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Harry Potter and The Shadowed Light
Harry P. & Sirius B. & Tom R. Jr. & Voldemort - Words: 208,613 - Rated: M - English - Adventure & Romance - Chapters: 35 - Reviews: 1300 - Updated: 10-09-2018 - Published: 24-03-2017 - by itshannieee (FFN)

Harry Potter and the Shadowed Light

Chapter 30


Eventually Harry, Sirius and Remus were all spat out of the pensive. Harry could feel the tears running down his face, but he didn't care enough to brush them aside.

"Thank you," he whispered, emotion clogging his voice.

Sirius and Remus were in similar states, the memories dragging up emotions long buried.

"It's okay, pup," Sirius whispered, pulling both Remus and Harry into a three-way hug. They had hardly spoken during the memories, instead letting Harry get the full experience.

Harry smiled, grateful for what they had done. Eventually the hug ended, all of them left feeling better for it.

December 24th 1992, Grimmauld Place London

Harry was awed as he felt his magic join with Sirius and Remus'. Their cores all seemed to expand and rejuvenate as the flames sparkled. It felt like his magic was alive as it danced around the room. Eventually the out of body experience ended and Harry felt his magic return to him and settle, leaving him buzzed and his sense heightened.

"Wow," he whispered quietly.

Hearing a slight chuckle, Harry looked up and saw Sirius sitting on a chair with a blissed out look on his face.

"I forgot how powerful a proper Yule ritual could be," the animagus said.

"Is this your first one since you left home?" Harry asked.

"No, I celebrated with your father and grandparents while at school and then with your parents during the war, but this is my first Yule since Azkaban."

Harry nodded. He was sure that the ritual had helped Sirius even more than it had helped him. Looking at him Harry noticed the dark shadows in his eyes seemed to have diminished further and even his magical aura seemed more stable and content.

"I didn't know the Potters were traditionalists," Harry said, his voice questioning.

"Well they were purebloods and your grandmother was a Black by birth," Sirius explained.

Harry made a noise of understanding. He murmured, "I see." He remembered seeing that on the family tapestry but hadn't made the connection. It made sense to him though.

"They were really traditional in most of their views, but they didn't mind muggleborns or halfbloods."

Harry nodded. "That's good. It's nice to think they would have accepted me."

Sirius spared Harry a bittersweet smile. "They would have loved you. They tried for so long to have children and simply adored James and even me when I ran away and ended up living with them. They were wonderful and very doting parents - you would have been the most spoiled grandson in the whole of the wizarding world if they had gotten the chance to meet you."

Malfoy Yule ball, 24th December 1992

"Come on Harrison, we're going to be late if you don't get a move on," Remus called up the stairs.

Sirius leaded up the side of the wall next to him with a slight pout on his face. He too had been forced by Remus to get ready and look presentable but, unlike Harry, he was given little leeway in what he was allowed to wear. The werewolf had given him implicit instructions which he had to abide by as he was the current Lord Black, meaning he was left wearing black and silver robes as a nod to the Black family colours, with the Black family crest and house motto on the left side of the robe.

Upstairs Harry sighed as he straightened his robes. He couldn't say he hated the dressing up part of the evening, in all honesty he thought he looked rather good in his formal robes: dark grey trousers, a white shirt, with a dark emerald robe lined with silver. Harry had also allowed his hair to fall in its natural waves for the night, making him appear like a proper little heir.

With one last glance at his appearance, Harry quickly picked up his wand and placed it into his holster.

Arriving at the Malfoy's, Harry was struck by how grand the manor was. He had visited it a few times since returning to the past but never had he seen it so done out. The white marble walls seemed to glitter and the Yule decorations, although simple, played well with the Malfoy's more exuberant decor.

"Welcome Lord Black, Heir Potter-Black, Mr. Lupin, to Malfoy manor. May we wish you a happy Yule and may magic bless and renew you," Lucius said. Narcissa and Draco stood next to him, both bowing their heads in greeting.

Sirius nodded. "Thank you, Lord Malfoy. May magic restore you and your family."

Harry nodded to them all and exchanged similar formal greetings before smiling at his friend.

"Have a good Yule, Draco?" he asked. The present- giving tradition that magicals had adopted from the muggles wouldn't be until the 25th of December but Harry hoped that the Malfoy's own Yule ceremony had been as fulfilling as his own.

"Yes, thank you. It was pretty normal. How was your first Yule?" Draco asked curious.

Harry grinned slightly. "Magical," he said, thinking not only of the ceremony but also Tom.

