In early November, the Magical Daily had reported the impeachment of Cornelius Fudge from office as Minister of Magic. The vote of no confidence called by Lord Cyrus Greengrass had been backed by a majority of the Wizengamot and even the public was all for it. They had enough of the incompetent Minister and they wanted someone who would act.
The election for the office of the Minister of Magic was complex. The people who wished to run for office needed support from both the public as well as the members of the Wizengamot. Those who believed they had support would submit their names to the Chief Warlock. The contestants would then do their best to sway the masses and once the election campaign was done, the election would be held. All citizens of Magical Britain and Ireland who were above the age of seventeen had the right to vote. The top three contestants who had the majority of the votes would then proceed to the Wizengamot. The members would then vote on who they wanted as Minister. The witch or wizard who won the confidence of the Wizengamot would be sworn in as Minister. He or she held office for the next seven years. But as Minister Fudge found out, they could be impeached early if the Wizengamot reached a majority which was not as easy as people thought. Fudge was only the second Minister to be impeached in the last two hundred and fifty years.
The Chief Warlock, on the other hand, was someone who was elected only by members of the Wizengamot. After Fudge's disgraced exit, Dumbledore was filled to the brim with work. Until the new Minister was appointed, he was the Acting Minister with limited powers. The Chief Warlock was a powerful post, but it was quite different from that of the Minister. Both of them were equally important. Right now, there was a tight race between the candidates. Dumbledore had extended his support to Amos Diggory from the side of the liberals. He had a good feeling about that win until he received an affidavit from the newest contestant.
Sirius Orion Black, the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, the Regent of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter, Gryffindor and Lestrange, husband to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was contesting for the post of Minister of Magic. Dumbledore felt his plans crashing around his ears. At any other time, he wouldn't have been worried, but he had sensed the subtle shift in power in the Wizengamot over the recent months, especially after Harry's elevation to Heir Gryffindor and the appearance of Dylan Lestrange. Since then, Sirius and Amelia had not been afraid to make bold speeches which they otherwise wouldn't dare. Sirius already had the support of the traditionalists through intimidation and blackmail. The centrists were firmly in the pocket of Cyrus Greengrass who would support Sirius. The liberals could see that Sirius could offer them better protection than Amos Diggory.
It was an outstanding move.
However, Dumbledore was not out of options. The best way to undermine Sirius' support base was to subtly destroy his credibility amongst the public. While he was doing that, he also stirred the Bowtruckle's nest with the traditionalists so that they would drop Sirius and choose a new candidate.
It had worked ... for a while. He had not anticipated one important variable.
Harry Potter – the Boy-Who-Lived.
When Harry had realised what Dumbledore was up to he had swiftly taken charge on the advice of his godfather. With a few well-placed interviews in the Magical Daily and the E-Mirror channel of the Magical Daily News, he soon had people flocking to Sirius, making them look like they had been betrayed by everyone, including Albus Dumbledore. The questions Harry had raised regarding the Fidelius Charm, the Potter Will and Sirius' incarceration made Dumbledore's job more difficult.
Meanwhile, in the Wizengamot, Dumbledore's plans seemed to have succeeded. Sirius certainly struggled for a while there, which was when Harry entered the fray with the public, leaving his godfather to take charge of the governing body. Corban Yaxley had been given support from the traditionalists and they were not willing to support Sirius. It was a difficult time for Sirius, but he finally managed to overcome the difficulties. Lord Aiden Avery and Lord Theodore Nott Sr realised once again why the Blacks were not to be messed with. Discreet information given to the press had the two families backtracking, not wanting their family secrets aired to tens of thousands of people in the country. Yaxley's nomination was withdrawn, leaving Sirius to take his place again as the leader of the dark faction.
So by the last week of December, Sirius Black had been voted in by the public by a landslide, easily outstripping Amos Diggory. In the Wizengamot, Sirius was favoured by different people for different reasons.
The traditionalists might be somewhat under control, but they wanted a pureblood on the Minister's seat and Sirius was qualified. He was from one of the oldest pureblood families in Europe, so it certainly helped. He was also married to another powerful pureblood witch. Even though Amelia Black was hated and feared at the same time, her power in the Ministry of Magic was undeniable. The icing on the cake was that Sirius Black hated Albus Dumbledore. An enemy's enemy was your friend, and this certainly applied to the traditionalists.
