𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 | 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

Familial Bonds and Samhain

𝐚𝐭𝐥: Old Wounds Open and Bleed

"I wouldn't trust Dumbledore or anyone, not even me. Nothing is ever as it seems." ━ Versailles Black

*warning for cringe overload, dramatic ass Versailles who is lowkey an edge lord, retelling of James/Lily death.*

A few days had passed, and Regulus seemed to be taking an interest in the Slytherin Quidditch team. There was an opening, and he'd been debating whether or not to try out for a spot. Theta, of course, was thrilled at the prospect, already chattering about raising the standard of green-and-silver cheer for his "little star."

Versailles had finally taken a much-needed break from all the school drama, the mind-numbing assignments, and—most importantly—from everyone. As much as she loved Regulus and Thanatos, that love could sometimes feel overwhelming. Every now and then, she needed to step back from being the glue holding them together.

Deep down, Versailles knew they'd be fine without her—they could look after each other but her compulsion to be there, to guide them through everything, was exhausting. She wasn't sure if the whole "soulmate" thing had something to do with it. The connection, especially with Theta, felt so intense and love-driven that it left her hesitant, even more so than the now hidden age gap.

But she knew it wasn't just that. In her past life, she'd felt a deep sympathy for Regulus Black—a boy from an abusive household, thrust into a toxic environment, all because of something as trivial as house loyalties. Then, to admire someone, only to discover they were deceitful and bent on preserving magic through horrifying means, was a cruel twist. And to die as an unsung hero, seen as a monster even by his own brother? While she couldn't fully relate to his story she understood the loneliness. It saddened her, especially since she had once been on the receiving end of Sirius Black's cruelness.

And then there was Tom Riddle. She once joked about villains being more compelling than heroes, but learning how Dumbledore had manipulated him made it harder to dismiss those feelings.

Her musings were interrupted by the crunch of leaves underfoot. She turned toward the sound, her thoughts drifting back to the present. The Black Lake stretched out before her, dark and enigmatic, hiding its secrets beneath an alluring surface waiting for someone foolish enough to reach in and play.

"So, you finally came," Versailles said softly, keeping my eyes on the lake. Its mysterious depths mirrored the silent turmoil within her. Harry stood there for a moment before sitting beside me, leaving a respectful distance between us. She appreciated that—unwanted touch was never my thing.

"Yes," he said with a huff. "Dumbledore didn't say much about my family. You're the only one who knows anything and is willing to tell me."

She turned to study him. Thin, with a fresh bruise barely hidden by his cloak, his glasses perched crookedly on his nose. His green eyes, so much like Lily's, sparkled with innocence and curiosity. Seeing him like this—it hurt. Versaillies wondered if it had been this painful for Snape, looking at Harry and only seeing Lily. Did it make his heart ache the way mine did?

"What do you want to know?" She asked, shifting her gaze back to the lake.

"How did you know my parents?" His voice was eager, almost desperate. "All I know is that they died in a car crash. That's what my uncle tells me, but Hagrid said they were like me? And that the Dark Lord killed them."

She let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Your parents, James and Lily, were exceptional wizards in their time. My father was best friends with your dad and mum. I stayed over often—I even knew you when you were born. We were only a few months apart. I was there the night it all happened," she said quietly, the memory of Lily's lifeless eyes flashing in her mind.

He was silent for a moment before asking, his voice barely a whisper, "What happened?"

She hesitated, taking in his determined expression. He needed answers, and it wasn't her place to withhold the truth.

"The Dark Lord—Voldemort—came to their house to kill you. My father tried to protect you, but their old friend betrayed them all. He was framed for the crime and sent to Azkaban without a trial."

"Wait," Harry interrupted, "why didn't he take you? Aren't you his daughter?"

She laughed bitterly. The sound was cold, dead—like the part of her heart that still remembered those days. Harry flinched, but she explained, "My father hated me because my mother died giving birth to me. I was his biggest regret, while you... you were his greatest love. Lily and James adored you—they didn't want you to go to the Dursleys, but Dumbledore decided otherwise. As for me, I ran away and everyone thought I was dead for a while."

Harry frowned. "How do you know so much about me? That I live with the Dursleys?"

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Who do you think sent you those presents every year?"

His eyes widened. "That was you? Thank you!" Then, with a quieter, sadder tone, he added, "But why didn't you take me away?"

