A/N: Just don't hate me when this plot twist gets thrown into the mix. It was my initial thought the moment I heard the title of the sixth book. And just as an instant spoiler, I'll tell you right now the Half-Blood Prince isn't Snape in my story. Hopefully it doesn't create too many plotlines through the story.
For those wondering this is the first part of what I've deemed "The Heir Trilogy." Eventually there may be additional ships introduced, but I'm undecided on whether or not to make them an integral part of the plot or merely an aside.
Chapter 12: The Half Blood Prince
Seeing the determined look in Remus' eyes was enough to make Harry and Hermione both broadly smile. Harry in particular realized quickly that if his plans for both Dumbledore and Voldemort, should he choose to go through with them, were to succeed, then he would need allies. Remus was now firmly listed in that camp.
Remus let out a deep sigh, his frustration alleviated somewhat, and he shook his head in disappointment. "I can't believe Dumbledore would do something like that," he said, a tinge of sadness evident in his voice. "After everything he's done, how can he resort to these kind of tactics."
Hermione shrugged, nearly at a loss for words. "Maybe he's just doing what he thinks is best," she replied, trying to reconcile her lingering support for the headmaster and the evidence of the last week. She let out a hiccuped sob as she thought about things long and hard, before she quietly said, "We can't go back."
Harry looked at her, nearly going into full protective mode at the sound of her voice. Gently he laid his hand in hers and softly spoke, "Can't go back where 'Mione?"
"Hogwarts," she said in equal silence. Harry just sat there, contemplating the gravity of the statement. He hadn't even given thought to Hogwarts and going back in the fall, given the events of recent days. Hermione composed herself and wiped a few tears from her eyes. "At least I don't think I can. Not after everything that's happened. I just can't go back and pretend like everything's as it was. Going to Quidditch matches, sitting in the common room and the Great Hall. It'd all be a lie." Harry nodded slightly, partially in agreement and partially in support.
"It's a decision we can make later love," he replied softly, pulling her into an embrace which she fervently returned. They sat that way for several moments, before a slight cough brought them back to reality. Immediately they broke about and turned to Remus, who had a wry smile on his face.
"So," he asked playfully, "When did you two decide to join the party?" Harry and Hermione looked at him strangely as he continued to smile. "That is to say, when did you finally figure out that you two make a great couple." There was a slight blush from both of them and Remus quickly dropped the subject. His face turned grim once more as he continued. "I think the apt question is, Harry, what are you going to do about him? From what I understand of what you've told me, being the heir of the founders grants you the ability to overrule the governors of Hogwarts, and as such you could choose to boot out Dumbledore if you so desired."
Harry immediately shook his head. "No," he stated simply. "For all of his meddling the old man still has his uses." He paused a moment, contemplating those uses. "Without Dumbledore, I don't think there'd be anything holding Voldemort back from attacking Hogwarts. He is the only wizard Tom ever feared, after all."
Remus nodded thoughtfully, while Hermione merely kept a close eye on Harry's emotionless face. She was quickly becoming adept at reading Harry's moods, a skill she soon realized she had always really possessed but had never been able to put into words until recently. Right now, he was deep in thought, struggling with himself over whatever the best course of action might be. A contemplative mood was one she was not used to seeing on Harry's face, but given everything that had happened it was somewhat understandable. After several moments of silence, she placed her hands on Harry's arm and spoke softly. "Harry, if it comes to it we might have to consider that...." she paused, trying best how to say what she was thinking.
"That Dumbledore is becoming as big a problem as Voldemort is," Harry said staring forward, not looking at her. Hermione looked up and bit her bottom lip, nodding slightly. "To be honest I've thought of that." Harry let out a deep sigh, lowering his head slightly. "For all that he's done I can only hope that he didn't have malicious intentions, and that everything he has done was in some twisted way what he thought was right." He stopped for a moment before smirking to himself and adding, "Besides, even with all that I've learned I don't think I'd be able to take him down if he decided to force the issue."
Remus merely nodded. "You are right about that Harry. Though he is far past his prime, Dumbledore is still an extremely gifted wizard."