The centrists would go with the popular vote and they usually sided with the one who had the best chance to win. It did help matters that Sirius' policies were centric, increasing their potential power block. The liberals, while under the control of Albus Dumbledore, were drawn to the fact that Sirius was Harry Potter's godfather. The man was also Regent Gryffindor and that was certainly very attractive. This had the light faction divided, which was exactly what Sirius wanted. Amos Diggory really did not stand a chance.
"The sheets of parchment in front of you should provide the names of the final candidates," said Chief Warlock Dumbledore. "You may enter your votes."
As soon as the members chose their candidate with a tap of their wands, the enchanted sheets of parchment magically vanished. Five minutes later, they were all done and the tally had been reached.
Dumbledore forced a smile on his face. "The election process is now complete. By an overwhelming majority by both the public as well as the Wizengamot, the new Minister of Magic of Magical Britain and Ireland is Lord Sirius Black!"
Thunderous applause greeted him as Sirius ascended to his seat to the left of the Chief Warlock. He smiled widely at them and he saw a young boy with distinguishing green eyes in the seats meant for the public wink at him.
Minister Black winked back at his godson. Their mission was a success.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
A teenage boy was sitting on a swirl chair behind an ornate desk in his study, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows. A bejewelled diadem was sitting on top of his head as he occasionally closed and opened his eyes.
The election for the Minister of Magic had gone very well. Sure, there had been bumps along the way and they had wondered if they could succeed, but it had worked. Owning the Magical Daily had certainly helped. Harry's anger at Albus Dumbledore increased when he remembered everything the old man had done to prevent Sirius from becoming Minister. Dumbledore really was an outstanding politician but the problem was that he expected everyone to behave the same way. In the political sphere, two people may be opponents, stabbing each other in the back one day, but they may become the greatest allies a month later. Dumbledore obviously thought Harry would do the same.
Wrong. Harry would never forget. He couldn't describe the number of problems Dumbledore had caused Sirius over the past two months. The aged mage was also responsible for Sirius' incarceration, him being abandoned at the Dursleys and Harry was pretty sure there was something shady about his parents' going under the Fidelius Charm as well. Even the prophecy brought about warning bells. He made a note to hear the entire contents of the prophecy sometime. He had wanted to go during the summer, but with everything that had happened, he had been too busy.
What were those escaped Death Eaters after? Were they trying to bring Voldemort back? How did they know that he was alive in the first place? Nobody knew about Voldemort's Horcruxes, right? That's what the Dark Lord thought anyway. He didn't know that Harry now had a lot of information about that.
The Diadem of Ravenclaw was really the best thing that had ever happened to Harry. His training and knowledge in all fields in magic were improving by leaps and bounds. Tom Riddle in his youth had taken to studying all forms of magic. Voldemort had later improved upon that by travelling around the world and learning magic from different people. While it was true that Harry was still learning the N.E.W.T. material from the memories, he spent more time skimming through them to get information on Horcruxes.
The first Horcrux, the diary, given to Lucius Malfoy had been destroyed. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff given to Bellatrix, which was safely kept in the Lestrange family vault at Gringotts, had been retrieved and the soul piece destroyed. The Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, which had been kept in the Room of Requirement, had been retrieved and the soul piece destroyed. That only left the Gaunt ring and Salazar Slytherin's locket, both of which were extremely well protected. He knew that he should be doing this with Sirius, but he didn't want to put his godfather in needless danger. Sirius would also not approve of Harry's methods, he knew that. Besides, Sirius was still in a high of winning the election and was enjoying a quiet evening with his family. Dylan was at Greengrass Manor, so Harry had time.
Placing the Diadem back securely in a small vault, Harry walked out of the study and made his way to the dungeons of Potter Castle. The sun had nearly set by now and the dungeons looked menacing under the dim lighting charms. Not breaking stride, Harry simply disabled the wards on the doors with a few flicks of his wand. Several minutes later, the door to the room which housed some of the prison cells opened.
"Hello, family," said Harry with a dark smirk on his face. "Long time no see."
In front of him behind bars were the weak, frail forms of Vernon, Petunia and Marge Dursley.
Once Harry had realised back in his first year that Dumbledore had an unusual interest in the Dursleys, doing his best to force Harry back to their house, he had taken a bold step. Dumbledore had still been his guardian then, and Harry really did not want to take any chances. How could the old man force him to return to Privet Drive if the Dursleys no longer lived there?