She sighed, brushing a stray lock of unruly hair from his face—so much like his father's. "Because I couldn't. Dumbledore wouldn't have let me. I had to stay hidden to protect myself—and you. But I've always kept an eye on you."

"Why doesn't Dumbledore want us together?" he asked hesitantly.

She shrugged and answered, "I don't know for sure, but I suspect it's to keep us both isolated. It makes us easier to control."

"Hermione said you have a photographic memory, so you remember everything. How did they die?" Harry asked, his voice cracking with hurt, tears welling in his green eyes.

She stared at him for a moment, shook her head, and replied, "You're not ready for that tale just yet."

"Please! I need to know!" he begged desperately, his small hand clutching the sleeve of her robe. She hesitated but eventually nodded. It wasn't her place to hide the truth from him—he'd find out sooner or later anyway.

"It was on Hallow's Eve when it happened," she began, her voice quieter now. "My father had dropped me off a few hours beforehand. The house was under a ward, hidden from sight, and only a handful of people knew its location. They were all bound by a magical oath but someone betrayed your parents and told Voldemort where you were. He arrived, blasting the door off its hinges."

"Your mother rushed us upstairs to your nursery and barricaded the door. I hid while she stood between you and Voldemort. Your father, James, tried to fight him but was killed—dead before he even hit the ground. Then Voldemort came for your mother. He pleaded with her to step aside, but she wouldn't. She loved you far too much."

"She died protecting you. And when Voldemort turned his wand on you, the curse rebounded. It destroyed him instead. Your mother's love shielded you that night, Harry—it saved you and ended him. Sirius, Hagrid, and Dumbledore came for you after hearing what happened...That night, your parents died. My father was accused of the crime and sent to Azkaban. We were separated. Dumbledore sent you to the Dursleys. He wanted to put me in an orphanage, even though I had family alive. So, I fled, making sure everyone thought I was dead."

Harry gasped, tears streaming down his face. She sighed and, despite her better judgment, reached out and awkwardly patted his head. The gesture reminded her of her sister, and she grimaced at the memory she would never go back to.

"I wouldn't trust Dumbledore or anyone else," she told him quietly, "Nothing is ever as it seems."

"Not even you?" he asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.

She nodded solemnly. "Especially not me. We might've been 'friends' as babies. We might share blood. I might have loved your mother as if she were my own—but that doesn't mean I wouldn't betray you if the situation called for it."

Versailles stood up, ready to leave, the conversation draining her. All she wanted now was a cup of hot tea and to collapse into her beloved's arms.

"Wait! We're blood-related? How?" Harry jumped up, his astonishment evident.

She sighed. "Our fathers performed a blood adoption ritual. You were supposed to have undergone one with my father, but... Voldemort happened. You were too young, but my father didn't care about my age when he performed it with me. And besides, a Black married into the Potter line ages ago, so take that as you will."

"Where do you live? If not with my aunt and uncle?" he asked desperately, his desire to escape them clear.

"I live in the Black Mansion," she said slowly, already regretting what she was about to say next. "If you want... you could come for the holidays."

Merlin's balls, what was I doing? Those damn hurt puppy-dog eyes.

Harry's face lit up, and before she could react, he lunged at her, wrapping her in a tight hug with his scrawny arms. Versailles sighed in exasperation, not daring to hug him back.

"Yes! I'd love to!" he exclaimed, clearly forgetting her earlier warning about trusting her.

Regulus had a hard time adjusting to Hogwarts. Over a decade had passed, and while the school hadn't changed much physically, everything else felt so different. The teachers were mostly new, except for a few familiar faces like Dumbledore and McGonagall. Memories of late-night study sessions and cozy chats in the warmth of the Slytherin common room remained, but they were now tainted by the presence of unfamiliar students he didn't know.

Hogwarts had once felt like home to him, a sanctuary where he could escape the ever-watchful eyes of Walburga Black, who constantly scrutinized him to ensure he didn't turn out like his brother. And yet, reconciling with his brother's absence was one of the hardest things for Regulus. Sirius wasn't here. The Marauders weren't around to play their elaborate pranks, nor was there the telltale sound of thundering footsteps, bellowing laughter, and McGonagall's sharp voice chasing after them.

