Harry Potter- Knowledge

is Power

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3876970/1/
Author: Fettucini

Chapter 1 to 28

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Chapter: 1
Author's Introduction: READ IT!

I was reading random fanfics the other day, searching for just the right one when I
realized something. I really, really end up disliking a lot of the ones I start to read. I
figured that author’s could make things a lot less complicated if they identified the main
aspects of each story at the beginning so readers can (a) see prematurely if they’ll like
the ideas within a story and (b) decide whether they should waste their time reading. I’m
going to do that here very briefly:

- Harry, in this story, is two years older than he is in canon. Nobody else’s age is
different, as far as I know, except for Harry being born two years earlier than normal.

- The year in which Harry will start Hogwarts will be the year 2000, rather than 1990, or
1991 like it is in canon. Eventually, the story will branch out into the muggle world, it will
make things more exciting and easy for me if I can write in technology I know about,
instead of having to refer to wikipedia and discover what technology was around in the 90’s . . .

- This does not change the fact that he, too, is a candidate to be the ‘child of prophecy’,
for if you read it carefully ‘the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches’
does not necessarily mean they are about to be born.

- Hermione, Ron and Ginny and pretty much the rest of the Weasleys will not play as
much of a main role as they do in canon, or many other fan fictions. Yes, Harry will be in
the same year as the twins, but he won’t be befriending them. Ron and Hermione won’t
come into the story until Harry’s third year, due to the aging change.

- Harry is not the ‘Boy-who-lived’.

- The prophecy will force nothing in this story. It will be as it should have been; a
possibility rather than a sure thing. I hate it when people make the prophecy give Harry
god-like powers or make Harry and Voldemort Invincible – it just won’t happen in this story.

- Harry’s strength will be believable, as in, anybody who works as hard as he does could
achieve it. This is the case because he’ll be strong using magic available to everyone – he’ll
just be better at it because he worked for it. The only thing he will be able to do that isn’t
available to is speak Parseltongue.

- Parseltongue, in this story, works just like a Metamorphagus’ powers work, and by that,
i mean how one obtains the ability. They randomly pop up in someone every now and
again, and once it does, it becomes hereditary (Tonks had it, none of her relatives did,
and then she passed it on to Teddy).

- Neville Longbottom is the Boy-who-lived and his personality will be different because of
it. Instead of suffering ridicule for his whole life, he has been showered with praise. He
will not be evil, or mean. Just a little stupid, self-righteous and arrogant – like a young
James Potter or Ron Weasley.

- Therefore, what actually happened that night is that Riddle chose to go to the
Longbottom’s manor first; Wormtail is still the Potters’ secret keeper, while Bella,
Rodolphus, Rabastan and Barty Jr went to the Potter’s house instead, after Wormtail
sold them out. What actually happened that night will be explained in the story.

- Ignotus Peverell is Neville’s ancestor, not Harry’s – the cloak belongs to Neville.

- Yes, Harry will be somewhat super compared to other wizards by the time he graduates
from Hogwarts. He will never flaunt his power or use it to beat down bullies and flex his
magical muscles.

- Harry’s powers and abilities will be believable; no power boosting rituals that no one but
him, funnily enough, performs. No multiple or magical Animagus abilities that allows him
to become a phoenix/basilisk/dragon etc. No famous magical ancestors who, upon
Harry’s magical maturation, give him super powers. He is not related to any of the
founders. Basically all the annoying shit like that won’t be here.

- Harry will excel (ridiculously so) at Transfiguration, Charms, Runic Magic, Arithmancy
and Parsel-magic. Possibly, he may also combine his Parsel healing magics with muggle
medicine/ surgery later on, it hasn’t been decided. All his powers will be believable, and in
my opinion, make the fight scenes all the more awesome.

- Don’t expect Harry to go all out for the first time until the end of his seventh year (Fifth
year canon).

- Harry is an anti-hero. Many people will think he’s cruel, a jerk and not a nice person.
Those people will be right. Think Greg House, he’s bitter about something, absolutely
brilliant, and a smart-ass who doesn’t care about anyone but himself – the only difference
is that he does care for people he considers family, he just won’t tell them.

- Harry will not be dark, evil, or light. He’ll do things his own way, not caring what anyone
thinks of him when he does.

- The magical world will be expanded on in a major way. After he graduates from
Hogwarts, very little of the story will be based in Britain.

- Don’t expect Harry’s personality to mirror ninety-nine percent of the Gryffindor’s

personalities. He’ll be a Ravenclaw to the bone, though that particular sorting system will
come under scrutiny eventually.

- Dumbledore is not evil; he genuinely does want the best for everybody. The road to
hell though, as they say, is always paved in good intentions. His manipulations won’t be
nearly as severe as some other fanfics authors make it out to be though.

- There will be OCs. Harry’s best friend and the best friend’s love interest will be OCs
from canon families. People usually don’t like OCs because they either become Mary/Gary
Sues, or die off early. I won’t make promises, but tall OCs in my story will have their
characters developed, even more thoroughly than some canon characters. I also hope to
make them more likable than Hermione and Ron (their personalities always rubbed me the
wrong way). Remember that, at first, you may not like the OCs, but their characters will
be developed and, I hope, you’ll grow to love them and not even think of them as OCs later on.

- No Slash or Severitus, Nuff said.

- Harry will be paired with Fleur, eventually. I have rather unique, in my opinion, views on
love and how relationships form. I don’t believe in love at first sight and I’m not really
good at writing fluffy scenes. I also despise promiscuous girls, and while I definitely have
guy friends that love nothing more than to fuck a girl and move on, I also heavily frown
upon that too. Expect that bit of personality to be implanted into Harry’s psyche – he’s
the kind of guy that will fall in love with one girl, and that’s it. Do what you want with that
information; I’ve already figured out how all pairings in my story will be formed.

- Lemons may or may not make an appearance. Definitely Limes though, as sex will be a
heavily discussed subject in this story – what teenagers don’t talk about it? Or, in most
cases, experience it.

- The humour in this story will be the kind I find funny and the kind you would usually hear
if you hang out with my friends and I. We like to rag on each other a lot, and we laugh as
we do it. Sarcastic, downright slapstick at times, or even classic one-liners, these are the
kinds of jokes to expect.

- Also, in terms of length, expect it to go well beyond Hogwarts – in my opinion; the story
won’t really start until Harry graduates. Think of Hogwarts as one huge, character
building, Prologue. An interesting prologue, but one that doesn’t really get into the story
that much, merely goes through canon events in a different perspective.

Now that you have some idea of what this story will be like, you can chose to hit the back
button, close the window in a fit of rage, or continue reading. I hope you enjoy it and
you should know that I try to respond to every review I get, so don’t be afraid to leave
questions or try to contact me.

However, if you leave a dumbass review asking questions, or making complaints about
errors, that have clearly been explained in the story already, expect me to lash out at you.
It’s rather annoying.

On with the story:

Chapter 01: Harry Potter and Diagon Alley

Remus Lupin, a sickly yet handsome looking man that looked to be in his early thirties,
stood with his hands buried deeply in his tattered brown coat as he watched the football
game being played out before him. He was chewing the inside of the scarf wrapped
around his neck anxiously; this looked to be shaping up to be one of those ‘close ones’
that were bad for his heart and health.

The rather cold weather was usually a good deterrent for anyone who wanted to spend
their Sunday mornings outside, but for Remus, the temperature didn’t matter. What
mattered to him was watching his adopted charge give it his all to win his side the championshi

Said child was dressed immaculately in a navy blue and white football kit, his shirt
perfectly tucked in and his socks pulled up high – a vast contrast to his scruffy looking
team mates. The boy was Harry Potter, the most brilliant, determined and intelligent young
individual he had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Remus had adopted the boy not long after his third birthday when his father had been
killed and his mother had fallen into a coma.

Neither of them liked to talk about how that came to pass. Remus was, after all, very
close friends with his parents, they were like family.
Despite the tragic circumstances that lead to Harry’s ever so brief stay at the
orphanage, Remus had made it his mission in life to provide the boy with everything he
needed, and make sure he was as happy as possible.

It would be a lie if someone were to say that Harry was a difficult child, because it just
wasn’t true. The boy may have a twisted, witty and often sarcastic sense of humour that
would show itself whenever the boy grew irritated, it was one of the things he grew to
love about the boy – one of his unique quirks. It was a unique, amusing and yet humbling
experience to have intellectual arguments with a boy he was trying his hardest to raise,
but he’d be lying if he didn’t say it was a pleasant one.

At first, when Remus had adopted the boy, he was a mess. Having basically witnessed
the attack on his parents that ruined their lives, it was quite understandable. The
traumatic experience had a lasting affect on the boy. He often spent most of his days
back ten in his room, sitting at his desk, and staring out the window at the sky for hours.
It was extremely hard to get the boy to speak more than a few words to anyone, and
when he did, it was a simple greeting before he clammed up again.

Remus had briefly considered therapy for the boy before the most amazing thing
happened; Harry started to open up to him when the boy expressed a willingness, nay, a
need to learn and acquire knowledge. Harry would often spy him on most nights with a
glass of Brandy and a good book, reading in silence as they each pretended that the other
didn’t know they were there.

As a child, Remus had always been one to believe that knowledge was power, and that
those without it were doomed to be weak and fail in life. It was a view of the world that
Harry eventually adopted from his guardian and opted the boy to ask for some home
schooling, Remus was more than happy to oblige, secretly glad the boy opened up to him.
It eventually proved to be the basis of their bond, one that Remus was more than happy
to cultivate.

Why home schooling and not enlist in a regular school, you might ask?

There were a few reasons, both bizarre and fascinating alike. One reason was that
Remus wanted to teach the child personally first to see if Harry’s inquisitive mind was any
sign of his intelligence. Suffice to say, Remus was satisfied with the results.

The second reason was more bizarre than fascinating though; the bulk of what Remus
would be teaching Harry just wouldn’t be available to the boy if he enlisted in any of the
public or private schools London provided – heck, any other school in the world for that
matter. What he, of course, was referring to was that the both of them were a part of a
world that existed completely parallel to the regular, mundane world.

Harry and Remus belonged to the world of magic where people could utilize and control a
spiritual force from within them to perform supernatural and miraculous phenomenon that
regular people would think impossible!

Remus could hardly expect the local public school, or private for that matter, to cater to
that particular aspect of Harry’s life, mainly because the average, non-magical folk –
better known as muggles – were strictly forbidden from knowing about the magical world
unless they were related to someone who was a part of it. Several hundred years ago
with the muggles hosting their witch burnings in the middle of their town squares
destroyed any notions witches or wizards may have had for a peaceful coexistence.
How did this affect Harry’s schooling though? Well, usually it wouldn’t, but Harry was a
special case. With a mind that would have anyone label the boy as a genius and an
understandable desire and thirst to learn about magic and all that it entails, Remus felt it
was his duty to oblige his charge and teach him all that he wanted to learn. So long as
Harry promised to keep up with his muggle studies, Remus indulged the child and taught
him whatever he asked to learn of magic – the boy seemed to flourish under those conditions.

This is what brought them to the here and now. At the age of eight, Harry had taken an
interest in football and had asked to join the local team so he could play. Remus, believing
that an active lifestyle would be beneficial for the boy, didn’t hesitate in allowing Harry to
play for Highbury United, the closest team to their home.

If Remus wasn’t certain that Harry couldn’t perform magic wandlessley, he would have
sworn that the boy was performing some sort of magic on the field as he played. The
boy seemed to be naturally gifted at the sport, the coach having immediately placed him
in the midfield where he flourished after realizing his incredible talent. Remus didn’t boast
to anyone about this, but it was clear that Harry was the best player on the team; it was
also why he enjoyed coming to watch so much.

The ninety minutes of the match were almost up, and unless something changed, it looked
like the game would go into extra time. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big issue, but with the
fact that their side had suffered a red card when one of their defenders mouthed off to
the referee forced them to pick up the slack to cover the empty slot. Brilliant footballers
for their age, they may be, but they were still just kids. Their side looked to be running on
their last breath, and unless something happened, Remus doubted they would have the
legs to run out and continue to perform during extra time.

Remus breath hitched in his throat as Harry received the ball from their goalkeeper in the
midfield. Harry would make something happen, that’s why the coach loved him so much.
The boy’s ability to pull out brilliant plays, virtually from his ass, was why he was so good
at the game; that and he had a wicked right foot.

From the dead centre of the ground, Harry gave a long, through ball down the middle of
the park to their forward. The boy was surrounded by defenders and couldn’t do much
other than turn his back on the goal and look for a team mate to pass it off to. Imagine his
surprise when he sees Harry running to the edge of the eighteen yard box at full pace,
his man having chosen to run after the ball and attack the ‘more dangerous’ forward
instead of marking Harry like he should have.

The forward let of a short pass in the space Harry was running to, hoping the boy was
pleased with the positioning of the ball.

It didn’t seem to matter regardless. Harry’s contact with the ball was nothing less than
spectacular. Remus watched with open mouthed shock as the ball was, at one second, at
Harry feet, and the next, in the back of the net. It was a Rocket shot! The keeper never
stood a chance and the defenders couldn’t even see it!

The moment of stunned silence ceased as parents, siblings and players of Highbury United
alike erupted in loud cheers. The game was practically over now! That had to have been
the last play! The tin ceiling of the underground area rumbled as the cheering, stamping
and screaming of the onlookers shook the very foundations of the small, shed like area
they were all crowded in to shield themselves from the cold.
Before Remus could understand what was going on, Janine, a single mother to one of the
other boys on the team grabbed both his cheeks in a strong grip and planted a large wet
kiss right on his lips that lasted for a good few seconds. If Remus wasn’t so stunned by
her forwardness, he probably would have opened his mouth to allow for the tongue, as
things were though, he was slightly surprised, to say the least. God bless single, hot,
football mothers.

Shaking out of his daze, Remus was able to see Harry running back to his position so they
could kick off again, leaving his team mates behind to continue celebrating. The sight of
Harry eyeing him from his position with an amused expression was enough to properly
fluster the man.

Harry Potter sat on his bed holding his most prized possession under his right arm,
strumming its strings absent-mindedly to the tune of the first song he learned to play on
it. The object that he treasures above all else was none other then his mother’s guitar,
the very same one she used to play to him to get him to sleep as a child. He never
remembered it all that well, but, if he really tried, he could vaguely recall flashes of her
sitting by his bed and humming the tune to some of her favourite songs as she played
them to him, it always seemed to soothe him.

Ever since he had obtained the guitar from Remus as a birthday gift for his eighth
birthday, he made it a mission to learn to play it as well as she did, if nothing then for just
a tribute to the mother he was robbed of as a child. At first it was stressful learning to
play the complicated instrument, considering he had no real teachers to learn from;
rather, he just had his mother music books with her favourite songs of all time written in
them. It didn’t take too long for him to master the very first song in the book, which was
coincidently his mother’s favourite piece.

Hotel California, by the Eagles.

Sure, in retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea for an eight year old to try and learn
to play the song that was credited to have one of the best guitar solos of all time in it; his
fingers were barely long enough at the time to reach every note! However, once he
learned that it was his mother’s favourite song to play form her music book, it became a
personal mission for him to learn and master it – he went at it with the same fierce
determination he used when attempting to learn anything in his life.

It had taken him the better part of a year to get the song down to the point where he
could play it while reading the notes from the book, and while most would say that it was
a waste of time, especially given the circumstances, the satisfaction for Harry to be able
to connect with his mother on some level more than made up for it.

Sure, he could have asked Remus to get him a teacher, and it would have been an easy
task for him to do so. However, for some unexplainable reason, he extremely disliked
sharing his guitar, or his ability to play with anyone other than his mother herself.

What Harry found amusing was that once he had learned to play the first song in his
mother’s music book, every other song after it came much more easily. He often wondered
if she had purposefully intended to learn that particular song first so that playing the
instrument would come easier for her too. The possibility that Harry shared another
commonality with his mother always brought a smile to his face.

He often wondered if whether his desire to connect with his mother on such a level
bordered on obsessive, but when he thought about it, he felt honoured to be able to do
so. It wasn’t that he didn’t respect or take pride in his father, because that simply wasn’t
the case, but ever since the tragic incident when he was three years old that tore his
family apart, he felt indebted to his mother. It was a debt he believed he would never be
able to repay.

He never liked thinking about that night, but his mind often drifted to the incident when
he played his guitar whether he wanted to or not. His father had died that night, and
moved on to the next life, but his mother had suffered a much worse fate in his opinion,
and it was all to protect him.

Bellatrix Lestrange. The name caused him to almost lose his place in his song as a wave
of hate washed through him. The woman, along with three of her terrorist friends had
attacked his home in an effort to locate their missing lord during the last great Wizarding
war. The woman was a Death Eater, or rather, a servant of the Dark Lord Voldemort,
who believed that one’s purity of blood should dictate their status in the Wizarding world,
often committing atrocities and crimes against humanity to get their point across. He
didn’t see the logic behind such an ideology.

His father had been killed in the attack on his home, he had been told, once the events of
the attack became known by the Wizarding authorities. Four people attacked their home,
all of them some of Voldemort’s most powerful enforcers. His father, James Potter,
attempted to defend his family by taking them all on at once, only to be killed by a loose
beam from the ceiling of their burning house falling and hitting him hard over the head.
This however, didn’t occur until he successfully subdued three of the four Death Eaters.
James Potter died a hero.

The fourth Death Eater, Bellatrix, had snuck behind the fighting men up the stairs to
where his mother was guarding him in his room. The two, according to the reports, traded
fierce and powerful spells for a while, but his mother was simply the better duellist, and
witch; however, skill wasn’t always the deciding factor when fighting terrorists. Before
his mother could incapacitate Bellatrix, she had fired off an unknown dark curse at him, a
curse that his mother had taken for him by jumping in the way of it after he sent a
stunning spell at the Death Eater.

All four death eaters were apprehended and sent to the harshest prison in the Wizarding
world, and even though they had failed in attempting to locate their master, they had
succeeded in destroying his family. His father was killed while valiantly holding off three
powerful wizards and his mother was put in a magical coma of the likes Wizarding healers
couldn’t heal her of; all because they were defending him.

She now currently resided in the Wizarding hospital, St. Mungo’s, in their permanent
spell damage ward, under the protection and care of the hospital and its staff.

People would think he should be happy that his mother was technically still alive and
breathing, those people were idiots. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy she was alive, it had
more to do with the fact that he wasn’t happy with the situation she was in. In a coma
the most experienced healers in the world couldn’t lift and wasting away in a hospital,
not even able to move on to the next life in death, merely wasting away. No better than
a vegetable or a mental patient. Sometimes, though he’d never admit it out loud, he
wished she just would have died that night – at least then, she would have been able to
move onto the next life with his father, the man she loved more than anything in the
world, according to Remus.
The guilt often ate away at Harry. He knew it was completely illogical, but he couldn’t help
it. Every breath he took, every thought he had, every experience he lived through was
only allowed to come to pass because his mother sacrificed herself for him. He was living
a normal life and his mother had to pay the price for it.

For that he felt he owed his mother a debt he could never repay.

It was for that reason that he dedicated his life to finding a cure for her, no matter what it took.

His mother was the reason he had pressured Remus into teaching him and helping him
understand his parent’s school texts, his mother was the reason he had Remus accelerate
his learning in muggle schooling, his mother was the reason he played football and trained
every week - he needed to keep fit after all.

No one but himself knew the reasons for him wanting to learn and become as powerful as
he could – Remus probably suspected, but he never confirmed it. True, knowledge was
power and he told Remus he thought as much, but power without a purpose was
pointless. What was the point of becoming as powerful as one could be if you had no
reason to utilize said power?

Harry continued to play his guitar as he pushed the thoughts of his parents out of his
mind. It was good motivation to think of them, but it didn’t do to dwell on the past if he
wanted to help his mother. It was odd how playing this guitar always put his troubled
mind to ease, it was like his mother was watching over his shoulder, trying to ease her
son’s woes – not in person, but in spirit. He liked that feeling; it was probably why he
played as often as he could.

Harry finally cast his mind to more current affairs.

Such as the letter addressed to him sitting on his desk.

The letter had been delivered not an hour ago by a brown barn owl, signifying that it was
obviously from the Wizarding world, as owls were the preferred method of mail delivery.
He only needed to look at the wax seal that sealed the letter to know its purpose and who
it was from.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the most prestigious school for learning
magic in Europe. It was seen as a great honour in Wizarding society to be accepted to
said school, but Harry didn’t see it. As far as he could tell, nearly every magical child in
Great Britain who was able to wield magic, even in the slightest, was accepted.
Regardless, if he wanted to ever attain the freedom he required to help his mother, he
would need to graduate from the school, and graduate well.

“It never ceases to amaze me how good you are at that, no matter how many times I
hear you play” a voice said from his bedroom door, causing Harry to stop playing instantly
and jump slightly in surprise. He had been so lost in thought he let his uncle sneak up on
him, well, it wasn’t too surprising, he had been quite the prankster while at school
apparently, according to his father’s journals.

Harry turned to Remus with a scowl on his face “Please, sneak up on me more you
bloody paedophile,” he said in jest “you don’t know how to knock?”

Remus let out a bark like laugh at that “In all honesty, it’s your scrawny little arse that does
it for me Lucky” he said with a grin “please don’t tell anyone? The ladies would be devastated.”
Harry visibly winced at the mention of his nickname “I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

Remus didn’t seem to be paying attention though “I really do love it when you play that
particular song though” he said, taking a backwards seat on the desk chair and leaning
his arms on the back rest “Your mother used to play it for us all the time, your father in
particular was a fan of it – being brought up as wizards and all, we didn’t really know
much of muggle music” he said, Harry didn’t miss the dark look that came over his face at
the mention of his old group of friends.

“Obviously, Wizarding music hardly compares, so imagine our surprise when your mother
tells us she can play the guitar and starts playing muggle music of the kind we have never
heard before. She had your father begging to play more after just one song, he was her
biggest fan” he said with a chuckle. Harry couldn’t help but smile, he loved hearing stories
about his parents.

“Is there anything you wanted?” asked Harry, not sounding rude, but Remus usually had
a point when starting conversations, he wasn’t one to waste words when unnecessary –
unless he was pranking him or telling him a random joke, of course.

“Nothing much, actually, it has a lot to do with the letter sitting unopened on your desk
actually” he said, casually signalling to the letter laying unopened behind him “you know,
most kids usually go ballistic when they receive their Hogwarts letter, aren’t you even a
little excited?”

Harry just shrugged “I’d much rather continue my home schooling,” he said
“unfortunately, the Ministry wouldn’t recognize you as an official tutor, especially for
someone who’s an heir to a wealthy pureblood line,” he finished with a shake of his head.

Remus had to agree, but Harry didn’t need to know that “Don’t worry about it Lucky,
maybe finally you can meet some real friends at Hogwarts, people like yourself,” he smiled
at the boy “I didn’t think I would ever meet any friends when I first went, that was until I
met your father” he said with a sad smile.

“I might be a bit more excited if I wasn’t already ahead of my peers and I could still play
football . . . I have no idea why they don’t play it at Hogwarts – it’s not like wizards and
witches don’t follow the sport either. . .”

Remus just shrugged, conceding the point “You could always do some independent study
in your own time if you’re really that far ahead, and it never hurt anyone to revise
knowledge you already know” he said “that and you haven’t actually done much practical
work at all, I’d imagine that would be fun” Harry nodded, it was true, he had yet to use
a wand of his own to do magic, relying on Remus’ on the rare occasion when he could pilfer it.

“And in regards to football, I’d like to say I agree, but Wizarding Britain is one of the
most backwards magical countries in the world, ideology wise, anyway. Purity of blood is
only a real issue in some European and Asian countries, nowadays,” he shrugged “Why
don’t you play Quidditch instead?” he asked, a little too hopefully “the basic concept is
the same, you have goals, you score by putting some balls through them, you have
formations and tactics, it’s just a little more exciting” he said with a chuckle as Harry raised
his eyebrow in amusement.

“Football is much more civilised sport than Quidditch” Harry lectured patiently “that, and
I’m just better at it.”
“You haven’t even played properly yet, you’ve just flown on one of my old brooms,”
Remus shook his head in exasperation “besides, Quidditch is in your blood – you know,
your father was the star player on the Gryffindor team, a chaser, back in the day.”

“What is this?” Harry asked sarcastically “Gryffindor propaganda? Is that how they stay
popular these days?”

“Hardly Lucky, Gryffindor is the house for the chivalrous and brave, and while I’m not
saying you’re not either of those, I’d picture you more as a Ravenclaw, one who values
knowledge, intelligence and wit above all others” Harry shrugged, having already come to
that conclusion himself from what he had read about the school he would be attending in
a book called ‘Hogwarts: A History’.

The school apparently had a way to sort each new student into one of four houses
representing each of the four founding members of Hogwarts. Gryffindor, as Remus had
already said, the house that accepts the chivalrous and brave, Ravenclaw, the house
which values knowledge and intelligence above all others, Hufflepuff, the house which
values hard work and loyalty and finally, Slytherin, the house which favours the cunning
and ambitious. He didn’t much care which house he ended up in, but Remus’ guess was
most likely the correct one of he were to get sorted on his current personality.

“When are we going to Diagon Alley to get my supplies?” asked Harry, trying not to
sound too eager to get his first wand. He had used Remus’s before and it just felt wrong
to do so, when Harry asked why that was, Remus said that the wand chooses the wizard
and that he would undoubtedly have better results with his own wand.

“Hmm, I think we can go as soon as tomorrow for your birthday as long as you send your
reply to Hogwarts tonight” he said with a smile as he ruffled Harry’s hair.

Harry scowled, but his smirk lessened the effect it usually had as he swatted Remus’s
hand away.

“Now, before we eat the dinner our wonderful house elf has prepared for us, how about
you play me a song?” Remus asked as he smiled at his adopted charge.

“Nope,” Harry simply answered “I’ll be down in ten minutes; I need to have a shower.”

“Wha . . . why not? Can’t you play me at least something from that Jon Bovi group?” he
looked pathetic with those really weak puppy dog eyes, “please?”

“You’re a grown man for Christ’s sake, show some dignity,” Harry paused as he mentally
recalled Remus’ last statement “and it’s Bon Jovi you twat, get it right.”

“Right, whatever,” he waved it off casually “how about a Beetles song then? I love the Beetles!”

“I don’t.”

“Go away,” Harry practically shoved him out the door so he could get dressed “you’re
being annoying.”

Sure, Harry respected the man for having the guts to come and claim him from the
orphanage after his parents’ unfortunate circumstances, instead of wallowing in grief and
forgetting about him like many would; but he was just so annoying sometimes!
Harry woke up on the morning of his birthday, July the thirty first, bright and early.
Unfortunately, to expect to wake by natural means with a guardian like Remus Lupin is a
bit of a stretch to hope for, which is why he found himself hanging upside down from the
ceiling in his bedroom soaking wet from head to toe and dripping in freezing cold water.

“Just wait, you bastard, the second I get my wand . . .” Harry muttered under his breath,
with promises of pain and suffering as he waited out the timed charm Remus cast on his
bed to wear off. After a good five minutes of waiting with blood rushing to his head, he
fell safely to his mattress below him; however, knowing his guardian, he immediately rolled
off his bed and onto the floor to avoid any other surprise pranks.

Unsurprisingly, his bed exploded in a massive display of honey and feathers. Harry gritted
his teeth in irritation. That would have been annoying to deal with.

Grabbing his still unopened Hogwarts letter, he dashed out of his room lest he tempts fate
just enough and eventually gets hit by another of those pranking spells. Harry quickly
sidestepped an orange flash as another of Remus’ timed spells zinged right past his head
and into the wall behind him. Harry quickly made his way to Bartholomew’s room to have
his reply to Hogwarts delivered, before another spell could hit him.

Bartholomew was Remus’s delivery owl. He was a fairly large and beautiful eagle owl with
dark brown silk like feathers and piercing orange eyes that almost glowed in the dark when
the lights were out. The room the owl specifically inhabited was the attic of the house they
lived in, which was surprisingly roomy with a small window for Bartholomew to leave and
arrive from. His perch was placed next to the window with a tray of water and owl treats
nearby .

Quickly opening the Hogwarts acceptance letter that was labelled ‘Mr H. Potter, 14
Jackson Road, Highbury, London’, he quickly skimmed through it and found exactly what
he expected to be written inside:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump,
International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September (or when you happen to register). We await your owl by no
Later then 31st of July.

Yours Sincerely
Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry snorted in amusement when he realized he was cutting it quite short, but
Bartholomew would get it there within a few hours easy – he was a fast owl after all.
Skimming through the letter, he found a list of supplies filled with things he needed to go
to Diagon Alley for to purchase:

HOWGARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Uniform
First year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please not that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Set Books
All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl, cat or toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROO

“No Broomsticks?” Harry re-read quietly with a frown. If he couldn’t play football, he was
hoping to play at least Quidditch, but it seemed he was being robbed of that too. Maybe
he could get on the team in second year; he’d have to find out later. For the mean time,
he’d just take his football in case he got bored.

Writing a quick reply saying he would be in attendance, he attached the piece of

parchment to Bartholomew’s leg tightly before addressing him.

“Hey boy, I need you to take this to Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts as quick as possible,
think you can do that?” Harry asked, as he stroked the plumage on Bartholomew’s chest.
With a soft yet almost commanding hoot from the powerful looking owl, he nipped Harry’s
fingers affectionately before leaping off of his perch that his powerful talons were
gripping on and out the window, zooming off towards Hogwarts at top speed.

Not many people used Eagle owls for mail delivery as they were expensive to buy and
hard to get, especially magically trained ones, but Bartholomew had been a gift from his
father to Remus in his third year at school. Also, eagle owls were known to be one of the
faster species of owl out there, being naturally larger then any other breed of owl and
having more powerful wings helped with that.

Staying at the window and watching Bartholomew until it flew beyond his field of vision;
Harry turned around and headed down the wooden stairs of their house to see Remus
waiting for him in the kitchen, trying to his a mischievous grin. Remembering how exactly
he had woken up that morning, he swiftly walked over to the grinning idiot and thwacked
him on the head for good measure.

“You just wait until I get my own wand dear Remus” Harry began “don’t think a silly
ministry’s underage sorcery laws will stop me from getting you back for all these years of
tasteless pranks” he said with a wicked grin, Remus couldn’t help the shudder that went
up his spine at the sight of it. For some reason, he knew that Harry would indeed be able
to make good on his threat.

“Until then, I think I will enjoy my very tasteful prank on a defenceless underage wizard
thank you very much! And Harry Birthday!” he said, with his grin not having wavered one
bit “Seeing as we’re going to Diagon Alley today, I figured I’d give you your present
there,” he promised happily “This will be the first time you’ve actually gone to Diagon
Alley personally isn’t it?”

“You know it is” Harry replied with a roll of his eyes as he pulled some scrambled eggs,
toast, sausage, bacon and hash browns on his plate – a growing boy had to eat!

“Ooh, Master Harry, a very Happy Birthdays to yous!” cooed the odd little creature in a
very motherly way from the stove. The creature, apart from speaking poor English, was
mostly a dark green in colour, roughly three feet tall, with large sparkling eyes and batty
ears hanging from the top of its head. She wore a very ‘maid’ like dress that covered most
of her body and was currently making what he assumed would be his birthday cake for
later, if the pot with chocolate mixture within was any indication.

“Thanks Lizzy” he smiled at their House Elf, who Remus had obtained from Gringotts on
the day he had adopted Harry for help in raising a child. The man may have wanted to
give Harry a loving home with the absence of his parents, but he had no idea where to
begin when raising a young child, that’s where Lizzy came into the picture. Technically,
house elves are slaves in Wizarding society, but the weird thing was that they usually
wouldn’t have it any other way, and very much enjoy working, so long as they are treated
well. Some Witches and Wizards treat them poorly, just because they’re slaves, but in
their household, Lizzy was treated with the respect and affection. She worked hard
enough to earn that, at least.

“Breakfast is wonderful as usual” he complemented the little elf, causing her to blush and
turn around and continue with her cooking. Lizzy was still fairly young for a house elf, at
the age of fifteen, as they could live for hundreds of years. She had never grown used to
the praise she received from her masters, being taught to expect otherwise as a child,
and she most likely never would.

“Yous is too kind master Harry, but Lizzy thanks yous” she said with a smile as Remus laughed

“I can’t wait ‘till you get to Hogwarts Harry, with the way all females react to you, I can
imagine receiving letters about rabid fan girls in no time!” he said with a loud laugh
causing Harry to scowl in response. Remus enjoyed teasing Harry about the reaction he
usually got from the female species, especially the siblings of his team mates from
Highbury United – they bloody made a Harry Potter fan-club, much to his annoyance,
and Remus’ delight.

Remus stopped laughing however when he received a spatula to the head, followed by his
hair turning pink. Remus yelped in surprise and turned to Lizzy in shock, had he looked to
Harry instead, he would have seen the triumphant gleam in his eyes.

“Lizzy is nots a ‘Rabid Fan Girl’, Master Remus, and yous should stop teasing Master
Harry!” she said with a little scowl of her own on her face as she continued to slap him
with the ‘Spatula of Doom’, much to Remus’s chagrin and Harry’s delight.

Remus parked his car at a parking lot near a pub known as ‘The Leaky Cauldron’, the
parking lot looked fairly empty, which was quite unusual, if you looked closely enough.
Every other parking lot in the area was filled to the brim while this one only had, at most,
thirty cars in it when it could house two hundred, at least.

Harry assumed that, given the situation, that magic was responsible for said oddity. It
usually was in London and something weird or unexplainable occurred.

Not before long, after manoeuvring through the busy London day-time streets, they
ended up in front of a dingy looking tavern that everyone, save for a few random, oddly
dressed people, seemed to completely ignore. The tavern was the one they had come
for, the Leaky Cauldron, and it looked like it had seen better days.

“After you Lucky,” Remus urged him “just go right through the tavern and head right on
out to the back. Were probably not the only people heading there, o you can follow
someone else,” doing as he said, Harry pushed open the door to see a surprisingly busy
tavern littered with all sorts of people – there were a few shady individuals seated in the
corner of the tavern talking amongst themselves, three hags laughing at what he
assumed to be an extremely funny joke, and mostly, Wizards and Witches having lunch or
just passing through.

As Remus had guessed, there was a child his age being lead by his parents to the back of
the pub, so, ignoring everything else around him and looking back quickly to see if Remus
was still following him, Harry allowed them to lead him through the pub and out of a door
only to find himself outside again, in a dead-end alley facing a brick wall.

Sensing Harry’s question, Remus motioned to the father of the family before them who
took out his wand and tapped a seemingly random series of stones on the wall. For a
few moments, nothing at all happened until, in a vertical line going down the middle of
the supposed dead-end wall, the bricks began to collapse on themselves outwards and
horizontally revealing an archway of sorts.

If he thought the Leaky Cauldron looked busy, that was nothing compared to the Alley
before him that was bustling with activity. Off to the right of the entrance they used,
there were small booths that people were popping into before going into the alley
themselves, most likely as an alternative to the way they entered.

“In the future, we’ll apparate in like those people are,” Remus promised him “but I figured
you’d want to enter it from the Leaky Cauldron for the first time like everyone else. I
remember doing this myself and how amazed I was at the sight of a busy Diagon Alley,”
narrated Remus as they headed down the alley towards a magnificent, tall white building.
Harry just nodded in thanks as he looked at some of the stores they passed by on the
way, the main one which caught his eye was ‘Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC

He also passed some Apothecary with a sign saying ‘Sale on Grindylow Slime, 17 sickles a
pound’ with a weirdly dressed – even for a witch – old woman smiling at people walking by
her shop with a large toothless smile. She’d probably get more customers if she stayed in
her shop instead of scaring people off before they even entered like she did.

Further down the alley, he passed a store that had all sorts of people crowding around it
looking at the latest racing brooms and Quidditch supplies. Most of the children seemed to
be looking on, with stars in their eyes, at the magical photos of Quidditch stars
performing various aerial tricks and acrobatics on their brooms. The one on display at
the moment was Albert Shearer, the legendary English Seeker. The man looked to be
Remus’ age, if not slightly older, with a gruff, if somewhat jovial appearance with short
balding hair.

“Where are we going first Remus?” asked Harry, trying not to sound like a kid in a candy
store, though Remus still seemed to think his behaviour amusing.

“Relax Harry, we’ll get your wand soon,” the man assured him with an amused chuckle,
“but first, we need to get some galleons from your trust fund to pay for all your supplies.”

Harry nodded, he knew Remus didn’t like using his trust fund to purchase his supplies, but
with Remus’ health condition and all, being a werewolf, it wasn’t exactly easy to find a job
or to earn money in the Wizarding Britain. The magical world scorned him for something
he couldn’t control, and the muggle world would not appreciate him having to take off
three days a month to rest after his transformations. Werewolves had it worst than most,
it seemed.
Another store that they passed by on their way to the Wizarding bank Gringotts was
‘Flourish and Blotts’ which was swarming with soon to be Hogwarts students getting their
required texts for the year. The store was the place everybody went to for their standard
‘Ministry approved’ reading materials, being one of the only shops in Diagon Alley that had
a selection as large and vast as their own. However, Remus had told him that if one
wanted to find books on more obscure and advanced subjects, the shady Knockturn
Alley was where you wanted to go. Knockturn Alley was the kind of place most parents
warded their children from by scaring them with stories of dark and evil creatures prowling
there in the night, ready to strike. Harry often scoffed at that idea, the only dangerous
thing in Knockturn Alley were the hookers - dirty slags, the lot of them. They’d do it with a
troll if they paid them enough.

Finally, they came to a stop before a large pearly white building near the intersection of
Diagon and Knockturn Alley that towered over the rest of the buildings as far as the eye
could see. As they neared the entrance, it was clear that the front doors seemed to be
made of solid bronze and looked immensely heavy, however, that wasn’t what caught
Harry’s eye, it was the two armoured Goblins standing guard outside the bank in gold,
and gem studded armour holding large, vicious looking pikes, looking as menacing as
possible. It worked quite well as a deterrent to any thieves looking to steal from what the
Goblins held within their coffers.

As they were about to pass through the main entrance of Gringotts, Harry noticed a
plaque with a small message to all who entered the building, an ominous message at that:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.

Wondering briefly what the message meant by ‘finding more than treasure’ down in the
bowels of Gringotts, Harry was escorted inside by Remus. When they entered, Harry
found himself in a large room with marble floors and numerous elevated counters
manned by Goblins, serving wizards and witches with their banking needs. As the two
lined up at the counter with the smallest line, Harry looked around some more to see
several pathways leading away from the main room, no doubt leading to the many
vaults and employee offices.

The Goblins themselves seemed to interest Harry as well, and not because of their looks
or the fact that they were Goblins either. Harry found their attitude to be extremely
amusing – bordering on aggressive but definitely rude, the Goblins made it their mission to
sneer at every single witch or wizard that they served, perhaps just to let them know that
while they are serving them, they didn’t like it one bit.

Actually, now that he thought of it, he couldn’t really tell if they were sneering or smiling,
their razor sharp teeth, long clawed fingers and large domed heads making for a pretty
intimidating image. No wonder most of the patrons would look away uneasily when they
so much as looked at them with their coal black eyes, making sure to let their pointy teeth show

Finally, it was their turn to be served and as the two approached the Goblin’s desk.
Harry was surprised to see that the Goblin didn’t sneer at them immediately, or he didn’t
think so, they were very confusing.

“How may we help you today sir?” asked the Goblin, seemingly ignoring Harry and
addressing Remus alone with something akin to respect, it seemed.

“Good afternoon mister Riphook” Remus greeted after reading the Goblin’s name from
the plaque on desk “We would like to withdraw funds from Mister Harry Potter’s trust
vault, if that wouldn’t be too much trouble” he asked politely.

The Goblin, finally realizing that Harry was indeed present, peered down over its glasses
right into Harry’s eyes with a frown on its face then back at Remus – the look seemed to
convey the Goblin’s question of ‘what the hell are you doing with him?’ but Remus decided
to ignore it. With a sigh, the Goblin nodded and wrote something down before continuing.

“Does Mister Potter have his key?” the Goblin asked in a resigned matter. Harry figured
his presence was as much tolerated as every other wizard’s presence in the bank – not
very well.

With a nod, Remus fished out a gold plated key from his pocket - no doubt much more
impressive looking then your regular vault key due to the Potters being an ancient
pureblood family - and handed it over to the Goblin to inspect. Riphook looked it over for
a few moments, checking to see if it was a valid Gringotts key, he assumed, before
nodding and motioning the two of them to a Goblin that stood over to the side of the hall
waiting with a group of five other witches and wizards.

When they arrived, the goblin seemed to do a head count before leading them all
together down a tunnel, Harry figured that they would take them down in groups,
otherwise it would be quite time consuming getting around beneath Gringotts and to
everyone’s vaults. It was a well known fact that the tunnels below Gringotts that led to
the several thousand vaults under their protection stretched all over underground Great
Britain, so it was most likely they would send people off in groups according to where their
vaults were located.

At the end of the tunnel, they reached a platform housing several oversized carts with
level controls on the inside hooked up to a railway.

“All aboard,” the goblin said with a sarcastic sneer in his voice which Harry and Remus
both grinned at. As soon as they all got on, the door of the cart closed behind them,
immediately, the cart lurched forward at impressive speeds through a long series of
twisting and turning tunnels. The speed which they were travelling, and the resulting
wind blowing harshly into their faces as a result of it, caused Remus’ eyes to water.
Harry’s eyes were protected from such things due to his seeing glasses; the rectangular
frames were always seen on his face, for it was seemingly a Potter curse apparently to
forever have poor vision; his father had poor vision, and his father’s father had it too –
now that he thought about it, he probably should discover a magical way to permanently
keep them attached to his face, until he removed them himself – a thought for another
time perhaps.

Finally, the cart stopped to allow one of the families access to their vaults, and even
though most of the others on the cart attempted to peer in to see the contents of the
vault, Harry didn’t much care, he’d seen galleons before and he thought it rude to intrude
like that. That didn’t mean he didn’t find it amusing when the Goblin would smack his cane
against their shins for peering into someone else’s vault, and glaring at them.
After several more stops, the cart stopped outside of vault nine hundred and seventy three.

“Come on Harry, this is your vault” Remus said, getting his attention as he’d been looking
over the edge of the cart the whole time. Stepping off the edge, they approached the
door and handed the key to the vault to the Goblin leading them through the tunnels only
to have him insert and turn it to unlock the large door with the sound of several locking
mechanisms coming undone as he did so.

The vault door swung open to let Harry see the piles of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts
within, the sheer amount causing several people in their cart to try and fail to stifle their
gasps. With an indifferent shrug, Harry went in and quickly took out a special money
pouch which held more than it physically seemed possible before placing several hundred
Galleons, Sickles and Knuts within, the amount of which would last him for a while.

Once he had finished with his task, he exited his vault and nodded to the Goblin to
indicate his work was completed, before mounting the cart once again. It took around
fifteen minutes for the last family to be done with their business before they finally
arrived at a busier looking Gringotts main hall once again.

“I’d suggest we get something to eat seeing that it’s already lunch time. . .” Remus
suggested casually, grinning as Harry glared – hard – at him, “but I guess we can get
your wand so you can stop glaring at me like a spoilt five year old child,” he finished with a
chuckle, only to yelp in pain when Harry kicked him in the shin.

“Why you little piece of. . .” but it was too late, Harry was already scurrying off towards
Ollivanders leaving an irritated Remus in his wake who was forced to follow his charge’s trail.

As soon as Harry entered the stall, there was a tinkle of a bell from above indicating to
whoever owned the store that they had a customer. Surprisingly enough, the small dusty
stall was empty currently, despite all the children his age outside running around getting
supplies. Oh well, he wasn’t going to complain, it just meant he could get his wand sooner.

“Mr. Potter, I remember the day your parents came in for their wands like it was
yesterday,” a voice said from behind him, startling him somewhat. Spinning on his heel,
he turned to see what he thought to be the Wizarding version of Albert Einstein peering
at him through his spectacles with interest, “yes, yes, mahogany and 11 inches, pliable,
excellent for transfiguration, your father’s wand was. . . and Lily Evans, your mother, 10
¼ inches, willow, swishy, good for charms work. Both very good wands, I assume you’re
here to get your too then?”

Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow “No, I thought I’d come for the view, as
marvellous as it is,” Harry replied sarcastically, causing Ollivander to chuckle.

“Cheeky, just like your father was, well then, this way, which is your wand arm then?”
asked the wand maker, pulling a tape measure out of his pocket and allowing it to float mid
air as it took the most obscure, and in his opinion, pointless measurements imaginable.
Harry just wanted his wand as quickly as possible, so he went with it, not caring either way.

“I’m right handed,” Harry answered, but he got the feeling that Ollivander wasn’t listening
as he had just dismissed the answer and went out back to bring out a few boxes, of what
he correctly assumed, held wands.

“Try this first, 11 inches, Dragon Heartstring, robust and good for defence charms,” he
said, handing him a char grey wand which immediately, upon having contact with it, sent a
chill down his spine.

“Nope, not that one,” Ollivander said, snatching the wand right out of his hand and
returning it to its box, “try this one, 11 ¼ inches, Unicorn hair core from a rather
arrogant male unicorn, good for finesse and skilled spell casting,” he explained, handing
the wand to Harry, however, this one almost burnt his hand right off as soon as he
touched it “Nope, not that one either, it seems the Unicorn passed off its arrogance to his
hairs as well. . .”

Fishing out another wand from the back, Ollivander had a smile on his face as he handed
it to the boy “This one should do it, 12 inches, Dragon Heartstring core from a particularly
fierce Hungarian Horntail, excellent for battle magic and charms” this one sounded
interesting to Harry, so, taking it in his hand and hoping for the best, he prepared to swish
it only for a large number of shelves to burst open and release their contents around him
in a wild display of chaotic magic.

Ollivander frowned as he took the wand back and went to get some more boxes; it was
also at that moment that Remus decided to enter the store.

“No luck yet Lucky?” asked the werewolf, to which Harry responded with a frown and a
shake of his head.

“I’ve already tried three, but none of them are right apparently. . .” he trailed off as
Ollivander came out with an armful of wand boxes. Remus got the idea that they would
be here for a while.

Harry couldn’t believe this, he had to have tried at least every wand in the damn stall, the
last one Ollivander was sure would have worked for him – some holly and phoenix
feather wand, but it was not to be, that one too left him feeling empty.

Suddenly, Ollivander returned from the back of the shop carrying something behind his
back with a serious expression on his face as he looked to Remus, who was lounging in
one of the stools provided by Ollivander earlier, with a bored expression on his face, and
Harry who was looking slightly anxious. The prospect of possibly not getting a wand was
finally starting to get to him.

“Never in my life have I had such a hard time finding a wand for someone Mr. Potter, it’s
the wand that chooses the wizard after all,” he began as he placed an old dusty box on
the counter “which is why I am even considering letting you try this one,” he said, opening
the lid and letting Harry see, in his opinion, the coolest wand so far. It had a rather thick
and curved handle made of some black coloured wood that looked to grip comfortably in
the palm of someone’s hand, the tip of the wand looked to be a unicorn’s horn carved out
of the same wood yet coloured ivory that had a ridge protruding from the spike like hilt and
spiralling all the way around it to the tip. The wand looked deadly, awesome, and
powerful - Harry wanted it.

Harry warily gripped the hilt of the wand and held it closely, peering at it with a fierce
intensity. At first, nothing seemed to happen - no reaction at all - causing Ollivander let
out a disappointed sigh. He was about to take it back and inform the boy that he had no
wand for him when a light suddenly began to shine brightly from the tip of wand, getting
brighter and brighter until Ollivander and Remus had to shield their eyes from the light;
however, for Harry, the light seemed comforting, warm and it didn’t burn his eyes at all,
allowing him to stare at the core of the light’s origin without the slightest need to shield
away from the spectacle.

The strangest feeling seemed to be coming from the wand, yet it wasn’t strange in a bad
way. It was a warm, tingly feeling travelling up his arm and then to his chest and out to
the rest of his body; if he were to try and explain the feeling he was experiencing, he
would describe it as finding a long lost piece of his soul after a long, tireless search before
finally reuniting with it. He felt whole, yet before touching the wand, he never felt empty,
it was hard to explain. It was strange, but Harry didn’t mind. He instantly knew this was
his wand, and he was happy, and he was glad that it was.

As the light died down, Ollivander and Remus were finally able to see Harry holding his
wand before him, looking at it fondly with a small and content smile on his face. Remus
was happy that Harry finally found a wand, both because it was his first wand and because
if it had taken any longer, he would have left the store and sworn Harry off magic for the
rest of his life. Ollivander, however, had a troubled expression on his face.

“Congratulations young Master Potter, I think it safe to say that we can expect great
things from you. That wand you hold in your hand has a long history, one that tells tales
of great tragedy and great success. That wand you hold in your hand can be considered
both a blessing and a curse, which is why I must tell you of its history and its origins. . .”
he trailed off ominously, making sure he had both their attentions. When he saw that he
had both their undivided attention (Harry’s was flicking between his wand and
Ollivander), he continued on with the tale.

“There is a wand of legends that has had many names in the past, but one name that
would be the most proper would be the ‘Elder Wand’, and that wand is the wand you hold
in your hands right now,” he began, in a grandfatherly ‘story-telling’ voice.

“If you are to believe legends, and in the Wizarding world, one will learn that to every
legend, there is always some semblance of truth, then perhaps this story may interest
you,” he said “There was once a story of three brothers who were walking, and in time,
came upon a river too deep and dangerous to swim or wade across, but because the
brothers were learned in the magical arts, they produced a bridge over the river. At the
middle of the bridge, they came across a hooded figure, Death himself. Death was
enraged, for the clever brothers crossed over the river unharmed while the previous
travellers drowned in the dangerous waters. Death pretended to congratulate the
wizards and told them they each deserved a prize for their marvellous magic,” Ollivander
paused there to gather his thoughts.

“The oldest of the brothers, who was a combative man, asked for a duel-winning wand,
also worthy for a wizard who conquered Death. So Death retrieved a branch from an
Elder Tree and fashioned a wand to give to the oldest brother,” he explained, motioning
to the wand in Harry’s hands causing Remus’s and Harry’s eyes to widen in shock “The
second of the brothers, who was arrogant, wanted to humiliate Death further and asked
for the power to recall the dead. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave
it to him and told him that the stone had the power of resurrection. The youngest
brother was the humblest, the wisest, and did not trust Death in the slightest. He asked
for something enabling him to move on without being followed by Death. So Death most
unwillingly gave up his Cloak of Invisibility to the brother. After this, Death moved out of
the way, and the brothers discussed their recent adventure,” Ollivander was pleased to
see that he had both Harry and Remus enthralled by his tale – they should be, it was
very important that they knew this information.
“In time, the brothers separated towards different adventures. The oldest brother
engaged in duels which he always won, boasting about his invincible wand from Death.
One night, however, when he was asleep, a jealous wizard crept up on him, slit the
brother's throat, and took the wand for himself; Death then took the first brother for his
own,” he said to the surprised duo. Harry looked at his wand warily, but still held it in an
iron-like grip, not willing to give it up.

“The second brother had a home where he lived alone; he got the stone out one day and
turned it thrice in his hand. The woman who he hoped to marry, only to have died
previously, appeared before him. She was separated from her deathly world and was
sad and cold. Driven mad, the second brother killed himself and rejoined his love in
death; Death then took the second brother for his own,” he paused, his eyes flickering as
he tried to remember the rest of the tale.

“Death never found the youngest brother until he took off the cloak and passed it to his
son. Death appeared upon the youngest brother who greeted him as an old friend and
they departed from the world as equals.

The three objects that death fashioned for the brothers were forever known as the
Deathly Hallows. It is said that whoever wields all three of the hallows will be considered
the master of death – so you see why that wand can be considered a blessing and a curse . . .”

Harry and Remus seemed pensive and troubled for a moment before Harry frowned and
looked at his wand then back at Ollivander “Sorry Ollivander, but no matter how much I
love my wand, I just can’t believe the story you told me to be even close to the truth . . .”

Seeing the man about to interrupt, Harry stalled him by raising his hand before continuing
“I’m not saying it isn’t partly true, because I really wouldn’t know, but to think this wand
would allow the wielder to be unbeatable in duels is laughable, Remus could still, with his
‘average’ wand, pummel me into the ground, regardless of which wand I wield. No
legendary wand will change that . . . wouldn’t it make more sense that this wand simply
allowed one to focus their magic much more easily, while having affinities for all kinds of
magic, like how your regular wands have affinities for certain branches of magic?”

Ollivander smiled mysteriously and chuckled “I share the same opinion, but one can’t argue
with legends. However, thinking the way you do already puts you a step ahead of that
wand’s previous owners,” he said with an approving nod “the last wizard to wield that
wand, was unfortunately, the Dark Lord Grindelwald himself, and it was the very wand
he was using when Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, defeated him in a duel,” he smiled mysteriously, “So, it is safe to say that given
that the wand chose you as its owner, and that Albus was able to defeat Grindelwald in a
duel at the time, that the stories can’t be one hundred percent accurate, hmm?”

Harry nodded and pocketed his wand before Ollivander’s face turned serious as he
looked to Remus “The lad is bright, perhaps it would be in his best interest to be taught
Occlumency to guard the secrets about the wand in his mind – many would seek to harm
and destroy him to be able to harness its powers, after all.”

Seeing Remus pale at the implications, he nodded in shock “I’m a werewolf, as you know,
we are naturals at Occlumency, I’ll do my best” he promised, still looking deathly pale.

Ollivander nodded and seemed to stare off into space for a while “It would probably be
best to get some texts for the lad about it, you won’t find what you need at Flourish and
Blotts though . . .” Ollivander said, trailing off. Remus, understanding the message,
nodded and motioned Harry to pay for his wand.

“Oh no, lad, I can’t accept your money for that wand, for it was never of my own creation
and I was never its master . . . could I, perhaps, interest you in a wand holster though?”
he asked with a cheesy grin getting an amused snort from Harry for his antics.

“Actually, it’s the lad’s birthday, I think I’ll buy a Dragon hide wrist holster with the
standard anti-summoning charms, given what you’ve told us about the wand, it will no
doubt come in handy,” Ollivander’s eyes twinkled merrily before going out back and
bringing out a stylish black wrist holster that looked to be made out of leather, which is
what Dragon Hide is often confused with.

“That will be twenty galleons good sir, and Happy Birthday Mister Potter,” Harry nodded
appreciatively at Remus and Ollivander, accepting the wrist holster. He put it on under his
cardigan sleeve, allowing Ollivander to show him how it worked. With a simple flick of the
wrist, the holster magically placed the wand in his hand from its resting place, and vice-versa.

Thanking the wand maker, Harry and Remus left the store to have some lunch before
continuing their shopping.

After lunch, Harry and Remus went to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions and
purchased a set of plain black school robes, a set of white shirts, a black cardigan, a
scarf, slacks and several ties for school. They currently had no house logo on it; the
seamstress informed him that the castle would deal with that little detail after he was sorted.

The next few stops consisted of him stocking up on his potions ingredients at an
Apothecary that smelt so bad that his eyes watered from the stench of the combined
ingredients. He definitely appreciated the art that was potion’s making, but he could never
really find any joy with working with some of the most disgusting ingredients on the
planet, despite knowing that it was a necessity.

He also stopped at the Astronomy store to purchase a top of the line telescope for his
star gazing activities at school. The telescope had several different settings that allowed
him to gaze further than any regular muggle telescope could hope to see, there was even
a function that mapped out constellations and drew them for you as you gazed through
the eyepiece.

Their final stop together was at Flourish and Blotts, which Remus was worried about, and
it turned out he had a right to be. After purchasing all the books on his school list, he
purchased the rest of the series of the ‘Standard book of Spells’ as well as books on
advanced Transfiguration theory, battle Transfiguration manuals, advanced Charms and
spell, and several texts on Runes and their application. It wasn’t like Remus could limit his
book spending budget, it was Harry’s money, so he just watched with resignation as
Harry spent more money on books than he had ever spent in his life.

“Harry,” Remus called after they exited the store “I need to go and buy that book about
‘you-know-what’ in ‘you-know-where’ before all the stores close,” he informed Harry, in
what the boy thought to be the most ridiculous display at failed subtlety he had ever
seen “hang around here until I get back and try not to do anything stupid?”

With a look that said ‘who me?’ yet didn’t reassure Remus at all, he begrudgingly left the
eleven year old to his own devices and headed toward Knockturn Alley.
Harry did another circle of Diagon Alley, pausing at random shop windows to gaze at
their wares until he paused when he saw a jewellery shop. The front window had a wide
range of beautiful gold, white gold and silver jewellery, as well as a large selection of
earrings, rings, necklaces and bracelets encrusted with all manner of jewels.

Stopping at a pair of rather expensive diamond earrings, Harry looked around to see if
Remus was coming back any time soon before throwing caution to the wind and entering
the rich, Goblin run establishment.

Remus, hiding a book under his arm in a non-conspiratory way and utterly failing at
looking inconspicuous let out a sigh of relief when he saw Harry leaning against a wall in
Diagon Alley waiting for him. His relief was short lived when Harry turned to him with a
satisfied smirk, revealing a pair of pierced ears. The sight almost made him drop the book
in shock for a number of reasons: One, the thought of what Lily would do to him once
she awoke from her coma when she realized what he allowed her eleven year old son to
do to himself, and two, the material they seemed to be made of – Harry couldn’t be that
stupid could he?

“Calm down Remus, its white gold,” Harry placated the man, his ear lobes sporting two
identical diamond studs, the base being made of white gold rather than gold or silver – the
latter of which was fatal to Werewolves.

“What have you done?” Remus asked with dread, causing Harry to look at him weirdly.

Harry didn’t answer, choosing to look at Remus in a bored manner instead.

“Your mother is going to kill me,” he exclaimed worriedly “I’m too young to die!”

Harry just grinned before motioning for Remus to follow him as they went home; Remus
following close behind looking a mixture between queasy and scared shitless. Lily Potter’s
temper was not something one usually laughed at.
Chapter: 2
Chapter 03: Welcome to Hogwarts

It had been a month since Harry and Remus made their trip to Diagon Alley for his
birthday, a month spent reading all of his first year texts and having Remus teach him
the beginning aspects of Occlumency with help from the book he had purchased from a
shady rare book store in Knockturn Alley.

Basically, it came down to learning to clear one’s mind of all thoughts so that someone
versed in the arts of reading ones thoughts will learn nothing; that was that basic
principals of Occlumency. Remus had him, to practise Occlumency, meditate so that he
can get into practise of clearing his mind of all thoughts, as meditation also required one
to do the same thing. At first, Harry found it difficult because as he’d meditate, he would
begin to think if he was currently thinking of nothing…which ended up being quite
counter productive. In response, Remus advised him to merely focus on his breathing in
and out to begin with before trying to empty his mind of thoughts.

It had taken the better part of the month, but Harry was finally able to empty his mind of
all thoughts. Remus had advised him to keep practising at school because to move onto
the next step of Occlumency, he would have to empty his mind of thoughts instantly, and
not in the thirty minutes it took him to do so at the moment. With a promise that he would
practise meditation and clearing his mind as much as possible, they departed from their
home to King’s Cross Station on September the first to catch the train that would take
Harry to Hogwarts.

King’s Cross Station during the morning was probably one of the most busiest places in all
of London, which was proved when Remus and Harry arrived at said station only to be
met dozens of families, people heading off to work, muggle school children and regular
citizens running around and rushing to their respective trains.

Harry had never had a reason to go to King’s Cross personally, so this was his first visit to
the famous train station, which would explain his awed and wary state of mind as he and
Remus approached. He never was one for crowds.

“Harry, stick close to me until we get to Platform 9 ¾ okay?” Remus asked with a kind
smile, understanding his adopted charge’s discomfort. Harry nodded and grabbed onto
the back of Remus’s coat allowing himself to be led through the crowd at King’s Cross as
they passed families that Harry was sure were magical also.

Finally, Harry and Remus arrived at Platform 10, a platform that was coincidently devoid
of any muggles.

“Harry, what you need to do is run into the wall right there” Remus indicated the brick
wall before them “it’s an illusionary wall that you can walk right through; Platform 9 ¾ is
on the other side” explained the brown haired man.

Harry nodded and was about to walk through before Remus put a hand on his shoulder
“It’s best to run through the first time, it can feel a little weird.”

Shrugging, Harry started at a jog and ran at the wall…

…Only to slam head first into a solid brick wall.

Remus was howling with laughter while Harry was clutching his now bleeding forehead in pain.

“It’s the wall on the other side of the platform isn’t it?” Harry asked rhetorically.

Remus couldn’t answer, he was laughing too hard.

Harry nodded and walked through the wall he just saw another family disappear through
on the other side of the platform. Why had he believed Remus so easily? Was it because
the number 9 ¾ closer to 10 then 9 and thus would be the wall closer to platform 10 and
not 9, like he was walking towards now?

His first mistake, he realized, was trying to put logic to anything in the Wizarding world…

Rule number one of the Wizarding world was to never try to apply logic to the Wizarding world.

Harry idly wondered if a bad joke about fight club was necessary to make him forget
about the pain he felt from his forehead.

Instead, immediately after crossing through the completely ordinary barrier, Harry
turned around and immediately smacked Remus with a hard close fisted punch.

He had punched before he even crossed the barrier, so there was no way he could dodge it.

The hit landed true and Remus dropped like a sack of potatoes…

…that was often the case when you rocked someone in the balls real, real hard.

“Now we’re even” said a smirking Harry to a Remus who was no longer howling in laughter
but now in pain as he rolled around the floor clutching his testicles…

…or what Harry assumed was left of them.

People were starting to look at Remus funny as he continued to moan and wheeze on the
floor clutching his groin area. With a swift kick to the ribs, Remus snapped out of it and got
up, if somewhat slowly.

“That was uncalled for” Remus said with a grimace after he managed to form coherent
words again.

Harry shrugged and pointed over towards a single brick that seemed to have fallen off the
wall lying near the portal “be glad I used my fist and not that brick – don’t think it didn’t
cross my mind” warned the still peeved Harry.

Turning a sickly pale white as he realized how close he was to never being able to father
children again, Remus just nodded and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Then I shall congratulate you and we shall never speak of this again” Harry had to agree,
it was rather embarrassing.

“So that’s the Hogwarts Express huh?” Harry asked rhetorically as he pointed to a large
red and gold steam train accepting passengers before it took off in half an hour.
“Yep, wonderful isn’t it?”

Harry just snorted “Hardly, it’s rather an eyesore, let me guess, the headmaster was an
avid Gryffindor” Harry replied, not waiting for an answer as they both knew very well that
Albus Dumbledore was indeed a Gryffindor in his youth.

However many centuries ago that was, what…being one hundred and sixty something
years old.

Remus just chuckled “Oh well, I guess this is it huh?” Remus said, failing at sounding
cheerful, this will mark the first time since Harry could remember that he will be away
from the werewolf for so long.

“Yeah…you know Remus…I got you a present…” Harry said, completely throwing Remus
for the loop; it wasn’t rare for parents to get their children something to mark the first
time taking the Hogwarts Express, but the other way around? Ridiculous!

“Oh? And what’s the occasion?”

Harry just shrugged “Call it a ‘thanks’ I guess” he said as he pulled out a letter with the
Gringotts seal on it. Puzzled, Remus opened the letter and gasped when he saw it was
the deed to an empty storefront in Knockturn Alley.

“I know it’s hard for you to get a job and all, but I figured, if you owned your own
business you wouldn’t need to worry about that, especially if it’s in Knockturn Alley seeing
as the Ministry of Magic steers clear from there anyway. So long as you don’t start a
drug smuggling ring or start selling slaves, they won’t need a reason to trouble you either…”

Remus just continued to gape at Harry with glassy looking eyes unable to believe what
his charge had done for him. He had always wanted to make his own way in the world,
to make an honest living, sort of a way to prove all werewolf haters wrong, but it was
nigh impossible to do so…Harry had just given him a chance.

“You have my key and my account manager knows to expect you, the deed is a gift but
anything you take from my account to start up the shop can be repaid with 2 interest
within five years if it bothers you so much, not that I care or anything, but I know how
you feel about charity” Harry said, grinning up at Remus only to be engulfed in a huge bear hug

“You don’t know how much this means to me Harry” an emotional Remus said, still hugging
the boy tightly “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

Harry snorted and tried to pry Remus off of him “Remus, people are looking, first you
were moaning and clutching your testes and now you’re hugging a small boy, people will
wonder…” he trailed off with a smirk as Remus let out a bark of laughter.

“You be good ok, and I guess you’ll be coming home for Christmas no doubt?” Harry
nodded with a sad smile as he remembered what he usually did every Christmas, it’s not
that he didn’t enjoy it, but it just brought up bad memories.

Harry nodded but before he left he turned to grin at Remus “Try and get laid Remus, you
have to be blue ballin’ something shocking…I feel for you” and with that, he boarded the
train, ignoring the indignant cry from Remus that followed him.
Once on the train, Harry walked down the corridor of the train, going from cart to cart
until he found and empty compartment. Seeing as it was almost time for the express to
depart, he didn’t end up finding a compartment until somewhere towards the back of the
train, forcing him to weave around all sorts of students, young and old, on the way.