House-Elves were really useful creatures. They were extremely loyal to their masters and lived for much longer than witches and wizards. Their loyalty, once earned by a witch or wizard, was something which was extremely valuable. The Potters and the Blacks had known this. Once upon a time, they had used this to their advantage. The Blacks, being the ever politicians, used to send their house-elves to spy on people. They had an outstanding idea on how to do that. They opened a shop, not in Diagon Alley, but in one of the other smaller shopping districts in Magical Britain and similar ones all over Magical Europe. The company would let families hire house-elves to do their job and pay money to the company for their services. Since not all families had elves, it worked amazingly well. No one realised that the Blacks owned the company. It had been skillfully hidden by a mountain of paperwork and aliases. By the sixteenth century, the Blacks' information gathering skills were unparalleled by anyone in Europe. Using intimidation and blackmail, they had been the power behind the throne in the country. That was the reason generations of Blacks considered themselves close to royalty.
The Potters, on the other hand, did not care about politics. Someone from the family would always be present at the Wizengamot, as it was their duty, but it was not something they focussed on until Lord Charlus Potter, Harry's grandfather, took his seat. Unlike the Blacks, who used the house-elves for information, the Potters used them to raid the homes of their enemies. The family was notorious for their obsession with wards and they had used that to their best advantage.
The Potters had always been wealthy, but they wouldn't have become one of the richest families in the world if they hadn't plundered the fortunes of several families all over Europe and beyond. Using a combination of runes and stealth spells, they gave their house-elves power to help them in their raids. Rich, snobby purebloods who had opposed the Potters and their business deals soon found their large fortunes gone, leaving them destitute, and the best part of it all was that no one ever connected it to the Potters.
In fact, the Potters had even taken advantage of the Muggle English civil war, stealing plenty of royal gold and treasures in the process, and the same was done again during the Muggle French Revolution. Between the huge amounts of money they got through robbing their enemies, combined with their smart business tactics and magical innovations, they controlled a lot of international trade around the world.
That was, of course, until they were brought down to their knees after the Potter Massacre. The family business of robbing enemies had been tucked away, never to be used again. They began managing their very large fortune instead. They had taken a massive beating after the massacre and had never recovered from that. The house-elves went back to serving the family, not being asked to help in raids anymore.
Karma. It all came down to Karma. All those centuries later, the Black and Potter families took one hit after another, nearly being driven extinct in the process, losing a good chunk of their power with it – until Harry Potter and Sirius Black took their positions as the heads of their respective families.
Using the house-elves again, this time pooling their resources, they had ensured that their elves could not be tracked as they sent them to spy on people. While the other families who had house-elves of their own were quite difficult to spy on, not to mention many had developed anti-elf wards to protect themselves from wizards who could use Elvin Apparition to enter their homes, that was not to say that it was useless. The runes and enchantments developed by the Potters to hide the elf's magical signature may be quite old, but it was still ingenious. That was how Sirius had gotten enough information to blackmail his opponents in addition to the information his family had collected over the centuries.
And that was also how Harry had kidnapped the Dursleys. There was no way he was not going to exact revenge for all that they had put him through when he had been under their care. He wanted them to suffer as he had suffered.
"How has it been to live here for the last two years?" smirked Harry.
"YOU!" bellowed Vernon. "You're the one keeping us here? Let us out, boy, now!"
Harry's eyes darkened and his wand sailed to his hand. With a flick, the door of the cell opened and he stepped inside. Vernon took the chance to pounce on Harry but was thrown against the wall violently without Harry even having to defend himself.
"Oh, you stupid fool," Harry snorted uncharacteristically, shaking his head. "Did you think the collar you were made to wear was for beautification? Those are charmed to ensure that you cannot attack me. But even if you do, I'm more than capable of taking care of myself." He twirled his wand in his fingers, showing it to Petunia who paled. "Recognise this, Aunt Petunia?" he sneered. "It's called a wand."
"Y-You have become o-one of them," she whispered, looking horrified. "You're a freak!"
Harry's face contorted in rage. There was no word he hated more than the word 'freak.' It brought back bad memories of him being tortured by them and also Dylan suffering for as long as he had. Gritting his teeth, Harry slashed his wand in the air and Petunia screamed an unholy scream full of pain as the bones in her legs exploded.