Lucius, subtly eavesdropping on the conversation, smiled at the insinuation and made note to get either Black, Lupin, or Harrison alone later to find out if the ritual had been a success.

Once they had entered the ball, Harry looked around for familiar faces and was glad to see a few. However, he still wished to be anywhere but here—already he could hear whispers about not just himself but Sirius as well.

"The Boy Who Lived," they murmured. "Such grace, beautiful eyes - I heard he will inherit it all," they whispered. "Murderer, guilty, I don't care what you say," they hissed.

With a sigh Harry gradually floated towards a corner, hoping to hide until it was time to leave.

"You do know you can't hide there all night, right?" an amused voice said, drawing Harry out of his thoughts.

Turning, Harry met a sight that shocked him to the core: Standing before him with hair was Quirrell. Unsure what to do and if the man was aware of what had happened to him, Harry stood staring.

"Professor?" he said eventually, the word coming out as a question.

The man smirked slightly. "Well, technically not anymore Mr. Potter. Sorry, Potter-Black."

Harry nodded slightly, confused. 'What does he know? Did Tom know who he is, did Quirrell?'

"So, professor, how have you been since leaving Hogwarts?" Harry asked. He wanted, no, needed to know more.

Unlike in his first life, the man hadn't interacted with Harry much in his first year beyond their classes. He was a Ravenclaw who was very rarely alone and didn't get detentions and hadn't fallen for Dumbledore's ploys. Yes, he had felt himself being watched, had felt the man's assessing gaze on him multiple times, but he hadn't felt the overwhelming hatred Voldemort's stare had once held. To put it mildly, Harry hadn't really cared about Quirrelmort being around in his first year after he had gained the stone. The man, spirit, shard, whatever, had seemed to be holding back on attacking him.

Harry had simply assumed that Quirrell had gone down through the traps at the end of the year and been caught trying to steal the fake and died once again in some manner, not stealing the fake stone or just simply going into hiding after failing his master. Harry had thought that Dumbledore had hidden this fact and the fact the stone was stolen in order to maintain control and keep face.

The man gave Harry an assessing look for a moment before seemingly coming to a conclusion. "Well, I thought I would try my hand at a new branch of magic—much more obscure, alchemy. Perhaps you have heard of it?"

Harry was surprised by the frank answer. "Yes, I have heard of it. Although I find myself surprised by your interest, first Muggle Studies then Defence Against the Dark Arts, now this…." Harry trailed off, wanting to see where the man would take the conversation.

"Yes, I find myself restless. It was though I have lost my purpose for the moment. I need to find it or perhaps more correctly I need to find somebody to tell me what to do with myself."

Harry nodded. Was the man admitting to trying to bring back Voldemort? Or was it something else?

"I see. Well from what I have read alchemy is a hard subject to master; what about it struck your interest?"

"I have always been fascinated with powerful magic, powerful people. Recently I heard talk of the Flamel's—it sparked my interest."

Harry sent the man an assessing look. "I see, then I wish you success in this new endeavour."

'Perhaps he had yet to realise the stone is fake? Then again I couldn't sense the soul shard on him so I'm not too sure.'

Frustrated, but making sure to hide it with his occlumency shields, Harry turned and made his way out into the surrounding guests.

July 15th 1992, Quirrell's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Quirinus Quirrell knew he wasn't the most skilled wizard in the world, however he liked to think that he was adept in certain areas - certainly more so than the average fool. Yet standing now, he felt like he could take on Merlin himself.

He had served his Lord faithfully from when he was still a teenager until his Lord had been defeated by that retched halfblood brat. His loyalty and devotion never wavering during the ten years his Lord had been lost, not even once. Yet now he could feel his undying allegiance was faltering; he had borne his Lord's spirit for a year, willingly and even eagerly, but now he was torn.

The Philosopher's Stone: a priceless, one of a kind magical artefact, was within his grasp quite literally. The foolish old man's feeble traps and protections had been nothing to him and now he stood holding one of the world's most precious substances, the key ingredient to the elixir of life and the sole object capable of making gold out of anything.

'I could do anything and be anybody with such a powerful artefact,' he thought. However, as soon as the thought entered his mind it also vanished, a pain not unlike the Cruciatus curse quickly taking its place as his Lord made his anger at the traitorous thoughts known.

"Such treachery," the leathery voice rasped out.

Quirrell quickly remembered his place. "Never, my Lord."

"The Philosopher's Stone… with it I shall be reborn!"

