Harry Potter collapsed onto the nearest couch and rubbed his temples. The last few days were harsh, to say the least. Between reviewing documents, planning his trip to the Potter Family Vaults, talking with Ragnok to see how the donation was going, discussing the improvements his businesses needed with Rome and Ploutos and what other ideas could be implemented... honestly, school was the perfect hobby to distract himself from all his duties.

"Here," Theo said, handing the exhausted teenager a cup of tea.

"Thanks... Any new development on Maxime's murder?" Harry asked Marcus, who was reviewing a few documents.

"Nothing, but Fleur's father managed to catch a few whispers from the Beauxbatons staff regarding how out of character Maxime was acting in the months before arriving at Hogwarts."

"I doubt there's a person powerful enough to cast a long-term Imperius on a half-giant," Cedric said, looking perplexed at the ludicrous idea.

"The possibility of loyalty potions exists," Victor added, "though they would have needed to find a way of forcing her to consume it... Also, someone could have been blackmailing her."

"Moody proposed all those theories and even more," Marcus sighed and slumped in his seat. "He interviewed the house-elves in charge of her and examined every millimetre of her living space, finding nothing. Well, that's not quite right... While he examined the fireplace, he found an almost completely burnt piece of parchment and it contained a single name: Alex Dumont."

"Isn't that the other person that one of the judges sold information to?" Adrian asked, frowning at the strange enigma that appeared.

"That's the one," the eldest male confirmed. "We searched high and low and it's easy to conclude that the name is an alias. There are no eyewitnesses or any further clues. Moody's frustrated because he has a feeling that this will be troublesome... Anyway, now that I'm in charge of improving the security of the classified archives, I have free reign of the whole place. I'm using that to get the blueprints of the Department of Mysteries so we can plan a raid without endangering ourselves. It's going slow because, even with the help of the elves, the place is a mess."

"Mum received the information you sent her," Justin commented. "She's fascinated with the Cruciatus and how it-"

"Do you remember the room I dreamt about?" Luna asked, not even noticing she interrupted her friend. "The room full of gossiping orbs. The one that tried to warn me is trying to warn someone else... It mentions a bond that is broken, but every time it speaks, it loses its light."

"How are we supposed to know the meaning of that?" George groaned in response.

"Divination was perhaps the most useless class we took," Fred muttered.

"We can worry about that later," Harry announced after taking a sip of his tea. "We have enough to do as it is... I've waited for our new members to adapt to the Court before informing them about all our activities," the boy announced, earning the attention of the whole room. "I want you to know that none of you is forced to participate in any of our plans, but we appreciate discretion. As you know, the Guild preceded the Court. As the original members, we had no great plans aside from making Slytherin the House of exemplary students and immaculate conduct. Somehow this evolved and our objectives extended beyond the walls of this school," the boy narrated, his silvery tone enticing the people in the room.

"Perhaps it changed when we noticed how stagnant and prejudiced the magical society is," Daphne continued when Harry nodded at her. "Perhaps everything changed during the Hogsmeade attack last year, when we noticed that we were the last line of defence against the Death Eaters... Or maybe it was sooner, when we realized we were more than willing to do what was necessary in order to protect each other."

"What Daphne said is right. We do what is necessary to protect each other and our goals in the process," Harry stated and looked at the four newest members.

"My father was a loyal Death Eater," Adrian began explaining. "He's no Lucius Malfoy, but he has influence in the Ministry... I decided to lace his tea with the Draught of the Living Dead and, since that day, my elf has been impersonating him."

"Both of my parents are also loyal Death Eaters," Terrence admitted with a sigh. "They convinced my eldest brother to take the mark and my other brother fled the country. They have no power in the Ministry and no abundant economic resources either, so they are no real threat. I decided to leave the house and now they are under the belief that I'm studying abroad."