"Don't use that word in front of me," said Harry dangerously. "Be glad that I've been kind enough to provide you with food and shelter. Does that sentence remind you of something, Aunt Petunia? What about you, Uncle Vernon? You claimed that you had provided a roof over my head and food from your table purely because of the goodness of your hearts. It didn't matter to you that you gave me a tiny boot cupboard under the stairs for me to sleep in or that you gave me so little food that any other child would have died of starvation. Well then, I'm returning the favour. You should be glad that I've put a roof over your head by bringing you to my dungeon and also that I provide you with food, however little it may be."
"Where's Dudley?" asked Vernon, shakily.
"He's in a much better place," smirked Harry.
"What have you done, you disgusting boy?" screeched Marge. Harry turned to face her, his luminescent green eyes flashing with murderous intent. Apparently, being in an isolated cell for two years had still not broken them. Maybe more punishment was in order.
"You know, I've always wanted to do this to you, Marge," said Harry quietly. He swiftly kicked her in the face, breaking her nose. With one more kick, she was holding her stomach in pain.
"That was for letting your worthless dogs nearly maul me to death while you laughed at my helplessness … and this …"
Harry pointed his wand at her.
"Crucio!"
Marge screamed in a manner she had never screamed before. Vernon and Petunia were watching, horrified, as Marge twisted and turned like she was on fire and being stabbed at the same time. After ten seconds, Harry released the curse, looking satisfied.
"This was for calling my mother a whore and my father a good for nothing drunk," said Harry darkly. "And you, Aunt Petunia ... I wonder what your plans were for me. You were rather insistent on denying me any knowledge of magic. Let's see what is going on in that head of yours."
"Legilimens!"
Five minutes of shuffling through her memories left him disgusted. She had never planned on telling him about his heritage. She wanted to keep him so downtrodden that Harry would never be able to get up. She would have kicked him out of the house after high school, ensuring that Harry survived on the streets with no proper education or job, hoping that he would die in misery. She had wanted to do that because she hated the fact that Lily had been magical while it had been denied to her. The fact that Harry was an innocent soul in her feud with her sister did not matter to her at all. The baby dumped on her doorstep was a freak and he must be made 'normal.' That was all that mattered to her.
"No," croaked Petunia when she saw the expression on Harry's face; it was terrifying.
"Crucio!"
Harry calmed down a bit as he saw Petunia whimpering on the floor after having suffered the Cruciatus Curse. "I'm not going to do anything more to you," he said softly. "Know that your actions against me were what caused this predicament in the first place. You received money for my care and yet you treated me like a slave. Know that you are the reason Dudley is dead. If you had treated me better, your son would still be alive. It's your fault, Petunia. It's all your fault. Remember that."
He cast a Confundus Charm on her to keep making her remember that her precious son was dead. Truthfully, Dudley was very much alive. The boy had tormented Harry when they were young, but he was just a child. Harry had simply wiped the boy's memories to make him think his parents had been killed by using a simple memory charm and a confundus charm. He had then enrolled Dudley into a military school funded by the Muggle government. Let the fat lump be of some use to society.
"Vernon, come with me," ordered Harry.
The man still did not give up. Harry had to give him credit for that. "Oh no, boy! You will let us go and I'm not going to follow your orders."
Harry rolled his eyes. Vernon would get what's coming to him soon enough. Pointing his wand at the man, making Vernon flinch in terror, Harry simply chanted, "Imperio!"
The two of them left the dungeons quietly, not listening to Petunia's cries or Marge's moans of pain. Harry and Vernon walked to the edge of the property from where Harry took his uncle's arm and Disapparated.
When Harry opened his eyes, he could immediately smell the sea water. His informal robe slung over his shoulders was fluttering about him due to the wind and Vernon had a blank expression on his face. Harry frowned. The cave was warded against people approaching through any magical means, so they had to swim. He looked at Vernon.
"You are to swim to that cliff over there," said Harry commandingly. "Don't drown."
With that, Harry dived into the sea, trying not to think how deep the water was. Doing his best to avoid the waves, he slowly emerged at the entrance of the cave, the warming and drying charms on his clothes working overtime.
Harry began running his fingers over the cave wall, looking for the place. After about a minute, he found it. Pressing his hand over a rock, a pedestal appeared. Making Vernon come forward, he poured a few drops of his uncle's blood on the pedestal. It glowed and the entrance materialised.