Quirrell felt a rush run through him. His Lord reborn. In that moment any fleeting plans he may have had about the stone vanished as he knew he would do whatever it took to help his Lord return to his former glory.

"Yes master, soon you shall take your place once again above us all. You shall have your revenge on the Light and that brat Potter," Quirrell said, hoping to regain his Lord's favour. Instead he felt a rush of fury before it was masked.

Quirinus had been confused when he had met Harry Potter. The boy was nothing like what he had been expecting. He was quiet, smart, and most surprisingly a Ravenclaw. Where was the Light's noble little lion? Their little Light Lord? The boy he had met was honestly somebody he could see growing up to be a fine wizard, however his loyalty to his Lord had kept him at bay. He refused to harbour fond thoughts about the brat who had caused his Lord's downfall - that's what he kept firmly in his mind every time the child would do something he approved of.

Yet, slowly, this strict notion of hating the child dwindled; he had felt his Lord's fascination with the boy from the moment Harry Potter had been read out during the child's Sorting. He had felt his Lord's hunger to observe his so-called defeater, the Boy-Who-Lived. At first, out of loyalty to his master, he had planned ways to do away with the child, but not only were opportunities scarce with the brat's little collection of friends always hanging of him like mindless drones, he felt his Lord's captivation with the first year continuously grow.

"The child is… not a concern…," the serpentine voice rasped out, the sound sending chills down Quirinus' back. It wasn't the words that caused the reaction and caught his attention, however, it the feeling that he got from his Lord. He didn't know whether to feel sorry for the child or not, as his Lord was intrigued and felt almost possessive over the young Ravenclaw.

Tenyears as a spirit, lost and wandering untethered, had not been part of Tom's plans for Lord Voldemort or the Dark side. That was one of the few rational thoughts that managed to filter in through the haze of anger, pain, and madness.

Harry Potter. Such an ordinary name for the boy who had brought about his destruction.

Eyes the colour of the killing curse.

The thoughts filtered through Tom's consciousness, more clearly now than ever before. Before he had joined onto his follower's mind and possessed his body, Tom's thoughts had been scattered and hazy. Now he was able to make sense of his thoughts and the world around him. It was hard, exhausting, but slowly he drew to some set conclusions.

He had been defeated. Him. By a baby.

He couldn't quite remember why yet, but he knew he would eventually.

He shall be marked as his equal.

Quirinus watched as the Potter-Black Heir moved through the crowd with easy grace, silently navigating away from him. The crowd seemed to part for him naturally, people often not even noticing their own deference to the small boy.

He had watched the boy from afar since his master plan with the stone had failed. It had been a fake, a well-crafted imposter of the real stone.

He had done everything right for the ritual, hoping to restore his Lord and when he had failed he had feared his Lord's reaction. Instead his Lord laughed, manically at first before it turned genuine, something Quirrell had never heard before. Finally, he had simply ripped himself free, promising Quirinus that he would be rewarded for his aid. After that Quirinus wasn't sure what had happened. The pain of their separation had been too much. He had never felt anything like it—it was a never ending, all-consuming darkness that he didn't think he would escape from. However eventually he had, slowly able to pick himself up, his body shaking with effort and his magic dangerously drained.

Malfoy Yule ball, 24th December 1992

Harry walked away feeling the eyes of the man who had helped his soulmate practically burning into his back, but he didn't stop. The man left Harry with multiple questions buzzing around his head, however this was not the time or the place for such endeavours. Making sure his masks were firmly in place, Harry instead focused on the other guests, watching with interest how the most influential members of the wizarding world all interacted with one another, lies and manipulations falling from lips as easily as flattery and bribes. It was fascinating to watch.

"Enjoying the show?" a smooth drawl asked, drawing Harry's attention but not surprising him as his magic had felt the man's approach.

"Indeed. I'm surprised you have left them. Such a fun game, politics," Harry said, sending the man next to him a small smirk.

Lucius returned the smirk. "Only if the players are interesting," Lucius said, looking around with barely concealed disgust.

Lucius felt like a new man since he had visited Gringotts yesterday morning and had himself checked out for compulsions and charms. Although nowhere near the level of what he had been fearing after speaking to Harry, Sirius, and Remus, the Malfoy Lord was enraged when he received his results. He had been made to hate muggleborns and halfbloods, to act more prideful than was gentlemanly, to be arrogant, and to not question orders. Small things that he already did to a slight degree in some cases, but with the added compulsions made it so he was a more than willing follower. Without them the Malfoy Lord questioned if he would have so easily followed his Lord as a teenager. He didn't regret his decision now as he knew that with Harrison's help the Dark and his Lord would be reborn - but still, the slight doubt he had enraged him. He was a Malfoy and Malfoys didn't get manipulated.