Regulus had his problems with Sirius, but despite everything, he loved him. It hurt knowing Sirius was rotting in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was also different. The fear and paranoia that once lingered during Voldemort's rise and the looming threat of war were gone, replaced by a sense of freedom. There was a carefreeness unique to children discovering who they wanted to become, a stark contrast to the suffocating tension Regulus remembered.

Adjusting to this new Hogwarts was both easy and hard. Having his loved ones, Versailles and Thanatos, by his side helped, as did the addition of new friends. But it was difficult at times, especially talking to Draco Malfoy. The boy's sharp features and arrogant tilt of his chin were a constant reminder of Lucius. Seeing Severus Snape as a professor was another adjustment. It was strange, but also a point of pride for him. Severus had always been brilliant at potions, tirelessly reading books and articles to deepen his knowledge. Now, as a teacher, he was undoubtedly great—when he wasn't hurling insults, at least.

Still, it was sad to see how bitter Severus had become. Regulus knew what had shaped him: unrequited love, loss, and grief. Despite everything, Severus had loved Lily Evans deeply, even after she chose James Potter, even after the infamous "Mudblood" incident. Losing her had scarred him in ways no one could fully understand.

Each day at Hogwarts became a little easier for Regulus, but he often found himself yearning for his old friends and his brother. At the oddest moments, the weight of their absence hit him. Sometimes, while sitting at the dining table, he would catch himself turning to his right, ready to share a joke or thought with Barty—only to remember Barty wasn't there. Thanatos now sat in Barty's place.

It was a strange mix of sadness and annoyance, and Regulus couldn't shake it. Now, two months into his first year back at Hogwarts, he was excelling in his studies. Much of the curriculum hadn't changed, and he was quickly making connections with others in Slytherin and even a few outside his house. Among the students and teachers, he had gained a reputation for being quiet, polite, and intelligent.

The teachers, however, kept their distance. They couldn't help but notice how much he resembled the Regulus of the past—not just in appearance, but in demeanor.

For Samhain, the day began simply. A cold breeze swept through the castle as Regulus got ready, greeting his dorm mates before heading to the dining hall for breakfast. He barely spared a glance at the decorations littering the castle: the garish orange pumpkins and other Halloween-themed embellishments. Regulus had long grown accustomed to Dumbledore's attempts to ease Muggle-born students into wizarding culture, but it still irked him. The elaborate traditions of old—rituals, dances, honoring ancestors—had been cast aside in favor of hollow gestures. He felt sure most Muggle-borns would have appreciated learning about the true practices of Samhain rather than seeing them reduced to nothing more than decorations and novelty.

As he entered the hall, his gaze settled on Versailles. She sat at the table with her usual stoic posture, absently stirring her eggs around and nibbling on small bites of sausage. He immediately understood what was on her mind.

The previous year, the Black Mansion had observed a proper Samhain during Regulus's time there. They had risen before dawn to watch the sunrise in silence, eaten a quiet breakfast, and spent the day cooking together. Kreacher had flitted about nervously, fussing with the decorations while Sirius's old Muggle vinyl records played hauntingly melancholic tunes in the background. There had been moments of lightness—shared jokes and grounding touches—but the atmosphere remained heavy.

It wasn't until Thanatos had spoken to him that Regulus truly understood why the day weighed so heavily on Versailles. For her, Samhain was a solemn affair not only because of its spiritual significance but because it marked the anniversary of James and Lily's deaths. She had confided in him later, revealing that they weren't just people she had loved—they had been her parents. She had never truly grieved their loss. Regulus could see how it still haunted her, and he resolved to help her find some measure of peace. With Harry now in the picture, perhaps he could help as well.

"Mon cher," Regulus whispered, leaning over her shoulder and gently rubbing it. "How about tonight, we take a stroll and, with Thanatos's help, have a chat?"

Versailles placed her hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. She nodded, offering a sad smile in response.

"Perhaps you should bring Harry," Regulus suggested as he took the seat beside her.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "The last time I spoke to him, I invited him to stay for the holidays."

Regulus stiffened slightly, caught off guard. He hadn't realized she had already extended such an invitation, though he wasn't entirely surprised. Versailles had a soft spot for those in need—strays, as he teasingly called them.

"I was telling him about James and Lily, and it just slipped out," she explained, misreading his reaction. "The boy is so alone, and we have plenty of room. Lily would kill me if she knew I left him to rot with the Dursleys—"

"Cher," Regulus interrupted gently, cutting her off. "It's fine. You never have to explain yourself to me. The boy needs a family, and the Dursleys are a despicable bunch. I don't blame you. Besides, you are the Head of House Black."

