The Marauders' Sons

The sun rose over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and for most of the students who were soon to wake up, it would be yet another day of lessons. But for several Gryffindors, today would be a day to remember. Today was November the First, and Harry Potter was to receive the Order of Merlin, First Class, at the Ministry of Magic. Or as Harry liked to think of it as he awoke, I have to accept that bloody piece of metal and then deal with the hypocrites at the Ministry for a whole fucking day! Harry, evidently, did not want to go.

"Fuck," he said, as he awoke and saw his dress robes that he bought the other day were hanging from the frame of his four-poster bed, taunting him as if to say, "You have to go! You have to go!" He glanced towards Ron's bed and, true to form, he was lying spread eagle, snoring loudly. He would be there with him, but Ron being Ron, he would like it a lot more than Harry would. After all, the food was bound to be good. He looked over at Dean and Seamus' beds, and saw that Seamus was tossing and turning even still. Harry, Dean, and Ron had noticed that Seamus seemed pretty tense recently. He slept less, and when they were together during the day, he appeared to be very stressed out. Not only that, but his temper was even shorter than it had been before. Tom didn't notice, probably because he didn't care. Ah, Tom. He was awake, as his bed was empty, and Harry was dreading his next meeting with the young American.

The revelations of the night before had quite an effect on Harry. Harry and Tom had a habit of getting to each other, but they were still friends, and friends didn't kill another friend's father. The guilt that had rubbed him raw from the previous summer had returned in full force, and if anything, it was worse. Resigned to a terrible day, he dressed for his only class of the day, Transfiguration, and headed to the common room.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the first thing he saw was the last thing he wanted to be confronted with at the moment. That, of course, would be one Tom O'Malley. He was standing at a window, looking out onto the grounds, when he greeted him.

Tom had always confused Harry a bit. Everything that had to do with Tom, what he did, what he said, what he even looked like, had to be viewed on different layers. There was almost always a subtext, something that was just scratching the surface, yet not obvious enough that it was easy to pick up. Harry supposed it was one of the reasons Hermione was drawn to him the first place. What better position than that of girlfriend to figure out the inner workings of a teenage boy? Tom's current stance was a good example. To someone who would just glance at him, he was looking stoically out the window, deep in thought. Harry had the feeling that there was more to it. He appeared to be almost searching for something out the window. But what? I don't have the time, I'll leave it for Hermione. I'll bet half the reason she likes him is because he is a walking, talking, riddle.

"Hello, Harry."

"Morning," Harry responded, as they descended into a short silence that Tom broke, the whole time maintaining his gaze towards the grounds on the other side of the window.

"I can feel your guilt from here, Harry. You have no reason to blame yourself, or even apologize, which I know you are about to do."

"Tom..." Harry was at a total loss, as his whole little rehearsed apology left his mind as soon as he tried to recall it.

Tom, as always, couldn't let it die. "Harry, if it really was a trap, and you did go to save him, and you died trying, would you want him to blame himself?"

Harry had heard the argument before, but this time it finally sunk in. Tom was as close as he was going to get to actually talking to Sirius for a good long time, so hearing it from Tom mattered that much more than when the rest of the world had tried to pass the buck for him. If Sirius' son, whom never got a chance to meet the man, didn't blame him, how could he blame himself?

"Are you still coming to the ceremony?" Harry asked, feeling slightly better.

"And miss your speech, are you kidding?"

Smirking to himself, Harry went down to breakfast. But as he closed the portrait hole, a thought occurred to him. I barely said a word! How did he do that?

Pushing that thought aside, he went down to the Great Hall to talk to Luna before his big day. She was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, like she usually would, but today seemed different. There were no bottle caps around her neck, she didn't have the dreamy look to her, and she actually looked like the rest of the Ravenclaws, mostly because she looked serious as anything. Harry was worried.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted her as he kissed her cheek. Every morning, he would come over and do this, and the first time he said this, almost a month ago, she replied, "My name is Luna, remember?" Unfortunately, Ron was present with Hermione and Tom at the time, so Ron felt he had to contribute.