Harry snorted delicately, enjoying the man's dry humour as it was rare for people to use such with him at his body's current physical age.

"Father, have you seen—oh there you are!" Came a softer version of Lucius' voice. Draco appeared next to his father and sent Harry a quick smile before his pureblood mask slipped back on.

"Draco," Harry greeted, almost regretting being found as he was enjoying Lucius' company.

"Harry," the blond greeted.

Lucius sent his son a soft look. "I shall leave you boys to it. Do remember to come and see me before you leave tonight, Harrison."

Harry nodded. "I shall. Enjoy your evening, Lucius."

Draco snorted and said, "It's weird watching you with my father."

"Oh?" Harry hummed.

"He treats you like an adult - it's like he respects you. He doesn't respect anybody! What makes you so special?" Draco asked, sounding petulant. However, Harry could tell the boy wasn't truly upset, just merely confused.

Harry sighed. He had feared this and although Draco was much more mature this time around, he was still rather spoilt and, well, a child. A child who idolised his father and saw Harry as a potential threat for the man's affections.

"Really?" Harry said, acting shocked. "It's probably because of everything that's happened with Siri and Dumbledore, and us being friends."

Draco didn't look fully convinced but his eyes did soften slightly and his pout lessened. "Yeah," he agreed.

Harry let out a breath. "So where are you taking me?" he asked, following the slightly taller boy through a set of double doors.

"To where the actual fun is," Draco said, opening a door and revealing a room full of people their age or there about. Harry recognised a few people slightly older and younger than his yearmates.

"You found him!" A female voice said, drawing Harry's eyes to Susan. She was standing up from her place where she had been sitting with Hannah and the two Greengrass sisters near a chessboard.

"Yes, he was in the main ballroom with the adults," Draco said.

Harry looked around the room and saw that it was set up with various games and snacks.

"Would it be too much to hope we're staying here all night?" he asked. He wouldn't mind this as it was like a regular party.

"Yes," Draco said, smirking. "But we will be in here for most of it. However it is expected of us to go in for an hour at around 8 - a house elf will let us know when."

Harry groaned lightly but was relieved that he didn't have to stay at the ball all evening.

Hearing giggling, Harry saw that Pansy had joined him and Draco. "I don't see why you hate dancing so much. You're so graceful, I'm sure you're a wonderful dancer," the girl said, smiling lightly at Harry.

Seeing the girl dressed in pale blue robes, Harry smiled before bowing lowly and kissing her hand. "You look lovely this evening, Miss Parkinson. However, I'm sorry to inform you that you're wrong. A drunken hippogriff would be a better dance partner than me," he said, making the girl blush at the compliment before she laughed.

Sirius was bored. Not only was he bored but he was uncomfortable.

He had always hated parties like this and they were even worse now that he was an adult. Everybody here had an agenda or a motive—they were looking for gossip, weaknesses to exploit, or endorsements. It was a giant game of politics that Sirius didn't want to play.

"You look utterly miserable, mutt. What's wrong? Did the wolf forget to give you a flea bath this week?"

Hearing the melodious and snarky voice, Sirius grinned, "Now, now, Sevvie, you know it's not me who forgot to bathe."

Severus glared at the Lord in front of him but he felt no heat behind it. He was honestly, Morgana save him, starting to tolerate the man.

"Really? I didn't notice," the potions master said, letting his eyes drag slowly up the Lord's body. He was unwilling to admit to himself just how good the man in front of him looked. His skin held a healthy glow that it had previously been missing, his grey eyes and black hair standing out against his fine quality robes.

Sirius thought to keep a smirk off his face as he felt the black eyes rake across his body, lingering in certain places. 'How interesting.'

"So, have you visited the goblins yet?" Sirius asked.

Severus felt any good humour he had previously felt dry up and die in an instant. Yes, he had visited the goblins.

22nd December 1992, Gringotts Bank, London Branch

Severus didn't know what to think. Voldemort was Harry's soulmate? That monster, the man that had killed his first friend, who had branded him, tortured him, and tried to destroy the world… he couldn't quite believe it.

Still, he knew better than to doubt the words spoken. Harry had been honest - his eyes had told him that. Yet he still had reservations. How could a Potter be fated for a Dark Lord? For now he would accept it; if what Harry said was true then perhaps the Lord he served was just a lie—manipulated and sent mad.

