Harry opened his eyes with a gasp. His eyes were unfocused and he could see the worried faces of Sirius and Dylan who were holding him.
"Harry, are you alright?" asked Sirius worriedly.
Harry grabbed Sirius' shirt, pulling him closer. "Sirius, it's here," he hissed. "That cup belongs to Voldemort! Helga Hufflepuff's Cup!"
"What?" Sirius exclaimed in disbelief. He turned around and saw the small golden cup which was sitting on a shelf, glinting innocently, looking nothing like a piece of Voldemort's soul.
"We need to destroy it!"
"What's going on?" asked Dylan hesitantly.
"That cup, Dylan is something which is very valuable to Voldemort," said Harry quietly. "We were searching for it but I never knew that it was here in the Lestrange vault! Voldemort gave the cup to Bellatrix for safe keeping. Sirius, we need to store it somewhere safe. If it falls into the wrong hands - if it is lost…"
"I know," said Sirius grimly. "But I can't take it out. I don't have the authority."
"But I can, right?" said Dylan curiously.
Harry and Sirius turned to face him, looking confused. Their expressions cleared. "We can't let you get involved in this, Dylan," said Sirius, shaking his head. "If Voldemort were to find out you were involved in this you could be in grave danger! No, we'll have to figure out another way for me to claim access to it."
"Listen, I don't care about that!" said Dylan heatedly. "You two have done so much for me over the past month. No one has ever shown so much care for me before. You took care of me, got me clothes, gave me food, and gave me a home… There is nothing I can do to repay you for that. But this is something I can do. Please, let me help you!"
Sirius looked conflicted. He did not want to paint a target on the boy, but this was way too important. But if they destroyed all the Horcruxes, there would be no target on him at all.
"Alright, Dylan," said Sirius finally.
An hour later, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff was kept in a highly secured vault at Potter Castle.
...
The rest of the summer passed rapidly. Harry's O.W.L. results had come a few weeks back and he had gotten an Outstanding in all his twelve O.W.L.s, which made everyone very happy. It was now the last week of August and Harry and Dylan were in Diagon Alley, finishing their school shopping. Amelia was now staying at the manor full time because she was close to delivery and she was getting quite irritable at the smallest of things. Luckily, Sirius took the brunt of her anger. Harry and Dylan escaped to Greengrass Manor during the mornings. Dylan seemed to have become friends with Astoria so it worked out quite nicely for Harry who wanted to spend time with Daphne.
At Twilfit and Tattings, Harry ordered a full set of robes for Dylan made of silk. Dylan protested, but Harry was having none of it.
"Like it or not, you are the Scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange," said Harry quietly. "All attention, mostly negative, will be on you when we enter Hogwarts. I don't want you stepping inside the castle on a back foot. The first impression is important, Dylan."
He refused to get new books but instead, kept Harry's old books in which the older boy had written useful tips on the margins. It was certainly useful considering that Harry was a genius. Harry also bought a Crup for Dylan and the boy was ecstatic about getting the puppy for a pet. Once regular shopping was done, they entered Ollivander's shop.
"Ah, the new Mr Lestrange," said Ollivander suddenly, startling them both. "Harry Potter - Yew and Thunderbird tail feather, fourteen inches."
"Yes, Mr Ollivander," said Harry. "I need to speak to you, but it can be done after Dylan gets a wand."
"Yes, I remember the wands of both your parents, Mr Lestrange," said Ollivander as he took measurements. "Your father preferred Blackthorn and Dragon Heartstring, very well suited for a warrior, but your mother's was a Willow and Unicorn hair wand, better suited for healing magic. But let's see what suits you, shall we?"
"Here you go… Beech and Dragon Heartstring, Nine inches…"
Several tries later, Ollivander gave another handsome looking wand. "Try this, Mr Lestrange. Rowan and Phoenix feather, twelve and a quarter inches. Nice and supple."
When Dylan took the wand, he felt it heat up. Bright sparks shot out of the end of his wand as he swished it down making Ollivander cheer. "Bravo, Mr Lestrange! Good, very good. Now, what can I do for you, Mr Potter?"
Harry carefully removed a box from inside his robes. "This is the basilisk fang that nearly killed me a few months ago, Mr Ollivander," he explained. "It pierced my forearm from where I was poisoned. Since that night I have felt a connection to it and I was wondering if it had anything to do with a focus."
Ollivander gazed at Harry pointedly. "You've read my books on wand lore, haven't you?"
"Yes," said Harry honestly.
"Good boy," muttered Ollivander. "No one seems to care about wand lore these days other than those who want to pursue it as a career." He touched the fang with a pair of dragon hide gloves and closed his eyes to feel it. "You're right. You do have a connection with this fang. The very tip of it has your blood on it too, which is mixed with the basilisk venom. I think I can modify your wand if you are interested."
"Oh, I'm very much interested," said Harry as he flicked his wand out of his holster and presenting it to the old man. "I'd like Dylan to have a holster too."
"It'll take me a few days, Mr Potter. Come by my shop the day before you are to leave for Hogwarts and you'll have it ready."
"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," Harry bowed with respect and ushered Dylan out of the shop.
....
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