"My parents are loyal Death Eaters," Marcus announced and no one seemed to be surprised. "They are a threat, even if it's minor. Therefore, we took the necessary steps to ensure they were neutralized. As you may remember, the summer of 1993 was marked by the mass breakout from Azkaban. My father was hosting two of the fugitives and even went so far to kidnap a healer that I managed to rescue. A week later, I ordered Tubby to dose them with loyalty potions. We decided that he would be the spy within Voldemort's ranks. However, they are no longer useful and will be dealt with accordingly."

"As I said, you are not forced to participate in our plans, but we hope you don't disclose our activities to outsiders," Harry concluded, looking at the new members. "You heard about our past actions and our plans for the future, but I will state them once again for all of you to know what you are getting into. During my first year, the Slytherin Guild was formed in an effort to change the House, something that worked remarkably well despite a few setbacks. As the leaders, it is our responsibility to reward and, unfortunately, also to punish all of those who break the rules. During my third year, Dementors and Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade. The only ones fighting back were the people who worked in my businesses, but because of the bystanders, their effectiveness was limited. On the other hand, Death Eaters didn't have the same hurdle. Luna knew something would happen and we took the necessary measures to be able to evacuate the students in case of an emergency, not counting on the villagers being unable to defend themselves.

"That was the moment in which we decided to interfere. Honestly, we didn't have the necessary training and the only reason why all of us are here today is because we didn't hold back. We used curses that the Ministry classified as dark and that gave us the element of surprise against the attackers. A few months ago, Luna had a feeling and we knew that something would happen. We took all precautions possible and our efforts paid off. We confronted Voldemort and his lackeys during the World Cup... It wasn't easy. Despite our training, they have more experience than we do. However, we had superior gear and the element of surprise on our side."

"You all know about the strange rooms in the castle," Luna began explaining once Harry looked at her. "Since that day I've had dreams about the fairy hunts and the experiments the Ministry performed on them in order to create the time turners. Ever since, we've been trying to get more information about the Department of Mysteries, and only now Marcus managed to get more details and time to make an appropriate plan. We will raid the Ministry and destroy the Department of Mysteries."

"We will also oppose Voldemort in an active way, which means we will confront Death Eaters sooner or later. You must understand what you are getting into so I will not sugar-coat the truth: you may lose your lives in one of the battles... I must ask you, are you willing to join?"

"We would have to be brainless dunces if we did not notice," Fleur said after a few seconds of silence. "You told us what happened during the Quidditch World Cup, we have all read the last Queen's journal... I know the Court will change the magical world and I will be part of it."

"I knew what I was getting into from the beginning," Cedric announced, wearing a smirk. "I'm not backing down."

"Yeah, me neither," Viktor agreed.

"I realized not long ago," Justin murmured. "I know that our goals are ambitious and we may be in danger. Be as it may, there is no way I'm leaving the Court."

The tense atmosphere vanished and Luna giggled in delight, with many others following her example.

"There's a specific reason I wanted to speak about this," Harry said after a minute. "It's because of you, Viktor. There's nothing wrong," the teen began explaining at the Bulgarian's puzzled expression, "but it's something important. You've told us about your mother and I want to offer you a solution. Of course, we won't force you to agree and we'll think about other options... Bond with your elves during the Yule - if they've already bonded with someone, then one of my friends can help you. Your father can be dosed with the Draught of the Living Death and an elf can impersonate him. This way, your family's political power will remain intact in your country and your mother will be able to be free."

"I will speak with my mother about it," Viktor promised. "The least I want to do is disappoint her, so if she doesn't like the idea, I will tell you."

"Perfect, ask Professor Flitwick to arrange a portkey."

"That means you won't spend Yule with us," Hestia accused the older student, probing his side with a finger.

"We will have many more in the future," the boy promised, mussing the girl's hair.

"Damn it!" Draco yelled, rummaging through his backpack in almost frantic movement and surprising his friends. "Here it is!" he said triumphantly as a worn notebook was taken out. "I found some clues to open the Founders' chambers, but keep forgetting to tell you about it."

