted by quite an unpleasant surprise, as he would he if attempted to attack the Riddles.

Both would be safe from a young Voldemort. Perhaps not forever, but for the years to come at the very least, he would not be able to cause them harm.

Returning to Little Hangelton had been a sobering experience in itself. Having stepped into the graveyard in which Voldemort had been reborn, Harry felt like the very same fourteen-year-old that had watched a friend be murdered and barely escape with his own life.

For all of a fleeting second, he felt that same sense of helplessness, only for it to fade as he reminded himself that he was not that little boy anymore, that he was not so helpless, and that when the time came for hi and Voldemort to cross wands once more, he would be ready.

Even so, he did not like the feeling of vulnerability that had washed over him, nor the memories coming to the forefront of his mind of the pale man bearing down on him in such a way that he could do nothing.

It was a feeling he had left behind long ago now. He had grown into manhood, had dedicated himself to being prepared for the one moment that would determine who would live or die when fate decreed they should meet again.

No, Harry was no longer a scared boy.

Here he was in Geneva spying on one of Grindelwald's most devout and dangerous followers, though he could not shake the niggling feeling that something was wrong.

Gaulitier was not as simple as he appeared. He was an intelligent man, and not one to risk being out in the open as he was without good reason, not when he was wanted in seven different countries.

Something was amiss, and although Harry was watching him closely, he too felt that he was being watched, or there were others lurking, waiting for someone to make an attempt on the German.

He snorted to himself.

A trap.

Gaulitier was attempting to spring a trap on him or any other Hit-Wizard that favoured the odds they'd face in a fight with him.

"Not today," Harry murmured to himself.

He would likely never get such an opportunity gifted to him again, but there were too many unknowns, too many variables that he did not have time to mitigate or prepare for.

For now, Gaulitier would remain free. Not because Harry feared him but because he had other things to attend to that he would not miss.

Augusta would be marrying in only a few days, and he had preparations to make.

The bride would never forgive him if he missed it, and Minerva would likely come looking for him herself.

He chuckled at the thought before activating his portkey.

He'd promised that he would only be here for a few days when Federov had informed him of Gaulitier's presence, and his time was up.

He would not risk upsetting either Minerva or Augusta by being as rash and reckless as he had several other times throughout his life.

No. Gaulitier and any other of the wanted criminals would wait for him.

Little on the continent would change in the coming days, not with how quiet things had become.

The silence did concern Harry, but not so much that he felt that anything was to happen imminently.

Grindelwald was somewhere on this land making his preparations, but he was not yet ready to make his next move.

It would come, and there would be little that could be done to stop him, something that was a source of frustration for Harry.

For him and Federov, they were merely playing a waiting game, one that did not sit well with them, but one that was born from necessity.

Still, the ICW refused to act, and until Grindelwald had made enough moves against them to provoke an overdue reaction, the game would continue.

In the interim, Harry would fulfil his duties, carry on the seemingly never-ending task of rounding up the world's most unpleasant men and women, but not today.

Today, he was going home to attend the wedding of a dear friend.

(Break)

With Arcturus having already visited here at their father's behest, Cassiopeia had found no reason to follow in his footsteps. He had done as had been asked, had reported his findings, and as far as she had been concerned, had been truthful with them.

She knew her brother, knew when he was being misleading or outright lying. He had been neither when she had discussed the Gaunts with him.

Nevertheless, she had arrived in Little Hangelton, all her other enquiries into who this Serpent may be having been for nought. Not even a whisper of the man was spoken in Britain, not in the popular eateries and pubs in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley.

Not even in the least savoury of slum bars in Knockturn Alley.

Cassiopeia, however, was not one to admit defeat.

She didn't know what she could hope to achieve by being here, but eventually, she had given in to the impulse to visit. Perhaps she felt that there was more to the Gaunts than the tales of inbreeding and ill-tempered heads of families her father had told her and her siblings about during the times he would take them aside to teach them their duties to etiquette? Or maybe that she was simply curious to see the man for herself.