"Oh, he remembers," he said as he made a very specific motion with his right hand, as Harry gave him a glare, Hermione smacked him in the arm, and Tom tried to hide his grin from Hermione.

Since then, it had become sort of a traditional way to start the day, he calls her beautiful and she corrects him. This morning, though, she just nodded and picked at her breakfast. Obvious warning signs.

"Luna, what's wrong?" he asked her, worried by her normal-ness.

She looked at him with her great, blue eyes, and he could tell what was wrong. He had felt the same way many times before.

"Harry, I don't know if I want to go with you today. It's not that I don't want to see you on your big day, but there will be reporters and such...and you're Harry Potter...and I'm Looney Lovegood," she finished, eyes downcast.

"First," he said, "your name in Luna Lovegood, and you usually have to correct me in the mornings. Second, don't worry about the reporters. I know I'll look like an ass, so if worse comes to worse, we come out looking like equals."

"Don't worry, Harry, you bought new robes, I doubt that they would split already."

"Isn't this the sight," came the familiar drawl of Draco Malfoy, as he strutted in with Mia Franks on his arm, their "relationship" being their cover, "a Gryffindor giving a Ravenclaw advice. Next thing you know, a Hufflepuff will mount to something."

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry retorted exasperatingly, clearly not being in the mood for this.

Draco looked poised to respond, but he paused as he glanced at something on the other side of the Hall, and merely shrugged.

"Sodding," he said, as he traipsed off.

Just at that moment, Ron and Hermione made their way to Harry.

"What's he up to?" snarled Ron as Draco and Mia walked away.

"Dunno," Harry responded. Ron let it go for the time being, but Harry and Hermione could not help but notice he glanced at Malfoy as they left for Transfiguration. Tom was nowhere to be found. He had a meeting with Dumbledore.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom had trouble sleeping the night before. It wasn't because he was upset; he just wasn't tired, not at all as a matter of fact. He tossed and turned for a few hours, but he had way too much nervous energy to go to sleep. He figured he was screwed--he had a very busy day ahead of him, and he hadn't slept since yesterday morning. As he made his way to Gryffindor Tower after talking to Remus and Dumbledore, he actually thought he would get right to sleep, seeing as he had such a trying day. It wasn't everyday that one discovered the identity of one's father and the murderer of said father. Bellatrix Lestrange was deader than she could possibly know. It wasn't even that, though. That would keep him up for hours, but he actually did not sleep for one second the entire night. Around 1:30, he finally decided to call it quits and he staked out the common room window, and just looked out the window, taking it all in, trying not to think, surrounding himself with the world. He was looking for peace.

That was how Harry found him that morning. But when he sensed Harry coming down the stairs, he also sensed...guilt. A lot of it, and it only intensified when Harry reached the bottom of the stairs. He knew why, too. Last night he had heard the full story of how his father died, and Harry, in his weird, semi-egotistical way, blamed himself. After he had a sort-of conversation with Harry, Tom made his way once again, to the office of Albus Dumbledore.

When Hermione mentioned something about a "Keeper," Dumbledore looked worried, and that was something that Tom did not feel comfortable with at all. Dumbledore was not supposed to get worried, it wasn't right, yet he looked like Voldemort had dropped in for tea because of one word from a friggin' statue. He said that he would discuss it tomorrow, and as far as he could tell, this was tomorrow. So he trudged his way up the familiar corridors until he found himself in front of great oak doors that led to Head's office. Not even waiting for Dumbledore to do his "I know you are there so I'm going to call you in even though you can't see me" thing, he just walked right in.

Except Dumbledore wasn't there. Tom walked in and he was the only person there, though Fawkes was there. Tom liked Fawkes, and seeing as he had nothing better to do until Dumbledore came back, he walked over to the phoenix and started to pat his beak.

"Hey," he said softly as he approached the bird, who seemed like to like him as well, seeing as it started to sing. Before his conversation with the phoenix could continue, he felt the Headmaster enter the office.

