The Lost One

Chapter Nine: Blood Doesn't Always Mean Family

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or The Black Jewels Novels.

Author's Note: Hey guys, what can I say, the rumours of my untimely death have been greatly exaggerated and I am now back with an update! First of all thanks to everyone who took the time to review, alert and favourite. You guys are awesome! Secondly, what are you still doing up here listening to me ramble on? Go forth and read!

When Harry woke he barely recognized the infirmary at first. The blurred outline of cauldrons on small bluebell flames and the sound of chopping sizzling and bubbling didn't exactly fit with the familiar feel of starched spell-sanitized sheets and flimsy hospital pajamas.

"Great, I'm gonna be chopped up and used as potions ingredients," he muttered eying the bubbling cauldrons and other potion related paraphernalia warily.

A quick psychic tendril confirmed that he was in fact in the infirmary and that he wasn't alone by any stretch.

"Relax Potter. No self-respecting potions master would stoop so low as to use ingredients of such inferior quality."

Harry groped for his glasses, unsurprised to see Snape and Hermione slaving over the triad of cauldrons, expressions of tense concentration on their faces. Beyond the shield of the bed curtains hiding the potions from view Harry could see Ron who was sitting up in the bed across the way. His leg was still held straight and immobile but it was free of its splint and bandages and Ron was looking far less pale.

Lupin, who was lounging in the bed next to Harry, was looking tired but happy. There were a few new scratches on his face and arms but he looked to be in far better shape than after the previous full moon. He seemed less thin and more energetic. Harry had no doubt that this was because of the gigantic black dog that was resting at the foot of his bed his head on his paws, one of them wrapped in a magical bandage, and his grey eyes watching Snape's every move.

"What happened?" asked Harry.

It looked as though he'd been asleep for a good long while and his memory of leaving the Shrieking Shack and making his way up to the castle was hazy and unclear.

"You passed out," Hermione explained briskly, adding a bit of fine powder to the cauldron she was overseeing, unperturbed by Snape's watchful gaze as she continued stirring. "As soon as we got to the infirmary you just sort of crumpled to the floor."

"Gave us a right scare too," added Ron.

"Madam Pomfrey said it was because you were suffering from acute magical exhaustion."

"With all the wandless magic you were throwing around yesterday I don't know why we were all so surprised," Ron snorted, "But since we had Pettigrew with us they didn't pay you much mind or ask any questions, they just sort of dumped you in a bed and left you there."

"They did that for all of us actually," Hermione said, "Madam Pomfrey had a hard time getting Pettigrew stable enough to be transported to St. Mungo's. Did you really snap every bone in his body?"

"I really did," said Harry laconically.

Hermione and Ron both winced but after a moment Hermione continued, "They transferred him to St. Mungo's the day before yesterday. Sirius is officially pardoned as well, thanks to Professor Snape."

Snape looked ill at the thought.

"I can assure you, allowing that mongrel to walk free was never my intention," he sneered.

From his spot on the bed Sirius lifted his head and growled at Snape, exposing his long canines.

"Easy Padfoot," soothed Lupin.

"Not to worry professor," Harry snorted, "I don't think any of us were under any illusions about your intentions."

"In any case," interrupted Hermione, "The whole school's been in an uproar following the build up of evidence against Pettigrew and the start of the trial in the Prophet. Professor Snape was able to use a combination of veritaserum and mind magics to extract the memories of the night your parents died from Pettigrew before they woke him up to testify on his own behalf, and of course everyone has seen the Dark Mark on his arm now."

"The Dark Mark?" queried Harry.

"It's his mark, all the deatheaters have it," Hermione explained, "Honestly Harry, don't you ever read?"

"Then do you have it, professor?" Harry asked, turning to Snape.

"Harry that's not really polite—" Lupin started to say but he was interrupted by Snape's imperious hand.

Snape, for his part, yanked up his left sleeve with a snarl and arched one narrow black brow at Harry as if daring him to comment.

"Satisfied Potter?"

Harry leaned forward to get a better look at the mark, it was almost like a tattoo a red outline of a snake slithering out of a skull and if it weren't for the fact that the longer Harry stared at it the more he was convinced it was moving he would have thought it an ordinary bit of tasteless body art.