The Gaunts had once been a family held in such esteem as the Blacks amongst their pureblood peers, but no longer. To Cassiopeia, they stood now as an example that no matter how mighty your lineage or legacy, any could fall from grace.

The Gaunts had.

Hailing from a line as revered as any, they had fallen and amounted now to nothing more than a point of humour or disgust when spoken of, the once great Slytherin family reduced to a simple man living in a hovel.

She shook her head at the thought as she passed through the muggle dwellings of the village, some of the houses small and neglected, and others enormous and pristine.

To her, it mattered not how the beasts lived. They were not fit to breathe the same air.

Even peering through the gap in an unkept hedge at what remained of the Gaunt home did not change her mind.

How the mighty had fallen indeed.

There was no sign of life, not that she could see much more than the broken roof and crooked chimney over the shrubbery that had grown so tall from neglect.

She even suspected the in the months that Arcturus had visited, that last of the Gaunts may well have perished here.

Tentatively, she sniffed the air for any sign of decay.

Nothing.

All she could smell was the grass, damp from recent rainfall.

Cassiopeia released a deep sigh.

It was no good. She would learn nothing from her vantage point and would have to venture on to the property, something she was reluctant to do.

Drawing and waving her wand, the gap she had used to spy through was widened and she stepped through, only to come to a sudden stop.

Something had disturbed the grass ahead of her, something big.

Holding her breath but keeping her wand ready, she waited for any further sign of it.

For several moments she remained there and began to wonder if it had been nothing more than the wind that had blown in suddenly.

She shook her head.

No, the wind did not disturb plant life in such a pattern.

Tentatively, she took another step forward, yelping as she only just managed to avoid the lunging serpent that had struck at her.

This was no ordinary serpent of scales, fangs, and emotionless eyes. This snake had come from below the ground and was made of dirt, stones and the grass standing so tall before her.

An impressive piece of magic, and one that made Cassiopeia wary.

She had seen animated golems and the like before, but nothing like this. The charms and transfiguration to create such a thing was excellent, and those were merely the basic required for this type of magic.

With the family she was dealing with here, she could only guess the protections they had at their disposal. The magic was as old as it came, older than that of her own line.

It struck again.

Missing her with its earthen fangs once more, Cassiopeia breathed a sigh of relief, only to find herself on her back, her robes torn and muddied as it swept her legs from beneath her with its tail.

"WHAT ARE YOU!" she screeched.

The reply she received was a deep hissing, one that filled her with unease.

Parselmagic.

The Serpent had used it against Gellert's forces, a branch her mentor knew nothing about. He had acquired several books on it since the emergence of the thrice blasted hit-wizard, but his efforts to decipher the language were to no avail.

One had to be gifted with the ability to wield it or converse with serpents. Gellert had learned, much to his fury, that it could not be learned.

Springing nimbly to her feet, she unleashed a stream of black fire from the tip of her wand that slowly but surely reduced the grass to a blanket of ash. Now, her attacker would not be able to use it to ambush her.

"Oi, what are you doing here you mad cow?" a voice demanded.

Cassiopeia turned to see that a man in threadbare robes had appeared from the dilapidated shack, his wand in one hand, and a long, rusty knife in the other.

"I came to speak with you and your dirty great snake attacked me!" Cassiopeia replied indignantly.

"Little snakey wouldn't," the man denied, shaking his head vigorously as he held up a small garden snake. "Little snakey would never!"

He began hissing inaudibly, his eyes filled with the same madness she had seen within members of her own family, and as he brought his wand to bare, the ash around him came to life.

It coalesced until it formed another enormous serpent, this one coiled protectively around its' master.

Cassiopeia groaned as the man smirked, his eyes wide in awe at the magic surrounding him.

In what she could only deem to be a whisper of disbelief, he hissed again, the snake rearing up as he did so, poising itself to strike her down.

Panicked, Cassiopeia did the only thing she could think of doing in that moment and apparated away.

She found herself on the other side of the hedge, in the lane she had walked down to reach the Gaunt property.