"Good Morning, Tom, I see you have been watching Fawkes for me while I have been gone," Dumbledore greeted him, as he took his seat behind the desk.

"Morning, sir, I wanted to talk to you actually...again."

"Yes, it does seem to be a recurring theme these past few days, does it not?" the old man said with a smile as Tom took his seat before the Headmaster.

"Professor, last night, when I unceremoniously entered your office, I didn't use a password. The statue just let me through without a second thought. Then Hermione said something about a "Keeper," and you said that you would talk about it tomorrow, and, not be rude, but this is tomorrow."

"Tom," Dumbledore said, "you are correct. But first I must tell you that this will be slightly disturbing, and I also ask that you not question what I am telling you, as it will make sense when I am finished."

"OK," Tom said, slightly reluctantly. This is off to a flying start.

"Very well," Dumbledore responded, "are you familiar with the story of Macbeth?"

"Uh, prince hears prophecy about becoming king, kills king, becomes king, kills other people, gets killed."

"Close enough," Dumbledore answered, not being able to keep the amusement out of his voice, "Shakespeare did a good job of changing the story to pretty much what you just described. However, the true story is much more. For one thing, Tom, you are currently sitting in the king's quarters of the castle that was once called Dunsinane, the seat of the Scottish throne."

"You mean..."

"That's right, Tom, this is the same castle as from the play. There really was a Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, and Duncan that all called this castle home. Though many of the similarities end there. In those times, the Muggles and Wizards lived together, and since the Muggles outnumbered the magical people of the time, as they do now, Muggle law governed the crown. That is to say, a Wizard could be king, but the throne must be acquired through birth or Muggle means, in other words, hand-to-hand combat in the Muggle way. Wizards of the time studied within these walls, as it was even then a most powerful magical place. That's part of the reason the Dark Wizard Macbeth coveted the throne. When he had his chance, he orchestrated his power-grab, and through a blood ritual, connected his line to the castle. He became the most powerful being in the world, because he and those of his descent could draw power from the castle itself. Needless to say, dark times followed. Then four young wizards rose up against the Dark Lord who was now referring to himself as the King of Darkness. They were Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff. All powerful in their own right, they organized a resistance against Macbeth, and when they gained the allegiance of Duncan's son Malcolm and the English crown, Gryffindor managed to make a challenge for the thrown, and won. Then the four soon-to-be-founders got together and decided that the war that they fought was so costly, that another one like it could not be risked. So they decided to give Malcolm the throne, but they kept the castle, as they planned on establishing their own government for wizards, and thus the schism between the Muggle and Magical worlds occurred."

"Ah, sir," Tom interjected, "where do I come in?"

"All will be revealed. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the schism. As I said, the two worlds split. The four then founded Hogwarts, and for a number of years, there was peace, with the four ruling the Magical world. Then, while walking in the castle, Hufflepuff found a chamber inside the castle that held something so terrifying that she immediately ran for her three compatriots. It was the veil that currently resides in the Department of Mysteries. When the war for the crown began to go against him, Macbeth left a description of the veil and instructions on how to use it."

"Instructions? What exactly is the veil?"

"It is a gateway between this world and the next. Like all gates, it can be used both ways. Macbeth left instructions on how to bring him back, should he fall. It required so much magic that only his heir could ever accomplish the feat, and the heir would have to be inside the castle, so the founders decided to create what is now the Ministry of Magic, and they hid the veil deep within. The more powerful the wizard that you want to bring back, the more power needed in the one that performing the ceremony and the one sent to take his place."

