Hi! I'm publishing another chapter. Sorry it's taking so long, a friend on AO3 and I are writing something together called 'The Cursed Trilogy' about Albus and Scorpius' fifth year. It's on her account and I deleted mine. she writes some strange stuff but no hate. Anyway, again, I am sorry for taking so long. Enjoy!

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Harry sat in Dumbledore's office, waiting for his Head Master to show up and explain what was going on. He looked around the room at all the trinkets, books and portraits. He glanced at Fawkes, a Phoenix Harry had met the previous year when it died and rose from the ashes. The bird later helped with saving Ginny and fighting the basilisk. Although that battle was won using the Sword of Gryffindor. And that sword was exactly why he was in the office.

Dumbledore then came in with a smile on his face.

"Hello, Harry," the old man greeted, "I hope you didn't have too many plans for these holidays."

"Not really," Harry replied, "Why?"

Dumbledore pulled a crimson stone as big as a fist from a draw in his desk and handed it to Harry. Harry's eyes widened. Dumbledore had never destroyed the Philosophers stone.

"I tried with magic and fire and it didn't work," Dumbledore explained, "Whenever I hold it I want to destroy it, and I've heard whispers a few times. I couldn't decipher them until a few months ago."

"How do you destroy it?" Harry asked.

"With the sword of Gryffindor. Sadly, the sword has been taken. By I assume Tom Riddle. I want you to take this and track Tom down to get the sword and destroy the stone."

"Professor, if I might ask," Harry started, "what does it do?"

"I'm hoping no one ever finds out," Dumbledore put the stone down, "But it is a dark object of black magic, I can tell you that. And it needs to be destroyed."

Harry nodded before putting it in his pocket and getting up to leave. He and Dumbledore exchanged goodbyes and he quickly went back to his dorm to finish packing. He was going to visit his godfather Sirius to get to know him. If things went well, he might be allowed to be his legal guardian. 

While he was packing he spoke to Ron.

"So," Ron sighed, "Dumbledore wants us to go on this great adventure over the holidays to destroy an artefact from two years ago?"

"Exactly," Harry chuckled.

"What about getting to know Sirius?"

"I can do both," Harry clipped his bags closed, "I'll keep it to myself at the beginning, and if I think he won't act weird about it, I'll tell him." 

"He's an adult," Ron said, "They all think we can't handle ourselves."

Harry shrugged before they pulled their bags off their beds and left for Hogsmeade Station. The train was their way home. It was also how they got to Hogwarts. They waited at the station with Hermione and all of Ron's siblings, promising to meet up so they could find the sword. The train ride went as they all usually did. Planning, playing and arguing. Once they reached Platform 9 3/4 - a hidden platform that only supernaturals can get to, through a wall in between platform nine and ten at Kings Cross Station. 

Harry found Sirius and went up to him.

"So," Sirius smiled, "you're the little rugrat  I remember from years ago?"

"That would be me," Harry smiled at the man. He had long black hair, silver eyes and a little facial hair.

"Well, can I just say you look just like your father," Sirius commented, "Everything from the untameable black hair and face shape. But you have Lily's eyes."

Harry smiled, "I've been told that a lot," Harry and Sirius started walking, "So if you were close with my parents, did you know Remus Lupin?"

"Mooney?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, "Yeah I knew him. We were great friends too. Remus, your Dad, Peter and I were practically inseparable. Named ourselves the marauders."

"The marauders?" Harry asked, "As in the marauders map?"

"Yeah?" Sirius seemed shocked, "Filch took it off us in our seventh year."

"My friend Ron Weasley has to older twin brothers, Fred and George," Harry explained, "They stole it from his office in their first year. Not even Dumbledore knows the school as well as they do."

"Blimey," Sirius smiled, "Good to know our legacy still carries on."

Harry nodded.

"Here we are," Sirius said when they got to a fireplace, "Do you know how these work?"

"Not really," Harry admitted.

"Simple really," Sirius took rock salt from his robes and put it in place.

"Incedio," the salt caught fire, "Now just stick with me and you'll be fine."

Harry watched Sirius step into the flames and followed him in, the fire lapping at them.

"Hold me hand," Harry obeyed, "Objevit."

And when they stepped out of the fire, they were in a living room.

"Welcome to Twelve Grimmauld Place."

Harry looked around in awe. It wasn't exactly a manor or mansion, but it was definitely upper middle class. The furniture was nice and well kept, the chandelier was cobweb free, and even the fireplace they had just crawled out of was nice. He picked up a picture frame of someone that looked like a younger Sirius and someone else.

"That's my brother and I," Sirius smiled.

"Well, where is your brother now?" Harry asked.

Sirius' face turned grim, "Regulus died a year before your parents," he said, "He had tried to find some way of killing Tom without dark magic and in the process got himself murdered by Tom."

"I'm so sorry," Harry said.

"It's fine. It was a while back. Most people don't even know it happened."

"That must suck for him," Sirius chuckled at that.

"He was always in the shadows. Bit anti-social really. But I like to imagine he's somewhere with Lily and James, and all the other fallen heroes watching over us."

"I hope so too."

"Well, enough with this sad stuff," Sirius said, "Go put your things away."

Harry smiled before going upstairs to look for a bedroom and unpack. Once he found one he pulled his bag open and began planning. Hermione was going to figure out where he might stay and they needed to be prepared. If Tom was already strong enough to sneak into Hogwarts undetected, who else knew what he was capable of.

When Harry finished unpacking he went downstairs to find Sirius in the kitchen with some food and appliances.

"I hope you like stir fry," Sirius retorted.

Harry chuckled, "Yeah, I haven't had it much but from what I have had, it's not bad."