"What does it do?" he asked curiously, he didn't really expect that Snape would answer him but he knew that Hermione or Lupin probably would.

To Harry's surprise though, Snape gave a put upon sigh, yanked down his sleeve and returned his attention to his potion, but he spoke anyways in his slow, faintly mocking, lecturing voice.

"The Dark Mark is a brand of ownership. It proclaims the deatheaters the Dark Lord's property and it ties them to him for life. Once you are marked there is no escape from him. He can find you anywhere, summon you from anywhere, and the brand is impossible to remove."

"So that makes you a deatheater then, why aren't you in prison?" asked Harry casually.

"It became clear to me early on in my service to the Dark Lord was not the man I'd been led to believe he was, that all was not as it seemed, that I had bound myself to a monster with a pretty face and a silver tongue, but as I have said there is no escape from the Dark Lord's service outside of death. I could not simply walk away from the mess I'd landed myself in. I was forced to serve and endure. When I reached the end of my tolerance I turned myself over to Dumbledore and he offered me the chance to redeem myself by spying for his little resistance group. When the Dark Lord fell I was put on trial and, with Dumbledore's backing, absolved of my crimes."

Harry hummed a bit, turning Snape's story over in his mind. He wanted to ask about how Snape had known Lily, he remembered all too clearly how Snape had reacted to the knowledge that Pettigrew had been the one to betray Lily and James, but seeing the dark expression written on his professor's face he decided to save his questions for another time.

"How long have I been asleep then if the trial is already progressing?" he asked, changing the subject.

"You've been out of it for four days," Lupin answered, "Truthfully we were beginning to worry about you."

"You're actually quite lucky that this whole business with Pettigrew is causing such a stir," said Hermione, "Professor Dumbledore has been gone all this week. He was called in to testify about the Fidelius Charm he performed for the Potters and then of course since he's a member of the Wizengamot he's been down at the ministry, otherwise he'd be asking questions about just how Pettigrew got into his current state. Professor Snape and Professor Lupin both gave their testimonies, of course, and the aurors did some investigating of their own, but I think Dumbledore suspects there's more to this than just what we've told him."

"Let him wonder," said Harry dismissively, "He won't be able to divine the truth and nobody who knows the truth will tell him."

"Anyway, we're going to have to appear in court at some point too," said Hermione, "As soon as Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey declare us legitimate witnesses."

"They have to make sure that Pettigrew hasn't been mucking around with our heads," added Ron darkly.

"Is that what all this is for then?" Harry asked gesturing at the potions set up around his bed.

"No," answered Hermione before anyone else could, "It's just Professor Snape's excuse for brewing in the infirmary."

"I did say I was going to perform my own tests to verify your little tale, Potter, and I shall."

"What kind of potion are you brewing?" asked Harry eying the cauldrons with a new wariness.

"Not to worry Harry, we've been supervising Severus for the entire process, the potions are harmless," said Lupin catching Harry's dubious look.

Snape shot Lupin a glare.

"Miss. Granger, and I are brewing a combination of a genealogy potion and a revealing draft," Snape explained, "This particular combination is often used in the weaving of family tapestries for the purebloods. It reveals a person's family ties."

"By increasing the potency of the potion you can create a detailed family tree going back generations, it is a positively fascinating process," added Hermione, her eyes glittering with the light of newfound knowledge.

Harry and Ron shared a tolerantly amused look over the top of her bushy brown curls.

"This brew will be able to determine whether or not you are the biological child of Lily and James Potter and in turn either verify or disprove your claims," said Snape.

"We're almost done now, all we need is a sample of your blood to add to the genealogy potion and we can find out who your parents and grandparents are and a little bit about them. Of course we only had so much time so the potion will only go back four generations but still, you'll get the chance to learn even more about your birth family!" Hermione elaborated excitedly.

"You actually woke up just in the nick of time, mate," said Ron, "They were just going to stick you and be done with it."

Harry raised a brow at Hermione who didn't deny Ron's claim but had the grace to at least look abashed, unlike Snape.

"Sorry Harry," she said, "But I would have totally recorded the results and told you everything!"