"Don't touch the water," he ordered as they walked inside. It was dark and eerie and Harry knew exactly what was inside the lake. Carefully waving his hand over thin air, he remembered what Voldemort had done to raise the boat. He tapped his wand on his other hand, and the thick chains appeared, bringing the boat along with it.
"Sit down and ensure you don't touch the water," said Harry, taking control of Vernon's actions through the curse. Once they were on the small island where the pedestal which contained the Horcrux was located, Harry conjured a small crystal glass and made Vernon drink the potion. Voldemort was a genius. The potion he had kept here would recreate the worst fears of a person and ensure that they are mentally paralysed after drinking a few gulps of the potion. If they did manage to finish it, they would turn to the lake to drink water because of the thirst caused by the potion. That's when the Inferi would rise out of the lake, dragging the person with them under. There was no chance for a single person to ever escape with the Horcrux.
Harry removed the locket from the basin, dropped a fake one in its place and frowned when the locket did not look like the one in his memories.
It was a fake. This wasn't the Horcrux.
He closed his eyes in frustration and fear when he realised that someone else had stolen the real locket. Where the hell could the Horcrux be? It could be anywhere! Just as he turned, Harry screamed in fear when he came face to face with an Inferi. The potion had lifted the Imperius curse he had placed on Vernon. The Muggle had crawled to the lake to drink water, raising the Inferi. Harry had been distracted to see it. Flicking his wand to his hand, he rotated it in a wide arc above his head as fire erupted from the tip. A ring of fire surrounded the hundreds of Inferi, making them go back underwater. Harry's heart was thumping a mile a minute as he realised that Vernon had already been taken underwater. Stepping into the small boat, Harry crossed the lake and made his way out. With a silent pop, his Disapparated.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Dylan Lestrange was in a good mood. He had just come back from Greengrass Manor where he had spent the day with Astoria and some of their friends from school. He never thought he would see the day when he actually had friends! Sure, it had been bad in the first month at Hogwarts, but with Harry's help, people began warming up to him. He was not liked by everyone, but that hardly mattered. He had a few friends and he was content with that. He also had Astoria, his best friend. What more could he ask for?
Stepping out of the fireplace at Potter Castle, he briskly made his way to Harry's study. The two of them alternated between staying here at the castle or at Black Manor.
"Harry?" Dylan frowned when he entered the large study. The boy in question was sitting in an armchair in front of the roaring fireplace. His frown deepened when he saw that Harry looked grim.
"Harry, are you okay?" he asked again, taking a seat on the arm of the chair. "What's wrong?"
Harry looked up and saw the concerned face of the boy he had come to regard as his own brother. He simply stared at Dylan. Both Harry and Dylan had grown up in similar environments. Both of them had been physically and psychologically abused by Muggles. Harry, at least, had the opportunity to escape at the age of seven, but not Dylan. Harry always had the comfort to know that his parents had cared for him when they were alive. Dylan's parents had not been married; his mother had been raped by his father who was a notorious and sadistic Death Eater. Their childhood was quite similar, and yet they turned out so different. Why?
"How do you do it, Dylan?"
"Do what?"
"Stay innocent even after everything that has been done to you," said Harry quietly as he drowned a phial containing a Calming Draught.
"Stay innocent? Harry, what are you talking about?"
"You were called a freak your whole life. So was I. The matron in the orphanage tried to do an exorcism on you. I've never told this to anyone except Daphne, but the Dursleys did that to me when I was five. I was never more scared in my life than I was that day. I was beaten up for accidental magic; so were you. I was told that my father was a useless drunken layabout and that my mother was a whore. Even now, many people at Hogwarts call you a bastard. You were told that your father was a Death Eater while I was told that my parents were murdered by one of the most dangerous Dark Lords in recent years. How, Dylan? You still remain pure at heart. You don't seek revenge against those who hurt you. Even after what others called you at school, you still go out of your way to help them if they're in trouble. Your innocence and sunny personality confuse me. We share a similar past, yet I turned out much darker in the process. How?"
Dylan was speechless. This was the last thing he expected. He stayed silent for a minute before responding.
"I don't think I care much for revenge," he admitted softly. "When I was growing up, I tried to fight back, but whenever I did, it only got worse. I used to get angry at them for the way they treated me, but I realised later that there was no point. I was alone with no one to help me. I had to rely on myself for everything. If I had to survive, I had to avoid them. I did not have the power to take them head-on, so I kept to myself. I don't understand why you call me pure at heart. I'm nothing like that."