"Thank Merlin for that," Sirius let out a sigh of relief, "Would've been pretty bad if I had made something you didn't like."

Harry laughed a little, "You want some help?"

"No, I can handle it," Sirius turned around, "I would suggest reading, but if you're anything like your dad you would rather anything else."

"Guess I inherited some traits from him after all," Harry joked.

"Oh trust me," Sirius said, "if he really is watching he is deeply proud of all the trouble you've gotten into. I however, am proud that you made it out alive. And I would prefer you telling me of any save the day plans," Sirius gave him a look.

"Am I really that easy to read?" Harry asked.

"Harry, if you were a quidditch game, it would be the most predictable game I have ever witnessed," Sirius put the chopped vegetables into a wok, "Now, what are you doing this time?"

"Tracking Tom down because he has the Sword of Gryffindor."

"That won't be easy," Sirius said, "Well, I think he'd be hiding somewhere no one would suspect, but it's not so difficult to find that he's unable to get there. Like, some land his family owned."

"You're helping?" Harry enquired.

"It is my experience that telling children what they can't do only makes them want to do it more," Sirius added some other ingredients, "And at least this way, I'll know where you are, you won't have to figure things out on your own and I can make sure you don't die."

Harry nodded, "Sounds reasonable."

"Good," Sirius said, "because I've almost finished this, and I'm pretty sure we're both hungry."

-~-

Hermione asked to take a quick stop at the library before heading home because she wanted to figure something out. Harry had said they were supposed to figure out where Tom was hiding and so she went where she always went in matters like these. The library. 

She left her parents in the car and greeted the librarian.

"I was wondering if you had any records on murders in the UK?" Hermione asked.

"Now Miss Granger," the librarian started, "why would someone as sweet as you need that?"

"HASS assignment," Hermione lied, "Have to choose a crime to look at and write about it and I chose murder." (I don't know if other countries have HASS, but I'm going with it.)

"Oh," the librarian got up, "Well in that case I think we have a few."

"Any about a family with the last name Riddle?"

"Yes," the librarian said, "From the late 1940's. Here."

The librarian pulled out a file and Hermione thanked her before sifting through it. But she had to get home very soon and so she put in her bag and left with a smile to the librarian before getting in her car. Her conscience was telling her it was bad, but stealing that file was for the great or good of the entire supernatural community.

-~-

Draco stepped out of his fireplace and called out to his parents. His mother smiled before returning to what she was doing. Draco sighed before bringing his bags up to his room and unpacking. He folded his clothes and put them away. He placed his books and things neatly on his desk before putting his toiletries in his bathroom and placed his bag under his bed. He looked around the large room and flopped onto his bed.

This was the life. The life that everybody wanted, but not many had. A large manor in a secluded area with a lovely garden and even peacocks. A foyer with a grand chandelier and large staircases framing the door to the rest of the house. A kitchen worthy of royalty with a dining room so big, there was a fireplace and a table large enough for twenty odd people. A library with books collected over the centuries. Show rooms displaying antiques and family heirlooms. Studies Kings would be jealous of. Bedroom after bedroom, each housing a four poster bed with silk sheets, a seating area, a desk, a wardrobe double the size of any normal walk in and a bathroom that cost just as much as every other room. Sitting rooms, all with fireplaces and trinkets with no uses. And a glamorous ballroom where the finest of parties could be held.

Draco could never understand what was so important about having this lifestyle. Although he would much rather it to being a Weasley, it really wasn't all that it seemed to be. Sure, the Malfoy's were rich and very influential when it came to government matters, but you couldn't buy happiness. No amount of money, no large house, and no upper class lifestyle would ever be able to bring you joy unless you earned it. And Draco knew that all to well.

But his eyes opened suddenly and he shot up at the sound of his mother screaming. If he could hear it, she was close. He dashed towards the sound until he found his fathers study.

"Mother?" He asked, "What's going - " and then he saw it. His father lying on the floor with his heart beside him. And then he began screaming to. Lucius Malfoy had never been the best father, but that didn't change anything. Draco dropped to the floor next to his mother and they began crying. Lucius taught him his first spell, he taught him how to fight, he taught him how to ride a broom. And now he was gone. Lucius was gone.

Draco dried his tears, knowing his father would yell if he ever saw him crying. He helped his mother into her bedroom and let her rest before starting to go back to his. His arm had started to ache after he shot up in his bedroom, and he supposed it meant he needed to redress it. But when he opened the door he met his stalker instead.

"Can I just say these photos are nothing like the real thing," the vampire smirked, "You're much cuter in person."

Draco stormed over and snatched the picture, "Is this a joke to you? My father is dead!"

The vampire looked confused, "I thought you'd be happy about that?"

"Happy about - " something clicked in Draco's head, "Oh, you did this didn't you? You killed my father didn't you!? What? Did you think I would help you!"

Draco started hitting him and chanting 'I hate you' over and over until the vampire stopped him.

"Draco!" The vampire shouted.

"What!?" Draco exclaimed in reply.

"Your arm!" Draco looked back at his bad arm and saw it was as good as new.

"How - "

"I was right then," the vampire interrupted, "It was your father that did that to you."

"That, was none of your business," Draco punched the vampire in the face, taking him by surprise, "Get out."

"As you wish," and with that, the vampire disappeared with a whoosh sound.

Draco began to cry once again before hitting the floor and curling into a ball. He felt like he'd never stop crying. And he didn't for a while. He couldn't muster up any force to stop himself until he was all out of tears. And then he just sat on the floor, too exhausted from all of his crying to even be bothered to get up.

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Wow! Who would've guessed that plot twist? How about literally everyone? Anyway, please comment, vote and make suggestions. (I would also like some followers please? 🥺) Thank you!

      - Turtlefreakakw2 <3