The compartment he chose to sit in already had two occupants within, one of which was a
girl with long black hair tied in a low pony tail and tanned skin who was seemingly annoyed
with the other person in the compartment. The boy, who was having a one sided
conversation with the girl had dark brown hair, pale skin and high cheekbones, giving him
an aristocratic look, he also seemed to have a permanent cheesy grin on his face that he
wouldn’t drop, even while he talked.

“You don’t mind if I take a seat do you?” asked Harry to the two as he opened the door
after knocking politely “everywhere else is rather full…”

The girl seemed to be relieved to have a welcome distraction while the boy was merely
trying to size him up…like he was some sort of competition.

“Sure, as long as you don’t talk as much as this fool” he girl said with a smirk as she
motioned towards the boy who had a hurt look on his face.

“Why my dear Stephy-flower, you wound me!” the boy exclaimed over dramatically with
a hand over his heart to add effect.

The girl, Harry assumed her name was Stephanie, seemed to be rather miffed with the
name the boy had referred to her as, especially if the murderous look that crossed her
face was anything to go by.

Withdrawing her wand quicker then either Harry or the boy could track, she had it pointed
at his family jewels in a heart beat “Call me that again, and the ancient and noble
Montague line will be ending rather prematurely.”

Trying and failing to hide a smirk of amusement at the two’s antics, Harry watched as the
boy paled and leapt away from the girl as if she were a leper “No need for that Steph,
calm down and put the wand away” he said warily.

Finally realizing again that they had company, Stephanie turned to him and nodded “I’m
Stephanie Zabini, this fool over here is Archades Montague” she finished, motioning to
the boy with a rather large amount of distaste present on her beautiful face.

“Yeah, but no one calls me that, just call me Archie!” he said rather exuberantly.

“Harry Potter” Harry introduced with a nod as he sat down across from them in the
compartment against the window and tuned everything else around him out.

Stephanie and Archie looked at each other with confusion, wondering if they had done
something to earn the ‘silent treatment’ Harry was giving them. Shrugging it off, the two
went back to what they were doing before Harry walked in – Archie talking his head off
and Stephanie ignoring him.

Harry, on the other hand, was completely focused on a certain scene transpiring outside
of the train. The scene wasn’t spectacular or noteworthy in particular, but he couldn’t help
looking on with a strange sense of longing and jealousy. He was sure that even if he
wanted to, he couldn’t pry his eyes away from the scene.
He was looking at a rather young looking mother and father seeing their child off at the
platform, the mother fussing over the child by fixing his hair and cleaning off any imaginary
dirt on his face and the father ruffling his son’s hair playfully and affectionately. He knew
he shouldn’t be jealous, people had, of course, had it much worse off then he did, and
Remus was a wonderful guardian…

He couldn’t help it though, it was like a reminder of what his purpose at Hogwarts was
staring right at him with arrows and lights flashing and pointing in its direction.

Remembering his Occlumency exercises, he focused on clearing his mind as he ruthlessly

crushed the thoughts of jealousy and sadness that were rising up from within and stopped
looking out the window less he brood the whole train ride.

It didn’t take long, but eventually, the train took off from platform 9 ¾ with the year’s
batch of students ready for a year of learning magic.

The train had been travelling for five hours of the estimated eight hour journey and the
sun was beginning to set in the horizon. The image of the lush greens of the Scottish
countryside being painted orange and red by the sunset was definitely something Harry
would admit to finding a beautiful sight.

Unfortunately, within the compartment, the noise hadn’t died down much at all. Harry
wouldn’t have believed it possible that someone could talk so much for so long about
pretty much nothing in particular, but Archades Montague proved him wrong on that. He
could understand why the Zabini girl had snapped at him earlier, if Harry had to put up
with that constantly, and by the looks of the two, they seemed fairly familiar with each
other, he would snap also.

“So, what house do you think you’ll be in Harry?” Stephanie asked, trying to start up a
conversation with the green eyed boy, hoping to quell Archie’s need to talk for at least a
few minutes and earn some well deserved silence.

“Doesn’t matter” Harry said with a shrug “as long as I can learn about magic, I don’t much
care what house I’m in” he trailed off, not even looking at the people he was speaking to
as he spoke; he’d much rather keep his eyes set on the beautiful countryside that was
rapidly passing them by.

“Definitely a Ravenclaw then” Stephanie said with a nod, seemingly sure of herself “No
prior prejudices about any of the houses and a will to learn, I bet you’ll be a Raven. My
family has always been Slytherin so I’ll probably end up there” she said, skilfully dancing
around the topic on whether she wanted to be in the house of snakes or not.

“I’ll be in whatever house my dear Stephy-poo will be going in!” exclaimed Archie
exuberantly; Harry wondered if the boy ever ran out of energy.

“Don’t call me that you baboon!” shrieked Stephanie at the brown haired boy who just
laughed her off. Harry snorted in amusement at their antics, wondering if they realized
that they were bickering like an old married couple.

“Something funny Potter?!” Stephanie yelled, her fiery temper showing itself and Harry
couldn’t blame her, she must be close to snapping after having to put up with Archades
for so long and then being called such a ridiculous name.
“Yes” Harry answered bluntly, halting Stephanie’s temper from rising as she looked at him
with a puzzled expression while Archie looked at him like he was the next coming of Merlin
himself.

“Oh my god, you got her to calm down and all you said was one word!” he gushed “That
was amazing; you have to teach me how to do that one day! She was all like ‘Something
funny Potter?’” he mimicked Stephanie’s voice very poorly as he enacted the scene that
had just transpired for them, Stephanie seemed to take offence to his acting skills “and
you were all like ‘Yes’ and it was all cool and stuff…”

Stephanie was grinning as Archie kept ranting on how cool he thought Harry was – he
was now commenting about his earrings – right at Harry, quite smugly, he thought, at the
fact that she had gotten Archie to stop talking to her. Harry glared at the seemingly
victorious girl before turning to Archie.

“Archades, did you know most girls like it if you can hold a deep and meaningful
conversation with them for hours on end?” Harry prompted, causing Stephanie’s grin to
change into a look of horror and Archades to look pensive.

“No, I didn’t know that…are you sure…?” he asked, and Stephanie got her grin back; it
seemed that Archie wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that trick – Harry wasn’t done though.

“You say I’m ‘cool’ right?”

“Well…yeah” Archie agreed.

“And because I’m cool, I would know how to impress girls, right?” Harry prompted.

Archie looked to Stephanie with a ‘thinking’ look on his face “He is pretty cool, so he must
know what he’s talking about” he agreed again.

“NO! Archie, he’s lying, don’t listen to him…” Stephanie tried, but it was all in vain.

“Would a cool person lie to you Archades?” Harry asked with an understanding and
sincere look on his face. Archie just crunched his nose and eyes up as he scrutinized
Harry before shaking his head.

“No, a cool person wouldn’t do that…”

“So talk to her, I bet she really likes you but is hiding her feelings from you because she’s
just embarrassed” he said with a smug being sent right back to Stephanie who had gone
from being smug a moment ago to looking at him with horror and betrayal. Harry 1,
Stephanie 0. Archie on the other hand, seemed to think Christmas had come early.

“Iknew you always loved me my Stephy-bear” Archie swooned as he wrapped Stephanie

up in a tight hug, who was still looking at Harry with shock. As Archie went to lean in and
claim his prize, that being his fair lady’s lips, Stephanie immediately snapped out of her
stupor and kneed Archie in the groin.

“She wants to take it slow Archades, you can’t just throw yourself at her like that” Harry
scolded the boy as he grunted from the floor, indicating that he heard. Stephanie
however had that same murderous look in her eyes that she reserves for Archades
burning right into Harry’s skull…
…Fortunately, or unfortunately for the two, they were interrupted when two red headed
boys barrelled into the compartment, closed the door behind them and hid below the
window as not to be seen.

“Brother of mine, I think that girl is crazy…”

“I am going to have to agree with you Gred; I don’t think she would prank her ever again
if we want to keep out bits…”

“Too right, old chap”

Harry, Stephanie and the recently recovered Archades looked on in confusion as two
red headed twins their age seemed to be conversing with each other without any special
regard to who else was in the compartment with them.

“What should we do next do you think Feorge?”

“We could steal all the chocolate frogs and let them loose on the train…”

“Or we could throw dung bombs in the toilets…”

“Or we could magically tie Charlie’s show laces together…”

“Oh, that is just devious brother of mine”

“Why thank you old chap”

Harry, Stephanie and Archades were watching the exchange between the two boys like a
tennis match. Before they were about to leave their compartment as quickly as they
barged in, they turned around revealing pale skin and freckled faces – they seemed to be
identical twins.

“Thanks for not snitching us out, I’m Fred…”

“…and I’m George Weasley” they introduced themselves with huge Archades like grins.

Immediately, as soon as they left Archie looked up to them and grinned “I like ‘em.”

Harry and Stephanie simultaneously rolled their eyes in annoyance before going back to
what they were doing previously – Harry looked out the now dark window, Stephanie
ignoring Archie and Archie talking animatedly.

The Hogwarts express finally stopped at Hogsmeade, a village on the outskirts of

Hogwarts itself that, according to ‘Hogwarts: A History’, was visitable by third years and
above during the school year with parent permission.

Not half an hour ago, right before they arrived, a voice carried over the train telling them
to change into their school robes before they arrived…that had caused the situation
which eventually caused Archie to get a huge black eye. It was weird for a kid his age to
be such a pervert, and it seemed Stephanie didn’t appreciate it too much.

Hogsmeade station was so dark that even when the students got off the train, they
could barely see more then 10 feet in any direction. The cold Scotland air also assaulted
Harry’s senses as soon as he stopped off the train and leaving the warming charms of
the express behind.

Eventually, after the first years waited by themselves for a while as they watched the
older students walk off in the direction where some carriages were, a large bobbing light
started coming form the opposite direction.

“Firs’ years, Firs’ years, this way please” yelled a booming voice over the sea of first
years. The huge man had to be over ten feet tall with a huge bushy beard and beady
eyes while wearing a large haggard coat.

“Come on Firs’ years, my name’s Rubeus Hagrid, but everybody calls me Hagrid, follow me
up te the castle now, its cold out” he said, turning around and motioning for them to follow
him “try te keep up now, no fallin’ be’ind”

The path they were lead on was narrow, cold and even darker then back at the station. If
it weren’t for Stephanie standing directly in front of him, he was sure he’d probably walk
off the patch. The crunching of dry leaves could be heard after every step they took but
Harry could honestly see no trees of shrubbery, merely blackness, the back of
Stephanie’s head and Hagrid’s lantern.

Eventually, Hagrid stopped walking and turned a corner in the forest they seemed to be
in to reveal the most beautiful sight Harry had ever seen. They currently stood before a
huge black lake that seemed perfectly silent and still, on the other side of the lake
however was a huge cliff with a large castle with many tower sand torrents illuminated
from within letting the windows glitter like stars. The night sky above the castle with the
half full moon gazing down at it bathed it in an ethereal light which made everything look
surreal and incredibly…magical. Harry now realized why they took first years this way
instead of with the rest.

“All righ’ everyone, four to a boat, no funny business ya hear?” the huge man warned with
his thick accent indicating to the dozens of wooden boats lined up at the lake’s shore.

Archie, Stephanie, Harry and another handsome looking boy with light brown hair and
rosy cheeks boarded the boat closest to them and jumped slightly in surprise as the boat
took off on its own when they were all safely on. The boy that boarded with them,
according to Archie’s conversation with him, was named Cedric Diggory and he was just
as nervous as apparently Archie was about going to Hogwarts too.

Harry watched with amazement as huge tentacles broke the surface of the lake and
waved about in the air amidst the shocked gasps and frightened shrieks as if welcoming
them to the school.

“Tha’s just Betsy the Giant Squid, she won’t ‘urt you unless you ‘urt her first – wonderful
beast she is” he commented, sounding almost wistful to Harry’s amusement. He idly
wondered if the two should get a room before shivering at the disgusting mental picture
that thought provided.

They eventually reached the cliff side that the castle was residing on revealing a dimly lit
cave going into the cliff. The quartet on the boat had to duck their heads slightly so they
wouldn’t bonk their heads it was that low, but not painfully so. The boats all docked within
the cave by a sturdy looking pier that was no doubt being held up and strong by some
sort of magic so it wouldn’t wear away and collapse.

Hagrid then led them up a large flight of stairs that eventually lead out to a large grassy
clearing. Across the clearing, merely a few hundred feet from them seemed to be the
front gates of Hogwarts and up close, she looked even more imposing and magical.

Hagrid led them across the gassy clearing to the large wooden door and knocked three
times with his huge hand so that someone would open up. Eventually, a stoic looking
black haired witch opened the door for Hagrid and looked at them coolly.

“Here’s the firs’ years Professor McGonagall ma’am” presented Hagrid proudly to which
the woman responded with a small smile and nod in thanks.

“Children, welcome to Hogwarts”

Chapter: 3
Chapter 04: Sorting and Settling in

Harry, Stephanie, Archie and Cedric all stood in a small room within Hogwarts waiting to be
called into the great hall so they could be sorted. McGonagall had all informed the
uninformed about the house system which pretty much is what Harry already knew along
with the fact that any actions deemed worthy of reward would earn points for their
house and the opposite for actions deemed worthy of punishment. At the end of each
year, the points are tallies and a House Cup is awarded to the House that has obtained
the most points.

Harry and probably most of the other first years were also able to see their very first
ghost as the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron, floated into the room they were waiting
in and just glared at them all for a while silently with slightly intimidating eyes. The blood
stains on his ghostly white outfit were commented to ‘probably’ be apple sauce by some
naïve girl waiting with them in the room.

“What do you think they’ll have us do to get sorted?” asked a nervous Archie, more to
Cedric and Stephanie because Harry hadn’t seemed like the talking type since they’d met.

“How in the name of Merlin’s balls am I supposed to know?” countered a grumpy

Stephanie, she didn’t like being made to wait.

“It is unbecoming of a lady to use such language Stephanie” Harry piped in, for the first
time in their conversation; Archie, expecting his long friend to blow up at the somewhat
sexist dig at her, gaped incredulously when she merely blushed while looking away from
him and murmured an apology.

Cedric seemed to find the scene amusing as he just offered a chuckle “I asked my father
before we boarded the Hogwarts express about how we get sorted, he said that it’s a
secret and that nobody going to Hogwarts for their first time should know how…”

Harry nodded dismissively, still leaning against the wall and looking off into space. The
other three just assumed he wasn’t really paying attention, but in truth, to pass the time,
Harry was practising clearing his mind for his Occlumency lessons to pass the time.

Archie frowned in thought “What if we have to fight a dragon? Yeah, I bet that’s it…and
depending on how we go about it, they decide on what house we belong to…if we defeat it
in fair combat, we go into Gryffindor, if we outwit it, we go into Ravenclaw, if we befriend
it, we go into Hufflepuff and if we use our cunning to strike it down from the shadows, we
go to Slytherin!” Archie exclaimed, thinking he was the most brilliant man in the world for
deducing such a cunning theory.

Some of the other first years who overheard his theory were looking pale and more
frightened then ever at his theory while Stephanie was glaring daggers at him and Cedric
trying to suppress a laugh.

“You are the biggest moron if have ever had the displeasure of meeting!” shrieked
Stephanie “he has no idea what he’s talking about, they won’t make us fight a dragon”
Stephanie said to the others in hearing range, trying to calm them down somewhat.
“You have a better idea then?!” Archie challenged, his pride hurt at being shot down so easily.

“Yes” Stephanie provided “They assess our personalities with some magical object and
judging by the assessment, they place us into a house that would suit us best” she
offered and Harry had to admit, as he overheard, that it seemed like a well thought out
and reasonable guess…maybe too well thought out and reasonable. Harry looked her
directly in the eyes after she was done and noticed with satisfaction that she looked a
little nervous and embarrassed under his gaze. He found it funny.

“As if it would be that simple Stephanie” Archie countered, looking as pompous as you
would expect a pureblood politician would be “I still say my theory is better.”

“Well, that’s why you’re a moron” she countered eloquently before looking at Harry and
blushing again in embarrassment causing Harry to smirk again amidst her apologies.

Cedric looked between the two with a puzzled expression “You two fight like an old
married couple…”

Harry had to stiffly a snort of amusement when his statement got an immediate reaction.

“Really?” asked the now dreamy and love struck Archie with hearts in his eyes “You really
mean it? See Stephy-wephy, we were meant to be together!” he cooed, lunging at her to
engulf her in a hug…

…which she promptly sidestepped, allowing Archie to fly head first into the large brimstone
brick looking wall. Harry winced in sympathy; he knew how much that could hurt.

Cedric chuckled merrily when Stephanie just glared at the prone form of Archie on the floor
“Will you stop with the stupid names and trying to molest me every three minutes?!” she
kicked the down boy in the ribs for good measure.

Miraculously though, Archie was up without a visible wound on his person “Molest my
beautiful Stephy-princess?!” he hissed in rage “Who dare would do such a thing to one so
pure, so beautiful, so infallible, so…so…Stephy-poo!”

Stephanie flushed in embarrassment when Archie’s tirade got the attention of more then
a few of the people around them as she tried and failed to hide her presence behind
Harry and Cedric with a desperate plea to hide her.

Harry and Cedric momentarily stopped what they were doing when they noticed Archie
accosting a random boy near them.

“Were you the one trying to molest my Stephy-bear? Because if you were, I’m going to
shove a wand so far up your…”

“Mister Montague!”

Every first year’s attention was sent to the now open door when Professor McGonagall
was standing in front of and glaring at the boy who had the scruff of another first year’s
shirt in his hands.

“What is it you think you’re doing? I’d take points away from your house if you were
sorted already!”
“He was trying to mo…”

“It was a misunderstanding on Archades’s part” Harry interrupted before he could finish
the sentence “something about Archades’s feeling someone touch his behind, don’t try
and understand him professor, I find it only to bring on a headache” he offered, trying to
save the boy from saying something he would regret.

Seemingly deflating, McGonagall glared one last time at Archades who let go of the boy
and chuckled nervously with a quick apology.

“If you would all follow me into the great hall for your sorting” she said “you will wait at
the back of the hall until your name is called so we can have you sit on the stool and place
the sorting hat on your head” she offered as Harry watched the lack of surprise on
Stephanie’s face with amusement.

As they were walking into the hall, Harry grabbed Stephanie by her elbow to slow her
down “Who told you about how we get sorted Stephanie?” he asked with an amused smirk
as he watched her avert her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she mumbled under her breath nervously as
Harry watched her try to deny it with amusement.

They both entered the great hall behind the rest of the pack, a little surprised that the
ever clingy Archie hadn’t found and re-stitched himself to Stephanie’s side.

The great hall as massive with a ceiling charmed to show the night sky instead of a painted
ceiling. There were four long tables placed vertically along the hall with a large and
elevated horizontally placed table that the teachers were sitting on looking down at the
first years at the opposite end of the hall. The other four tabled seemed littered in seas
of green, yellow, red and blue showing clearly that each house sat separately at one of
the four tables. The hall itself was illuminated by several lit candles spelled to float
independently that all shone their light onto the students and teachers below like stars in
the night sky.

Harry finished his observations and looked to the other first years, who, seemed to all be
in shock and awe by the hall and its decorations. Looking up at the head table, Harry
noticed several recognizable figures; one of those was the giant of a man Hagrid that had
picked them up from the train station at Hogsmeade. Another recognizable figure was the
very short elderly wizard recognizable from a lot of his Charms books as Filius Flitwick.
The man was somewhat of an idle for him, being a former duelling champion and one of
the world’s most renown charms masters. However, probably one of the most
recognizable figures seated at the head table looking down upon everyone in the hall
from the headmaster’s chair was Albus Dumbledore; the man looked to be the very
picture of what one would expect Merlin to look like with long silver hair with a matching
silver bear. He also seemed to favour bright and eccentric clothing, especially if the light
blue shiny silk robe covering his purple undergarments was anything to go by.

Professor McGonagall walked through another door into the great hall holding an old
looking brown wizards hat and a rickety looking stool, both of which were placed at the
head of the hall – the hat on the stool – before she pulled out a rolled up scroll form her sleeve.

Harry was slightly surprised when there was a slight coughing noise coming form the hat, as
if it were clearing its throat, before the creases in the material contorted to that of a face
of sorts. Harry learned to take everything in the Wizarding world with a grain of salt, it
was much easier that way so he wouldn’t constantly be getting surprised by things other
people would deem normal, but even a singing hat was fairly weird for the Wizarding world.

Oh you may not think me pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm theHogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong inGryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

Everyone in the hall applauded politely at the conclusion of the song. Harry looked over
to Stephanie who was standing beside him with a raised eyebrow, his question clearly on
his face. A little guilty, Stephanie gave a small smile before slipping her face back under a
mask of neutrality.

“My father told me that the sorting hat looks through our minds to determine which of the
four house’s qualities we mostly possess and sorts us into that house…also that hat
comes up with a new song every year at the opening feast” she explained, quietly so
only the two of them could hear.

Harry nodded dismissively, that information didn’t really interest him, what interested
him more was the information that the Zabini lord was in a position to release such secrets
that he knew were under secrecy oaths without a worry in the world for any sort of
reprimanding that he may receive.
“Asmoedius, Gareth” called out McGonagall from the now unrolled sheet of parchment. A
boy with light brown hair and grey eyes scurried forward as everyone in the hall had his
eyes set on him. McGonagall with a thin lipped smile motioned him towards the chair
where he sat down and placed the overly large hat on his head, allowing it to engulf his
head whole. There were several moments of silence before the hat spoke up for the hall
to hear.

“Hufflepuff!” the table that was the second from the right erupted with cheers as the
boy’s robes magically changed to match the Hufflepuff colours of black and yellow. The
boy scurried over to the table and took a seat with his fellow housemates while
McGonagall called forth the next person.

“Diggory, Cedric” McGonagall eventually called, catching Harry’s attention, the boy
seemed alright and he seemed to have already made friends with Archades and
Stephanie, so he listened in.

“Hufflepuff!” Cedric took the hat off and blushed in embarrassment when the hall cheered
for him before moving over to his table and sitting beside Gary, the first boy sorted.

Harry zoned out as he looked around the hall some more, taking in the details of the still
foreign room. Just as he was wondering how hungry he was, another familiar name was
called out.

“Montague, Archades” with large, proud steps, Archie strode up to the chair and put the
hat on his head, his cheesy grin still in place and could be seen from under the rim of the
hat. Harry watched the boy’s facial expressions intently when he noticed the grin slip only
to be replaced by his lips thinning, a look that almost looked out of place on the boy’s
features. After a long while, the longest yet out of all the students, the hat made its decision.

“Ravenclaw!” Stephanie looked particularly dumbstruck, Ravenclaw, the house of the

witty and intelligent was the house her buffoon of a friend was sorted into? Maybe the
hat was on drugs…

“Potter, Harry” McGonagall called out as Harry walked down the isle between the two
tables and took his seat on the stool before McGonagall placed the sorting hat on his head.

Hmm, a good mind, very good; and you seem to be trying to block me out with
Occlumency…I’m afraid that won’t work.

Harry was shocked to hear a voice inside his head, and almost on instinct, he emptied his
mind of all thoughts just as he was taught to do, though the hat seemed to still be able to
read him.

‘What do you mean it won’t work? You can actually read my mind?’ Harry asked with
shock, he didn’t think a mind could actually be read.

You may have the rudimentary skills of Occlumency down, Mr. Potter, but the more
advanced practitioners of Occlumency can halt any foreign influence affecting the body
or completely block someone from entering and controlling their minds, it is a very
obscure and useful art, but we aren’t here to discuss Occlumency, we’re here to get you
sorted…

Harry still kept his mind stubbornly clear, not wanting to influence the hat in any way with
his stray thoughts.
A noble goal you have, to save one’s mother...you hold much guild for her current
condition and seek to remedy that by becoming strong enough to cure her…very
ambitious of you…very Slytherin…

Hmm…Slytherin would do you well, you would be able to become great, you know… the
hat continued to prompt, hoping to get a reaction from Harry.

However…you seem to value knowledge above all else and why your goals may be
ambitious, you do not seek power for powers sake…you are also very intelligent and
possess a sharp mind…and tongue…very Ravenclaw of you…where to sort you I wonder?

Harry remained silent as the hat sifted through his memories Have you no preference, no
say in this matter?

‘I’m just here to learn, that is all’ Harry replied, finally giving the hat something to feed off of.

A sad day it is that I meet a child who is more interested in his goals then making friends
and having fun, like a child should…

Harry was getting mad, how dare this hat presume to know anything about him‘I have no
right to lead a ‘Happy’ life when the reason for my well being is currently lying in a Hospital
bed indefinitely because of me!’ he all but hissed, and he felt the hat leaving his mind,
seemingly having made its decision.

It is still sad, Mr. Potter, but seeing as you still, despite your personality or beliefs, hold
knowledge and intelligence in the highest regard, better be…

“Ravenclaw!” the hat called to the hall, getting an applause and sighs of relief from most
of the hall, Harry’s sorting had taken the longest by far and people were extremely
hungry. Harry looked down to his robes that still kept their black colour mainly but also
gained the blue and bronze colours of Ravenclaw as well as the crest with the eagle on
his breast. Taking his seat by his fellow housemates who welcomed him, Harry tuned out
Archades who was now talking to him animatedly while people were still getting sorted.

Harry idly heard a few names that he recognized getting sorted after his own; Weasley,
Pucey and Rookwood being some examples, but what really caught his attention, or
rather, what Archades made him pay attention to was the last student to be sorted.

“Zabini, Stephanie”

Harry watched with amusement as Archades had a confident grin on his face “She’ll
definitely be a Raven” the boy whispered in his ear “true love conquers all, there is no
way that she’ll be in any other…”

“Slytherin!”

“NO!”

Harry wanted to laugh, he really did, if not for the fact that the poor boy looked so
crushed and Stephanie looked so relieved. However, Archades continued to prove how
amusing he was when his despair quickly turned into anger.

“That piece of shit hat planned this!” he said, fuming while sending a withering glare at
the old and scrubby looking hat “he told me I would find true love with my Stephy-poo if I
went into Ravenclaw!”

Harry shrugged “Maybe you still will, perhaps being in this house will make you mature?”
Harry ventured a guess, not wanting to crush the boy’s hopes, regardless of how funny
it would be.

“I’m plenty mature!” Archie protested, which fell on deaf ears as Harry had stopped
listening to him when the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, rose from his seat.

“Welcome students – new and old - to another year of learning magic at Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry” he greeted amidst the silence of the hall “Before we begin
with the feast…” he trailed off amidst the groans of protests from hungry students “a few
quick announcements are in order. As you know, Mrs. Thicknesse can no longer be your
Defence professor due to wanting to seek a career within the ministry of magic, so your
new Defence against the Dark Arts professor will be Professor Robards, who has served
as an Auror for the ministry of magic for the past twenty years – please make him feel
welcome.”

There was a polite applause for the new professor who stood from his seat a few seats
down from Dumbledore. The man had the look of a battle hardened warrior who had
survived through a war with his greying hair and muscular features.

“As always, the Forbidden forest is just that; Forbidden, any students caught out of
bounds will be given an instant detention with our resident caretaker, Mr. Filch” he
commented, motioning to a scraggy and cruel looking man with long dirty hair and a grey
cat by his side.

“Aside from that, I don’t wish to hold you from your meals much longer, so enjoy!” he
announced, and with a clap, the tables were instantly filled with a banquet of food, easily
more then every student could eat, appearing before them. The food ranged from
chicken, corn, bread, soups, steak, mashed potatoes, peas, all sorts of vegetables and
pitches of Pumpkin juice. The sight of all the still steaming dishes almost made Harry drool
in delight; he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until just then.

Harry piled his plate for as much food as he thought he could eat and dug in while looking
around at the other first years that had been placed into Ravenclaw along with him. One
of them was a black haired boy by the name of Roger Davis who was currently chatting
to one of the first year girls, Rachel Pennysworth, a rather bubbly yet intelligent looking
blonde haired girl. Beside the two sat a shy girl who seemed to be just listening in on
other’s conversations, he remembered her to be Rhona Simmonds, a girl with light brown
hair and rosy cheeks. Beside Archades were two other boys Harry couldn’t remember
the names of as well as Anthony Silvers, who boasted about preferring the name ‘Tony’.

Harry shrugged and continued to eat, feeling oddly amused with Archades’s current mood
as he moped while eating his meal. Harry was just pleased that no one sought to start a
conversation with him as they were much too busy chatting amongst themselves; he
just wanted to eat dinner in peace.

All too soon, the tables were cleared of all food and any golden cutlery that was left over,
signifying the end of the feast, Dumbledore stood once again, to address the entire hall.

“I’m sure you all enjoyed that meal, now if you will, follow your house prefects back to
your house common rooms – first years should pay attention to where you’re going to
avoid getting lost in the future, this castle has a habit of doing that to people” he
exclaimed with a twinkle in his eye “Good evening.”

Immediately, the students filed out of the hall, Archades with one last look towards ‘his
love’ before they were lead away to the western wing of the castle by the fifth year
Ravenclaw prefects. On their way, they passed numerous moving portraits that waved
to them politely and left some remarks as they passed – one rather bubbly portrait of a
girl and her family winked and giggled at him as he passed, commenting on how cute he
was, despite his embarrassment as it just seemed to draw attention to him.

Eventually, they arrived at Ravenclaw tower, which Harry noticed was conveniently close
to the library, where they stopped in front of a door with no keyhole or handle, merely a
bronze eagle door knocker that seemed to be alive.

“Before you gain entrance, first you must answer me this…” before the eagle door
knocker continued, the prefect explained.

“Ravenclaw is a house that values intelligence, creativity, wisdom and wit, to gain entry
into your common room you will need to answer a riddle or intellectual question, if you
cannot answer, you will not gain entry” explained the boy before the girl spoke up.

“Don’t worry, you get used to it” she said with a smile “if you don’t get it, ask someone
else to help you do it, or even Professor Flitwick, our head of house, if you can’t find
someone – his office is just down the hall.

The door knocker then felt it was time to pose its question “What is so fragile that when
you speak its name you break it?” the bronze eagle knocker asked. Both of the fifth year
prefects seemed to know the answer but they turned to the first years, expecting an answer.

“You guys will need to be answering these questions too, if you want to gain entry into
your common room, does anybody know?”

There was silence amongst the first years - who looked to be in deep contemplation -
taking this as a ‘right of passage’ kind of test to prove themselves to the older members of
their house. Harry, who was just tired and wanted some sleep rolled his eyes and spoke up.

“The answer is silence” he answered from the back of the group. Instantly, the students
all turned to look at him with a questioning look in their eyes, but the fifth years just
smiled brightly at him.

“You may enter” the door knocker stated before swinging open and allowing them entrance.

Harry pushed passed his first year peers who were still looking at him and got his first
glimpse of the Ravenclaw common room. The room could be best described as an "airy"
room with many arched windows overlooking the surrounding mountains, all hung with
heavy bronze and blue curtains, matching their house colours. The ceiling is domed and
painted blue with twinkling stars on it. The floor is also covered by midnight-blue carpet,
completing the ‘Ravenclaw’ look about the place. The room was filled with fat and cushy
armchairs that looked quite comfortable to just sit at and read a book. The room also
seemed to be circular in shape, showing that it was indeed on the inside of the
Ravenclaw tower while there were several stairs leading up to the student dorms. There
is a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw beside the entrance to the dorm, one of the Hogwarts
four founder and the founder of the Ravenclaw house.
“Wow…” was all Harry could say, in his opinion, the room was perfect. There was even a
small library if you wanted a quick read and didn’t want to go to the library.

“Wow indeed” the fifth year prefect said from beside him with a grin.

“The first year dorms are up those stairs, girl on the left, boys on the right” he said,
motioning to the stairs on the other side of the room “the second, third, fourth, fifth,
sixth and seventh are further up into the corridors and dorms respectively” the prefect
said with a smile.

“Try not to disturb the older students by making noise please” she said with a smile
“especially the fifth and seventh year students who are studying for their OWLs and
NEWTs respectively, it is a very important year for them. If you want to make noise and
have fun, you can come down to the common room if no one is studying here or someplace
else in the castle” she explained with a smile.

“Also, as Ravenclaw students, we pride ourselves on being the most intelligent and
studious of all the other houses at Hogwarts” the prefect said with pride “so, once a
week, there is a mandatory study group for all first through fourth year students held by
fifth year students, it helps you learn and helps the fifth years revise for their OWL
exams. Later on in your life at Hogwarts, there will be similar mandatory study sessions for
fifth and sixth years to be held by seventh years for the same reason” the prefect
explained. Every first year there nodded in understanding.

“Your study sessions will be held on Wednesday nights before your Astronomy classes, if
for some reason, you can’t make it, please inform a prefect or Professor Flitwick, so we
know you aren’t slacking.”

“Do any of you have any questions?” asked the male prefect, Harry liked the two and
understood why they made the prefect position. They seemed to be very nice and
approachable.

“Err…will we get in trouble if we um…aren’t as smart as you expect us to be…?” asked a

nervous first year girl.

The prefect smiled and shook his head “You are in here for a reason, which means you
must be intelligent, witty, creative, or have a thirst for knowledge. No one expects you
to ace everything, but it is expected that you want to learn and try your hardest with
your studies, difficult or not” that answer seemed to placate the nervous girl as she smile shyly.

“When will we get our class timetables?” asked Harry, wanting to know what schedule
he’ll have to work around so he can begin his education.

“You’ll receive them during breakfast on Monday morning, so be sure to be bright and
early so you can come back here and collect the necessary materials you’ll need for your
classes, whatever they may be” Harry nodded in satisfaction. It was Saturday now, so
that meant they had tomorrow off, he figured he could use the time to explore the castle.

Seeing as there were no more questions, the prefects lead them to their dorm rooms, as
they split up to head to the different gender rooms. Apparently, no boy could enter the
girls rooms but the girls could enter the boys, that thought frightened Harry slightly,
hadn’t these incompetent wizards heard of female perverts?! Obviously, they’ve never
had fan girls, he thought with a shiver as he remembered the times he showered after
football practise and the number of times the younger girls tried to peep on him.
Their dorm room was simple and oddly enough, had the perfect number of beds for the
amount of first year Ravenclaw boy students. Each bed had a canopy that allowed them
to drape their own blue curtain around the bed for privacy as well as large and
comfortable blue and bronze pillows and blankets. There was also two large windows
showing them a beautiful view of the surrounding snowy mountains and, much to Harry’s
delight, a desk beside each of the beds with a small bookshelf mounted on the wall above
each desk. As every boy claimed a bed as their own, Harry took the one closest to one of
the windows and took out a small matchbox sized item from his chest pocket.

Archie took his large school trunk from the middle of the room and hauled it over to the
bed next to Harry’s.

“Hey Harry, how come your trunk isn’t with the rest of ours?” asked the curious boy, not
loud enough to get the other’s attention though. Harry merely showed him the matchbox
sized trunk in the palm of his hand before placing it at the foot of his bed and whipping
out his wand. Archades was so entranced by the ‘cool’ looking wand that he almost missed
the bit of magic that Harry performed.

“Engorgio” he muttered, under his breath. Archie watched with wide eyes as the small
matchbox sized trunk increased in size until it revealed a dark brown, slightly old looking
school trunk.

“That was awesome!” cheered Archie, as he started to bug Harry about showing him that spell.

“Shut up” Harry pleaded with annoyance “it’s in the standard book of spells grade 4, it
isn’t that hard to do, read up on it” he said, his voice showing how tired he was and how
much he wanted to just go to sleep.

Archie nodded reluctantly, promising himself that he would see if that book was in the
library, or if he could bug a fourth year to show him, after all, he could be very persuasive.

“Night Harry, you wanna go look around the castle tomorrow?”

Harry nodded “Sure, I figured you wanted to find Stephanie first, no?” Harry watched
with amusement as Archades became depressed again.

Harry went to sleep, ignoring the chatting of his housemates wondering what tomorrow
would bring.

Harry awoke early the next morning as the sun’s rays peeked over the mountain and
shone in his face through the window of the first year boy’s dorms. Rubbing the sleep out
of his eyes, he looked around for his glasses and used them to see the time, it was still
only six in the morning and his roommates were still asleep. Deciding to get an early start
to the day, Harry grabbed a pair of jeans, shirt, jumper and a fresh pair of underwear
and headed into the showers to get ready for the day.

Coming out of the shower room, he was surprised to see that he had spent an hour
getting ready; he figured he must have spent longer then he thought practising clearing
his mind. Grabbing a scarf after noticing how cold it looked outside, Harry headed down to
the great hall to eat his breakfast, trying to remember the way to get there from his trop
to his common room yesterday. One the way, he passed a poltergeist that tried to
ambush him with dung bombs which he easily avoided, years spent growing up with
Remus gave him quite the ‘prank’ sense.
“Who are you?” Harry asked, curiously, eyeing the fuming poltergeist floating before him.

“I am Peeves the Poltergeist, Potty Potter and you may have won this round, but I will
get you next time!” it shrieked as it floated around the corner and away at high speeds.

Finally smelling the effects of the Dung bombs hitting the floor, Harry sped away, not
wanting to have the smell stick to him. Taking out his wand, he aimed it at himself before
using a charm that Remus had taught him before coming, a rather simple one that
removes foul and foreign odours from the body, ‘a good one for a prankster to know’, he
had said.

“Refovio”

Instantly, he felt a blanket of magic cover the surface of his body head to toe, it felt like
he was being softly tickled, before the sensation stopped. Raising his arm cautiously to
take a whiff, he smelt himself to notice that he smelt like…nothing.

Harry frowned before realizing something ‘It must remove all good and bad foreign
fragrances from the body.’

Shrugging, thinking that it was better then smelling bad, he continued on his way to the
great hall, passing several students conversing in the hallways on the way of different
years and houses. He found though, that he didn’t pass very many Slytherins. He figured
that maybe because their common room was located in the Dungeons, they may just stick
to their own area.

Entering the great hall, he looked around to see the Ravenclaw table being the most full,
yet none of the first years, boys or girls, seemed to be up yet. Scanning the room some
more, his eyes landed on Stephanie, who was also sitting by herself at the Slytherin
table and eating her breakfast.

Shrugging mentally, Harry moved over to sit beside her and eat breakfast. Many of the
students, especially the Slytherins were eyeing him carefully, he really couldn’t blame
them; he doubted people chose to sit at the Slytherin tables very often.

“Good morning Stephanie” he greeted, making the girl turn her head sharply to him before
calming down.

“Morning Harry, what are you doing over here?” she asked her face neutral as she ate
her jammed toast that was currently sitting on her plate. Harry followed her example and
took an apple to start his breakfast.

“No one from Ravenclaw is awake yet, you’re the only person I recognized in the hall” he
said with a shrug, as he took another bite of the apple in his hand, idly thinking that it
was probably the best apple he had ever tasted – a perfect combination of crunchy and juicy.

“I see, so, how do you find your house?” she asked, trying to start up some
conversation. Harry shrugged again as he continued to eat his apple, he had just
noticed how many stares he was getting by sitting at this table so he swivelled around in
his stool and leaned against the table while still sitting next to Stephanie.

“The common room is nice, you can imagine it would be any studious person’s wet dream,
lots of books and comfy couches and what not…” he trailed off.
“What’s a ‘wet dream’?” she asked with confusion. Harry tried to hide his amusement
when several of the older boys close by heard the question and choked on their breakfast.

“Don’t worry Stephanie, you’ll learn when you’re older” he answered in a patronizing way
which Stephanie didn’t like at all, she narrowed her eyes at him dangerously which didn’t
faze Harry at all.

“You really want to know?” he asked and she nodded, not liking that he knew something
that she didn’t.

“I think it better you ask one of the older boys listening in on our conversation, they’d be
better able to explain it then I” he said, curious to how this would turn out. She nodded
and went over to a fifth year boy; from the badge on his robes he figured he was a
prefect. Stephanie seemed to ask her question and from Harry’s position, he could see
the confusion on the boy’s face before it turned into a grin. The prefect leaned in and
whispered his answer into Stephanie’s ear and from her reaction, one which caused her
face to turn scarlet, Harry mused that she got what she wanted – especially if her
stomping on his foot and slapping him across the face was any indication of the fact.

Stephanie sat down beside him, her face still crimson from a mixture of embarrassment
and anger, Harry couldn’t tell which she was feeling more, trying to avoid Harry’s gaze.

“I suppose you satisfied your curiosity Ms. Zabini?” he asked, amusement laced in the
question. Stephanie just turned to him and gave him the evil eye, which Harry just found
more amusing.

“I would thank you not to use such vulgar language in my presence again” she said with
finality, but Harry could see the topic still embarrassed her so he just dropped it.

“How do you like your common room?” he asked, curious to how the Slytherins lived in
the dungeons.

Stephanie just shivered in disgust before answering “It’s a dungeon” she answered, as if
it answered everything “I mean, I knew the common room was in the dungeons, but all the
walls are made of thick black stone with torches on the walls to give light, its horrid” she
said “I guess I’m jealous of Archie and you in that respect.”

Harry nodded, thinking he wouldn’t like literally living in a dungeon either “We also are
required to attend weekly study sessions with the older students to enhance our
learning, you guys got anything like that?”

Stephanie shrugged, seemingly not surprised by his little fact “Not really, Professor
Snape, our head of house, came into the common rooms last night after the feast and
explained to us the ‘rules’ of Slytherin house, which we aren’t supposed to tell anyone
about by the way.”

Harry just nodded; he didn’t really care to be honest “My uncle told me about Slytherins…
I’d be careful if I were you” he warned, noticing with interest how she seemed to get
defensive. Harry also idly wondered about how easily the title of uncle came to Remus
when he talked to others about him, he didn’t really want to call him his ‘guardian’.

“What did he tell you? That we’re all evil or something? Why am I not surprised that the
heir to the ancient and noble house of Potter would have such narrow minded…” she
stopped when Harry lightly cuffed her on the back of the head, stopping her rant and
making her glare at Harry with a look that would kill.

“Will you shut up? What I was going to say was that Slytherin students are known to
display a high level of Machiavellianism, so you should be wary of who you befriend in
that house” he explained, however, seeing her look of confusion, he assessed his
statement and realized where he went wrong “basically, a lot of Slytherins like to
deceive and manipulate others for their own personal gain, so watch who you befriend
and what you suddenly owe people” he warned, getting her to raise her eyebrow in confusion.

“Thank you for the warning, not to be rude, but why do you care?” she asked, genuinely
curious.

Harry just shrugged again in response before grinning “I don’t, but if something
happened to you Archades would be quite displeased I’d imagine, and seeing as we
share a dorm, I’d rather have him not moping and carrying on; you know, he made quite
the commotion when ‘that piece of shit hat’ put you in Slytherin” he finished, changing the
topic suddenly.

“I’d imagine he would” she said, smirking “he can be so clingy sometimes, but he isn’t that
much of a bad guy, just annoying.”

“You two have a history?” he asked, suddenly curious.

“You could say that, but it’s not my story to tell. Suffice to say that we know each other
pretty well, he’s been living with my family since a young age” she didn’t know it, but
Stephanie had told him quite a lot by just saying what she did.

Harry knew of the name Montague, it was the name of an old pureblood family he had
read about, for him to be living with the Zabinis a well known pureblood family in their own
right, either something happened to his parents, or his parents disowned him and the
Zabinis adopted him.

Harry just filed that information away for a later date “he keeps professing his eternal
love for you, he seems quite determined” he said, enjoying how it embarrassed the girl.

“He pretty much yaps on about it to anyone who will listen” she said, obviously
uncomfortable “he can be a bit overprotective and imposing at times…but he can be sweet
in his own retarded way, not that I like him or anything” she said, straightening her back
hiding behind her mask of neutrality.

Harry nodded, agreeing “Yeah, he definitely is a little retarded” they both shared a
chuckle at that.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang coming from the door, both Harry and Stephanie looked
up to see Archades strolling into the great hall whistling merrily. The boy stopped and
scanned the hall, Harry wasn’t sure whether he was looking for him or Stephanie, but
apparently it didn’t matter because he spotted them both and with a grin, he practically
skipped over to them and plopped down next to Stephanie.

“How was your night my precious Stephy-bear?” asked Archie with a big smile, ignoring the
fact that Stephanie was trying to sink into the table to avoid the looks of amusement she
was getting from her peers.
“Look, Archie, I know you don’t listen to me when I tell you not to call me those names, but
this time I’m serious…” she said as she looked towards her house mates who were
mocking her before turning back to him “people in Slytherin aren’t like people in other
houses, they assess everyone and look for weaknesses to exploit, what you’re doing
right now could very much make me an outcast…so can you please stop?” she asked,
pleading her friend.

Archie sighed dramatically “Ok” he agreed, as if he was making a huge sacrifice “look what
I do for you Steph, its just a testament to our love!” he declared in a more subdued voice
so no one else could hear. Harry snorted in amusement when Stephanie kicked Archie in
the shin real good.

“When you guys are done with breakfast, you wanna go look around the castle?” asked
the boy, looking at Stephanie and Harry who both shrugged and agreed “awesome, we’ll
just wait for Ced to get here, I told him we’d go exploring together” he explained, looking
to his two new friends and waiting for confirmation. Stephanie nodded, signifying that
she was ok with it and Harry just shrugged, not caring either way.

After fifteen minutes spent watching Archie hovel down his food, Cedric arrived to eat
breakfast; when he was done, the four headed out of the great hall to explore the castle.

Harry had, surprisingly to the group, suggested they map out their different classrooms,
less they get lost tomorrow and not be able to find their way between each of them. So
after they found the Potions classroom in the dungeons, the Transfiguration classroom
near Gryffindor tower, the Charms classroom near the Ravenclaw tower and the Library,
the Defence Against the Dark Arts class on the seventh floor and the greenhouse just
outside on the grounds.

By the time they were done exploring, it was lunch time so the four of them headed back
to the great hall to eat lunch. Harry, however, stopped before the entered the door.

“I’ll take a raincheck on lunch, I’m just going to walk around for a bit” he said, and without
waiting for an answer, he left to his dorm. Harry had, to be honest, an urge to play with
his football, so after arriving back at his dorm, having to answer another riddle to gain
entrance, he removed the ball form his trunk and went out to the grounds.

Harry received many confused glances when people saw him walking around with a
football under his arm, but he just ignored them and headed out towards the large lake
outside the castle; he remembered seeing a nice clearing near there that would be fine
for what he wanted.

Arriving at the clearing, Harry tossed the ball to the ground and started dribbling
invisible opponents for a while before kicking the ball up into the air and juggling. He may
not be able to play football anymore, but that was no reason to let his skills go rusty by
stopping completely.

After almost an hour of messing around by himself, he heard applause from behind him.
Allowing the ball to drop, he saw Archie, Cedric and Stephanie standing there, the latter
with her hands on her hips.

“You know, if you were going to play football, you should have told us, I love playing”
Cedric said with a grin.

“How do you play?” asked Archades, while Stephanie just looked uninterested.
Cedric and Harry spent the rest of the afternoon explaining the rules and kicking the ball
around the grounds while Stephanie sat by a tree and tossed stones in the lake while
watching them play.
Chapter: 4
Chapter 05: Oh! Potions Master Snape!

Harry quietly followed Archades towards the Hogwarts grounds to where the first year
students would learn to fly a broomstick. Their first week of school had finally ended, but
instead of being able to do some independent study on this cold Saturday morning, they
were dragged out of their dorms to participate in flying practise.

Their first week of classes had been interesting, in Harry’s opinion, but not very exciting.
Luckily for him, he had the foresight to map out where all of his classrooms were before
classes began, unfortunately, a lot of his classmates didn’t share the same foresight and
wound up arriving late to class on more then one occasion and losing their respective
houses valuable points.

The castle itself didn’t really help matters in regards to students making their way around
the castle, what, with the school’s one hundred and forty-two staircases, doors that
weren’t really doors that would rather strike up a conversation with you then let you
pass, and the constant menace which was Peeves the poltergeist, who still hadn’t gotten
over the fact that he couldn’t get the jump on Harry.

Then there was the most miserable excuse for a human being on the planet, Argus Filch,
the Hogwarts caretaker and his demon cat Mrs. Norris, who patrolled the corridors
constantly just waiting like a predator for someone to make the slightest of errors so they
could leap on them and dish out their unholy justice. Harry was one of the unfortunate
students to get on his bad side immediately in their Hogwarts career when he had his
football confiscated by the lousy excuse of a caretaker for juggling it in one of the
courtyards to pass time during a free period – that was his only football too!

If the ghost, the poor architecture, or Filch himself weren’t enough to deal with, there
were also the lessons which almost bordered on downright boring for the black haired
youth. Harry had assumed that once he entered Hogwarts, he would be able to apply all
of the magical theory he had studies in his life to practise and get to do some spells, but
instead they were forced to stick to the basics, and for Harry, re-learn all the simple
theory Remus had drilled into his head long ago.

Some of the classes, like Astronomy, were fun for Harry for non-academic reasons where
they’d meet up in the astronomy tower Wednesday night at midnight to study the night,
learning the names of planets, stars and other galaxy related phenomena. What Harry
thought made the class so enjoyable was the absolutely stunning view the astronomy
tower gives the students with their magically enhanced telescopes of outer space,
unhindered by light or air pollution living near a city would provide.

Three times a week with the Gryffindors they would head out to the school’s greenhouses
to study Herbology with a dumpy little witch called Pomona Sprout - the head of
Hufflepuff house – who taught them all about magical plants and fungi and how one
would go about caring for and using them.

The one class, surprisingly enough, that Harry enjoyed the most was History of magic;
surprising because so many people would think otherwise about the class. The subject
was taught by a ghost by the name of Cuthbert Binns who had one day fallen asleep in
front of the staffroom fireplace and woken up the next morning to teach, leaving his
body behind. Unfortunately for the spectral professor, Harry didn’t much like the time he
spent droning on about several names and dates of important historical events, so
instead, he used the time in the class to sneak in his own books and have a quiet read.
Harry was just thankful that no one from his own house or the Gryffindors had spotted
him or they might just feel the need to stick their noses in his business and stop his free
study period.

One of the classes Harry had been looking forward to was Charms, taught by his head of
house and well known Duelling champion Filius Flitwick. Unfortunately, the tiny professor
who had to sit on a pile of books to look over his own desk had spent the first week of
classes going over the basic Levitation charm with the first years, a charm that Harry took
one try to master – he didn’t think it was that difficult. So, instead of listening to the
endless repetition of the incantation ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ and Stephanie constantly trying
to tutor Archades on how to perform the spell correctly, he would read ahead in the
coursework and quietly practised the rest of the charms they were set to learn in their
first year. When Professor Flitwick had asked why he wasn’t doing any of the work, he
had quietly responded by levitating his lesson’s handout sheet to the shocked professor
and continued with his independent study.

Transfiguration was amusing, but still lacked any of the fascinating new theory Harry
was expecting to learn while under the tutelage of the renowned Transfiguration
Mistress Minerva McGonagall. Harry’s first assessment of the professor as one not to be
crossed or annoyed turned out to be correct as she had given them a talking to as soon
as they entered the class.

“Transfiguration is a branch of magic that focuses more on finesse then power” she had
explained “it is a very dangerous branch of magic in the hands of a master and thus, one
of the most complex branches of magic, so I warn you now, anyone caught fooling
around in my class will not be welcome back in the future.”

She had ended her introduction by transfiguring her desk into a living pig that even gave
out a few startled squeals, something that definitely did pique Harry’s interest. While
Remus had been attempting to help him learn Transfiguration theory from his father’s
school books – someone who had been quite the Transfiguration expert – the man had
never been one to be very good at the obscure branch of magic so he had only bared
witness to the most simple of Transfiguration spells himself. Something like what
McGonagall could easily be useful in a duel, he surmised, as a distraction or a way to
attack if she had instead used her magic to turn her desk into, say, a rabid Rottweiler.

After returning her desk back to normal, she had them copy down from the board the
basic principals of Transfiguration theory, also known as ‘Norton’s Transfiguration Law of
Focus. The law was the basis for all Transfiguration based spell work, explaining how the
caster’s focus was directly related to one’s ability be able to perform the branch of Magic
– basically, the more easily you could focus, theoretically, the more easily one could
transfigure something into something else.

To practise, McGonagall had given them all a matchstick to attempt to transfigure into a
steel needle, the exercise would work on students being able to not only change the
shape but the basic composition of the stick. After performing an example of how it was
done, she had set them to work. Harry had taken a good five tries to get it done, his
first attempt only allowing the matchstick to change shape. He found, as he got used to
manipulating his magic to his will, that the more complicated his change from ‘Object A’ to
‘Object B’ was the more focus it required. Harry had continued to change the matchstick in
to a needle and vice-versa for the remainder of the lesson and had learned something
else about Transfiguration that he found interesting; the more times he performed the
same spell, the easier it became to do.

When McGonagall had seen him turning his match stick into a needle and needle into a
match stick repeatedly at the end of the lesson, her eyes widened slightly before offering
Harry a rare smile that looked foreign on the stern witch’s features; the attention served
to embarrass him slightly.

The one lesson during the week that served to baffle and yet amuse him the most was
definitely Potions with the Slytherin head of house, Professor Snape. During breakfast
that particular morning, when Archie had informed him – rather giddily – that they hey
had Potions in the dungeons first for the day, Harry had looked up to the Potion’s master
sitting at the head table.

At first, Snape seemed to be looking elsewhere but when their eyes met, the man seemed
to scowl viciously at him before Harry felt a tingling sensation in his mind. Recognizing it as
a Legilimency probe to peer at his surface thoughts, like Remus had done on him several
times, Harry held the gaze and quickly cleared his mind. The action served to surprise the
Potion’s master and anger him further at the same time.

Harry had just then realized that Professor Snape didn’t dislike him, he seemed to loathe him!

Later in the Potion’s classroom, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were waiting for their
professor to arrive, when suddenly the doors to the room burst open admitting a
scowling Professor Snape striding up to the front of his classroom and to his desk with his
black billowing robes flowing behind him.

The image of Professor Snape glaring down from his elevated position at his desk
surrounding by several bottled animal parts and other Potions ingredients in the cold
dark dungeons of Hogwarts served to intimidate several of the more timid first years;
Harry however, sat unfazed, ready to learn while Archie seemed to be squirming in his
chair beside him.

The odd thing was, Archie didn’t seem scared in the slightest, not even nervous.

Like every other professor, Snape went through the class registry, stopping briefly on
Harry’s name to comment on his presence.

“Ah yes, Harry Potter” he began, spitting out his surname as if it were a disease “a true
phenomenon that you would end up in the house of the intelligent, clearly the apple falls
far from the tree…” he finished snidely. Many of the first years looked on between the
two in confusion while Harry’s eyes merely narrowed slightly, not willing to take the bait ad
give this man a reason to punish him.

After finishing with the registry, Snape put it away before locking eyes with the rest of
the class. His eyes were as black as coal and held no emotion or warmth. Harry thought
that they reminded him of two dark tunnels. After several moments of silence, he began
to speak to them in a voice that was barely above a whisper but seemed to cut through
the silence of the room like a hot knife through butter.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art that is Potions brewing” he began,
his voice just screamed, despite its low tone, that if you interrupted him there wouldbe
pain “As there is very little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will believe that this
isn’t magic. I hardly expect for you to see the beauty in the softly simmering cauldrons
with their shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that seep through your veins
that can bewitch your mind or ensnare your senses…If you pay attention in my class, I
can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory or even stopper death – that is of course if
you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

There was silence met with his declaration. Most of the Hufflepuffs seemed to be quite
intimidated and self conscious after his ‘introduction’ while many of the Ravenclaws
seemed to be determined to prove they weren’t like the usual ‘dunderhead’. Archie, for
some reason, seemed to be acting weirdly to Snape’s presence but before Harry could
ponder on it more, Snape interrupted.

“Potter!” Snape barked “what Potion would I administer to someone to cure Petrifaction?”

Recalling what he had read in his first year books, and the actual Potion he remembered
from his second year books, Harry answered “A Mandrake Draught, sir” he answered
respectfully, despite the shock the answer instilled to the Professor, who clearly hadn’t
expected Harry to know or the others who had no idea of the answer either. Many
Ravenclaws in the room could be seen scribbling down the question and answer fiercely
on a spare piece of parchment.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer “Lucky guess” he replied “Let’s try again, for what
purpose would I use shredded boomslang skin for?”

Harry, after hearing the question, frowned in annoyance, but those around him merely
assumed he was thinking. He knew the answer; it was to create a Polyjuice potion, a
potion that allowed you to take on the appearance of someone else if you had a sample of
their DNA for one hour. The problem with knowing the answer though was simple…he
really shouldn’t. What reason could he possibly come up with for knowing the answer to
such an advanced question that no first year should know unless they had been reading
ahead to fifth year material – which he had not done for Potions.

Deciding that it would be safe to take a dive, he answered “I don’t know sir.”

Surprisingly enough, Archie’s hand shot up like a rocket after he had said that. Snape,
having been ready to reprimand Harry for having the audacity to not know the answer
to an advanced Potion’s question paused and looked at the boy with a raised eyebrow.

“You can use it for Polyjuice Potion Professor Snape sir!” he said, and Harry finally
realized what was wrong with the boy, he seemed excited to gain Snape’s attention…

His attention from Harry finally leaving, he turned to Archie and asked another question
“Mr. Montague, name an ingredient used in the makings of a Love Potion.”

“Frozen Ashwinder eggs, eye of newt, a unicorn tail hair, and powdered horn of
Garaphorn” he listed off automatically, which weirded out Harry slightly – did the boy
have any ‘nefarious’ plans involving a love potion and a certain Zabini?

Snape too, seemed a little dumbstruck, but continued nonetheless “What are the
ingredients of Draught of the Living Death?”

Harry honestly didn’t know this one, from memory; Remus had mentioned it in passing
saying how James – his father – had blown up a classroom trying to brew it…in sixth year.
“Asphodel in an infusion of wormwood, valerian roots and sopophorous bean” he
answered, ticking off the three ingredients with his fingers as he went on “I would advise
though that if you wanted to get the juice out of the sopophorous bean more efficiently
to use the flat end of a dagger rather then slicing them, it works much nicer that way!” he
exclaimed with pride and a little twinkle in his eye not very different to Dumbledore’s.

Harry looked to his new friend in a new light. Despite how retarded he may come off at
times, he clearly was well versed in Potions, incredibly so. Harry couldn’t help but show a
sliver of respect to the youth for his knowledge – perhaps the hat did sort the boy
correctly after all. He also idly wondered if Stephanie was aware of his skills.

Snape smirked slightly at the answer, though, Harry mused, it wasn’t as cruel as his other
smirks – this was probably as close to Snape would ever come to being pleased.

“20 points to Ravenclaw for an excellent knowledge of advanced Potions and brewing” he
said then he turned to Harry with a smirk “and 5 points for not reading ahead like your
classmates.”

Harry just dismissed it, the man obviously hated him, so let him have his fun and take
points – he could easily win them back in other classes anyway.

“Well, why aren’t you writing this down?!” he barked to the Hufflepuffs who had looked at
the knowledge battle with confusion mostly. There was a sudden rummaging for quills
and parchment as those who hadn’t been taking notes began to do so.

For the remainder of that lesson, Snape had them brewing a simple potion to cure boils
after having them pair up and set up their tables correctly. Harry was amused at how
much care Archie took in setting up his cauldron, burner and ingredients that he gathered
from the class’s stores.

The pair, surprisingly enough, worked well together – to Snape’s chagrin – with Archie
doing the actual brewing, having proved how skilful he was at the task while Harry
prepared all the ingredients to the specification of Archie’s instructions. Snape,
meanwhile, glided around the room observing the other student’s potions, taking, in
Harry’s opinion, a sick glee in tormenting the Hufflepuffs.

As Harry was crushing the snake fangs he had been instructed to crush by Archie, a loud
sizzling and bang was heard from across the room. It seemed that Cedric’s partner, a
rather chubby boy, had done something wrong causing their cauldron to melt.

“Idiot boy!” chided Snape, as he inspected the damage “I suppose you added the
porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? Why do you dunderheads make
this mistake everyyear?” he asked rhetorically in exasperation “Diggory, take him to the
infirmary and that will be one point from Hufflepuff for not stopping him blowing up my
classroom!”

Harry narrowed his eyes in anger at the blatant unfair treatment Snape was delivering to
the other students in the class.

“Why do you suppose the Professor deems it necessary to belittle and verbally attack all
of the first years…he seems rather childish and immature for doing so.”

Harry was surprised when the comment almost caused Archie to mess up adding an
ingredient, but he regained himself and finished the final step of the potion before turning
to Harry.

“I’m sure Professor Snape has a good reason, he is the greatest Potion’s master on the
planet after all!” he gushed, like some fan-girl idolizing the newest pop sensation coming
out of the States.

When Harry looked at him, slightly weirded out, Archie continued “Professor Snape is my
hero! One day, I’ll be a Potion’s master as great as him, or at least I hope – he is the
greatest after all…” he trailed off, Harry noticed with amusement that Snape was now
standing right behind Archie with an annoyed expression on his face. Seeing his line of
sight, Archie turned around and let out a startled gasp when his ‘hero’ was standing
there and observing their completed Potion, nodding slightly as he looked it over.

“This is a perfectly brewed Potion” he admitted grudgingly before he got a wicked gleam in
his eyes that Harry recognized and attributed to someone losing house points very soon.

“Thought you could mooch off of Mr. Montague’s hard work did you Potter? That’ll be one
point for your laziness” he said before bottling a bit of the potion and stalking off.

Harry hadn’t even bothered to argue his point at the time; Archie was earning them more
then enough points for his excellent brewing abilities and Potion’s knowledge and he could
earn back the points he lost in any other class if he so chose to.

Harry finished his recollecting when he realized that he and Archie had arrived at the
clearing on the Hogwarts grounds dedicated to their flying lessons. They seemed to be,
much to his annoyance, the last two to arrive, if the annoyed stares of the first year of
Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were anything to go by.

On the ground stood two dozen evenly spaced school broomsticks separating the group
of curious and eager students, and the flying instructor and Quidditch referee Madam
Hooch. Madam Hooch stood with her arms crossed in her Quidditch gear staring them
down with yellow, hawk like eyes.

“Well, now that everyone’s here” she said, sending a scathing look at Harry and Archie
“everyone stand by a broom – come on, hurry up!”

Everyone scurried over to a broom at her impatient tone and stood beside it waiting for
further instructions. Harry looked down at the broom he stood beside; it was old and
rather weak looking with the twigs pointing out at odd angles.

“Now, I want you to place your hand over the broom” Madam Hooch yelled from the front
of the group “and yell UP!” she demonstrated by doing it herself and having her broom
jump into her hand.

Harry did as he was told when they were instructed to begin. To his surprise, the broom
jumped right into his hand instantly, however, not many shared his success. The only
other people who seemed to get it on their first tries were Roger Davis, another boy in
his year and Cedric. Archie’s broom wobbled for a bit before it simply rolled over – this of
course, didn’t sit well with the boy.

“Up…up…UP!” Archie yelled, but to no avail, the boy then turned to look at Harry in
surprise when he saw the broom resting in his grip “How did you do it Harry? I’ve been
yelling ‘UP’ forever…” Archie began to question while walking over to Harry, however, as
soon as he mentioned the magic word, the broom shot up like a rocket. Unfortunately for
Archie, he had just taken a step over the broom and it rocketing into a place no man
would ever want it to.

“Oh…that’s just not nice…” was all he managed to say before he fell to the floor clutching
his groin in pain. Several people standing around them erupted into giggles at the sight;
even Harry wasn’t immune to this.

After Archie recovered, Madam Hooch instructed them on how to grip their brooms
correctly and how to mount them without slipping off the end. Harry, apparently, didn’t
need any aid with his grip as he had gotten it right instinctively – something that their
instructor praised him on.

“Ok” Hooch began, interrupting the class “when I blow my whistle, I want you to kick off
the ground – hard – and just hover a few feet off the ground before landing immediately”
she instructed “Ok, one – two – three!” she blew her whistle and everyone rose of the
ground a few feet, some more steady then others. Harry just hovered there in mid air for
a few moments, enjoying the feel of floating on the piece of wood before looking around
to see several students standing on the floor and standing as far away as possible from
their brooms, probably scared from their first flying experience.

As the lesson progressed with more and more people dropping out, not wanting to
proceed further, Harry really got the hang of flying around on a broomstick and
immediately enjoyed flying around in the air as fast as the rickety school brooms would
take him alongside Cedric, Roger and another Hufflepuff student Harry didn’t know the name of

When their lessons finished, Madam Hooch dismissed them, advising the four students
who performed the best to definitely try out for their house Quidditch teams next year.