Harry leaned back in his chair, obviously perturbed about something. "If only we had more time to learn what we need to know, so that we can stand up to Dumbledore and take down Voldemort." Harry sat dejectedly for a moment before a sharp gasp of air from Hermione drew his attention towards her. "'Mione what is it," he asked with slight worry hidden in his tone.
"Time," Hermione replied, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. She then turned to Harry with a wry smile on her face, "I think we might be able to solve that problem."
/ - / - / - /
Draco Malfoy was not in a very good mood at the moment. Once more he had been hurried out of his current hiding place, taken somewhere to hunt, and no sooner had they left then he found himself right back here again. Once more as well he found himself convienently kept in the dark about the findings of this particular hunt.
Something had set Caliban off, that much was certain. The man had sent a house elf with something to eat for Draco and then had stalked off to his own room, informing Draco to continue working on his occulumency exercises and study parliamentary procedure. Draco had to admit, the occulumency exercises were allowing him to obtain a level of calm and serenity that he hadn't thought possible, but the calm he had achieved had the side effect of granting him a bit of distance from which to explore his current situation.
He had been raised with the concept of blood purity ingrained in him. He knew of the ways of Death Eaters in vague terms but he had always been told of the heroic deeds against people like Dumbledore and his ilk. Needless to say, his short time in the service of the Dark Lord and as Caliban's apprentice seemed to question those heroic virtues. He had his firsthand experience with that earlier today. Traveling to what Caliban had termed the scene of the crime, they found that three muggles had the misfortune of being there when they arrived. Caliban had wasted no time in dispatching two of them and then disabling the third. Caliban had instructed Draco to kill the third.
It sounded so academic the way that Caliban had said it. Kill her. In line with the ideology he had been told of since he was a young boy, Draco figured it should have been that simple. He knew the incantation, knew it all too well. Yet when it came to it he found himself with a mental block. He had pointed the wand at the woman, had thewords on the tip of his tongue, but something about the pleading look on her face gave him pause and caused him to lock up, unable to move or say anything. Caliban had apparently realized his hesitation, because a few seconds later he had killed the woman himself.
To Draco's surprise, Caliban didn't punish him for his failure. Instead they had apparated back to their hideaway, where Draco currently found himself.
After organizing his mind for the final time tonight, he slowly stood up and exited his room. He meandered down towards the living area. He crept around towards the corner and glanced over, searching for Caliban. He still had some questions for the man, and he wasn't going to be left out of his mission.
He found the elder man sitting on the floor, his legs crossed and his eyes closed. He appeared to be meditating. Draco was about to disturb him when he felt a flicker of energy come off of Caliban. A few moments passed and Draco could begin to see the vestiges of an aura forming over Caliban's entire body. Whatever he was doing, it required massive amounts of concentration. Draco felt the creeping tendrils of legilimency radiating outwards from Caliban in all directions, and in an instant he threw up his makeshift occulumency shields and stood their watching. Idly he made his way over to the couch and sat down, never once wavering from staring at Caliban, intent on figuring out what in the world he was doing.
/ - / - / - /
Voldemort awoke with a slight start. He could feel the creeping sensations of his serveant trying to reach him from across vast distances, muttering to himself he stood up out of his bed and waved his wand, lighting the candles in the room.
For a all-powerful Dark Lord, Voldemort's room was somewhat lacking in decoration. It was simple brick and mortar with a few furnishings set around and several candles lighting it. A small fireplace in the corner provided him with a link to his Death Eaters. Voldemort did not approach the fireplace however. Wrapping himself in his dark green bathrobe, he sat on a small chair in front of the fire, his eyes reflecting the small but intense fire that roared to life at his approach. He sat their a moment, his hands intertwined, before an image began to flicker in front of him. It was ill-defined at first, before taking the form of Caliban de Montesquieu. Caliban's spirit knelt before Voldemort, showing him proper respect.
"Why have you disturbed me Caliban," Voldemort asked coldly, his eyes never blinking at the apparition before him.