Harry chuckled slightly, shaking his head in amusement. Dylan really had no idea how unique he was. Would Harry have turned out like that in another life? Where his eyes displayed innocence and warmth instead of the cold emerald orbs they always were? Harry couldn't explain it, but torturing the Dursleys and killing Vernon today struck a chord.
"If you were given a choice, would you be willing to kill the people who treated you that way? Make them pay?"
Dylan was startled by that question. He swallowed as he answered, "I won't lie and say that they don't deserve punishment, but I wasn't the only one those older boys and people at the orphanage tormented. But would I intentionally torture or kill them? No. I don't think I could do it."
After a pause, he asked hesitantly, "Can you?"
Harry looked at the boy directly in the eye and said, "Yes. I've already done it."
Dylan's eyes widened and he involuntarily moved back as though burned. "Killed?" he whispered, but Harry didn't answer.
Technically he had killed. He may not have used his wand to strike the final blow, but he was the reason Professor Quirrell and Vernon Dursley were dead. He had used the Cruciatus Curse on Marge Dursley and Aunt Petunia. He had the capacity to perform the Killing Curse, which not many could do. The curse required powerful magic behind it. The amount of hatred which Harry needed to feel to use the Cruciatus and Killing Curses were frightening. Sirius had spoken to him about this, but ... there were some things he could never tell Sirius. His godfather wouldn't understand. Neither would Daphne, for that matter, because they had never experienced it.
"Would you think any less of me if I said yes?"
Dylan gazed out of the window, looking at the twinkling stars above. "Why did you do it?" he asked after a pause. "Was it only for revenge?"
"No, not really," replied Harry honestly. "The first time I killed someone was when I was eleven, in my first year at Hogwarts. There was a teacher by the name of Professor Quirrell who taught Defence. He was being possessed by Voldemort or was Voldemort himself, I think; I'm not sure. He had nearly caused the death of Hermione Granger by letting a troll inside the school once. Many other students could have died that day too. To ensure that he didn't kill anyone – or me, for that matter – I led the man to his death. I stunned him and let the Cerberus at school do the rest."
Dylan remained silent.
"This evening, I had something important to do with regard to Voldemort's continued survival," he continued. "I needed someone to drink a very painful potion that makes the drinker relive his worst memories. No one knows this, but I kidnapped my Muggle relatives some time back and kept them locked up in the dungeons. I made my uncle drink the potion, but he unexpectedly died today."
"But you didn't actually kill both," said Dylan hesitantly, trying to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. "The first one, you were trying to stop Voldemort. The second one was an accident, wasn't it? You didn't kill him either. So, why are you feeling guilty?"
"Oh, I'm not," said Harry flatly. "I don't feel guilty for killing both those men and I never will. They deserved everything they had coming to them. But I'm just curious about how you turned out to be such a sweet kid. You really are something special, Dylan. I'm glad I met you. You're like a mirror to me. I won't change who I am, Merlin knows I am happy the way I turned out, but sometime, somewhere, I could have been like you. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing."
"You certainly think a lot, don't you?"
Harry exhaled. "If you're afraid of me after learning this –"
"Stop," said Dylan firmly. "That will never happen. You – you're my brother, Harry. Granted, we might be cousins ten generations removed and not actual siblings, but that doesn't matter to me. You – you're my hero! You always help me when I need you. You take care of me and, well, yes, what you did was wrong, but you took me in, accepted me, an orphaned son of a known Death Eater, as your brother. You gave me a home and spent time with me, taught me advanced magic; how can that make you a bad person? I-I don't know what else to say ..."
Harry stood up and pulled the younger boy into a tight hug. "Thanks, Dylan," he whispered. "You are and always will be my little brother. Just don't ever change from the sweet boy that you are. I love you."
Dylan choked as he gripped him tighter; no one had ever uttered those words to him before and it was a novel experience for him, not to mention emotional. "Love you too, Harry."
Harry simply placed a kiss on top of the boy's head. A minute later, they headed towards their respective rooms for the night.
Sitting on floor near the fireplace, the young Potter scion closed his eyes to centre himself. It had been an emotional day for him and he needed to get himself under control. He couldn't have such an episode again.