Versailles gave him a small, relieved smile, though the weight of her responsibilities lingered. She had become the head of the family after Sirius was imprisoned in Azkaban. Regulus knew she was working quietly behind the scenes to clear Sirius's name, though the task was monumental.

For his part, Regulus still held the legal status of a Black and was magically recognized as the son of Walburga and Orion. Yet he had no desire to step into the role of family head, even temporarily. That had always been Sirius's burden to bear, and Regulus had resigned himself to being the spare. Taking up the title now would only invite scrutiny and potentially risk Versailles's efforts to avoid imprisonment—especially with her dabbling in necromancy, a secretive and heavily outlawed magic. Reviving people was strictly prohibited by the Wizengamot, deemed unethical and dangerous.

Versailles sighed, her voice tinged with hesitation. "Oh, okay then..."

Regulus could sense her reluctance, but she was pragmatic. If drama was coming her way, she might as well jump into it headfirst. It wasn't as though she had much choice in the matter.

The day went on uncaring if it was a hard day for a few particular students, they had charms lessons learning the Levitation spell, Wingardium Leviosa with Gryffindor, then a surprisingly easy double potions, again with Gryffindor, transfiguration, defence against the dark arts and history of magic. Versailles had skipped lunch and got Kreacher to bring her food while she studied in a calm corner in the library hidden with a notice me not spell. She did not want to deal with anyone that day, not even Regulus or Thanatos - she felt drained from the day before and being All Hallow's Eve she had usually spent the day in sombre silence as a sort of remembrance for Lily, James, her mother and the little girl she used to be.

She wanted to skip dinner but her stomach ached and she needed to see friendly faces and the fact there would be a troll-shaped disaster around the corner. With it being Halloween, the Great Hall was changed and she was left in minor awe as floating Jack O'Lanterns replaced the usual candles, other decorations littered the walls.

She sat next to Theta who started fawning over her, making her a plate while she laid her head on his shoulder. Regulus watched her from the other side of the table in concern and he wasn't the only one worried for her.

"She's been like this all day. Is she okay?" Draco asked Regulus, who he was sitting besides. His curly haired cousin nodded and whispered in response, "it's just a hard day for her."

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table and noticed an empty spot nearby and sat down next to Neville Longbottom, a familiar face. "Where's Hermione?" he asked, noticing she wasn't amongst them and his eyes drifted to the Slytherin table where he watched his new family member pick at her food and her friend whispering to her.

Harry looked back at Neville when he answered hesitantly, "Parvati Patil said she's been in the girls' bathroom all afternoon, crying."

Harry frowned and glanced at Ron, who shrugged indifferently. Before they could say more, Professor Quirrell burst into the hall, pale and panicked.

"TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON! T-TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!" he stammered before adding faintly, "Thought you ought to know." Then he collapsed onto the floor. For a moment, the hall was silent, but chaos erupted as students screamed and fled in all directions.

"Why they let him as a teacher is beyond me," Versailles muttered in disdain watching the man shriek about the Troll he let loose and promptly fainted at a strange angle.

"Silence!" bellowed Dumbledore, his voice echoing above the noise. The students froze, and he continued calmly, "There is no need to panic. Prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. Teachers, follow me to the dungeons."

"He does realize the Slytherins live in the dungeons, right?" Theta asked baffled and Versailes looked around at the shaking green-robed children around her and walked towards the annoyed and slightly fearful Prefects.

"Shall we follow another house since the Troll was reported to be in the Dungeons?" She asked the female Prefect who was arguing with the other prefect. The couple turned to her and nodded and yelled out to the Slytherins, "We will follow the Ravenclaws and wait for this mess to be sorted!"

The fear slowly waned as they followed the prefects after the crowd of blue and Regulus huffed, "I truly wonder how Dumbeldore has stayed in power for so long."

"He's a man of great reputation," Draco responded annoyed and Versailles replied, "He did allegedly take down Grindelwald." Her thoughts of her adopted father who was currently making himself comfortable in her new mansion vanished when Theta nudged her. "Harry has gone after the Granger girl."