Oddly, the thicket she had removed with her wand to enter was back where it had been, leaving only the small gap she had peered through.

Stranger yet, her robes were bereft of the small tears and grass stains that had marred them after her tumble, and all that remained was a dull, pulsating headache.

It was as though she had not truly experienced what had happened so vividly.

Unable to ignore her curiosity, she approached the bushes and looked through the gap once more, the surprise overwhelming to see the grass having returned to its former glory, and no sign of the maniacal Morfin Gaunt.

"What happened?" she murmured to herself, prodding the bushes cautiously with her wand.

A deep, displeased hissing filled the air and Cassiopeia stepped back.

Whatever was here, she would not risk provoking it again.

She prided herself at being quite gifted with wards and other protective magics, but this was nothing like Cassiopeia had ever come across.

This was magic she simply did not understand.

It mattered not.

She had merely visited to sate her own curiosity, and with neither that being done or having obtained any relevant information that could lead Gellert to The Serpent, her journey here proved to have been a wasted one.

(Break)

Charlus clapped and cheered along with the other guests as Augusta and Frank sealed their vows with a searing kiss, causing the more conservative amongst them to blush embarrassedly.

Augusta paid them no mind and Charlus grinned to himself.

She would never change. During their school years, it had been her and Poppy who could become quite flirty, and Minerva also when the mood struck her, though the Scot reserved that honour for a certain green-eyed boy who had joined them in their last two years at Hogwarts.

"She looks happy," Harry commented, pulling him from his thoughts.

Charlus snorted.

"I never would have imagined," he replied. "You didn't know her before sixth year. If you had, you'd understand why we are all so surprised that she ended up with Frank. Before him, her type was more like McLaggen. I'm sure you haven't forgotten him."

Harry grimaced at his few memories of the older boy. He really had been a prat.

"Anyway, let's not dwell on that moron."

"Why isn't he here?" Harry asked. "Every other pureblood family seems to have someone here."

"His aunt is over there," Charlus explained. "The one with the…"

He held both of his hands up to his chest to indicate what he meant instead of speaking his observations aloud.

"Bloody hell, she's got them out like eggs on a plate," Tiberius said gleefully.

"Absolutely no subtlety that one," William sighed as Poppy chastised Ogden, though the man was smirking amusedly. "Anyway, you don't want to get caught commenting on certain, er, attributes of Ms McLaggen. She might well try to marry you. I'd rather not try to navigate that mess."

Charlus's nose wrinkled in displeasure at the thought.

"You wouldn't."

William smiled deviously.

"I could if I wanted to," he mused aloud, "but no. So far, I have managed to avoid discussing the topic of your marriage with your mother. I won't be able to do so forever," he added pointedly, taking his wife by the arm and following the departing crowd from the room.

"Looks like your time may be up sooner than you thought," Harry commented. "You know, I think I saw Dorea here."

"Shut up," Charlus grumbled, checking to see that no one was attempting to listen in on their conversation. "Arcturus is here too."

"Well, maybe someone could distract him for a few moments whilst you share a dance with her. Unless you're a chicken?"

Charlus scowled at Harry, not rising to the bait.

"Bloody, Evans," he muttered.

"And what has he done now?" Minerva sighed, arriving from where she had been standing at the front of the room with the wedding party during the ceremony.

"Nothing," Charlus huffed. "Just Harry being Harry."

Minerva raised a delicate eyebrow at the other man and was met with an innocent smile.

She hummed in disbelief as she looped her arm through his.

"I do hope you're behaving."

"Yeah right," Charlus snorted.

"I am," Harry assured her. "I was just giving the chicken here some advice."

Minerva shot a questioning look at Charlus who was evidently considering the merit of cursing Harry. Instead, he chuckled before placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Better a chicken than a clueless idiot," he returned before following the rest of the guests into the adjoining dining room.

"What did he mean by that?" Harry asked confusedly.

"I have no idea," Minerva shrugged, following in the Potter heir's wake.