"It's fine, Mione," sighed Harry shaking his head, some things would change after all but not Hermione's quest for more knowledge, "Right, so, you need my blood to complete the potion then?"

"Indeed," Snape confirmed, "The potion is complete, the blood is merely necessary to identify whose lineage is in question."

Harry nodded. With a bit of concentration he used craft to lengthen his nails and with a flick of his thumb sliced open the pad of his index finger.

"There you go," he offered, holding his hand out.

Snape was quick to snatch Harry's wrist in a grip like a vice and drag him forward on the hospital bed. He then squeezed three drops of Harry's blood into the nearest cauldron.

"And blood will sing to blood," Harry muttered, watching the drops fall.

His blood sizzled as soon as it hit the liquid inside the cauldron and the whole mixture hissed and crackled threateningly for a moment before subsiding into a soft golden colour.

Snape stirred the mixture a few times until his was satisfied with the color and consistency and then carefully removed the cauldron from the flame.

"Miss. Granger, if you would."

Hermione was quick to ladle three large scoops from the cauldron of viscous opaque slime that she had been overseeing into the cauldron that held the genealogy potion. Snape immediately began stirring counting rotations under his breath, his dark brows furrowed in concentration.

Hermione took out a long shallow pewter tray that looked rather like a muggle baking sheet and carefully took the third cauldron off the heat and poured the liquid slowly and evenly into the tray with the help of magic.

Snape continued to stir until the golden liquid in his cauldron had thickened into a soft cream colored paste that put Harry strangely in mind of alfredo sauce. He then set his wooden stirring spoon aside and with a wave of his wand conjured a blast of warm air over the tray. Almost immediately, the liquid in the tray began to harden into a waxy dark purple substance like a bunch of mashed up purple crayon or an unrolled candle.

Snape reached over the cauldron and snatched up a wide paintbrush from the temporary workbench he and Hermione had set up. Carefully he dipped it into the cream colored paste and, careful not to allow any drips, began spreading it over the waxy purple substance in the tray with long even strokes until it coated the waxy substance completely.

"There," he said finally setting the brush aside, a satisfied expression touching his usually glowering face, "It should not be long now."

Everybody got up out of their beds, though Ron needed some help from Hermione because of the spell holding his leg in place, and gathered around the tray of potion, peering down at it in interest. Even Sirius risked returning to his human form to get a proper look.

"Look there, it's moving!" said Ron, pointing.

Even as they watched the creamy paste began to melt away from the waxy substance underneath at top and bottom edges of the tray, revealing a name in simple block lettering.

"Graeson Moray SaDiablo," read Professor Lupin as the full name was revealed near the bottom of the tray.

"Lalitha 'Lala' SaDiablo and…Warrick Tannis," said Hermione squinting at the names nearest to her.

"That'll be your great-grandparents then," said Ron, watching the relatively short but oddly complex family tree evolve, "If this here is you. Read it out from the top would you Mione?"

"Alright, well, according the interpretations shown in the book," said Hermione glancing down at the text for reference, "Lalitha and Warrick were never married but they had one son Saetan SaDiablo, and they both had other children but not with each other so they're not listed. Erm, I don't understand these dates but they both lived an extraordinarily long time, longer than even Nicholas Flamel before they died."

"Intriguing," muttered Snape his dark eyes flicking over the revealed information and probably taking it all in faster than Hermione could explain it.

Harry too, was absorbing it all. Everything revealed so far supported what Lorn had told him of his parentage, if Lalitha had been a whore then Warrick had probably been a customer and he'd never claimed Saetan as his own.

"So your grandfather is Saetan, and he married a woman called Hekatah first and had three sons, the first was Mephis then Peyton and the third one was unnamed and apparently died shortly after birth. After that Hekatah had an extramarital affair with a man called Andulvar Yaslana and they had a son together called Ravenar and he had children but, this line means that they're too far removed from you genetically to show on the tree, oh but an ancestor of that child, Luthvian Yaslana had a child with your grandfather, a son named Lucivar Yaslana."

"Wait, wait," Ron interrupted, "How is that even possible? Wouldn't he be too old to have kids?"