Versailles cursed her cousin and the wretched day and rushed to the bathrooms, leaving Draco and Regulus to yell after her, wondering where she was running off too. She reached the bathrooms in record time and bursted in only to witness Harry clinging onto the Troll's shoulders and his wand up his nose.

"What in merlin's name!" She gauffed at the scene before her, seeing Herminone hiding under a sink and Ron shaking at the scene in terror.

The troll groaned in discomfort and blew out the wand and grabbed Harry by the leg and dangled him upside down about to swipe him with its massive wooden club. "Do something!" Harry shouted at them before letting out a scream.

Ron was watching in shock and stammered, "What?"" Versailles swiftly grabbed her wand from the wand holder on her left wrist and moved in front of the young red haired Weasley and said, "Step back, I'll deal with this."

Her wand movements were precise and graceful as she hit it with a confusion charm making it drop Harry and stumble backward and with a sharp arc of her wand a gust of strong wind flew at it, a large cut appeared across it's neck and started gushing blood and soon it dropped to it's knees clutching at it's bulging neck and died.

Hermione cautiously approached and asked, "Is it dead?"

"Well obviosuly," Ron tutted, pale face his eyes never wavering from the troll's dead body. Harry stared at her in shock at the power and calm she showed killing a creature. Versailies ignored their stares and picked up Harry's wand that was covered in troll mucus, hitting it with a light socufiy charm, cleaning it and handing it back to him. "You should be careful to not lose your wand, again."

"Uh thanks but-" Harry started only to be cut off when Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell arrived, staring in shock at the scene before them; the four students and a dead troll on the floor.

"What on earth are you four doing?" McGonagall demanded with a high pitched shrill.

"It's my fault, Professor," Hermione said quickly. "I went looking for the troll. I thought I could handle it. If Harry, Versailles and Ron hadn't found me, I'd probably be dead."

McGonagall frowned, her tone stern. "That was an incredibly foolish thing to do, Miss Granger. Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your lack of judgment."

She turned to Harry and Ron. "As for you three, not many first-years could face a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. Five points will be awarded to each of you for sheer dumb luck."

Before Harry could tell McGonagall the full story, Snape interrupted, "Miss Black!" Snape said deeply, taking a step forward to her and continued, "We will be talking about this later. Come now, while we fix this issue."

"You should process the ingredients, Professor," Versailles told him, walking away from the corpse and his eyes lingered on it and nodded in firm agreement and his hand latched onto her shoulder and stirred her away from the Gryffindor and the destroyed and bloodied bathroom.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

With the troll problem solved, points were earned for Gryffindor and Slytherin, but there was also a stern lecture from Snape. However, gaining a good page in his book for free potion ingredients left Versailles exhausted. Regulus made it his mission to distract her from the ordeal and its implications.

After slipping out of the Slytherin dorms, Versailles quickly walked to the Gryffindor floor under the Invisibility Cloak. She wasn't particularly eager to pass it on to Harry, but it was his, after all—an heirloom of the Potter family and rightfully his.

It was easy to slip into the Gryffindor common room with a mumbled password she had overheard from a first-year trying to remember it, accompanied by a stern look from the Fat Lady. However, entering the boys' dormitory was more difficult due to the gender-lock spells swirling around the stairs. Seeing the flow of magic didn't help much, but she managed.

She felt like a creep standing over Harry's bed, an apparition of Thanatos himself, as she pulled the hood off and gently shook him awake. His form shivered despite the warm blankets encasing him, and he twisted in his sleep, clearly gripped by a nightmare. He woke with a flinch, his bleary eyes squinting before widening in confusion.

"Val?" he asked, his voice scratchy and dry.

"Come along. We're going to talk to your parents," Versailles whispered, her expression stern. She wasn't entirely sure why she was bringing him along, but he deserved some closure.

Still hazy with sleep, Harry complied, putting on his glasses and sliding out from under the sheets. He slipped. his slippers on and  stood, curiosity mingled with confusion.

"How did you get in? How are we going to talk to my parents?" he asked hoarsely, allowing her to drape the cloak over him." This is a weird dream," he muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead, which glistened with a sheen of sweat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

They left the castle quietly. Harry had learned not to ask too many questions—it was clear Versailles wasn't in a talking mood. Silently, he followed her, curious to see where this midnight rendezvous would lead.