"That's something only your goldfish brain could forget about," Terrence said with a frustrated sigh.

"Shut up," the blond male muttered. "Anyway, as we all know, what seems to be the strongest aspect of something may also be its greatest weakness. Rowena's door has a puzzle to solve and a question to answer, but I bet that the answers are nothing complicated. The thing is that people believe they would be because the woman was brilliant, hence, they believe them to be unsolvable."

"Your logic is sound enough," Harry agreed. "You can try it and if it doesn't work we'll help you."

"So how can we open the other Founders' rooms?" Neville asked with his eyes shining in curiosity.

"I'm not sure yet, but I have a few theories. Salazar's door has symbols I've never seen before, so I still have no idea. Godric's door has a sword engraving, so it's possible that his legendary sword is meant to act as a key..."

"The problem is that the sword has been lost to the world since the man died," George groaned.

"Yup, but there's the possibility of it being an entirely different thing," Draco muttered and shrugged at the incredulous look George was giving him. "The last one is Helga's room. The door is plain, there isn't even a handle or an orifice for the key so I'm utterly lost there."

"We still have time," Fleur reminded her fellow blond.

"Harry, who are you taking to the Yule Ball?" Luna asked, breaking the tranquil silence that settled in the room.

"I'm not going," was the boy's lackadaisical answer.

"You have to," Marcus said, making the youngest champion raise an inquisitive eyebrow. "Well, technically, you aren't forced to attend, but I'd appreciate it if you made an appearance. Madam Bones has been planning this event for all the students to have fun, despite all the tosh that is happening outside."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Not much. Open the Ball with your date along with the other champions, mingle a bit, hopefully enjoy yourself, and leave after," Marcus answered, looking at Harry with hope shining in his eyes.

"I won't be there long," Harry acquiesced with a sigh.

"So, do you want any of us to go with you?" Daphne asked.

"I'll ask Elizabeth, don't worry... I'm sure she'll enjoy being the centre of attention."

With those words, the members of the Court went back to their normal activities

Albus Dumbledore glared at the sunlight that filtered through the curtains... He knew he should have replaced them with drapes long ago, but for some reason, he kept forgetting about it. The man squinted his eyes and groaned when sharp bolts of pain penetrated his skull. Without hesitation, he drank the vial of foul liquid that unfortunately was the most effective cure to hangovers.

He dragged himself towards the sitting place of his room, ignoring the warm food on the table in favour of the Firewhisky bottles that were stashed in a cupboard in the corner of the room. The old man stopped in his tracks when he noticed the bowl of sherbet lemons. With weary steps, he approached the low table on which the candies lay... When was the last time he had one? Better yet, when had he changed his loyal sweets for the bitter alcohol?

He sighed when he realized no one had searched for him, despite him not leaving his personal quarters in days. Well, who would search for him when his good name was gone?

Losing his position as the Head of the ICW was harsh, but it had been even harsher when all the members requested a new representative for Magical Britain. Now it was easy to see that his impulse of getting nesting dragons was idiotic at best. Maybe alcohol clouded his mind or perhaps his reckless Gryffindor courage took hold of him once again. Though, it could also be the fact that his pride did not allow him to believe that his idea was terrible. Be that as it may, there was nothing to do now aside from mulling over his mistakes.

Losing his position as Chief Warlock was a calculated move. This did not mean he was eager or even willing to let go of the title, yet it was a necessary sacrifice. Being Hogwarts' Headmaster was one of the things that reminded him what his real goal was: to improve the magical world so the next generations could live in peace.

Still, it was hard to not know what would happen in the next task of the Tournament. Despite all his efforts, he could not get any information about Madam Bones' plans for the competition, which meant that his own plans were abruptly halted. However, he decided to stop meddling in the matter until the waters were calmer, unless he was willing to risk ending like Olympe.