Harry sat in the great hall with Archie to his right eating a sandwich for lunch when he
heard the fluttering of wings from above. Pausing with his meal, he looked up to notice
Bartholomew flying down with a letter attached to his leg. The powerful eagle owl landed
on the table in front of him and stretched his leg out, so Harry could take the letter, and
waited for his next order.

Harry tore open the envelope to notice a piece of parchment with Remus’s handwriting on it:

Dear Lucky

Congratulations on getting into Ravenclaw, not that I hadn’t expected it, it’s something I
should probably say anyway.

I’m glad to hear you’re making friends at school like I knew you would. That Archie boy
sounds like quite the character, I hope I can meet him some day as well as any other of
your friends.

I’ve been spending most of my times at Knockturn Alley cleaning up the store front you
bought for me. I’ve come to the decision that I’ll make it a pub/inn like the Leaky
Cauldron, seeing as there are no real reputable ones within the alley save for the Cauldron
itself, but people like me tend to be wary of such establishments, especially with ministry
personnel coming and going through there constantly.

I have no doubt you’ll be coming home for Christmas, so if you want, I can show you what
I’ve done so far here and you can help with the renovations. I don’t expect it to be ready
to open until the end of your school year.
Once it’s ready to open, I think I might sell our home because you’ll be at school most of
the year anyway and I will have to remain here to work. I will wait until Christmas so we
can discuss the matter face to face though in case you disapprove.

What do you think of your classes? I hope you haven’t caused any trouble yet. Have
you had your flying lessons yet? What did you think? Do you think you’ll take up Quidditch
next year?

I miss you and look forward to your reply. Send it back with Bartholomew whenever you want.

Moony

“Who’s that from?” asked Archie after swallowing his food and taking a sip of Pumpkin juice.

“It’s from my uncle Archades” answered Harry, raising an eyebrow when his friend winced
slightly.

“Do you have to call me that?”

“Call you what?” Harry asked back, feigning confusion.

“Archades – it’s such a crappy name!” he began, sounding annoyed “All my friends call me
Archie, so…you know, you should too!” Harry dismissed him with a wave, though, slightly
pleased that Archades thought of him as a friend.

“Whatever you say Archades” he answered with a smirk.

Seeing his smirk, Archades smiled in response “You know, if you keep calling me that I may
just have to hex you” he said, with a smug grin.

“You know, if you keep annoying me, I may just have to tell Stephanie how implicitly you
know the ingredients of and how to brew a Love Potion” he said, as the boy’s face drained
of colour “as a matter of fact, you are rather annoying, I may just go tell her now, now
she may never have feelings for you because she’ll just think you manufactured them if
she actually does…” Harry responded with a grin as he got up and started to walk off.

“No, no, Archades is fine; actually, when you say it, it sounds AWESOME! In fact, I
insistyou call me that” Archades said, stopping his friend as he chuckled nervously. Harry
just shook his head in amusement and pocketed Remus’s letter.

“Bartholomew, go rest in the owlery, I’ll have a reply for you to take back tomorrow, ok?”
Harry said to the large eagle owl. The bird’s shockingly intelligent and piercing orange
eyes seemed to bore into his own before it fly to his shoulder and nipped his eat slightly
and flew off.
Chapter: 5
Chapter 06: Introducing Quidditch!

Professor Robards stood in front of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years lecturing
them on the dangers of underestimating Pixies in the wild.

“They are devilishly tricky creatures that fool you with their mischievous and often ‘cute’
appearances but would sooner steal your wand and attack you en masse then allow you
to pet them” he went on, not sounding enthusiastic about lecturing about this particular
subject in the slightest.

The Defence against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts was a revered and often sought
after job at Hogwarts – surprisingly enough, for the past half century, no teacher has
lasted longer then a single term in office, or so ‘Hogwarts: A History’ stated.

Looking to his left, he saw Cedric scribbling down notes at a furious pace, trying to keep
up with the professor’s lecture. Archades, on his right, seemed to be just as bored as he
was; they had, after all, covered this a while ago in their weekly study sessions with the
fifth years.

“You been to see Flitwick yet?” Archades asked tiredly, trying to stay awake by starting
a conversation.

Harry looked up from his doodling and thought about the question. Once a week, Flitwick
has invited one of the first years into his office for a talk. Those who came back from the
meetings merely said that the tiny professor merely talked about what they thought of
Hogwarts, their results in class, and about them personally. Harry figured that the man
was merely trying to bond with the students and get to know his charges better – he was,
after all, responsible for them.

“I haven’t been yet, have you?” Harry asked, wondering if he was the only student who
hadn’t yet.

“Yeah” he replied “I had to go two weeks ago, it was OK” he answered “nothing hard, and
he’s a cool enough guy” he said, adding his two cents.

“Am I the only one who hasn’t gone yet?”

“I’d imagine so, it’s the ninth week of school and there are nine first year Ravenclaws; if
you haven’t gone yet, odds are you’re up next” he said with a tired shrug, showing a
surprising amount of logic for once.

“How long did the meeting go for?”

“About an hour I guess, why?” he asked, with amusement “you got somewhere else to
be? Secret rendezvous with a forbidden love interest you haven’t told me about? Its
professor Sinistra isn’t it!” he accused.

Harry just grinned at his friend and bopped him on the head. It was no surprise that
Archades would suggest such a thing, the astronomy professor was the object of many
male students’ –even some females’ – affection at Hogwarts. The woman was in her mid
twenties, Harry would guess, and she was quite beautiful. Harry and Archades often
joked about how Roger Davis would go on and on about her porcelain like skin, rich ebony
locks, and dazzling blue eyes.

“So, how’s Stephanie been lately? Aside from Transfiguration and Charms classes, I
barely ever see her” Harry asked, trying to change the subject so that his mind wouldn’t
wander too much…

“She’s okay I guess…” Archades offered with a small frown “she spends a fair bit of time
with her little group of friends in Slytherin I guess” at the mention of said group, Harry
rolled his eyes in annoyance. Lately, Stephanie had been spending a lot of time with three
girls in particular, three very annoying girls in his opinion. Harry only knew them as
Candice, Ashley and Samantha, not caring to know their surnames and their constant
giggling in classes and in the corridors between them often raked on his nerves. From
what he knew of Stephanie, he couldn’t understand how she put up with them, especially
if Archades apparently annoyed her so…

Archades looked at his friend, silently creeped out by the grin that suddenly appeared on
his face. It was the grin he had come to realize was one of many that he tried to
categorize. Harry often kept his emotions sealed behind a mask of neutrality, the likes of
which even the most experienced of Slytherins would be proud of, however, sometimes
Archades would see him let a grin slip that would tell a little about his mood or something
about him. The grin he was currently sporting told Archades that Harry had figured
something out that amused him greatly…he just wondered what that was.

“I want you all to give me a foot of parchment on the habitat of Cornish pixies by next
lesson if you will, class dismissed” Professor Robards dismissed as the bell went, allowing
the students to retire for the day. Harry and Archades bid Cedric goodbye as they went
to get some homework done in the Library together before dinner.

Harry was making his way to the seventh floor corridor with a note from Professor Flitwick
in his hand. During dinner, he had been interrupted by a majestic owl swooping down and
delivering a letter from Flitwick himself to him requesting his presence in his office within
the west tower that evening.

Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the man from what he had known of him so far.
There were many favourable mentions of the man in his mother’s school books and
journals stating that he was her favourite professor, also, the fact that he was an
accomplished dueller in his youth earned him the respect of many as a powerful wizard in
his own right.

Unfortunately, other then the levitation charm, the unlocking charm, and a charm that
enchants objects to dance, they hadn’t really learnt much. While the select few spells
they had learned could be useful in certain circumstances, Harry hardly thought that it
required two months of solid practical work to master; he would be much happier learning
more charms and have the professor tell them to practise the new ones they learn in their
own time.

Arriving at the door he knew to be Flitwick’s, he used the bronze, eagle shaped door
knocker that could be found on all the doors in the western tower to announce his presence.

There was a small crash from within “Oh!” exclaimed a squeaky voice “come in!”
Harry slowly opened the door to an oddly decorated office with several pieces of
furniture charmed to act differently and the silver haired professor himself sitting atop a
stack of books behind his desk with some tea and biscuits prepared before him.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, I’m happy you could join me, please take a seat” the ancient wizard
greeted, motioning to the comfortable looking chair opposite his own for Harry to sit.

“Good evening professor” Harry greeted politely and took the offered chair without
protest, even if it was a little bit small.

“Would you like some tea Mr. Potter? Perhaps some biscuits?” the tiny wizard offered.

“I’m full thanks, I might take a tea though” Harry accepted the cup of tea and took a sip,
idly thinking that it could use some more sugar.

“Now, let’s get started shall we?” he began with a cheerful voice “I’m sure you’re
wondering what this is about, as were all your peers” he began “this is merely a way for
me to get to know the new students and connect with them – I find it helps with teaching
and helps built a level of trust between my Raven’s and I” he explained very truthfully,
which Harry respected.

“So, what are your thoughts of Hogwarts now that you’ve had ample time to settle in? Is
it what you expected?” he asked, taking a sip of his tea which oddly enough, had a colour
changing umbrella twirling in it as he drank – each to his own, Harry mused.

“Hogwarts itself is very beautiful” Harry began “I had read a bit about it before coming,
but seeing it for myself was definitely an experience I won’t forget any time soon.”

“Hmm, wonderful” he chirped happily “many students tend to think that, it’s the reason
we have the first years enter Hogwarts for the first time the way they do – it adds to the
school’s beauty” he said “What do you think of classes – honestly” he amended, at the
end, seemingly thinking that Harry wouldn’t be honest about his answer; he really
couldn’t blame him for such thoughts.

Harry took a sip of his tea, wanting to think about his answer before blurting one out
that may seem inappropriate “I am…disappointed…at the lack of progress we seem to
make in classes” he began “I was…hoping…that we would be able to learn at our own
pace…” he said, trying to not sound boastful or resentful about his abilities or his problem.

“I figured you would say that” Flitwick said with a smile “You may hide it well Mr. Potter,
but the speed at which you master any spells taught to you and the level of
understanding you show in all of your homework in regards to magical theory suggest a
heavy understanding of magic and its uses” he commented “I suppose Mr. Lupin had
something to do with that?”

Harry didn’t answer the obvious rhetorical question causing Flitwick to chuckle “Yes, I
remember Mr. Lupin, quite the brilliant student; I’m hardly surprised by your knowledge if
he was your guardian…”

Seeing how this could be taken the wrong way, Harry stepped in “He never forced me to
learn anything sir” he said calmly yet with authority “I mostly had to pressure him into
teaching me then he was usually comfortable with.”

To that comment, Flitwick let out another chuckle “I’m sure you did Mr. Potter, I would
expect nothing less from one of my Ravens” he said proudly. Harry flushed slightly in
embarrassment for being caught assuming the worst about his head of house.

“Yes, your performance in both Minerva’s class and my own is quite remarkable, I must
say. I would also like to thank you for your assistance of your fellow peers in your study
groups in those two subjects – I’m sure Mr. Montague appreciates it immensely” Harry
flushed again in embarrassment, remembering to ‘talk’ to Archades about speaking to
others about him in the future.

“Oh, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about my dear boy” the professor chided “it’s very
gracious of you in fact, however, what interested me more was the fact that you helped
your friend in his studies by explaining theory to him that isn’t normally taught until NEWT
level classes at least…that is something that even the most brightest of Ravenclaws can
claim” he added with a little squeaky chuckle.

Harry remained silent as the professor was talking with him; he wondered where he was
going with this.

Flitwick observed him curiously before chuckling again “Mr. Potter, you are so much like
your parents yet so different I can’t help but find it amusing” seeing the almost desperate
inquisitive look in Harry’s eyes, Flitwick decided to elaborate “Had your mother of father
been in this position, the former would have been bursting with questions and the latter
would have probably been a tad bit boastful, if not downright cocky about his own
abilities” he admitted with a smile “yet you sit before me, the picture of the perfect
gentleman by allowing me to speak with no interruptions – it shows that you have respect
for me or my position and most probably have knowledge of pureblood customs.”

Harry was getting slightly uncomfortable with Flitwick’s ability to assess him so easily.

“However, you are so like your parents with your thirst to learn, your mother more so
then your father. While your father always endeavoured to better his own skills at
Transfiguration, he never really showed any interest in doing so until his third year, and
even then, it remained solely in that field. Your mother however…” here he paused and
stared out to space before letting out a wistful sigh “your mother was one of the most
brilliant students I have ever had the pleasure of teaching – such a powerful thirst for
knowledge and such brilliant skill in charms; it was a shame she was never sorted in my house.

“She mentioned you being her favourite professor in her journals a lot professor” he
interjected when he was sure he wouldn’t be interrupting “she also said you were an
excellent teacher.”

Harry found it amusing when the tiny wizard’s cheeks turned red in embarrassment
“Well, she was a most excellent student, I assure you” he replied, after a little cough.

“Your mother also had the same concerns as yourself, however they didn’t show
themselves until her fourth year from memory, with the speed at which she was learning”
he explained with a smile “I imagine that she would have said something sooner had she
been brought up as a witch instead of a muggleborn, she probably didn’t feel comfortable
in parading her knowledge around like others did” he said with a chuckle “though her thirst
for knowledge eventually outweighed her reservations and she eventually asked me for
help” he said with a twinkle in is eye.

Flitwick hopped off from his chair and removed a rather large and dusty book from his large
library near his desk before placing it down and taking his seat again.
“I hope I have gained enough of your trust so that you can come to me if you feel you
are not being tested sufficiently” he said with a smile “I must cut this wonderful meeting
short however to take a bathroom break before resuming with the tedious task of
correcting these troublesome homework assignments” he said, motioning towards the
large stack of parchment sitting on his desk.

He got up abruptly and headed out the door “It would be a shame if my copy of ‘Charms:
More then making things float!’ was misplaced from its current position on my desk” he
said with a fake sigh “I could only hope that whoever happened on it would be able to use
it to its full potential and return it when they were done with it” he finished with a chuckle,
leaving a stunned Harry as he exited his office.

As soon as the office was empty, Harry scampered over to the desk and looked at the
old and worn looking tome. Opening the plain cover, he was shocked to read that the
book was first published in the year 1273 and had several additions made to it over the
span of the last eight centuries or so. Grabbing the book under his arm, he suppressed a
smile and hurried out of his head of house’s office and straight into his room, ignoring
anyone who tried to get his attention on the way – he had reading to do.

If Harry was honest with himself, he would admit he was fairly excited. Today was the
day Hogwarts hosted the first Quidditch match of the Quidditch season and it would also
mark the day that Harry would see his first Quidditch match.

Archades had told him that Gryffindor and Slytherin were scheduled to play against each
other today, which apparently was the biggest rivalry in the school for a few reasons.
One was the obvious hostility shared between the two houses, the noble Gryffindors
being the perfect ‘light’ house and the slimy Slytherins being the ‘dark’ house – it was
obvious who most of the school supported, but Harry didn’t care either way; he just
wanted to see a good game.

Another reason he was excited to watch the game was two of the players that would be
playing today. One of them, Charlie Weasley, apparently the greatest seeker Hogwarts
has seen in centuries and a shoe in to go professional when he graduated. The other was
Abigail Moran, the Irish Chaser prodigy of Slytherin who is the only female to have ever
been allowed to play on the Slytherin Quidditch team, having tried out in her second year
and outclassing even some of the seventh years who tried. Harry heard rumours that
the seventh year girl has already had offers from her native country to play for them;
quite impressive, in his opinion.

“What time does the game start Archades?” asked Harry, trying not to let his excitement
show; however Archades picked up on it quickly.

“The prefects told us last night that if we want to watch the game, we need to follow
everyone else to the Quidditch pitch after breakfast. Why do you ask?”

Harry ignored him, much to the boy’s chagrin and continued to eat his breakfast, looking
at his watch every five minutes to check the time, much to Archades’s amusement.

Harry sat in a sea of navy blue and bronze with his fellow peers in the Ravenclaw section
of the Quidditch pitch stands. The pitch sported three fifty foot poles with hoops on them
at each end of the five hundred foot pitch. The Stadium was also elevated so that the
spectators could have better views of the game from an elevated position.
Suddenly, the crowd began to cheer wildly as seven players - each wearing mainly red
coloured Quidditch robes - came walking out of the changing rooms. The one in the lead –
obviously their captain – was easily identifiable with his infamous flaming red hair and
strong build. Charley Weasley led his team out to the pitch as they lined up with their
brooms in hand near the referee, Madam Hooch, awaiting their opponents.

The cheers almost instantly changed to jeers and sounds of disapproval, completely
drowning the cheers given by the Slytherin house. The captain, a boy Harry didn’t
recognize, led his team out to face the Gryffindors. The other person Harry came to see,
Moran, was as easily recognizable as her Weasley opponent, being the only girl on the team.

The two captains shook hands before Hooch released the golden snitch into the sky
before releasing the bludgers. Finally, she picked up the Quaffle and flew up into the air
with it under her arm, only to release it and start the game.

Like rockets, the Slytherin Chasers shot towards the Quaffle, taking it as their own and
began their advance on the Gryffindor goal. One of the Slytherin chasers performed an
impressive feint and allowed the Quaffle to pass him straight into Moran’s hands. She flew
at the goal that was being guarded by a nervous looking third year and pulled her arm
back to make a shot only to fake it and pass to her completely open Chaser team mate
who had no opposition and put the Quaffle through the hoop.

10 – 0 to Slytherin.

Harry saw Charley Weasley circling the pitch from above, probably looking for the golden
Snitch while howling orders to his team.

The match didn’t get much better for the Gryffindors from there with the Slytherin chasers
flying rings around the Gryffindor teams. Weasley had spotted the snitch four times
already, but with clever usage of the bludgers from the Slytherin beaters and careful
manoeuvring on Moran’s part, they were able to cut off all of his attempts to capture or
even come close to the snitch while continuously scoring more and more goals.

The score was now 110 – 30 to Slytherin, the Gryffindor keeper seemed to be
inexperienced, but not exactly bad.

“The Gryffindor’s keeper is doing pretty well out there” Harry said to Archades, not taking
his eyes off of Moran “considering Slytherin could be up almost 250 already had he not
made those saves…”

Archades shrugged “Who cares? I’m just watching Weasley going for the snitch…OOOH!
SO CLOSE! GO WEASLEY!” the boy cheered as Harry shook his head.

From what he could see from the game, people put way too much stock on seekers. Sure,
if they catch the snitch, they score for their team an almost unfair amount of points
equalling to that of fifteen goals, and end the match, but what if they couldn’t catch the
snitch quickly enough? The way things were going, Moran’s scoring and assist streak
would put them more then 150 points ahead, that is, if Gryffindor catches the snitch at all.

“Why do you care about the Seekers so much?” Harry asked his friend, watching as
Slytherin defended their goals with a perfect zone defence, not allowing the Gryffindors a
clear shot at the goal “Sure, they can win the match if they catch the Snitch, but Moran
is making sure that doesn’t happen while she tallies up the score for Slytherin…if things
go the way they are, even if Weasley catches the snitch, they still won’t win…”
Archades just shrugged “You’re right, usually though in school games like these, it’s the
seekers that decide the game” he began “on the professional and international levels, it’s
more of a tactical game and while the seekers are in a position to lead each other around,
players like Moran have a much greater impact on the game because they can interact with
all of the players on the field and still do their job” he explained, as if reciting from a book
“it also helps that the only two professional level players on either team are Weasley and
Moran.”

Harry was surprised at his friend’s sudden knowledge of Quidditch tactics. His flying
abilities had Harry thinking that he wasn’t such a fan but that obviously wasn’t the case
“Then wouldn’t that suggest that a Chaser of professional level has a greater impact on
the game?” he asked “Why are Seeker’s so valued and fawned over when they aren’t
necessarily the most important players?”

“No one said they weren’t” Archie responded “The game ends when the Seeker catches
the snitch, so, obviously, they would be the star attraction” he lectured “Also, in doing so
they score the equivalent of fifteen goals in points which is usually only equalled rarely
by a combination of three players working together” he said “Then there’s the battles
between the two Seekers and how they can disrupt plays, which is much more common on
a professional level.”

As if reading his thoughts, Charley Weasley swooped down and swatted away a pass
that would have had Moran in the open to score another goal towards his own team
mate before returning to circle the pitch.

“Okay, but given all of that, what do you think would be more valuable to a professional
team, a world-class Chaser with good teamwork with his fellow chasers or a world-class Seeke

Archades stopped watching the game and turned to his friend in interest “Why do I get
the feeling that my answer to this question will have serious repercussions for the
Wizarding World and the world of Quidditch?” he asked with a grin which was mirrored by Harr

Archades seemed to think for a bit with a calculative gleam in his eyes before answering
“A world-class Seeker will always be more fun to watch, mainly because of their aerial
acrobatics and fast paced battles, but a World-class Chaser can control a game much
more easily with the assistance of his two other chasers and seeing as how Quidditch
games on professional levels are played in a series of who scored most points, the
Chasers would probably be more important” he answered “and hypothetically, if say,
someone I knew wanted to play Quidditch, and that someone was really good at
football, they would make more then a decent Chaser, especially if, hypothetically again,
that person was a good centerfielder and was used to controlling the tempo of a
game...hypothetically of course” he finished with a grin.

Harry chuckled “It’s midfielder you git” he said, but he didn’t correct his friend. Next year
would definitely be interesting.

Harry watched Moran’s playing style closely for the rest of the game. They seemed to
keep up their relentless assault on the Gryffindor goals while the beaters and chasers ran
interference on Weasley whenever he spotted the snitch.

The assault on the goals continued until the score was 210 – 50 to Slytherin and that point
in the game marked a change in tactics for the Slytherin teem. It seemed that the
Slytherin seeker had no delusions about beating Weasley to the Snitch, so Slytherin
changed to a completely defensive playing style, no longer attacking unless they
intercepted a Gryffindor attack and seeing as Gryffindor were more then 150 points
down, they weren’t focusing too much on defence.

By the time Weasley caught the snitch by performing a barrel roll on his broom then
hanging upside down on it to avoid two bludgers aimed at his torso before catching it, the
score was 260 – 50 to Slytherin, the Snitch making it 260 – 200, a Slytherin win.

Three quarters of the crowd seemed to be disappointed while the Slytherin students
cheered wildly. Archades pointed out, rather amusingly in Harry’s opinion, the normally
cold Stephanie cheering just as wildly as her housemates while jumping up and down and
waving her green and silver scarf in the air.

The Slytherin team were celebrating on the pitch; however, Moran rushed over to
Weasley and shook his hand in a show of good sportsmanship that Weasley returned
eagerly. Both walked off the pitch together talking animatedly about something no one
could hear.

“I guess this is a perfect example of how a ‘world-class’ Chaser would be more valuable
then a ‘world-class’ Seeker, eh?” Archades said with a chuckle as they both returned with
their housemates back to the castle.

Harry stood outside the castle that had its lush green landscape covered in a blanket of
fresh white snow with Cedric by his side. It was a week before Christmas and McGonagall
had, earlier that month, had a form which students had to sign if they wished to return
home for the holiday.

Archades and Stephanie had to stay at school because the Zabinis were on an important
business trip to Japan for the rest of the month. Cedric and he however planned on
returning home and taking the Hogwarts express together seeing as no one else Harry
knew was going home for Christmas.

“We’ll see you guys earlier next year, yeah?” offered Archie with a smile.

“Indeed” replied Harry “be sure not to accost Stephanie too much, she may not be as
merciful without many witnesses around…” Harry supplied, suppressing a snort of
amusement at Stephanie’s ‘evil’ grin that she was currently sporting.

“Harry early Christmas guys, we better go Harry if we want to catch the train” Cedric said
with as he bid his friends farewell. Harry nodded and wrapped his coat around him more
to protect him from the cold.

“We’ll see you guys in a week or so” Harry said in farewell and followed Cedric to
Hogsmeade and the Hogwarts express.

Harry departed King’s cross station after Cedric bid him farewell with a promise of gifts for
Christmas.

“You have any idea what you want to do for the break then?” Remus asked his ward who
was sitting beside him on the Knight Bus on their way to Knockturn Alley.

“Not really” Harry answered with a shrug “I’ve done all my homework so I figured I could
help with whatever you planned on doing with that pub of yours and see mum on
Christmas” he answered “I might need to get some gifts for a few people too, especially if
they’re getting me something” he said as an afterthought “what do you get someone you
just met for Christmas?”

Remus grinned at Harry’s obvious lack of knowledge with things like this “Get them
something cheap, like a box of chocolate frogs; that way, if they don’t get you anything
in return they won’t feel bad. If they do get you something, you know for next time to
get something better” he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“So” Remus said, after some silence “tell me about your new friends; you didn’t go into
much detail in your letters.”

“There’s Archades Montague” Harry answered, missing the dark look that passed over
Remus’s face at the mention of that name “he’s kind of an idiot most of the time” Harry
answered truthfully as Remus chuckled “but he’s real good at potions and idolizes
Professor Snape for his skill in the field…he also knows a lot about Quidditch but doesn’t
like to play…” he answered, after trying to think about what he knew of his friend, which
regrettably wasn’t much.

“He idolizes Severus?” Remus asked with amusement lacing his words “I’m sure he wasn’t
too happy about that.”

“Yeah” Harry agreed “he’s my partner in Potion’s class so he’s real uptight about doing
well and impressing the professor” he said with a grin “he even scolds me for ‘daring’ to
have the ‘audacity’ to warrant points being docked for my ‘indecent’ and ‘moronic’
behaviour” he said, accentuating certain words with air quotations when necessary.

Remus frowned at that “You’re not causing trouble are you?”

Harry snorted “This coming from a marauder?” Harry asked, causing Remus to wince at
the name of his childhood ‘gang’.

“Touché” he conceded.

“No, I’m not getting in trouble, it seems Professor Snape is still bitter about what you guys
did to him when you were children – he seems to be taking it out on me” he said with a
shrug. When Remus looked concerned about that, Harry waved him off. It was no secret
to the two of them what kind of things James Potter and Sirius Black, two of the
Marauders and best friends, did to the miserable git of a Slytherin back when they were
younger.

“Don’t worry” he assured the man “he’s more upset about the fact that he has no
legitimate reason to punish a perfect student like me then having one to begin with” he
assured with a smile.

Remus let out a bark of laughter “Any other friends?”

Harry shrugged “There’s Stephanie and Cedric, but I’m closer to Archades I
guess…Stephanie and Cedric are more Archades’s friends” when he saw Remus looking at
him with expectation he elaborated “Stephanie Zabini has is a Slytherin girl in our year
who Archades has known for most of his life – she says he lives with her, I don’t know
why though, I was sure the Montagues were a well respected, still alive, pureblood
family” Harry didn’t miss the calculative gleam in Remus’s eyes “They apparently live in
their family villa in Italy but they still go to school here” Harry explained “I’m not sure why,
the schools in Italy look much more fascinating without their ministry restricting the types
of magic they can teach or the students they can take in” he said, in lecture mode.

“I’m well aware Lucky” Remus said with a chuckle, reverting to Harry’s hated nickname
“what about Cedric?”

“His name is Cedric Diggory; he’s a cool enough guy; Hufflepuff. He really likes Quidditch
and wants to try out like me next year” he said, ignoring the surprised look on his ‘uncle’s’ face.

“You want to try out for Quidditch? I figured you’d be hounding me to find a summer
football league for you to play on your holidays this year, I guess that’s not the case anymore?”

Harry shrugged, noticing they were nearing the Leaky Cauldron by looking out the
window of the bus “It looks really fun and aggressive; I wouldn’t mind being a chaser, I
still prefer football though” he confessed “but I may as well try out my luck with Quidditch
if I’m going to be spending most of the next seven years of my life at Hogwarts.”

“You thought about what position you’d want to be? Your father was a very talented
Chaser you know” he said, getting Harry’s interest “it was well known that he was offered
a place on the English National team in his seventh year, but with the war going on he
chose to become an Auror instead” Remus told in a wistful tone “he always used to
lecture us, even if we didn’t really care, that even though Seeker’s got all the girls,
Chasers were way more important to a Quidditch team’s success” he said with a chuckle
“I remember one summer he had done his hair in a certain way that made him look
‘dashing’ – or so Alice had told him – and fooled around with a snitch near your mother for
hours. Peter called it ‘Quidditch flirting’” Remus said with a fond smile, Harry chuckled,
though was interested in the mentioning of Alive Longbottom – he reminded himself to
ask about her at another time.

“Yeah, I wanted to try out for chaser too” Harry confessed “but this was before I knew of
dad’s skills at Quidditch – they really do seem to be the most important players of the
team…in my opinion anyway.”

Remus just ruffled his already messy hair before the bus came to a stop. They both
disembarked, bidding the driver - Stan Shunpike – a good afternoon.

Remus led Harry through the busy Leaky Cauldron, out back, and straight into Diagon
Alley. They continued to trek through the alley until they neared Gringotts before veering
off and entering the dark and much quieter Knockturn Alley.

Knockturn Alley is a dark, twisting alley mainly devoted to the dark arts and dark creatures
that the ministry either ban or disapprove of. Many ‘light’ sided families warn their children
off from even stepping foot in the alley, and for good reason, for the alley was littered
with dark and powerful objects, shady and unsavoury characters, prostitutes and
numerous different types of creatures the ministry labels as ‘dark’. These creatures were
mostly just like his uncle, dark creatures who really couldn’t go many other places to shop
or eat without facing discrimination.

Thought technically, the ministry had just as much right to enforce the law in Knockturn
Alley as they did in Diagon Alley and other parts of Wizarding England, they chose to turn
a blind eye as long as nothing overly illegal is being done – nothing illegal that they know
of anyway. This was the main reason Harry purchased the deed for a store front in one of
the ‘cleaner’ parts of Knockturn Alley for Remus. Remus was always against charity and
he knew that receiving money from the Potter family vault to raise him and living in a
Potter owned home rubbed him the wrong way. This way, Remus could start his own
business, earn some money and make his own way through life.

With the decision to open an inn, he could now live there instead of one of his houses,
make his own money, provide a safe haven for people just like him – unjustly
prosecuted werewolves, vampires, fae, goblins and dwarves – and live a happy life. It
was the ultimate present for the man that had given him so much without asking for
anything in return.

“Well, this is it” Remus said, motioning to the building they stood in front. Harry had never
seen it, only having purchased the deed previously owned by Gringotts bank months ago
with the only information being that it was one of the more sturdy and pleasant buildings
in the alley – which wasn’t saying much.

The building before them was squeezed between two other shops in the dark alley. The
shops were ‘Borgin & Burkes’ and ‘Meet-ya Creature’; the former a shop that sold barely
legal artefacts – probably more if you asked correctly – and the latter a shop that sold all
sorts of rare and exotic magical creatures – the kinds of which one wouldn’t find in Diagon Alle

The building itself was covered in ashen coloured wood with several large windows that
would normally allow vision of the inside of the establishment were it not for the heavy
curtains barring any view. There was a small flight of stairs leading up to a single, solid oak
looking door with an antique looking bronze handle. Next to the small flight of stairs was a
hatch that looked to be a passageway to get access to underneath the establishment. The
building looked to be almost three stories tall and seemed to go far back showing that it
was probably the largest building in the alley.

“That hatch leads to actual dungeons, not sure what I could use them for yet” said
Remus, pointing to the hatch beside the stone stairs “and there are around twenty single
rooms inside on both the second and third floors, lets go in shall we?” he asked, motioning
Harry to enter.

Harry walked up the stairs, palming the black steel railing of the stairs as he ascended
and opened the rather heavy door. He was surprised not to hear any squeaks of hinges
or creaking of wood as he did so, however, when he crossed into the room, there was a
bell noise that announced his entrance.

Looking to Remus in question, the man elaborated “I had Goblins enchant the hinges and
door with permanent silencing charms and unbreakable charms; the same goes for the stair
railing and the rest of the doors inside” he explained getting a look of understanding from
Harry. Enchanting was the art of permanently charming an object to behave a certain
way, or to change its base properties; it isn’t referred to as ‘charming’, regardless of the
similarities between the two because using charms are only temporary whereas when
one Enchants an object, it is permanent.

Harry was surprised then when the lanterns on the walls all lit up and illuminated the room
to see that instead of a dreary and dusty looking inn, he was privy to a somewhat
comfortable environment that Harry mused would suit a tavern/ inn perfectly. The room
was fairly large with a twelve foot ceiling littered with sturdy oak tables of different sizes
seating to as little as two and a maximum of eight in different, synchronized locations.
There was also a feature fireplace with a walk in firepit allowing for Floo travel at the
head of the room surrounded by several comfortable looking couches and small coffee
tables. Towards the back of the room was the bar counter that looked rather roomy with
ten stools situated around it. Within the bar were several shelves to store alcohol or
other beverages, he assumed, and a door most likely leading to what could be a kitchen
– he hoped Lizzy would approve.

On the opposite end of the large room a large set of stairs leading to the upper levels
that had lanterns leading up with them to illuminate the passageway of the tenants in the
dark. Looking at the high ceiling, there was also two large plain chandeliers that held
several candles in them adding more light to the room that could no doubt be seen
through the thick crimson curtains covering the windows.

“What do you think?” asked Remus, sounding anxious after Harry’s silent observation.
Harry just turned to him and smiled at the anxious man.

“I think its wonderful Remus” he said, smiling more when the man let out a sigh of relief, it
was nice to know his opinion was valued “Have you thought of a name for the place?”

“Erm…I was thinking ‘Moony Nights’, you know because of my nickname and the nature of this

“It’s a fine name Remus” Harry said, cutting off his uncle’s ramblings (I am going to refer
to him as such as guardian seems too informal and cold) “have you started on the kitchen
or hiring staff?”

Remus shook his head in the negative “As much as I appreciate this place Harry,
Knockturn Alley isn’t a nice place – I am waiting to get all the cheap furnishings and
warding on the place done so we don’t get thieves stealing valuables before we are up
and running.”

Harry conceded the point “Do you want me to research some wards we could try and
cast on the place? I have to admit I am kind of excited about the prospect of starting as
soon as possible” he said, getting in full ‘research mode’ and taking out a matchbox sized
trunk from his pocket. Before Remus could stop him, Harry whipped out his wand from its
holster and pointed it at the trunk on the floor.

“Engorgio”

Remus’s breath caught and waited for some punishment to arrive in the form of a letter
from the ministry. It was a well known fact that it was forbidden for any wizard or witch
to perform magic outside of school until the age of their majority and anyone caught
breaking the rule was severely punished – he’d doubt Harry would get in that much
trouble for such a harmless charm, but he would at least get a warning and his name on
record regardless.

As Harry rummaged through his trunk, Remus was stumped that the usual prompt
Ministry owl had yet to arrive. Going to the door, he opened it and looked to the
darkening sky through the dark rooftops of Knockturn Alley to see only two owls flying
but neither of them heading in their direction.

“Remus, what’re you doing?” Harry called from inside.

Closing the door and locking it with the heavy steel latches he had attached and had
enchanted unbreakable by twisting a knob, he turned to Harry and coughed in his hand to
get his attention.

“Harry, I have something you’ll probably want to know that you overlooked in your rush
to research our latest problem” he said with a grin that Harry learned to interpret as ‘I
know something you don’t know’ – it was a grin he hated.
“What is it Remus, I’m busy” he said distractedly as he continued to rummage through his trunk

“Nothing much, but I must commend you on your excellent use of magic right there,
quite a wonderful display of mastery of the enlarging charm” he said with a grin as he saw
Harry’s shoulder’s stiffen as the boy looked to him with a shocked face.

“Ohshit!” he cursed, ignoring the admonishing of Remus for using bad language.

“What are we going to do? Can we give you my wand and just say you did it...”

“Harry…”

“What about leaving real quickly so the Ministry Owl can’t find us?”

“Harry!”

“What would happen if we kill the owl and burn the letter?” he asked, sounding hopeful but
still ignoring Remus.

“HARRY!”

“What?!” he yelled in anger, however it quickly dissipated when he saw the grin on
Remus’s face.

“Kill the owl?” Remus asked in amusement; Harry was about to deck the man before he
interrupted him again.

“I have come to realize the sudden absence of a ministry owl even given the fact you
have performed an illegal act of underage sorcery…”

Harry looked around and realized this statement was quite true. He then ran to the
window, spreading the curtain and looking around outside to try and spot any owl only to
find none. Realization then dawned on the eleven year old.

“Oh…this is awesome!”

“Indeed” Remus replied, agreeing.

“How do you suppose that happened? It hasn’t got anything to do with this building, does it?”

Remus shrugged “I very much doubt it, but I do remember a rather fascinating story
behind that wand of yours.”

Suddenly Harry’s eyes flashed in realization “Ollivander didn’t make this wand…do you
think he puts monitoring charms that are relayed to the ministry on every wand he sells
so they can track underage sorcery?”

Remus nodded “I don’t know, but it seems plausible, and if it were true it would explain
why we are receiving no letter now for you doing so, after all, he did say he didn’t make
your wand.”

There was silence in the candlelit room for several moments only to be broken by Harry.
“Oh…this is awesome!”

“Indeed.”

Harry had spent most of his time forcing Remus to teach him as many spells as he could
during their short time together to the holidays while they worked together to begin the
processes of getting ‘Moony Nights’ off the ground.

The first thing they needed to do was get wards placed over the premises, similar and
hopefully more advanced then the ones over other inns in the area; the only difference
being theirs would need to be more powerful, due to their inn’s location. This of course
would mean that it would cost them more coin, but it was coin well spent in their opinion if
it meant keeping their establishment safe.

Harry expressed his irritations at not being able to ward the property himself but Remus
had told him that warding any property within the borders of England not only requires the
skill and magical power necessary to erect the wards, but also a licence to prove you are
proficient in the art and the permission of the ministry who like to keep track of who
wards what on their soil. It would not be good business on their behalf if half of their land
was erased due to people removing locations off the map with charms that make locations
a secret to all but those who make the wards.

It was now Christmas morning when Harry awoke in the bedroom he claimed as his own
in Moony Nights and got ready for the festivities of the day; when he left his room to go
downstairs, he made sure to take his mother’s guitar with him.

Harry arrived downstairs to see the poorly decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the
main room of the inn that Remus and he had created with the man himself sitting by it in
one of the comfortable couches reading today’s ‘Daily Prophet’ – it seemed that even on
Christmas, the press never rested.

“Morning Harry and Happy Christmas” Remus greeted, planting a kiss on the boy’s
forehead and retaking his seat by the fireplace before the boy could protest.

Harry went over to the tree to see several gifts from several people other then the
standard ones between Remus and himself. There were gifts from Archades, Cedric,
Stephanie and Professor Flitwick respectively. The gifts from his school friends were
nothing extravagant - like they promised - chocolates and sweets mainly while the gift
from his professor was something he definitely appreciated – a book on advanced and
abstract charms with a note saying he had given his mother the same thing in her fifth
year. He was beginning to really like this professor.

Remus’s gift had definitely been something he had not been expecting – a full Quidditch
game set including a Quaffle, two bludgers, a golden snitch and two beater bats with
Quidditch plays and tactics books included in the gift. The box it was in kept rattling as if
it were containing a live animal due to the violent bludgers being restrained inside. Remus
had said his father had received a similar gift when he had first expressed an interest in
Quidditch as a child from his parents.

Harry had given the man a magical device that was designed to store memories so that
you can review them at a later date – a Pensieve. The stone basin like device was
covered in many complicated runes and aids the owner in relieving the mind of cluttered
information and also allows them the ability to review the memory at any time in a third
person point of view. The man seemed to like the gift if the bone crushing hug he gave
him was anything to go by – it must have had something to do with reliving his memories
of happier times with his best friends.

Harry left Remus to his own business at the inn while he went about his own business for
the rest of the day, business involving his mother, her guitar and himself.

Harry stepped through the magical entrance of St. Mungo’s hospital by passing through
the window of what appeared to be a derelict department store called Purge and Dowse
Ltd. The inside of the hospital was very neat, sterile and tidy, just what one would
expect from any hospital, and all the nurses and doctors wore lime green robes.

Flashing a card to show his identity and his reason for being here, the receptionist that
was working that day – recognizing him – smiled at him sadly and motioned him towards
the elevator which opened with a ‘ding’ as he approached it.

Passing another guard who waved him through as he approached the permanent spell
damage ward, he approached a single bed housing a beautiful woman with pale white skin
and long and wavy red hair that fanned out behind her motionless head. The only sign
that the woman was still alive was the slow, rhythmic sounds of her breathing. Harry sat
in the couch beside the bed with a neutral expression on his face.

“Happy Christmas mum” he greeted “I’m back again, like I promised I always would be” he
said, his voice breaking but only slightly “You should probably know I started school this year…

Harry proceeded to have a one sided conversation with his mother about his time so far
at school, the friends he’s made, his impression of the professors and what he has
learned. He also mentioned how he and Remus were doing and the beginnings of ‘Moony Nigh

When Harry stopped talking, mainly because he honestly couldn’t think of anything else
to say, he took out her guitar and began to play the one song he felt connected him with
his mother the most, oblivious to those listening in.

“You say he comes in every year?” said a young nurse while looking at the monitor which
observed visitors in the permanent spell damage ward.

“He’s been coming for year, since he was eight I think” said an older nurse as the two
listened to the boy play the tune the older of the two had come to recognize.

“It’s so sad…for a boy to spend his Christmas days like this…” the younger nurse said,
her eyes watery.

“I think its beautiful” the older one replied, with a determined look on her face “not many
would feel so dedicated to anyone like that to be so thoughtful and keep coma patients
company” she paused “especially not a boy his age.”

The younger nurse giggled as Harry began to play a rather difficult looking part of the
song “He’s so cute though, don’t you think?”

The older woman looked down at the nurse in training with an amused look “Dear, he’s
only eleven, but I do suppose he’d be single then.”

The younger nurse let out a laugh and slapped her mentor playfully “Oh shush you!”

The two continued to watch on this rather slow day for them as the boy spent the
majority of the day beside his mother until visiting hours were over.
Chapter: 6
Chapter 07: Nymphadora Tonks

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly after temporarily removing his glasses. He could currently
be found sitting alone in his dorm room with a multitude of books opened around him
with random pieces of parchment covered in his notes strewn all over his desk. This
wasn’t a rare sigh, especially in the Ravenclaw tower this time of year.

It was the beginning of June and the end of year exams were fast approaching. The
exams weren’t nearly as important compared to his fifth year OWL or his seventh year
NEWT examinations, but they were a way for him to measure his capacity so that he can
feel safe to continue with his independent studies. He was certain that he didn’t need to
study for his Transfiguration or Charms exams, nor did he think he would ever, but that
didn’t mean he could completely disregard his other subjects in favour of them.

So here he was, in his room, alone on this beautiful summer day, looking over all of his
notes on the subjects he wasn’t so confident in, making sure he knew everything the fifth
years in their study group had told them they should know if they wanted to get
excellent marks.

Ever since his return from Christmas break, Harry had spent most of his time either
learning the spells and theory from the books Flitwick had given him, practising his
rudimentary Occlumency skills by learning to clear his mind as quickly as possible, studying
with Archades or watching the House Quidditch games. He had also, through Archades,
become somewhat closer with Stephanie and Cedric, though he still didn’t feel too
comfortable around them yet; he just didn’t know them well enough.

That’s not to say he knew anything about Archades either other then for some reason he
isn’t living with his ‘still alive’ family, he likes to watch Quidditch, that he has lived with
Stephanie’s family since he was little and that he has a crush of monstrous proportions on
said girl. However, having been forced to live, study and spend most of his time with the
boy for the majority of the year, he can safely say that his presence was becoming less
and less of a bother.

Magically packing away his books and notes with a flick of his wand, Harry decided on
going for a walk after washing his face; he was naturally an active boy and being cooped
up inside a dark room all morning and most of the afternoon just didn’t sit well with him.

Passing several students on his way down studying in silence and trying not to disturb the
fifth and seventh year students diligently studying for their OWL and NEWT exams,
Harry opened the door to his common room and snuck out without anyone noticing.

The castle of Hogwarts, where magic was taught to children and performed by professors
on a daily professor was not just a pile of rubble, clumped together to form a castle, it
too was full of magic. Harry had, by accident, happened on a number of secret passages
that cut his travelling time around the prestigious school by at least half that could be
accessed by a number of different means. Of course, he had found most of these when
the infamous Weasley twins were on several of their ‘great escapes’ from the caretaker
Filch after one of their rather ingenious pranks. The two may not be academically
impressive, but their ability to make people laugh was matched by no one.
Approaching the statue of Odbog the Weird, Harry tugged on his earlobe causing the
fairly large stone structure to temporarily move aside, allowing him passage to a rather
dark and winding tunnel that would lead him to a completely different section of the castle.

Exiting the secret passage by tapping the back of the statue on the other end of the
tunnel, Harry stepped around it and found himself in a part of the castle that mostly had
empty classrooms and deserted corridors. The school was initially built one thousand
years ago as the only magical institution in Europe, so obviously, it catered to more
students; now though, the excess space was just left deserted so that curious students
could explore if they so wished.

Harry passed by several corridors, not really caring where he was walking just happy to
stretch his legs when he suddenly heard a shouting voice along with several muffled
‘bangs’ coming from a particular room on the other end of the hallway. Letting his curiosity
get the better of him, Harry followed the noises to the room in question and quietly
opened the door, glad that it made no noises so it could announce his entry.

Once inside, Harry was surprised to see a girl who looked to be in her sixth or seventh
year with unnatural looking bubblegum pink hair tied in a pony tail that fell below her
neckline. Harry continued to watch her in the shadows of the room, closing the door
behind him as he entered, interested in what a student would be doing all alone – when it
was so close to exams – in some place like this.

The girl had set up several ‘targets’ which were probably chairs transfigured into human
like dummies placed randomly around the room that were charmed to sporadically move in
a certain way every so often. It was as if she were practising for a war of sorts with the
way she was firing off stunning, disarming, bludgeoning, and blasting hexes with great
accuracy at each target and every time one dummy got destroyed, it would reform
magically and continue with its previous task.

Harry continued to watch the heavily concentrating girl for a further five minutes who
was now panting heavily and sweating up a storm from dodging and rolling away from
invisible spell counter-fire he guessed while countering with her own spells. If he was
honest, he would definitely say he was impressed – never before had he seen someone
taking their studies to this level before.

Finally, the charms on her targets ran out and they fell to the floor as regular old chairs,
closely followed by the girl who fell on her back and looked up to the ceiling while panting
hard and trying to regain her breath.

Harry waited a few moments before making his presence known “That was impressive…”

The girl jumped in fright and got into a defensive position immediately with her wand
pointed at him “What the fu… who are you?” she asked in curiosity, after apparently
deciding he wasn’t a threat – there were benefits to being a first year after all “and how
long have you been watching me?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

Harry just shrugged “Harry Potter and I heard the commotion you were making from
outside so I decided to take a look” he said, not in the least bit intimidated by the wand
still pointed at him.

The girl seemed to curse herself “Damn it, I forgot the silencing charm” she seemed to
correct her mistake by pointing to the door and sending a light blue coloured spell at it
which made the door flash once in the same colour before disappearing.

“So…who are you and what are you doing here?” Harry asked, interested. The girl
shrugged before answering.

“I guess there’s no harm in telling you, my name’s Nymphadora Tonks, but everyone
calls me Tonks unless they want to be hexed” she said with a gleam in her eye which
Harry ignored completely “and I’m practising for when I go try out at the Auror academy”
she said with a proud smile.

Harry scrunched his face up in confusion “I’m not claiming to be an expert, but from what
I’ve heard, it wasn’t particularly hard to join the Auror academy, so why practise so
much?” he asked the now obvious Hufflepuff girl when he noticed the front of her yellow
trimmed robes.

The girl smiled widely; probably delighted that someone was taking an interest in her –
she seemed the type to crave attention if her hair was any indication – Yeah, you can
join the corps and get one of those lazy ass instructors at the academy and become a
second class Auror, or you can try and do what I do and impress someone of enough
importance so that they take you on as a protégé!” the bubbly girl explained energetically.

Harry nodded, understanding the situation now “You think you’re ready then?” he asked,
making conversation.

“Nope, but I still got a year to make sure, I’m only sixth year you know!” she said with a
wink and cheeky grin. Harry was reminded of Remus when he talked to this girl, well,
Remus when he was in ‘pranking’ mode and not ‘parent’ or ‘moping’ mode.

“You’re not very good at charming or transfiguring things…” Harry observed, rather
bluntly, motioning to the chairs strewn out on the floor and getting an angry glare from Tonks.

“You think you can do better ickle firstie?”

Harry grinned and flicked his wrist, allowing his wand to appear in his hand, before Tonks
could comment on his wand holster, something not many people invested in; Harry was
flicking his wand and waving it in intricate patterns while muttering incantations under his breat

Tonks watched, amazed, as the seven chairs in the room turned into much more realistic,
yet still rather fake looking, dummies with small holes in their faces that began to move
around much more quickly and randomly then the ones Tonks had charmed earlier.

Before Tonks could ask what the hell he had just done, a small ball was shot out from one
of the dummies and it impacted square on her forehead, causing her to recoil in shock.
Wiping at her forehead when she felt a liquid like substance and fearing the worst, she
was surprised to see yellow paint.

She yelped in shock when another struck her on her behind. Swiping her hand on the
now marked spot, she was angered to see red paint. Turning to the now grinning Harry,
she was about to hex him when he pointed behind her.

“You might want to start dodging Nymphadora” he advised wisely. She didn’t even have
time to admonish him for the use of her name when she heard the sound of several paint
balls being shot at her, forcing her to drop into a crouch and roll out of the way.
“When you hit them with anything, they’ll stop firing at you momentarily but they will
continue after 10 seconds, go on Nymphadora” he said with a grin as he watched the tired
and livid girl dodging and weaving out of the way of more paint balls while firing off
curses to temporarily stop their attack.

Harry made sure that the animation charms on his transfigured ‘human paint-ball shooters’
lasted for at least fifteen minutes before cancelling them, the pink haired girl looked like
she was about to drop from exhaustion.

“That was the best workout ever” claimed the now panting sixth year “if I can do something
like that twice or three times a week, I’ll be a shoe in for an apprenticeship in the corps”
she said, with a grin despite her state of exhaustion.

“I agree, all you need to do is keep those animation charms up twice or three times a
week when you exercise” Harry said with a smirk.

Tonks got off the ground and glared at him “Nu-uh” she began “you can’t just be like that
after letting me see how beneficial it would be, and let’s not mention how a first year can
perform such magic in the first place” she said with a glare.

Harry didn’t answer her second question “What’s in it for me?”

With her eyes still narrowed she answered “You get to spend time with a beautiful older
woman such as myself” she provided, striking a pose and, if he wasn’t mistaken, overly
sparkling eyes. When Harry didn’t seem to be impressed by the offer, she narrowed her
eyes again and smirked.

“I can teach you advanced charms, hexes and curses that you won’t learn for years if
you keep animating those dummies for me three times a week” she said, playing on the
boy’s Ravenclaw side and hoping it would work.

Harry stopped immediately and considered the offer, it was definitely tempting. He wasn’t
‘scheduled’ to learn any spells like that until his fourth year, far too long a time to wait for
his liking.

“We have a deal then” Harry said, holding out his hand which Tonks grabbed in a handshake.

“Then, I’ll meet you here in three days then Nymphadora” Harry said, before attempting
to walk out the door while dodging random hexes sent by the irate girl.

“Ah, what the hell?!” came the somewhat girlish squeak from Archades. Wondering what
his friend’s problem was, he looked up from his breakfast to what he was looking at only to
see Lizzy.

“Good morning Lizzy, you look well, is there a problem?” greeted Harry to the small elf
dressed in her small flower covered dress.

“Good morning Master Harry sir” she began in her squeaky voice “Master Remus telling
Lizzy to give Master Harry this letter, he says its very important and that Lizzy must
deliver quickly!” she gushed, sounding out of breath.

Suddenly, her eyes zoned in on the bacon and eggs he was eating and she narrowed her
eyes. Harry wanted to laugh at how overprotective the little mother hen house elf could
be, but it was endearing so he let it go. She hopped up onto his lap to get a closer look at
his foot, scrutinizing it with a wary eye before, reluctantly, she nodded.

“It is not as good as Lizzy’s food, come home soon Master Harry sir so Lizzy can make
proper food! You is growing boy after all!” she squeaked before disappearing with a pop.

Seeing Archades’s dumfounded look, he shook his head in amusement “She was always a
mother hen, anyway, I wonder what was so important that Remus had to send Lizzy…he
usually just sends Bartholomew if he needs to send a letter…”

Opening the envelope, he took out the piece of parchment inside and began to read:

Dear Lucky

We have problems; the Ministry has been snooping around the inn and not even
bothering to be discreet about it. I only figured out what they wanted or rather, what
their purpose was today. I sent a proposition to get an alcohol serving licence and ward
licence only to have them immediately denied. Usually these things take a few weeks to
get approved of given all the red tape and are hardly denied unless you are a wanted criminal.

To have it instantly denied is something unheard of, so, I enquired what the problem was
and I found it.

Her name is Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and also –
coincidently – the same person who is trying to pass all those awful anti-werewolf
legislations through the Wizengamot that makes me getting a job almost impossible.

I have filed an appeal and my case will be heard before the Wizengamot on August the
1st. I don’t want to ask this of you Lucky, but if you can do some research and possibly
find a good lawyer, I would be appreciative. We have a better chance of winning if you
were to find a solicitor instead of me; regardless of how I act, werewolves will always
attract discrimination sadly.

Are you studying? How is Archades? How do you like the Quidditch? Would you like to go
to the World Cup? It’s being hosted in Japan.

Get back to me when you can.

Moony

“What’s that about?” asked a curious Archades.

“My uncle is trying to start an inn that will welcome all types of people free of
discrimination in Knockturn Alley, but because of its nature and the fact he has his
monthly problem, the ministry is trying to veto it” he explained, filing away the dark look
that came over the boy’s face at the mention of his uncle and the ministry.

Harry had told Archades about being raised by a werewolf friend of his families shortly
after returning from Christmas. He figured it was only fair seeing as he knew how he was
raised, without having been told by the boy himself.

“What are you going to do?”

Harry kept silent for a while in contemplation before speaking “I need to research past
Werewolf related and Death Eater trials” replied Harry.
Archades looked confused and startled “How will that help?”

Harry grinned “The ministry has always been incompetent when it comes to Justice”
Harry began, sounding much older then he really was when talking politics to his friend
“All I have to do is show their hypocrisy blatantly in court and the Wizengamot won’t
have much of a choice but to drop their stance, especially if they don’t want the dark
creatures of Wizarding Britain revolting” he said with a grin.

Archades looked worried “Harry, you’re playing a dangerous game” he warned “I totally
agree with you” he quickly amended, seeing the dark look in Harry’s eyes “but many
other wizards won’t, they are too set in their ways and fear what is different to them –
you’ll make enemies…”

“I already have enemies” Harry replied in an emotionless voice, one which sent shivers
down Archades’s spine.

Changing the topic, Harry brought up his other issue “Do you know of any reputable
Wizarding solicitors?”

Archie nodded after a moment’s pause “The Zabini’s lawyer is someone named Tonks;
from memory” he looked thoughtful for a moment “they would need to be good if the
Zabini’s continue to use them, Mr. Zabini is a real perfectionist and a ruthless businessman
– he doesn’t like to lose.”

Harry grinned, this was perfect!

Nymphadora Tonks was panting as Harry concentrated on keeping his animation charms in
effect on his paint-ball shooting dummies. He had added an extra one silently after five
minutes without Tonks’s knowledge, adding to the difficulty of the exercise. This was their
fifth or sixth time doing this and the girl was growing on him, much like Archades had
done without his knowledge. They both had this endearing innocence about them that
just attracted his attention.

Archades seemingly bipolar personality regarding his ‘learning mode’ and ‘playful mode’
always made him someone you wanted around for a laugh, he even mentioned this to
the boy who had only replied with a ‘so I’m the comic relief? I can live with that’.

Nymphadora was very insecure, which stemmed from her abilities as a Metamorph, or
more simply, a person who can change their appearance at will. All her life people have
wanted her to act, or be, someone she was not and it limited the amount of honest
friends she could have. Boys would lust over her due to the prospect of being able to
‘play’ with her abilities and girls naturally disliked her for this. The elation she had shown
when Harry had practically outright ignored her Metamorph abilities entirely except for
saying it would be helpful in her profession was something that was firmly entrenched in
his memory.

Harry had never really cared for anyone other then himself and Remus when growing up.
It didn’t mean he wished ill on others, he was usually just apathetic to everything;
desensitized to tragedy as a result to seeing and remembering such a thing that
happened when he was three. Now though, he pondered if not having friends and being a
loner contributed to that somewhat, because he certainly didn’t mind his current friends;
they provided a welcome relief to his usual brooding silently while playing his guitar.
Seeing that Tonks was about to collapse, he cancelled the charms and allowed her to plop
to the floor.

After several moments in which she caught her breath, she spoke.

“Did you get down the shielding charms I taught you?” Tonks asked, interested.

The girl had kept up to her end of the bargain, teaching him two very useful shield
charms. The one he had already known, the ‘Protego’ charm, merely used magic to create
a barrier that nullifies most curses and jinxes with equal force, the two that Tonks taught
him, though while more situational, could very well win you a battle if used correctly.

The first was the ‘Contego’ charm which conjures a circular golden shield at the tip of the
casters wand that acts as a literal shield that the caster can control and manoeuvre as
much as they pleased; however, it also had the added bonus of feeding off of weaker
spells and using their magic to strengthen its defensive power. The charm wasn’t as good
as the ‘Protego’ mostly because it took more magic to use and unless you absorb spells, it
does the exact same thing as it, except it is movable after cast. It was best used in
situations were you are underestimated or duelling numerous lesser skilled wizards who
fire weaker spells at you, allowing you to leech their magic to use as your own until you
are prepared to attack.

The other shield charm she taught him was the ‘Declino’ charm. This charm isn’t so much a
shield charm as the other two, but it can protect the caster from attacks while preserving
your magic. It works by warping the space before the caster with magic and ‘guiding’
magic past the user, harmlessly, away from you. The only drawbacks of this charm were
that you shouldn’t use it if you are fighting with allies around you – less you deflect your
spells into them - and that it doesn’t work at all with spells that ‘lock on’ to their targets or
the more powerful dark curses.

“I think so” Harry replied “there’s only one way to find out” he said with a grin. Tonks
mirrored his grin and stood up and aimed her wand at him.

“En garde Potter!” without any other warning then her initial shout, she started firing
disarming and stunning curses at him in quick succession.

As soon as the first spell left her wand, Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, but he flicked his
wrist and started casting the three shield spells he knew to block, absorb or deflect them.

Tonks grin grew wider as she sent more and more curses at him at an impressive speed in
a flurry of red and blue light. Harry was hard pressed to avoid them all and was
beginning to sweat himself from overexertion. After a while of this, Harry saw Tonks
increasing her speed by not even saying the incantation for each spell and firing them
silently at him.

As a result of Tonks’s most recent strategy, Harry had to physically dive out of the way
to avoid some of the quicker spells.

Harry knew he would eventually get hit at the rate she was going and mused that Tonks
was enjoying this way too much for his liking. Waiting for the next barrage of spells, Harry
put a little extra power in the shield which bought him a precious few seconds; a few
seconds he used to reactivate the paintball dummies who began to take some of the
curses for him and fire paintballs at his opponent to distract her.
“Hey, that’s cheating!” he heard Tonks yell over the sound of spell fire. Harry grinned and
transfigured a nearby chair into a wooden block so he could take cover and recover.
After a few moments, Harry peeked up over his barrier only to see a flash of light before
darkness.

Harry awoke to have his vision blinded by pink. Shaking his head to get rid of the
disorientation the stunning spell obviously left him in, he picked him self up off the ground
and glared at Tonks for good measure while dusting him self off.

“A stunning spell to the head? Getting a tad bit carried away aren’t we Nymphadora?”

“Stop calling me Nymphadora brat!” she countered, only for Harry to ignore her. If she
didn’t need him in tact to help her train, she would have cursed him to high hell already.
It had nothing to do with the fact that the kid was growing on her. Nothing at all.

“Anyway, you’re the one who cheated first!”

Harry shrugged “You’re a sixth year, and you can’t deal with some transfiguration?”

“Transfiguration in battle is…it’s cheating! I hardly know anyone who’s not a professor
that can do what you do!” she whined.

Harry shook his head in exasperation. After a few moments of silence, he voiced the
question that was gnawing away at his mind “Nymphadora is your father a lawyer?”

Ignoring the twitch in her eye at the liberal use of her name, she answered “No, my dad’s
an accountant, my mother’s the lawyer, why?”

“My uncle is having some troubles with the ministry, he asked me to find him a lawyer…”

Harry explained the problem to the girl, confident that she would be sympathetic given
the way she was treated at school for her abilities.

“I’ll pass on the message, who’s your uncle by the way?”

“His name’s Remus Lupin”

Tonks’s eyes widened slightly before grinning “Remus is an old friend of my parents, this
shouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t know the Potters were related to him though…”

Harry shrugged “They’re not, he’s my guardian, and it’s just simpler to refer to him as
uncle when I’m talking to others.”

“I’ll see what I can do, in the mean time, let’s do that again!” she said with a grin, a
stunning spell on the tip of her wand. The last thought Harry had before he was
bombarded with spells once again was that he really needed to learn silent casting!

Harry looked at the small envelope in his hands warily before looking around the
Ravenclaw common room to see several excited or disappointed students discussing the
contents of their own. He had just finished his exams a few days ago, something he was
very glad for.

As predicted, the Transfiguration and Charms examinations were easy for Harry, his only
problem was if they wouldn’t mark him well if he added more information then necessary
or answers that were above his school level.

The toughest examination had definitely been History which was just a mass
regurgitation of names and dates that he had crammed the night before the actual
exams. Astronomy was fairly easy, as was Herbology.

The Potions exam was rather tricky to call. He was certain he did well with brewing the
rash-curing potion but one-sided animosity between the Potions professor and himself
would surely hinder his results somewhat, or at least he thought.

“Well, how did you go? I promise not to laugh” said Archades cheekily, waving his 5th in
the year rank around in his face. After the exams, each student’s scores are tallied up
and averaged out so they could be ranked amongst their peers. It wasn’t much of a
surprise that most of the top ten consisted of Ravenclaw students, however, both were
pleasantly surprised to see that Stephanie had ranked 6th and Cedric 10th.

Harry opened the letter and quickly skimmed over the letter, shielding it from Archades’s
view, much to the boy’s chagrin. Harry then looked up to the boy with a neutral face,
using his Occlumency techniques to clear all thoughts from his head.

“I did okay” he supplied with a small grin. Whipping out his wand quicker then Archie could
follow; Harry slapped his score card on his friend’s behind.

“Subiungo, Infragilis” he cast in quick succession, causing his score card to become stuck
to Archie’s behind and unbreakable.

“Hey, what the hell Potter, I don’t swing that way!”

Harry shrugged and sat back down, enjoying watching Archie chase his own behind so he
could see his scores.

“Oh, goddamn it, has anyone got a bloody mirror?” Archie asked in exasperation. A
fourth year girl handed him her pocket mirror that he used to see the score sheet on his
behind. Many of the students laughed at the blushing boy who was awkwardly twisting
around and trying to catch the contents of the score sheet on his ass.

“Hah, victory is mine Potter! It says here you’re seventh!” he said smugly.

Harry grinned, to Archie’s confusion “That’s a ‘1’ you idiot, you’re holding the mirror on an
angle” several of the students who overheard the declaration hurried over to see the
scoresheet themselves, much to Archie’s horror.

“Look at it this way Archades, you’re finally getting girls to stare at your bum” he said with
a grin at the still flushed boy.

“Laugh it up Potter! Straight O’s or not I’m still saying I let you ride my coattails to that ‘O’
in Potions!”

Harry grinned smugly at his friend who was still probably in denial. While they were scored
in a numerical way to allow for easier ranking, they only see their scores with a letter
grade designation; ‘O’ being the best and meaning Outstanding followed by ‘E’ for
exceeds expectations, ‘A’ for acceptable, ‘P’ for Poor, ‘D’ for dreadful and ‘T’ for troll.
There was a rumour that any Ravenclaw that gets below an ‘A’ for any class was kicked
out of the house but that theory was never tested as the mandatory study groups made
sure that neverhappened.

The room hushed when the portrait opened allowing Professor Flitwick to enter “Ah, I
see everyone’s seen their results then, congratulations!” he squeaked before chuckling
and removing Harry’s scoresheet from Archie’s behind, much to his relief.

“I do believe you can find a better place for such a wonderful score card Mr. Potter!”
chirped the tiny wizard merrily.

Harry nodded in agreement “Yes, I think Stephanie’s behind would be much better” he
agreed, as if he was some sage making a wise call.

“Do it and die Potter!” Archie roared while everyone chuckled.

Flitwick clapped his hands and reached into his robe pocket “For the second to seventh
years, I’m sure you know the drill, for those un informed first year students, you should
know that the number one ranked student of each year received a special gift from me
should they be in Ravenclaw” he said merrily, chuckling when a random seventh year
shouted in the back ‘when aren’t they?’ cockily.