"Well, they've certainly put on a spread," Charlus commented as they joined him, Tiberius, Lord and Lady Ogden, Poppy, and the other Potters at their allocated table.

To Charlus, it was a typical pureblood affair, a demonstration of the wealth of both families. The result was a rather resplendently planned meal which got underway as soon as all the guests had found their seats.

"Ergh, it's cold," Tiberius said unhappily, pointing his spoon at his soup.

"It's supposed to be cold, you uncultured swine," Poppy giggled. "It's called gazpacho. It's a cold soup."

Tiberius shook his head disapprovingly as his father laughed.

"You did say she had a sharp tongue."

Poppy flushed, evidently having forgotten that Lord Ogden was here.

"Sorry," she offered.

The man waved her off amusedly.

"Merlin knows we have tried to get him to sample other foods of the world that are not in the form of a sausage," he explained. "Perhaps I should consider Mr Dupont's offer. A French wife would certainly broaden your palette."

Tiberius merely nodded.

"You're looking further afield for a bride for him?" William asked.

Lord Ogden frowned thoughtfully.

"It's not something I was considering initially, not until we visited Dupont's vineyards earlier this year. Tiberius and his daughter Maria got on well, and they are a well-respected family in France," he pointed out. "Besides, there is little choice in young ladies here, Will. We did have an offer from Selwyn for one of his nieces but her and Tiberius would not be a suitable match. If truth be told, I would not like my family tied to theirs any closer than it already is."

William nodded his understanding.

"I had the same offer," he sighed causing Charlus's eyes to widen. "I declined," William assured him. "There's just something about Selwyn I do not trust."

"You felt that too?" Lord Ogden asked.

"I did. He seems to be desperate to align himself with as many prominent families as he can. Did you know he tried to strike a deal with Longbottom under Fawley's nose?"

"After the contract was signed?"

William nodded.

"The nerve of that man," Ogden mumbled. "I'm surprised Longbottom didn't throttle him."

William chuckled.

The Lord Longbottom was a large, burly man, and not one to cross lightly. Selwyn must be desperate to make such a bold move.

"He would have considered it at least. Selwyn should be grateful that the Lady Longbottom has a much cooler head than her husband. Anyway, let us not discuss Selwyn whilst we are eating. The thought of the man turns my stomach and I'm quite enjoying this."

"Agreed," Ogden replied. "What about young Charlus here. Are there any ladies that have taken his fancy?"

Angelica huffed frustratedly.

"Whenever we even mention the prospect of marriage, Charlus conveniently has to leave the room."

William laughed, though his wife did not see the humour in the situation.

"Come on love, he is only nineteen. There's no rush for him to be married."

"He seems to have inherited your attitude towards marriage, Will," Lord Ogden chuckled. "If I remember correctly, you and my cousin here didn't marry until you were twenty-five."

"True," William acknowledged, "but not for lack of trying from both our fathers. They would have had us married when we were twenty."

"And you're very lucky that I waited for you, William Potter," Angelica replied, taking a sip of her wine. "You weren't the only man that wished to marry me."

"But none of them were me," William returned with a smirk. "I knew you'd wait. Besides, we are married. We were talking about Charlus."

"Well, you don't seem to have any urgency in seeing him wed," Angelica muttered.

"Can we not talk about this?" Charlus groaned, "and you can stop grinning Evans."

"I wasn't," Harry denied, unable to hide his amusement. "I'm just glad I don't have the same problems as you."

"I'm sure I could find you a suitable bride," Angelica offered, her eyes alight with excitement at the thought.

Harry shook his head vigorously.

"What would the rest of this lot think if you found me a bride before your own son? They'd assume something was wrong with him. No, we can't have that. Someone has to be lumbered with the git first."

William laughed as Charlus aimed a kick at his friend. Angelica, however, seemed concerned by that very thought.

"What if they do, Will?" she asked worriedly.

William released a deep sigh as he took his wife's hand.

"They do not," he assured her. "Harry is only trying to deflect wedding talk away from him."