"Er, yes, normally that would be the case, but it seems that he's still living even after thousands of years so that probably has something to do with it. Saetan divorced Hekatah before Ravenar was born and then there are no more entries until she died, which was around the same time as Mephis, Peyton and Ravenar, but Saetan lived."

"Yeah, okay, but how?" demanded Ron.

"It doesn't say, Ronald," snapped Hermione.

Ron glanced over at Harry.

"All I know is that there are three long-lived races in the Realms, and that my grandfather belongs to one of them," said Harry with a shrug.

"What about Harry's birth parents?" asked Lupin, reading the tree carefully, "Luthvian and Saetan didn't get together until long after Peyton was dead."

"Well according to this Peyton only ever had one son, that's Harry, and never married. Harry's mother was Shira, there's no last name mentioned, and she had Graeson, that is, Harry, and then married a man named Zarek and had three other children and lived out a relatively normal lifespan before dying. Mephis had two daughters and a son with his wife but the tree doesn't show more than that and they're all dead."

"What about this entry?" asked Sirius pointing to the tree.

"Ah, that's Harry's grandfather again, Saetan had relations with a woman called Tersa shortly before he was with Luthvian and they also had a son called Saetan Daemon SaDiablo," said Hermione pointing to the relevant branches to illustrate.

"Merlin Harry," whistled Ron, impressed, "Your granddad sure does know how to get around."

"Yeah, it looks that way," agreed Harry studying the names on the tree, committing them to memory.

Reluctantly he turned away from the tree and turned to face Snape, who was eying him carefully.

"Well professor?" Harry challenged, "Are you satisfied that I'm telling the truth?"

"For the moment," said Snape, his lip curling away from his teeth in an impressive sneer, "Whether or not your claims about the nature of your so-called people and the existence of these separate Realms are true or not still remains to be seen."

"Well, I suppose that'll have to be good enough," shrugged Harry.

Snape turned his back on Harry with a small exasperated huff and set to cleaning up his workstation, cleaning out the cauldrons and vanishing the gloop that was quickly becoming encrusted on his utensils.

"I assume that you want to keep this?"

Harry shook his head no, reluctantly.

"But Harry—" protested Hermione, shocked.

"It's not that I don't want to keep it," he said forestalling Hermione's tirade, "It's just a dangerous thing to have, as far as the wizarding world is concerned I am Harry Potter and that's the way it'll have to be for now. Maybe forever."

"Stop being melodramatic," scoffed Snape, even as he vanished the contents of the tray.

"I'm being realistic," Harry snapped, "There are no Blood here, no one has ever heard of us, so I can't just be Graeson SaDiablo, Warlord Prince. Besides which, everybody and their grandmothers know of Harry Potter, he's a symbol, a figurehead as much as anything and corrupting that image is dangerous."

Surprising everybody Sirius moved closer to Harry and gave him a nudge, "Blood doesn't always mean family," he started, "Merlin knows I'll never get on with my relatives, but I found a family who appreciated me for who I am and you've found one two. Me n' Remy, your friends, you don't have to be anyone but yourself with us. I don't know if anyone told you this but when Lily and James staged your birth they named me your godfather."

"I know," answered Harry with a nod.

"So, that is, once my name is cleared, if you wanted, you could stay with me."

Harry's eyes went wide.

"You mean, come live with you?"

Sirius winced, "I understand of course if you'd rather stay with your aunt and uncle—"

"Are you kidding me? Of course I'll come live with you!"

Sirius broke out in a wide smile that made him look ten years younger and for the first time Harry could see the handsome laughing man from his parents' wedding photos in the gaunt emaciated figure before him.

"As touching as this little display is," sneered Snape, "Black, change back into the mutt you are. You can't be caught here before you are exonerated."

Sirius pulled a face but Remus tugged at his hair and fixed him with a stern look.

"Severus is right, and I'm not about to watch you get hauled off to Azkaban again for any length of time."

Sirius gave a reluctant nod of agreement and between one heartbeat and the next a large shaggy black dog was standing where the man had been.

It turned out that Sirius had changed just in the nick of time too because right at that moment Madam Pomfrey came striding in.

"What are you three doing out of bed?" she demanded, hands on her hips, glaring down her nose at the group of them.