"You mean a human sacrifice sort of thing?" asked Tom

"Precisely. Balance is very important in magic; someone must first go through the veil in order for someone to be able to come back. Anyway, to make sure that the evil that was Macbeth could never return they created the Keeper of Dunsinane, which is still, by the way, technically the name of the castle, though the school is Hogwarts. Ravenclaw bore a son to Slytherin, and Gryffindor had a daughter by Hufflepuff, and those children had a child, who through the same blood ceremony that Macbeth used, became tied to the castle, and its magic. But unlike Macbeth, who used it with reckless abandon, the four founders decided that the Keeper of Dunsinane would only wield that tremendous power if it were needed. They also chose not to give the Keeper all of their powers, but only the ones that they would need. The Keeper of Dunsinane is, for lack of a better term, the embodiment of the founders and the castle. It also happens to be you."

"Me? ME? ME! I'm not even British for God's sake!" Being all-powerful wasn't sitting well with Tom.

"Yes," chuckled Dumbledore, "you. You are the one who was created by the founders to protect their most cherished legacy, this school, and by extension the world as we know it. Apparently the Fates have decided that the time of the Keeper has come, and one day you will be more powerful than I could ever have been. This castle is like a part of you, my son, and you alone are the one who can protect it totally. As long as you are within these walls, you are invincible. The farther you stray however, the weaker you become."

"But...how do you know it's me? How are you so sure?"

"I first suspected it when I discovered that Sirius was your father. The Black family is descended of the Keeper's line, and for the Keeper to be born, there must be a crossing of the line with the Muggle world. Not any crossing, but a crossing involving all the other extenuating circumstances that were involved in your birth. Your mother had to have been at least half Muggle. Astralimency is the talent that Hufflepuff was famous for, and your often-annoying ability to read the emotions and intentions of people around you is an intelligence-leaning form of empathy, a trait famous of Ravenclaw. You can ask Alastor, Remus, and Nymphadora about your talent with the sword, and it was Gryffindor that slew Macbeth, and as far as Slytherin goes, well, I am willing to bet with a little training, you will be able to manipulate the wards of this castle as well as he, their creator. You had no problem circumventing the defensive wards of this office. The gargoyle let you through by duty, but he is not the only protection this room has. You have been showing the signs for a while, but it took a strong surge of emotion to pull it out of you. This is plenty to take in, and I will explain your absence to Professor McGonagall later. You need to reflect, I believe. Also I should warn you, the founders were very protective of this castle, so they will be watching."

"How so?"

"Tom, I hope you never are in such danger that you have to find out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As it turned out, Tom never did make it to Transfiguration. Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat the class; each watching the door like a hawk, but after the bell rang signaling the end, Tom was still quite obviously in absentia. The thing that really bothered Hermione was that the usually stern McGonagall never blinked an eye at such an obvious skive. This could only mean that she knew it was going to happen.

The Trio then made their way back to Gryffindor Tower among jealous glance from many of their classmates, as the other had class, and the Trio had a party. Harry, for one, would have gladly spent the rest of the day in Snape's dungeon as opposed to actually going through with this. He and Ron entered their dormitory to find Tom sitting on his bed with his head in his hands, starring at the floor. He did not look happy, so naturally Ron pointed it out.

"Christ, mate, what's with you?"

"Ron," he answered with a long-suffering sigh, "you really don't want to know. As a matter of fact, I don't want to know. But there you go."

Harry and Ron, a little perturbed that Tom hadn't flown down their throats when he was given an opportunity to do so, decided that this must have been serious, so they pressed further.

"Tom," asked Harry, "what has gotten into you today? Look at it this way, you get to see Hermione in a dress and me make a fool of myself at the same time."

"As enticing as that is, I'm really not that psyched at ever leaving my bed, let alone this room."

Okay, as I suspected, sympathy isn't going to get me anywhere, so I guess I'll talk to him with something he understands. Anger.

"High-and-fucking-mighty Tom O'Malley isn't happy," Harry berated him, "boo-fucking-hoo. Look, I quite frankly don't give a damn if you are there today or not, but Hermione does, so get off your lazy, Yankee-ass, and get dressed!"

Ron and Tom were taken a little aback at this sudden outburst, but it worked. Tom got up, got dresses with the other two, walked down the stairs, and as proof that he was still Tom, bitched that Hermione wasn't done getting ready yet.