“Quite, quite, so come and collect your gift, a 50 galleon git voucher for ‘Flourish and
Blotts’ good until the end of next year!” he said with excitement. Seven separate
students, it really did seem Ravenclaw took the top in every year, approached the tiny
man, including Harry, to receive their gift certificates.

“You’ve all earned some rest, so have fun for the rest of the evening until the feast tonight!
I’ll see you then children!” he chirped before leaving.

Harry walked alongside Archie to the great hall for the end of year feast. The feast was a
time all Ravenclaws looked forward to; being the intellectually superior of the four houses,
this was their time to shine and claim the house cup. Ravenclaw had claimed the house
cup for the previous five years in a row successfully, using their superior smarts to claim
as many points in class as possible to make this possible, it was something they all took
pride in as a house.

Harry was knocked out of his thoughts when he walked around the corner and had the
wind knocked out of him when someone walked straight into him.

Regaining his bearings, Harry stood up and dusted himself off; however, as he was going
to help the careless person up, he noticed they were already standing, with a cruel smirk
on their face as their coal black eyes shone with glee.

“Potter, 7 points from Ravenclaw for not watching where you’re going” he said smoothly
before stalking off, his robes billowing behind him.

Archie remained blissfully unaware of the blatant unfairness of the decision, opting to
follow behind his friend and continue to believe Snape could do no wrong.

Oh well, not like it mattered.

“Yes, welcome students to the end of the school year, and what a wonderful year it has
been!” boomed the loud and cheerful voice of Albus Dumbledore, their headmaster “I
hope you all bear with an old man’s ramblings for a short while yet while I make a few
necessary announcements; I promise you will be sinking your teeth into a large delicious
feast soon enough” he declared, eyes twinkling as he stood from his chair in the middle of
the head table.

“First, I would like us all to thank Professor Robards on a wonderful year of teaching
Defence Against the Dark Arts, unfortunately for us, his wife will be giving birth soon to a
lovely child, I’m sure, so he will be unable to return to us next year. Can I ask for a round
of applause for Professor Robards in thanks and congratulations?” he said cheerfully as
the majority of the school clapped politely for him while the normally scarred face of said
professor was covered in a blush.

“Ah, now there’s the matter of the house cup” the headmaster announced cheerfully
while the entire hall lapsed into silence “In fourth place, Gryffindor, with two hundred
and seventy points, a wonderful effort!” he said, not surprising anyone, the Gryffindors
already knew of their low score.

“In third place…” he paused, with a large smile on his face as the students leaned in
closely “Hufflepuff with three hundred and fifty two points” he announced. The puffs all
cheered their own achievement while everyone else in the room gave polite applause also.

“In second place, with an impressive score…Ravenclaw house with four hundred and
forty nine points!” at the declaration, the Ravenclaws all went silent while Silver and
green banners magically appeared from the ceiling and cheers erupted from the snake’s table.

“Which obviously means our winners this year, Slytherin house by the narrowest of
margins with four hundred and fifty points!” he announced as the Slytherins continued to cheer.

Harry had to try really hard not to laugh at the dumfounded look on his friend’s face. His
hero had literally robbed them of their rightfully earned house cup mere minuted before
it was going to be awarded to them.

“And with that, enjoy the feast and your summers!” he said with a clap of his hands as
the tables filled with mouth watering food “I hope to see all of your come September
eager to learn and begin another year at Hogwarts!”

Harry took one last look at Hogwarts from Hogsmeade station before boarding the
express to make his way back to London.

“Got any plans for the summer?” Archie asked Cedric who had been in a conversation
about all the ‘pretty’ girls in their year while making their way over to the station.

“My father got us tickets for the Quidditch world cup in Tokyo” he said with some pride
“I’ll probably do my homework as quick as possible and then take an international portkey
over to watch the tournament” he said with a huge grin. Amos Diggory, Cedric’s father
worked at the ministry and seemed to have many connections in high places.

“Oh, you’re so lucky! I wish I could go…” Archie trailed off, looking to Stephanie on his
right who just glared at him “but I would much rather spend my time with my beautiful
Stephy-poo” he amended with a chuckle, earning another knee in the groin for his trouble.

“You know, you’re going to cause permanent damage to him one day if you keep doing
that?” Harry warned, amusement lacing his voice as he looked at the amusing sight of
Archie rolling around on the floor in pain.

“He’ll get over it” the Slytherin girl said with a shrug.
“I think she just uses that as an excuse to cop a feel personally” Cedric said in a loud
whisper, with every intention of having Stephanie hear him. Said boy had to dodge
another flying knee of doom directing at his very own groin.

“Or not” he said with a grin, running ahead to avoid the girl’s wrath.

“Hey Harry!” Harry heard someone call from behind him. Turning around, he was met with
a familiar head of pink hair that could only by Nymphadora Tonks.

“I just got a letter from my mum, she says she’s be glad to have you and Mr. Lupin over
during the summer to discuss your problem, just call ahead during the weekend, it should
be fine” she said with a smile. Harry nodded in thanks and bid the girl farewell.

He was ready to go home and spend time with his most precious people again.
Chapter: 7
Chapter 08: The Wizengamot

Harry Potter could be found on this night in the middle of July seated at one of the many
newly furnished tables at ‘Moony Nights’ with several tomes spread open at random
pages surrounding him.

Immediately upon returning to their new home in the inn after his first year at Hogwarts,
Harry spent most of his first night going over his thoughts of Hogwarts, his results, his
friends and opinions of his teachers with Remus. He had also related the information
about Tonks’s parents to the werewolf.

“Mrs. Tonks said she’d see us and possibly represent us if we’re going to take any action
against the Ministry” Harry has informed his guardian.

“Andy?” Remus asked with a confused frown “She’s a lawyer now?” he asked, still confused.

“Nymphadora mentioned something about you two being friends back during the first
war” Harry commented thoughtfully “She and her husband run a Law firm based in
Chichester Alley over near Manchester” he informed “Mrs. Tonks is the solicitor while her
husband takes care of all the courtroom work” he paused “they have a good reputation
that stems from their impressive win loss ratio” he began “Most neutral and wealthy
families hire them for their services; Archades was actually the one to mention the
Zabinis having hired them on more then one occasion.”

Remus looked thoughtful for a moment before frowning “I won’t be able to afford them
and I refuse to take any more money from you, I feel bad enough as it is…” he was
stopped when Harry waved his concerns off.

“Shut up will you?” Harry said, sending a glare at the man “If you must, look at it like this”
he paused, making sure Remus was listening “I’ve already put a large amount of my money
into this place, what sense would it make for me to not provide more for legal support if
by not doing so it will fail? Do you suggest I throw away my money and abandon this
investment?”

“I know what you mean…but I just…”

“But nothing Remus, I know how you feel about charity, but I’m trying to help you here so
just accept it okay?” seeing Remus look dejected, Harry decided to go easy on him
“Besides, you can just add this to the fees later on that you want to pay me back.”

“We don’t even know this will be successful Harry…” he said, sounding dejected, making
Harry groan in frustration.

“You can be so annoying sometimes!” Harry said sounding frustrated, before calming
down so he could continue “there has never, and I mean ever, been an establishment
that can offer a safe haven for ‘dark creatures’ in England” he informed “I looked it up
when you first sent me the letter, the only thing remotely close to this place in all of
Europe would be a vampire safe house in Romania that doubles as a blood bank, and
even then, the vampires have to go through heavy security checks if they want safety or
blood” he said, in exasperation “Moony Nights is just what the dark creature community
has been hoping for ever since prejudice has become common place in the magical world”
he paused, sipping his water before continuing “if anything, you’ll most likely find that you
won’t have enough room to house all of your guests, which is probably why you’ll
probably want to consider expanding underground like Gringotts, that and hire a staff of
house elves.”

Remus looked shocked at the information about no-one else having tried this before,
ever, in Europe – it sounded extremely unlikely, so he voiced his thoughts.

“I never said they haven’t tried” Harry corrected “there have been several attempts in
Russia, Belgium, Sweden, Holland, Italy and Greece but they are all, at some point in their
creation, stopped before opening” he said, reciting what he had learned from his research.

“What luck will we have opening then?” Remus asked, sounding dejected again. Harry
smiled slightly when Remus included him in their planning like this, it made him feel needed
and respected “I mean, England is probably the worst country in Europe and the least
lenient when it comes to accepting ‘dark creatures’”.

“We have an advantage over the others” Harry stated “The minister is an idiot, plain and
simple, and he also has idiots working in his administration, one of whom is the very
same woman who vetoed your request for warding and thus, construction and opening
of ‘Moony Nights’.”

“I can understand Fudge” he said slowly “his ambition is the only reason he ever became
minister, ruthless as the rest of them but sadly, only possessing the brain power of a
troll” they both snickered at that “but how will that help us? He’ll just be more adamant
about keeping us closed, given his well known views of the ‘dark creature’ population” he
said, sounding exasperated.

“We can discuss it with Mrs. And Mr. Tonks when we visit for dinner tomorrow night” he
answered “however, Delores Umbridge will be the key to winning this case in my opinion,
we just need to attack her and make her look bad” he said, “make her look bad enough,
Fudge will do whatever he can to distance himself from her and help his public image, even
if that means going against her.”

Remus couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. Trust Harry to find the simplest and most
efficient way to get things done, even if he had to take down a few high ranking ministry
officials to do so.

Harry heard Remus coming down the stairs finally, after having had to wait an hour for
the man to get ready. The man had decided with simple dark grey slacks, a tight black
shirt and a dinner jacket matching his pants in colour. The only way you would be able to
tell he was a wizard was the fact that he still chose to wear his black dragon hide shoes
which looked enough like leather to not be noticeable. Harry had to admit that he looked
almost handsome, as if he were trying to impress someone, which amused him.

“You’re aware we are going to Misses and Mister Tonks’ house tonight right?” Harry asked
with amusement laced in his voice.

Remus looked down at his clothes in confusion “Is there something wrong with what I’m
wearing?”

Harry chuckled and waved him off “No, no, quite the opposite in fact.”
Remus shook his head in annoyance, nodding at Harry’s choice in clothes. Cargo pants, a
tight tee shirt, denim jacket and his favourite high tops. The boy had also removed the
glamour hiding his three piercings he usually left on during the school year to avoid
trouble revealing two diamondstuds, one in each lobe, and a simple white gold hoop in his
upper left ear.

“You comment on my dress, what’s with the diamonds?”

Harry looked unconcerned by the comment “What? I think they look good” he said with a
shrug “I also got them enchanted at Gringotts to inform me if something I am about to
eat has any foreign substances in it.”

Remus looked thoughtful for a moment “I always wondered how that worked…”

“They heat up when they sense it, it’s only enough to warn me, not enough to burn me, I
tested it out already” he said automatically as they began to walk out of the inn.

“No, I mean how is it that the charm can tell if a certain substance in a food is foreign and
simply not part of the ingredients itself…” he said with a grin, faking a thoughtful look.

Harry froze mid step and turned slowly to Remus, a puzzled frown on his face “That…is
something I’ll need to ask the goblins about one day…lets just chalk it up to magic and be
done with it…”

Remus grinned “For now” Harry couldn’t help but agree. The two exited the inn and
Remus placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder before they disappeared with a loud ‘pop’.

The house they had appeared before looked to be in the middle of London suburbia. It
wasn’t so late that the street was bathed in darkness, so they were able to see fairly far
down the street after they exited the alleyway they had appeared in, courtesy of
Nymphadora who had given them instructions on how to get to their house. The house
and the others on the street were eerily similar, probably all done by the same architect,
built with brick and black roof tiles.

Harry noticed, with amusement, that of all the houses down the street, the Tonks’s
house was the only one without a car parked out front, but, surprisingly, their garden was
definitely the best looking with neatly trimmed hedges, beautiful flower gardens and lush
green grass; odd for a family who would barely spend much of their time at home given
their professions or status.

“You ready?” Remus asked by his side, the duo not really feeling out of place given that
their last house was in a suburb not unlike this one.

“Yeah, and before I forget” Harry said, leaning closer to the man “Nymphadora, she’ll be
the girl we see, around seventeen years old, she hates it when people shorten her name
and butcher it” he said, mentally cackling at his brilliant prank idea “you want to use her
full name whenever talking to her, just to be safe and all.”

Not thinking he would be pranked at a meeting such as this, he thought nothing of it and
nodded in agreement “Seventeen already? I remember when Nymphadora was a little
five year old running around and causing trouble whenever I saw her at…well, never
mind that…” he cut off as a dark look came across his face.
Harry took note of this and new he was talking about his godfather, he knew better then
to press the issue though – that betrayal had left deep wounds in the old wolf.

Harry rang the doorbell as Remus pat himself down, dusting off an imaginary speck of dirt
which was stopped when Harry swiftly kicked him in the shin when he saw the door
opening to reveal a brown haired man with a kind, yet tired looking face and grey eyes.

“Ah, you must be Remus Lupin” the man said, addressing Remus and shaking his hand
before he turned to Harry “and you’re Harry Potter, Dora has told as a fair bit about you,
it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Ted Tonks.”

Harry shoot his hand with a firm grip and nodded politely “Likewise, what did Nymphadora
say about me?” he asked, ignoring the man’s raised eyebrow as he did so.

“She’s told us how you’re helping her with her Auror training at school” he said, looking
thankfully at Harry “she has her heart set on that mentoring position with Alastor Moody
when she graduates, I’m sure your help is appreciated.”

“I do what I can” Harry said, knowing Remus wouldn’t be surprised as they had already
covered his dealings with the girl in their letters.

“Yes; to be honest, I’m quite surprised that a first year could help her at all to be honest”
he said, peering down at the emerald eyed boy “all I remember knowing at Hogwarts in my
first year was the levitation charm, amongst some other useless spells” he said with a chuckle.

Remus decided he’d put his two cents into the conversation, having stayed quiet since he
arrived “Harry’s always been interested in magic ever since he was little, he’s especially
skilled at Transfiguration and Charms and constantly reads advanced books as
independent study” Harry ignored the two as they talked about his academic prowess.

The man led the two of them into the living room where there was several couches
surrounding a large brick fireplace for them to sit in. Ted took out a bottle of whiskey and
poured a glass for Remus and himself while Harry sat patiently, letting the two talk while
he tuned them out and looked around the room. There were several regular muggle
photos around the room with the three members of the Tonks family at various
landmarks around the world; the Eiffel tower, great wall of China, the Leaning tower of
Pisa and Ayers Rock to name a few.

“Harry!” Remus barked, getting the boy’s attention.

“Sorry, I zoned out, you want something?” he asked, done with looking around the room.

“Actually, I was telling Ted about how you love football – Ted says he’s a fan too” he
said, motioning to the grinning fan.

“Oh? You who do you follow?” Harry asked, his interest having been piqued.

“Newcastle, I’ve been a fan all my life – I was devastated when I first went to Hogwarts
and found out I couldn’t watch the games and hear the results. Who do you follow?”

“Arsenal” he replied with a grin “I know how you feel though, luckily Remus sends me the
muggle paper with his letters letting me have the results, even if they are a few weeks
old, at least I know” he said, before grinning again “I do believe Henry ran circles
around Newcastle the last time they met, best player in the world in my opinion…”
Remus smiled as the two began to argue in good fun about Football, the one, non
academic, subject he could talk about for hours. This lasted for several minutes until a
tall, beautiful, brown haired woman with dark eyes and aristocratic features walked into
the room sporting a trey of tea and a soft drink for Harry.

“I’m telling you, if you guys ever lose Shearer, you’re done for…” Harry trailed off, he too
finally noticing their new guest.

“Hello Remus, and you must be Harry” he said, her soft features relaxing into a smile “I’m
surprised Ted hasn’t kicked you out yet; Insulting Alan Shearer is a cardinal offence in his
book” she said, grinning at her husband who crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

“I was about to, but I remembered we’re here to talk business, regardless of this poor
lad’s sorry knowledge of football” he said with a grin. Harry ignored the jab in favour of
introducing himself to Mrs. Tonks.

“Harry Potter ma’am, you’re daughter speaks highly of you” he introduced, taking her
offered hand and brushing his lips against her fingers, as customary in pureblood
tradition. Harry knew Andromeda Tonks was once a Black, a family who believed in blood
supremacy quite a lot and usually always sided with dark wizards in history, so she would
appreciate the formalities, regardless if she went against her family and married a muggle-born

Andromeda fake sighed as she fanned herself and grinned at her husband “Quite the
charmer this lad is, sorry Teddy, I’ve always dreamed about having my very own boy-toy,
I can tell he’ll be quite a strapping young man in a few years” the beautiful woman joked
as Teddy puffed up in fake indignation.

“All you damn Potters are the same!” he ranted “Taking all the women for yourselves, this
one’s mine! Mine I tell yeh!” he yanked his wife down to the couch and away from Harry
who just rolled his eyes in amusement at their antics while Remus chuckled.

“Where’s Nymphadora? I figured she’d be bothering me by now” Harry wondered out loud,
only for his question to be answered by a few loud thumps followed by a much louder one
and a girl cursing from the other room.

“In here Dora” Ted called, shaking his head at his daughter’s antics. Tonks entered the
room, Harry noted, looking much prettier then she had ever looked at school with purple
hair and orange eyes.

“Hey Harry…” she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Remus sitting beside him.
Ted and Andromeda shared identical grins when the young girl blushed brightly at the
sight of the werewolf, though, that didn’t last long when he opened his mouth.

“You must be Nymphadora?” Remus said with a smile, which changed into a look of
horror when he was suddenly at the business end of her wand and blasted over the
couch with a weak blasting hex.

“Don’t call me that!” she shrieked “You put him up to that, didn’t you Potter?!” she said,
glaring angrily at him as Remus groaned from behind the couch and retook his seat,
eyeing the girl warily.

“I have no idea what you mean Nymphadora” he said, seeing her go for her wand, Harry
raised an eyebrow at her “so, are we going to continue our training next year
Nymphadora?” he asked, a grin on his face. The girl faltered in her draw before putting
it away while glaring at the boy.

“None of you can call me that except for him, Tonks will do” she said, still glaring at the
boy “that is until his usefulness has served its purpose” she finished with an evil grin
which Harry responded to with a thoughtful ‘hum’.

“So, should we get down to business then?” Andromeda asked, as Remus cleared his
head of the cobwebs after Tonks’s attack, glaring at Harry in the process who was sitting
there looking smug as ever.

“Yes, well, Delores Umbridge has denied my request personally to set up professional
wards around Moony Night, and without the wards, we can’t open” he explained in a nutshell.

“What’s Moony Nights?” Ted asked with a confused frown.

“Ah, its an inn slash tavern slash safe house for everyone, but mainly dark creatures, set
up in Knockturn Alley” he elaborated.

Ted and Andromeda shared a look of understanding as Tonks looked on in confusion “I

don’t see the problem…”

“Dora, the person who denied Remus’s request to place wards around his new property,
Delores Umbridge, is the senior undersecretary to Minister Fudge and is avidly against all
‘half-breeds’ of any species, going as far as to pass bills in the Wizengamot restricting
their rights and powers in the Wizarding world” Ted explained “she’s a foul woman who
somehow…”

Harry covered his mouth as he coughed something that sounded suspiciously like “Fudge”
which earned chuckles all around the room.

“…yes, she somehow got a position of power within the ministry and connections in high place

“This won’t be an easy case to win” Andromeda warned “you’re not the first person to
have an idea like this, only to fail” she said, sounding oddly serious, a contrast to her
behaviour before.

“I understand that, but I need to try, right? Besides, Harry had a fairly good idea that I
think would work if we had the material you would need…”

All eyes turned to the boy who leaned forward and pushed his spectacles up the bridge of
his nose as he began to explain “We all know Fudge is an idiot” he began “we can
manipulate him to pass the request for us, without having to fight for it if we play our
cards right…I think, if we crucify Umbridge…”

“Which we would be well within our rights to do as her character may have ‘impaired’ her
decision making abilities” Ted helpfully supplied.

“Yes, if we crucify her in front of so many important people in the Wizengamot, Fudge will
want to distance himself from her as much as possible to save face and keep his public
image as good as possible… that and surely Umbridge’s actions in the Wizengamot with her
restriction bills have caused some form of retaliation in the magical world that we can
blame her for…”
Andromeda smiled at Harry while Ted looked thoughtful “That’s surprisingly well thought
out and could very well work if we can find ant statistics that directly link Delores’s racist
bills to uprising in violence caused by ‘dark-creatures’… I’ll have Andromeda look into that.”

“Does that mean you’ll take the case?” Remus asked with excitement.

Ted chuckled, rising his whisky glass at the werewolf “Mr. Lupin, you seem to think I have
a choice in the matter” he said with another chuckle. Seeing Remus’s confused look, he
motioned towards his daughter “with the way Dora has been looking at you for the past
twenty minutes, I’m afraid she’ll hurt me if I did otherwise – Excuse me.”

The man wisely dived behind his couch as a mortified Nymphadora Tonks sent several
curses and jinxes at her father, some borderline harmful, as Remus blushed at the
attention and Andromeda chuckled at the sight.

Harry merely sat back in his chair sipping on the coke Andromeda had given him, thinking
of the trial that was to come.

The Ministry of Magic itself was an impressive structure that was built underground the
heart of London. Normally, there are two ways to enter the building, one would be to Floo
directly in to the Atrium and the other would be to use the visitor’s entrance which was a
simple red phone booth in an unremarkable street where one would have to type in the
code ‘M-A-G-I-C’ in numbers to gain access – not very original.

Harry, Remus and Ted arrived via the Floo and appeared in the Atrium. Harry’s feet
landed somewhat harshly on the hard wood floor after leaving the fireplace. He moved
out of the way so Remus and Ted could arrive without trouble as he looked around. The
ceiling was a weird peacock blue that was adorned with moving golden symbols and at
least 50 feet high, there were also two magnificent golden stair cases leading up to a
balcony that went around the huge room leading to some offices and bathrooms, most
likely. Down both sides of the hall, fireplaces were built into the walls. The left side
seemed to be for witches and wizards to arrive while the right side seemed to be used for
departures – Today seemed to be a busy day.

Harry followed Remus and Ted passed the ‘Fountain of Magical Brethren’ which had a
large feature in the centre of it. The golden statues depicting a Wizard, a Witch, a
Centaur, a Goblin and a House-elf, sprout water in the surrounding pool of water and
upon closer inspection, one could tell that the water coming from each statue had a
different colour to it and when combined in the pool, created a beautiful effect.

The there of them reached a large golden gate guarded by a single man who seemed to
be checking people’s identities, issuing badges and checking wands. As they waited in
line, Harry snorted in amusement at the large picture of Fudge overhead smiling at the
reporters asking him questions and flashing pictures, from memory, it looked to be the
picture that was on the front page of the ‘Prophet’.

“Wands please” he heard a voice say. Flicking his wrist, his wand was in his hand, as Ted
and Remus did the same, handing them over to the man.

“You can gather them on the other side, purpose of your visit tody at the Ministry of
Magic?” he asked in a bored tone, leading one to believe he had repeated the same
phrase too many times in his life.

“We’re here to attend the gathering of the Wizengamot” was Ted’s vague reply. He
received a nod and received three visitor badges that the three had to pin on their
coats. The two men were dressed in formal wizard’s robes while Harry decided to go more
‘muggle’ to make a statement, simply dressing in a dark cardigan, dark blue jeans a shirt
with tie matching his cardigan and his high tops. Remus had given him flack for it but he
didn’t care, he was out to make a statement on this backwards government and he was
sure his fashion sense would get their attention, especially if he was the heir to one of
the ancient and noble families.

After passing through the golden gate separating the atrium from the lifts leading to the
other floors of the Ministry, they stopped to look at the sign labelling each level. They
were going to the only floor that was above this one, level ten, where all of the
courtrooms for criminal and civil cases are held.

The elevator door opened allowing roughly a dozen people to enter, including Harry,
Remus and Ted. Harry also noticed several dozen paper aeroplanes charmed to fly and
most likely find someone enter also and hover in mid air.

Ted pressed the button for level 10 as the doors closed and took them up.

Once they arrived one the tenth floor, they were greeted with a room full of wizards and
witches. The room itself had a dungeon feel, which was amusing on its own considering it
was the highest level in the building, regardless if it was underground or not.

People waited around sitting in the supplied chairs or standing around and waiting
patiently as a plump witch with a large scroll would come out occasionally and call out a
number, which was immediately followed by someone new entering the court room.

The three had to wait for three whole hours before their number was called, which was
mainly spent with Harry discussing the theory behind silent casting with Remus and Ted,
who were surprisingly helpful on the subject.

“Number One hundred and twenty seven!” the witch yelled over the noise of the
gathered crowd who only increased in size since their arrival.

The courtroom itself consisted of a table in the middle of the room surrounded by an
elevated platform with numerous seats which the members of the Wizengamot court sat
at to hear the cases before them. The Wizengamot was made up of a small selection of
the Wizarding population, mainly Lords and Ladies of ancient and noble houses, however,
the problem with that was that no one could represent the muggleborn because it was
widely believed that they are not well informed enough on Wizarding politics to serve. Tell
that to Ted Tonks the lawyer…

Seated around on the raised platform were the witches and wizards who made up the
entire body of the Wizengamot, headed by their Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore. They
all wore plum coloured robes with an elaborate silver ‘W’ on their breasts and were
looking the epitome of ‘royalty’ as they sat above them and looked down on them as if
they were insignificant ants.

Ted strode confidently over to the provided oak table and took a seat. Remus took the
one provided next to him and Harry next to Remus. He covered the small smirk on his face
by interlacing his fingers together and resting them in front of his mouth - covering the
bottom half of his face in the process – as several of the more ‘proper’ witches and
wizards sneered at him or in his direction, though he did notice a toad like woman glaring
at Remus with something akin to hate in her eyes.
A grey haired, square-jawed woman wearing a monocle who looked to be presiding over
this case hefted her wand into the air causing a loud ‘bang’ to resound around the room
and everyone to become silent.

“We are here to hear the case of one Remus John Lupin who is appealing the decision
made by one Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic Cornelius
Fudge, to refuse Remus John Lupin the right to ward the premises of his new business”
she began in a commanding voice “The reason given by Madam Umbridge was that the
establishment that was to be warded is owned by a…” at this she paused and glared over
at the annoyingly smug toad woman who was smiling benignly down at them “dangerous
half-breed and if given the opportunity to ward such a large premises within Knockturn
Alley, could use said premises as a headquarters for his kind against the ministry.”

The absurdity of the claim almost made Harry scoff, but he didn’t think to underestimate
the stupidity of Wizarding kind.

“While the claims may be unfounded at best, there are laws against non-wizards owning
such large establishments and being allowed to ward them, what is the basis of this appeal,
this law was passed several years ago” the with said in a stern tone.

“Madam Bones” began Ted, as the woman gave a small smile to him; Harry figured they
must see a lot of each other given their jobs “I am appealing against the law in general that
disallows my client to run his own business.”

Seeing that he had everyone’s attention, he continued “I have no idea how this law was
passed by this honourable body, but apparently it has, and not only has it been
completely ineffective, its existence has only served to degrade the non-wizard
population and force them into a state of desperation…”

“Hem, hem” interrupted the woman “I don’t want to put words in your mouth Mister Tonks,
but it sounds awfully like you are saying the ministry are incompetent.”

“I’m sorry Delores for causing you to believe I would insinuate such a despicable thing” he
said, regret laced within his words “no, I was saying that the Minister and his staff” he
said, looking towards Umbridge coldly “are solely responsible for the murders of hundreds
of innocent people because of their bigoted and racist views and laws.”

Seeing the women turn an angry scarlet and the minister himself who was amongst the
elders of the Wizengamot begin to sputter in indignation he pressed on “You all, as a
body, passed a law that basically destroyed any possibility that someone like Mister Lupin
could lead a happy and prosperous life” he said, not allowing Umbridge to speak “how do
you expect to keep order in this country if you are oppressing an entire species of people
that make up a good percentage of our population?”

“You’ve made your point Mr. Tonks, please continue” interrupted Madam Bones before
things got out of hand.

“Madam Bones, since Madam Umbridge passed her bill on the restriction of Werewolf and
other half-breed rights, werewolf attacks have increased by 13, all of which were made
against the ministry’s Aurors trying to apprehend innocent half-breeds to be detained by
the ministry in accordance to said law, something I’m sure you’re aware of” he paused
“the passing of this law not only is a disgrace on its own, but it has resulted in innocent
wizard deaths, thereby, making Umbridge a murderer indirectly.”
“THEY MADE THEIR OWN CHOICE TO ATTACK LIKE THE FILTHY HALF-BREEDS THEY
ARE!” Umbridge suddenly yelled, having had enough of the attack on her character.

Ignoring her outburst completely, Ted continued “However, a bill cannot be passed
without the consent of the Minister, so the blame is not solely on Madam Umbridge, but
Minister Fudge also for allowing this to happen” he said; everyone turned to the minister
as he paled at the implications.

Seeing that it would be political suicide if he admitted to passing such laws which basically
forced the werewolf population to kill and rebel, he did the only thing available to him “I
did not knowingly pass such a bill, nor would I do so now if I knew of its contents, I am
disgusted with Madam Umbridge’s behaviour and beliefs.”

Umbridge looked murderous before turning her sickly sweet smile towards Remus “He
cannot get permission to erect the wards regardless” she said in her sugary high pitched
voice “even without the law restrictingwerewolf rights” she said, spitting the name of his
kind in disgust “there is still the law forbidden foreigners and non-wizards from erecting
wards on such a large scale on any property in the Ministry’s jurisdiction that has been in
effect since the last Goblin rebellion” she said, a victorious smirk on her face.

“Regrettably she is correct Mister Tonks” Madam Bones said with a sigh and a slight glare
towards Umbridge “we can pass a vote to abolish the ‘Werewolf civil rights restriction’ act
but we still cannot allow someone of half-breed status to erect wards less we grant the
Goblins another chance to rebel against the Ministry.”

“That’s fine Madam Bones, because a half-breed does not own the establishment named
‘Moony Nights’” Ted said with a grin, causing the hall to erupt in chaos.

“Order, order!” Bones yelled, sending off sparks from her wand.

“What was the point of this hearing if a werewolf does not own this establishment Mister
Tonks?” Bones asked, after calming everyone down.

“To have a ridiculous law abolished of course” Ted answered immediately “and I never
said Mister Lupin didn’t own the property named ‘Moony Nights’, however, he is merely a
partial owner not holding the majority shares.”

“He’s lying” Umbridge yelled “who is this mysterious owner then, if you’re going to insist
on spreading lies!”

His hands still covering the lower half of his face, Harry spoke up “That would be me.”

Instant silence was met by this claim as the Wizengamot only saw a boy dressed in muggle
clothing addressing them.

“The werewolf coerced a muggle to sponsor him? It is still futile, he is not a wizard!” she
yelled in triumph.

Harry stood from his chair and rounded the table, leaning against the heavy oak and
crossing his arms over his chest “Mister Lupin coerced me into nothing” he said, his voice
calm yet carrying across the entire room. Harry was pleased to see Dumbledore’s
eyebrows shoot up past his hairline in surprise before a small smirk appeared on his
bearded face “and I would advise against insulting the heir of the Most ancient and noble
house of Potter in the future, I can, and will do what I wish with my money” he said, still
staring Umbridge down.

Getting over the shock that this supposed muggle was indeed Harry Potter, the heir of
an extremely wealthy family, she sneered at him and continued “Regardless, you are not
of majority and cannot gain access to your family vaults; nice try boy, but you fail” she
said with a smirk.

Harry only tilted his head, knowing his lack of reaction was annoying her – she was
expecting him to explode like some fool child but nothing of the sort will happen today
“That may be true, but I can request the manager of my funds to make investments on
my behalf, and, should I chose to sell my controlling shares for a galleon after the wards
are erected, I’m afraid there’s nothing you or the ministry can do about it” he said,
deciding to rub salt in the wound.

“He’s obviously a dark wizard in training, supporting such filthy half-breeds!” Umbridge
yelled towards Bones, who was growing increasingly tired of the woman’s voice “Should
a werewolf gain control of such an establishment, there will be consequences, you must
see this!”

Ted decided to speak up again “Going by your logic and obvious distaste for dark wizards”
he said blandly “Master Malfoy should not be given the right to own any businesses
either” seeing the Malfoy head not even try to defend himself, he continued “a man who
is suspected, though supposedly cleared” he amended, when he saw Bones frown “to be
a criminal is allowed to run his businesses yet a man who is nothing short of an upstanding
citizen like Mister Lupin to be denied because he is a werewolf? It is a joke in itself” he
said, pausing before delivering his closing statement “The most dangerous criminal in the
last fifty years was indeed a wizard, yet we are here, arguing about dangerous
werewolves when said wizards are still running around today.”

There was silence in the room as Umbridge silently fumed, glaring silently at Harry,
Remus and Ted.

“The Wizengamot will require ten minutes to discuss the particulars of this case before
coming to a decision” Dumbledore said from his position at the head of the Wizengamot
while he secretly smiled down at the trio on the floor.

Unsurprisingly, ten minutes later returned a positive verdict, much to Remus’s delight.

On their way out, they were confronted by the toad women herself smiling pleasantly at
them, her wand gripped tightly in her right hand, the only indication that she was angry.

“You have made yourself an enemy today boy” she addressed Harry “humiliating me like
that in front of the Wizengamot, an enemy you will learn to respect and dread, I assure you.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he moved to approach the toad woman as Remus
put a comforting hand on his shoulder “Are you threatening me Delores?” he asked
dangerously and despite her earlier bravado, Umbridge couldn’t help but shiver.

“Just watch your back Potter, for a werewolf won’t always have it” she said, sneering at
him before storming off.

“Well” Remus said, trying to lift the mood “today was a success I think, would you and
your family like to come to Moony nights tonight Ted? I can give you a tour and we can
celebrate our victory, the wards should be done by then too.”

Ted smiled at Remus and nodded “I’m sure the girls would love that, I’ll see you tonight
Remus, I need to finish up some things here before leaving.”

The three shook hands and departed, proud that they had achieved something many
have dreamed of doing in the past.

Harry sat comfortably in his bunk in Ravenclaw tower, and honestly, he was glad to be
back. He had missed the regular crazy antics of Archades and Stephanie berating him for
seemingly nothing.

He has received several letters from Archades over the holidays, and surprisingly, a few
from Cedric and Stephanie too to which he had replied in kind – it was weird having friend
to correspond with over the summer holidays to him.

For the remainder of the holidays, after the trial, Harry had confronted Remus about
silent casting and advancing his Occlumency training, both of which he had no experience
in but he did aid in purchasing books about them.

Silent casting and Occlumency surprisingly somewhat went hand in hand. To cast a spell
silently, one only had to focus on the intent of the spell as they cast it; the actual
incantation was merely a means to verbally express one’s intent, which is remarkably
simpler for a young mind to comprehend. Though casting silently made mastering spells
much harder, Harry didn’t shy away from it and welcomed the challenge, vowing to learn
all his spells that way seeing it as a great advantage.

The next stage of Occlumency was the step Harry was most interested in, shielding one’s
mind from external influences and intrusions instead of clearing it. When one’s mind is
shielded, they can become impervious to controlling spells, substances and enchantments
like the Imperious curse, a Love Potion or the allure of a Siren’s song. It also allowed
someone to outright block access to their mind, which is helpful during a duel if you are
facing off against a Legilimens who would simply read your surface thoughts to see what
spells you intend to cast next.

This step of Occlumency was the most difficult however because it required a small
amount of wandless magic to erect magical shields within the mind to protect it, that
didn’t mean Harry wouldn’t have it mastered as soon as possible though.

Looking over to the sleeping Archades, he decided to follow his lead and get to bed also;
tomorrow would be a big day.
Chapter: 8
Chapter 09: The ‘Boy-who-lived’

Harry mechanically sliced the pieces of puffer-fish eyes like he had done for numerous
other potions he had brewed with Archades in the past with a soft sigh as they worked in
silence. Potions hadn’t changed since their first lesson with Professor Snape in regards to
the overly bitter Potion master’s attitude towards him and Archades’s almost fanatical
desire to impress the man; often resulting in angry glares from his brewing partners when
he dared impose on the professor and cause their house points.

Honestly, he could sympathise with the two of them, how dare he breathe?

As everyone in the class reached the stage of the brewing process where all that was
left was to let the potion simmer over a fire for forty minutes, Snape begun with the
theory potion of the class.

As he silently began to take notes down from the lecture, he noticed Archades become
overly interested in something the Professor was saying.

“Any true Potions Master would not only be able to brew his or her own concoctions to
absolute perfection under any circumstances, but they would also have their very own
supply of rare and powerful ingredients in their stores” he said, almost causing Harry to
groan in frustration; this couldn’t end well.

Raising his hand, Archades spoke “Why’s that sir?”

Snape, Harry noticed, had taken somewhat of a liking for the brown haired youth – and by
‘liking’, he meant that he merely tolerated his existence that little bit more then other
students’ - , which was why he didn’t kill him whenever he spoke out of turn, like how he
assumed he would be if he tried the same thing. It seemed that the Potions professor
enjoyed answering Archie’s questions as much as the boy liked to ask them.

“For a number of reasons” Snape began in a drawl “one would be that one would normally
have to conquer or befriend a dangerous or rare magical creature to obtain any sort of
rare or powerful ingredients from them; such an action would obviously only be a
positive towards any critic’s assessment of their skills” he paused for a little while, noting
with satisfaction that everyone was writing this down “also, those with the greater
stockpile of rare and powerful ingredients can obviously, much more readily, brew any
concoction when required; making them much more sought after” he finished.

“What kinds of ingredients would be labelled as ‘rare and powerful’ sir?” Archie asked,
the hunger for that knowledge clearly visible in his eyes.

“Anything from a creature the ministry deems dangerous would be on that list” he said while
circling the room and checking on the still simmering potions “a lot of the creatures on the
Forbidden Forest would classify as rare or dangerous, not to mention the magical plants
that grow and need to be collected at specific times of the year which only adds to their
rareness…yes, the Forbidden forest would be a good place to begin with obtaining your
own ingredients stockpile” he commented distractedly as he worked to fix a Hufflepuff
student’s potion before it would explode. Harry resisted the urge to bang his head
against the table in annoyance; did Snape have to say that?!

Harry, followed by Archades, made his way to the first floor after their Charms lesson
with one purpose in mind. Stopping at the door of the office he wished to be at, he
knocked three times, hoping the occupant was inside.

The door opened to reveal Madam Hooch who upon realizing who had knocked grinned
down at Harry knowingly and ushered him inside.

“Do I even need to ask what it is you are here for Mr. Potter?” she drawled, her hawk like
eyes seemingly piercing his soul.

“I’m here to ask for permission to try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team” he
confirmed. Neither of the two occupants of the room seemed to be all that surprised;
Archie having figured it out when he realized where they were going, and Hooch having
expected this since she first saw the boy fly last year.

“Do you have a signed permission slip from your parent or guardian?” she asked, wincing
slightly when she realized what she had said. Harry seemed to pay her no mind and fished
out a slip of parchment from his slacks for Hooch’s inspection.

Hooch quickly read through the Quidditch application form, nodding at random intervals
where either Harry or Remus had signed before she fetched her wand and spelled the
parchment away.

“Well, everything seems to be in order” she said with a smile “The Ravenclaw tryouts are
this Saturday at five o’clock, make sure you’re there on time if you want to make an
impression” she advised. Harry nodded in thanks and was about to leave before Hooch
placed a hand on his shoulder to halt him for a moment.

“Do you mind me asking what position you’re trying for Mr. Potter?” she asked, genuinely
curious. Most of the young kids these days wanted all the glory and went for seeker,
but something about this boy just seemed different.

“Chaser” was his firm and determined reply. Hooch grinned and nodded in approval.

“I have a good feeling about you Mr. Potter” she said, still grinning “Quidditch is in your
blood, you’re father was one of the best Chasers Hogwarts had seen in centuries, I hope
he passed his skill onto you – Slytherin has held the cup for far too long in my opinion” she
said with a brief chuckle.

“No wonder you kept asking all those questions about Chasers and Seekers during the
first match we watched together last year…well, I hope you’re good because otherwise,
Gryffindor is just going to trounce everyone this year” Archie supplied unhelpfully.

Hooch grinned again “More like Weasley will trounce everyone this year Mr. Montague”
she corrected as the two chuckled at their little joke.

“I’ll try my best Madam” Harry said, dismissing himself and Archades with a nod before
leaving the office and heading towards the great hall for lunch.

“You know, you never told me what you did during the summer, I told you about going to
the Zabini’s beach house with Stephanie and her family remember?” Archie asked, as the
two walked to their destination, weaving in and around the throng of students heading to
the same place.

“Nothing much, I did a lot of studying” he admitted, causing Archie to groan.

“You’re even a bookworm on your holidays? Hopeless!” he moaned in dissatisfaction. Harry

didn’t feel the need to let him know that only half of it was actual book work, there was
no need for Archie to know he could perform magic outside of school.

“I also had to attend a trial at the Ministry so my uncle could open his inn” he began
“some woman by the name of Umbridge tried to stop its opening by vetoing the request to
place wards up on the property, we went to trial and won, it was quite the experience.”

Archie’s eyes seemed to gain an understanding after seemingly going into thought
“Stephanie’s dad mentioned something about that” Archie said, in reminiscence “the
Moony Nights, right?”

Harry nodded “I take it he was there during the trial on the Wizengamot then?”

“Yeah, he had to leave the beach house a few times for Ministry work; that was one of
the days. I didn’t get any of the papers, but apparently the trial caused a big commotion
in the Ministry and the country in general” Archie said, scratching his cheek in thought.

“’Moony Nights’ purpose is to act as a sanctuary for all sorts of half-breeds and intelligent
magical creatures that are otherwise oppressed in someway by the ministry” he began
“My uncle is a werewolf so he wouldn’t discriminate against anybody by not letting them
in, whether they be Wizard, Werewolf, Veela, Vampire or whatever” he said with a shrug.

Archie gained a faraway look as his eyes watered slightly. Harry barely noticed this
before the usually jovial boy covered it up quickly with his standard grin “It sounds like a
marvellous idea; I might come by during the holidays next time with Stephanie if I can;
where is it?”

“Knockturn Alley of course” Harry answered, filing away Archie’s strange behaviour for
another time “It would be a hassle if bigoted people protested against its existence for
bringing ‘dangerous’ creatures into their lives, so we had to avoid any main alleys;
Knockturn Alley is perfect.”

Archie frowned in thought as they rounded a corner, almost crashing into someone in the
process.

“Oh, hey Harry” greeted the pink haired which with a brilliant smile.

“Nymphadora” Harry greeted likewise with a nod as they paused in their trek towards the
great hall “this is Archades Montague, Archades, this is Nymphadora Tonks.”

Ignoring the murderous look on the seventh year’s face Archie saw fit to put in his two cents.

“Potter!” he exclaimed in mock outrage “fraternizing with beautiful older women behind my
back, how dare you!”

Harry rolled his eyes, shooting Tonks a look which clearly said ‘he’s not with me’.

Tonks giggled at the boy’s antics and shook his hand “You heard my name from Harry, but
don’t call me Nymphadora, it usually gets people hexed” she said with a smile.
Archades chuckled as he shook her hand “Don’t worry, I understand, he calls ‘Archades’”
he said, saying the name with a wince “everyone else calls me Archie.”

“Tonks, everyone calls me Tonks” Tonks introduced likewise. Harry was just ignoring the
two; he quite enjoyed annoying them by using their full first names thank you very much.

“How’s ‘Moony Nights’ coming along then Harry?” Tonks asked as all three of them
started towards the great hall again “My mum apologizes for not showing up to the trial
by the way, she had other clients to attend to on the same day, besides, my dad’s the
one that takes care of the courtroom stuff anyway” she apologized.

Harry waved it off, already knowing how Andromeda and Ted Tonks worked their law
firm “The Goblins, knowing what the place’s purpose was were quick to erect the wards
once we got the permit” he began as his company listened with rapt attention.

“What kind of wards did they put up?” Archie asked wanting to know the spells used to
protect public establishments involved.

“Anti-apparation wards, Anti-portkey wards, Anti-aggression wards, Structure

strengthening wards, Anti-trespasser wards, and Object restriction wards to name a few
off the top of my head” he listed off to his two confused companions.

“I know what the first two do” Tonks began slowly “obviously, but what about the rest? I
never took runes or took much interest in warding before you ask” she said, glaring at
Harry, daring him to say something. Archie looked just as interested as Tonks did about
the topic.

“Well, the Anti-aggression wards prevent anyone who means harm to an occupant of
Moony Nights from entering the premises or removes someone who intend harm that is
already in there” he began “that one is fairly essential for dealing with some of the less
intelligent werewolves and vampires who insist on keeping up with that centuries old
feud” he explained, gaining understanding nods from his two companions. It is generally
known that the younger and less educated werewolves and vampires sometimes insist
on honouring a feud that was all but dealt with as soon as it began “the Structure
strengthening wards are what Gringotts place around all of their valued clients vaults to
stop anyone smashing through the walls or floors to get into them” he said, pausing
slightly to gather his thoughts as they reached the great hall “for Moony Nights, it
basically means that no one can destroy the premises from the outside physically or
magically, and if they choose to do so from the inside, the anti-aggression wards will just
kick them out.”

Tonks had a thoughtful expression on her face at that explanation “You can’t have that
ward work on doors though form memory” she supplied what’s to stop someone from
smashing the doors down?”

“Every door and the hinges they rest on are enchanted by the goblins as well to be
unbreakable” Harry explained “only an extremely powerful wizard or gifted ward-breaker
could break them down, but I was hoping to amend that sometime in the future” he admitted.

“Anti-trespasser wards allow whoever they are keyed into to add ‘undesirables’ into them
and restrict certain magical signatures from entering again” he explained with a shrug,
most establishments had that ward on them “and object restriction wards basically
prevent anyone bringing anything like silver or any other substance that it is keyed to
prevent from allowing within.”

“Wow…that’s so cool” Archie said in awe, listening to the power of warding magic.

Harry nodded “I agree, I’ve been reading up on wards over the holidays, it’s definitely
something I’d be interested in learning.”

“I’m off to my table Harry, when can we continue our little sparring sessions we were
doing last year?” she asked, ignorant to the incredulous look on Archie’s face.

“Saturday night sounds good, I’ve been practising so it should be interesting” Harry
admitted, he too ignoring to the sputtering of his friend until he voiced his thoughts.

“Is ‘sparring sessions’ your codename for ‘sex’?” he asked in an overly loud whisper.
Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance as a giggling Tonks left him
with a perverted idiot.

“Where’s Stephanie when you need her…I” he mumbled under his breath.

“You call for me?” a feminine drawl came from behind the two Ravenclaws. As Harry
spotted the very girl he was thinking about walking into the great hall his grin turned
insidious as he sicked an outraged Stephanie on Archades. Amidst the yelps of pain and
pathetic whimpering of his friend, he had to admit that it was good to be back at Hogwarts.

“You are all here because you think you’re good enough to try out for the Quidditch
team” the voice of Robert Ellwood, Ravenclaw Chaser and team captain called out to the
dozen or so Quidditch hopefuls standing on the Quidditch pitch. The weather was perfect,
in Harry’s opinion, for Quidditch; not too hot, not too cold and the sun just setting so
magical lights were switched on to illuminate the field.

“As a Chaser, I will be taking those of you who wish to try out for the two vacant
positions we currently have due to the graduations of Elliot and Grimsby. Seeker tryouts
will be held by Spencer, Beater tryouts by Polack and Keeper tryouts by Worthington” he
said in a loud and clear voice, pointing to the mentioned people for each position “we
only have vacancies for Chasers this season, but if you impress your trainer enough, you
will be placed on the reserve team or taken note of to replace the players currently
occupying that position when they graduate” he finished, looking at the determined faces
of the students before him “Any questions?”

Seeing that no one raised their hands, he blew the whistle he had hanging from his neck
and everyone broke up into separate groups. Harry followed Ellwood over to a box that
held two dozen or so Quaffles and stood at attention, a ‘Comet Two Sixty’ provided by
the school held by his side. The only other person he recognized in the chaser tryouts
was Roger Davis, another of the boys who showed promise on a broom last year.

Ellwood kicked open the box revealing the Quaffles to the group before turning to them
“Your first task for the caser tryouts is to each catch one of these Quaffles that I pass to
you in mid air and shoot at one of the three hoops our reserve keeper is guarding” he
explained, motioning to the fourth year hovering in front of the goals “Know that you’re
not expected to score; I will be judging your form, grip, throwing strength and vision.
Mount up and fly towards the marker in the sky, you are to fly straight towards the
goals when your name is called to receive the Quaffle before making your shot from no
closer then thirty yards of the hoops” he continued to explain, and sure enough, there
were coloured smoke clouds as markers in the sky for them to use; a red smoke cloud for
their starting position and a thin secular shaped cloud surrounding the hoops showing the
thirty yard point from every position around.

The five rookies flew to the red cloud and waited for their names to be called. The first to
be called was a fourth year girl Harry didn’t recognize who launched off from her starting
position on the whistle, caught the Quaffle somewhat difficultly after a little fumble and
shot the ball from thirty yards on the mark, only narrowly missing the mark.

Roger Davis was the next and as soon as his name was called, he zoomed off at a speed
much quicker then the first applicant. When the Quaffle was thrown at him, it was a little
behind him and not in front like he had hoped due to the speed he had flown at; to rectify
the problem, he yanked on his broom yard and did a backwards loop so he could catch the
ball before shooting from thirty five yards and narrowly missing the wide hoop. Harry was
impressed and Ellwood seemed to be also, that shot totally had the keeper beat; he just
needed to be more accurate.

The third on fourth Chaser applicants were completely unremarkable after Roger’s
performance, so it was no surprise that Ellwood didn’t seem all that eager when he called
Harry’s name. Launching off as fast as his borrowed broom would take him, Harry rushed
towards the goal waiting for his pass. Unfortunately, the pass was coming in too low
seeing as Harry had flew wider away from the goal so he could pull keeper to the near
hoop before he shot. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Harry tried something he had read
in a Quidditch plays book Archie had let him borrow before this and hoped it would work.

Ellwood watched with a frown as the Quaffle was losing its altitude before it would hit its
mark; however he was shocked at what Potter did to rectify this. The second year rolled
off his broom to his right, away from him, with his arm reach out low to catch the ball.
Harry was completely upside down on his broom when he caught the Quaffle with his legs
interlocked on the broomstick to remain flying, however, he was not yet done. Using the
inertia from his roll, he came back up on the opposite side of his broom and hurled the ball
with an outward spin that completely fooled the keeper. The Quaffle flew over the
keeper’s head and curled into the far hoop after ricocheting from the inside portion of the
metal hoop.

There was silence as Harry lowered himself to the ground until two students began to
cheer from the stands. Harry purposefully looked away from Tonks and Archie who, he
was sure, were deliberately trying to embarrass him with their idiocy, though he failed to
hide a small smile that was plastered on his face due to the adrenaline rush of what he
had just pulled.

The remaining two trials for the Chaser try-outs were a passing test and a defending
test where they simply had to throw as good a pass as possible to a randomly flying
Ellwood and attempting to pull off interceptions of passes between the recently finished
beaters and Chaser captain himself. It was no surprise when Roger and Harry shined in
these tests scoring seven out of ten and nine out of ten passes respectfully and four
interceptions each.

“Alright guys, I thank you all for trying out but I doubt there’s any use denying the skill
these two showed today on the pitch, have either of you played before?” he asked,
looking as excited as he sounded.

“I played at home with my brothers on the summer holidays on occasion” admitted Davis
with an embarrassed flush as Harry shook his head.
“No, but I’ve played football for most of my life…the theory and strategies are similar…”
Harry mumbled as Ellwood’s eyes were twinkling merrily, his excitement not yet abated.

“Being a Chaser’s in your blood Potter, I’m sure you’ll do the Blue and Bronze proud” he
encouraged, referring to their house colours “You too Roger, I expect good things this
year. Out biggest weakness last season was our lack of good chasers; we might actually
stand a chance of winning the cup this season with Moran gone and Weasley having to
carry his team of rookies” he said almost all in one breath and an almost evil cackle.

“I take it we make the team then?” Harry unnecessarily asked with a drawl, feeling quite
tired after practise and remembering he had to meet Tonks tonight for their sparring session.

“Of course Potter, of course” he said distractedly, eyeing the two in the Quidditch
uniforms before frowning “We’ll need a lot of practise before our first game though so
we can work well together, do you two have brooms?”

Roger nodded “I’m going to borrow my brother’s Nimbus 1700; now that he has a job, he
won’t need it” he said with a smile while Harry shrugged.

“I don’t but I’ll send a notice to Gringotts so that they can purchase one with my money”
this seemed to pacify their captain for now as they were introduced to the rest of the
team. They were reintroduced to the Keeper, Nigel Worthington, the seeker, Allison
Spencer and one of the beaters, Graham Polack and introduced to Amelia Jones, the
other beater who apparently had a wicked aim despite her lack of strength.

“We’ll have our first team training same time next week and every Saturday evening until
the end of the season. Also, starting Wednesday week, we’ll be having team strategy
sessions and practises for the rest of the season also at six in the evening. If this
timetable clashes with any classes or prior engagements, I expect you to grovel at
Professor Flitwick’s feet until he writes you a pass allowing you to attend – I. Don’t. Like.
Slackers” he finished, punctuating every word with a glare at the two new members who
nodded in acceptance. Harry was happy he was free at those times; he didn’t much fancy
grovelling…

On the way back to the castle, after parting ways with his new team mates, he was
ambushed by Tonks and Archie who began to congratulate him in earnest, without
anyone around to hear their antics and laugh at him.

“Don’t touch my hair woman” snapped Harry as Tonks gave him a noogie while holding him
in a headlock, causing Archie to laugh even more then he already was.

“Aww, poor widdle baby Potter is worried aboud his scwuffy hairs being messier?” Tonks
taunted in a ridiculous baby voice that only aggravated him some more.

“Keep up that behaviour and I won’t put in a good word for you to Remus, Nymphadora”
he said with a grin, enjoying how the Metamorph’s hair changed rapidly through various
shades of red as a sign of her embarrassment or anger, he wasn’t certain.

“Hey, Tonks has the hots for your uncle? You’re cheating on Harry?!” Archie joined in with
the teasing, putting his bit in with mock outrage. Harry just grinned triumphantly when
the speed of the colour changing of her hair only increased.

“Idon’t have the hots for his ‘uncle’” she bit out first “I’m not cheating on Harry because
one needs to be dating to do so” she stated, her eyes narrowing as further as she
continued “and the only reason you seem to think I do have the hots for him is because
you saw me embarrassed after making an ass of myself by falling down my own stairs”
she hissed, as if she had said this many times before, it seemed to be rehearsed enough.

“You told Ted that how many times exactly?” Harry asked with a grin as Tonks only
seemed to be angered further. When she whipped out her wand to hex him, Harry shook
his head in faux disappointment.

“You harm me Nymphadora and I don’t think these tired muscles will be able to make our
sparring session tonight” he said, causing the girl to halt. Having the boy conjure her
dummies and practically be a target dummy himself that can cast defensive charms and
dodge her spells was definitely improving her spell casting speed, reflexes and aim. She
really didn’t want to harm that if she could help it.

“You could hex Archades though, no one really likes him anyway” he said as the boy
turned to him slowly, shocked, angry and scared at the same time.

“Traitor!” he bellowed, well, more like squeaked as he bolted for the doors while dodging a
cackling Tonks’s hexes. Nothing cruel, Harry could tell, but they would definitely be
uncomfortable if they hit. Harry noticed, with amusement, that Archie could definitely
move quickly when motivated.

Harry and the rest of the Quidditch team stumbled through the Ravenclaw common room
entrance, glad that there was a seventh year girl already there answering the mandatory
riddle else one of them would have surely just blasted their way into the rooms.

It had been a long and tiring training session for the new Quidditch team and Ellwood was
quite brutal on him for not yet having procured his own broom. Davis had borrowed his
brother’s Nimbus 1700 like he said he would and Harry was impressed how much better it
flew and handled compared to the school brooms when he was allowed to have a test fly
on it. The difference between the two makes was staggering; it felt like the school brooms
were like tricycles while the Nimbus was a racing motorbike.

Collapsing on the couch beside Archie who could be seen hunched over a piece of
parchment writing his Potion’s assignment out, he waited patiently for him to finish his
assignment or notice him before making his presence known.

“Hey Harry, you look buggered” he joked, rolling up his assignment after signing his name
on it and sealing it “rough night?” he jokes, earning himself an impressive death glare
from Harry.

“I just spent five hours hurling a Quaffle with both arms at a moving target over fifty
feet away with no rest until I could hit it ten times in a row, ridiculous stamina training
where we had to run laps around the Quidditch pitch while dodging Quaffles and going
through and inventing team strategies – lucky tomorrow is Sunday” he finished with a sigh,
ignoring Archie who was gaping at his friend.

“Well damn, I’m glad I didn’t try out, that’s crazy” he sympathized, sitting down on the
seat across from Harry after bagging his homework.

“You got any homework?” Archie asked, wondering if his friend had time to finish it with
his Quidditch training, personal studies which he kept to himself and ‘sparring sessions
that are not codenames for sexual encounters’.
“I usually finish all my assignments in class or during history” he said with a yawn as he
leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on the table, earning glares from the
nearby group of fifth year girls who were simply ignored.

“During History? What do you do for notes?” asked a perplexed Archie “That exam was
pretty hard last year and I take notes myself” he said with a frown.

Harry shrugged and yawned again, too tired to explain it to him “I’ll tell you another time,
I’m just gonna…take…a little nap…” he said between yawns as he drifted off.

Before he could succumb to the beautiful darkness he so craved however, he was quickly
interrupted by Archie who had slapped him hard enough to annoy him across the face.

“Bartholomew just came in” indicated Archie as he began to do his Transfiguration

homework which Harry usually helped him with anyway. It was funny how Harry could
simplify the overly complicating McGonagall’s explanations so he could understand the subject.

Seeing the owl he shared with Remus flying with a broom shaped package, Harry
grinned when he noticed he had the Quidditch team’s and most of the room’s undivided
attention, well, the owl did at least.

Opening the package, he pulled out a brand new broom that had a body of dark Irish oak
with gold trimming. The butt of the broom had dozens upon dozens of neatly cut thin
wooden twigs that resembled the broom’s brush; each twig looked to be personally
crafted and perfectly straight. On the tip of the broom was a golden plaque with the
engraving of the broom’s name: ‘Nimbus 2000’.

Looking up to his captain, the boy seemed to be hyperventilating, much to his amusement
while everyone else looked on in shock.

“That’s a Nimbus two thousand!” gaped Ellwood in shock rushing over to Harry but not
daring to touch the broom, while glaring at anyone who even dared to even think such a thing.

“This is the fasted racing broom on the market; it just came out this week! I saw it
advertised in my ‘Quidditch Monthly’ magazine!” he cooed, eyeing the broom with awe
while never actually touching it – to be honest, it was creeping Harry out a bit.

“I’m getting you a broom service kit” Ellwood said with conviction “No way are you going to
let this baby get treated bad, I’m going to make you service it every day!” he promised
while he was dragged away with force by the team Seeker and his girlfriend Allison Spencer.

As the crowd dissipated, Archie retook his seat, trying not to look impressed by the
broom “So…” he began “you going to let me have a ride on your broom?”

Harry just looked at him, no expression on his face while the group of girl’s that had
glared at Harry earlier for resting his feet on the table stopped talking and began giggling
at Archie.

“You’re such a queer…” Harry said, as he went up to his room so he could put his broom
away safely, leaving a stumped and horrified Archie behind who didn’t understand what
happened.

It wasn’t until five minutes later that he realized what he just said as he attempted to
‘save face’ with the pretty girls that had overheard their conversation.
Harry and Archie could be found sitting together in their History class, speaking in hushed
tones with each other after Harry had shown the boy the secret to his success in the class.

“Cedric said that the world cup was awesome” commented Archie wistfully “I couldn’t go,
but his dad got their family tickets through some connection in the ministry, he was telling
me that the Russia, Japan final was the best match he’d ever seen” he narrated under
his breath, continuing with their Quidditch discussion while two identical Quills scribbled
down whatever the professor said without their assistance.

“What happened with Ireland? I thought with Moran helping them they’d surely do well”
Harry commented with a frown, making sure that his quills were taking notes as they had
been charmed to do.

“They lost to Japan in the match before the final” he said with a nod “the Irish chasers
apparently showed the best teamwork out of any chaser team in decades of Quidditch;
they’re calling them the famous ‘Troy, Mullet and Moran trio’” he said, putting air
quotations around the makeshift name.

“Where’s the next one being held?” asked Harry, changing the topic.

“Here in Britain apparently” said Archie with a shrug “if it gets approved though, the
Ministry will have to divert a lot of its funding and personnel to build the stadium because
there hasn’t been one held in Britain for over five hundred years, and that stadium is
nowhere near big enough.”

Harry frowned at that “How big was the one in Japan?”

“It seated eighty thousand” replied Archie easily. It fascinated Harry how much the boy
just knew these random facts about anything Quidditch “the ministry will probably try and
beat that though…”

“We will be discussing a new topic today now that we are finished with the war against
the Dark Lord Grindelwald” Binns’s voice called out to the class, his voice sounding like an
old vacuum but the change in topic definitely got everyone’s attention. They had, to start
the term, been briefly going over the defeat of every dark wizard for the past thousand
years and it seemed they were up to the most recent of them.

“The Dark Lord, commonly known as ‘He-who-must-not-be-named’” he began, as Harry

rolled his eyes at the stupid name “was, unfortunately, winning the war until one night
almost a decade ago” he said ominously; his voice, that could usually put everyone asleep,
right now held everyone’s attention like Professor Snape could easily do in any of his classes.

“It was on that night that he attacked the Longbottom’s home in Sparrow’s End by himself
for reasons unknown…” Archie noticed, as Binns continued to explain the story of the
‘Boy-who-lived’ that Harry’s eyes had darkened as if he were brooding.

“Nobody knows what exactly happened, but after…defeating Frank and Alice
Longbottom, ‘You-know-who’ turned his wand on young Neville Longbottom to fire the
killing curse at the lad and nip any chance of opposition in the bud, however, miraculously,
the killing curse backfired and claimed ‘He-who-must-not-be-named’ instead…”

Everyone in the room had become deathly silent, a contrast to the quiet chattering that
usually occurred during this class “All that was left of the Dark Lord were his robes on the
floor without his body in them and a lightning bolt scar on young Neville’s forehead…many
believe the lad to be a hero and the ‘chosen one’ that brought the end of a horrible war…”
he said, with a pause.

“However, there were some who were not at all Happy with the news of
‘You-know-who’s’ demise and they attacked several places around Britain in search for
their lord…many people died that night…”

Everyone jumped slightly in some way when the silence was broken by the sound of one
of the wooden chairs scraping against the floor and Harry Potter leaving the room with
an unreadable expression on his face. Binns was about to call his name when the bell
signifying the end of the period rang, so instead of calling him back, he dismissed them all,
including a worried Archie.
Chapter: 9
Chapter 10: Enter the Forbidden Forest

“You nervous?” Archie asked as he chewed on a piece of bacon for breakfast. It was the
morning of the first game of the year, and as luck would have it, Ravenclaw were set to
verse Gryffindor.

“No” was Harry’s simple and cold reply. That was another thing that confused Archie; ever
since that particular history lesson about the ‘Boy-who-lived’ where Harry had stormed
out of the classroom, he had become distant and cold.

Well…more then usual anyway.

Archie had even enlisted the help of Hogwarts resident pranking twins to try and get a
smile on his face, but all the Weasley twins managed to accomplish was proving that there
is no way in hell anyone can prank Harry Potter. He always just seemed to know when
someone was going to prank him. The Weasley twins and Archie had, in their frustration,
named his uncanny ability to thwart their schemes as ‘Harry’s super duper, mega, and
ultra cool Pranking sense’. The name was still up for discussion at their next meeting.

Something that only served to frustrate the trio more was when they had asked him how
he continued to evade being pranked, in the hopes of making their pranks all the more
unavoidable, he had just replied that they needed more ‘skill points’.

What the hell were skill points?!

When that question was put to Harry, he had replied that to know what skill points were,
they needed to acquire more skill points.

Suffice to say, they didn’t have the required skill points and Harry was succeeding in
diverting unwanted attention.

Stephanie had advised to give Harry his space when he had asked for her advice on the
situation, but after a month passed with no change in his attitude, he was honestly
starting to get worried.

“Well, do you think we’ve got a chance at beating the Gryffs today?” he asked, trying to
get at least a few words out of his friend.

“Mm, Ellwood, Davis and I have a strategy to neutralize Weasley” he supplied quietly
while chewing on his own breakfast. That answer surprised Archie for the wrong reasons,
aside from several grunts, mumbles and monosyllabic answers; he really didn’t speak all
that much lately. It was sad that he really had to think to remember the last time he had
strung a full sentence together.