"Now Poppy," said Dumbledore soothingly following her into the infirmary at a more sedate pace, casually popping one of his infamous lemon drops into his mouth, "I'm sure they just felt the need to stretch their legs after spending so much time cooped up in bed."

"You Mr. Weasley should not be doing leg stretching of any kind," snapped Madam Pomfrey, "I'll not be pleased if I have to re-mend a crooked leg just because you were impatient. And you two," she added rounding upon Harry and Remus, "You are both far too exhausted to be wandering about, I've been lenient allowing that dog, but on this I will not be swayed! Back in bed, the lot of you!"

Obediently the three supposed invalids crawled back into their beds shooting each other wry looks behind the school matron's turned back.

"Ah Severus, just who I've been looking for. Would you care for a lemon drop? No? Well that's your loss. I take it that the potion was successful?"

"Indeed," Snape nodded, "Lupin was there as a witness, their minds have not been tampered with they can testify if need be." Snape said, lying through his teeth to Dumbledore without batting an eyelid. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have I root canal I'd rather be suffering."

He swept from the room with his usual dramatic flare, cloak billowing behind him.

"That man," huffed Madam Pomfrey, as soon as Snape was out of earshot, "So stubbornly prickly. I suppose it was too much to hope that teaching would mellow him. Such constant bad temper isn't good for a person's health."

"I'd say if anything Madam, that the stress of the job has made him worse," chuckled Lupin, "Perhaps you should set out a bed and confine him here until his disposition improves?"

"Don't get cheeky with me Remus Lupin or I'll confine you here until his disposition improves," she scolded even as she smiled at him fondly.

"Hardly a threat Madam, for who could resist the allure of your sparkling company?"

"Flatterer," she accused blushing slightly.

"If I might interrupt for a moment," chuckled Dumbledore, "I just dropped by to inform you all that it has been decided Mr. Potter, Miss. Granger and Mr. Weasley, will give your testimonies in Sirius Black's privatized trial at the end of the week. If we're quite lucky Mr. Black himself will be there to testify on his own behalf." He added fixing his twinkling blue gaze on Padfoot who'd jumped back into bed with Remus and was keeping the werewolf's feet warm while being as unobtrusive and well behaved as a giant black dog could be. "Poppy, I will leave them to your tender mercies."

"Yes, yes, thank you Albus," said the nurse, waving the headmaster off carelessly, as she checked Ron's leg and made him drink some potion or another before bustling over to Harry's bedside.

"Mr. Potter, I'm glad to see you up and about, how are you feeling?"

"I'm actually starving," Harry confessed, his stomach gurgling emptily.

"I've no doubt," huffed Madam Pomfrey, "You managed to consume what little fat you have on your body with whatever it was you did to drain yourself so thoroughly. Drink this."

Wrinkling his nose in anticipation of the taste, Harry quickly knocked back the glass of green slop that tasted like wheatgrass and dirt clods.

"That's vile," he coughed.

"That will keep your magic from digesting your body down to nothing until you gain some weight back," she said, pouring another glass for Remus who drank it with his nose pinched, "You're both already far too skinny. I'll order some lunch from the kitchens. Miss. Granger," she added warningly, leaning around the doorframe of her office, "You may remain with your friends until after lunch and then I must ask you to leave them in peace. They need rest to heal."

"Yes Madam Pomfrey," agreed Hermione meekly.

Madam Pomfrey gave a satisfied nod and then bustled into her office, presumably to order lunch for her invalids.

"You and Madam Pomfrey get along pretty well, professor," Hermione commented seating herself on Harry's bed casually.

"Well she did take care of me during full moon for seven years, and lest we forget, James and Sirius, more often Sirius, were in and out of the hospital wing all the time as a result of pranks gone wrong or getting on the wrong side of Severus' hexes," Lupin explained, "And how many times must I ask you to call me Remus? After all as of today I am no longer your teacher."

"What? Really? Why?" demanded Harry, "You're the best Defence professor we've ever had!"

"Not that it was really any contest," Ron said thinking of their first two Defence teachers.

"Ah, with the trial being so publicized I was quickly exposed as a werewolf and Dumbledore was decidedly swamped with owls bearing the complaints of concerned parents. I decided to save him the trouble of having to fire me and quit, yesterday when he came to talk to Severus about the potions," Remus explained.