Angelica nodded, narrowing her eyes at the smiling Harry.

"Your time will come," she warned. "I hope whoever ends up marrying you has patience. She will need it."

"I can't even deny that," Harry agreed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please be stood whilst the bride and groom share their first dance," a voice from the front of the room where the dancefloor was situated requested.

Any further conversation was put to an end as Augusta and Frank took to the floor, the latter pulling the beaming woman into his arms as the orchestra struck up a suitable song.

Charlus couldn't be happier for the interruption. His mother was becoming more insistent by the week that he marries, and as he glanced across the room at the one girl that occupied his thoughts, he began to wonder just how much longer he could avoid it.

Dorea seemed to sense that she was being watched, and their eyes met briefly, a smile gracing her lips when she realised it was him.

"What is she doing here?" Minerva's voice broke into his thoughts.

She was looking towards the door where another had entered, a woman he didn't know but her appearance was unmistakable. She was a Black, and there was only possibility at who this could be.

"How do you know Cassiopeia?" Charlus asked curiously.

Minerva wasn't pleased by the woman's presence, her nostrils flaring slightly as she answered.

"She was having lunch with her brother when Harry and I were in The Three Broomsticks," she explained. "We spent more than an hour in her company after she invited us to join them."

Charlus snorted.

"I can imagine that was an experience."

"One I will not remember fondly," Minerva grumbled. "She is an unpleasant woman."

"Well, from what I've heard, you're lucky she didn't try to curse you. Did you know she was put on trial for attacking muggles? She was caught doing it by the aurors but she wasn't convicted. I reckon old Orion made some threats and handed over some gold to make sure of that, and why is she coming over here?"

Charlus could only watch as Cassiopeia Black walked boldly towards them, to Harry specifically, and offered her his hand.

"I would like you to dance with me, Evans."

She hadn't asked, nor had she demanded as such, but she had been assertive.

Not knowing what to do in the situation, Harry simply nodded and followed the older woman onto the dancefloor where she wrapped her arms around his neck the same way one would to another they were intimately familiar with.

"What in Merlin's name is that about?" William asked.

He was concerned by the unexpected occurrence, less so than Arcturus who looked to be seething as he glared at his older sister.

"I don't know," Charlus sighed, his gaze shifting to Minerva, and though the situation was quite volatile, he could not help but feel amused at the poorly hidden look of envy she wore.

(Break)

"Now, don't get any ideas, Evans," Cassiopeia warned. "Keep your hands where they are, and I won't have to remove them. Don't look like that, I'm doing you a favour."

"A favour?"

Cassiopeia nodded.

"I heard Viola Selwyn say that she was going to ask you to dance. I think I make for a much better choice of partner, don't you?"

Harry looked over the woman's shoulder to see a rodent-like girl eying them both quite angrily.

"I don't know, she's not so bad," he replied.

Cassiopeia tutted and twirled gracefully so that Harry could no longer see the Selwyn girl.

"If I had any modicum of interest in you, I might be offended," she returned evenly, "but no, I suppose I'm doing us both a favour here."

"How so?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well, me dancing with you ensures that no one else will try to dance with me and get the wrong idea that I am available to them," she explained.

"I don't see how that is doing me any favours."

"For the same reason," Cassiopeia huffed impatiently. "You do not wish to find yourself in a position where you cannot decline a dance with someone from a higher social standing than you, do you?"

"I already did."

Cassiopeia grinned in response.

"I meant with someone who may actually be interested in you," she clarified. "From what I have heard, there are some that would be willing to put their family scruples aside to have you wed one of their daughters."

"Who's been saying that?"

"Just things I've heard whilst out and about," Cassiopeia replied cryptically. "Even though you're a half-blood, your connection to the Flamels is quite desirable. Speaking of which, do you not think it is risky for you to be in public without a guard? I myself know of a few people that would pay a considerable sum of gold to have you at their mercy. Then we would see just how much your uncle cares for you."

Harry chuckled.