"Forgive my intrusion my lord," Caliban replied in a voice that echoed as if he stood in an empty hall, "But I have uncovered a piece of information that I feel you should receive as soon as possible." He paused a moment, staring on an even keel with Voldemort. The Dark Lord kept his straightedged glance on the projection, never once blinking, before he motioned for Caliban to continue.
"This had better be about Potter," he spat out, crossing his legs and resting his arms on the sides of his chair. "Snape has been less than helpful in digging up information from that idiot Dumbledore." A small frown crossed Caliban's face at the mention of that name, before he continued.
"It does, but unfortunately I cannot report that I have found his hiding place. It will take some time yet..." he trailed off, apparently rethinking his words, before continuing. "Young Malfoy and I today traveled to the scene of the crime as it were....the house that you sent Caldwell, Crabbe & Goyle to. Once there I was able to discern four magical resonance trails that I could identify. One was that of the Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. A second was what I guessed to be that of the mudblood that you sent Caldwell to kill." He paused, seeming to grow angry with the next bit of information.
"Continue Caliban," Voldemort said with a bit of anger in his voice, "Lest you try my patience." He knew currently there was little he could do to Caliban, not that he would anyway, but he allowed his anger to swell up as a show anyway. Caliban, used to such displays, virtually ignored it.
"The other two trails were powerful, incredibly so. There's no doubt in my mind that one of them was this self-professed heir of Slytherin." He paused again, his normally calm demeanor replaced with a small bit of fury before dying down. "One of them was Dumbledore, and despite his past I doubt he would lay such a claim now. The other trail....was Potter's."
Voldemort stroked his chin, the firelight eerily mimicking the angry storm clouding his mind at the moment. "Are you daring to claim that my enemy is an heir of Slytherin?"
"No my lord," Caliban quickly corrected, "I am insinuating that he is claiming to be an heir of Slytherin. There is no doubt in my mind that such claims are false." He paused a moment before adding, "I'm not certain why he would make such a claim, but we shall discover it once I bring him before you."
Voldemort nodded and glanced over at the fire for a moment, seeming to be deep in thought. After several seconds he turned his gaze back to Caliban's projection and asked, "How goes the training of young Malfoy?"
Caliban frowned and let out a bit of a sigh, "He may look like his father," Caliban concluded, "But he doesn't have his father's temperment....nor his killer instinct, yet. Give me time, I'm sure that with enough prodding he'll learn to utilize his hatred."
Several moments passed before Voldemort asked, "Are you going to tell him the truth?"
"Yes," Caliban replied simply, "Perhaps that will bring him to his senses."
/ - / - / - /
The Order of the Phoenix, or at least a small portion of it, was currently gathered at Grimmauld Place, summing up the current situation. Dumbledore sat in the kitchen with his Order gathered around him, sans the recent resignation of one Remus Lupin. To his left the Weasleys, McGonagall and Tonks all sat, while to his right Snape, Sturgis, Moody and Hesta Jones flanked him. Dumbledore was actually trying not to nod off while Hesta Jones droned on about the Ministry tracking vampires or some such thing. She monotonously went on at a steady pace, clearly trying to impersonate Professor Binns as best she could. He glanced around and saw that he wasn't the only one. Sturgis was already fast asleep, while Moody had his good eye shut and his magical eye was drooping. Snape seemed disinterested, while Molly and Arthur seemed to be conversing in a nonverbal manner that annoyed Dumbledore to no end. Only McGonagall seemed to be paying attention, and even she was beginning to fade.
By far the most interesting response was that of Tonks. The young auror had acted dejectedly all day, her normally vibrant hair color drooped down to a mousy brown that was well out of order. Dumbledore filed a mental note to converse with her at a convienent opportunity.
After what seemed to be ages, Hesta finished her discertation and sat down. Dumbledore cleared his throat to awake the snoozing Order members before he asked, "Is there any other business to conduct this evening?" He turned to Snape, hopeful that the man had some answers.