“Well…ehh, care to share?” he asked, a huge grin on his face.

“No.”

Archades sighed dejectedly, hoping a win today would at least help his friend lighten up a
bit. He was sure he wouldn’t mind so much if he at least knew why he was acting this way.

It was an extremely cold Sunday morning that found Archie sitting in the Hufflepuff
stands beside Cedric so they could watch their friend debut for the Ravenclaw house
Quidditch team against Gryffindor. The news of the two second years making the team
was a secret that Ellwood intended on exploiting and using to his advantage, so
naturally, everyone in the castle had found out about it not two hours after their first
training session.
That didn’t seem to bother the Ravenclaw captain as much as it should have, mainly
because he too had caught wind of five of Gryffindor’s new recruits; the Weasley twins as
their new beaters, and Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet as their new Chasers. The
only experienced players they had on their team were Charley Weasley and Jeremy
Brown with Oliver Wood as a second year keeper. This game definitely had the potential
to prove whether Ravenclaw were finally able to make a legitimate run at the cup.

Meanwhile in the changing rooms, Harry and the rest of the Ravenclaw team had changed
into their dark blue and bronze Quidditch robes. Harry had made sure to place a temporary
sticking charm on his glasses so they didn’t fall off while he was playing, he knew that his
flying style was flamboyant at the least, so it was a smart decision on his behalf.

“Alright guys, there’s no need to be nervous” Ellwood began as he stood before his team
that were seated in a line on the bench, a blackboard with their tactics being drawn,
erased, and redrawn behind him as he spoke. His speech was mainly for the two newbie’s
benefit, and the two newbies in question knew this “as long as we follow through with
our planned strategies, there’s no way we can lose. The training you’ve all been through
in the last month should be more then enough to trounce our opponents today” he
finished with conviction.

“I want us to go out there and do the best we can, and I know for a fact that our best
puts us way ahead of the Gryffindorks” he jokes, earning several chuckles from the team,
all except Harry, who had his face set in stone. His role in the game would be the most
important of all, in his opinion.

“What’s our goal?!” Elwood shouted, holding his hand out and motioning for the others to follow

“Victory!” the team collectively shouted as they heard the crowd cheering from inside
the change rooms. Gryffindor must have made their way on the pitch.

“Alright, let’s do this, game faces on everyone” and with that, every member of the team
set their own faces in stone. It was fine to joke around and have fun during training as
long as you get your allocated tasks done, but on game day, it was all business as far as
Ellwood was concerned.

With Ellwood in the lead, Harry followed him out to the pitch, ignoring the loud cheers
that greeted them, though he did discreetly try and look for Archie.

Madam Hooch was standing in the middle of the pitch, ready to referee the game, with
her broom in hand. Harry noticed, with some form of amusement, that the opposing
team’s eyes widened a fraction when they caught sight of his broom.

“Now, as you all know, I expect a good, clean game” she said, as a formality, not really
expecting anything less from these two teams.

“Mount your brooms please, on my whistle, you may begin” she said as Harry steadily
mounted his broom with his feet firmly planted on the ground, waiting for her whistle.

At the sound of a loud whistle, fifteen brooms shot up into the air.

“And we’re off, the Quaffle is immediately taken by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor being
the closest to the ball at the time, what an excellent chaser that girl is, and rather
attractive too…”

“JORDAN!”

“Sorry Professor”

The Weasley twins’ partner in crim and friend Lee Jordan had taken up the post of
commentator after the Jerome Smith, the regular commentator, graduated last year; he
was watched closely by McGonagall.

“She’s really flying down the middle of the pitch towards the Ravenclaw goal, a sizzling
pass to Brown who takes the Quaffle under his wing and advanced toward Worthington,
the veteran Ravenclaw keeper. Brown passes it to Spinnet, and NO, what’s this? Potter
has intercepted the pass and Ravenclaw are on the breakaway with Potter, Ravenclaw’s
rookie Chaser flanked by Ellwood and Davis. Potter performs a battle roll to avoid a well
aimed bludger from Fred or George Weasley, can’t really tell, and lays it off to Davis.
Potter and Ellwood put their heads down and speed towards Wood, blocking the
Gryffindor keeper’s sight of the Quaffle, is that even allowed?!” he shouted, amidst the
cheers and the jeers from the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor stands respectively.

“And Davis SCORES as Potter and Ellwood veer off at the last moment to give their team
mate a clear shot, ten nothing to Ravenclaw after a good team move, I wonder if it
would have been possible if Potter didn’t have that ‘effin broom…”

“JORDAN!”

“Sorry professor” sounding anything but apologetic.

“Wow, that was awesome!” cheered Archie in the midst of the other Hufflepuffs
applauding politely.

“Wow! Harry and Roger are really good, it’s kind of intimidating to someone who wants to
play next year” Cedric said from beside him; the boy’s grey eyes were locked on the
Quaffle and would occasionally look to each seeker.

“Hey, yeah, you said you wanted to play” Archie recalled “why didn’t you try out this year?”

“The Hufflepuff Seeker is a seventh year and there are no reserves, so I figure I’ll try out
with everyone else next year when the spot’s open” he said with a shrug “My father told
me he would be bale to buy me a really good broom too by next year if I really wanted to play.”

Archie nodded politely with a smile. The Diggorys, though an old pureblood family, were
not exactly rich and racing brooms weren’t exactly cheep either.

“There you are” came a feminine voice from behind the two boys. Turning around, Archie
and Cedric were greeted with the sight of a flushed Stephanie who looked like she had
run up several dozen flights of stairs. She probably had if she was looking for Archie…
“Hey Steph, take a seat, you watching this too?”

Stephanie deliberately sat next to Cedric’s left, opposite to Archie, as the boy sulked “It’s
not like I could do anything else, and the rumours were that Harry is really good, so I
came to see for myself.”

“You don’t know anything about Quidditch though” Archie commented with a frown as the
crowd erupted in cheers as Harry himself scored a goal. Cedric had his eyes glued on the
game once again as Archie and Stephanie spoke.

“I don’t” she muttered “but everyone seems to like it, and if I can see a stupid Gryffindork
get pummelled by a psychotic ball, who am I to complain?”

Cedric chuckled “Ouch, harsh.”

Archie rolled his eyes, used to his long time friend’s twisted humour.

Harry took the time to survey his surroundings and catch his breath in the few moments
he had now before the game started up again. To the untrained eye, it would seem that
Ravenclaw were trouncing the Gryffindors with the score being one hundred and forty to
ten in their favour, but Charley Weasley had come disturbingly close to catching the
Snitch on several occasions. The plan was for the chasers to score as many points as
possible before Charley inevitably did the job he was famous for and the beaters were
doing admirably in cutting him off. The problem was, he was adapting to them and would
catch it soon if something wasn’t done to stop him.

As he received the Quaffle from Davis, Harry launched it to Ellwood, but not before seeing
a flash of gold and Weasley diving towards it. He’d caught sight of the Snitch.

Ignoring the play they were about to implement, Harry veered to the right and zoomed
towards Weasley’s intended path. Davis had seen him go off course and stray from their
plan but passed it to him regardless, this action caused the six chasers on the pitch, both
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw alike, to move to the same area, virtually halting Weasley’s
dive with a body of players. Weasley had no choice but to curse and stop his dive, losing
the snitch in the process.

The crowd, seeing what had happened, cheered wildly, especially the Ravenclaw section.
With the Quaffle still in hand, Harry’s eyes followed Davis zoom towards the Gryffindor
goal to take advantage of the open field. Cocking his arm back, Harry gave a mighty
throw and released the Quaffle with a loud grunt.

The crowd almost became silent as the Quaffle had to have easily covered one hundred
and fifty feet at a breakneck speed, straight into Davis’s waiting hands who easily,
having been headed towards the far hoop while Wood was guarding the near hoop, put
the Quaffle through for a goal.

“Did you see that? That was amazing by Potter to not only cut Weasley’s, the elder,
chance at catching the snitch, but to pick out Davis from virtually the other side of the
pitch. If this keeps up, not even Weasley catching the snitch will save Gryffindor, boy this
is exciting!”

Surprisingly enough, the game lasted for quite a bit longer with the score now being two
hundred to fifty, in Ravenclaw’s favour, and they were on the attack again. All they
needed was one more goal and even if Weasley caught the snitch, they wouldn’t be able to win
Harry, however, saw something that made his stomach fall out form beneath him.
Charley Weasley, on the opposite end of the pitch, racing towards the snitch
unopposed! Spencer was far too far away to stop him and so was any other player on
the Ravenclaw team; even their beaters couldn’t do anything as the bludgers were being
controlled by the impressive Weasley twins teamwork; they had planned this!

“Ellwood! Weasley! Snitch!” Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. The captain whipped his
head around, having heard the warning and cursed. The red haired seeker was within
seconds of catching it. Deciding that there was only one chance left, Ellwood, with all his
might, passed the Quaffle to Harry who was hovering near the Gryffindor goal, far
enough away that Wood couldn’t come out to block any passes coming in his direction yet
close enough to score.

Harry scowled when he noticed the Quaffle was coming in too high and too fast. In almost
an instant, his mind analysed the situation. If he were to fly high and intercept, not only
would he give the opposing chasers time to track him down and intercept, but he would
have to pause yet again to actually shoot. Acting on instinct, Harry climbed on his broom,
balancing both feet on it and making sure he had a steady footing. When this was
assured, he barely had enough time to scold himself for trying something so utterly
foolish before leaping into the air with the grace of a swan.

“Potter’s gone mad at the sight of Weasley zeroing in on the Snitch, so mad he’s leapt right
off his broom without even facing the Quaffle. Ladies and Gents, it’s a sad day when
players would rather kill themselves then lose to Gryffindor…”

So shocked was the Transfiguration professor that she didn’t reprimand the cheeky
commentator.

It seemed that the entire stadium took a collective intake of breath when he leapt into the
air and there were even a few gasps when said broom began to plummet to the ground.

Harry however paid no mind to what was going on around him. There were only three
things on his mind; the Quaffle, the Hoop he was aiming at and his position in the air. He
had to time this perfectly.

To the shock of everyone in the crowd, Harry had performed a backwards summersault in
mid air and used the speed of the Quaffle to his advantage, directing the ball into the
nearest hoop…with his foot. Football fans at Hogwarts would forever remember this
defining moment in Hogwarts Quidditch History when Harry Potter invented the Mid-air
Scissor kick.

What was even more shocking was that the Quaffle slammed straight into the inside of
the Hoop and through, the force of the kick being so great that the entire pole shook violently.

Almost too shocked to cheer, everyone’s eyes immediately left the shaking pole to see a
rapidly descending Harry Potter, heading into the ground face down with his arms tucked
by his sides.

In the stands, Dumbledore quickly rose to his feet and whipped out his wand, however,
he found an intervention on his part was completely unnecessary as Harry quickly caught
up with his broom, mounted it, and pulled up before he could smack into the ground.

There were several moments of silence until…

“UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE!” cheered the voice of Lee Jordan, his normal bias absent in
his praise of the daredevil stunt “Potter just pulled off the most Gryffindor like stunt I
have ever seen on the Quidditch pitch, and it seems it could have won them the game
for WEASLEY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!”

The Gryffindors immediately voiced their approval at Charley Weasley’s feat while the
Gryffindor captain himself was gaping in shock at Harry. The rookie Ravenclaw chaser of
the hour was watched by several hundred pairs of eyes as he quickly lowered himself to
the ground and hopped on one foot towards the changing rooms, his right foot never
touching the ground and seemingly in pain as he ignored the commotion he caused.

Immediately after his departure, Ellwood and Weasley flew straight to Madam Hooch to
argue their cases.

“He used his bloody foot to score that goal! Is that even allowed?! Besides, I know I
caught the Snitch before he scored!” roared Weasley over the sounds of the crowd.

“Bollocks! Nowhere does it say in the rulebook that you cannot use your feet to score!
Besides, he beat you to the punch Weasley, this is clearly our game!”

Hooch, being the only person who had the sense to not glue her eyes to Harry Potter
during his shot frowned before blowing her whistle.

“Goal to Ravenclaw! Charley Weasley has caught the Snitch! RAVENCLAW WIN TWO
HUNDRED AND TEN TO TWO HUNDRED!”

The cheers coming from the crowd seemed to be deafening, especially from Archie and
Cedric, and even to some extent, Stephanie who could appreciate a good show.

Minerva McGonagall however narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the entrance of the
change rooms, choosing to remain silent.

Harry sighed in annoyance for what had to have been the fiftieth time that day as he sat
at his desk in the second year boy’s dorm rooms, hit right foot having being covered in a
cast despite his head of house’s and the school nurse’s opinions.
“What are you doing holed up in here Harry, my man?” asked Archie who barged into the
room to see Harry at his desk reading over a book that he really shouldn’t be reading.
Archie filed that bit of information away for a later date, intent on completing the task he
had come up here for.

“Don’t call me that” Harry answered with a glare. Archie being so familiar with him was
nothing out of the ordinary, they had practically been friends for over a year now, but
immediately after that game, people – mostly older girls – who had all but ignored his
existence have pretty much declared their undying love or unwavering friendship for him
– it was annoying.

“Everyone else is doing it” Archie reasoned with a shrug “I still don’t get why you refused
to have your foot fixed by Madam Pomfrey the conventional way, you know, with a
skele-grow potion or by magic itself” he commented with a frown, eyeing Harry’s cast with
disdain. He had his right foot and ankle covered in a thin cast so it could heal the natural way.

“Healing bones with magic or potions will ultimately weaken them” Harry lectured “Given
the fact that it was my first game and I’ve already broken something, I can imagine that
there will be many more breaks in the future; I’d rather not weaken myself by healing my
injuries with magic, especially not ones as simple as a broken foot…now if I broke my
pelvis? That’s another story.”

Archie snorted in amusement “And how would you go about breaking your pelvis? Would
it have anything to do with you and Professor Sinistra, you know, with your newfound
fame, I don’t think it too far out of the realm of possibility that you could bag her” he
paused with a frown “and with the way you’ve been so bitchy lately, its definitely possible
for you to fu…”

He never got to finish his sentence as Harry merely flicked his wand without looking in
Archie’s direction, transfiguring one of the other boys’ socks into a Rottweiler puppy that
proceeded to chase Archie around the room for a few minutes. Archie, while running for his
life, had the time to remember, with shock, the advanced magic Harry had just performed.

Archie was given the time to regain his breath, Harry had decided he had paid for his
comment enough “You know, you should invest in some pads for your feet if you plan on
pulling a stunt like that again…I’d imagine you could get more power on your kick as well if
you did so…you have a good kick by the way” he added with an afterthought “Football
has obviously done you wonders.”

Harry actually stopped reading for a moment and looked towards Archie with a frown
“That was actually kind of smart” he narrowed his eyes with suspicion “if you’re one of
my new fan girls under Polyjuice please go and take a long walk off the Astronomy tower”
he replied coldly, though the amusement in his eyes ruined the effect.

Archie brushed off the insult with a huff “I am known for my few moments of brilliance”
he conceded.

“Yeah, but you’re more known for your much more frequent moments of utter idiocy” he
insulted with a smirk, his eyes back reading his text which Archie had noticed was an
incredibly advanced transfiguration text he had seen Harry reading before.

“You know, you just sounded like Professor Snape just then.”

Harry gasped in mock horror as he looked at Archie “Perish the thought!”

Archie frowned at that “It wasn’t an insult, what do you have against the Professor anyway?”

“Are you mad? You mean other then having the man practically steal our house cup away
from us minutes before we would have won it?” he asked, not really caring about the cup
but more about how blind his friend could be when he chose to be.

“You should have been watching where you were going” he defended as Harry gave up
decided it was pointless.

“So, you going to come down and enjoy the party that is practically being thrown for you
or are you going to stay up here like a geek and read all night?” Archie asked, amidst the
sounds of loud cheering and music coming from the common room that had been annoying
Harry all night.

“I’ll pass” Harry commented while taking his book to his bed and lying down. He had the aid
of a crude cane so he could walk more easily, refusing to accept the crutches Madam
Pomfrey had provided complaining that they were too ‘cumbersome’ “I have better ways
to waste my time” he said dryly.

“And what’s better then peeking on Ellwood banging Spencer for a good hour and a half
through the dorm keyhole and the aid of a few nifty spells?” he asked with a grin, ignoring
Harry wince at his crude comment.

“I don’t know, how about ‘banging’ Spencer yourself instead of peeking like a ‘geeky’
pervert” he challenged as Archie seemed to space out; Harry was weirded out when the
boy let out a low giggle. He shook his head to clear that image from his mind less he need
to take a cold shower “Come on mate, you need to come down, the girls have been
hounding me for hours about you!” he all but whined.

“I’d imagine you’d use that situation to your advantage, all those pretty girls and all” he
commented dryly.

“It does sound like a good idea, there are several of them…” he trailed off with a smirk.

“How very promiscuous of you Archades” he commented dryly, the boy in question just
waved him off.

“Meh, Stephy is the only woman for me anyway” he said with a grin.

“She certainly seems to be fascinated by your genitalia” he commented with a smirk as

Archie winced in phantom pain – the girl had a wicked knee.

“Those are just ‘love taps’” Archie defended feebly as Harry actually barked out a laugh
very much like his guardian would at such a lame comment.

“So, other then disrupting the little quiet time I’ll have for probably a few months, is there
any other reason you have graced me with your presence, oh ‘King of the Love Taps’?”
he said with a snort.

“You mean other then the fact that Ellwood and Spencer finally passed out?” Archie asked
with a grin as Harry rolled his eyes “I dunno, those girls were actually getting pretty
annoying and having to watch the upper years get absolutely smashed on firewhisky while
I’m prohibited to touch the stuff isn’t exactly the most fun thing in the world” he said with
a shrug “Though Roger seems to be having run, he’s snogged four different girls already,
one of them was a hot looking and extremely drunk fifth year…” he trailed off as Harry
just shook his head in exasperation, was it only him that didn’t enjoy acting like a complete idiot

Harry watched secretly with interest as his friend walked over to their bedroom window
that looked out towards the grounds and gazed at something with longing. Harry
narrowed his eyes when he figured out what his friend was looking at; he had been doing
this ever since that Potion’s class – the Forbidden forest was in clear view from that window.

Harry averted his eyes when his friend turned in his direction with a sigh and headed
towards the door “Hopefully the girls are bugging Polack or something by now, I’ll see you
later, watching drunk people make fools of themselves is pretty fun” he said, as he left
the room and headed back to the party being held in honour of the Ravenclaw’s victory
over Gryffindor.

Harry awoke with a start, his book lying open on his chest with his spectacles sitting
slightly askew on his face. He concluded, after the cleared his head of the post-sleep
cobwebs that he must have fallen asleep while reading last night without knowing. Getting
up to go and wash his face, not feeling very tired anymore, he noticed with a frown that
their dorm door was slightly ajar. Looking around the dorm room, he silently checked each
bed to see if everyone was where they should be only to stop short at Archie’s bed
when he saw it empty.
Harry looked at his watch to see that it was as late, or early, as four thirty in the morning
and couldn’t think of a valid reason why his friend wouldn’t be in bed. Looking out his
window with a sense of dread, he noticed the moon still shining mystically in the sky down
at Hogwarts and its grounds. The light it provided showed a small cloaked figure running
towards the Forbidden forest with great haste. Harry quickly put two and two together
and cursed in as many languages that he knew.

Hobbling over to his bed and fetching his temporary cane which he had transfigured
himself earlier to look better then the stick of wood that it practically was into a thin black
piece of wood topped off with a silver eagle head at the top. After getting his cane, he
fetched his own cloak that he threw over himself quickly before moving as quickly and
silently as possible towards the exit to the Ravenclaw common room. He thanked and
cursed Merlin for not having a sentient portrait guarding their rooms before he sneaked
out, never noticing a small figure staring at the boy with wide eyes.

Argus Filch was not a pleasant person, in fact, the caretaker of Hogwarts school of
witchcraft and wizardly could be described as downright nasty, taking a twisted sense of
pleasure in torturing the ungrateful ‘maggots’ – as he referred to the students as – in
any way possible. Patrolling the halls early in the morning after a huge party was one
way he would do this. It was commonplace in a building full of hormonal teenagers to find
a couple or a triple out of bed after curfew in a broom closet or the like, which is why
tonight found the miserable squib stalking the corridors.
“What was that precious?” he asked towards his faithful companion as if he could
understand her. Mrs Norris was just as notorious as Filch when it came to being hated by
the students. The Weasley twins swore up and down that the cat could ‘taste’ fear and
track down students better then Filch ever could “You hear someone out of bed eh? Lead
us to them then, come on” he urged with a large grin as the balding man chased his cat
down the corridor only for the both of them to stop short when they saw a black cat
running out towards the grounds at top speed.

“Oh well precious, you can’t be right all the time” he said with a disappointed sigh as he
turned and walked away, leaving a hissing cat behind that eventually stalked after her
master when she was done.

Had they stayed a minute longer, they would have seen a terrified first year slowly
walking around the school unsupervised and lost.

Harry ran as fast as his four legs would carry him, thanking Merlin that he had an ability
that allowed him to circumvent Filch whenever he pleased. Eventually, he made it to the
outskirts of the forbidden forest and immediately sniffed the air. His senses were
heightened at the moment utilizing his sensitive hearing, smell and his increased touch
receptors to their most, he was able to follow Archie’s trail further into the forest.
His black coat allowed him to keep the shadows and avoid any unwanted attention he
may garner from the other inhabitants of the forest, which was a good thing because he
seriously didn’t want to confront a giant spider in mortal combat any time soon, not when
he needed to stay in this form to track Archie.

Eventually, Harry happened on a clearing in the forest that didn’t have the sky blocked
out completely by the dark and gloomy trees that were more then plentiful elsewhere.
The effect of the admittedly small opening allowed for the moon’s rays to shine through
the canopy and onto a spot on the ground that was beautifully illuminated by its light. At
the scene of the light was a cloaked figure who had removed his hood to reveal a head
of brown hair that was carefully removing a plant from the ground by digging up the soil
around it and placing it in a pot, careful not to cut the roots.

Harry was fine to sit and allow Archades to continue collecting whatever the hell he felt
necessary to risk his life for to come out into this hellhole for until he spotted, with his
keep eyes that allowed him to see quite well in the night, a huge snake slithering silently
towards Archie’s position; the boy was far too absorbed in his own world to notice.

Just as silently, Harry too sneaked to Archie’s position, careful to mask his emotions
behind his Occlumency shields. He had no plans of alerting the humongous serpent to his
presence by projecting any emotion wilfully or not in its direction.

Seemingly done, Archie sighed happily and potted the plant he had been working on
which had a black stalk and glowing white petals adorning it. Out of all the herbs and
magical plants he had ever read about, it was definitely the most beautiful and magical
looking one he’d set his eyes on. Ready to leave, Archie turned around to head back only
to retreat several steps in fright when he finally spotted the twenty foot predator
slithering its way towards him. The snake itself had its massive jaws opened menacingly
and instead of the regular pair of fags one would come to expect from any serpent
dripping with venom, it sported a mouth full of razor sharp and instead of hissing, knowing
it was spotting, it was almost growling, yet not quite.

The snake’s scales were a dark grey, however, they also seemed to be covered in a
shadowy aura that surrounded its body in entirety creating a menacing image, well, that
and its pair of glowing violet eyes.

Archie immediately recognized the creature to be a Vorpala, a magical serpent that has
an abnormally large life span and is a natural carnivorous predator. It is often known to
eat humans when particularly hungry and its venom can easily paralyse its prey with one
drop injected into the blood stream. This one in particular looked to be exceptionally
dangerous and he honestly couldn’t think of a way to leave this situation alive. Closing
his eyes and waiting for the end, he was surprised when it didn’t come; instead, with his
eyes closed, he was able to hear a loud hissing unlike a serpent’s joining the fray.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes to see, to his horror, a rather normal black cat standing in
front of him in a protective position with its back arched and fangs bared, hissing
menacingly. This is what he gets as a saviour? A freaking black cat? It didn’t even look
like an adult! Archie moaned mentally at the ridiculousness of it all.

Archie looked on with sadness when the Vorpala seemed to be mocking the feline as it
reared its head back and struck. To Archie’s surprised however, the cat was quicker and it
sidestepped the strike, causing the Vorpala to crash unceremoniously into the ground
before the cat attack, slashing one of its violet eyes with its claw, damaging it beyond repair.

The Vorpala roared in outrage and pain, terrifying the young Montague with the sound it
produced and charged blindly at the offending feline – away from Archie. Then, when the
Vorpala looked certain to land a killing blow on the brave cat, the most amazing thing
happened, something that Archie would remember for the rest of his life.

The cat leapt away again from a strike and almost in an instant, it morphed into the shape
of a crouching, spectacled human with a cane in hand and furious emerald eyes.
“Harry?!” Archie shrieked in surprise, noticing that his voice had raised several octaves
with disgust.

Harry however ignored the boy and glared at the Vorpala, his wand drawn and pointed
between its eyes before he…hissed at it!

Archie’s mouth dropped open in shock once again that evening so soon after he had
finally reattached it to the rest of his jaw. Harry was speaking to the snake! Harry was
speaking the language of the snakes and it understood! Harry was a Parseltongue!
Suddenly, Archie was beginning to feel light headed.

“Leave before I am forsssed to kill you Vorpala” Harry hissed menacingly as the creature
in question reared back in shock.

“Food…kill…ssspeaker…kill…ssso hungry…kill…devour…dessstroy…” The Vorpala hissed

back unintelligibly, much to Harry’s annoyance. The brief pause in momentum as the
Vorpala processed this new information was all the time Harry needed to strike.

Flicking his wand, he sent a blue beam of power out of his wand that crashed into the
ground the Vorpala had been seated on. Fortunately for the Vorpala, it was able to get
away in time, unfortunately for the Vorpala, Harry was not done.

With a slight twirl and jab of his wand, the debris created by the explosion of the blasting
hex slamming into the ground was transfigured into almost a dozen spear length wooden
spikes. The spikes seemed to hover in mid air around the suddenly fearful Vorpala until
Harry jabbed his wand again in mid air, causing the spikes to crash down into the area the
Vorpala had been occupying, piercing its tough scales in several places yet not killing it.
With cold eyes, Harry flicked his wand and swished it from left to right, causing a yellow
beam of light to generate from the swish and quickly sever the beast’s head.

Turning to his friend after he was sure the beast was dead, Archie involuntarily took
another step back when he saw the fury in his eyes.

“You don’t need to explain, I already know why you’re here” he hissed out, and Archie
was brutally reminded of his Parseltongue abilities that he had shown not too long ago “I
hope it was worth almost losing your life over, just feel glad that I’m a light sleeper” he
said as he limped over to his friend, cane in hand to aid him and grabbed his shoulder,
ready to drag him back.

“Wait!” Archie yelped as he broke free from the grip and took out a knife and immediately
set to work on the Vorpala. Harry sighed as he let his friend cut loose several fangs, its
one remaining eye - which was still glowing an eerie violet - , its heart, its liver, its venom
glands and a few samples of said venom before he got up ready to leave.

“Are you finished precious?” he sneered “We’ll be lucky if we don’t encounter something
on the way back, the creatures of this forest must have heard something” he said angrily
as Archie paled and nodded quickly. Harry transformed back into a black cat with bright
green eyes and headed back in the direction Archie assumed was the castle.

Following behind with his newly obtained potions ingredients inside a bottomless bag and
the pot with the glowing plant held tightly in his hand, Archie sped alone the forest floor,
keeping to the shadows as Harry led the way back.

Suddenly, the pair was assaulted with the sound of hundreds of light footsteps followed
by chattering and hissing noises, they were being followed and whatever was following
them was in a huge pack!

The sounds seemed to get nearer and nearer until, out of the bushes ahead of them burst
a large half man half horse holding a spear and looking past them. This was a centaur and
its skin was a dark grey while the coat of its horse half was even darker.

“Quick, Archades Montague and…Harry Potter” the Centaur said in a kind voice, shocking
the two who had stopped dead in their tracks upon his arrival “I will stall the herd of
Acromantula tailing you with a parting bit of advice – do not return until you can defend
yourselves from such a threat. You are lucky I am here to do so” he finished sternly.

Harry, still in his cat form nodded his head and ran past him, Archie following quickly as he
feebly tried to hide his plant – worried that he’d offend the centaur if he saw it.

The two had not stopped running until they had returned to the castle. The sun had just
begun to peek out over the horizon when they did so which didn’t bode well for them –
the teachers would be waking soon.

Changing back into his human form, Harry pulled Archie by his arm while using his one
remaining appendage to utilize his cane. Neither of the boys spoke until they rounded
and corner to see a small form curled up behind a statue sobbing quietly.

The two had a silent conversation that was made up of glares, hand gestures and more
glares until Archie finally relented – not being as good at glaring as Harry – and
approached the girl.

“Hey” Archie said softly as he approached the girl “My name’s Archie, what are you doing
up and about and why are you crying?” he said kindly, startling the girl who was about to
scream until she realized who it was. Archie too had realized who it was when he saw the
teary oriental face looking back at him. The girl’s name was Cho Chang, a first year who
had been giggling along with the other girls not a few hours ago while observing Roger’s antics

“I…I saw Harry sneaking out and I was going to…to tell him he would lose us points and
maybe the house cup again if he went out so I followed him…but I lose him and I got
lost…” she said in a quiet voice that was interrupted by stutters as she was still crying.
Archie could practically feel the glare of Harry’s being directed at the back of his head as
he smirked triumphantly.

“Yeah, Harry’s a bit of a tool” he agreed with a chuckle, ignoring his friend who had by
now tuned the two out as he kept a look out for teachers “You don’t have to worry about
us though, we’re not getting caught, let me take you back to the dorms okay?” the girl
nodded with a big smile and allowed Archie to lead her back.

The two boys saw Cho off to bed while standing in the common room alone. When the
door of her dorm room closed and they were finally alone, the two were met with a terse
silence.

“Woo, what an adventure!” Archie cheerily exclaimed “We need to do that aga-oomf!”
he began only to be cut off as Harry rammed his cane into his foot and slammed it in his
stomach immediately afterwards.

“Okay” Archie wheezed, catching his breath “I deserved that” he admitted.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he hissed, immediately reminding Archie of something
he had just figured out.

“Don’t go all angry on me!” he argued back in a loud whisper “When were you going to
tell me you were a Parseltongue!” he accused “Or an Animagus for that matter!” he
caught his breath “those are really advanced or frown upon magics!”

“It was none of your concern! I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention it again either” he
said with finality “What the hell was worth risking your life for in the Forbidden Forest
anyway?” he argued back “you are aware of how close you came to becoming Vorpala
food tonight aren’t you?”

Archie lowered his head in shame at that, what could he say? He was right.

“I can’t tell you why…” Archie began “But suffice to say that I really needed this Moon
Thistle for something more important that school” he said with a seriousness that made
Harry pause “I may tell you some day, but today is not that day…leave it alone” he let out
a sigh “Suffice to say that its important enough to me that I knew that dangers of
venturing into the forest and I still ignored them to get it.”

Harry glared at him one final time before stalking up the stairs. When he reached
halfway, he turned back around “You owe me a new pair of shoes by the way” he said,
motioning towards his one ruined shoe which made Archie laugh at the absurdity of it all.

The two went to bed, thankful that they had no classes tomorrow, or today, as the sun
could attest to.

Groggily, Archie and Harry made their way down to the great hall for lunch having just
woken up and skipped breakfast, the latter still hobbling with his cane.
“When did you get a new cane?” asked a surprised Archie when he finally realized Harry
holding onto an eagle head rather then a rough piece of wood.

“I transfigured the old one into this, the head was the hardest part and it was what I was
reading about in that book” he said as the two made their way into the great hall where
they were immediately confronted by a pissed off looking Stephanie.

“You two promised to study with me!” she accused, as the two boys remembered their
Charms study session they had planned “You ditched me, I want an explanation!” she said
coldly, getting her knee ready to use on Archie should his answer not suffice.

Seeing only one way out of this without getting floored, Archie took it.

“Harry’s a Parselmouth!”

Chatter around the great hall instantly hushed as everyone stared at him with a bit of
shock, surprise and even some fear. Stephanie was openly gaping at him, and she was
not the only one.

Harry had removed his glasses and began to rube the bridge of his nose in annoyance,
an act he found himself doing more and more of ever since he knew Archie.

Seeing everyone looking at him and knowing he had no way out of this without roughly
three million uncomfortable and not to mention annoying questions, he turned to the
majority of the hall.
“What are you looking at foolsss?!” he hissed out in Parseltongue as several students
shrieked upon hearing the snake language spoken so casually from a fellow student.
Parseltongue was the sign of a dark wizard! What did that make Potter?!

“Oh and Stephanie, the reason why we were late today?” he went over to her and began
to whisper in her ear. At first, she got over her shock about Harry’s abilities and her
eyes widened before narrowing in anger. Her face then showed relief briefly before her
face trembled with fury. Archie discreetly crossed his hands over his privates and hoped
for the best, knowing what his friendhad done.

Surprisingly enough, Stephanie launched herself at Archades and hugged him tight “I’m so
glad you’re alright!”

Archie was so stupefied that he let his arms drop to his sides as a goofy expression came
to his face. That was all the incentive Stephanie needed and she kneed him in the groin,
one of her hardest and best attacks ever.

“But if you ever do something so stupid again, I’m replacing my knee with a knife!” she
hissed, storming off and leaving a moaning Archie on the floor. Feeling justice was done,
Harry took a sandwich from the table, frowning when the students gave him a wide
berth, and headed back to the common room.

Unsurprisingly enough, the infamous ‘rumour mill’ of Hogwarts had done its job to
perfection and spread the word of Harry’s new ability like wildfire, not that he cared much,
it allowed him to study in peace more often. Though no one outright persecuted him for
it, they were wary of him and his success in the Quidditch game against Gryffindor was
quickly forgotten.
The months rolled by with Christmas coming and going. Harry had gone home to visit his
mother, as was standard, and had helped Remus around ‘Moony Nights’ while he wasn’t
studying. As predicted, they had attracted all sorts of ‘half-breeds’ and
‘magical-creatures’, however, mostly, the customers consisted of Goblins and
Werewolves who would either come for a drink after work or come to use the ‘Full Moon
Rooms’ during that time of the month to help control their problem.

Back at school, Harry and the Ravenclaw team were winning game after game; the cup
was won with a slaughtering of Slytherin, who, without Moran were nothing special – even
with their cheat tactics.

The Easter break brought an important time for all second years were they would chose
which electives they would be taking up along with their classes. Harry had immediately
chosen to take Ancient Runes, a class where they would study several rune languages
and symbols before learning to use them to perform magic. He also chose to take
Arithmancy, an intellectually demanding class that studied that importance of numbers and
their magical properties.

Archie had also selected to do Runes with him but instead of Arithmancy, he had opted to
take Care of Magical Creatures, a class in which they were shown how to care for, deal
with or learn about several magical creatures.

Harry had just finished his final exam of the year when he was called to McGonagall’s
office by a fifth year Gryffindor prefect without reason, so, outside McGonagall’s office
door is where we found the ebony haired boy as he knocked on the door thrice.
“Come in” ordered a stern female voice from the other end. Harry did as told and was
greeted with the sight of his Transfiguration professor with her lips thinned and a tray of
tea and biscuits waiting for him. He never really was a fan of tea.

Harry sat in the chair provided opposite McGonagall “Tea?” she offered with a wave of
her hand. Feeling his ear go warm as he neared the tea, he suspected it to be bugged in
some way, probably with a mild truth serum. He declined respectfully while keeping his
Occlumency shields up just in case she was an accomplished Legilimens.

“You know Mr. Potter, you show an incredible amount of skill for a second year in my class,
in fact, I’ve had several students report to me that they had witnessed you perform feats
that I do not teach in my class until sixth year” she began “You show an almost unusual
amount of skill, I would say.”

Harry merely looked at her in mock confusion before raising an eyebrow “I’m sorry for
outshining your Gryffindors ma’am, perhaps I should not perform so spectacularly?” he
offered innocently and he was greeted with an angry glare from the Gryffindor head of house.

“Do not presume me to be as petty as Severus, I do not favour any house, merely even
the scales as Professor Snape continues to see it fit to deduct points from my house
unfairly – most of the time, I am in the right” she paused “no, I am merely here to try and
confirm a theory of mine…” she looked at Harry over her cup of tea, taking his silence as
an admission to begin.

“For a twelve year old boy, you take an usual amount of effort in your appearance, why,
I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a student your age with an ear piercing while teaching here”
Harry’s eyes widened slightly before reminding himself to find a stronger glamour charm
to cover his piercings; seeing no need to hide them though as the teachers probably
knew, he let the charm drop showing his two small diamond studs and ring in his upper ear.

McGonagall smirked at the action “You also wear, if my knowledge of the Muggle world is
to be accurate, designer clothing and have a pair of designer glasses – most unusual, I
repeat for someone your age.”

Getting tired of the games the professor was playing, he commented “I’m flattered
professor, really, and if I were maybe a few centuries older, I’d definitely make a pass…”

Angered at the jab at her age, the interrupted furiously “That is not what I meant and
you know it Mr. Potter! Twenty points from Ravenclaw for your cheek and I’d advise to
not comment on a woman’s age in the future” she yelled, her cheeks flushed in anger.

Trying hard not to laugh at the normally stern professor looking so flustered, he remained
silent “Now that I have mentioned that first anomaly, let me state another in regards to
you” she paused “now your father was probably one of the most gifted students I have
ever had the pleasure of teaching in my time at Hogwarts, yet not even he showed even
a smidgen of your potential until his fifth year – your unnatural skill in Transfiguration also
intrigues me…”

Harry narrowed his eyes as he saw where this was going, though he opted to remain silent.

“Then there is your performance during Quidditch” she said, frowning at the memory of
their defeat “while I am still sour at our defeat, it is not that which I am commenting on,
rather the grace of your movements when you are on a broom…they are too
graceful…very much like…a feline perhaps…”
Harry was sure she knew about his ability to turn into a cat, though he still remained
silent. How he thought he could hide such a thing from a cat Animagus and a
Transfiguration professor he’d never know.

“On their own, these facts don’t mean much, but together, they point to you having an
ability that I believe you have been holding out on me for” she paused again, taking a sip
of her tea “that is the ability of being an Animagus…are you a cat Animagus Mr. Potter?”

Harry looked at his professor with his head cocked before almost instantly, where he once
sat, he was replaced with a black cat with startling green eyes. He then transformed
back without a word and only the slightest show of discomfort.

“I thought so” she said to herself with a smile, which looked oddly placed on her usually
stony face, however it was gone as quick as it came “Is there a reason you are not
registered, Mr. Potter? You know that it is an offence to not do so correct?”

Harry snorted and lounged back in his chair “Who said I’m not registered?”

“I don’t like liars Mr. Potter” she said with a frown however she was silenced when Harry
held his hand up, stopping her protests – she didn’t take too kindly to that.

“Who said I registered in Britain?” he asked with a grin as McGonagall’s eyes widened in shock

“But you…”

“Mhmm”

“But isn’t it still…”

“Negative”

“Are you absolutely…”

“One hundred percent”

“Will you stop answering my question bef…?”

“Negative”

McGonagall frowned but the amusement in her eyes was clear as day “I am satisfied to
have solved the enigma that I find myself dubbing you as Mr. Potter, you have my word
that I will not reveal this to anyone as you have obviously gone to great lengths to keep
it hidden…to some extent, I can understand why also…” she frowned, being one of the
few who knew of his past.

Harry nodded in thanks as he watched the Professor pull out a book from her desk and
slide it over to him. It was titled ‘Tipping the Scales; a Text on Battle Transfiguration’.

“It was your father’s favourite book” she said quietly “in that book you will find many uses
for Transfiguration from several experts, including the Headmaster himself, to use during
battle as well as several spells and theories. Normally I would never consider giving it to a
merely second year going on third year student, but you are far from normal.”
Harry took the book graciously and with reverence and nodded at the Professor in thanks.

“I also hear that you are well one your way to securing the number one spot for the
year again…congratulations” she said with a smile as Harry frowned. He had just finished
his exams…

“I will see you after summer break Mr. Potter, do say hello to Lily and Remus for me.”

Wondering just how many people knew of his visits to his mother, he nodded and left the
office with another words of thanks back towards his common room. He needed sleep
after such a long week.

Harry stood beside a teary Nymphadora Tonks at Kings cross who had enveloped him in a
bone crushing hug. Looking around awkwardly to see several people snicking or staring at
him with jealous looks in their eyes, he softly pat her on the back and urged her to let go.
“Oh, I’m going to miss you somuch Harrikens!” she cooed through her tears as Remus and
her parents watched with amusement.

“Good Luck with your Auror training Nymphadora, you better not suck after all our
sparring” he said with a grin.

Stephanie kneed Archie in the groin when he let out a cough that mysteriously sounded
like ‘sex’.

With a kiss on the cheek, she sauntered off, placing one foot directly in front of the
other and swaying her hips. Before she was out of sight, she sent a victorious look
towards Remus who she had caught looking and winked at him. Remus chuckled before
turning to an amused Harry.

“I think she likes you.”

“She’s half my age Harry.”

“You were definitely paying careful attention to her posterior though, hoping to find the
answer to life and its mysteries on it then?” he cheekily replied with a grin.

“Congratulations on winning the House and Quidditch cup, people at Moony Nights have
even been commenting on some of the stunts you pulled out on the pitch, I’ll be sure to
make a few games next season” he said, changing the subject.

“You know, I wonder if the carpet matches the drapes…” Harry trailed off and immediately
let out a bark of laughter when the comment caused him to zone out and walk straight
into a trunk and fall over.

Bidding Archie, Cedric – who was with Archie at the time – and Stephanie a good
summer, he headed home to Moony Night – his second year of Hogwarts completed.
Chapter: 10
Chapter 11: The Ancient Vampire

Remus sighed as he tossed an old yet clean looking rag over his shoulder and leaned
against the bar counter for a few moments of well earned rest. When Harry had predicted
early on that Moony Nights would be a hit in the ‘magical creature and half-breed’
community, as usual, he was pretty damn accurate.

Immediately after opening, Goblins by the dozen would come in after work to take a load
off, drink and relax amongst their kin and anyone else who would listen to the ‘true’ tales
of the Goblin rebellions. Surprisingly enough, the head of the Gringotts bank in Diagon
Alley – a Goblin named Ragnok – offered two of his ‘warrior Goblins’ completely decked out
in gold armour and long spears to guard the premises at all times if all Goblins visiting the
inn received a discount of 20 on everything. Needless to say, the extra help and
intimidation factor the goblins provided was more then enough incentive to accept.

Slowly, and with less confidence then the Goblins, human witches and wizards who
frequented Knockturn Alley and didn’t discriminate against werewolves or Goblins would
come in for a drink and a good time, the first of who were Andromeda and Ted Tonks when
their schedules allowed for it.

Afterwards, and in far less numbers came the vampires, the first of whom would have
just barely been considered an ancient being roughly one thousand years old. His name
was Lestat d'Auvergne, a very influential vampire from France who had come to visit and,
most likely, ascertaining if the establishment was legitimate and not just some ruse to kill
some vampires unaware. Harry, to Remus’s surprise, had an incredibly interesting
conversation with the man that evening.

“Ah, and you must be young Lord Potter, the wizard who helped fund this establishment
and make it possible” Lestat said with amusement and a slightly French accent.

Nodding slightly to the man and looking at Remus questioningly he waited for the man to
introduce himself.

“Ah, I don’t suppose you’d recognize me, the pictures are always so unflattering” he said
with distaste “My name is Lestat d'Auvergne, you may have heard of me?” he responded
cheekily, well, cheekily for an ancient vampire anyway, and nodded his head in kind.

Comprehension dawned on Harry upon hearing the name and reverted to the man’s
natural tongue “What does an ancient Vampire such as yourself find interesting enough
here to interrupt his daily activities to come and see?”

Lestat looked down at the boy with amusement dancing in his dark grey eyes, taking the
offered glass of blood from Remus on the other side of the bar.

“Your accent truly is impeccable” he complimented “Most people, much older then
yourself, have problems grasping it; to have it so mastered is quite the feat” he paused
to take a sip of the drink and sighed appreciatively, nodding to Remus to show his thanks
for the drink “I am merely ‘scoping out’ the premises on behalf of my brothers and sisters;
should I think it safe for them, I will spread the word and they shall come” Harry nodded,
sitting straighter when he realized this man could bring immense revenue to his guardian’s
business “They are very eagre to visit, I assure you” he finished with a grin, having
noticed the boy sit straighter after his explanation.

“Do you find Moony Nights to your liking so far then Monsieur?” he tried to ask
apathetically, though the eagerness in his voice must have been noticeable, for Lestat
chuckled after the question.

“Fear not Lord Potter, I have already come to my decision, nothing you could say or do
would change that, though I do think the name is a tad bit…undignified…though the only
competition in the area is a place named ‘the Leaky Cauldron’…not so dignified
either…must be a British thing…” he finished with a chuckle.

Harry grinned slightly but said nothing else otherwise. The elderly Vampire sensed that
the boy wasn’t exactly the most talkative type, so he took it upon himself to start up
conversation.

“My sources tell me you are a Parselmouth?” he more stated then asked. If the boy
hissing under his breath was any sign, he probably wanted that information to be kept
hidden “You are not proud of this feat? Are you ashamed to have such a ‘dark’ ability?” he
questioned with amusement, though the underlying meaning did not get past Harry.

“I do not have such idiotic views on magic as some others may” Harry snapped back “I
would have preferred my gift remain secret simply because I prefer all my abilities to
remain secret – I plan to have many enemies one day, them knowing my skills does me no goo

“Ah, so you know there is a branch of magic that comes with the ability of Parseltongue
then?” Lestat more stated again “How did you come to realize that without performing
any Parselmagic of your own? Or is it perhaps that you have?”

Harry waved him off “Nothing of the sort, I am a fan of both muggle and magical
mythology” he began “I like to research mythological figures I know to have actually
existed and discovering what magics they used in times past” he paused to take a sip of
the can of coke the Remus kept in storage mainly just for him, however, Lestat interrupted him.

“One of these ‘mythological’ figures wouldn’t happen to be the legendary Greek Asclepius
would it?” he smirked “The so called demigod of medicine and healing? It doesn’t surprise
me, given the unfortunate state of your mother…”

Harry nodded “I theorized that his legendary ‘Serpent Staff’ was a sign of his possible
abilities and further research alluded to the possibility that he was indeed a Parseltongue
himself…”

“Ah yes…” Lestat seemed to gain a faraway look “The idiocy of wizards in the modern
day astounds me, to think that the gift that is Parselmagic is hereditary…” Lestat shook
his head “No, no, it is most definitely a random gift from lady magic herself, just as the
ability of being a Metamorphagus is, or an Animagus for that matter” he explained “Did
you discover anything about Asclepius then Lord Potter?”

Harry shrugged “All trails I have tried to follow have led to dead ends, though the staff
itself would be useful to me if I could get my hands on it – I am sure I could find a cure
for my mother should I obtain it…”

Lestat seemed to be thinking while sipping away at the glass of rich blood before him “I
believe another famous Parselmouth was on the same quest as you near the time of my
turning” he began “for the same reason in fact; this wizard loved his mother…though it
was probably a very unhealthy love, but that doesn’t matter right now”he commented
offhandedly as Harry snorted into his drink “he too was a very powerful and
accomplished wizard who no doubt would have left his research behind, if you were to find
it, I no doubt believe you would be on the right track to helping your mother…”

Harry frowned while looking up at the ancient vampire who was covered in a thick
travelling cloak with the hood not covering his face. The vampire’s black hair was perfectly
straight and groomed and being held in a low pony-tail, the only sign that he was a
vampire would be his unnaturally pale skin and slightly elongated canines that protruded
slightly from his closed mouth when he grinned “Why are you helping me at all? What
interest is it of yours if my mother becomes well, I hardly think you care enough for the
single life of one mortal woman to aid me so, thoughts on the matter aside…”

All amusement in Lestat’s face vanished as his face suddenly became solemn and serious
“Dark times are coming Lord Potter, and no I am not referring to your ridiculous Dark Lord
and his petty followers…suffice to say that should I help you, one day, should I ask a
favour of the non-nefarious kind, you would be more inclined to agree…”

Harry at first felt an urge to run away from any pact he could willingly or unwillingly make
with a vampire, but there was no pact mentioned, just favours. Also, if something dark
was coming that even had the ancient vampires leaving their manors to perform ‘favours’
for, it must be serious.

“Who exactly was this famous wizard you spoke of earlier?”

Lestat grinned at the boy, amusement dancing in his eyes once again as he answered
“Why, that would be Salazar Slytherin of course!”

Ever since that conversation with the ancient vampire, three things changed at Moony
Nights. One was that you could find a vampire or three visiting the inn daily, some even
taking the rooms in the underground of the inn for extended periods of time to rest.
Another was that eventually, some werewolves would come; looking tired and ragged
when the full moon was approached where they were promptly led to the appropriate
rooms so they can deal with their disease accordingly. The third thing was that Harry
would come down less and less to help at the inn or merely lounge around, opting to hole
himself up in his room and bury himself in books or practise his magic in private.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the inn opened and allowed in five
people, two of them familiar. Archie Montague and Stephanie Zabini with who Remus
assumed to be the rest of the Zabini family were standing at the entrance and looking
around, oddly enough, looking out of place surrounded by Goblins, a handful of
werewolves and two Vampires in the bar section. The family, led by a tall Italian man with
dark hair, moved to one of the booths were they all sat awaiting service.

Remus immediately moved over to them, opting not to send Lizzy or one of the other
house elves to take the order to make a good impression.

As Remus approached, Archie’s face lit up with a grin “Hey Mister Lupin!” he greeted,
getting the attention of the Zabinis.

“Hello Archie, care to introduce me to people you’re with? I recognize Stephanie of

course” he smiled at the girl who nodded politely in return.
“Well” began Archie “that’s Antonio Zabini, – just call him Tony – this fine woman” he
began, motioning to a beautiful who looked to Archie with amusement, she looked to have
porcelain like skin, unlike the tanned her husband’s was, and gorgeous brown eyes that
mirrored her daughter’s. She too, like her daughter, had long black hair though she opted
to have it straight then wavy “…is Bianca Zabini, you can tell where Stephy gets her looks
from eh?”

Archie yelped as Stephanie kicked him in the shin from under the table while the two elder
Zabini enjoyed the duo’s antics – it seemed like it was a common occurrence. There was
also a younger boy with them who looked like he would be starting Hogwarts soon himself
if he would be attending.

“And this squirt here is Blaise, isn’t that right Blaisey?” Archie joked, locking the boy beside
him in a headlock and administering a world class noogie to the annoyed boy who looked
to be a midget Antonio.

“Geroff Archie!” the boy wailed from Archie’s grip as Bianca cuffed Archie on the head.

“Stop antagonizing Blaise, Archie, it’s not very nice” she reprimanded as Archie pouted
childishly “Oh fine, ruin my fun!”

“This is Remus Lupin” Stephanie introduced, ignoring Archie “he’s Harry’s…uncle?” she
asked uncertainly to which the man responded with a shrug “I’m his guardian since his
parents…well yeah, he just calls me his uncle to simplify things” he explained.

“Why wouldn’t he call you his dad…?” Blaise asked with confusion and a childlike innocence
“if you adopted him that is…?” Bianca, Antonio and surprisingly Archie sent him
disapproving looks while Stephanie looked equally as interested.

“His mother is still alive…he refuses to give up hope on her and find new
parents…besides, I wouldn’t want to take James’s position as the brat’s father, being a
guardian is complicated enough” he joked as the other laughed.

“What happened to his mother…?” asked a surprisingly melancholy Archie, the others
around the table sent him sad looks or winced when he asked the question.

“Their house was attacked the night the Dark Lord was vanquished” elaborated Remus
carefully “I don’t want to say much as its not my place to do so if Harry hasn’t felt the
need to say so, but the attack ended in his father’s death and his mother’s permanent
residence in Saint Mungo’s” he said with a sigh “it’s the reason he never spends Christmas
at Hogwarts, he makes it a ritual of his for Christmas to spend it with her all day, its sad
yet inspiring at the same time how much love he has for her…”

Bianca and Stephanie looked to have unshed tears at the short tale, the latter trying to
hide it by complaining about Archie’s ‘ruddy’ cologne reacting poorly with her and
watering her eyes.

“How about I take your orders and call Harry while they’re being made, he needs a break
from studying – it’s all he does all summer” he practically whined, lightening the mood.

After giving the orders to his house elf staff, Remus made his way upstairs to Harry’s
room and knocked once. Seeing as there was no answer, he opened the door silently
and was met with a magnificent sight. Standing in the middle of Harry’s oddly bare room
was Harry himself with his wand being waved in a constant dance of intricate patterns as
he controlled his environment. On the floor all around him were several toy soldiers,
around twelve inches in height, fighting each other with their little fists or weapons
respectively. Remus was merely astounded by the sheer number of soldiers actually
fighting to be shocked at how advanced the magic he was witnessing actually was, and on
closer inspection, the soldiers looked to be made of some kind of metal! He knew Harry
didn’t have any toys so he must have transfigured the whole batch up…into metal,
transfiguring anything that isn’t metal intometal was incredibly advanced as well.

Suddenly, all the soldiers dropped to the ground dead and with a stab of his wand, they
all disappeared into nothingness.

“Yes Remus?” Harry asked, turning around to face his uncle with his face and chest
drenched in sweat, the latter being visible as he was only dressed in a pair of bicycle
shorts and singlet.

“The Zabinis and Archie are here, I figured you could go and say hello” he commented, still
in a daze at the magic he had witnessed from a just recently thirteen year old. Wiping his
face with a towel that he had handy near his location, Harry waved his wand a few more
times and silently rearranged his room to what it was before, a fairly Spartan style with a
single bed and desk – the only thing in the entire room that would suggest individuality in
the slightest would be his larger then normal wardrobe and his huge book shelf.

Only now had he realized that Harry had been looking at him with a deadpan “Pervert, if
you don’t mind, I would like to get changed, unless you want me parading around
downstairs in my exercise clothes?”

Needing no further prompting, Remus quickly shut the door and hurried off to the bar to
serve any customers that may have come – he would never understand Harry, but the
boy was truly amazing sometimes.

Not ten minutes later after a shower and a change of clothes, Harry arrived downstairs
wearing something more appropriate to greet the Zabinis and one Montague. Scanning
the room and spotting a few tables made up of Goblins talking – probably about
economics or battle – in hushed whispers, a trio of vampires seated in a dark corner
enjoying mugs of blood, a few werewolves scattered around the place relaxing, the odd
wizard or three and finally, Archie, Stephanie and three people he vaguely recognized
from King’s cross station seated at a booth.

Walking past them, his hair still wet from his shower, he dragged a chair from a nearby
table and pulled it over to the booth to take a seat, idly recognizing Hagrid, the
groundskeeper from Hogwarts conversing with a hooded figure about something or other
– the giant of a man couldn’t be inconspicuous even if he tried, he looked quite drunk too.

“Salutations” Harry greeted with a tired smile at the group of people, not sitting down at
the seat he brought until he was introduced, pureblood customs and all.

“Hey Harry” greeted Archie exuberantly as he introduced the three other Zabinis once
again which was followed by the green eyed boy taking his seat and joining them in their dinner

“Archie tells us you’re quite the Quidditch player” Bianca prompted as soon as Harry sat down.

With a nod, he got comfortable in the stiff wooden chair he had snatched, idly reminding
himself to talk to Remus about replacing them later “We won the cup last season,
Gryffindor wasn’t too happy about that, supposedly we were supposed to relinquish it to
them because it was Weasley’s last year” he said shaking his head in annoyance “I play chase

“Play chaser is an understatement!” Archie gushed “You should see him out there, his
first season and he completely dominates everyone and makes his two chaser team mates
look like the rookies…”

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance, an action that was mirrored by Stephanie as the boy
began retelling the main highlights of each match to the amused family.

“That sound awfully dangerous” Bianca frowned as Antonio waved her off “Leave it alone
Bianca” chided Antonio playfully “you frown now, but I’m sure when young Harry makes
the national team in a few years, you’ll be cheering along with the rest of the English
fans” he commented with a laugh. While Antonio was of Italian decent being born in Italy
himself, his wide was born in England, as were her parents, her grandparents were the
Italian born ones.

“I’m not quite sure I’m that good” Harry mumbled, finally sounding slightly embarrassed
after twenty good minutes of praise on his behalf, during which their dinner had arrived
and they had begun eating.

“Regardless” Antonio waved off “it has more to do with England’s chasers being that bad”
he said with a chuckle which Harry, Blaise and Archie shared, Bianca and Stephanie
shared a look which clearly conveyed ‘boys!’

“Hey, isn’t that Hagrid over there talking to that cloaked person?” commented Archie after
finishing his steak. The table collectively and discreetly looked over until Harry commented.

“Not many half-giants around these parts, I spotted him earlier” he frowned when he
noticed how drunk the man was getting, a drunk half-giant was never a good thing for
the establishment said giant lost his inhibitions in.

“Wonder what he’s doing…? I figured he’d probably stick to Hogsmeade, nice and close
to Hogwarts and less of a hassle…” frowned Antonio. Harry silently agreed but decided
not to worry about it, he was probably meeting here on his partner’s insistence, this
place had become rather popular these summer holidays, it wouldn’t be impossible.

Noticing no one new coming in, Remus came on over to the table and pulled up a chair for
himself, deciding to take a break.

“Hey, want to play exploding snap over there?” asked Archie, eyeing the couches on the
other side of the room and pulling out a packet.

“Not really” Harry mumbled, but Archie didn’t listen, instead opting to drag him, Stephanie
and Blaise over to the area so the ‘grown-ups’ could talk.

Archie initiated conversation as he Stephanie and Blaise played with Harry sipping on a
can of coke he had nabbed from the bar, opting not to play.

“You hear the Longbottom will be coming to Hogwarts this year, what do you think mate?”
Archie asked as the cards exploded in his face.

“Don’t care” he said with a shrug “As long as he isn’t some spoilt brat with a head too large
for his shoulders, I will probably pay just ignore him.”
“You don’t seem to like Longbottom too much” Archie commented “there a history?”

“Nope, I think our parents were friends though” he shrugged “I just care as much for him
as I care for any other first year coming to Hogwarts.”

“How much is that?” asked Blaise, interested seeing as he’d be a first year himself.

“He doesn’t” both Stephanie and Archie said simultaneously earning chuckles from the two
of them and a raised eyebrow from Harry.

“Next thing you know, you’ll be finishing each other’s sentences, marriage isn’t long after
that you know” Harry commented knowingly as Blaise sniggered, Stephanie flushed in
anger and Archie left to his ‘Happy place’ consisting of Stephanie feeding him grapes in a
bikini on a beach while lavishing attention on him.

Seeing the droll coming out of the corner of Archie’s mouth and the glazed look in his
eyes, Stephanie’s eyes narrowed “You’re not thinking perverted thoughts about me again
are you?” she said with a dangerous look in her eyes.

“I like grapes…” was all he said. Stephanie’s eyes, Harry was sure, flashed red in fury
before launching herself at the unsuspecting boy.

“You know Stephanie” Harry commented as she continued to beat on the poor boy “The
amount of times you get into these provocative situations with dear Archades combined
with the amount of times you come in contact with his genitals would suggest you are the
pervert…not him.”

It was as if Stephanie and Archie had become the same sides of a magnet, when Harry
saw the speed at which Stephanie leapt away from the boy.

Archie still lay on the floor with a goofy look on his face “Worth it…”

Stephanie was now flushed and glaring at Harry “Care to repeat that Potter?”

“Don’t start with me Stephanie, Archie may feel like you’re cheating on him if you begin to
fondle my genitals” Blaise looked lost but by the deep flush on Stephanie’s face and the
sudden angry look on Archie’s, they understood completely.

“Hands off Potter and stop sexing up my woman!”

That was a mistake Archie learned about quickly.

“Come along Stephanie, if you’re quite done harming my future son-in-law, we should get
going, it’s rather late” Bianca teased with an angelic laugh. Men around the inn that were
minding their own business, of all species, stopped and stared at her beauty when she
was near them. Antonio was used to it, he had to get used to it when he was first
courting her, else he would be sporting a head of grey hair a long time ago.

“Mum!” the girl shrieked as Archie rushed over to Bianca and pulled her in a one armed hug.

“Listen to our mother dear, we need to be going.”

Harry chuckled; Archie was going to get the shit kicked out of him for that later. It was
weird, no matter how much Stephanie tries to deny it, she doesn’t find Archie nearly half
as annoying as she makes him out to be else she would try and distance herself from him
– instead, she tends to do quite the opposite.

Harry helped bust down the tables and serve the customers when the Zabinis left for a
few hours before heading back up to his room to practise some more.

Harry stood in his room, a plethora of miniature lifelike soldiers doing a variety of tasks
around him ranging from push-ups, summersaults, cartwheels, kicking the shit out of each
other, running around, throwing things and much more. The book McGonagall had given
him at the end of last term was very helpful, surprisingly, with practising using
Transfiguration during combat.

One might wonder how in the name of Merlin this information ties in with what the heck
he’s doing right now.

The book - written by a champion duelling champion who predominantly won using
different forms of Transfiguration tactics in his fights - explained that the hardest part
about conjuring objects and charming them to fight for you was being able to focus
enough on your creations to continuously command and manoeuvre them mid-fight while
not losing sight of your opponent at the same time. An exercise she suggested was
exactly what he was doing, by starting out small with, say, a dozen objects while
multi-tasking something else, only to increase by a dozen or so when it becomes too easy.

So while his room was in utter chaos with his mini-soldiers completing random objectives
for no apparent reason, he was levitating book after book in front of him, mainly ones
regarding Arithmancy and Ancient Runes so he could be more prepared come the school
year, as he read through them and had his soldiers screw around.

As much as it was helping with his concentration and magical stamina, it was still tiring as
hell and taxing on the mind.

He was glad that he was well on his way to mastering Occlumency, he was sure it was
helping him focus his own mind on what he wanted to concentrate on and keep
unwanted and mundane things out.

Currently, in terms of Occlumency, he was learning from a book as he had already

surpassed his werewolf caretaker in skill. What he was learning at the moment was
something he thought was the most vital when practising Occlumency, clearing one’s mind
and in its place, instead of an empty head, fill it with false memories and images to
confuse an enemy or give false information. This was the step, in his opinion, to
Occlumency when things started to get serious for this exercise was solely used against
Legilimens and anyone who could naturally delve into the mind of another. Ancient
vampires like Lestat had such an ability that developed after several hundred years. Upon
a later visit, he had the vampire test his skill and found that, though he could tell when it
was a fake memory, he couldn’t pry the real ones from him.

Halting his train of thoughts, Harry flicked his wand several times and all the conjured
soldiers seemingly disappeared in thin air while all his remaining books flew in neatly into
his open trunk before stacking themselves in order.

Wiping the sweat off his face and chest quickly, for his practise sessions always seemed to
tire him magically, he called out to Lizzy.
Suddenly, with a small pop, the little female elf dressed in a small dress that covered most
of her body with an apron marked with the Moony Nights symbol – a moon mongst the
clouds – appeared looking up at him expectantly.

“What can Lizzy do for you Master Harry?” the little elf squeaked, her English sounding
better then ever now that he had taken to teaching her proper grammar seeing as she
would sometimes serve customers when Remus wasn’t around – during a full moon for instanc

“Please prepare me some breakfast Lizzy; I’ll be downstairs in ten minutes.”

“Is you going somewhere Master Harry?”

“Areyou going somewhere” Harry corrected with a smile “and I’m leaving for Hogwarts
later remember?”

As it dawned in the little elf the meaning of this, she vowed to make the best breakfast
he’ll eat for months!

“Look, it’s him”

“Hey, isn’t that the ‘Boy-who-lived’?”

“He looks so brave!”

“I don’t know, he’s kind of on the chubby side…”

“He’s our saviour!”

“I hear he’s really good at Quidditch, maybe Gryffindor will win the cup again finally!”

“How do you know he’ll be a Gryffindor…?”

“Do you see his scar?”

King’s Cross station was filled with reporters and students trying to crowd around Neville
Longbottom to get their looks at the Saviour of the Wizarding world and vanquisher of
Lord Voldemort. The boy in question was lavishing in the attention, smiling kindly at
anyone who shook his hand and ignoring the questions.

Harry, not wanting to get caught up in the crowd and not wanting to have to look for
Remus in said crowd said his goodbyes at the barrier and boarded the train, his trunk
packed safely in his pants pocket.

Arriving at the third cart from the front of the train, Harry picked a random compartment to
sit in. It was easier locating your friends this way if you agreed to sit in a certain cart, for
instead of having to look through the whole train, one could simply look through one cart.
Looking out the window as he situated himself, Harry watched with amusement as people
flocked to the Longbottom heir as if by being in his presence, they would understand the
secrets to the dark lord’s demise. Walking alongside the boy, a hand on his shoulder as she
led him through the throng of students and reporters alike was the Longbottom matriarch
clothed in dark green robes, a fox fur scarf and a large formal hat topped with a stuffed
vulture. The elderly woman made for a bizarre if not intimidating image with her cold and
stony facial features.
Harry snapped out of his train of thought when he heard the compartment opening
allowing Cedric Diggory entry.