Shaking his head, Severus stalked forwards. The late night crowd was thin, most people at home with family on such a day. Severus wasn't most people. He wanted to know what, if anything, had been done to him and he needed the proof before his eyes. He didn't want to believe Dumbledore had manipulated him, didn't want to think of all the implications such actions would have on the world.

"Yes?" A harsh voice snapped, drawing Severus out of his turmoil.

"I need to see a healer. I was sent by Harrison Potter-Black," Severus said.

The goblin was silent for a moment, the beady eyes scrutinising Severus. After what felt like years it nodded and stood before it came around from behind its desk.

"You will follow me."

Severus nodded and moved quickly. Turning down twisting tunnels, Severus was surprised at how far they were walking. After about ten minutes they eventually came before a set of double doors. Knocking, they open immediately and Severus followed the goblin inside.

"You will wait here for a healer," the goblin said before walking back out of the doors which closed loudly with a clink indicating they had been locked.

Severus felt himself stiffening. The reaction was a byproduct of the last war—as a traitor-turned-spy any unknown situation made him uneasy.

Looking around the room, Severus noticed it was a ritual room and that there were potion ingredients and equipment set off to one side. It looked like an anarchic healing room but Severus supposed that this was perhaps the standard of goblin healing. He couldn't be sure as he knew nothing of the art himself; goblins were, after all, notorious for keeping their magic and culture hidden from outsiders.

During his scrutiny of the situation he failed to notice the doors open.

"So he's sent me another one?" a female voice asked.

Severus stiffened and turned quickly, barely suppressing his want to draw his wand.

The female goblin noticed his twitch and grinned at i., "My name is Healer Maeve. Shall I be expecting any more visitors in the coming days?"

Severus willed his body to loosen. "One more I suspect."

"So tell me Severus Tobias Snape, why are you here?"

Severus once again fought the urge to twitch. He hadn't given his name.

"Harrison Potter-Black suggested I may be under the effects of compulsions and other such charms. I find the possibility unsettling and wish to know."

"I see. Do you know the full purpose of a Gringotts blood inheritance test?"


"Then you know it will show you all inherited Lordships or Lordships gained through either birth, marriage, conquest, or those bequeathed to you. The test includes any adoptions, muggle, magical, or blood and any magical qualities, abilities, or bonds. This also extends to all vaults available to you. It can also show any magical blocks, compulsions, and interferences such as potions as well as give the date any such potions or blocks were first administered and it can also show any creature blood or inheritance," the goblin said.

Severus felt his eyes widen. He knew they showed titles, vaults, and inheritances but he hadn't known the full scale of the test or just how in depth they were.

"I see. I wish to undertake such a test," he said with finality in his tone. He needed to know.

The female grinned, flashing her small fangs. "Nothing is free."

"What is your price?"

"5 galleons."

Severus nodded. He wasn't obscenely rich like his lordly friends but he was very comfortable with both his teacher wages and the income he got from developing potions and having potion patents. "I accept."

With a nod the female goblin clicked her fingers and a golden parchment appeared. Handing it over she instructed, "Three drops of blood. No more, no less."

Withholding his sneer, Severus focused on his finger and sent a weak cutting hex, allowing for a paper cut sized wound to appear. After the blood fell Severus focused his magic and let the wound heal, before focusing on the words on the page.


Severus Tobias Snape


9 January, 1960, Spinner's End
Cokeworth, Midlands, England, Great Britain


Eileen Moira Snape nee Prince (Mother)

Tobias George Snape (Father)


Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Prince (Maternal)


Severus Snape vault: 89,234 galleons, 119 books, 21 artefacts

Prince family vault: 3,123,789 galleons, 1274 books, 1923 artefacts

Magical abilities and blocks:

Core magic – Dark (20% blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)

Hereditary blood magics (50% Blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)

Wandless magic

Magic sensitivity


4 Spinner's End, Cokeworth, Midlands, England

Prince Manor, Wiltshire, England

Prince town house, London, England

Magical bonds:

Godfather bond – Draconis Lucius Malfoy, 6th June 1981

Magical compulsions:

*Due to subject's occlumency some compulsions have been partially broken over time*

Shame keyed to home life (Albus Dumbledore, September 1st 1971) *broken 40%

Distrust keyed to Gryffindors (Albus Dumbledore, September 21st 1971) *broken 10%

Resentment keyed to James Potter (Albus Dumbledore, September 21st 1971) *broken 60%

Resentment keyed to Sirius Black (Albus Dumbledore, September 21st 1971) *broken 70%

