"We can try to get his help, but how are we going to explain to him how I knew about horcruxes? Necromancy is a taboo subject. To even know the word is suspicious enough. Albus Dumbledore is no fool, and he was already weary of me. This has increased that concern tenfold. The longer he lives, the longer he has to formulate a plan against us."
"If we gather the horcruxes with Dumbledore then Harry won't need the power boost against Voldemort," Sirius argued.
"And if Dumbledore kills Harry or I first then we'll have to flee the country to be resurrected and he'll have to forfeit the tournament and lose his magic," Mama argued back.
Sirius opened his mouth to say something back, the two of them passionate about their opinion being the correct one, when he thought over her words a little more and paused.
"Er hang on," Sirius paused, mind whirling. "I'm confused. Can Harry be resurrected from death? I didn't realize that was an option, that's quite reassuring. Is it that a Master of Death thing? I thought the only way to do that would be through horcruxes, otherwise he wouldn't get his soul back, right?"
Harry shared a worried look with his mama. He laughed nervously. Had they forgotten to tell Sirius about their own horcruxes?
"What is it?" Sirius asked, worried at the uncomfortable look on Harry's face.
"How did you think I knew about horcruxes? We are necromancers," Mama said curtly.
"It's not… he doesn't have an amulet like mine? Harry, did you actually…?"
"Harry invented that ritual for the amulets, and it is not nearly as secure as a horcrux. It will not extend your life for example." Mama rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you knew I was several hundred years old."
"No, there's a ritual for that, something other than murder, certainly. Something other than tearing your soul into pieces! You wouldn't do that to a child, right, Alabasandria?"
Harry shrunk down under the blankets. Mama did not look worried, her face was as impassive as usual, but Sirius looked shocked beyond anything, sickly pale as his eyes darted between the two of them. Harry began to shake. Was this Sirus' limit? Was he going to leave them?
Sirius turned his gaze to Harry who flinched with sudden terror. His godfather's face softened.
"I'm not mad at you, love. But you actually, you… did you…" Sirius couldn't speak the words. It was a limit he had not even considered until this horrifying moment.
Harry nodded, the edge of the blankets shifted to hide his face from view. With no hesitation, he pulled off his ring and offered it to the man. Sirius cradled it in his hands and looked shell-shocked. If he could hear the crying coming from the Freak In The Cupboard, he said nothing about it. He just sat there, staring at the ring.
"Okay, let's finish our conversation," Sirius murmured. Mindlessly, he handed the ring back to Harry. "Um, what else was there?"
"I - I feel better, Sirius, honest," Harry said. "We don't have to keep going." He was extremely uncomfortable being present for their argument and all he wanted was for both of them to stop talking and leave him alone.
"I'm fine, kiddo." Sirius did not look fine.
"No, no really. All that's left is the tournament, and we can talk about that later," Harry said, his voice nearly in a whisper. "I'm not too worried. Since um… since it can't kill me."
"Right. Well. Um. Alright, kiddo. I'm going to head out then. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?" Harry nodded and they watched as Sirius shuffled out of the room in a daze. Harry silently added another thing to his list. Most of his fears had been extinguished, but now it was replaced with a much larger one, the largest one, in fact. It bubbled in the back of his throat and filled him with a visceral sense of dread to the point where Harry feared he might vomit again.
The front door slammed shut with a thud that shook the walls. Mama's head slammed against the worktable and she let out a noise between a growl and a sigh.
"That, my love, is why necromancers avoid companionship," she whispered.
The Great Hall was converted into an auditorium, a towering stack of seats wedged along the perimeter. Harry arrived late, having fallen back asleep after a Quidditch practice so early that the morning sun had not yet arrived when they'd finished. Most of the seats were full, and he wandered around until he spotted Ron and Luna.
Ron looked like he might vomit.
"You'll do great," Harry said as he sat down. "Do you know who you're competing against yet?"
"McGonagall said it was by year, I'm not sure."
They noticed Neville standing at the beginning of the flimsy seating and looking around.
"Over here!" Harry called. The boys made eye contact and Neville beamed. He'd been under the assumption that Harry had needed him to vent that one time and would ignore him afterward like every other student tended to do. Harry had been distant the last few weeks, but not just to Neville, it had seemed, but to everyone. It was nerves for the upcoming tournament task, Neville figured. Harry pulled him into the seat next to his.
"Guys, Neville is my newest minion," he announced.
"Hello Neville," Luna smiled at him.
"Minion? I thought you said you weren't a Dark Lord in training?" Neville said, pleased that Harry seemed to be doing fine now.
Ron laughed. "Oh, he is. He just doesn't realize it yet. Did you tell him everything, Harry?"
"Er, yeah. I sort of ranted to him for a bit while we gathered gillyweed in the lake."
"That sounds… nice," Ron said as politely as he could muster. Digging up weeds in the mud sounded like nerd shit, and Ron was too cool for such nonsense.
"Yes, actually, it will be extremely helpful for the second task, so Neville is currently my number one minion."
Ron jerked up. "Excuse me? I'm your number one minion!"
"You'd better win your duel if you want to regain your spot, Ron."
Ron puffed out his chest, his nerves vanishing in an instant.
"Pah! Easy!" He gloated.
.....
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