“Hey Harry, how was summer? Did you get my birthday present for you?”

Harry nodded politely at the boy and offered him a small smile “Yeah, I’ll be sure to use
that play book to good use this year” he said with a grin, referring to a popular playbook
Cedric had sent to him for his birthday “Did you find a use for my gift?”

“Oh boy did I!” the handsome boy said exuberantly “I’m trying out for the team this
year, hopefully Seeker, I’m a good flyer, that set of armour will do me good – they’re
better then the school ones anyway” he said jovially.

The two lapsed into a one-sided conversation as Cedric related his summer activities and
the progress of the Quidditch league while Harry listened and threw in his own comments
when necessary until Archie and Stephanie arrived in the carriage.

Cedric caught up with Archie and Stephanie for a while until he departed for his own
house friends leaving the trio to lapse into their standard Hogwarts behaviour; Harry lost
in thought, Archie babbling continuously to an increasingly annoyed Stephanie who was
trying her hardest to not resort to violence. After their visit to Moony Nights and her
behaviour at the inn, her mother and father pulled her aside and told her that such
behaviour was fine as a child but was not proper for a lady when she matures. She
refrained from acting on her urges as often as she could unless it was a dire situation
where she would get it over with in one swift blow…

Several hours into the ride, a now considerably calmer Stephanie watched as Harry and
Archie engaged in a game of Wizarding chess, enjoying the fact that he had stopped
talking at her and instead, with both Harry and her as he played. They were interrupted
mid-game when a rather short yet aristocratic blonde boy barged into their cart and
looked around, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Archie and Stephanie were
fingering their wands while Harry merely looked on curiously.

“Have any of you seen Longbottom? I heard he was on this cart – are any of you him?”
he asked rudely, speaking down at them. The thuggish trolls of boy standing beside him
trying to look tough with their arms crossed in front of their chests didn’t work as an
intimidation factor as they should have; instead, they served to lower the trio’s opinion of
the blonde boy.

Harry just looked at him with a frown “What are you, an idiot?” he asked bluntly.
Suddenly the tension in the cart was released as Archie collapsed in giggles and
Stephanie snorted in amusement.

“Do you know who I am?” the boy asked, in what he probably thought, was a dangerous
tone. It was just hard for Harry to be intimidated by ½ years (which is what he referred to
children who had yet to attend a single class at school yet).

“Expensive manicure, pale blonde hair smothered with over a tub of hair gel, overly
expensive and formal dress robes, and two thugs to back you up in case your
incompetence is actually called into action? You must be a Malfoy!” Archie analysed with
amusement, however he had already known the Malfoy heir before having seen him
today from his biological father.

“You think you’re funny do you?” the Malfoy boy sneered “The name’sDraco Malfoy, and
these are my friend’s Crabbe and Goyle” he introduced, not bothering to even give their
first names “I think you should watch your tongue…Montague…don’t think I don’t know
who you are.”

“A pleasure” he said with a cheeky grin “It seems my reputation proceeds me” he said
smugly yet with amusement in his eyes.

“Please, peasant, the only noteworthy achievement to your family’s name was when your
failure of a father put down your whore of a mother” he said nastily. This was news to
Harry, as he looked to Stephanie with confusion. Seeing the girl trembling with fury, he
looked to perhaps Archie for an explanation. Instead of the usual annoying grin however,
his face was, surprisingly, set in an emotionless mask however his eyes spoke a
thousand words. His eyes were filled with fury and hate – the question was, at what exactly?

Seeing the boy’s presence was clearly affecting the compartment’s mood and things could
really get out of hand, Harry decided to take initiative before someone got in trouble or
just simply killed.

As Malfoy was looking down at Archie with a superior grin, enjoying how his remark had
hit home, he didn’t notice Harry whip out his wand and fire three quick spells in his
direction – that is until the three first years were sent flying out of the compartment via
Potter express, the ebony haired boy having fired three relatively low powered
bludgeoning curses at them and closed the door with a locking charm.

Stephanie whirled on him, ready to chew him out, however he shut her up with a single
look. As Stephanie balked at the glare Harry sent her, she noticed him motion over to
Archie whose face was still set in an emotionless mask while his body was trembling
slightly. The boy’s knuckles had turned white from the pressure they were under from the
fists he was making.

Understanding immediately, Stephanie immediately began to comfort the boy with

hushed whispers as she held him in a gentle embrace. Not needing to be told, Harry got
up and left the compartment with a nod towards Stephanie who smiled gratefully at him,
however, to his amusement, the three boys were currently passed out outside their
compartment.

Unfortunately for him, Percy Weasley, recently made prefect was not impressed.

“What exactly happened here?!” he shouted, trying to assert some form of authority over
the situation as students came out of nearby compartments to see what the commotion
was about.

“Percival” Harry greeted coolly “how…nice…to see you.”

Bristling at the use of his full name, he never liked it; he glared at the third year “Potter,
as a prefect I demand to know what happened here!”

Harry suddenly looked down and gasped in mock surprise “Oh my, someone should
remove that” he motioned towards Crabbe and Goyle “those two could be considered a
fire hazard! And the blonde one’s hair could be also! Certainly you should be more aware
of the Hogwarts Express’s safety regulations honourable prefect.”

Without being dismissed, Harry left a gaping Percy Weasley with several sniggering students.
Harry swiftly made his way to the bathroom, not really needing to go personally but
opting to freshen up to pass the time until Stephanie has Archie under control. On the
way however, he was stopped by someone tapping him on the shoulder from behind.
Turning around, he was greeted with the sight of a short and somewhat bossy looking
bushy haired girl with large front teeth.

“Excuse me, have you seen a toad, a boy I know has misplaced it?”

Harry just continued to look at the girl, pondering if her question even merited a response.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked, completely changing the subject.

The girl seemed to flush in embarrassment, for what reason, Harry didn’t know – or
refused to acknowledge.

“Hermione Granger” she answered, she seemed to find her shoes to be very interesting
at the moment.

Instead of possibly starting a conversation, or at least informing her about the toad like
she though, Harry simply turned away and into the small bathroom they were standing
outside while slamming the door in her face, leaving a confused and slightly angry girl behind.

“How rude!”

When Harry arrived back at the card, he was met with the sight of Archie sleeping on a
sleeping Stephanie’s lap; the boy was lying longways along the seat while Stephanie was
leaning against the window with her legs up on the opposite seat. Giving the two their
privacy, Harry left the compartment and cast several of the strongest one way locking
and obscuring charms he knew before deciding to go for a walk.

On his way, he saw several interesting sights. One of these was a pair of fifth years
snogging in what they thought was private on the floor in a compartment, the interesting
thing being that one was a Gryffindor and the other a Slytherin; another interesting thing
was the Weasley twins setting a whole box of opened chocolate frogs loose in the cart of
the prefect’s meeting, but the most interesting of all was what he was witnessing at that
very moment.

“…you must be a Weasley” Malfoy finished with disgust, Harry noticed that whatever he
had said must have angered the young Weasley for the boy’s freckled face flushed with
anger and embarrassment. The Granger girl he had come across earlier was standing to
the red headed boy’s right while Neville Longbottom himself was glaring at the Malfoy
heir, anger and fury in his eyes.

“Leave Malfoy, I don’t want to be friends with someone as evil as you” Longbottom
hissed. Harry thought it was a rather presumptuous statement to think an eleven year old
could be ‘evil’ but he continued to watch in amusement. He wasn’t the only one enjoying
the show either, Cedric and his friends looked to be watching with interest as well as
several other students.

“You’ll regret this Longbottom!” Malfoy shouted “Don’t forget what I offered you when
you end up like your parents!” Harry frowned at that, the boy would surely get hurt or
worse killed eventually if he continued to insult people’s parents, not that he cared too
much, but still, surely someone from a family full of Slytherins would have a better sense
of self preservation?
Before a fight could break out, Percy Weasley, in all his prefect-y goodness came in and
ushered everyone away. Harry locked eyes with Malfoy and cocked his head to the
side, amusement dancing in his eyes. When Malfoy just flushed in anger and stalked off,
Harry had to grin, the boy didn’t seem very bright.

The whistle of the train blew there times, indicating that they were approaching
Hogsmeade station. Harry headed back to his carriage to get changed into his robes and
wake up his friends before the train arrived. It promised to be an interesting year at
Hogwarts this year.
Chapter: 11
Chapter 12: Archie’s Mother

The great hall grew silent as Neville Longbottom’s name was called to be sorted.
Unsurprisingly, however, the second the hat touched the confident boy’s head, it boomed
out the house of the Lions to the collection of staff and students listening with bated
breath. There was a mere three seconds of silence following the proclamation until the
hall erupted in cheers, mainly from the Gryffindor table who ,as a whole, were ecstatic
that they had received ‘Longbottom’.

During the sorting ceremony, Harry was barely paying attention to any of the names
being called out, opting to reflect upon what happened back on the train and Archades’s
unusual behaviour following the Malfoy brat’s taunt.

Archie had been taunted before, but never had there been a reaction like that. The boy
would usually just shrug it off and continue on with his day which normally consisted with
his face buried in a Quidditch or Potions text, joking around, or making passes at
Stephanie. The thought that something also happened to his mother in the past that
caused irreparable damage to the brown haired boy’s psyche, disgustingly enough,
brought a sense of happiness to the ebony haired youth. Not for the tragedy that must
have befallen her, he would wish that on nobody, but this meant that the two of them
shared something in common that not many people would and though the two of them
were usually completely different people; it was nice to know they had the same problems…

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Blaise was sorted into Slytherin, much like his
older sister, and the headmaster stood from his table.

“I know you must all be very hungry and wish to begin with the feast” he joked, eyes
twinkling merrily as there was a collective groan in the hall “but announcements must be
made when you are most attentive; first of all, as usual, the Forbidden Forest is strictly
out of bounds to anyone not wishing to face the most severe punishments or death at
the hands of those which lurk within” to the shock of Harry and Archie, they both could
have sworn the aged headmaster’s eyes flickered towards the two.

“Mister Filch, our caretaker, has also asked me to remind you that no spells or feats of
magic are to be performed between classes in the corridors.

Also, those who wish to try out for their Quidditch House teams need to contact Madam
Hooch before the second week of term to see about gaining permission to do so.

Finally, I must stress that the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is strictly out of
bounds to those who do not wish to die a very horrible and painful death.”

There were a few scattered laughs around the hall but the majority of the students had
simply paled at the implications.

Harry zoned out when Dumbledore introduced their new Defence against the Dark Arts
teacher, Professor Quirrel, a man wearing a violet turban who looked to be scared of his
own shadow, especially if the fact that he stuttered during every word was any sign of that.
One thing was for sure, Hogwarts promised to be interesting this year.

Classes, Quidditch practise and individual study resumed as normal for Harry and Archie,
with the exception of their two new electives that they had taken up this year.

In his opinion, Ancient Runes was by far the most humorous yet interesting class he had
at Hogwarts. He wasn’t as adept at Runes like he was in Charms, Transfiguration and
pretty much every other class to some extent, which served to give him some sort of
challenge in his learning. Runes, taught by Professor Sinistra (the astronomy teacher),
began in the early years with working on identifying ancient and difficult to translate
Runic languages, some examples of this were ancient Egyptian, Celtic, Atlantian, Aztec
and the list went on. Being quite the linguist himself, having mastered speaking in three
non-English languages (French, Japanese and Parseltongue), he could appreciate and
enjoy the effort involved in learning more.

As expected, Archie was all over Sinistra in their classes. His eyes would remain glued to
the gorgeous professor’s impressive bust and shapely rear with a spaced out expression
– he wasn’t the only one either. It seemed to Harry like he was the only male in the class
that actually took it to learn the subject instead of having free perv sessions. Of course,
Sinistra hadn’t exactly discouraged this behaviour judging by the clothes she wore, one
would think she lavished in the attention.

“Okay class” came the voice of their Professor from the door as she strolled in carrying
several books under her breasts with both hands, pushing her bust up further creating an
effect Archie definitely appreciated “open your books to page three seventy-two, we will
be reviewing last week’s work on identifying Celtic runes” as she slapped her books down
on her desk, one fell to the floor. With a disappointed groan, she bent over to pick it up,
her back facing the class. It was at that moment that he heard Archie blessing the
muggles and their ingenious clothing inventions, as Sinistra had been wearing a knee length
skirt split down the side that when she bent over rode fairly high up, going as far to
reveal the top of her pantyhose.

“I wonder if Stephanie wears those…or Bianca…” he trailed off, eyes dazed with a
whimsical expression.

Harry looked to his friend in disgust “I thought you said Bianca was like a mother to you.”

“Like, my good man, is quite far from being one, therefore I will feel no moral or ethical
dilemmas when I add those images to my frequent and quite erotic daydreams – look,
she’s bending over again!” he whispered with excitement as Professor Sinistra bent over
to pick up a loose piece of parchment.

Harry had put that memory away in a Pensieve, eager to use it as blackmail material in
the future by threatening to show that to any member of the Zabini family – he hadn’t
forgotten about the Parseltongue ‘mix-up’.

His other elective, Arithmancy, proved to also be a challenge. Equations upon equations,
algorithms upon algorithms, and studying upon studying were what was expected on a
daily basis from Professor Vector in her class. The only other person taking the class with
him that he knew on a personal level was Stephanie so he often paired up with her to do
work. The class was by far one of the more complex branches of magic he had ever
studied, and that was at simply third year level, he was comparing it to NEWT level
Transfiguration!
Every class, they were expected to work through sheets of practise equations that
involved some faux magical situation such as why a certain potion needed to be stirred a
specific number of times, or why a wand needed to be twirled by this specific degree to
achieve the desired effect. A master at the subject, she had told them, would find having
a respectable career as a curse-breaker was a definite possibility for Arithmancy and the
ability to break down wards numerically was common practise and almost required to pull
apart the most complex of wards.

Though professor Vector was also very beautiful in an ‘I’ll crush your balls if you even
glance in my behind’s general direction’ kind of way, no one thought it was worth the
effort to take the class just to perv – it was that difficult.

Archie, as his second elective, has chosen to take Care of Magical creatures saying that
if he ever wanted to obtain rare potions ingredients from them in the future, he would
need to know how to fight or care for them.

For Stephanie’s second elective, she chose to take Muggle Studies. She was the eldest
Zabini child, even though not a male; it would be most likely that she would be in charge of
the finances even though she wasn’t the heir. The Zabini family dealt in both the Muggle
and Magical world with their businesses, and thus, she would have to have a firm grasp
of both worlds to be effective in such a venture.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch team had to hold another round of tryouts this year, this time to
fill the position of seeker. Allison Spencer had, much to their captain’s joy, gotten herself
pregnant. Suffice to say, Ellwood had to replace her, and he did so with the second year
Cho Chang – the girl Archie and Harry had met after the forest fiasco in their first year.
They also had to replace their keeper due to Worthington graduating last year and they
did so with a fairly good fourth year. Their team may not have been as experienced as
last year’s but they weren’t facing the likes of Charley Weasley so it really didn’t matter.

Speaking of Quidditch, in a bizarre turn of events that began with a verbal spar between
Malfoy and Longbottom and ended with Longbottom rescuing someone’s book bag from
the lake, Longbottom had been named seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team – the
youngest player in over a century. The rumour was that he was a good flyer, Harry
wasn’t deterred though; he knew that the Ravenclaw chasers were more then enough to
win the game should he prove to be better then Chang.

Malfoy had also proven to be quite the menace, well, as menacing as annoying little
‘firsties’ could be with nothing but words to back them up. Harry conceded though that
when the brat grew somewhat older and his family name inevitably gave him some form of
political sway in the Slytherin house, Stephanie wouldn’t be so safe. She had her friends in
the Slytherin house, no doubt, but not many of them would chose to fight Malfoy for
her, they were superficial like that. Archie had proposed to put the ‘scare’ on Malfoy
before that could happen, Harry pretended to agree but he had other plans to combat
such a nuisance.

Third year students and above were permitted to venture into Hogsmeade once a month
in third year with the permission of their parents or guardians. This, unfortunately,
marked the beginning of ‘dates’ as previously, had there been couples, being at school all
year really offered no place to go on dates except for broom closets (not the most
romantic of places). This of course, coupled with Harry’s new found popularity as a
Quidditch star (his Parseltongue abilities all but forgotten) meant that girls were asking him
left right and centre to go on dates with them. He never accepted any, of course, opting
to ignore them instead of dignifying them with a response, but that just proved to be
detrimental, as they just tried harder to obtain his attention.

“So, Hogsmeade huh?” Stephanie commented as they worked on their equation sheet in
Arithmancy. Harry resisted the urge to groan, she was not seriously contemplating with
he thought she was contemplating.

“Hogsmeade?” Harry imitated with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you know how…people go and stuff” she commented in a most undignified manner.

“Hmm” Harry made no outward sign of approval or disapproval.

“Well” she commented, undeterred “I was wondering if…if you’re not busy of course…if
we can…you know…go…together?”

Harry, not even batting an eye, answered her.

“Nope” man this equation was a doozey, was what was going on inside his head at that mome

“Why…why not?” the girl sounded crushed and Harry, unlike the others, actually felt a
small amount of sympathy for her. Unlike the other girls, this one actually knew him and
was probably asking him because she liked him. Regardless, he wouldn’t do that to his
best friend.

“Do you really need to ask Stephanie?” he asked, amusement laced in his words.

“Oh come on! He’s not going to ask me and what makes you think I want to go with him
anyway!”

“He’s not going to ask you because you’ve done a mighty fine job of discouraging any
advances he may want to make in the future, despite how much he really does like
you…” he could, of course, put his friend on a pedestal, all the more reason for him to
owe him one later “those ‘Love Taps’ of yours are quite powerful, a lesser man would
have probably given up completely by now.”

Flushing in embarrassment at how her groin slams on Archie had developed a name, she
turned to him, her work forgotten, and took in his appearance.

“You’re not going with someone else are you?”

“Negative.”

“Why not? You could probably take anyone in school, as disturbing as that may be…” she
said with a cringe “You’re not…you know…” she made some Archie worthy hand gestures
to try and ‘charade’ him homosexuality.

Harry’s quill stopped abruptly from completing the equations and analytical problems he
had been given and was dunked in the ink pot. Looking to Stephanie with a slight smirk,
he got up from his chair and walked over to the teacher’s desk where Professor Vector
was marking some upper class’s work. Before she could realize he was there, he put his
hand under her chin, raised the shocked professor’s head up and planted a soft yet
chaste kiss on her lips before pulling away and walking out of the classroom as the bell rang.

No one ever questioned his sexuality again and Harry Potter was forever known as a
god amongst men, despite the fact that he had to serve a week’s worth of attention for
the stunt he pulled.

All too soon, Halloween rolled around and the feast that accompanied it. Not feeling as
‘festive’ as his friends, he had informed them that he would be in the library should they
need him and would meet them later in the evening.

Having completed all his homework assignments that he had been given for Potions,
Runes and Arithmancy, Harry thought it time to head back to the dorms. By his watch,
the other students should still be at the feast so he could kick back and read a book of his
choosing when he got back to the dorms in complete silence.

Just when the thought of complete silence started to sound good, the corridor he was
walking down thundered loudly, causing the suits of armour he was surrounded by to
rumble and clatter.

Silence followed the initial booming sound so he just played it off as a Weasley twins’
prank – that was until the thundering noise came back, only to be followed by another,
and another and another.

Following the source of the noise, too curious for his own good (he would later
admonish), he noticed that he was being led to the fourth floor girl’s bathroom. As he
rounded the corner he met with something he most certainly didn’t expect to see walking
into the girl’s bathroom.

A fully grown mountain troll.

The stench was horrid, probably only matched in disgustingness by its looks. It had a
rather large wooden club and was dressed in large and ragged clothes. It had grey and
lumpy skin with wickedly horned feet.

Harry just stared at the space the troll had occupied before ducking into the bathroom,
not sure how much time had passed, until he heard a scream.

A girl’s scream…

Someone was in that bathroom!

Taking only a split second to groan in annoyance, he leapt forwards, already prepared to
land on all fours as he changes into his cat Animagus form for extra speed. As fast as he
can, Harry covered the space between the beginning of the corridor and the bathroom
itself only to see the form of Hermione Granger huddled, rather stupidly he had the time
to assess, under a sink as the troll systematically crushed each one, looking for her.

Sighing in annoyance, Harry admonished himself for not attending the feast like the rest
of the students before whipping out his wand and firing three successive and silent
blasting hexes at the beast.

To his surprise, the spells were virtually absorbed by the beast’s skin, causing it to stagger
slightly forwards before whipping around, club held high and ready to smash something,
and roaring in fury.

Well shit, he had to just go and make it mad.

Seeing the girl still huddled under the sink made him slightly peeved “What are you an
Idiot Granger?! Run!”

Not needing to be told twice, the girl rushed out of her hiding spot and towards the door,
but the troll wasn’t going to give up on its prey that easily as it swung its club sideways to
crush the girl into the wall. Betting that its club wasn’t spell resistant, Harry fired another
blasting hex, however, this one was aimed at the club which promptly exploded into
thousands of splinters. The troll looked dumbly at the stump where his club used to be
and made a grunting noise that sounded like he was asking ‘what the hell happened?’

Not letting his advantage go to waste and satisfied that the girl had fled the bathrooms,
Harry cast a freezing charm on the water at the troll’s feet, water that had been spraying
out for some time. Glad that the troll hadn’t noticed yet and that he had limited its
manoeuvrability by a great amount, Harry looked around the room to devise a plan.

The troll, finally realizing what had happened, roared in fury and charged at Harry, only to
start slipping and sliding in his direction. Harry summoned large pieces of debris from
around him until it was right in front of him and systematically banished piece after piece
at the troll’s head. Few actually hit but the ones that did caused it to fall backwards yet
continue to slide in his direction, rolling out of the way, Harry cast a blasting hex at
section of the ceiling the troll would be under when it slammed into the wall – the results
were impressive to say the least.

Large chunks of stone and wood beams fell from the ceiling and onto the troll, knocking it
out and encasing it in a prison that would take some effort to escape given that it was
still probably lying on a sheet of ice.

The doors suddenly burst open revealing Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape,
Quirrel, Flitwick and Sprout staring at him in shock.

Who wouldn’t stare at a third year student in shock that had his wand out and was
breathing in pants as he stood beside an unconscious and half buried mountain troll?

“Your timing is impeccable Professors” he said sarcastically “Would anyone care to explain
how a Mountain Troll was able to waltz on up to the fourth floor unnoticed and attack a
student in the process?” he asked, glaring slightly at Dumbledore.

“Arrogant as ever you little piece of shi…” Snape started.

“Severus” Dumbledore cut off, a hint of warning in his tone “Mister Potter, would you care
to enlighten us to the reason why you are not in your common room where it would have
been safe as instructed by myself earlier during the feast?” he asked, he too looking
between the troll and the student before him in shock and awe.

“You mean other then the fact that I wasn’t at said feast?” he asked, amusement laced
with his words “You still haven’t answered my question Headmaster, and could you please
stop glaring at me Professor Snape, it is rather annoying…”

“Twenty points from Ravenclaw for…”

“What exactly?” Flitwick interjected “I see no rule breaking here, mister Potter cannot
have disobeyed any orders if he had not been given them himself, if anything I do believe
fifty points to Ravenclaw are in order for the rather convincing defeat of a mountain
troll, wouldn’t you say headmaster?”
“Indeed Filius” the headmaster agreed, a twinkle in his eye.

“Did you learn anything from this experience Mister Potter?” asked his humoured head of hous

“Yeah, troll hide is quite spell resistant…”

The little professor chuckled in his high pitched voice, later joined by Dumbledore and
Sprout while McGonagall and Snape were glaring at him, the former as if she knew
something and the latter as if hoping his glare would make him drop dead on the spot.
Quirrel had his hand on his chest to calm his breathing, seemingly in shock as he collapsed
to the ground, staring at the troll in fear.

Aside from the professors present, only one other person knew what actually happened
that night…

“It’s really not that hard, you just need to make sure you take into account oomph what the f…”

Stephanie burst out laughing as Harry’s lecture was interrupted when a small lump of
bushy brown hair ambushed him outside the Arithmancy classroom and tackled him in a hug.

“You’re fan girls are getting braver Potter, soon they’ll be throwing their panties at you
as you walk by” she said, smirking at the scowling youth.

“Granger?” asked Harry “Granger!” Harry tried again only to realize that the girl was
sobbing as latched onto him, refusing to let go. Harry looked to Stephanie with a pleading
look only to be smirked at again and be greeted with the girl’s back.

Vowing to get revenge against the sadistic girl, he pried the hysterical girl off of him, only
to be met with an interesting amount of resistance.

“Unhand me Granger!” he hissed, he was starting to make out what she was saying
through her sobs. Apologies for putting him in such a situation as she did during
Halloween, thanks for saving her, apologies if he had been in trouble because of her…

Not liking that they were drawing other people’s attention, he hissed at her in
Parseltongue which promptly caused her to let go of him with a shriek.

Satisfied that she had finally let go, he began to straighten his robes only to be faced
with another problem.

“You’re a Parselmouth?!” the loud declaration came from Ron Weasley, who was stalking
up to the two with Longbottom by his side.

Not even choosing to dignify that question with a response, Harry just moved past the
chubby boy and his red headed sidekick only to meet resistance as Longbottom grabbed
his arm, rather roughly he noted.

“You just did some dark and evil magic on her!” he accused “Undo it or else!” the
boy-who-lived threatened. Students who knew of Harry’s magical prowess were looking
at Longbottom as if he’d grown a second head and Harry, well, he was just pissed off.

“Hey Potter what’s the hold up…what in Merlin’s name…” Archie had come looking for his
friend who was supposed to meet up with him before Potions only to be met with this
spectacle. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Archie made everyone back away.

“Wait, wait, wait…okay continue!” he urged with a grin, only serving to fuel Harry’s annoyance.

“You have three seconds to unhand me Longbottom” he warned.

“Not until you tell me what evil spell you used on Hermione you dark wizard!”

“One…”

“Listen here you git, you don’t scare me, I demand to know what you…”

“Two…”

“If you think you can so casually dismiss someone like me, you’re sorely…”

“Three!”

Everyone watching winced in sympathy as Harry flicked out his wand and with a few
wand movements had Neville hanging upside down without his pants on and attached to
a portrait.

“My grandmother will hear of this!” the boy fumed, his face flushed with embarrassment
as the students started to laugh at his ‘Boy-who-lived’ boxers were shown to the world
“I’ll have you expelled!”

Harry ignored the crowd of students and, grabbing Archie by his elbow, stalked off to
Potions leaving a fuming Hermione lecturing a half naked Neville behind. It was only as he
was leaving did he realize that Neville never asked what he said.

Harry sat in his mother’s room on Christmas day, playing his guitar as per usual while
reflecting on his last couple of months in school.

Time had flown by rather quickly as he had been keeping himself busy with his homework,
Quidditch practise and independent studies.

Neville had done as promised and aside from a slap on the wrist for using magic in the
corridors, nothing was done as it was proven by several eye witness accounts that the
boy-who-lived had been the one to instigate the argument; Neville was ordered to serve
detention with Hagrid in the forbidden forest for a week.

Their first Quidditch match against Gryffindor and Longbottom’s debut ended in a landslide
victory to the blue and bronze as Chang caught the snitch and Harry, along with Ellwood
and Davis, tore up the pitch and put twelve goals past Wood – it would have been more
had Wood, the Gryffindor captain, not been so skilled. Surprisingly though, Longbottom’s
broom bucked wildly for half a minute during the game only to stop when some commotion
in the audience caught everyone’s attention – this was information he had been given
after the match of course as he was focused on other matters at the time.

Archie had also, at his insistence, puckered up the courage to ask Stephanie to
Hogsmeade, however whatever romantic ideas the boy had were completely thrown at
the window when all she did was take him book shopping. Cedric and Harry, who had
been sharing a Butterbear at the ‘Three Broomsticks’ while flirting with its owner, Madam
Rosmerta (a rather attractive woman who enjoyed the students company, especially the
‘charmers’ as she had dubbed Cedric and Harry) were amused to see Archie come in with
Stephanie later that day with an armful of rather heavy looking tomes. Cedric had earned
one of said tomes to the head when he made a comment about the boy already being
whipped. Stephanie just smirked at the joke, knowing it was quite true.

Harry suddenly stopped playing his mother’s guitar when he sensed someone enter the
room. Looking through one of the mirrors on the other side of his mother’s bed, he was
surprised to see Archie standing there with a melancholy expression and a bouquet of
flowers, red tulips, his mother’s favourites – somebody did their homework…

“What are you doing here Archades?” Harry asked, sounding slightly irritated that the
one day he had alone with his mother every year had been imposed upon and interrupted.

Archie didn’t answer, instead he placed the bouquet by his mother’s side on the bedside
table and stood next to Harry who was sitting on a high stool, guitar still under his arm yet
all was silent.

“My mother…” began Archie, getting Harry’s attention “My mother’s name was Isabella
Marie Montague…she was a beautiful woman…lived for her family and children, you
know?” he asked with a chuckle. Harry didn’t laugh.

“She married my father young, it was an arranged marriage, see? And she was sold off
at the age of seventeen, she was twenty when she gave birth to me, seventeen for my
brother…” this was the first Harry had ever heard of Archie having siblings, but he
continued to remain silent.

“I loved her, from what I remember, I loved her so much…she was the greatest mother
one could hope for. She was always very proper, but because she was so young, she
always had fun with us and would always be there for us whenever father would punish
us” he said, tears were rolling down the boy’s eyes as he told his story. His face never
met Harry’s, merely looking at Lily on the bed as he continued.

“This one time, I got into trouble for stealing father’s broomstick and trying to ride around
on it despite being told to never steal from others” he snorted “I was a pureblood, the
best, we steal from no-one, only commoners and filth steal” he recited, as if he had been
told that hundreds of times “obviously my father caught me…and punished me…it was bad…

My mother though, she just took me to my room and sung me to sleep, the next morning
she made me my favourite breakfast and bought me my own training broom…she was
always like that, willing to do anything to see me smile…its one of the few memories I
have of her…

One night…” here Archie’s voice cracked by he continued regardless “one night, when
she was on an errand, she was attacked by a gang of werewolves, but before they could
kill her, the Aurors arrived and saved her life. Fortunately or unfortunately, however
which way you look at it, she survived but she was turned…she got her injuries treated
and was sent back home, none of us expected a thing…

Things that large can never be kept a secret though, not for long…” here Archie’s fists
balled and he got a look of hate in his eyes “Gabriel, my brother, discovered mother’s
secret when he saw her sneak off to the manor’s outhouse to change under the guise of
silencing and obscuring charms…being the fucker that he is and the daddy’s boy…he
immediately went and informed father…” more tears started leaking from his eyes as he
tried to control his emotions. Harry listened patiently as his friend bared his soul to him
while also looking at his mother.

“As you can imagine…my father wasn’t too pleased that his wife had become a
‘half-breed monstrosity’, he was all into the pure-blood supremacy, you know? I think he
was a part of ‘You-know-who’s’ inner circle too…I can’t be sure though…” he paused,
collecting his thoughts before he continued “while she was weak, he knocked her out and
took her away, I had no idea where, but two days later my father took us to a room in
the basement that I had never seen before and had just been recently created, I’d
hazard a guess…the room had a door, a window and that was it…in the room was my
mother, broken, beaten, tied up…I’ll never forget how bad she looked…she was
bleeding…down there, so I can only imagine that she was…several times…” his voice
continued to break up as he screwed his eyes shut, probably hoping to wish away the
images “he wasn’t done with her though…he told us…father” he spat the name with so
much hate that it caught Harry of guard “he told us that this is what happened to
half-breed monstrosities like her…”

Suddenly, Archie planted his fist into the wall as hard as he could. Harry winced at the
contact, those walls were charmed to be unbreakable, he definitely just broke something
“He killed her as he watched…the room was charmed to turn to silver after a certain time
period…so after he let all his buddies have their ways with her however they so
pleased…she would die as per the room’s functions…I watched my mother burn to death
and all she did was smile at me and say she loved me…she couldn’t even say it, her vocal
cords were that damaged…but she mouthed it and I understood…she was burning and all
she did was tell me how much she loved me…no tears, just that smile…I’ll never forget it…”

Harry suddenly got the urge to find a certain little blonde haired brat and put his head
through a wall, but he still remained silent “After that, I got the broom my mother bought
for me and fled with as much of my belongings as possible…I didn’t have an idea where I
was going…I probably wasn’t thinking straight and I was only six at the time…but I just
flew…luckily for me, I ended up in the Zabini’s garden passed out…lucky because Bianca
knew my mother well…they were like sisters after all, they did everything
together…Hogwarts…marriage... they were both betrothed you see?”

Archie wiped his tears away furiously as he composed himself “Suffice to say Antonio and
Bianca weren’t too happy when they discovered what happened but what could they
do? My mother’s body was burned in that room so there was no evidence and even if
they had a trial, my father’s influence would buy his way out of any trouble… they
decided to keep me and let me live with them after that… Antonio has some good
connections so my father had no chance of getting me back…though he only tried once
and that wasn’t very hard…”

Archie paused, collecting his thoughts “When I was old enough to understand what
happened, I vowed…I vowed to myself that I’d spend the rest of my life discovering a
way for werewolves to live happier and easier lives…it’s why I love Potions so
much…therein lies the answer to all my problems… I intend to make a Potion someday that
will allow anybody inflicted with the Lycanthropy disease full control over their inner wolf
and transformations… it would be just like having an Animagus…”

Harry finally spoke after several minutes of silence “Is that why you went into the
forbidden forest second year? You need that plant?”

Archie nodded “Moon Thistle, it’s a plant that has several calming properties that is
strongest during a full moon; it’s under stasis at the moment so it remains fully potent
until I need to use it…”
Harry nodded, admitting that he would have done the same thing under the same
circumstances.

“My story isn’t as…dark” he admitted “but I figure you have a right to know anyway…”
Harry began “during the end of the last war with Voldemort” Archie shivered at the name
“my parents were attacked, not long after Voldemort fell at the Longbottom manor.
Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch junior all attacked my
family’s home wanting to find out information about their lord, ready to torture if need
be… they obviously weren’t expecting my father to be so powerful in this plan of theirs…
when they attacked, my mother took me upstairs to protect me while my father duelled
and defeated the three males of the group, however just as he bound the last of the
three, Barty Crouch junior got a killing curse off and killed him. Bellatrix Lestrange snuck
behind the fight and up to my mother and after a furious duel, one which my mother
won; she sent an unknown dark curse at me, one which my mother took in my place…
Fortunately, my mother sent a powerful stunner before she jumped in the way of the
course, one which hit Bellatrix and knocked her out, however, the curse which Bellatrix
sent…well, this is the result” he said, motioning to his mother “she has been in a coma for
twelve years, not quite alive and not quite dead. No healer has been able to fix her and
any attempts to get any information from Bellatrix herself on the curse she used have
turned up hopeless…”

Harry looked at his mother’s prone form as his voice took on a hard edge “That should be
me lying in that bed, not her…she didn’t deserve this… every second I live my life is a
second she should be living, happy, not stuck in some magical coma while being forced to
live like a vegetable… Bellatrix will pay, Azkaban or not…she will pay and I will cure my
mother…it’s the least I owe to her… It’s why I study so hard…every bit of knowledge I
obtain makes me that much more powerful and every bit of power I obtain will help me in
curing her…”

Archie smiled at Harry before his eyes turned cold and uncaring “I intend to kill my
father…he will be begging for death before I’ll be merciful enough to finally grant it…”

Harry nodded yet didn’t comment, what could he say? He completely agreed with his
friend, though he honestly thought death was too good for him.

“Visiting time is ending in fifteen minutes please finish your business and make your way
home, I repeat “Visiting time is ending in fifteen minutes please finish your business and
make your way home” a voice called out to the permanent injuries ward. It was only then
that Harry realized how late it was. Packing away his guitar, he kissed his mother’s warm
forehead before heading out of the room.

Archie and Harry walked in silence, a new level of respect and depth added to their friendship.

“You know, you were pretty good with that guitar…chicks dig guys that can play instruments…”

“Archades?”

“Mhmm?”

“Shut up”

There were a few more moments of silence until...

“You know, your dad was a lucky man, your mum is fucking hot…”

“Archades…” Harry warned the slight quirking of his lips and the mirth in his eyes didn’t
really dissuade Archie all that much.

“I mean, I’m not one for red heads usually, but damn…”

Taking a page out of Stephanie’s book, Harry kneed his friend right in the balls, wincing
himself as he made contact…good contact…he could probably kick a lot harder than
Stephanie could.

Harry continued to walk away, whistling a tune and a swing in his step as Archie
whimpered pitifully on the floor; then again, perhaps their friendship hadn’t evolved at all…
Chapter: 12
Chapter 13: The Philosopher’s Stone

Today was Valentines Day, a day Harry had only learned to cope with by simply ignoring
everything and everyone that even tried to initiate any form of communications with
him, whether it be in the form of conversations, mail or ‘googly eyes’.

He honestly wouldn’t complain if the stupid day was destroyed all together, then perhaps
he could avoid situations like the one he was in now. Sitting in a pile in front of him would
literally have to be fifty letters, all from various females from the school no doubt.

Archie sat beside him with a broad smile as he too had received his own stack of around
twenty valentines, causing Harry to remind himself that even though Archie acted like a
moron sometimes...

Most of the time…

Ok, perhaps all the time…

Even given that fact, he was still, from what gossip dictated, one of the ‘hottest’ guys in
school. He did no such thing to dissuade such a rumour or public opinion; in fact, he did
everything to encourage it. Harry had almost busted his gut from holding in his laughter a
couple of weeks previous when Archie had continuously, and purposefully, dropped his
quill in front of some first and second year girls and made a show of bending over while
sticking out his posterior as much as possible in a pair of rather tight sweat pants.

It was rather ridiculous, he was thirteen years old, and he seriously doubted that they
would appreciate the view of a bony and skinny ass such as Archie’s.

He was wrong.

Harry had been dumbstruck when two of the girls, Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe
had just blushed and giggle squealed. That last part probably wouldn’t make much sense
if he explained what he heard to a third party, but it is the only way to explain the sound
he heard.

It was a combination of a high pitch giggle and a squeal that he was positive only female
members of the human species had the ability to replicate.

“Oh mate, check it out, I’m a regular chick magnet!” Archie gushed with excitement as he
read through all his letters.

Harry looked at him in amusement as he practically dive bombed into his little pile and
read through the letters.

“Enjoying yourself then?” Harry asked the energetic boy.

“Now, now Harry, just because the females are beginning to notice that I am by far a
better specimen of the male species, that’s no reason to turn all sour – take your loss like
a man” he cooed in an annoying tone, completely ignoring Harry’s pile of valentines day
cards the owls had so graciously dumped on him that was currently dwarfing Archie’s own.

Harry grinned before responding, a rather ingenious idea coming to mind “I guess that
means Stephanie is no longer off the market – as it were – seeing as you’re having a
rather fun time with all your new secret admirers…” he enjoyed the look of horror that
dawned on Archie’s features, it would only get better “which is just as well, she did ask
me to Hogsmeade after all, I should probably take her up on that offer…”

“SHE WHAT?!” Archie bellowed in the middle of the great hall, drawing everyone’s
attention – the boy didn’t seem to care though.

Harry sent a smirk over to Stephanie who had snapped her head in their direction with a
look of horror on her face – her ‘Archie is about to do something incredibly embarrassing to
her’ senses had been fine tuned over the years they had grown up together, so
naturally, they must be currently ‘tingling’ in overdrive.

Harry would later recall how amusing it was that Stephanie face contorted into different
degrees of shock and horror the closer Archie came to her, finally finishing on downright
frantic when he kneeled in front of her and grabbed her hands in his own while giving her
the ‘kicked puppy’ look.

“Stephanie, my sweet, you can’t take Harry to Hogsmeade, he’s no good for you!”

Stephanie sent a frosty glare over at Harry who was humming merrily while snacking on
his breakfast; oh she would make him pay for this.

“But he didn’t…”

“NO!” Archie interrupted “I don’t want to hear it! I know he’s real good at Quidditch, and
school, and that he’s the number one student in our year level, and he’s, I say this
objectively of course, a fairly good looking bloke, and he’s somewhat funny in a real
messed up and cruel sort of way…” Archie trailed off in horror at what he was saying
“DON’T LISTEN TO WHAT I JUST SAID! HE’S BAD! HE KICKS BABIES FOR FUN! BABIES
STEPHY! INNOCENT LITTLE BABIES THAT NEVER HURT NOBODY!”

Harry was starting to get annoyed; a guy can’t make one comment about kicking a baby
Snape in the face and enjoying it without it coming around to bite him in the ass!

Stephanie, noticing they literally had the entire hall’s attention, most of whom were
thoroughly enjoying her blight and snigger in their direction – the most embarrassing of
all though was Professor Dumbledore, whose beard kept twitching in an effort to still his
laughter.

“Archie” she said, after taking a few deep breaths and resisting the urge to go find a fire
poker and stab it in a rather uncomfortable place in Archie, his urethra spring to mind…
“Let go of me and go back to your table please, you’re embarrassing me” she all but
pleaded in a calm yet desperate voice.

Archie would have none of that however, the boy was bordering on hysteria now as he
broke out into exaggerated sobs in her lap, still holding her hands in his “He doesn’t care
about you like I do!” he wailed, adding more sobs into his little display, Harry resisted the
urge to palm his face “he won’t treat you right! Look at him, cheating on Professor Vector
already! That poor yet extremely sexy in an ‘I’ll crush your balls if you even glance in my
behind’s general direction’ woman!” he paused in his little rant to mutter out ‘Lucky
Bastard’, a sentiment that seemed to be shared by every male in the room, who nodded
sagely upon hearing that.

Harry was sure said woman was glaring holes in the back of his head, deciding that if he
was going to get punished again, he may as well do something to earn it. Harry turned to
the professor who was glaring down at him with her lips thinned out and gave her an
exaggerated wink. She physically recoiled at the action while students who had swivelled in
his direction when Archie mentioned his name sniggered.

“Archie…I’m warning you…” Stephanie tried feebly to quell this rant but it was to no avail.
Harry on the other hand was interested to see a boy from Slytherin he had never really
seen around before with brown hair and a face similar to Archie’s scowling in his friend’s
direction.

“Steph” he sobbed, amazingly though, his eyes were devoid of tears “oh Stephanie
Zabini” he now had his face in her lap with his arms wrapped around her midsection “mm
Steph…you smell good” he mumbled, loud enough for some of the Slytherins around her
to hear and laugh openly at.

Stephanie’s face had gone completely red; Harry wasn’t sure whether it was because she
was just that pissed or just embarrassed “Are you using a new body wash? It’s real
nice” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her school robes. Harry was surprised the
teachers hadn’t intervened yet, though he supposed they just let the scene play out
because of what day it was. He was, however, a little concerned with the looks some of
the Slytherins were giving both Archie and Stephanie.

Very few of the girls were looking jealous of Stephanie, which wasn’t as much of a
surprise as Malfoy and his band of ferret followers looking livid at the scene. Was
Stephanie in danger in her own house? He resolved to solve that problem somehow,
because if something happened to his best friend’s love interest while she was supposed
to be safe, Harry wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop the boy from killing Snape and
whoever was responsible – and that was saying something given Archie’s views on the man.

He also wasn’t sure if he’d want to try and stop him…

To solve that problem though, he’d need to deal with a Slytherin, and to deal with a
Slytherin you need to think like a Slytherin…

Harry filed that thought away for a later date.

Seeing Archie’s hands wander towards dangerous grounds, for him at least, Harry figured
he’d put a stop to it before Stephanie rendered little Archie black and blue…again…

Whipping out his wand, Harry sent a weak Incarcerous curse at Archie, much to the shock
of the knowledgeable students and teachers in the great hall (it was after all a fifth year
spell), wrapping his arms and torso up in conjured ropes and began to drag him out of the
hall unceremoniously.

“You see this Stephanie?!” he shrieked from his position on the floor “he, even now,
continues to try and interfere in our love! I won’t have it!” his indignant shouts died out
as Harry eventually took him out of the hall and away from the masses of laughing students.

“Ah, yes, Valentines Day always brings us marvellous displays of affection and love”
Dumbledore yelled to the hall “I wish you all a happy day and hope that Mr. Montague
and Ms. Zabini can come to terms with their feelings sooner rather then later” he said
merrily, Stephanie was trying and failing to sink into the ground and run away.

The first boy, who tried their luck with her after that display, thinking they had a chance
now that Archie was turned down, was almost castrated.

Thus Stephanie Zabini earned the reputation of ‘Ice Queen’ of the Slytherin house.

A few days had passed since Valentines Day and things were finally starting to get back
to a semblance of normality. Archie had admitted to possibly overreacting a little bit
during that morning, much to Harry’s amusement, and had even asked what he was
doing wrong in winning the gorgeous Slytherin’s affection.

Harry had promptly told him that he was probably the worst person in the world to ask
for advice about in regards to women. Of course, Archie didn’t believe him until he
badgered Harry enough to get an answer out of him.

Harry had just told him to stop trying so hard, it was then that Archie believed that he
knew nothing about women and stopped asking, ironic how Harry was the one who had
been asked to Hogsmeade by the girl and not Archie…

Harry had also had to wait a few days after Valentines before venturing anywhere on his
own, less he get cornered by a sobbing fan-girl who would profess their love for him in
many ways and ask what they had done wrong to not earn said love.

It was rather annoying; whoever said girls mature quicker then boys did must have had a
screw loose. Is it so wrong to want to go to school to learn and not worry about dating
and gossip? When he had proposed said question to Archie he had been on the receiving
end of a look that clearly portrayed Archie’s disbelief and amusement. Maybe he was just
the weird one and everyone else was normal…

Learning was so much simpler when he did it on his own at home with Remus as a guide;
there were never any complications…oh well…

Wanting to escape the noisy Ravenclaw party in honour of their latest win against
Slytherin in Quidditch, Harry had slipped into his Animagus form and simply walked out the
front portrait of the common room, not even once drawing anyone’s suspicion. Who
would want to look at a black cat when pervs had people shagging to spy on, girls had
music to dance to and underage students had alcohol to consume anyway?

It took a good few minutes to actually get far enough away from the Ravenclaw Tower
to not hear the beating of the loud Wizarding music anymore, but once he did, it became
eerily silent as per usual for the barren Hogwarts corridors at night. This wouldn’t be the
first time Harry had taken advantage of his ability to travel around unseen to get some
fresh air or some quiet time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. There was just
something about the dark and quiet halls that Harry found peaceful and it was his desire
to feel at peace that urged him to make repeat performances.

Keeping to the shadows made by the moon shining through the windows and hitting the
armoured suits, Harry walked aimlessly for what seemed like hours, searching every nook
and cranny throughout the castle to pass the time. He had found several fairly easy to
find hidden passages this way, and he was certain – given the school’s ancient history
and mystique - that there were many more.
His search eventually led him to a room with its door slightly ajar – quite odd considering
the caretaker usually locked all doors leading to classrooms and pretty much any room in
general at night to stop adventurous teenagers causing trouble.

Sneaking through the cracked open door, Harry was met with a sight that, if he was
honest with himself, probably surprised him to a fair bit.

Neville Longbottom’s head floating in mid air, sans his body, while peering into a mirror
intently. Was the boy’s ego and self-worth so high that he would be so enthralled by his
own reflection? And what was with his body? It looked like he was being covered by an
invisibility cloak, and if that were the case, he shouldn’t be using such a rare and
powerful magical artefact so trivially – but who was he to tell people what to do with their
things?

Fully entering the room, Harry was about to get a closer look in the mirror when his
enhanced cat senses picked up another presence heading towards the room. As quickly
and silently as possible, Harry ran to the opposite side of the room and hid in a shadowed
corner, his pitch black fur and small body making him almost impossible to see unless you
were staring right at him and were only a few feet away.

Somebody had indeed entered the room, and if the horrendously coloured wardrobe
didn’t give his identity away, his long silver beard and gold rimmed spectacles did. Albus
Dumbledore snuck in without obtaining the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’s attention and sat at the
desk beside the door, watching the first year boy stare at the mirrored with a sense of
wonder with a concerned frown on his face.

“Back again, Neville?” he asked gently, causing said boy to jump in fright and spin around
to see the aged headmaster smiling at him.

“I…I didn’t hear you come in sir…” the boy stammered nervously.

“Strange how short sighted being invisible can make you” Dumbledore joked while getting
up from the desk and taking a seat beside Neville on the floor before the mirror “So, you,
like hundreds before you, have discovered the wonders of the Mirror of Erised” he stated,
and it was then that Harry spotted an inscription on the mirror itself, realizing that it might
not just be a regular mirror:

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

Harry stared at the queer message intently, wondering if it was in some foreign language
until he realised the first word spelt desire backwards. Thinking it may be a riddle, Harry
read the message backwards, or mirrored, as it were, while ignoring the breaks:

I show not your face but your hearts desire

Interesting, could it be that Longbottom wasn’t in fact enthralled by his own image, but
that the mirror was charmed to show him something his heart desires most?

“I…I didn’t know it was called that sir” Neville responded after several moments of silence.

“But I expect you’ve realized by now what exactly it does?” Dumbledore prompted,
seemingly deflating when the boy answered in the negative.

“It…err…it shows me being cheered on by lots of people…” he said quietly “it shows me
being a Quidditch star and…and famous” the boy said with a blush on his pudgy cheeks.

“And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy” Dumbledore urged, Harry was
surprised to see that he was slightly disappointed at Neville’s apparent desire, he
couldn’t see why however, it seemed fairly normal for a regular eleven year old, even if
he was the ‘Boy-who-lived’.

“How did you…?” Neville began only to be cut off gently by Dumbledore.

“I don’t need a cloak to become invisible Neville” he stole a glance at the mirror before
turning back to the boy “Now; can you tell me what you think it shows us all?”

Neville shook his head, looking ashamed that he didn’t know what Dumbledore was asking him

“Let me try and explain it – the happiest man on earth would look into the mirror and only
see himself, as he is, does that help?”

Neville frowned and looked to the ground for a few moments before answering “It shows
us what we want, whatever we want…”

“Yes and no” Dumbledore said slowly “It shows us nothing more and nothing less then
the deepest desire of our hearts – you, who want nothing more then to please others
who have high expectations of you see yourself doing just that in a role that you could
do that most easily” Harry resisted the urge to snort; no, it showed that Neville was an
attention seeking little prat “Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his
brothers, sees himself standing alone and the best of them all. However, this mirror
neither shows us knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by
what they’ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what they see is even real or possible.”

Neville looked at the mirror in a new light as Dumbledore paused to let the information sink
in “The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow and I ask that you not go looking for
it again. If by some chance you do come across it though, you will now be prepared. Now
before you use that impressive cloak of your father’s to head off to bed, I shall impart on
you one last piece of advice; It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live –
remember that” Harry’s feline eyes widened slightly when the elderly headmaster’s eyes
flickered over to his direction ever so briefly before returning to Neville just as soon as
they had changed focus. He had been spotted, it seemed.

“Sir, can I ask you one quick question” Neville asked, as he stood up and adjusted his
cloak around him.

“You already have, but I can allow just one more if you must” he said with a smile.

Neville smiled back before asking “What is it you see when you look in the mirror?”

“I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woollen socks.”

Neville just stared at him incredulously but Harry didn’t believe the venerable headmaster
for a second.

“One can never have enough pairs of socks” he defended himself “another Christmas
has come and gone and I didn’t get a single pair – people insist on giving me books.”

Dazed by the slightly unexpected answer, Neville left the room and closed the door
behind him with a soft click and heavy groan. Harry and Dumbledore stood in the room
together in silence, both knowing that Dumbledore knew of Harry’s presence.

“An Animagus at such a young age is a feat not even I, a master of the art of
Transfiguration, had been able to achieve Mister Potter.”

Harry’s cat form came out of the shadows as he gradually changed back into his human
form, clad in a pair of jeans, shirt and a cardigan.

“So I’ve been told, I trust you can keep such information to yourself then?” Harry replied
coolly earning a chuckle from the old headmaster.

“I seem to find myself forgetting how you came to be in this room Mister Potter” he jokes,
earning a nod of gratitude from Harry.

Despite himself, Harry spared a glance at the mirror and had to resist the urge to gasp.
Looking right back at him with flowing red hair and emerald green eyes very much like his
own dancing with mirth was none other then his mother with her arms wrapped around
his neck as she laughed joyously. Harry almost yelped when the image of his mother
hopped on the image of his mirror self and forced him to give her a piggy back, his mirror
self was smiling back at him too, looking happier then he had ever remembered himself looking

Suddenly, Harry felt a rage towards the mirror of the likes he had never felt before. Was
this mirror mocking him? This ruddy piece of glass bordered with golden trim? Harry
resisted the urge to simply launch a cannon ball at the bloody mirror and end its existence.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts “What do you
see?” Dumbledore asked gently. Harry shook his head to clear them of the dark thoughts
before clearing his mind and looking at the headmaster with an indifferent expression.

“I see a very naked Professor Vector and I locked in a broom closet and engaged in
activities I’m not even sure one such as you are old enough to hear about” he answered
with a straight face. Dumbledore stared at Harry in the very same way Neville had just
stared him when he had been asked the very same question before bursting out in laughter.

“My, my, I’m sure Septima would be overjoyed to hear such things are what her
favourite student desires most of all” he said through chuckles as Harry looked to the
headmaster with amusement.

“Be sure to be very far away from her if you do decide to tell her, she has quite the
wicked temper and can be quite vindictive, yet, I suppose most women I’ve met are” he
said with a shrug as Dumbledore wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.

“I’ll take that advice under consideration” he said, his beard twitching as he smiled “I
believe the Ravenclaw party is over though however and that you should be heading
back yourself, it was nice having this very insightful discussion, I must say, and I insist
upon you the same warning I gave to young Neville.”

Harry nodded and headed for the door, opening it enough so that his Animagus form could
fit through when he transformed before pausing “Professor” he said seriously, his back to
Albus “you best hide that accursed mirror well, because if I see it again it will be nothing
more then a pile of broken glass…”

With that ominous threat, Harry quickly departed in his Animagus form and headed back
to the Ravenclaw tower, leaving a melancholy old man looking to the mirror sadly.

“What an interesting young man, wouldn’t you say Ariana, Gellert?” a young girl, fourteen
or so years of age with a heart shaped face and large crystal blue eyes nodded at him
with a large smile, while a young man, looking around eighteen or so, with blonde, curly,
shoulder length hair with an overall mischievous look about him grinned at him with a
gleeful expression, the boy had his arm wrapped around the girl' shoulder in a show of
brotherly affection.

With a sigh, Dumbledore covered the mirror with a conjured piece of cloth and began to
relocate it, trying his hardest to banish the latest image he had seen from his mind. It
would not do to dwell on the past, after all…

Harry, after calming down enough to begin his trek back to Ravenclaw tower was fully
content to do so, that is until he spotted a cloaked figure scurry out of the front doors at
top speed towards the Forbidden Forest.

If it weren’t for the fact that it was just about four o’clock in the morning, and that no
one was around or awake to follow the figure, he would have just ignored it and gone
straight to bed. As it were, it was and no one was, so he, ignoring the little voice in his
head calling him an idiot, kept to the shadows the trees and other objects provided and
followed a good distance behind the figure straight into the forest, keeping out of
eyesight and relying on his senses to keep on the trail.

His little trip took him a few miles into the forest and when he finally stopped and found
his target, he almost threw up from the site.

On the floor with a large gaping wound in its belly was a young Unicorn, its silvery blood
was flowing out of the wound in torrents. The figure he had been following had its lips
attached to the gaping hold and was sucking the creature dry.

Harry felt the urge to try and save the pure creature from its grizzly fate but rushing into
the situation would only get them both killed, besides, the foul person doing such a vile
act to the unicorn could very well be stronger then him, so caution had to be advised.
The reason why Harry was so intent on helping the creature was simply because of the
nature of what was occurring. To such the blood of a creature like a Unicorn, especially a
young one unable to defend itself, is something not unlike raping a defenceless child, it
was sick, perverse and downright evil. Harry couldn’t find a reason someone would do
such a thing – he had heard the Unicorn’s blood had immense healing properties…

Harry silently changed out of his Animagus form and hit in the shadows, whipping out his
wand while devising a plan of attack.

Seeing a few heavy set branches hanging loosely above the figure and the unicorn and
inspecting his surroundings, Harry immediately launched into his plan with a series of silent
spells as to not give away his location or the fact that he was even there.

The cloaked figure’s head snapped up when he heard the branches creaking and then
leapt out of the way when said branches fell upon the space he had just been occupying.
As soon as the figure took its eyes off the creature and began to clear the area, thinking
it had been spotted most likely, Harry summoned the baby, dog-sized, Unicorn over to
him and quickly hid it behind a large tree. Hoping his next plan wouldn’t get him killed;
Harry fired a cutting curse at the base of a rather large tree in the clearing, causing it to
groan loudly before collapsing on the dirt floor with a huge bang. That ought to alert the
centaurs that someone had invaded their territory, but it also meant that he had to move
quickly.

Turning back to the Unicorn whose single visible eye was trained on him with a look of
fear, distrust and apprehension, Harry worked quickly to conjure some bandages and
wrap the wound up tightly. By the time he had successfully bound the wound, his hands
were covered in the beast’s silvery blood and it was breathing in ragged breaths.

Scraping the Unicorn’s blood off his hands, Harry placed as much of it as he could in a
conjured glass and hefted the Unicorn’s head in its lap.

“I know you don’t trust me, but this is your blood and if you want to survive through the
night, you’ll need to drink it so you can be healed” Harry said softly. The Unicorn – Harry
thought it might be a female – whined pitifully, not wanting to do as Harry has instructed,
but as it felt its body grow weaker, it opened its mouth and allowed Harry to tip the
silvery substance down its throat.

Harry waited with the Unicorn foal as he heard the distinct sound of hoofs thumping
against the dirt ground closing in on his position, several dozen hoofs at that. Seeing the
Unicorn look at him fearfully, Harry tried its best to reassure it.

“Don’t worry, as long as you’re quiet they won’t find us and I’ll stay here until you’re able
to take care of yourself” Harry reassured. The unicorn seemed to understand him as it
rubbed its snout affectionately against his arm and did as told.

The centaurs came and left, not having spotted Harry or the Unicorn, and said beast in
the mean time slowly started to regain its health and energy. Eventually, it was able to
stand up on its own, which was when Harry thought it safe for the beast on its own.

“Do you know where your pack is?” Harry asked gently as the white horse like creature
neighed in the affirmative, rubbing his thigh affectionately again, its behaviour and
general tender personality led Harry to believe it a female.

“I don’t want to have to call you ‘Unicorn’ if I see you again, now that we’re friends
right?” Harry asked, stroking its snout as the Unicorn’s eyes closed, enjoying the feeling
of Harry’s hands “how about I call you…” as Harry raked his brain for a name, the
unicorn’s eyes met his and suddenly a name was on the tip of his tongue “Starbreeze?” he
said with question, he figured the little beast liked it as she stomped her hooves and
puffed out her chest when he said so.

“Okay Starbreeze, I think you should get back to your family else they get worried,
hmm?” the Unicorn twirled around on the spot and rubbed her head against his again with
affection, but before leaving she swayed her tail at him weirdly before a single, silvery
strand fell from it at his feet, the hair glowing in the moonlight with ethereal power.

As soon as Harry picked up the discarded tail hare, the horde was off like a silver blue back
into the depths of the forest leaving a dumbstruck Harry in its wake. Starbreeze had just
willingly given him one of her tail hairs, a willingly given piece of any magical creature is
always a powerful ingredient in any potion or ritual, especially one of a Unicorn.

Shaking his head one more time and seeing how the sun was slowly starting to peek out
over the horizon, Harry changed back into his Animagus form and quickly headed back
to Hogwarts, he needed sleep and a shower.
Harry woke up quite late the next morning, however he wasn’t the only one, which was
probably a good thing all things considered – he didn’t want people asking unnecessary
questions about his whereabouts last night.

Unfortunately however, being his best friend, Archie easily noticed his absence,
especially when the boy had tried to find him himself.

“So” Archie began conversationally, after everyone but the two of them had left the
dorm room “you going to tell me where you went last night, or are you going to pretend
like I didn’t realize?” he asked casually, while discreetly eyeing Harry for his reaction.

Harry didn’t so much as bat an eyelash at the question, though he did wonder about how
he should answer “I obviously wasn’t here, too much noise you see?”

“Obviously” Archie agreed sarcastically “you plan on sharing the details of your latest
wacky adventure or am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

Harry looked at his quite scrawny friend with amusement.

“Okay, fine, I can send a legion of fan girls the likes of which this world has never seen if
you keep being a prat and not tell me where you went last night!” he practically whined,
though Harry knew, without a doubt, that his friend could probably come good on that threat.

“Justprowling” he supplied, not feeling the need to explain further.

“I figured that much, it has to be more if you were so unwilling to share the gritty details”
Harry looked over the book he was reading – Arithmetic’s Anonymous – with an annoyed glare.

“And what exactly were you doing last night?” he countered.

Archie immediately began explaining “Well, first, I spent a good portion of the evening
dancing with a few of the girls that were my valentines, much to their pleasure” Harry
grinned behind his book at the ammunition he was just given “and then Davis, Goldstein,
Matthews and I went to all the boy’s dorms to try and find couples snogging or better,
you won’t believe what we found!” he gushed “Smith and Johansen were shagging, so
were Benson and Jeffers, though the latter were doing so quite vigorously!”

Harry put down his book with a frown on his face “Why is it that the older girls of
Ravenclaw become easy when you get a few glasses of alcohol in them?”

Archie just shrugged “You know what they say about the quiet ones – hey, don’t try and
change the subject! Oh, that was clever…” he praised as Harry rolled his eyes.

“I spotted Longbottom looking at himself in a mirror quite intently and hit when I smelt
someone approaching. Said someone happened to be professor Dumbledore who then
went on to explain the properties of said mirror, apparently it is a magical artefact that
shows you your heart’s deepest desires. After Longbottom left with the use of his father’s
invisibility cloak, Dumbledore and I had a good chat in which we learnt a lot about each
other before I was sent off to bed. Naturally I did no such thing and went on a romp in
the forbidden forest only to find a mysterious cloaked figure sucking a young Unicorn –
her name is Starbreeze – dry, naturally, I bandaged her up and garnered her favour all
after scaring off said cloaked figure earlier. I had figured that I had enough adventure for
one night after that and promptly came back here” he finally finished, leaving a frowning
Archie looking at him.
“Right…if you didn’t want to tell me where you were, all you had to do was say so…”

Harry kept his amusement easily hidden by the cover of his book.

It was the time of another exam period that found Archie and Harry studying alone in
their dorm room with a pile of books surrounding them. Harry had, naturally, continued
to dominate in all his classes with a little more effort now that he had picked up Ancient
Runes and Arithmancy as subjects. In these two classes he had finally found some
semblance of a challenge for his academically enriched mind. Archie, expectantly, was
knee deep in NEWT level and above Potions texts – it truly amazed Harry how skilled he
was in the subject.

“You ever considered studying Alchemy? With your skill in Potions already so high and
the amount of time you seem to always have on your hands, it just seems like the natural
course of action” Harry prompted, taking a break from the studying.

“I have actually, I even sent a request for an apprenticeship under professor Dumbledore
– he is quite the Alchemist himself you know, he discovered the twelve uses for Dragon’s
blood” Harry nodded, having read something to that effect “but he denied me with an
apology saying that being the headmaster of a school and the chief warlock of the
Wizengamot doesn’t give him the luxury of taking on apprentices in any subject” he
sighed “Professor Snape also turned down the request for an apprenticeship too, saying
that while I may be knowledgeable, he had no time to teach ‘imbeciles’.”

Harry snorted at that “You mean the ‘Great Potions Master Snape’ did such a thing?
Surely you jest!”

Archie only seemed to become gloomier at that, mumbling something about the man
having his reasons before returning to his books.

Harry stretched before looking out of the window, seeing it was a rather beautiful sunny
day, he got up and donned his cardigan “I’m going for a walk, get some fresh air” Harry
announced. Archie nodded absentmindedly from his book and waved Harry off.

As soon as he exited the common room, Harry began to walk with no destination in mind,
going over various Arithmetic formulae in his head and reciting several of his class’s key
theory points as a means for revision. Even during his break time he didn’t really relax…

Eventually, Harry found himself wondering dangerously near the Hufflepuff common
room when he heard the sound of a group of girls giggling not too far from his position.
This wasn’t good, he couldn’t allow himself to be caught by the likes of them, how
annoying would that be!

Swiftly changing into his Animagus form, Harry bolted in the other direction while keeping
in what little shadows he could find during this time of day.