When they reached the Forbidden Forest, Versailles finally removed the cloak and Harry immediately wished she hadn't. The eerie hoots of birds echoed around them, and the swaying trees cast dancing shadows that seemed to lunge forward, startling him. Versailles, however, walked fearlessly, leading the way with purpose. Harry reminded himself that he was in Gryffindor for a reason and tried to summon courage like hers.

After a few minutes, they came to a stop. Harry's confusion only deepened when he saw Regulus, Thanatos, and even Draco Malfoy waiting for them.

Were they going to gang up on him? Fear crawled up his spine, making him shiver. The area didn't seem like the best place to hurt him unless they were going to scarfirce him to something with the marble altar behind them that seemed far out of place than in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. It was a strong delicate thing, black shinning ornate stone that looked like it belonged in a museum or a fancy church he hadn't been allowed in. 

"Harry Potter, you've finally joined us," Thanatos greeted him, his voice sending another full-body shiver through Harry. He didn't know much about Thanatos—only that he was friends with Versailles. He was mysterious, rarely spoke to anyone except the group standing there with that unworldly voice of his, and seemed cold and lifeless without them. Ron had once joked that he might be a vampire, and Harry had to admit it wasn't an entirely absurd theory. The wizarding world was strange like that.

"Uh, yeah?" Harry responded, confused, his eyes darting to Versailles, waiting for her to explain.

"With it being Samhain, the veil between our worlds is thinner than it usually is and most pureblood families keep with the rituals of old magicks of our Lady Hecate," Versailles told him, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder and as her voice was above a whisper, "Tonight, we leave offerings and commune with people of our pasts. Here you will be able to accept and hopefully move on from their passing, with your past of not knowing the real story of your parents you can finally find out who they were from themselves. It is a hard journey when losing someone, but we will be here for you."

Versailles's words crept into his mind, lulling him into a sleepy haze - her voice sounded ethereal, made for storytelling. Harry didn't know what he was getting himself into and he really hoped he wasn't joining a cult even if his cousin seemed to be the leader of it - Hermione would definitely have something to say about it and he wasn't in the mood for another lecture from his new friend.

"How does this work exactly?" He asked, he wished Hermione was here to answer all of his questions, but no Versailles had to come and basically kidnap him in the middle of the night.

"Come closer and let your instincts flow, close your eyes and mind, push everything away and be at peace with yourself," Versailles instructed as he followed her to the altar where a circle of stones, weathered by time sat neatly at the base of the altar and crept around the sides. A porcelain bowl sat atop it filled with a clear liquid that reflected the low moon hung in the sky, capturing the pale light on its reflective surface. Harry looked in it and it showed his messy hair that would never be tamed and his skewered glasses and his ghastly scar that sat on his left side of his forehead, the famous lighting bolt dragged down, cutting into his eyebrow. As his reflection shifted and the water started churning, he could see a small diamond shaped black stone floating in the middle of the water, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

He ignored it and tried to follow along Versailles instructions and cleared his mind, pushing the Troll events from his mind, he forgot all about his new home at Hogwarts and even managed to forget all about his dastardly relatives that had kept the truth from him and ruined the image of his parents forever. The others were silent and with his eyes closed he could tell they were doing their own ritual, trying to talk their own past ones and were not focusing on him at all, and it allowed him to be at peace amongst the unlikely company.

He kept his eyes closed even as Versailles steady but soft voice that carried a gravity that seemed to still the night and shadows itself, "We gather here under the watchful eye of Hekate's moon to bridge the veil between our worlds. We ask the lord of forgotten souls and remembered lives of love and family to help us, to speak with those who came before us. Let our hearts guide us, and may they hear our call and answer in any way they can."

Harry felt a chill from the air turning colder and was unaware the bowl had somehow caught fire; he felt a pleasant warmth coiling around him and sunk into the feeling.

"Remember them and your memories and feelings, they will tether their souls to you," Versailles spoke aloud and Harry found himself nodding and trying to do just that and focused on his parents, the shining flame of hair his mother had and her intelligent and kind green eyes he took after and the messy curls of his father who had similar glasses as him.

With the veil as thin as it is on Samhain, you could sense the presence and almost feel a touch on your shoulder or the light grumbles of a long-dead person. With Thanatos in their presence, it was simply amplified, Regulus spoke to a ghost-like apparition of his father, Orion Black and Versailles spoke soft murmurs with a red-headed woman and a curly brown-haired man - Lily and James. It was short and brief but then she sat on the base of a large tree talking to a beautiful black-haired woman for hours on end - her mother, Geneviève Sallow, the woman who died to make her creation possible.