"What makes you think I have no guard? Better yet, what makes you think I am so helpless?"

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at him before nodding appreciatively.

"Arcturus told me that you are capable with your wand, but I would have to see for myself before I make that kind of judgement. Not that I am threatening you mind, but there are those that would."

Harry snorted.

"Even if someone did manage to take me for ransom, it wouldn't work. My uncle is under strict instructions to not comply with anyone's demands. My life is certainly not worth the stone."

Cassiopeia nodded appreciatively.

"I can respect such a level of ruthlessness," she replied. "That still wouldn't stop people from trying. A colleague of mine is not particularly fond of Flamels work. Killing you would take little effort on his part."

"Is this one of your friends on the continent?"

"It is," Cassiopeia confirmed. "As brilliant and as dangerous as they come."

Even though she was speaking casually, she could not hide the admiration in her eyes.

"Well, you could always tell your friend about me. I'm not so difficult to find. We've met twice already, and that was by chance."

Cassiopeia giggled.

"Perhaps I will, but I wouldn't expect much of a response. His ambition is much bigger than that of someone like you, Evans."

"Well, that certainly hurt my feelings," Harry chuckled. "And there was you saying only a moment ago that I was quite desirable."

"You are, but there are much bigger things than you happening in the world, Evans," Cassiopeia replied pointedly. "Britain is such a small place. You should venture out of it and see for yourself."

"Perhaps I will one day."

"You should," Cassiopeia urged. "I could even introduce you to some rather interesting people. I'm sure I could convince them to not attempt to harm you," she added with a grin. "Now, be a good boy and return me to my brother. If we spend any longer dancing, he will lose his temper."

Harry did so, the suspicions he had about the woman being all but confirmed.

If Grindelwald saw Nicholas as a potential enemy, he could be in danger.

Harry would need to visit the Flamels soon to speak with them. He had intended to do so already to discuss the hallows with the man. He didn't know what Nicholas's knowledge on them would be, but there was certainly no other with as much experience in obscure magic than the alchemist.

"Black," he greeted Arcturus as they reached him and his younger sister, handing Cassiopeia back to him.

"Evans," Arcturus said stiffly, his stern gaze on his sibling. "I was hoping to perhaps have a word with you in private."

"Of course," Harry agreed, gesturing for the man to lead the way away from the other guests. As he left, he caught Charlus's eye and nodded towards Dorea who would now be without the presence of her brother.

"What the hell was that about?" Arcturus demanded.

"I don't know," Harry answered thoughtfully. "I think your sister just tried to recruit me."

Arcturus stiffened at his words and deflated after a moment.

"Shit," he muttered unhappily.

"I won't pretend to understand what is happening in your family, Black, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out who she was trying to recruit me for. You do not agree with what she is doing."

It wasn't a question. Harry had already deduced her prerogative.

"I do not," Arcturus sighed. "I am aware that certain members of my family have made some poor choices and have turned their backs on our country. I have washed my hands of them. I would appreciate your discretion on the matter. I would not be telling you had she not all but forced my hand. I will not have anyone thinking that I approve of their actions."

"No one will hear it from me," Harry assured him, his respect for the other man growing considerably.

"No, I couldn't care less what they do or what happens to them. Dorea is my only concern. She is not like the rest of us, well not outwardly at least. She is a sweet girl who will do a damned sight more than just live off the family wealth. She wishes to be a healer," he explained.

Harry smiled at the revelation.

"Doesn't that put you in a difficult position? Won't there be expectations for her to marry as soon as she finishes school?"

"The rest of the bastards in there can forget their expectations," Arcturus declared. "I will not sell her off like a prized pig just because it is expected of me. No, I would see that she is happy, and being a healer is what she wants."

"I can respect that," Harry mused aloud. "I might not have much family of my own, but I get it."

"You'll be about the only one, Evans," Arcturus grumbled as he led them back inside, "and no offense, your opinion means little to me."

"None taken," Harry chuckled. "I don't really understand this pureblood stuff. Just out of interest, what would have happened if I had refused a dance with your sister?"