The woman was arrested last week for getting involved in matters that did not concern her, though the only thing he knew about the situation was that she paid a judge to obtain information. In the best case, she would lose her position as Beauxbatons Headmistress. In the worst, she would lose her reputation and no one would hire her. That was without mentioning her ancestry. Albus had no doubts the proud Olympe Maxime orchestrated her own downfall and he had no intentions of following her footsteps.

If that was not enough, all of his paths were being blocked. Attorney Blair was impossible to locate outside of a Wizengamot meeting and he had no other means of contacting her. Albus tried to ignore the unease whenever he thought about the creature regulations that were going to be abolished. He promised himself that he would bring up the matter in the next meeting and, hopefully, avoid the worst of the repercussions from that foolish initiative.

Even then, those were not his main concerns. The Order of the Phoenix was falling apart despite his best efforts. He had planned to recruit more people and make it a cohesive unit, but how successful could that effort be when even the oldest members were unwilling to work with each other? Molly had been at Sirius' throat ever since he challenged her for Harry's custody. Also, it seemed the young man learnt self-restraint, using insults masked behind fancy words and his trademark rogue smirk, which only served to incense the temperamental woman further. Their friction caused a rift within the group.

Arthur sided with his wife out of duty, but for some reason, William was almost hostile with his mother over the last few months and Dumbledore had the slight suspicion that the boy wanted to leave the Order. On the other hand, Remus supported his best friend and he was no longer willing to take the most dangerous assignments of spying on the werewolf packs. Ah, Albus didn't even want to think about Minerva. The woman was cold to everyone aside from the last Marauders, not to mention that, from being a friend, she turned into what could be barely be called an acquaintance.

If this was the state of the Order, what hopes could it have of being effective against the next attack of Tom's Death Eaters?

Besides, Severus was unable to obtain more information about Voldemort's movements. The man stopped calling anyone that was not amongst his most trusted servants and, despite all his efforts, Severus was unable to earn the man's trust. The only data Albus was working with was Tom needing a new body. While there were thousands of ways to make one, he knew Voldemort was dominated by pride and would choose the most complicated, yet effective ritual; one that needed the blood of his greatest enemy: Harry Potter. This would also grant him the protection Lily left behind.

However, Dumbledore was acutely aware of how many variables his theory had, but so far, it was the only one that made sense. Otherwise, he doubted the Death Eaters in the Wizengamot would have moved a finger to allow the competition to take place and, even less, volunteered to pay for the expenses. In any case, he should be glad. Harry Potter participating in the competition was luring the man away from his burrow, which meant that it was time to make his move.

Albus analyzed all his memories about Tom and all the objects the man could have turned into a Horcrux. To his great despair, he realized that more than one of those evil things could have been created and he had only one way of proving his theory – contact Horace Slughorn. However, that was far from being an easy task because the man avoided him like the plague ever since the Potters were murdered, even going as far as resigning from his post at Hogwarts.

"It will take time to contact him," Albus muttered, frowning at his trembling hands.

He noticed a few months ago how his health began deteriorating. First, his motor coordination began failing to the point dizziness and tremors were now a common occurrence. Then, the weakness of his muscles turned day-to-day activities into harrowing chores. His vision and hearing also degenerated and his memory began failing... How pathetic. Albus was not considered old in the magical world, yet he felt as if he was, but didn't have the luxury to rest. There were Horcruxes waiting to be destroyed and he was the only one with the knowledge to do so. It was his responsibility and he would assume it with pride.

With a sigh, he popped a the sherbet lemon into his mouth and grimaced at the taste. It seemed he no longer enjoyed the sour treats.

"So much has changed," Albus whispered.

A sudden epiphany threatened to overwhelm him; he stumbled until his side met the wall. His breathing was ragged and a peal of hysteric laughter emanated from his chest.

How could he be so blind?