Resentment keyed to Remus Lupin (Albus Dumbledore, September 21st 1971) *broken 60%

Isolation from peers (Albus Dumbledore, September 1st 1972) *broken 10%

Belief in blood purity (Albus Dumbledore, September 1st 1973) *broken 80%

Loyalty keyed to Albus Dumbledore (Albus Dumbledore, January 3rd 1980) *broken 60%

Loyalty keyed to the Order of the Phoenix (Albus Dumbledore, January 3rd 1980) *broken 40%

Resentment keyed to Harry Potter (Albus Dumbledore, October 31st 1981) *broken 90%

Reading the findings, Severus made sure to keep his face blank. The results were both surprising and not; he supposed a small part of him had been holding out hope that this would all turn out to be a mistake. Yet now he had the proof, laid out bare in front of him.

"Shall we continue?" Maeve asked, her eyes holding no pity.

"Yes," Severus said.

Malfoy Yule ball, 24th December 1992

Finally free from the party, Harry let out a breath as he followed Sirius and Remus into Lucius' office along with Severus. He had enjoyed the party more than he thought he would but that was mainly down to his interaction with Quirrell. Feeling the office wards snap into place, Harry allowed himself to relax his hold on his magic. He liked being able to release the rigid hold he had on his core now that more people were aware of him.

Hearing the tinkling of glasses, Harry was for a second tempted to ask for some fire whiskey before he remembered his body was that of a 12 year old.

"So, I take it from your jubilant moods the ritual to start our Lord's return was a success?" Lucius asked after serving the drinks.

"It was," Harry said, giving the tumbler one last fleeting glance before his resolve hardened. "Have you visited Gringotts yet?"

The two men in question shared looks before allowing their displeasures to shine through. "We have."


"Although not as bad as any of yours we both had compulsions and blocks placed on us."

"Mine made my... less than savoury personality traits more pronounced," Lucius said, taking a sip of the amber liquid, "I believe they made me more susceptible to both my father and the Dark Lord's wishes. I cannot say they are what made me join but without them I think I would have been less passive in my blind support.

"I believe they also made me less tolerant to things I previously did not care about, such as muggleborns. I cannot say I love them but I used to be a lot more open towards them as a child. I only disliked the fact our culture and heritage was dwindling, yet at Hogwarts my views changed towards hating them. Now this could easily have been because of the culture at the time, especially in Slytherin, however I think that the compulsions helped this monumentally."

Harry nodded. He hadn't expected Lucius to have had as many charms or compulsions. The idea of Dumbledore dosing everybody was ridiculous and if he did he would have been caught long before now.

"I take it your magic was left alone?" Remus asked.

"Yes, I had no blocks on my core," Lucius confirmed.

"Well that's something," Sirius said, taking a large drink.

"What about you, professor?" Harry asked Severus who looked to be nursing his drink.

"I had multiple compulsions affecting my personality. I believe they made me less social with my peers and may have contributed to my delving into the Darker arts of magic. I believe they also contributed to my attitudes towards certain individuals and groups of people. Unlike Lucius, I also had a 20% block on my magical core and a further 50% on my inherited blood magics, which in the Prince family is spell crafting."

Harry blinked at the no nonsense way Severus spoke, hearing the underlying fury.

"It makes you wonder how he is getting away with this," Harry mused.

"Oh?" Severus said

"Well, the tests show clearly what's been done and by who. It concerns me that this hasn't come out," Harry explained.

"I don't know many people who would take the test," Sirius said.

"Muggleborns are muggleborns, therefore they are coming into a new world. Everybody else knows who they are or at least what family they come from. It's actually very rare for people to take inheritance tests. It's usually halfbloods or orphans who suspect they're halfbloods who take the tests and I doubt Dumbledore has much use for such people." Lucius said.

Harry nodded. That made sense but he was still amazed that Dumbledore had gotten away with this for so long.

"I suspect he picks people from families he knows are involved in politics or who he thinks he can manipulate easily. He picks the outsiders as the ones he can fully twist and shape into the puppets he wants," Harry said, thinking about Dumbledore's reasons.

"I agree," Remus said, thinking about his own situation. He had been blinded by his gratitude towards Dumbledore for years - he hadn't thought to ever question the man.

Eventually the small meeting died down as they shared their theories about Dumbledore's plans.

This is the updated beta'd version, Big thanks to miisticallwrites for going through and fixing this up for me!


Dear readers, Thank you for all the support & sorry for the slow updates!

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