He practically froze mid leap when a familiar scent assaulted his senses. A scent he knew
he remembered, but had a hard time placing there. It reminded him of garlic and
mothballs. As Harry continued to try and place the scent, it continued to get stronger
and stronger until from around the corner came Professor Quirrel, looking to be quite
agitated about something – a rather unusual look for the usually cowardly man to have
now that he thought about it. It wasn’t until Quirrel was almost exactly beside him as he
hid behind a stone statue that he remembered the scent.
It was the scent of the cloaked figure he had been tailing in the forbidden forest that night…

Just as Harry was heading back to the Ravenclaw common room to relay what he had
learned to Archie, he heard an argument from around the corner.

“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago” came the cold voice that was
unmistakeably McGonagall “He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew
off for London at once.”

“He’s gone?” came the shocked voice of Neville Longbottom as Harry pressed his back to
the wall he was hiding behind “Now?”

“Professor Dumbledore is a very great and powerful wizard…”

“But this is important!” the voice of Ron Weasley urged frantically.

“Something you have to say is more important then the Ministry of Magic?” she asked frostily.

“Look” Neville began slowly “Professor, it’s about the Philosopher’s stone Fluffy’s guarding…”

“How do you three…?” McGonagall asked, shocked, which surprised Harry. The
Philosopher’s stone was being held in Hogwarts, why in the world would you hide
something of that import in a school and not in one of Gringotts’ most secure vaults?

“Professor, I think, no, I know that Professor Sn…that someone is going to try and steal
the stone. I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore!”

“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow, you can speak to him then. I don’t know
how you found out about the stone, but I assure you nothing will happen to it, it’s too
well protected.”

“But Professor…” surprisingly, the voice of Hermione Granger tried to interrupt.

“Miss Granger, I know what I’m talking about” she replied shortly “now I suggest you
three go outside and enjoy the sun.”

There was the sound of three sets of feet scurrying off before McGonagall rounded the
corner and almost ran straight into him. Her face changed into an expression of shock
when she realized what she must have overheard.

“Potter! How much did you…”

“That’s not important professor” Harry interrupted.

“What do you mean it’s not…”

“I mean that the importance of that question is not very paramount.”

Her nostrils flared in annoyance at once again having her questions answered before she
could ask them and how he so casually talked about such an important issue.

“I think you need…”

“I think you need to listen to Longbottom professor” he countered, all traces of suspicion
gone “It just so happens that I may or may not have been frolicking in the Forbidden
forest several weeks ago where a cloaked figure attacked a defenceless unicorn, drinking
its blood…”

Any ideas McGonagall had of reprimanding him completely flew out the window as she
paled at the implications of what he had just said “Yes, I thought as much too, imagine my
surprise when I recognized said cloaked figure’s scent today only to find out it was the
scent of Professor Quirrel…”

McGonagall’s eyes narrowed this time, instead of being shocked “Hardly Potter…”

“An odd thing to do, wouldn’t you say? Drinking a Unicorn’s blood that is?” Harry
prompted, interrupting her yet again “Why would someone curse themselves like that,
drinking the blood of a creature so pure…” he paused “unless of course, they had the
means to negate such a curse…with…let’s say…the elixir of life?”

McGonagall’s eyes widened a fraction before narrowing once again “I said before Potter,
the stone has more then adequate protections…”

Harry’s annoyance finally caught up to him and he snapped “Goddamn it you stubborn old
bat! How hard could it be to check on the damn stone’s defences tonight with Professor
Flitwick to prove me wrong” he shouted “not only have I given you undeniable proof, but
I have given you a motive! Do you not also find it a coincidence that Professor Dumbledore
is coincidently called away from the school during such an important time?!”

“How dare you…” she was however, much to her undying annoyance, interrupted yet again.

“If I’m wrong, I, Harry James Potter, do hereby swear to mark all of next years
Transfiguration assignments for you from first to seventh year, and you know damn well
I can do it!” he said hotly, a blue glow surrounding him binding him to said agreement as
he had used a wizard’s oath.

That proclamation made McGonagall stop mid tirade. She really had nothing to lose if
Potter was right other then a single evening of guarding the stone with Filius…

“But if I’m right, you have to turn up to every Ravenclaw Quidditch game next season
dressed in the blue and bronze” he said with a self satisfied smirk.

“I most certainly…” unsurprisingly, she was interrupted again.

“Lacking confidence in your earlier claims regarding the stone’s safety are we professor?”
he asked, sounding quite pleased with himself.

“Fine, but be prepared to keep your end…” as soon as Harry saw the blue glow
surrounding her, he knew the stone was safe.

“Wonderful” he interrupted before turning on his heal and walking away, leaving a
fuming McGonagall in his wake.

Harry sat, quite pleased with himself at the end of year feast as McGonagall was glaring
down at him heatedly from the head table; a table which was unsurprisingly missing one of
their staff, Professor Quirrel.
Flitwick had brought an injured McGonagall to his office and called him late at night to
inform him of what had happened with the stone, as he was instrumental in securing it.
Apparently, as they were about to trek down to the stone’s location, they had bumped
into Ron, Hermione and Neville, who were, much to their dismay, sent packing back to
their common rooms.

To their surprise however, the two professors found evidence of someone having passed
through each defence not so long before them, causing them to proceed with caution.
What they found in the final chamber, much to McGonagall’s chagrin, was indeed
Professor Quirrel standing before the mirror of Erised trying to get the stone. The two
professors were reluctant to share much more information after that except for the fact
that the trio had a furious two on one duel which the two professors won quite easily,
resulting in Quirrel’s death and the stone’s safety.

As Ravenclaw was awarded the House and Quidditch up yet again, Harry couldn’t help
but be annoyed at Dumbledore’s incessant twinkling as he looked upon him with a proud
smile. Damn old codger could be downright creepy at times.

It was at King’s Cross station with Remus that one could find Harry relaying all the
important details of the year to – despite the marauder’s shock. As they were speaking
however, the Zabinis and Archie approached them, much to Harry’s confusion as they
had already bid the family goodbye.

“Ah, Antonio, Bianca, good to see you so soon, I take it young Archie has relayed to you
his request and my approval for his summer plans then?”

With an amused look on his face, Antonio nodded “Indeed, it’s never too early for
someone to join the workforce; I think it would be a splendid idea for Archie to work at
Moony Nights during his summers.”

“What?” came two shocked explanations, the Zabinis and Remus looked to the offenders
with amusement. Harry because Archie was now wrapping him in a one armed ‘manly’ hug
and Stephanie because she was blushing in embarrassment.

“Is there a problem Stephy-dear?” Archie cooed, as he tried and failed to give Harry a noogie.

“N-no, it’s just, you know…summer, and…we usually… no, it’s nothing” she said, her
earlier embarrassment being hidden well behind a mask of indifference. The Zabinis looked
to their daughter with concern while Archie only grinned wider.

“Don’t worry Stephy, you can still visit me whenever you want, but you’ll have to wait until
I’m off work until we can make out” this time Archie was not only kneed in the groin, but
he received a slap on the head from Bianca too causing a rather humorous sound to come
from the downed boy.

“Bianca, my love, you wound me!”

Blaise made sure to give him a soft kick in the chest for good measure as Antonio chuckled.

“Aren’t you excited Harry?” Remus asked, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Harry looked to his downed friend with a frown “Ecstatic…”

Chapter: 13
Chapter 14: The Secret Diary

In a room illuminated by several bright torches sat five figures around an oval shaped
table topped with green felt on a raised platform. Around the platform stood roughly two
dozen influential and, or rich spectators of different races watching the game of poker
taking place before their eyes. The spectators and players were all dressed in their finest
silk or dragon hide clothing; the males were wearing expensive suits while the females
were looking beautiful in their evening gowns. One could tell that by merely looking at the
gold-trimmed oak and polished furniture that this event was more prestigious then your
regular house game.

The game in particular was a yearly event held by the Goblins of Gringotts in Britain for
their richer clients. The clients often lost, and it was to the Goblin’s great pleasure to rob
them dry of their galleons in a very legal way; the fact that the losing wizards kept
coming back was just a bonus for them. Being invited to actually participate was a great
honour and a sign that majority of England recognized your family as a wealthy and
worthy one – to refuse to participate would be a great insult to the Goblins and a sign of
weakness (that’s at least what the Goblins ‘said’, they just wanted their free money) – so
the fact that wizards continued to lose their money in such a spectacular way wasn’t much
of a surprise.

Luckily for Harry, the fact that he was fourteen years old didn’t bother the Goblins in the
slightest. Gringotts was Goblin territory and hence, Wizarding laws on underage gambling
didn’t apply. All they saw was a wet behind the ears child who didn’t know what else to do
with his rather extensive inheritance – and the two hundred thousand galleon buy-in was
a considerably large amount of it; almost half of his family’s vault in galleons to be exact
(properties and shares excluded). The Potters weren’t the wealthiest family in England,
not even close, but Harry and Remus together had garnered more then enough favour
from the Goblin nation to be able to request a seat in the game from the bank’s
directors. The Goblins merely saw it as an attempt to increase the Potter fortune
considerably on Harry’s part while Remus had yelled at him until his throat was dry about
squandering hundred of thousands of his family’s fortune on a fruitless and immature
‘business’ venture.

Not only does the winner of this game win almost one and a half million galleons (eight
players with a buy in of two hundred thousand galleons each), but they also earn the
right to participate in the game hosted by the Switzerland branch of Gringotts once every
ten years. The Switzerland branch was considered to be the ‘head’ branch of Gringotts
and one of the wealthiest; the Goblins’ richest clients often used and trusted that bank
with its security being nigh impenetrable. The buy-in for that game was ten times the
amount of the yearly one hosted in England, two million galleons to be exact, and as
such, the winnings were all the more rewarding.

All of that mattered as much to Harry as Remus’s lecturing however, he was not here for
the money - he had his own agenda; though it should be known that he had no intentions
of bankrupting himself and ruining any chances of curing his mother should he need
money to do so.

The players this year consisted of two Goblins, four wizards, a Vampire and a Veela. The
Goblins that participated were the same two that participated every year and Harry was
certain they were specifically trained to just play Poker, as if it were their jobs; they were
certainly good enough for his estimation to be a valid one. Bronzespear and Ripgore
have been playing for two decades now and have won every game between them since
they have started.

The Vampire who had attended, Vladimir Mikhaylovich, a Russian born businessman who
was a pure-blooded vampire that inherited his family’s English based business at a young
age was one of the first to go out, having gone head to head against Ripgore only to
have lose to an ace high straight.

The Veela was a woman from France by the name of Francine Delacour who was merely
here on a business trip but decided to try her luck with Poker. It was unfortunate for her
that her skills in the game were not as revered as her looks, otherwise they’d all have
been bled dry hours ago.

The wizards invited to join the game were, not surprisingly, Lucius Malfoy, who seemed to
make it his mission to try and make a fool of Harry and make him go bust early.
Unfortunately for everyone but Harry, his little escapade allowed Harry to take the
position as chip leader early one, a fact that the Goblins were sure to remember, especially
if the glares sent in his direction by the Goblins dealer were anything to go by. The other
two wizards, aside from himself, were Robert Cook, the owner of the Daily Prophet and
Jeremy Taylor, CEO of the Nimbus Racing Broom Company.

Now, the only people remaining in the game were Harry, Ripgore, Bronzespear and
Jeremy, the rest having lost already. The dealer collected the large pile of chips and
moved them over towards Bronzespear.

“It seems you are getting a little overconfident Lord Potter, perhaps being up so late past
your bedtime has hindered whatever thought processes your puny mind could conjure
up, hmm?” he jabbed with a false politeness, earning several chuckles from the
inhabitants of the room.

Harry merely ignored him, frowning as he lost that hand. It was clear to all that he
suspected he was going to win, and who wouldn’t with a hand like his with the river the
way it was?

“Just deal the cards” he said darkly, locking his hands together in front of his mouth and
hunching over his chips which were, for the first time that night, smaller then the two
Goblins’ piles.

Bronzespear looked pleased with himself and Ripgore didn’t look too upset either, no
doubt they’d be praised no matter who won as long as it was one of them. Jeremy was
sweating bullets, he didn’t have all that much left and this next hand would probably be his
last, especially since he was up to pay big blinds.

A hush overcame the room as everyone was dealt two cards. Harry plucked the corner
of them up slightly, giving no outwards expression of whether he was pleased or not with
his hand – a fact which annoyed his opponents to no end – while the other three players
did the same. Bronzespear’s grin turned savage after looking at his cards as Harry raised
his eyebrow in amusement.

Everybody called and the dealer laid down the flop in the middle of the table, the cards
being an ace of diamonds, a jack of diamonds and a jack of spades respectively.
Bronzespear opened the betting high as everyone checked, forcing everyone to call if
they wanted to remain in the game. When it was Harry’s turn to call, he hesitated, ever so
slightly, and Bronzespear immediately picked up on it.

“Finally realizing what it is you’re playing with Potter?” he jeered “there’s no more useless
Malfoy lords playing to give you their money, perhaps you should just fold? Actually,
disregard that, it would be in my best interests if you bet as much as possible…”

Harry almost laughed when he saw Malfoy’s expression darken, the losers were drinking
cocktails while watching until the end of the game which didn’t seem to far off.
Bronzespear on the other hand must not think much of him, using petty intimidation
tactics during a game. Harry figured he could have one of two goals, goad him into
betting more, or scare him off because he has nothing.

“Call” Harry called casually, throwing in the appropriate chips required as the dealer dealt
the next card, a King of hearts. Once again, Bronzespear bet high, almost forcing Jeremy
to go all in, while Harry and Ripgore called. The pot was one of the largest of the night
and drew the attention of all the spectators.

The dealer dealt the last card, revealing a seven of diamonds. Harry let out a quiet
disappointed sigh.

“Ah, and all has come tumbling down then Lord Potter?” Bronzespear asked with faux
sympathy “hoping for the queen were you?” he asked with a grin before pushing all of his
chips in to the middle of the table, eliciting gasps from all watching.

Harry had to hand it to the Goblin, if there was one thing they had down to a ‘T’ it was
intimidation…

Ripgore took one last look at his cards before nodding and calling the all in. Jeremy, who
really had no other choice by to follow, did and called also.

Harry reclined back in his chair and played with his cards in their face down position in the
table. The entire time, he was eyeing Bronzespear with a piercing glaze that, if the
Goblin was honest with himself, unnerved him somewhat.

“What do you say to making this pot a little more interesting?” Harry asked, as the Goblin
snapped at him.

“Your arrogance knows no bounds!” he snarled “is one and a half million galleons not
interesting enough?!”

Harry shrugged “I am not playing for the money” he paused “a side bet on this hand,
between the two of us, one that could be extremely profitable to the winner” he
prompted “what say you?”

Harry knew he may as well have dangled a bag of galleons in front of the greedy goblins
face at the mention of ‘profit’ but he had no choice, this had to be done.

“And what, pray tell, would we be betting?” the Goblins asked, intrigued. The spectators
looked on in interest while the dealer frowned – what they were doing wasn’t exactly
illegal, as it didn’t affect the game, but what could the boy be wanting?
“I would be betting the Potters’ shares in all businesses, including those of ‘Moony
Nights’” he prompted, getting gasps and incredulous looks from all those in the room,
Harry was thankful that Remus wasn’t there or he was sure the werewolf would explode.

The Goblin immediately got a greedy look in his eyes and it was at that moment that
Harry knew he had him “You have offered something of great value, what could me, a
lowly Goblin, hope to offer to match such a bet?” he asked with sarcasm.

Harry got up from his chair and leaned over to the Goblin’s bat like ear before whispering
something. Those watching - slightly put out that they wouldn’t hear what is being bet -
were surprised to see the Goblin’s eyes widen in shock before narrowing dangerously.

“How do you know of that item?!” he all but snarled – Harry shrugged dismissively as he
took his seat again.

“I have friends in high places” he replied; a vampire sitting at the bar drinking a glass of
premium blood grinned into his cup at those words.

“You are so eager to lose your money?! Why should I be one to stop you!” the Goblin
snarled as the dealer eyed Bronzespear with narrowed eyes.

“You are aware that you are bound by our laws to deliver whatever Lord Potter has
asked of you to him, should he win?” he warned dangerously.

“As is he to me!” he snarled, eyes still narrowed in anger, seemingly unfazed by his
dealer’s subtle threat.

The dealer shrugged as the players flipped their cards, Jeremy going first.

“Queen high flush” he said proudly, rightfully so too, it was an excellent hand.

“I’m sorry to disappoint” Ripgore said with a grin as Jeremy paled “but I’m afraid I have
the King” and indeed, Ripgore produced a King high flush.

“It doesn’t matter” Bronzespear spat “I have full house, Aces over Jacks” Bronzespear
said with a vicious grin, showing his pocket aces as he turned them.

All eyes in the room immediately turned to Harry, who gulped down the last of his
Butterbear before casually flipping over his cards “I will expect you with what I asked for
at Moony Nights tomorrow evening, no later.”

Bronzespear, and everyone else in the room, looked on in shock at the pair of Jacks
Harry had revealed. Instantly, a people began to talk amongst themselves in their little
groups until the room was filled with excited chatter. A boy of no older then fourteen had
just cleaned up over one and a half million galleons! This was ludicrous!

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Bronzespear snarled as Harry collected his chips in a
plastic holder and readied to leave. He didn’t look quite ready to concede defeat and by
the murderous look the dealer was giving the enraged Goblin; he shouldn’t be ready to
concede defeat either.

“As you so nicely pointed out, it is far past my bed time” he said with a grin before
heading out the door. Before leaving, however, he walked past the bar and slipped a
fifty thousand galleon chip to the pale, black haired vampire seated there.
“Give Lucile my regards, Lestat” Harry recited in perfect French.

“Of course, Lord Potter” he replied demurely, though the grin on his face told another
story“She’ll be happy to hear from you”.

Harry was awoken, rather rudely in his opinion, by a slap to the face – several in fact –
from his ‘best friend’.
“What the fuck Archades?!” Harry snapped in anger, perhaps another side-effect of his
feline Animagus abilities was his need and yearning for sleep; waking him up after only
three hours of it was probably not the best way to get on his good side in the morning.

“Don’t get bitchy at me!” he snapped back, though his grin didn’t leave his face “Remus
has been asking for you all morning, its nine o’clock already!”

Harry groaned and looked over to his wall where an analogue hung; it definitely was nine
in the morning.

“I got home three hours ago you twat, tell Remus he can pick off his own goddamn fleas!”

With that ever so witty response, Harry dived back under his silk blankets and covered
his face with the pillow, hoping Archie would just go away.

“He said you might say that” Archie mused to himself, though Harry heard him clearly as
his pranking senses were tingling “he also said that if you did, I should do this…”

“Don’t do it” Harry warned with an oddly serious tone from beneath his pillow; Archie
would remember at a later date how funny it was to be threatened by someone who
looked to have a pillow for a head.

“Don’t do what?” he asked innocently, as he pulled a bucket of something over his head.

“I’m warning you Archades, you don’t want to do what you’re about to do” his warning
was unheeded though as Archie emptied a bucket of freezing cold water on his friend
causing Harry to rise slowly from his bed, seemingly unfazed, with water dripping all over
his body.

Archie was howling with laughter on the floor, thinking he was the funniest person in the
world, while Harry quickly went for his wand.

“Lesson number one Archades” Harry said with a grin, pointing his wand at his friend who
looked at Harry was fear.

“Now, now, Harry, revenge isn’t worth getting expelled over is it?” he asked but to no
avail as Harry flicked his wand, vanishing Archie’s pants.

“Who said anything about getting expelled?” he said with a grin, as he flicked his wand a
couple more time sending a screaming Archie out of his room and down to the diner area
of the inn.

Harry arrived downstairs, dressed and ready for the day after his shower, feeling as tired
as he looked. His day immediately picked up however at the sight of a pantless hanging
from the wall by his underwear in a position that looked extremely painful.
“Harry!” Archie called, happy for some reason to see him – he couldn’t see why – “my
bestest friend, I think you should let me down and we can let bygones be bygones, what
do you say?” he said, wincing every so often from the obvious pain he must be in.

“I don’t think so” he said with a shrug as he sat at the bar and let Lizzy make him some
breakfast.

“Harry, this isn’t funny” he begged, however the people who were already present at the
inn didn’t seem to agree with him “more people will be coming soon and this is
extremelypainful” he wailed “I think I’m bleeding!”

“What, you’re not?” he asked with a fake frown as the boy paled. Deciding he had
tortured him enough, Harry discreetly waved his wand under the bench, letting Archie fall
to the ground with a thump and a groan.

Eventually, the damaged boy took a seat beside him, wincing in pain as his ear end made
contact with the stool.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he said, sitting awkwardly on the stool with his thighs
instead of his behind to avoid pain, this was just a prank that kept on giving!

“It’s called a wedgie, don’t wake me up like that again” he said as he continued to eat.
Archie nodded distractedly before looking around and making sure they had no one’s attention.

“Are you going to tell me how you can do magic and not alert the ministry?” he asked in a
whisper – Harry was surprised the boy had the foresight to not blurt it out in a room full
of school children.

“Remarkably insightful of you to not alert the world…” Harry said warily, as if judging if
the boy seated beside him was really Archades.

“The Parselmouth thing was different” he said waving his hand “that’s not something you
should be ashamed of and being one isn’t against the law, this on the other hand…”

Harry nodded, understanding Archie’s view on the matter. The boy, in an unnatural
emotional display, revealed to him his feelings regarding his mother, her condition and
her…unfortunate…demise, it isn’t too surprising that he would think Harry was ashamed
of such an ability, and force him to live with it by telling the world.

“I can’t say much” he said ominously “but you should know that it has nothing to do with
where we are, or who I am, and everything to do with the wand itself – you can’t
replicate the effect” Archie didn’t seem nearly as disappointed as Harry thought he’d be
“and if you let it slip, I’ll hurt you” he seemed to ignore the threat.

“That’s cool I guess, the only magic I want to do on the holidays doesn’t need a wand so I
don’t much care” ah, well that made sense. When he wasn’t working at the inn, Archie
spent the majority of his time in his own room brewing and experimenting with potions –
Harry was more surprised that he hadn’t blown himself and the place up, but he guessed
it went to show how skilled he was with a cauldron.

Remus came out from the back wearing an apron and a towel hanging over his shoulder
glaring at Harry.

“I waited nearly all night for you, when did you finish squandering your families fortune?”
Archie perked up at this, not knowing himself where Harry disappeared to last night.
“I got home at seven” he answered, as he chewed on his bacon.

“What the hell where you doing up so…oh you sly dog you, who is she?” Archie asked with
a grin as Remus shot him a glare.

“He wasn’t with some girl” Remus said, but pause slightly “but if there is an indication at
school that he may be considering such actions, you come and tell me okay” he said with
a conspiratory wink as they both giggled “no, this idiot boy went and joined the Lord
Game of Poker that the goblins hosted last night, using half of his family fortune to join in!”

Archie was gaping at Harry like a fish out of water “…the buy-in for those games is
like…a hundred thousand galleons…”

“Two hundred thousand” Harry corrected, as if it were the most common thing in the
world. This only seemed to shock Archie more.

“And you lost two hundred thousand galleons…for what exactly?” Archie asked, still
shocked “if you wanted to just throw away from gold…you could have thrown it my
way…I’ve seem some ingredients shops in Knockturn Alley with some expensive shit…”

“Why does everyone assume I lost?” he asked, hiding his grin expertly.

Utter silence met his question, only to be broken by Remus “Don’t tell me you actually won?...”

Harry remained silent as he continued to eat his breakfast “This is beautiful, as usual,
Lizzy” he praised his little house-elf who flushed with embarrassment and busied herself
with washing the bench.

Remus and Archie by this time were getting annoyed with the silence “Well? What happened?!

Harry looked up to them in confusion “Egads man, make up your mind, you said not to tell
you if I won, and now you want me to?”

“DID YOU WIN OR NOT?!” he snapped, while Harry shook his head in amusement.

“Mhmm” his proclamation shocked the two into silence once again.

“…what were the winnings exactly?...” Archie asked, his voice faint.

“Eight players, two hundred thousand galleon buy-in, I won exactly one million, four
hundred thousand galleons” this proclamation seemed to shut down both Remus’s and
Archie’s brains – both of whom were now gaping at him like idiots, not sure exactly what
to say to that, until…

There was a thump as Archie slid off his chair and fainted dead on the ground. Remus
used his hand to steady himself on the bench, feeling quite faint himself.

“I’m too old for this shit…”

“Ah Lucius, what a surprise, please, come in…” Cornelius Fudge moved aside from his
office door to usher in the tall, blonde haired man carrying a cane with the head of a
silver serpent.
“Cornelius, how are things today – not too troublesome, I hope?” Lucius Malfoy drawled,
his voice nothing but polite and courteous, yet one couldn’t help but feel like he was the
stranger offering candy your parents always warned you about.

“Ah, just another meeting with the Wizengamot, as you know, bothersome as usual” he
said with a sigh as he took a seat in his rather large and comfortable chair, motioning the
Malfoy Lord to take a seat opposite him “Merlin, if I have to listen to Bones go on about
the lowering number of werewolf attacks, or the decrease in crimes committed by dark
creatures ever since the opening of that hovel of an inn, I think I’m going to scream” he
said, sounding as irritated as he looked.

“You don’t sound too fond of the Potter heir and his werewolf guardian, if you don’t mind
me saying, minister” he said with an enticing voice, he couldn’t help but be intrigued in
the matter.

“That…brat!” he spat, spittle leaving his mouth as he did so and Malfoy couldn’t help but
feel disgusted “is the bane of my existence! Ever since he embarrassed me in the
Wizengamot and opened that inn of his with his…monster… of a guardian, my public
opinion has been slowly dwindling – can you believe, that witches and wizards, ones we
used to consider good and wholesome, frequent that hole of an inn and mix with those
monstrosities!” Lucius already knew this, but let the man vent regardless “at first I
thought it was just some means for those half-bloods and beasts to drink themselves
silly, without warranting the attention of the Aurors, but now I hear that they have
stolen a majority of mister Wright’s customers too from the Leaky Cauldron and families
are starting to take their children there for dinners and what not!”

“There’s nothing you can really do about it though, is there, Cornelius?” he asked, as his
eyes bored into the balding man’s own “after all, it’s just…good business on the brat and
his pet werewolf’s part” he pointed out as the minister nodded, though it looked to be
begrudgingly.

“So what brings you here Lucius?” Cornelius asked “surely you have more important
matters to attend to then listen to someone like me rant about his troublesome life, I presume?”

Indeed, was the response Lucius Malfoy wanted to give, but he held his tongue “As you
may know, I have, myself, returned from the annual game of lords yesterday evening
with the goblins…”

“Another problem if I’ve ever heard of one…” the minister grumbled.

“Yes, yes, but they do hold the majority of our money, so that should earn them our
respect – for now” he said with a grin “regardless, you wouldn’t believe who took the
winnings” he said, fighting down the urge to scowl at the memory.

“Oh? Who? I’d imagine the Goblin took great pleasure in doing so yet again” Fudge said
with a frown of his own.

“Oh, I assure you they were anything but pleased when your favourite, half-breed
loving, now millionaire heir, took the winnings for himself” he said with a grin, though
remembering quite bitterly how the brat had bested him.

“POTTER?!” he shrieked “how did he even get a seat in that game! Surely his family’s
fortune doesn’t the likes of your own! I would know for I’ve seen its balance many times!”

“Obviously” he drawled “he has garnered enough favour with the Goblins nation to waver
such petty rules” he waited for the minister to calm down “and trying to steal the young
Potter heir’s fortune? How utterly devious of you minister” though he kept his disgust in
check, as if this half-blood, incompetent minister could ever take the Potter fortune for
his own, as if he’d ever allow such a thing!

Fudge had the decency to flush in embarrassment “Well, you see, that brat has caused
me enough embarrassment then he was worth, I figured I could control him somewhat if I
had a hold of his fortune…”

Lucius ignored him and continued to speak “Regardless of whatever your ill-planned
schemes entail, I have one of my own that will remove the thorn that mister Potter is from
our sides permanently, should you play your part to the tee, minister” Lucius said, leaning
in closer when he offered his plan, yet frowning slightly when he realized how he had
worded his proposal, luckily the minister wasn’t astute enough to pick up on his error.

“I’m listening…” the minister said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Have you heard, that young mister Potter is a Parseltongue?...”

Harry stood in the centre of his room, any obstacle or piece of furniture banished to the
far walls, while only clothed in a pair of football shorts as he waved his wand in intricate
patterns, one following the other, as if he were in a trance.
With every new spell he learned, Harry made sure he could perform it to such a degree,
that it could be done successfully while micro-managing several other conjured beings
through animation charms and conjuration. This is why Harry reading a floating book
labelled‘Charms: Battling with Nature by your side’ while several globs of water twirled
around him at different speeds, morphing into the shapes of random animals or objects he
could think of. He would then guide the floating masses of water through several moving
hoops, all of which were still under his control.

The book described that to master Elemental Battle Charms, you had to start small and
build up from there. From conjuring water and learning to manipulate at, you learn the
basics of creating ice or steam – once you learn to manipulate the water’s shape, what is
so difficult about manipulating its temperature and density?

With a few more expert twirls and flicks, one of the globes of water surrounding him split
up into hundreds of thin, pin shaped objects the size of pencils. Harry focused some more
until the temperature in the room dropped considerably, and even in his exhausted and
sweaty state, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Suddenly, with one final
flick, the hundreds of pencil sized darts frosted over as their translucency disappeared
and they took on an icy appearance.

Looking around his room, he looked for a worthy target for his practise, when he found a
pile of letters girls from school he had never spoken to had sent him in hopes of creating
some sort of correspondence. With a flick of his wand, the letters rose up to his eye level
against the wall and with a jab, the ice needles were launched at a high speed towards them.

To his delight, around twenty shattered on impact, failing miserably, but more then fifty
connected with the wall and pinned the letters there in position.

Getting an idea, he grabbed one of the other globes of water and concentrated on it,
waving his wand in a circular motion above his head as it transformed into a compact,
cannon-ball, like projectile. Bringing his wand from over his right shoulder, he practically
punched the air with his wand, sending his newest projectile to where the letters were
stuck, pinned to the wall.

The result was more then satisfying as the cannon-ball of water made a crunching sound
with the wooden wall, impacting in such a way that would leave a true cannon-ball proud.
Increasing the density of the water globes, compacting them in a tight sphere and
launching it at high speeds was definitely a fun thing to do.

Harry looked around for another target and found, to his disappointment, that he had
none – but he wasn’t skilled in transfiguration for nothing!

Giving a quick leftwards flick towards a broken piece of the wall that had hit the floor, it
grew in size as it was transfigured into a wooden baby like doll. This baby, while looking
remarkably like a doll young witches would get as children to play with, had one glaring
difference that put it apart from the rest. It had long greasy hair, a hooked nose and
two beady eyes.

The door to his room opened as Stephanie and Archie let themselves in, having gotten
fed up with knocking for five minutes with no response. Imagine their shock when they
saw a baby doll, eerily sharing several key distinguishable features with their head of
house and idol respectively, floating mid-air not four feet from them.

They didn’t have much time to appreciate it though, as, to their shock, a sphere of water
the size of a Quaffle came speeding towards it and completely smashed it into a million splinter

Stephanie and Archie turned slowly to the source of the watery projectile to see a glaring
Harry, the former flushed madly in embarrassment to catch him in such a state of undress
while the latter was glaring at him for being caught in such a state of undress. Clearly,
the hours of Quidditch practise and duelling had an effect on his body, as Stephanie
would attest to when she saw his athletic figure.

“Put on some clothes you hooligan!” Archie shrieked as he feebly tried to cover the
blushing Stephanie’s eyes with his hands, the girl was viciously swatting them away,
trying to get a better look “There’s a lady present!”

“I believe you are the ones to trespass on me” he said dryly as he sent a silent banishing
charm towards the door to close it “and the lady seems to like what she sees” he said with
a grin, causing the poor girl to flush more. Archie just glared harder at him for flirting
with someone that was clearly ‘out of bounds’.

Harry disappeared behind a screen as Stephanie elbowed Archie, now that Harry was
gone, so he could remove his hands from her eyes. Harry appeared from behind the
screen, as fresh as if he had just come out of a shower, wearing the same football shorts
and a black singlet.

“More clothes!” Archie hissed “Have you no decency, we are practically in the presence of
royalty!”

Archie missed the brief look of surprise on Stephanie’s flushed face at such a proclamation
while Harry shrugged “It’s rather hot in here, wouldn’t you agree Stephanie?”

The girl just nodded, too stunned to actually put two words together. This time it was
Archie who elbowed her in the ribs, to knock her out of her daze. Shaking the cobwebs
out of her head, she regained her bearings before glaring at Harry.
“Yes, clearly you should dress more appropriately when someone who is clearly your
better decides to grace you with their presence” she said snobbishly, though the smirk on
her face lessened the effect.

“Yes, well, seeing as there is no one in existence that can call themselves my better, I
guess I should feel safe walking around like this then?” he said with a shrug as he righted
his room, getting incredulous looks from Stephanie with the more magic he used.

“Rather high opinion of yourself then Potter, and will you stop using magic?!” she finished
off in a harsh whisper “are you trying to get expelled?!”

Archie looked to Harry with a raised brow to which he just responded with an
unconcerned shrug.

“Magic cast by his wand can’t be detected by the ministry Stephy” she just glared at him
after he finished his short explanation, as if waiting for something expectantly.

“Steph” he amended, but the glare didn’t lessen.

“Stephanie” her eyes remained narrowed and she rolled up her sleeve.

“Miss Zabini?” he tried hopefully, though she continued to advance on him.

“Madam Zabini?” he tried feebly, and while her glare lessened to an amused smirk, she
didn’t stop her advance.

“QUEEN ZABINI! FINE!” he relented, as the beautiful girl nodded in approval at her title.

Harry shook his head in amusement “You two aren’t even married yet and you already
have him whipped.”

“Say something Harry?” she asked dangerously, as her ire was basically transferred to
the ebony haired teen while Archie looked like he was off in his ‘Happy Place’ as the
implications of what Harry said set in.

“I said” he said, raising his voice “you’re not even married yet and you already have him
whipped” he enunciated, as if reiterating to a toddler “Merlin, I like how you have you
hair down and all, but if it affects your hearing so much, perhaps you should tie it up
again” he said in mock seriousness while Stephanie just glared at him.

“Hey, why don’t you hit him, you would have probably killed me by now if I said something
like that!” Archie whined while Stephanie stopped glaring and looked to Archie.

“First of all, he has a wand and can defend himself should I try to attack him…” Harry cut
her off before she could make any other bullshit excuses.

“That, and the fact that what I said is completely true” Harry added, getting a flush of
embarrassment from Stephanie and a victorious grin from Archie as he wrapped his arm
around her shoulder.

Stephanie merely glared at the offensive appendage as Archie’s smirk faltered “Right,
well, I got to get back to work, Steph, tell him what Remus wanted, and Potter…” Archie
trailed off as he walked out of the room backwards. Stephanie couldn’t see what he was
doing as her back was to him, but Harry had no such problem. With his limited Charades
experience, he deduced he was trying to convey something on the lines of ‘I like
exploding cheesecake’ or ‘Don’t even try make a move on her or I’ll slip a poison into your
breakfast’.

He assumed it was the latter, but you could never tell with Archie…

“So, what the hell was that with your wand? I know there’s more to it then what Archie
said” she said, as she took a seat on his very expensive desk chair and put her feet up on
his equally expensive desk. Using his wand, he levitated her away from the desk and
deposited her on the couch that was replaced in its original position.

“The couch is for sitting” he said with a glare, as he ignored her inferior one “and my
wand was created before the ministry was formed, it’s hard to have tracking charms
when a wand predates the people tracking them, hmm?” he offered as he put away the
books he was reading in his private bookshelf while cleaning up his room and repairing
the damages he caused “I suppose I don’t have to tell you to keep this a secret?”

Stephanie nodded, having already assumed that and knowing she wouldn’t tell anyone
anyway even if he hadn’t mentioned it “You know, when Archie told me you fantasized
about kicking a baby Snape, I only thought he was kidding…” she trailed off with a grin.

Harry shrugged “He was being rather generous really” he admitted “I pictured myself
doing much worse then kicking, as you could see from my earlier display” he motioned to
the splinters on the floor that were once ‘Baby Snape’ which he promptly cleaned with a
quick charm.

The two lapsed into an awkward silence, well, it was awkward for Stephanie; Harry was
just busying himself with cleaning his room.

“Why do you keep ignoring Archades’s advances?” he asked, a grin tucking at his lips as
his back was to the girl – manipulating people was fun.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business” she replied curtly, her back suddenly
straightening as Harry went down a line of questioning she didn’t fancy following.

“Is there a reason, perhaps, for you to dislike him then?” he slightly changed the topic
while keeping her on her toes.

“You mean other then the fact that he’s annoying, he embarrasses me on a daily basis,
he’s clingy, and he’s a nerd?” she shot back irritably.

Harry turned around at that “Nerd, you say?” he sounded intrigued “what makes you say that?”

“Oh come on, Harry, you may be his friend, but surely you realize” she said with a scoff “if
he’s not annoying me, he has his nose stuck in some potions book, his head over some
cauldron, or his head up Snape’s arse…”

Surprised by the mean, if not slightly accurate depiction of Archie’s life, Harry almost lost
his train of thought, but he didn’t give up. Archie was annoying when he was depressed,
and as long as Stephanie would continue to ignore him and his feelings, he would remain
depressed, and thus, annoying.

“Is that right? Yet you had no qualms about asking me to Hogsmeade?” he said, completely
ignoring the embarrassed flush that crept up on her features at the mention of that
embarrassing experience.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant at all; you’re nothing like him…” she said, her
embarrassment regarding the topic of conversation clearly in her voice.

Harry looked at her with amusement “Is that so? What do you think I was doing when you
came in my room?” he asked, ignoring how embarrassed the girl looked as those memories
resurfaced “I was doing what I do during ninety percent of my holidays; studying” he
neglected to add in that what he was doing wasn’t on the Hogwarts curriculum, but that
didn’t matter at the moment.

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?” Harry interrupted, a little harshly “you think because Archades excels at
Potions, it makes his feelings regarding you any less real?” he asked with a scoff “the boy
adores you, I’d probably say it was borderline obsession if it weren’t for the fact that he
decided to move away from living with you so he could work” he emphasised the key words
in his argument “how many boys our age would willingly do that? Move away from life with
a rich family where he no doubt could ‘annoy’ you all he wanted, only to come here, and
work, to make his own way in the world?”

Stephanie had no answer for that as she looked to her lap, her hands clenched in fists on
her knees.

“You know what I find most amusing?” he asked, getting her attention “do you know how
many girls would give their right arm to even have a date with him?” he asked the
incredulous girl “Oh, I kid you not, despite how perverted the little letch is, he has –
continuously I might add – knocked back every female asking him to either go on a date,
snog, or become his girlfriend” he said, however the doubt in his eyes angered him slightly
“they seem to find something in his qualities that makes him good boyfriend material, what
it is, I don’t know, but they definitely do.”

“I doubt that…” she said, only to be cut off as Harry turned on her, peering intently into
the girl’s eyes. Stephanie wasn’t sure what was happening, but she felt a slight tingling in
her mind and had the urge to look away, but she just couldn’t…those wonderful emerald
eyes… it was like if she continued looking into them, everything would be alright.

As quickly as the feeling arrived, it left, leaving her confused as to what had actually
happened. Her thoughts must have conveyed themselves to Harry, for he answered
them for her.

“You may be able to lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me” he said in a low whisper “you
project your thoughts as if you were yelling them to the world, you know” he began
“Firstly, you say that you think he’s not one of the best looking guys in our year level,
even if you actually believe quite the opposite, so you can’t not like him for superficial
reasons” he stated, ignoring the look of horror on her face “Secondly, despite the fact
that you say he annoys you, you find the constant attention he gives you to be
flattering and sweet, and now that you’ve learned that he ignores other girls who
willingly throw themselves at his feet, that belief has only increased…”

Stephanie’s eyes widened in horror as she backed away from Harry around the couch
“You read my mind!” she accused with indignation and horror, which he promptly ignored.

“Thirdly, not only are you impressed by his obvious skill with potions, you are slightly
envious because you yourself don’t have a field of specialization to excel in like he or I do;
the praise your parents gave him for it only served to increase that envy, yet you still
admire his determination and find it to be an appealing quality” Harry would normally feel
guilty about using Legilimency to delve into someone’s thoughts like this, but Stephanie
was being childish and he didn’t much care of what she thought of him – if anything, his
actions now would probably forever destroy any thoughts she may have regarding the
two of them becoming a pair, a concept he had no problem with. He did though, if he
was honest with himself, feel a little bad for completely betraying her trust like this, but it
couldn’t be helped.

“I wonder what you would think when you realize that the entire reason behind his drive
to better himself in Potions is because of his mother?” he asked, causing Stephanie’s
anger and indignation at having her thoughts read to disappear, only to be replaced by
shock “yes, he told me, we’re a lot alike in that regard; we both have our mothers as
motivators to better ourselves; except with his mother, things were a lot more tragic and
dark” he hissed, almost reverting to Parseltongue, as he sometimes did when he was annoyed.

Stephanie wanted to know how Harry thought he had something in common in regards to
Archie and their mothers, but kept her thoughts to herself and cleared her mind, hoping
such things couldn’t be read too by the boy she once considered a friend...

“His entire reason for bettering himself at Potions wasn’t because he loved the art - not at
first anyway - it is so he can find a cure for Lycanthropy” he said to the shocked girl “a
fool’s errand, you think?” Harry had quickly used Legilimency again to ascertain her
thoughts on Archie’s dream, not surprised with what he found.

“I wouldn’t think like that if I was you; while not as skilled in the art of Potions as
Archades, I can understand the theory behind it just fine, he’s closer to discovering the
cure then Potions Mastersdecades his senior!”

Okay, Stephanie thought; that definitely stumped her. Archie was that good at Potions?
Or was it that no one else tried to find a cure? Perhaps she just didn’t want to admit that
something Archie had done had impressed her? She put those thoughts away for later.

Harry eased up and straightened himself, looking down at her seated position while
cleaning his glasses with the underside of his singlet.

“No, I didn’t read your mind, a mind is far too complicated to be read” he explained, his
voice sounding slightly soothing after the grilling he had just given her “I read your
surface thoughts, and sifted through some relevant memories. It is a difficult branch of
magic called Legilimency, if you want to stop me doing it in the future, I would suggest
you research its counterpart; Occlumency” he told her in a softer voice.

“You bastard…” she muttered, her voice cracking slightly at having her mind so easily violated.

“Realized it, have you?” he asked apathetically “yes Stephanie, I am a bastard, I am an

asshole, I am despicable, the sooner people learn this the better, because that fact is
likely not to change, its who I am, amongst many other things…”

Harry locked eyes with her again “Despite what you think you know about me, I assure
you, its not even close to what I really am” he said, sending shivers down her spine “I care
little for schoolyard squabbles and childish dreams, I don’t care for people’s feelings when
it comes to getting what I want – unless the person’s feelings in question are a close
friend of mine – and would sooner ignore most people entirely then be forced to have
conversations with them if they annoy me” he explained “You judged me on appearance
alone and readily asked me out on a date – knowing me now, would you do so again?”

“NO” she bit out; Harry nodded in approval and gave her a small smile, which shocked
her somewhat – Harry seemed so bipolar sometimes.

“Then you’ve learned something valuable” he said, with an approving nod “You know, I’m
hardly the person to ask on such a matter, but do you want to know what I think love is?”

He didn’t wait for her answer, but she did look at him curiously, wasn’t he the one not a
moment ago saying he didn’t care about such things? Love was a kind of emotion, the
strongest in her opinion. What did this even have to do with anything anyway? “Love isn’t
finding your ‘soul-mate’ and living happily ever after, or what have you, I don’t believe in
such things” he said as he waved his hand dismissively “Love is finding someone who
loves you as much as you love them despite their flaws, you can’t love only ‘parts’ of
someone after all, that’s just ignorance at its best” Harry shook his head and looked down
at her “Yes, Archades may annoy you, embarrass you, ‘cling’ to you, and frustrate you,
but you can’t lie to me, we both know its what you love about him – the sooner you realize
this the better, you understand?”

She gave a small nod and looked away from his eyes; she didn’t want to look at him right
now as she still felt sore about him violating her privacy like he did. Suddenly, as Harry
continued to clean his room, something in her mind clicked as she replayed his speech over
in her mind.

With his explanation of what ‘love’ was, and what he revealed about what he thought of
himself and his personality, she came to a shocking realization.

“You don’t think you’re worthy of love…” she whispered, though Harry heard it perfectly
and she was shocked to see him stiffen slightly “You purposefully push people away so
they won’t ever be given the chance to, that’s why you ignore everyone and are so cold
to them…” Before she could push further however, she was startled to see him turn on
her with no emotion whatsoever in his eyes and interrupt her revelation.

“Archades said something about Remus wanting to tell me something?” he asked, his
voice betraying nothing yet at the same time, it betrayed everything. Stephanie couldn’t
help but feel pity for him.

“He…err…said somebody was here to see you, oh! I probably should have told you
sooner” she grinned, flushing in embarrassment. Harry nodded distractedly and just
looked at her. She was somewhat elated to see a spark of mischievousness enter his
emotionless eyes.

“I usually don’t do free shows, so unless you’ll be paying, I suggest you leave so I can
get changed…” he drawled as she bolted out of the room after only a moment’s hesitation
so he could do just that.

Harry shook his head slightly at her antics, she and Archie were perfect for each other;
they were both equally annoying in their own ways. Putting on a pair of jeans and a
cardigan, he put on some cologne before heading downstairs, using Occlumency to clear
his mind of the painful thoughts Stephanie’s words had made surface earlier.

Harry appeared downstairs, spotting the visiting Stephanie sitting at a table by herself
playing with her dinner while staring off into space – she seemed to be deep in thought.
So she should be, he thought.
Moony Nights had become a fairly popular location, was the main thought running through
Harry’s mind, as he scanned the busy crowd of people dining and socializing while looking
for a particular Goblin he had scheduled to meet with.

No one could blame him for being confused when his search ended in vain. Had Remus not
called for him? Telling him that someone was here to meet with him? If it wasn’t
Bronzespear, then who else would be meeting with him? He hadn’t made any other
appointments.

“Harry, over here!” he heard Remus call for him from the bar. Harry turned to see the
werewolf chatting with a rather plump, and jolly looking old man wearing an expensive
suit with a rather oddly coloured tie. The suit was predominantly black in colour while his
tie was mostly white with two red stripes meeting towards the upper left part of the piece
of cloth, creating a cross.

Walking over, somewhat annoyed at being called down to meet some random friend of
Remus’s, he nodded to the stranger before turning on the werewolf.

“What is it Remus? I thought I asked you to call me when Bronzespear arrived; is he

here?” he asked, making sure the man heard of his confusion.

“Sorry to lead you on Harry, but there’s someone who would very much like to meet you”
he said, motioning to the large man “This here is Thomas Redbridge, the coach for the
English national Quidditch team” he stated, trying and failing to hide his glee.

Hiding his shock expertly, Harry turned to the man expectantly “And what does mister
Redbridge want with me exactly?”

The smile never left the man’s face “You wouldn’t have known, mister Potter, but last
year, I sent some of my scouts to watch some of your games after I was told from a
very valuable source of your skill” he said “and after what my scouts told me, and given
the situation I and my team find ourselves in, I have come to make you a proposition” he
said with a grin.

Harry cocked his head to the side, as if waiting for him to elaborate. Catching himself,
the England coach continued.

“Right, well, basically, one of our main chasers has received irreparable damage to his
left arm, ending his Quidditch career earlier then we would have liked…” he was cut off by
an incredulous Harry.

“Which one?” he asked.

“Robert Beach” he answered, to Harry’s shock. England’s best chaser, nicknamed ‘the
cannon’ for his super powerful throws, had his career ended by an arm injury?!

“How is it I’ve never heard of this? I don’t much follow the international leagues until the
World Cup is on, but surely others would have been talking about it…” Harry trailed off,
leaving his question in the air.

“Ah, yes, well that was a collective decision made by management and the team – no
need to worry the public by telling them that we have only two chasers mere months
before the World Cup qualifiers – there’ll be a press conference soon when we find a
replacement” he beamed.

Harry wasn’t the smartest student in his year for nothing, he easily connected the dots
with the English coach’s appearance, the information of England lacking a chaser and the
meeting with himself personally.

“Okay, I think it’s obvious why you’re here, but why me? Surely you can find someone
better then I am from the national league?” he asked, clearly confused.

The English coach laughed loudly at Harry’s proclamation, much to the confusion of his
two hosts.

“My boy, clearly you underestimate your own skill; I have watched Pensieve memories of
the matches the scouts watched you play. Your passes, they’re like speeding bludgers
shot with pinpoint accuracy from a world class beater; Your shots, not only powerful, but
fast and skilful, I’ve seen you bend that Quaffle like you were controlling it with your will!
Let’s not forget to mention your flying skills, you act as if you were a bird and the broom
is your wings, the two of you together are like one and are an inspiration to watch!” he
praised, as Harry began to feel uncomfortable with Remus beaming at him and the
coach’s continuous praise.

“Yes, fair enough, but you do understand I am still in school, correct?” the fact didn’t
seem to bother the man though.

“Merely details, my boy; you’re not the first student to be requested to represent your
country on the Quidditch pitch and you certainly won’t be the last” he informed the
overwhelmed fourteen year old “Team training will only occur in the evenings and on
weekends, with permission of your headmaster, of course, to accommodate your school
timetable; unfortunately, you will have to quit your house’s Quidditch team, we cannot run
the risk of injury in any game other then England’s” he said, with remorse “this doesn’t
seem to be an issue though, because from what Professor Flitwick has told us, your
attendance to classes is hardly an issue when it comes to your grades…” he said with a grin.

“You talked to Professor Flitwick about this?” Harry asked, surprised “what did he have to
say about it? Surely he wasn’t pleased with the prospect of losing me on the house team”
he said “should I accept of course” he hastily amended.

“Ah, on the contrary, he seemed delighted. He may have been a little put out with not
being assured the Quidditch Cup every year while you attend school, but he made it
understood that he would rather see you succeed then have an old cup placed in his
office every year, as it were” he said with a grin.

Harry remained silent while Remus listened on, his anticipation growing by the second.

“Should I accept” he began “what is the pay like?” he asked, and Remus almost fell of the
stool he was sitting on. He is asked to play for his country, an honour people would normally
kill for, and all he asks about is the pay?!

Thomas, however, seemed to find this amusing as he gave out a loud laugh. After
calming down somewhat, Harry asked what was so funny, and the man answered.

“Mister Potter, I have been the coach of this team for many years, the last Potter I invited
to join my team asked me the very same question you just did after the offer was made”
he said with a grin, much to the shock of Harry and Remus.
“James never played for England…” Remus said, still in a daze “and he never mentioned
anything about being approached to play for them either…”

“I’d imagine as much” he said, more sombrely now “he was incredibly tempted to accept at
first, but unfortunately, with the road the war was taking, he decided his talents would
be of better use in the Auror corps” he said with a sad smile “fortunately for me, there’s
no war currently on that I know of and we’d be happy to have you play for us, mister
Potter” he said with a large grin, officially making his offer “your salary mainly depends on
your performance during our games; the current rate for our chases, from memory, is
five thousand galleons per goal, twenty five hundred galleons per goal assist, one
thousand galleons per interception, forty thousand galleons should we win the game and
ten thousand galleons if we lose” he said, grinning at the gob smacked expressions on
Remus’s and Harry’s faces “there’s also the basic ten thousand galleons a month salary
when we are simply training and no matches occur; the training is intense and you should
be compensated for the hard work you are putting forth for your Country” he said, as the
two listening were still very much shocked “yes, new players usually react the same,
Quidditch is a very popular sport with very few skilled players, therefore, it pays quite
well, don’t you think? After all, a game on average can pull in over one hundred thousand
fans easily” he said with a smile, as Harry and Remus snapped out of their stupor.

“I accept” Harry said immediately, much to Remus’s and the Coach’s delight.

“Wonderful!” he said with a smile “here’s my card, this meeting was an unofficial one, we
will have to have your official signing at a later date” he handed Harry a regular card with
his information on it. The card itself was a creamy parchment colour while otherwise devoid
of all but one decoration, a moving snitch picture behind the coach’s contact details “my
secretary will owl you with the time of our meeting, be there and we can finalize this
arrangement, have a nice evening” he said, as he bowed shortly and left the two in a
stunned silence.

“Even if you only play up until this next world cup…” Remus began, as the two stood in
silence “that will earn you enough so you’ll never have to work for the rest of your life…”
he said, still in a daze “I need a drink” he admitted, sitting heavily down on his stool.

“Supposing I don’t spend it all” he said with a shrug, luckily Remus was out of earshot or
he probably would be drinking from the bottle instead. The sound of the door to the inn
opening quickly and being shut caught his attention over the hustle and bustle of the
crowd of patrons. Looking over, he noticed Bronzespear sneaking around, eyeing
everyone he passed suspiciously with a heavily wrapped package held under his arm –
Goblins weren’t known for their subtlety.

“I’ll talk to you later Remus, my guest is here” he said with a grin, as he made his way
over to the Goblin.

Bronzespear and Harry sat on the comfortable and antique looking chesterfield chairs by
the fireplace with a small Victorian style table separating them sporting the package the
Goblin was carrying. Due to the fact that business had been going so well, Remus had
been able to upgrade the furniture to that of a more expensive and classy variety, he
did however make sure to have unbreakable charms placed on them – no need to have
them replaced if they broke, these things were damn expensive!
“You brought what I asked for?” Harry asked, eyeing the package with a hidden delight.

“Yes” the Goblin ground out “as per our deal, I don’t know what use it is to you though,
you won’t be able to read it…” the Goblin grumbled.

“I assure you I will be able to, I am a Parselmouth after all” he said, sliding the package
over to him as he unwrapped it slowly, and reverently ignoring the Goblin’s shock at the
revelation of his abilities.

Inside the package was an worn looking black leather covered book, no larger then your
average diary with a buckle coming from the back cover, over the side and attaching to
the front, keeping its contents inside a secret to all then those who could unlock it. The
buckle itself, instead of having a padlock for a key to unlock it, was simply the head of a
serpent with two emeralds placed in its eye sockets to emulate its eyes.

To anyone that wanted to read the title of the book, all they would see is a set of
strange, unintelligible markings, but to Harry, who had studied the language extensively
and to the best of his abilities given the lack of information, the letters seemed like perfect
English.

In Parseltongue, the title read ‘The Diary of Salazar Slytherin’

Several weeks had passed he received the diary of Salazar Slytherin and these weeks
were far from normal. At first, when Archie heard of him making the English national team
at such a young age, he had hugged him and started jumping around the room in a ball of
excitement, which is why Harry was caught completely off guard when his friend punched
him in the mouth immediately after.
Stephanie had told Archie about their little discussion and use of Legilimency, and while
Archie appreciated the effort, he didn’t appreciate her being attacked in such a way –
even though he did thank Harry for talking to her about it. Harry didn’t much care
because he knew, in some level, that he deserved it. That and the reaction he got out of
Archie when he told him about the fact that if the media ever found out that he had
punched England’s new chaser, he’d be crucified.

The meeting had gone as planned, with both parties happy with the contract drawn up
that would keep Harry at England until the world cup campaign had ended. Mister
Redbridge was a little disappointed that he’d only be staying on for one campaign, but
Harry had said that he would have other plans that he was already committed to after
school, he understood.

The Press Conference to officially announce his signing was met with mixed reactions.
Shock that one of their best chasers had a career ending injury, and excitement of the
prospect of Harry playing for them, especially with the coach singing his praises like he
was the next coming of Thierry Henry, but for Quidditch. His training sessions had
already begun, immediately after signing the contract, with the English team…

If he thought training with Ravenclaw was tough, their training was ridiculous. While
there was no school, Harry was required to attend training five times a week, from seven
in the evening until midnight – needless to say, the gruelling physical workouts and tactics
training with his fellow chasers left him with little energy to spare. After all, it wasn’t often
school children were recruited into the chaser position, it was the more physically
demanding position of them all and was hard for someone his age to play well, luckily, in
his opinion, he was just that good…

It only took two weeks for Stephanie to talk with him again after their little conversation,
in private of course, in which she had still said she was angry with him for invading her
mind, but thankful for opening her eyes, and while she didn’t admit to having feelings for
Archie, she did admit to being unfair to him. Harry had thought that was more then he
had bargained for and let it slide, but Stephanie did ask him for any help on Occlumency
he could give her, saying that it was his responsibility after having violated her so.

He agreed, somewhat reluctantly, mainly because Archie would probably try to punch him
again if he didn’t. He had given her his personal notes on his progress in the art that had
formed a small book that should be simple enough to follow and learn from, she was thankful.

Without a doubt though, the most frustrating thing of all was the fact that he couldn’t get
Slytherin’s diary open. He had thought it would simply be an ‘open’ command to get
passed the lock, but unfortunately, the password seemed to be much more difficult to
guess then he had originally anticipated. Obviously, Slytherin didn’t even want his
descendents reading his private journal.

Another unfortunate thing that plagued Harry’s time up until he went back to school
however were reporters and new fans mobbing him whenever he left the inn to go
shopping or get some fresh air. Luckily, he could safely Floo to the warded stadium where
he trained with his new team, or eat his meals in the inn without getting mobbed or he’d
probably never leave his room. The most annoying of all the reporters, however, was
Rita Skeeter, who, for some reason, deemed it necessary to print complete fabrications in
her article on the daily prophet about him – amusing because he hadn’t once had an
interview with her…

Things like how he had several girlfriends ‘on the side’ while keeping with his bad boy
image. Rumours of him being a dark wizard due to his Parseltongue ability, which was
now common knowledge to anyone who knew his name, were also common place. Not to
mention, his personal favourite, that he was hiding a pregnant girlfriend while he
remained locked in his room, hoping his fans wouldn’t find out and think less of him. He’d
probably sue her for character defamation if the articles weren’t so damn amusing.

His newfound fame also meant that he couldn’t even go to Diagon Alley to get his books
for the next year without getting mobbed. So instead of placing a glamour charm over
himself, claiming that he couldn’t be bothered, he just gave his booklist to Archie,
Stephanie and Cedric who had agreed to go shopping together on the same day, so they
could get his books and potions supplies – he later regretted giving Archie his vault key
temporarily to buy Potions supplies, especially when he arrived back with his stores holding
rare ingredients he knew he’d never find a use for, like Gillyweed, though he was sure
Archie would ask to borrow them sometimes down the road for his experiments…

What he did find annoying though, was what Archie had reported to him about from his
shopping trip. Apparently, the three of them had gone to Flourish and Blotts to buy their
books only to find Gilderoy Lockhart signing his new autobiography ‘Magical Me’.
Apparently, he and the boy-who-lived had milked the public attention for all it was
worth, however, that wasn’t what annoyed him. What annoyed him was that the famous
wizard had announced that he would be the ‘Defence Against the Dark Arts’ teacher at
Hogwarts this year.

Why would he be annoyed with such an accomplished Wizard becoming a professor? The
simple answer was his accomplishments were all a load of bullocks. Archie had, during their
holidays, with his work money, bought one of his books that were on sale at ‘Flourish and
Blotts’, thinking it would be a good read from what he had heard about the man.
Unfortunately, Harry and he had both read it and found a total number of two hundred
and fifty three mentions of the man’s own name in it and more then enough inconsistencies
that it was painfully obvious the man was a joke and completely loved himself.
Aside from practising with his new team, continuing his personal studies and daily
attempting random passwords in Parseltongue to try and open Slytherin’s diary, Harry did
nothing else with his time. So it was with a glamour charm that Harry travelled to King’s
Cross Station with Archades and Remus to head off to his fourth year at Hogwarts, a
year that he knew would promise a shit load of annoyances…
Chapter: 14
Chapter 15: Heartache

“Look, he’s here!”

“Isn’t he England’s new chaser?!”

“But he’s so young…”

“He’s just a boy!”

“So disgusting how he got all those women pregnant…”

“Whatever, he’s probably not even that good…” a rather deluded first year yelled over
the crowd of people gathered at platform nine and three quarters gawking at Harry.

Harry walked passed them casually, forgoing his glamour charm keeping his identity a
secret, with Archie and Stephanie by his side.

“Are you just going to ignore everyone?” Stephanie asked with a frown as Harry walked
passed a rather cute young girl asking for his autograph, not caring at all that he had
probably broken her little heart “not all of them are the vulture types” she mumbled,
patting the little girl on the head as she started to tear up.

Harry didn’t seem to care though and just shrugged, not caring in the slightest.

“Hey, you’re ignoring us too now?” Archie asked, with a frown.

Harry’s answer was just a raising of the eyebrow and stuffing of his long, black, woollen
coat’s pockets.

Archie eyed Harry up and down before frowning at him “What are you, a Quidditch player
or a model?”

Stephanie looked to him too with a contemplative look on her face as Harry looked himself
over; knee length black coat, tight jeans, tight leather gloves, cashmere scarf and fairly
expensive dragon hide boots.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, a frown marring his features “I threw something on, I like
looking good, so what?”

“For who?” he asked sarcastically “your adoring fans?” he motioned towards the little girl
they had just passed.

“Narcissa Malfoy” Harry answered, or Archie assumed answered to his question. If Archie
and Stephanie had been drinking anything, he was sure they would have spit it out on
instinct to avoid choking.

“What the hell are you…” Archie began but was interrupted by a regal and elegant voice
speaking over his protests.
“You must be the famous Harry Potter” she said with a raised brow “I must confess, I am
no Quidditch fan, but I expected…” she eyed him up and down, like a snake eyeing its
prey “more” she finished, a small smirk on her face, as if expecting something.

Harry mirrored her raised brow while Stephanie and Archie gawked at the scene; the wife
of the Lord Malfoy casually addressing Harry on the middle of platform nine and three
quarters without her husband’s company? The chances of that happening normally are as
high as the chances of Harry going back to that little girl and giving her a piggy back ride
around the platform – not high…

“I am afraid I have yet to purchase a pimp cane like your husband’s, so I may come off as
lacking” he said, with faux regret “fortunately for you though, Mrs Malfoy, if that and
strapping young men are what get you off, I will make it my top priority to rectify that as
soon as possible” he said, with a mocking bow.

If Archie and Stephanie weren’t shocked before, they definitely were now – Harry was
flirting with an influential lord’s wide, adangerouslord who is suspected of being an
ex-death eater.

“As crude as your father with a wit to match your mother’s” she said with narrowed
eyes, though the slight smirk on her lips completely ruined the effect.

“I take it you would appreciate the gesture then?” he asked “I will put in an order as soon
as possible then, I’ve always wanted a cane, now that you mention it…”

“I hope, Mister Potter, that you do not need one to compensate for something you may
or may not be lacking, unlike my husband” she said with a wink; Harry snorted in
amusement at her joke, or statement of amusing facts…

Archie and Stephanie looked to each other, confused whether they should be laughing at
the ridiculous situations Harry always seems to find himself in, crying because this
certainly meant nothing good, or running because Armageddon draws near.

“Be careful, Mrs Malfoy, keep inflating my ego like you are and you’ll be in trouble” he said
in a serious voice, causing the Lady to pause in surprise, not expecting Harry to be so
serious “I hear my sperm is very potent and I’m quite the whore, I think being the father
of seventeen is more then enough” he sighed as Narcissa laughed elegantly at his joke.

“Quite” she agreed “You can call me Narcissa, Mister Potter” she said, extending her
gloved hand to him, as Harry swiftly took it and brushed his lips over her knuckle.

“Narcissa it is then, so, what is it I can do for you?” he asked, all amusement aside “your
sore loser of a husband is surprisingly missing, I didn’t think he’d leave his trophy wife by
herself for so long…” he trailed off, eyeing his companions.

Narcissa eyed them too before turning to Harry, with a guarded look in her eyes. Harry
sent a brief Legilimency probe at the woman, surprised to find himself meeting resistance
before Narcissa’s eyes widened in surprise. She allowed him a quick scan to read her
intentions before pushing him out of her mind again.

“Stephanie, Archades, go find a compartment, I’ll meet up with you later” he said,
dismissing them politely.
“You sure, mate?” Archie asked, while Stephanie looked concerned.

“I’ll be fine, Archades” he assured, his right side turned away from Narcissa, so he could
easily show them his wand poking out of his sleeve. That was enough to convince them
as they departed with polite nods and boarded the train.

Making sure no one was near earshot, Harry turned to Narcissa, letting the elegant
woman know she had his attention.

“Legilimency skills as good as yours for one so young is extremely rare, Mister Potter” she
praised, after a short silence “I don’t believe my husband’s old master could even boast
such an achievement” she said, and Harry took notice of the fact that she didn’t call him
her master too.

“I try” he conceded “forgive me for the lack of pleasantries now that we are alone, but I
am not the biggest fan of your family’s” he said, with narrowed eyes. Narcissa flinched at
the mention of her family.