The Potions Master slowly stood up, a slight sneer across his face. He was tired, more tired than Albus could ever remember him looking, as if he had been through some kind of ordeal. Whatever it was, Severus didn't broach the subject. He merely glanced over at the headmaster, a slightly worried look inching into the edges of his countenance. "Headmaster," he began, "After some time I have managed to garner a bit of information about the Dark Lord's current plans. Since his attack on the house in Kensington a week ago, he has laid low because of someone he perceives to be a threat to him."
Albus raised an eyebrow. His conversation with Kingsley had given him the identity of who had stopped the attack in Kensington. It was one of the few things he knew for certain about Harry's actions of the last week. He of course knew based on that little family gift he had of tracking magic. He thought briefly how Voldemort might know, while Snape continued.
"Someone stopped the attack on the house, someone incredibly powerful. This person was also claiming to be an heir of Slytherin."
Dumbledore nearly fell over in his seat. Quickly he tried to compose himself, and he glanced around to see if anyone had caught the reaction. Fortunately, only Moody seemed to catch on, as did Snape to a certain degree. Snape dismissed it though as merely surprise and kept talking.
"Furthermore, Voldemort has learned of Potter's disappearance. According to what was said in private chambers, something has interfered with the link between Potter and the Dark Lord. To find out what, and to find this heir of Slytherin, Voldemort has dispatched Caliban de Montesquieu to hunt them down." Dumbledore winced at the ferocious Death Eater's name. Snape finished his tale, leaving out one important detail that no one else need know about at the moment, and sat down.
"Thank you for this information Severus," Dumbledore said with as much of a feigned smile as he stood up. "This meeting is concluded. Arthur, Molly could you wait for me outside please." The two Weasleys nodded and everyone made their way towards the exit. Albus kept watch as everyone left, everyone that is except Alastor Moody.
Dumbledore's feigned happiness immediately disappeared the moment the last Order member was out of the room. He instantly let out a grumbled sigh and slouched back down in his chair. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a lemon drop, tossing it into his mouth without a second thought. Moody simply sat and watched it all, not saying anything for a few moments, before he finally interjected.
"You knew you couldn't fight this forever Albus," Moody said with an even keel. "That prophecy...."
"The prophecy is none of your concern Alastor." Dumbledore interjected quickly. "And it has not come to pass...yet. There is still time to stop it."
"Did you perhaps think that there might be no fighting against it?" Alastor stood to leave, and as he made his way out the door Albus muttered under his breath....
"Every single day since it was made, old friend."
/ - / - / - /
Harry was currently staring at Hermione with what could best be described as a gobsmacked expression on his face. Hermione had just suggested that the solution to their problem was simple really. They needed more time, so why not make more time.
As Harry went through the motions of figuring it out, he quickly settled on the notion of a time turner. But that wouldn't work, Harry quickly reminded himself, for two very important reasons. Firstly, a Time Turner could take you back a few hours, a day at most. He had no real desire to spend the same day over and over and over again. The second, and more practical reason, was that all the Time Turners had been destroyed in the Department of Mysteries. The memory caused him to momentarily shudder.
"That's the beauty of it Harry," Hermione had said with a smile, "We don't need a time turner....we have you."
And so it was that Harry found himself completely and utterly lost. Sensing the look of profound confusion on his face, Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. "Honestly Harry," she smirked, "Haven't you ever wondered how a time turner works?" Harry shook his head.
"It's a combination of things really," Remus interrupted. "The actual time travelling is caused by arthimantic constructs that are rather complicated. The Time Turner itself is constructed and enchanted by way of ancient runes." Suddenly a light clicked on in Remus head, and seemingly in Harry's as well.
"So, you think that if I use my inherited knowledge of runes, that I'll be able to construct a Time Turner?" He paused for a moment, going over the plan in his mind. "But I haven't the slightest clue when it comes to artihmancy."
"That's where I come in," Hermione said. "I was going through some of the books in your library and you have some on arithmancy. It'll be tough, but between the two of us I think we can do it. And better yet, we can probably improve it. We might even be able to get a year's worth of training in the timespan of a single day." Harry stood there for a moment, before a large grin began to spread across his face.