She was a French beauty with a soft and haunting accent that made Versailles guilt simmer along her control. While her mother never blamed her for her death, Versailles couldn't accept it with how Siruis had handled it and blamed her. She could see why her father fell in love with her despite being the French equivalent of a Slytherin who studied at Beauxbaton Academy of Magic. The only thing Versailies cared about on Samhain was seeing her and the Potters and fall slient under the praise of them, seeking validation from anything - while her mother had thrown a fit when Grindelwald (a man that had terrorized one of her family members in the past) adopted her, she was happy there was someone strong looking after her daughter when her fiance couldn't and she wasn't happy in the slightest at what had become of Siruis after her death - Versailies and her never spoke about Siruis after an argument had happened when Geneiv'eve spoke about their past relationship years ago.

Harry cried when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned around to see flaming red hair and glistening green eyes looking down at him with such love, he hadn't remembered ever being pointed at him. Harry was about to fall to his knees, overwhelmed as the hazy forms of her parents came into view. They stood together, their hands clasped as they gazed at him with love. They looked exactly the same from the photo he had found in an old school photo that was shown proudly in one of the old student cabinets.

"Mum," he cried softly and lunged at her with a deathly tight hug he had no idea how that was happening, but he didn't care, his mum as here, right in front of him. She hugged him gently, and ran her hands through his hair, "Harry, my dear. Were so proud of you."

He looked up from his spot nuzzling her stomach and saw his dad who smiled widely at him. "Little Prongslet," he whispered happily, and he stepped forward and joined the hug.

Some spirits didn't speak, but their presence filled the clearing with warmth and bittersweet familiarity. As the first light of dawn began to creep into the clearing, the spirits began to fade. Harry reached out as if to hold his mother's hand for one last time, but she smiled and shook her head, her form dissolving into the rising mist.

When the last spirit had gone, the group sat together in the circle, their hands clasped. Versailles broke the solemn silence, "They heard us," she said, her eyes glistening. "And they answered."

The others nodded; their hearts heavy yet lighter all at once. They rose together and Versailles blew out the bowl of flames and pulled out the small but powerful stone and placed it into her pocket.

"Thank you," Harry finally spoke to her after the others had left to go back to their dorm and giving them privacy.

"You deserved it, to see them for who they truly were, now I hope you will honour them however you can," Versailles told him after she took his words in for consideration. "You have much potential and obstacles in your path Harry, and you must be careful. While you just saw that Death isn't the end for most, do not try and seek it before your time."

Harry took a deep breathe in, while the thought came across his mind to finally be with his parents he didn't want that just yet. He finally had a home at Hogwarts, friends to call his own but it was an appealing idea. Her words seemed gentle, but he could hear the harsh reprimand and demand in it, and he nodded, without answering. He didn't know how to answer that, it seemed as if she knew him more than he knew himself.

As they left the clearing under the cloak, the sun rose higher, casting golden light over the sacred space where, for a moment, the veil had lifted.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I know I've been gone for a long time but hi and thanks for still loving this! I don't know why you do but thanks xx

PLEASE READ!
I know some of you are gonna hate me which is fine but I'm sorry/excited to say that I'm reworking this fic into a Percy Jackson crossover...there's gonna be new family members, a bunch of oc's, an orginal (from my understanding) pjo quest, drama, angst, war and betrayal. Versailles and everything in this fic will still be the same just an extra love interest and a godly parent. Comment if there's anything you wanna see in the new crossover fic! I love hearing your guys comments so much xx I'll keep this fic up for people who want to read it and I might still update this but I'll be focusing more on the pjo crossover fic. I've finished all the cast and moodboards just gotta write lol.

So Harry and Val have a complicated relationship and hopefully I've conveyed that. Val see's harry as her family and that's why she watched over him when he was at the Dursley's but there's also a little jealously there due to her father. It's going to get more hectic and strained when he comes back. But Val does just want the best for him but want him to grow up independently but also have that familial love hence him coming to hers for yule. She also hates the Dursleys because she knows how they mistreat him. The part with her mum probably seems out of the place but I realized I never gave her a name or characterization and thought that was the best place for it lol.

vote and comment x

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