"There would be a lot of offended people in there," Arcturus explained. "You may be well thought of by many, but the purebloods do not forget a slight. You made the right choice in there, Evans, even if you should be concerned. My older sister used to be a sweet girl but lost her way when our mother died. It changed her Evans, and I say this as a favour to you. Watch yourself around her. She is like a snake that likes to toy with her food. When she tires of you, she will devour you in a most gruesome fashion."

"I'll remember that."

"You should, she… why is Potter dancing with my sister?"

Harry smirked to himself before placing a hand on Arcturus's shoulder.

"She is a very attractive girl," he commented, "she was bound to be asked by someone. Rather him than some of the others here. At least you know he is respectful."

Arcturus frowned as he nodded, seemingly lost in thought, and Harry took the opportunity to return to his own group, giving Charlus a nod of approval as he passed him and Dorea on the dancefloor.

(Break)

"Poor Harry," William mumbled. "What was discussed at this lunch?"

"Nothing that would lead to her wanting to dance with him," Minerva replied unhappily.

She had been hoping that Harry would wish to dance with her, but with Cassiopeia Black intervening as she had, that was now very unlikely.

"Not that he had any choice," Charlus pointed out. "He couldn't exactly say no to her, could he?"

William shook his head.

"It would be considered very rude to do so. He made the only choice he had available to him."

The words of the Potter patriarch offered little comfort to Minerva who was filled with disgust at seeing the woman's arms wrapped around Harry's neck.

"You might want to stop glaring, Minnie," Charlus advised.

"I wasn't," Minerva denied.

"Tell that to your own face."

Minerva frowned at the man whose eyes had widened. She turned to see Harry had led Cassiopeia back to her brother, whom he was now leaving the room with.

"Will he be in trouble?" she asked.

"No, Arcturus will understand the position he was in. Excuse me for a moment."

Minerva looked on in surprise as Charlus nervously approached the younger of the Black sisters. A brief exchange of words took place between the two before he led the blushing girl onto the dancefloor, the older of the sisters watching them speculatively.

"Damn it, Charlus," William sighed. "Is there something going on between the two of them?"

Minerva shrugged.

She had never seen them even speak. She knew that Harry and Charlus had assisted her when McLaggen and his ilk had attacked the poor girl, but she knew of no other interaction between them.

"Well, I hope not," William mumbled. "A Black and a Potter have never been wed, and for good reasons. Our beliefs and morals are too different for a possible match."

"It's just a dance, Will," Angelica comforted. "Charlus is only being a gentleman, the way you taught him to be. How many others in here would ask the poor girl to dance with how protective that brother of hers is?"

William hummed, though he was not pleased by what he was seeing, and neither was Arcturus as far as Minerva could tell.

He had returned with Harry, a look of displeasure marring his features as he looked upon his sister and Charlus.

Oddly, he relaxed when Harry offered a few words before he headed back towards them.

She felt herself become suddenly nervous, though there was still a rather petty part of her that was unhappy with him dancing with Cassiopeia, even if he didn't have a choice.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" she asked a little harsher than intended.

Harry was taken aback by her demeanour, but smiled, nonetheless.

"Well, if you consider being threatened an enjoyable experience, then I had a wonderful time."

"Why would she threaten you?" William broke in.

Harry shrugged.

"It was a veiled threat against my aunt and uncle, but it still concerns me. Anyway, that's something for me to discuss with them. Would you like to dance?"

"Me?" Minerva asked.

"No, I meant Lord Potter here, but I suppose we'd have to do that when there isn't much of an audience. I don't suppose people would approve."

William laughed heartily at the dry humour, but Minerva was not amused.

Raising an eyebrow, she offered Harry her hand which he accepted with a smile.

She was still unimpressed with what had transpired, but him asking warmed her, and she certainly would not say no to him.

If she were honest with herself, this was what she had been looking forward to most about today, and she was not going to allow Cassiopeia Black to ruin it for her.