"Have I ever told you you're brilliant Hermione," he replied with a chuckle. Hermione giggled and nodded.
"Once or twice."
Remus looked at the two of them and proceeded to stand up, "I'll try and run interference with Dumbledore to keep him off your tail. But whatever you're going to do to him, I don't suggest you hide forever." He paused for a moment, considering something, "You do know Harry that as head of those 5 houses you are entitled to five votes on the Wizengamot?" Harry nodded. "There's a meeting of the body in about two weeks. I suggest you make your presence known there."
Harry's jaw set and he nodded. "I intend to be," he said with firm resolve, "The old man has a lot to answer for."
/ - / - / - /
Draco sat there for what seemed to be hours, keeping a close eye on Caliban. It came as a quick startle to him when the tendrils of legilimency radiating off of him faded away and Caliban's eyes shot open. He stared ahead, looking past Draco for a moment, before turning a cold blue gaze on the younger Malfoy. He sneered slightly, before standing up and dusting himself off, anticipating Draco's question as he did so.
"It's a modified form of astral projection. Only skilled legilimens can engage in it. It serves me as a direct link to the Dark Lord." He paused a moment before smirking, "You must be coming along well on your occulumency lessons if you were able to detect the tendrils of legilimency coming off my meditating mind."
"We're you contatcing the Dark Lord about our mission," Draco quickly asked, changing the subject. The inquisitive glare Caliban was giving him was a bit disconcerting, as far as Draco was concerned.
"Yes," Caliban said simply, "I confirmed my suspicions that our two quarries are one in the same."
Draco's eyes shot wide at this. "You mean to tell me that Potter has the audacity to call himself an Heir of Slytherin." The boldness of Harry's claim made Draco's insides churn with bile. "How's that even possible. Sure the Potter name is one of the oldest in Britain, but his mother was a mudblood, a filthy winch." He paused before he added, "And he hangs around with Weasel-bee and that worthless mudblood know-it-all. There's no way he could make such a claim."
Surprisingly Caliban chuckled. "Believe it or not Malfoy, that is your decision. But as I said before, do not underestimate our enemy....even if he is a half-blood." He paused before adding, "Would it surprise you to learn that our lord and master is himself a half blood?"
If Draco wasn't sitting down he likely would have collapsed. His countenance took a grim turn. "You lie...." He briefly contemplated pulling his wand on the blasphemer, but kept his anger in check for the moment. Caliban lied, and pulled out his own wand.
"Oh I do not...and I can prove it too. I, Caliban de Montesquieu, do hereby swear on my life and magic that all that I have and will reveal tonight is, to the best of my knowledge, true." There was a bright glow from his wand as the oath took affect, and when it ceased Caliban placed his wand in his pocket. He looked around, as if waiting for a bolt of lightning to come crashing down from the sky. "Since I'm still alive I must be telling the truth." Draco's expression quickly turned from anger to disbelief. There was no earthly way he was possibly telling the truth.
Caliban merely smiled, it was time to give the boy the motivation he needed.
"Of course, Voldemort isn't the only one telling lies about his heritage...." He sat down and leaned forward, his blue gaze piercing directly into Draco's soul and a wicked smile also crossing his face.
"Just like Voldemort, just like Potter," he finished, "You, Draco Malfoy. You are a half-blood as well."
A/N: I hope you see the connection of Half-Blood Prince? (Draco is prince-like, hence the title?). I'll explain his heritage, as well as Caliban's in the next chapter, though if you'd been paying attention you should be able to take a stab as to what connections Caliban might have in his past (the giveaway is in this chapter).
We check up with Ron in the next chapter, and get the scoop on Dumbledore's little deal with Molly and Arthur as well, followed by a desperate act by a desperate man. Meanwhile Harry and Hermione make their preperations for their training, and if I feel like it we'll explore the basement of Potter Manor.
Again, I apologize for the serious delay in getting this chapter out. But I hope it was worth the wait. I realize the short chapter is a bit disheartening....but it's all setting up to the big Wizengamot meeting and Harry's training. And there is death on the horizon, but it's uncertain who yet.