"Where the bloody hell is she!" he whined. Harry and Ron immediately started to laugh and he took notice.

"And what is so funny?"

"Bloody hell being said with your accent," Ron answered, "You have definitely been here too long."

"No fucking shit," Tom muttered under his breath.

"It hasn't been that bad, has it?" came a clearly feminine voice from behind him. Standing behind him was the one thing he feared above all else: Hermione in a black dress. It wasn't a little black dress, but for this kind of event, the elegant gown that she had on would be required. It was strapless, yet did not reveal much in the way of cleavage, but there was enough for Tom, thank-you-very-much. The back dipped to the small of her back, but stopped short enough to maintain her proper look and the rest of her dress came down neatly to the floor. Her hair was done up with a tendril of hair framing her face, and she was wearing make-up, not too much, but just the right amount. The reason that he feared her like this was because there was nothing he wouldn't do for her as it was. In that dress, however, he was a mindless accessory to her beauty and slave to her every whim. Not that he minded.

"Ups and downs," he answered with a smirk as he looked her in eye and kissed her hand, and then her lips.

"When you two are quite finished," Harry called, slightly annoyed, "I would like to get my date!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After the little scene in the common room, and Ron grumbling that he was dateless, he, Harry, Hermione, and Tom made their way to the Entrance Hall, where Tonks was fixing the tie to Remus' dress robes and Dumbledore was waiting patiently in his splendid midnight blue dress robes. The only one missing from the party was Luna.

"Wotcher, you lot! Ooooh, Hermione, look at you! You look gorgeous!" Tonks called as they reached the bottom of the steps, inducing a deep blush in Hermione. She wasn't going, but she was here to see Remus off. That and being a female, she absolutely had to see the dresses.

"You lads don't look too bad either," she commented as she kissed Harry, Ron, and Tom on the cheek, getting blushes from all of them.

"Didn't know you blushed," Hermione purred in his ear as Tom fought valiantly against his blush.

"If this arrangement is going to work tonight, we are going to have to instill some rules."

"What arrangement is that?" asked Hermione, slightly confused.

"If you are going to look that good, and expect me to maintain the ability to form cognitive thought, certain tones are not permitted," he answered, giving her a sweltering stare.

"Who says I want that?" she asked right back, with an equally steamy look.

"Do you two ever stop?" asked Ron wearily.

"Do you have to kill every moment you get the chance too?" asked an unhappy Tom.

"Actually, I think he does," added Harry, remembering all the times Ron had killed the mood between he and Luna when the group of them were together.

Ron was about to make a comeback, but he was distracted by the sound of heels on stairs, and as a group they watched Luna descend the stairs that led to the Ravenclaw common room, and if you listened hard enough, you could probably hear Harry's heart rate jump as he saw her.

Luna was wearing a sleeveless, burgundy gown that showed off her upper chest and dipped slightly in the back hugging her curves, with her hair dropping down beautifully to her shoulders. Unlike Hermione, however, Luna decided to have her dress drag a little behind her, whereas Hermione's dress barely touched the floor. But to prove she was still Luna, she had a bottle-cap bracelet on to go with the silver necklace around her neck. To be blunt, she looked stunning.

"Hi, Harry. You look nice," she said, as she kissed him on the cheek. Harry, for his part, was speechless.

"Luna, you, ah, you're..."

"Yes, Harry?"

"Gorgeous."

Luna blushed deeply and took his arm. Then she addressed Professor Dumbledore.

"Is it time to go?"

"Yes, my dear, you are right on time, and might I say that you and Miss Granger look ravishing. We will be taking a carriage led by the thestrals to the Ministry visitor entrance, though unlike your last trip, the carriage will be under a Disillusionment Charm. We will arrive precisely an hour before the ceremony, and the actual ceremony will only last about thirty minutes, though the reception afterwards will have us returning to the castle sometime around midnight."

When Dumbledore finished, he led the group down to Hagrid's hut, where the carriage was already prepared. After Hagrid saw them off, they departed for the Ministry.