Albus Dumbledore realized he never walked through the right path. When he was young, his desire to eliminate the shadow of his father motivated him. Then, his great pride along with magical talent turned him into an arrogant bigot. When Ariana died, he believed his pride was eradicated, but never stopped believing that he was always right... Never before had the idea of apologizing to any of his victims crossed his mind because, despite admitting his mistakes, he still believed he did the right thing.

With a dry chuckle, he finally understood why Aberforth was always so cold. The laughter died on his lips and the idea of getting drunk enticed him even more than a minute ago. Sighing, the old man got ready to face his demons.

He did not know how, but he would apologize to his first victim: his brother.

Marcus arrived at his parents' house and the smile he wore all evening disappeared. He eyed with distaste the ostentatious decor of the place that had served as his jail during his childhood. Now that his eyes were open, the memories of his childhood left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He wasn't allowed to go out of his room unless both of his parents gave him permission, because they always either had a guest or just wanted to be alone. Through painful lessons, he learnt to act as the pure-blood heir his parents expected. Marcus never really noticed how much he resented them until the time came to choose between his progenitors and his real family. Not for a moment he hesitated and even less regretted his decision. After all, real bonds were thicker than blood.

"Master Marcus! I was not expecting you here today," his house-elf greeted and the man had to smile at his little and loyal friend.

"It's time Tubby."

"I understand, sir, I will have everything ready."

"I trust in you, dear," the man told the smiling elf. "Give me a few minutes to speak with them and I'll call you."

"Yes, sir!"

Marcus patted Tubby's head with gentleness and walked towards the basement, humming a merry tune. When he entered the room, torches lit up, illuminating the eerie place. The light revealed the two shackled people who were glaring at him. With a simple wave of his wand, a chair appeared from thin air and Marcus sat on it.

"You were both terrible parents, you know?" he asked rhetorically, his eyes focused on the metal cage that rested in the corner of the room. "Every time I did something wrong in your eyes, I would be locked in here for days. If Tubby hadn't been there to take care of me, I wouldn't be here today... I grew up in constant fear, but I followed all your beliefs and rules without complaints. So I always wondered why you hated me so much," Marcus said, smiling at his parents.

He pointed his wand at his mother and her mouth was uncovered. The woman looked ready to yell but the look her son gave her was enough to stop her.

"We didn't hate you," she whispered in a flat, hoarse voice. "That is until you betrayed us."

"I guess clobbering me when I was a child was your version of a hug."

"You needed to be raised as a true pure-blood heir, but I see we failed in turning you into a decent human being," was the woman's toneless answer.

"You should know by now that being a Death Eater and a decent person are not synonyms. In any case, I came here to say my farewells."

"So you'll finally kill us..." the woman acknowledged as a hint of a smirk appeared on her face. "We know that you're a coward; there's no way you'll harm us. And even if you managed to, the Aurors would find out."

"Perhaps, or perhaps not. In the eyes of the law, I'm an exemplary worker and you two are simple Death Eaters... No one will even care about your tragic demise. Tubby!" he called his elf, who popped into the room a second later.

"We're preparing the area, sir."

"Excellent, I'll take them and we can begin."

The elf disappeared and Marcus smiled at his parents. With a flick of his wand, his father's mouth was uncovered. The young man ignored the penetrating glare of the older man and cast a full body-bind curse on his mother.

"You were always a disappointment," the older man said in a raspy and almost unintelligible voice. "You think your position will protect you? Do you even think you have the guts to kill us?"

"I won't kill you," Marcus said, huffing at the ridiculous notion, an action that made his father tense. "You know how the Longbottoms were attacked - no need to dirty my hands when I can do something better."

The man's eyes widened at his son's blunt revelation, but before he could speak, the full body-bind curse also hit him and he could only watch as his only son levitated him and his wife to their terrible fate while the boy hummed that merry tune that he sang to himself when he was a child.