"It's not fair," Hermione bristled, "I outright prejudice! Professor Dumbledore has more than proven that, with the proper precautionary measures in place, you're not a danger to the staff or students."

"Yes, well, given that it has now been revealed to him that I spent my school years turning my nose up at the rules he put in place for the safety of both myself and the other students, I won't ask him to fight a losing battle on my behalf and that is the end of it," he said firmly.

There was an awkward silence that descended over the room and Harry was quick to break it.

"So Hermione, how did you get Snape to let you help with the potions?" he asked.

"Oh, well," she started a pleased flush tinting her cheeks, "With all the fuss of the trial Professor Snape wasn't able to brew continuously but the potions are delicate enough that if they're in stasis too long it ruins them. On the second day I offered to stir them and take them off the flame and yesterday he called me not entirely incompetent and let me have free reign over one of the cauldrons."

"Wow, that's high praise, coming from Snape, good work Mione," said Harry impressed.

"It was nothing," she said, but she was grinning and flushed with success even as she said it. "More importantly I've been thinking about what you told us about Warlord Princes back in the Shrieking Shack and I've been wondering why it's only really starting to affect you now? Of course we've noticed your temper getting worse over the years but that is really nothing compared to…well, what you did that night."

"It's because I'm getting older," shrugged Harry, "I don't really know how to explain it, but as the Body matures so does the Mind and the Self, the Warlord Prince in me is part of the Self as I get older and stronger and, hopefully, more mature, my instincts and powers also mature and sharpen. The reason it's slower going for me anyway is because my father was part of one of the long-lived races."

"Well it's a good thing you held out this long, mate," said Ron matter-of-factly, "It'd be bad if you went back to the Dursleys and murdered them in a fit of pique."

"Why would you do that?" asked Lupin, shocked.

"The Dursleys don't like me very much," said Harry simply, "And the feeling is mutual."

Ron snorted in disgust, "They don't feed you, they put bars on your windows, the rags you wear are worse than mine. They're one step away from outright abuse."

Harry said nothing, just glad that he'd never told Ron and Hermione where he'd slept for the first ten or so years of his life.

Lupin and Sirius were both growling low in their throats.

"Well you're not going back there anyway," said Hermione firmly, "If it turns out that you can't stay with Sirius you'll come home with Ron or I. I've been looking over Madam Pomfrey's notes and you won't get nearly enough to eat if you go back there."

"That sounds like I don't have much of a choice," said Harry arching a brow in query.

"It rather does, doesn't it?" answered Hermione with a toss of her head.

"As you wish, Lady."

"Then, will you serve?"

"I will serve," he agreed solemnly, bowing his head. Then he looked up grinned wickedly, "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into."

"I feel confident I can handle whatever you can dish out, Graeson SaDiablo." said Hermione.

He smiled a bit; part of what he loved about Hermione was her confidence. She dove headlong into new situations and experiences, often without a hint of fear. He wondered if she could perceive the new awareness he had of her? The moment he'd agreed to serve the Other in him had shifted and narrowed his focus. It was intense, looking at the world with a completely different set of priorities, but it felt right. It felt good.

"Here." With a wave of his hand and a bit of concentration a stack of cheap spiral ringed notebooks appeared, dropping into Hermione's lap. "Those are all my notes from my lessons with Lorn, everything I know about the Blood and Protocol are in there, you'll probably need them."

Hermione's eyes lit up like he'd told her Christmas and her birthday came twice this year and she immediately began reading the first notebook.

"How did you do that?" asked Ron, before shaking his head, "Never mind, craft, right? You know she's going to be useless until she gets done with those."

"I'll convince Madam Pomfrey to let her stay until curfew since she's not disturbing us and then we can make sure she eats and rests," said Harry, carding a hand through Hermione's curls as she unconsciously settled more comfortably against him.

AN: And there you have it folks! Next up the long awaited trial! I apologize for the super-long wait between updates (almost a year this time, ouch) but I still can't guarantee any regularity. It is my muse you see, she is a capricious little such and such a thing and for some reason it seems I can only write for this story when I'm not feeling well.

In any case, please take the time to review and let me know what you guys think!