“Might I inquire as to which one?” she asked, while looking down.

“Take your pick” he said, his voice lower, as Narcissa nodded.

“I will make this brief then” she said, after regaining her composure “as you may know,
my husband has our esteemed minister very much in his pocket, and the two often
converse over the Floo, sometimes, even, when they are not aware of my presence…”

Harry kept silent, allowing her to continue.

“I overheard the two plotting something nefarious for this year – I didn’t hear much less I
be discovered and obliviated, but your name was mentioned” she paused “that and the
mentioning of some chamber, but that’s all I heard” this information got Harry’s attention.
Could the Malfoy lord be planning something with him and the chamber of secrets?

“Nothing is free in this world, Mrs Malfoy; what is it you wanted for such information?” he
asked, arms crossed with his wand ready to be brought out in a flash if need be.

“You’re not interested as to why I’m giving you this information?” she asked, perplexed by
the turn of events.

“No” he answered simply, wanting to board the train as soon as possible. He didn’t
detect deception or any ill intent from the Malfoy lady, but he wasn’t going to trust her
any time soon, or ever.

“Say, should my husband’s old crowd decide to organize a reunion with their old club
leader, I merely ask for sanctuary and protection from yourself, Lord Potter” she asked
with a bowed head “my views on mud…muggleborn witches and wizards will most likely
never change” she conceded “but I am no murderer, let the lunatics be destroyed for their
beliefs, our world runs just fine the way it is” she explained.

Harry resisted the urge to snort in amusement at her views of the world, but what she
was asking wasn’t particularly hard for him to accomplish – and he could gain valuable
information from her. Should she get caught, well, he honestly didn’t care too much. He
really had nothing to lose.
“I thank you for your warning, Mrs Malfoy, I’ll do my best to aid you should your fears
ever prove warranted” he replied with a nod “should you ever happen across any other
important information, I’m sure you can contact myself or my guardian, I’ll let him know of
our arrangements” he said with a nod, as he began to board the train when he saw
Lucius Malfoy approaching.

“Lord Potter, what a…pleasant surprise” he said, with obvious forced politeness “dear,
what were you and the lad discussing?” he asked, severely interested.

“Your lovely wife merely congratulated my on my new position on the English team but
confessed her less then stellar knowledge about the sport” he interrupted easily “I was
merely explaining to her my gruelling schedule and some of the finer points of the game”
he answered, impressed that Narcissa didn’t show any outward sign of emotion, though
it was expected of and ex-Slytherin and someone of her status.

“Indeed” he replied, looking to his wife “I can only hope you will do this country proud
boy, and not cost us yet another cup” he said, while looking down on Harry.

“Of course not, Lord Malfoy” he replied with his own forced smile “I intend to be…very
good… at the games I play, as you well know” he said, noticing Malfoy’s eyes twitch in
annoyance at the mention of his defeat.

“Indeed, well, run along now, you wouldn’t want to miss your train” he said, dismissing
Harry and leading his wife away by the elbow.

“Of course not” he then boarded the Hogwarts express, ignoring the masses of students
asking for his autograph expertly while looking for Stephanie and Archie.

Archie and Stephanie watched with amused expressions as Harry entered the
compartment with a scowl marring his features.

“Annoyed there, love?” Archie asked with a snort. Harry just glared at him before
plopping down across from his two friends.

“I was only talking with Narcissa for five minutes after you guys left, the rest of the time
was me making my way here, trying my hardest not to conjure glaciers and ramming
them up people’s arses” he said, looking out the window as he tried to calm down.

“You can do that?” Archie asked with a nervous chuckle – Harry was scary when he was
angry. Stephanie had other things interesting her though.

“So it’s Narcissa? I guess you really are into older women, first Professor Vector and now
Narcissa Malfoy?” she asked with a coy grin which Harry merely raised a brow at.

“My, my, Stephanie, such an interest in my love life, how does yours go by the way?” he
asked, glaring at the girl who was still smirking at him.

“No need to snap at her Harry” Archie said with a frown “she’s only making fun.”

“Whatever” Harry looked back out the window “I’m not in a good mood.”

“Lady Malfoy say something to upset you?” Stephanie asked, hoping Harry wouldn’t snap
at her again.
“No” Harry denied “those little maggots out there ogling at me, stopping me every three
seconds to touch me or ask for my autograph, and tripping over themselves in front of
me” he said with a growl. Archie and Stephanie noticed, to their amusement, Harry
fingering his wand.

“The next person that I don’t know that so much at looks at me funny is going to regret…”
his threat was interrupted as the compartment door was slammed open, revealing
Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley.

“It’s him” the red headed boy said in awe. Stephanie and Archie wanted to explode in
laughter right there as Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy and jabbed his wand in their
direction.

Archie and Stephanie actually did break down laughing when Harry launched a Quaffle
sized ball of water at the three second years, sending them reeling back into the corridor
completely drenched.

“Oh Merlin” Archie gasped out as he laughed “that was priceless!”

“That’ll teach them from entering someone else’s compartment without knocking”
Stephanie said as she giggled.

Harry grumbled under his breath as he looked out the window, tucking his wand under his
arm – just in case.

It wasn’t long after Harry blasted the three second years out of their compartment when
a knock interrupted the three once again.

The girl on the other side of the door waited politely for Archie to nod so she could enter.
The girl had long blonde hair and a dreamy expression about her.

“Excuse me, are any of you Harry Potter?” she asked, while playing with her necklace
made of sea shells and other weird trinkets.

“Who wants to know?” Archie asked warily, eyeing Harry who was now fingering his wand
yet again.

“My name’s Luna Lovegood, Professor Lockhart asked me to deliver this to Harry Potter,
he said he was in this compartment” she said while looking into space as if seeing
something that wasn’t there. Harry wondered if she was alright in the head before taking
the folded bit of parchment from her outstretched hand.

Without waiting to be dismissed, the weird girl skipped out of their compartment while
humming a tune. Archie and Harry looked at each other while Stephanie simply looked confuse

“I’m going to go and see my friends, I guess” Stephanie said, as she started towards the door.

“Oh Stephy, you don’t even like them” Archie whined, not wanting to see the object of his
affection leave so early on in the trip.

“That may be true” she conceded “but I do have to live with them, so being civil does help
I guess” she said with a shrug as she left, leaving Harry and Archie alone.

Archie looked to Harry who was reading the letter with a frown.
“What’s it say?” Archie asked, wondering why Harry looked upset.

“He says that he wants to meet with me before we arrive at Hogwarts” he said, before
pulling out his wand and flicking it a few times “something about becoming friends and
celebrities like ‘us’ sticking together” he shook his head in disgust as the parchment glowed
blue for a few moments before fading back to a regular piece of parchment. Casually
tossing the paper towards the door, Archie was surprised to see Harry jab his wand at it,
transfiguring the piece of paper into a small bird… a REAL bird… before it flew away,
presumably towards Lockhart.

“Harry?” Archie called to his friend, after several moments of silence.

“Mm?” he didn’t see it fit to use words, as he was engrossed in a book.

“Did you just transfigure that piece of paper into a real bird?” he asked, in awe.

“Yes” he answered “I also charmed it to shit on his head before turning back into his letter.”

Archie remained silent, as if processing what he had just been told before erupting in
uproarious laughter.

“How the hell does it know when to change back into the letter?!” he asked, through his
laughter.

“It’ll stop flying when it reaches our new professor, when that happens, it will change back.”

“So you made sure it will shit on him before it lands?” Archie asked and Harry nodded.

“Oh man, that’s brilliant” he said, sniggering lightly as Harry smirked.

Harry and Archie, after sharing a carriage with two Hufflepuff fourth years, arrived at
Hogwarts and immediately went to the great hall to have dinner. The hall looked
spectacular as usual when the opening feast was being held, with the hundreds of
floating candles, charmed ceiling, and golden cutlery covering each table.

Archie tried and failed miserably to suppress his giggles when he spotted their new
defence professor glaring at Harry covered in white marks that could only be considered
bird poop. Professor Vector and Sprout, who were seated to his immediate right and left,
inched as far away from him as possible, not wanting to be anywhere near the poop
covered man.

“Why hasn’t he cleaned it off yet?” he heard Archie ask him.

“That’s not regular bird shit” he said with a grin “it will vanish on its own in about a day” he
clarified as Archie snickered.

“Been a victim of that one then, have you?” he asked, referring to his famous pranking
guardian.

“Shut up” Harry said with a glare, which only increased Archie’s mirth.

As Archie conversed with the other Ravenclaws seated near them, Harry looked around
the room, completely ignoring people trying to start conversations with him, whispering
about him and staring at him in the process. He noticed, much to his amusement,
Longbottom, Granger and Weasley engaged in a furious whispered conversation while
glaring daggers at him.

“I would like to welcome you all back for another year of school at Hogwarts” the voice of
Albus Dumbledore rang out to the hall as he made his yearly announcements for the
benefit of the first years mostly.

“I would also like you all to give a warm welcome to the new ‘Defence Against the Dark
Arts’ professor, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart” he said, prompting a loud round of
applause, mainly from the women in the room. Despite his shit covered appearance, the
women still seemed to be swooning, and much to Archie’s dismay, professor Sinistra
seemed to be one of them.

“How could she not see him for the fraud he is?” he hissed in dismay “she’s too beautiful
to be stupid” he whined pitifully.

“Why don’t you prove how incompetent he is then, I’m sure we can have some fun with
that” Harry said, smirking.

Archie brightened up at that and cackled evilly “Harry, my good man, this year is going to
be fun!”

Harry shook his head at his friend’s antics.

School hadn’t become any less annoying for Harry ever since classes started. He
attended his weekly training sessions with the England team, learned of the players
names and begun tactics training with his fellow chasers – who were more then happy to
have Harry input in some of the tactics as well, which surprised him.

When he wasn’t training or doing his homework, Harry could often be found lounging
around in his dormitory with a good book and his wand out, practising the movements.
Sometimes, when there weren’t many people out in the common room, he would head
down and read in front of the fire with a glass of Butterbear, mourning the loss of his
precious coke.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch team and the rest of the house were less then pleased, to say
the least, when they discovered Harry wasn’t permitted to play for the team anymore. If
he was one to care of what people thought about him, he was sure their remarks behind
his back or to his face would have gotten to him by now.

“Look, there’s Potter, the traitor” one very uninformed second year student whispered
very loudly to his friend as Harry came down the stairs from his dorm.

“How is he a traitor?” the boy’s friend asked, perplexed.

“He quit the house team, knowing he was the best player we’ve had in centuries as soon
as he got his contract to play for England during the summer” he informed, as a third boy
spoke up.

“And now that Malfoy had his daddy buy the entire Slytherin team a set of ‘Nimbus 2001’
racing brooms, we could have used him” he said, glaring at Harry.

“Traitor you say?” Archie’s voice sounded out to the entire common room “your logic is
that, Harry” he said, pointing to the spectacled youth “by accepting the contract offer
from England, which states that he can’t risk injury by playing school Quidditch” he
clarified, emphasising the fact that it was school Quidditch “is a traitor to our house?” he
asked “I suppose to the fact that he’s representing our country in an internationally
followed sport which will bring great prestige to us should he win crossed your minds?”

Harry was surprised that Archie was standing up for him; he really didn’t care what people
said, if they wanted to sneer at him and call him a traitor, let them talk. After all, it really
didn’t mean much to him, especially when he received his ever increasing bank
statements monthly.

He had continued with trying to open Slytherin’s diary by trying random passwords, each
more ludicrous then the last, yet nothing seemed to work. That didn’t mean he would stop
trying, for he knew its contents would be well worth the frustration he was feeling.

Archie had seen him on a few occasions hissing at the book with the serpent head lock on
it, and though he had no idea what it was, Archie wasn’t a Ravenclaw for nothing. He
may have mostly ignored him when he was hissing the passwords, but the fact that he
wasn’t asking questions about it pretty much told Harry that he had a very good idea;
that and the fact that he had told the legend of the Serpent Staff and who else had been
researching it to him.

‘Defence Against the Dark Arts’ was almost as much of a joke as it was last year, however
this year, at least they could understand the professor when he spoke, and at least when
he did, he actually mentioned some dark creatures and where you could find them.
Quirrel was just useless in general, but even though it was a step up, it was painfully
clear to everyone, especially the Ravenclaw females who had been infatuated with him
previously, how much of a fraud he was. Archie took great pleasure in seeing Stephanie
looking sour about a particular class they had with him where he had her act as a
werewolf while he ‘demonstrated’ how he dealt with it. He had wanted to use Harry
initially for the werewolf, but much to Archie’s amusement, as soon as his name was
called, the Quidditch star simply walked out of the class, ignoring the Professor’s shouts.

It’s not like he needed the class anyway, nor any class in their year level save for Runes
or Arithmancy. Archie knew very well that the well dressed teen could literally only attend
those two classes in the whole year and still finish at the top of the year in marks like usual.

“I could do better if I wanted to, probably take number two every year” Archie admitted
“but to do that, I’d have to lock myself up and read as much as you do, and even though I
love reading about Potions, I don’t much like the other classes as much to kill any more of
my free time” he had said to Harry when they were talking about the issue.

All too soon, Halloween arrived and the customary feast that accompanied it. Instead of
avoiding the masses like usual, he figured he’d accompany Archie and his housemates to
get something to eat – after all, training had left him incredibly hungry and the Halloween
feasts were notoriously good.

Harry sat across from Archie and beside Davis as he ate his dinner. The great hall was
decorated for the occasion with floating pumpkin heads, hollowed out to have candles
fitted within; thousands of bats were perched around the hall, most toward the ceiling,
where the velvety, clouded darkness that was the ceiling at the moment hid them
perfectly, as if they were outside. Also, orange, flaming streamers decorated the ceiling
while pumpkins the size of garden sheds were lining the walls. Dumbledore sat in his throne
like chair at the head of the staff table, smiling down at all of the students as they
conversed with each other and enjoyed the feast.

Harry was amused to notice Lockhart chatting with an annoyed looking Vector and a
flustered looking Sprout. Harry chuckled into his pumpkin juice, it seemed that Lockhart’s
‘charm’ didn’t extend to every female witch – there was hope.

Taking a sip from his juice, Harry made a face as he swallowed it.

“What’s the matter?” Archie asked, having noticed Harry’s apparent dislike of the beverage.

“I don’t know how people drink this” he said, motioning to his orange drink “it’s
disgusting” he made another face at it, while taking some mashed potatoes from the
platter between them, he liked the mashed potatoes.

“Where did this come from?” Archie asked “you’ve never complained before…” he
frowned, trying to recall if he ever had “now that I think about it…I only ever see you
drink that muggle drink during the summer…awful taste, if you ask me” he shrugged, as
Harry gaped at him.

“You’re telling me, you prefer this disgusting soup drink to the awesomeness that is Coca
Cola?” Harry asked, aghast “it’s pretty much a thinner pumpkin soup; it hardly even
counts as a beverage!”

“What’s wrong with it?” he asked, defensively, as he took a swig of the orange liquid “no
one’s forcing you to drink it, you know.”

“The only other thing they offer here is water” Harry said with a frown “and you’ve never
even tasted Coke, so I don’t know why you’re calling it awful…”

“Well that’s because you’d…” he noticed people listening into their conversation, so he
chose his words wisely “beat the shit out of me if I ever tried to even take a sip” he defended.

“That’s because it’s my personal stash you would be drinking” he reminded, impressed
that he had the foresight to not mention he would actually curse him with his wand and
not resort to physical violence “we could always go into muggle London if you wanted to
try some, or get some decent food” he said, motioning towards the food around them in
general.

“Now you got something against the food we get here?” Archie frowned “you’re starting
to sound like a woman with all your bitching.”

Harry promised to hex him later for the remark against his masculinity “There’s nothing
wrong with the food in general, just the variety” Harry said “there’s more to food then
mashed potatoes, chicken, peas and what not” he motioned towards the standard meal
constantly placed on platters around them. Though it was Halloween and the meal was
slightly different to a regular dinner at Hogwarts; all that really differed was the kind of
meat served…

“That’s no better then Moony Nights’ menu though” Archie said with a frown as people
watched the two bickering like a married couple.

“We stock what the people want, we’re not going to bulk buy sushi because I have a
random craving” Harry said with a shrug.
“What the hell is sew-shee?” Archie asked with a puzzled frown, testing the foreign word
on his tongue.

“Wow” Harry exclaimed, faux amazement lacing his voice “sheltered, much?”

“Hey douchebag, just because I don’t go around to fancy restaurants and order
overpriced Australian food, doesn’t mean you’re better then me” he said, crossing his
arms over his chest, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“It’s Japanese you moron and you don’t even know what a douchebag is, stop stealing my
insults” Harry said with a smirk while some girls around them were glaring at them for
being so vulgar while most of the guys remained clueless.

“I know what a douchebag is” Archie defended as Harry listened expectantly, this would
be good “it’s something you use to clean your face!” he said, after a few moments of
thought. Harry nearly choked on his food while several people around them boggled at
the brown haired youth.

“I guess it’s possible to use one like that” Harry said with amusement “though, completely
appropriate for you, especially because you seem to have Stephanie’s vagina mostly in
your brain…” Harry ducked under the table to avoid Archie’s attempt to spray him with his
dinner.

“No talking about Stephy’s…privates at the dinner table!” Archie said, pointing his fork at
Harry, apologizing to the disgusted students who he had accidently hit when he spat out
his mashed potatoes.

Harry mentally chuckled at the weird direction their conversation had taken before
turning to Davis, who looked like he wanted to say something to him.

“Hey Davis, you get a replacement yet for the match coming up next week against
Gryffindor?” he asked the new Quidditch captain, being the most appropriate for the job
after he quit and the others graduated.

Roger sighed and ran a hand through his hair “How can you honestly expect me to
replace you Harry?” he said, sounding depressed “we just replaced Ellwood you know,
we’re practically going to be running a rookie chaser team” he said with a sigh.

Harry grinned and thumped him on the back. He didn’t mind Roger, having played
Quidditch with the handsome boy for a few years, he was one of the other Ravenclaws in
his year he wouldn’t completely ignore.

“Yeah mate, you’re not going to be able to outfly the Gryffindor chasers, they’re a real
good team” Harry sympathized.

“And they’re all smoking hot” Archie piped in helpfully as the other boys listening nodded
sagely in agreement.

“And they’re smoking hot” Harry repeated “your only chance of winning with two rookie
chasers is to have Chang get the snitch before Longbottom, which shouldn’t be too hard –
he’s not that great…”

“Yeah, these two kids are alright for rookies, they’d be fairly decent in a few years with
experience” he conceded “but they just don’t have the raw talent Ellwood or you had, it
just makes things hard” he said, rubbing his face as he groaned pitifully.

“Cheer up Davis” Archie said from across the table “Harry’s right, Chang can outfly
Longbottom any day of the week, just have her get the snitch as soon as possible” said
girl, sitting not far from them, was blushing a brilliant shade of crimson at having two of
the better looking boys in her house, one of them being a recent Quidditch superstar,
compliment her flying skills.

“Is ickle Cho embarrassed?” Davis asked, with a teasing tone in his voice as said girl just
tried to sink down under the table as all heads turned to her. Harry chuckled as he took
another –forced – sip of his pumpkin juice.

Suddenly, Dumbledore rose from his chair to make an announcement to the hall. Mere
moments after he rose, the noise created in the large hall by the hundreds of students
talking hushed as he rose his hand to get their attention.

“Our head girl for the year, miss Hawking” Dumbledore said with a smile, as he motioned
to the Gryffindor seventh year who had a pair of stylish spectacles, a freckled face and
light brown hair, she was smiling widely “has put forth a proposal to the staff and I, and
we have accepted. This year, as we seem to have lacked such a function for quite some
time, Hogwarts will be hosting a ball that will only be held for fourth years and above…”
immediately, excited chatter, mixed with pitiful groans filled the hall. Dumbledore waited
patiently for the excited chatter to die down “yes, I’m sure we’re all quite excited” he said
jovially “miss Hawking has informed me to let you all know that the ball will be a formal
event, so dress robes will be required, and will be held on the last evening before the
Christmas holidays” he said with a twitch of his beard as his eyes locked with Harry’s “dates
will be strongly encouraged as a professional band will be hired on the evening to provide
entertainment” Harry didn’t let any emotion show on his face as several of the girls in the
hall squealed and looked to his direction; the urge to reach for his wand and hex the
headmaster was extremely overpowering.

“Now, this wonderful evening is unfortunately coming to an end, so I’ll ask you all to head
back to your common rooms please” he said with that ever present twinkle in his eyes as
the students began to file out of the great hall in excited chatter.

As Harry stood, pointedly ignoring anyone that wanted to so much as start a

conversation with him, he was followed by Archie who kept up with his brisk pace, trying
to hide his smirk, as they headed towards Ravenclaw tower,

As they made their way to the tower, the majority of the students were met with a scene
that completely put the excitement of the upcoming ball out of their minds. Nearly three
hundred students halted in their tracks at the sight that met them. Harry froze as the
words registered finally in his mind:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Hanging below the words from on of the corridors torches was a stiff looking Mrs Norris –
Filch’s demon cat. At the scene of the crime, stood a shocked group of second year
students, namely Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, all of whom
looked to want to be anywhere other then where they were now.

“Enemies of the heir, beware! You’ll be next Mudbloods!” a voice broke the silence that
seemed to have enveloped the entire corridor. Draco Malfoy’s normally pale, cold face
was flushed and gleeful as he looked at the immobile and hanging cat.

Harry frowned and discreetly cast a charm at the tool. It was a minor vanishing charm on
his pants, and given the fact that there was literally over two hundred students crammed
in large corridor, there was no way they could pin it on him. That and probably half the
school wanted to hex him right now anyway.

Malfoy shrieked girlishly as he used his long robes to cover his chicken legs and ran
away, though no one laughed, the situation was too grave.

“What’s going on here? What’s going on?!” came the annoyed shout of Argus Filch as
Harry sighed irritably – this wouldn’t end well. The squib, attracted no doubt by Malfoy’s
yelling, pushed through the crowd and stopped dead at the sight of his cat, his face was
contorted in shock and horror.

“My Cat! Mrs Norris! What’s happened to Mrs Norris?!” he shrieked as his hysterical eyes
zoned in on Longbottom.

“You!” he hollered “You!You’ve murdered my cat! You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll…”

“Argus!” Dumbledore’s stern voice, seemingly devoid of the cheerfulness he had been
expressing earlier, called out to the enraged caretaker. Dumbledore swept passed the
man and immediately unhooked Mrs Norris from the wall and turned to Filch.

“Come with me Argus” he said to the distraught man “you too, mister Longbottom, miss
Granger, mister Weasley.”

Lockhart stepped forward, looking as pompous as ever. Harry wondered if he learned it

from the Malfoys, but he reasoned that Lucius was much better at it.

“My office is closest Headmaster, just upstairs, please feel free…”

“Thank you, Gilderoy” Dumbledore interrupted impatiently as Archie snickered from beside
him; Harry too, couldn’t help but smirk in amusement.

The silent crowd of students parted for the group of professors who had arrived on the
scene as they left, supposedly to Lockhart’s office, to discover what happened; the
three students and Filch following close by.

After Dumbledore had climbed the stairs and gone out of sight, no one saw the need to
stay around any longer, especially now that the writing on the wall had been erased
before Dumbledore left. Avoiding the large puddle of water that seemed to be coming
from the girl’s bathroom, Harry and Archie headed to their common room, followed by
their housemates, who were now eagerly talking about the ball again, as if tonight’s
events were a distant memory.

Harry, on his way to the common room, remembered the warning Narcissa Malfoy had
given him and couldn’t help the frown marring his features. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

It had been a week since the announcement of the ball and the heir’s attack on the
caretaker’s cat. More so then ever, groups of girls would be walking around the school,
giggling and squealing in delight as more and more couples were formed and guys asked
girls to be their dates for the ball. Harry thought it was utterly disgusting how they would
waste so much of their time doing practically nothing.
He reasoned that he may be over judgmental as of late, but he was much more annoyed
as of late also. In the seven days since the ball’s announcement, he has had three girls
on average, per day, approach him and ask for him to accompany them to said dance.
More often then not, they were reduced to tears as he simply ignored them or answered
with a flat no.

Sure, it wasn’t vert tactful, and nowhere near nice, but he wasn’t ‘nice’ and the sooner
they learned that, the better.

Archie decided that today would be the day he would ask his long time friend to the ball.
He hadn’t seen anyone making an attempt, and figured she wouldn’t give them the time
of day anyway. Usually, he would have literally jumped her right after the
announcement, but Harry had advised him to give her some space and ask her in about a
week, without making an ass of himself. Harry wasn’t one to give advice on such things,
but he did say that it would be infinitely less annoying of him if he did it this way.

Archie had finally caught up to her after a Potions class only to receive the shock of his
young life.

There was Stephanie, her arms wrapped around seventh year Slytherin Quidditch
captain Marcus Flint. The very same Slytherin who Harry had so eloquently stated ‘must
have been hit in the face with a large wooden plank…several times’, had his tongue
down Stephanie’s throat.

Pulling back from the kiss, Stephanie smirked in his direction with oddly vacant eyes,
motioning for Flint to take a look. Flint turned around from his leaning position against the
wall and mirrored Stephanie’s smirk when he spotted Archie standing not ten meters
from them with an expression mixed between shocked and devastated.

Archie felt his eyes stinging something fierce and prayed to whatever gods were
watching down on him that what he was seeing wasn’t true. It had to be a prank, one
that Harry cruelly set up as a payback for hiding his underwear from him that one day;
but no matter how much he wished for it, he knew Harry would never do such a thing.
When Archie levelled his eyes on Stephanie’s, shocked to feel a single tear escaping, he
noticed her expression flicker between several different emotions ever so subtlety and
quickly before the vacant look in her eyes returned. Flint sneered at him and led her
away by the elbow, leaving Archie alone in the corridor to his thoughts.

If Harry was surprised that Archie had randomly barged into their dorm room, fists
swinging, interrupting his private studying session, with red eyes and tear stains marring
his cheeks, he didn’t show it.

“You told me to wait!” he hollered, swinging once again at Harry, who was trying to piece
together what the hell happened from his friend’s random pieces of information.

“You told me to wait and I did!” he screamed again “imagine my surprise when I see
Flintwith his tongue down Stephanie’sthroat,in the middle of a corridor, in plain sight” he
shrieked at the end, continuing his wild swings at Harry, missing every time, as Harry
dodged around his friend carefully.

Finally, realising what must have happened – much to his disgust – Harry whipped out
his wand and with a backhanded thrust, sent a body-binding hex at Archie.
“Harry, let me go so I can kick the shit out of you!” Archie hollered, trying and failing to
break out of the bindings.

“Odd, wouldn’t you say” Harry began, completely ignoring Archie “that Stephanie,
someone who has rejected much better looking guys in the past, on several occasion
might I add” he added, looking at Archie pointedly “has randomly hooked up with, in my
opinion, either the ugliest guy in the school, or the best looking troll. Not only that, but
Stephanie, someone who shies away from public displays of…well…anything, is seen
snogging said troll in the middle of a corridor?” Archie seemed to be calming down slightly,
as he stop resisting the body bind and begun listening to reason “then there’s the fact
that if you, her best friend, ever even entertained thethought of licking her face,
especially in public, she would not only rip out your tongue, be should would make you lick
your own balls with it once she did so, then proceed to shove it up your ass” both boys
winced at the, admittedly, disgusting mental picture, however true it was.

Archie calmed down, though tears were still randomly falling from his eyes “What are you
trying to say Harry? That I was hallucinating? That I didn’t see what I saw? Because I
assure you, I did…” he said, dropping on Harry’s chair by his desk, much to said boy’s
chagrin, and putting his head in his hands – he did look rather defeated in such a position
though.

“Did you notice anything else that you can tell me, anything at all that seemed a little
off…?” Harry prompted as he lay down on his bed, in a thinking pose.

There was a tense silence between the two, with only the sounds of laughter and chatter
filtering from the common room downstairs ever so slightly disturbing it.

“She had this really vacant look in her eyes” Archie said, the usual jovial tone to his voice
completely vanishing and leaving behind a completely hollow imitation of what it used to be.

Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously at the ceiling “Anything else?” he asked, his temper
getting the best of him if what he assumed to be the case was true.

“Well” Archie began, unsure of himself “there is one other thing, but I’m not sure if it
means anything…” he began “when I looked at her, right in the eye, for an
explanation…she didn’t give one, but her face…like…twisted?” he tried to explain “it’s like
she was constipated for a second before that blank look came across her face again…I
dunno, it just seemed really weird, Flint noticed it too, because he dragged her away real
quick after it…”

Suddenly, Archie got the feeling that the temperature in the room dropped several
degrees. Harry sat up from his lying position on the bed, his head bowed forward as the
light reflected off his lenses, completely blocking his eyes from view and giving him a
sinister look.

“Archades” he began, his voice sending shivers down Archie’s spine “we need to find her
immediately, it sounds like she was put under a very poorImperio curse” he said gravely.
The second the words left Harry’s mouth, Archie’s blood ran cold, flashes of his dying
mother flying through his mind’s eye before a white hot rage consumed him.

“I’ll kill him” he said, and Harry believed him too. There was no emotion in his claim, just a
deadly calm that someone used when stating a fact. Archie rushed over to his trunk and
pulled out four vials, each filled with a different substance, differentiating in colour (one
of which, he noticed, looked just like water). Pocketing the vials, Archie looked to Harry
and walked straight out the door towards his target.

Harry sighed quietly the second he left, cursing whichever god was watching over him for
ruining his perfectly good evening before following his friend out the door, his wand
clutched in his trembling hand. He had known something like this was going to happen, he
had suspected it, yet done nothing! Someone was going to pay dearly for this…

Archie slammed open the doors of the great hall, hoping Stephanie was with the troll
faced bastard at dinner or else he probably wouldn’t be able to find her any time soon.
Luckily for the two Ravenclaw fourth years, and unluckily for Flint, he was seated
casually surrounded by his friends with Stephanie to his right, snuggled closely by his side.

Flint spotted Archie storming in his direction and sent another smirk at him, by now, they
had the attention of everyone in the hall.

“Evening Montague” he said, a grin on his face, which quickly faded when Archie reached
into his pocket and pulled out a vial with a smoky, black substance on the inside before
throwing it at the feet of the Slytherin Quidditch captain and his friends. Harry, from his
point hidden in the shadows, saw a large cloud of smoke rise up from the broken vial,
cloaking those within with a black mist that no one could see through. Gasps of shock
came from most of the students and teachers who had been watching while Dumbledore
rose from his seat and pulled out his wand.

Acting quickly, Harry struck from the shadows, plucking Marcus Flint from his seat, amidst
more gasps, and pointing his wand to his temple in a threatening way.

“Headmaster, unless you want this inbred swine’s puny brain scattered across the great
hall, you will stand down” his voice, deadly serious, called out to the aged wizard who
looked to Harry with no small amount of shock. Who would have thought the usually
apathetic, academic genius would pull such a stunt. Harry eyes Flitwick out of the corner
of his eyes with a betrayed and disgusted look on his face, but he had no time to worry
about what his head of house thought of him in such a situation.

“Mister Potter, unhand Mister Flint right this instant and you may not be expelled”
Dumbledore’s voice called out to the fourteen year old seriously, but Harry didn’t relent.
Archie burst out of the smoke cloud with a thankful not to his friend, placing a paralysed
Stephanie who had a murderous look in her eyes by the wall which they had placed their
backs to.

“Dear Marcus will come to no harm if you make no moves and he is innocent, you may
punish us afterwards accordingly if what we think to be the case here be untrue” Harry
called back.

“Tilt his head back and open his mouth” Archie instructed, as Harry nodded.

Seeing Flint resisted Harry’s iron like grip, Harry leaned in and whispered in a deadly tone
“Open your mouth Marcus, before I slam your head through that brick wall and truly see
how resistant a troll’s skin can be” he hissed. Looking franticly to the headmaster, who
was steadily trying to flank the two Ravenclaws, while Snape went from the opposite
direction, Flint desperately tried to yell for help, but he knew if he opened his mouth, the
crazy looking Ravenclaw before him would drug him with some obscure potion – the boy’s
skills with a cauldron were no secret to anyone.

Harry, growling in frustration, pinched his nose so that he would eventually have no
choice but to open his mouth, which he expectantly did, whereby Archie placed three
drops of the clear substance on the ugly seventh year boy’s tongue.

“Veritaserum?” Harry asked, with an impressed tone. Archie allowed a brief smirk to cross
his features before glaring at Flint, whose eyes had become dilated, signifying that the
effects have taken hold.

Casting a quick Sonorous charm on the Slytherin, so his testimony could be heard, Archie
asked the question loud enough for all to hear.

“What is your name?” the question caught Dumbledore and Snape off guard, who stopped
in their tracks when the realized they had only used a truth serum on the Slytherin,
controlled Ministry substance or not, three drops would not harm him.

“Marcus Octavius Flint” he answered, as if he were in a trance. Harry quickly angled Flint
in a way to use him as a shield from some of his friends who had tried to discreetly get
behind them.

“Do you support ‘You-know-who’ and his beliefs?” the question was a surprise to some,
but not the smarter students and professors in the room, it would prove if the potions was
truly working for no one would willingly admit to that with a room full of witnesses under
truth serum.

“Yes” he answered, though he visibly struggled with the answer, as if he was trying to
fight the effects of the truth serum. Harry cast a meaningful look to Dumbledore who
raised a hand towards Snape, the both of them stopping and allowing them to ask their
questions.

“Did you place the Imperius curse on Stephanie Zabini to force her…” Archie’s voice broke
at this “to force her to become your girlfriend?”

There were gasps of shock throughout the great hall as a result of the question;
Dumbledore had visibly paled at the implications. Flint was sweating hard, trying with all
his might to resist the effects of the potion, but it was no use.

“Y-yes” he ground out, amidst more cried of shock.

“Why?” he asked, a simpler question.

“She refused to be my date for the upcoming ball” he answered, without as much
struggle; he seemed to be resigned to his fate.

“How long has she been under the effects of your Imperious curse?”

“Three days” during the questioning, more gasps were heard with every answer. Snape
was surprised to see Harry giving him his best death glare, lesser men would have peed
their pants at the sight.

“Did you ever…” Archie’s voice broke as tears streaked down his face “did you ever force
yourself on her, did you ever rape her?” his shoulders were shaking, as he tried to
suppress his grief.

“No” he answered “I was waiting for the night of the ball to do that” dead silence met his
proclamation until…
“BASTARD!” Archie yelled, slugging him in the face with all his might before whipping out
his wand.

“Arvada Ked…” Harry fired a quick stunner into Flint’s back to knock him out before tacking
his friend to the ground.

“Harry get off me!” he yelled “you heard what he was going to do! I’ll kill him!” he raged,
as Harry pinned his arms to the ground and Dumbledore rushed to the downed Flint and
bound him with some ropes.

“Stephanie needs you to not be a fucking idiot for once in your life” Harry whispered
harshly in his friend’s ear, which promptly stopped his struggling. Harry got off the grief
stricken boy who immediately rushed over to his lifelong friend and picked her up bridal
style, ignoring the hate filled glare she was sending at him for harming her ‘boyfriend’.

The silence in the hall was finally broken when Dumbledore spoke up, levitating Flint
before him “Mister Potter, Mister Montague, Severus, Filius, will you please follow me to
my office, bring young Miss Zabini with you” he ordered, as the ones mentioned followed.
Archie sent a quick nod to Blaise who looked to be shell shocked.

Dumbledore had the still bound Stephanie sitting in the headmaster’s chair in his office
while softly chanting something under his breath, trying to break Flint’s Imperius curse.
Thanking the stars that the one placed on her was rather weak; it didn’t take long for the
effects to fade.

She blinked rapidly as the curse was lifted before looking around the people in the room,
then, in a quiet voice; she looked to Archie in desperation “It wasn’t a dream?”

Archie looked to Harry, as if asking what he should say. The boy shrugged as Archie
looked back to her and shook his head curtly. Tears welled up in her eyes, though she
tried with all her might to hold them back. It was no use, however, as the floodgates
were already open and she launched herself into Archie’s arms, crying hysterically, and
apologizing over and over.

“Shh, it’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you” he assured her while rubbing circles around
her back, the whole time, glaring angrily at the stupefied Slytherin head of house.
Looking to Harry, Archie lead Stephanie to him “take her for a second, I need to speak
with the headmaster” he instructed.

Harry just looked at him incredulously, then at the crying girl who still had her head buried
in his chest “This is very expensive Acromantula silk” Harry tried to point out, but it was
no use as the, still extremely angry boy, practically shoved her into his arms. Harry pet
her back awkwardly as Archie turned on Snape, and quicker then anyone could follow, he
clocked his hero right in his hooked nose.

“You bastard!” he yelled, as Dumbledore moved to restrain him “you’re telling me you
couldn’t tell one of your snakes was under a shitty imperious curse?!” he raged, as
Dumbledore held him still, allowing the Potions Master time to recover, his nose was now
bleeding freely “I only told Harry a brief description of what I saw from her and he figured
it out! You’re telling me, you, who practically creams over the concept of the dark arts,
couldn’t fucking spot a shitty placed Imperius curse?!”

“Mister Montague, please calm down, Professor Snape has been very busy lately working
with Professor Sprout and preparing some mature Mandrakes for the Mandrake Draught”
he reasoned as Archie shrugged out of the headmaster’s strong grip.

As Harry watched on, he got a good look of the extremely weird office that was guarded
by a stone gargoyle on their way up. The office was mainly clattered with random trinkets
and pieces of parchment, littering the place, with a golden perch placed by the desk –
what the perch was for, Harry could only assume. He had heard the headmaster had a
phoenix, but wasn’t sure if that was true…

“How can Stephanie ever feel safe again in her own house when some random piece of
shit can walk up to her and Imperius her into going to afuckingdance with them?!” he
raged, not caring in the slightest that he was swearing.

“Watch your language Archie” Flitwick warned, and promptly squeaked in fright when the
brown haired boy levelled a killer glare on him.

“We’re going,” he told Harry coldly “I swear, if Flint isn’t in Azkaban by morning, I’ll kill him
myself” he threatened, before taking Stephanie from Harry again and leaving the office
through the only exit.

The silence in the air was almost tangible as the four remaining people in the room eyes
each other, not counting the unconscious Slytherin on the ground.

“You do know the Zabinis will pull Stephanie out of the school and press charges, do you
not?” he suddenly broke the silence. Dumbledore nodded tiredly while Snape’s usually
scowl deepened. Harry eyed his Charm’s professor once, who sent him an apologetic look
before he too turned to leave, leaving the professors to argue amongst themselves.

Archie watched with sadness and Harry dispassionately as Stephanie boarded the
Hogwarts express back to King’s Cross station. The very next day after the incident with
Flint, an infuriated Bianca and Antonio Floo’d to Hogwarts and had ‘words’ with the
headmaster. Flint, being of age, was sentenced to lifetime in Azkaban for attempted
rape and use of an Unforgivable while the Zabinis immediately pulled Stephanie out of
Hogwarts. Apparently Antonio had connections with the board of Beauxbatons Academy
for Magic in France, who easily accepted the girl at their school. Stephanie may not have
excelled in any subject like Harry and Archie, but she consistently ranked in the top five
for every one of her subjects, which was quite impressive for a non-Ravenclaw. With
scores like she had, Beauxbatons welcomed her with open arms, stating that her scores
at Hogwarts were more then adequate to allow a transfer, even if it was a mid year one.

The news, quite obviously, was met with mixed reactions from Archie. He was happy
that he wouldn’t have to worry about her safety again, since the French based school was
an all girls academy, but also depressed that he would be spending even less time with her
(with his job on the summer, he hardly saw her as it was during that time).

“Look at it this way” Harry interrupted the silence as the two stood as Hogsmeade
station, watching the train leave into the horizon “at least you won’t have any
competition for her affections” he said, with a smirk, which caused Archie’s mood to
brighten slightly.

“Unless she meets someone during the summer” Harry reminded the boy, enjoying how he
could so easily bring up his hopes, only to crush them again – it was a cruel game he
enjoyed playing.
“Don’t even joke about that mate” he said, grinning weakly as Harry shrugged.

“She could become a lesbian?” he offered helpfully, dodging instinctively, expecting some
form of retaliation from Archie, however, all he was met with was a dazed teen.

“That’s so hot” he mumbled under his breath. Harry sighed with annoyance, kicking his
friend behind the knee, causing him to buckle under his own weight and stumble onto the
ground.

“Hey, dick!” he yelled indignantly while Harry skipped around him and towards the
carriages taking them back to Hogwarts. Archie would be alright, he hoped.
Chapter: 15
Chapter 16: Gilderoy Lockhart

Harry and Archie sat in silence, the letter they had just received from Stephanie laying
open and read on the small table separating their two chairs in front of the Ravenclaw
common room’s fire place. The former was more silent due to fatigue; training with
England had, impossibly, been increased almost ten fold since their first World Cup
qualifier match was next week. The latter of the two was confused whether he should
feel happy that his very first friend and long time love interest was so happy at her new
school, or upset now that he’ll probably only get to see her two or three times a year,
and only during the summer holidays.

Archie looked forlornly at the several pieces of scented, light blue pieces of parchment
for several moments, before deciding to read through it again:

Dear Archie and Harry,

As much as I’m going to miss Archie’s, admittedly, sometimes humorous antics and the
hours spent mooching off of Harry’s hard work in Arithmancy, I truly believe I have ended
up in a better place, regardless of the obvious lack of company.

As you both already know, I had to pass an equivalence exam before being accepted in
Beauxbatons, because instead of seven years of schooling like Hogwarts, we have only
six years of schooling until we sit our graduation exams. Obviously, given that, the
curriculum is taught differently and at different times, and as you may imagine, they are
currently ahead of the level our class was ‘supposed’ to be at, making me a little behind, but
I’ll catch up. Not only that, the compulsory subject list and the elective list are quite
different compared to Hogwarts, and I find myself impressed by the selection. Our
compulsory subject list includes a Defence class where swordsmanship as well as curses
and jinxes are taught, Charms, Transfiguration (which are both pretty much the same),
History and a class resembling a combination of Potions and Herbology (I don’t know why
they didn’t just do that at Hogwarts – it makes sense).

As for our electives, they seem to be more geared in preparing us for the real world as
much as possible, as well as catering to some hobbies. Subjects like Political and Legal
Studies, Business Management, Accounting, Performance Arts, Music, and Ancient Runes
are popular choices while we also have Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, Astronomy,
Self-defence are some of the less popular. I know what you’re probably both thinking,
‘Why in Merlin’s name is a class called ‘Self-defence’ considered an unpopular class?’ the
answer is simple, yet embarrassingly infuriating. As the class revolves around learning to
physically defend yourself and building up your fitness, the rich and posh who often
attend this school see it as beneath them and slave work – which is probably why I chose
to take it as one of my electives as well as Arithmancy, Political and Legal studies,
Business Management and Accounting. An odd selection, admittedly, but after going
through what I did during Hogwarts, one’s priorities seem to be altered slightly.

Also, the palace (which is what the school is referred to instead of ‘castle’) looks like
something out of the renaissance period, and it’s quite beautiful. Instead of a hall to eat
in, we have dining chambers with these beautifully elegant high-back chairs for each of
us and expensive looking cutlery. Actually, when I was first given a tour of the palace, I
immediately thought Harry must have bought all his room’s furniture from the Institute –
it wouldn’t surprise me you know, they say the craftsmanship on our furniture is
unsurpassed and quite expensive…

Instead of houses, we are all randomly assigned to our classes based on our timetables
and selected classes, which is sort of similar as people who have similar tastes in subjects
are usually paired with you in classes.

Also, no matter which year level you are in, you get assigned a two bedroom dorm room
to share with one other girl. The rooms are just beautiful with massive wardrobes,
enchanted mirrors, and a beautiful bathroom with smallJacuzzis as well as the usual!
Archie, stop thinking perverted thoughts. . .

Archie snorted somewhat sombrely as he re-read that part, conveniently ignoring the
flush that had spread over his features at the thought of Stephanie and another beautiful
girl sharing a small Jacuzzi. . .

My dorm mate’s name is Fleur Delacour; she’s a Veela and one of the most beautiful girls
I’ve seen! She keeps telling me that I’m plenty beautiful myself, but I just can’t help but
feel inferior around her, is that the natural aura Veela exude to other women? Can you
tell me Harry? It’s really quite annoying sometimes. . .

She’s one of the best students in the school, despite her year level. She’s the best dueller
in the school and her swordsmanship is rivalled by none. It’s quite amusing how she’s
gathered her own fan-club that she completely ignores, or tries to at least. The other girls
in the school call her the ‘ice queen’ because her ignoring them all has given her an image
as such, despite how nice she is when you get to know her. In that regard, I think she’s
just like Harry, except, when you get to know her, she’s actually nice and not a bastard (ha-ha).

Oh, and Harry, I don’t know if you’ll be disturbed by this, but somehow, pictures of you in
just your underwear leaked to the media and many (and by many I mean most) of the
girls here have huge pinups of you in them on their walls at night. Perhaps you should
find out how such pictures were leaked?

Archie chuckled nervously and applied another dose of the anti-swelling tonic he brewed to
his lip, for the fat lip that Harry had given him when he read that part of the letter – it was
still worth it in his opinion – which hurt like a bitch, he mentally noted that he should try to
avoid being punched by a professional chaser in the future.

Also, once a month, fourth years and above are allowed to go into the nearest magical
town (Celestial Point) to shop and hang out with friends. This also gives us an opportunity
to mingle with the boys from Beauxbatons’ boy’s campus and party with them should you
want to. Our curfew on these nights is one o’clock which is pretty cool. You can imagine
the kinds of stories you hear though about these nights, I don’t think I’ll be going for a while.

I’ll talk to you soon, I don’t think I’ll be able to see you guys during Christmas because I
need to take some remedial classes for my electives during the break and summer next year.

With love,

Stephanie

“It’s pretty awesome that she’s learning self-defence and how to use a sword, better
then what we can boast about” Archie grumbled, not sure how to feel about not being
able to see Stephanie for so long. It felt like a vice was gripping at his heart and closing
ever so slowly, he didn’t like it at all.

“Speak for yourself, I’ve learnt swordsmanship from Remus when I was growing up” he
answered tiredly as he sipped at the precious little amount of coke he was able to sneak
into Hogwarts via Lizzy, Remus’ house-elf.

Archie just stared at him, mouth agape for a few moments “And when were you going to
tell me this? And, no offence or anything, but isn’t that something purebloods really know
about? How did Remus teach you?”

Harry shrugged, as he looked into the fire, ignoring the chatter around them from the
other students “It’s not really something that comes up in a conversation, I am probably a
little out of practise though” he explained “and Remus didn’t teach me all that much, I just
read the basics out of a book and he let me pretty much make mince meat out of him” he
joked, chuckling a little at the memory.

“So you’re telling me you’ve practised pretty much everything a good little pureblood
should learn?” he asked with amusement.

He shrugged “Being the last Potter kind of forces me to do these things out of tradition,
dancing came kind of easily though due to my Animagus form” he said quietly. He didn’t
need his fan girls knowing he could dance or anyone knowing he was an Animagus.

The two lapsed in silence once again; only for it to be broken by a third year boy
approaching them timidly, ready to dive for cover should Harry try to bite his head off.

“Excuse me, um, Mister Potter sir” he began, Harry chanced a glance at Archie, who
seemed to be greatly amused “um, the guys and I were wondering who England would be
playing next week in the qualifiers?” he asked nervously, his newfound nervousness
having magically appeared at the beginning of the year whenever he addressed Harry.

“Burkina Faso” he answered gruffly, too tired to start any arguments or bite anyone’s head off.

“How do you…” he didn’t get to finish the question as a glare from Harry shut him up real
quick. The action caused Harry’s old team mate to laugh as he plopped down beside the
duo in the vacant couch.

“No need to be so bitchy Potter” Roger said with a grin, as Harry turned his glare to the
handsome boy, who didn’t seem to notice or care “I heard they have a really good team
this year, you guys confident?” he asked, suddenly sounding serious. Harry sighed and
rubbed his eyes tiredly from behind his lenses, if anyone else but Roger or his old team
mates had asked, he probably would have castrated them, but they had played together
for long enough to earn at least some insight to his career, since they helped him get there.

“They rely on their chasers too much, which is usually not so bad, but our chaser team
just outclasses them and our seekers are evenly matched, it’ll be a long and high scoring
game” he predicted, ignoring his grinning ex-team mate who was scribbling down Harry’s
prediction, probably to place a bet on the game.

“What about you lot? You have Gryffindor later don’t you?” Archie asked, as he stretched
in his chair and looked out at the morning sun peeking over the mountains surrounding
Hogwarts through Ravenclaw tower’s huge windows.
“Yeah” he answered enthusiastically “Cho had a real good practise session last night, I
think she’ll demolish Longbottom” he said with a grin.

“Think?” asked Harry with amusement as he spotted the Asian girl sitting on the other end
of the common room talking to her friends “whatever” he got up from his chair with a lot of
effort “let me go and get my Potions homework and we’ll go to breakfast, where’s yours Archie

“On my desk under my Potions books” he answered automatically as Harry climbed the
stairs to their dorm room. In their room, Harry ignored Anthony Silvers who was lying on
his bed reading this month’s edition of ‘Playwizard’ with an obvious tent in his pants. The
way the boys in his room passed around those magazines and ‘used’ them so freely was
kind of disturbing to the Quidditch star; he conveniently got disappeared when such
instances occurred though.

Harry was surprised when he found Archie’s assignment to be far shorter then usual.
Wondering if his friend had just forgot to finish his homework; he was surprised to see a
perfectly completed essay, one that would match his own standards that answered every
question and nothing more.

Archie usually liked to suck up to the Potions professor by adding in completely

unnecessary information to his assignments that would show off his knowledge, and it
worked, for the most part, as Snape never singled him out to release his frustrations on in
class. Harry could only assume that his hero worshipping of the man had all but ended
with what happened to Stephanie. . .

Figuring that he, Archie and Cedric would probably be heading to the Quidditch pitch
after breakfast, Harry grabbed their scarves and donned some leather gloves and a thick
coat for the cold weather before heading back downstairs and to the great hall, Archie
following beside him in silence.

Harry, Archie and Cedric were making their way to the Quidditch pitch, the latter of the
two talking animatedly while Harry spotted something that caused him to smirk.
“Guys, can you wait for a second?” he asked, the two boys looked at him with confusion,
and a little apprehension due to his smirk “I have a bet to cash in on” he elaborated as
he made his way towards the strolling Minerva McGonagall dressed in a dark red set of
robes and a Gryffindor scarf.

“It’s a wonderful morning for Quidditch, wouldn’t you agree professor?” Harry asked
innocently, falling in stride with the glaring professor.

“Potter, surly you can’t expect me to keep up my end. . .”

“I most definitely can” he interrupted, causing the elder woman’s eyes to narrow.

“If you’d let me finish, you would know that it would be. . .”

“I agree, quite improper, you probably shouldn’t have made that bet” Harry interrupted
the steadily angering woman beside him.

“Now see here Potter, I think it fair you release me from such a. . .”

“I disagree” he interrupted once again and used her inattentiveness to catch her
unawares with his wand. With a few casual flicks, the students surrounding them, mainly
the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, stared in open mouth shock as Harry pocketed his wand
again and placed an arm around the Transfiguration professor’s shoulder in an overly
friendly gesture.

“Why, professor, you look positively smashing” he complimented as the head of

Gryffindor was too shocked to speak a word of protest, for she was now wearing
sapphire coloured robes lined with bronze thread, a Ravenclaw scarf, and an overly large
blue pointer covering her right hand. If the clothing wasn’t bad enough, on her cheeks
were four blue and bronze stripes, two on each cheek, showing her support to the house
of Ravens.

“Potter, reverse what you have done this. . .” she began with a shriek.

“I don’t think so professor, you see, we had an agreement, and I do believe that had
you won our bet, I’d be holed away right now grading your Transfiguration assignments”
he reasoned, as if talking to an infant who had their toy taken away “now why don’t you
sit with Archades, Cedric and I and enjoy the game, hmm?”

Seeing that she had no way out of this, she devised a plan to make this the last time
she’d be humiliated like this.

“I propose another bet!” she countered, as Harry actually let her speak this time “Should
Gryffindor win this match, not only will I be off the hook and never have to wear these
ridiculous colours again, but you will have to wear Gryffindor colours to every Quidditch
game you attend for the rest of your time at Hogwarts, and not only that, should we win,
you’ll have to go to the upcoming ball with Angelina Johnson!”

Harry looked at her with amusement “Is that all?” he asked sarcastically “Did dear
Angelina put you up to this? No matter, but should Ravenclaw win, not only will you have
to wear Ravenclaw colours to every Quidditch game for my remaining tenure at
Hogwarts, but you will exempt me from all homework assignments from your class – you
know full well I don’t need them anyway – and give me a permanent waiver to access the
Restricted section of the Library whenever I choose to, signed by yourself of course; do
we have an accord?”

McGonagall faltered slightly at his demands, and while they weren’t overly demanding,
considering she had to wear the Ravenclaw colours anyway, the waiver may be hard to
get considering she would have to fabricate an actual reason for it. On the plus side
though, should Angelina hear what was riding on their victory, she would definitely make
sure to win! It wasn’t like they could lose anyway, Ravenclaw were fielding rookies and
they lost Potter and Ellwood!

“We do” she went to shake his hand, but Harry pulled back last second “having second
thoughts Potter? Or mayhap you aren’t so confident in your dancing skills, I could teach
you, you know” she said, with a tight lipped grin.

“Not at all, professor, I am merely adding a stipulation to our bet” he informed her “Once
this match is over, no further bets may be made to back out of the terms required of both
of us and you must wear the Ravenclaw colours to this one regardless.”

Albeit reluctantly, McGonagall nodded and the two shook hands as a blue light flashed,
sealing the deal. Wizarding bets were very much like magical vows in terms of sticking to
the terms, however, where you would lose your magic or life should you break a vow,
you’d probably only lose galleons when Gringotts was informed of you breaking the terms
of the bet; and the magic the flared when their hands shook was a sign that Gringotts
already knew of the bets existence.

“Would you care to sit with us then Professor, I’m sure it will be a delightful game” Harry
offered with a smirk, only to be turned down by the professor who scowled at him and
walked away towards the Gryffindor stands, intent on showing her support by at least
sitting with her Lions, even if she were wearing these ridiculous clothes.

“Mate, what the hell just happened?!” Archie said in an awed voice “and why in Merlin’s
name is McGonagall wearing Ravenclaw colours?” he immediately followed up.

Harry proceeded to tell Cedric and Archie the story of how Harry had made his original
bet with McGonagall last year as they made their way up to the Ravenclaw stand.

Archie and Cedric continued to chat about girls, Quidditch and everything in between
while Harry silently gazed out around the stadium, waiting for the teams to arrive. Harry
noticed, much to his delight, the Gryffindors looking to their head of house with looks of
betrayal, anger and confusion while the woman herself was glaring at him from her
position beside the commentary box.

Suddenly, roars from the Gryffindor stand could be heard as the scarlet robed students
walked out onto the pitch, Longbottom himself sporting a brand-new ‘Nimbus 2001’
racing broom. It didn’t matter what broom he had, even if Cho only had a ‘Comet 260’,
ever since miraculously getting a starting position for the Gryffindor team, he hadn’t
shown very much promise at all, Malfoy probably had more skill than him while Cedric was
the best seeker at Hogwarts by far.

“…arry, Harry, Harry!” his head snapped in Archie’s direction when he realized his name
was being called.

“What?” he asked, suddenly annoyed that he was ripped from his thoughts.

“You were spacing out, what’s up?” he asked his friend, Cedric seemed to be eyeing Cho
more then normal now that his conversation with Archie had ended, the girl was currently
circling the pitch keeping an eye out for the Snitch while occasionally making dives to
disrupt the Gryffindor chasers and intercept passes.

“Thinking what I’m going to do with my waiver” he grinned while Archie frowned.

“Is that all you ever think about? Books? Can’t you get a girlfriend or something? I’ll only
ever have one girlfriend and that isn’t happening any time soon, so I need to live
vicariously through you!” Archie all but pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

“You do know that the restricted section has books you’d be hard pressed to find
elsewhere, don’t you?” Harry asked “does ‘Moste Potente Potions’ ring a bell?”

Archie’s eyes lit up at the mentioning of the book that held some of the most useful and
powerful potions in existence “Moste Potente Potions, you say?”

Harry mirrored his grin “I do” he said “and so much more. Hogwarts may finally prove to
be something other then a waste of my time if I can find some more books on battle
charms, transfiguration and ancient runic languages. . .”

“Ancient Runic Languages?” Archie asked with confusion “When have you ever shown an
interest in that?”
“I’ve always shown an interest, it’s just that its next to impossible to find valuable texts
on the subject” Harry clarified “people like to keep information like that close to their
chests, rather annoying if you ask me, but I’d imagine they’d have a wealth of knowledge
on the subject in the restricted section” he said, his grin going wider when Roger Davis
intercepted the Gryffindor chasers’ play and scored a quick goal.

“NICE ONE DAVIS!” Archie cheered “I get that, but why do you want to learn about it?”

Harry looked over to Archie after he finished applauding “Whatever it is that will cure my
mother will not be local or easy to find by any means” he began “and Aesculapius’ Serpent
Staff won’t be sitting in some museum, or conveniently enough in the hands of a bad
poker playing Goblin either; It’s a treasure people would give their lives for.”

Archie looked at Harry with amusement “Preaching much?” he joked “you had me at
curing your mother, mate” he said, grinning at his friend.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, frowning while his eyes expertly followed the
snitch he had spotted not long ago.

“You don’t honestly think I’d let you go on this obviously perilous adventure alone, do
you?” he asked, grinning at the surprised Harry “you won’t be rid of me that easily, besides,
I still owe you for saving me from that Vorpala.”

Harry didn’t respond, but by the small smile gracing his features, Archie didn’t think he
needed to.

“Hey, what’s up with that bludger?” Cedric asked with confusion from beside them,
oblivious to their conversation “it looks like its following Longbottom!”

Harry merely smirked at Longbottom’s obvious predicament. It looked like someone had
cursed that bludger to follow him around, because no matter how much he tried to fly
away from it, it would just keep following him.

“Oh my gosh! That thing could kill him at the speeds it’s travelling at!” some girl shouted
from behind the trio. Harry merely looked to Archie and grinned.

“You think we’re that lucky?”

Archie frowned at his friend’s cruel sense of humour couldn’t help the small smirk tugging
at the corner of his lips “I doubt the Headmaster would let anything bad happen to him”
he reasoned “right?” he asked, again when no one responded to his comment, now
sounding less assured.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night” Harry answered while secretly enjoying the Chosen
One’s plight “Cho’s already caught the Snitch when no one was paying attention, I believe
I’ve won the bet.”

Harry looked over to the Gryffindor stands to see a fuming McGonagall glaring heatedly at
him, her clothing making her stand out in the sea of red. With a single, over-dramatic,
Lockhart like bow, he left the stands and headed back toward the castle early to avoid
the masses.

Archie sat in the Ravenclaw common room, finishing up his Charms assignment while
waiting for Harry to return from wherever he had disappeared to after the match.
He didn’t have to wait long as the door to Ravenclaw tower swung open, allowing Harry
entrance holding a small slip of paper, ignoring the stares and finger pointed he naturally
garnered no matter where he went these days from his fellow housemates.

“Voila” Harry snapped the waiver, signed with McGonagall’s signature in his face before
yanking it away so Archie couldn’t snatch it out of his hands “she wasn’t pleased, let me
tell you” Harry joked.

“Where were you? The match ended hours ago, it can’t have taken that long to get the
waiver” Archie asked, trying not to make a big show of eyeing the slip of paper that
Harry began to pocket.

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I went for my run while no one would bother me and all”
Harry informed. Not all of his new team’s Quidditch training was done with the England
team, the coach made sure of that, instructing him to keep fit by going for daily ten
kilometre run.

“Is that what that smell is?” Archie asked, wrinkling his nose with distaste “I still don’t see
why that’s necessary for Quidditch players, and how in Merlin’s name did you run with
those clothes on? You look like you’re about to go out on a date!”

“First, you know how much stamina it takes to continuously fly around on a broom and
actually pass and shoot the Quaffle, so stop asking” he said, glaring at his friend for
saying that he stank – it wasn’t that bad – “and I transfigured my clothes while I ran” he
informed the boy, while pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance, Archie asked so
many stupid questions sometimes!

“Oh, right” he said, sounding rightfully embarrassed “you shouldn’t have left the game so
soon though, I’m sure you would have enjoyed the show” Archie said with a grin.

“What happened?”

“Longbottom fell off his broom and broke his arm” he said with barely contained mirth.

“Is that all? I was expecting him to break his coccyx or something” Harry muttered,
obvious disappointment in his voice.

“Harry, mate, that’s not all” Archie began, his grin threatening to split his face in half
“after he fell, all the professors went rushing out to see if he was okay, Lockhart being the
first one on the scene. . .”

Suddenly, Harry’s interest was piqued “This should be funny” he said in anticipation.

“I couldn’t hear what was said, but Longbottom looked scared of the twit, and rightfully
so, because he waves his wand a few times andvanishes the bones from his arm!”

Harry snorted in amusement, looking around the room and noticing, much to his
annoyance, a good majority of the girls eavesdropping on their conversation “at least
they weren’t broken anymore. . .”

“Yeah” Archie agreed, his voice broken with chuckles “now he has to take a skele-grow
potion, not the most pleasant method of regrowing bones, I can assure you.”
“Speaking from experience?” Harry asked, with a raised brow.

Archie winced in phantom pain while rubbing his groin “I broke my pelvis when I was
younger and playing with Stephanie, she was so fast back then. . .” he trailed off,
suddenly all the humour showing through his features vanishing when he remembered his
love interest.

“I’m knackered” Harry announced with a yawn, breaking the awkward silence “I’m gonna
go take a shower and go to bed, see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine, want to start ransacking the restricted section tomorrow?” Archie asked with
a grin as Harry nodded absently.

“Yeah, sure, whatever” he answered, glaring at his friend. One thing he definitely didn’t
want happening was any Ravenclaw, other than the two of them, knowing he had
unlimited access to the restricted section of the library.

Suddenly, images of little Charley being mobbed by hundreds of people for his golden
ticket to the ever quirky Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory flooded his mind, as he
suppressed a shiver. He’d have to speak to Archie about keeping a tight lip about the
proverbial golden ticket in his pocket.

“Remind me again why we’re sneaking into the restricted section when you are well within
your rights to be in there?” Archie asked as he and Harry walked towards the library in
silence, hidden by a pair of well performed silencing charms to cover the sounds of their
footsteps and disillusionment charms to help them blend into their surroundings.
“I told you I don’t want everyone else knowing about this, I get enough attention
already” Harry whispered to his friend, making sure no one was around to hear a voice
coming from nowhere.

“I still think it’s stupid, but whatever” Archie shrugged as the two made their way over
to Madam Pince, the librarian who guarded her domain with an almost ferocious determination.

“Madam Pince, this is Harry Potter, I have a waiver to go into the restricted section”
Harry whispered to her from right in front of her – it was a testament to his skill with the
charm that she hadn’t noticed him until he spoke.

Pince let out a quiet gasp of shock at hearing a disembodied voice coming from so close to
her, but inspected the waiver just the same before squinting at the empty space before her.

“I can barely see an outline of your figures, your work I take it, Mister Potter?” she
asked, peering at them through her large lenses.

“Hey, why do you assume it was him and not me?” Archie argued, sounding rather miffed.

“Ah, Archades Montague, I’d recognize that idiotic voice everywhere” she drawled as
Archie huffed.

“You’reso not coming to my birthday party anymore” he said, as he crossed his arms over
his chest, though the effect was lost on the librarian as they were still quite invisible.

“Ignore him, it’s how I stay sane” Harry quipped “if you hear any mysterious noises from
the restricted section, or see any books floating out of there, you can rest assured
knowing that its just us” Harry assured, not wanting the vindictive librarian drawing
attention to them because he borrowed some rare books.

“As long as you check them out with me first before taking them, do as you wish Mister
Potter” she said quietly with a small smile. She always liked the quiet and studious child
ever since he had asked her about the different sections of the library during his first visit here.

“Thank you” he acknowledged, as the two padded over to the restricted section, ignoring
the physical barriers set up and stepping right in.

It seemed they weren’t the only ones visiting though as a seventh year Hufflepuff
student looked to be searching through the wards section of the restricted selection -
probably for his NEWTS. Seventh years could quite easily get temporary waiver for their
research assignments, or any thesis they chose to write for their honours or masters in a
subject, just by requesting it from the relevant professor, though it was quite rare.

Mainly because all the literature required to pass your NEWT exams, to ministry
satisfaction, were easily accessible in the regular section of the library. It was only the
truly determined or brilliant that made their way over here into this section to expand
their knowledge. A Thousand years of books deemed too advanced for school children
lay sorted in these shelves, and Harry couldn’t wait to read through them.

“Over here Harry, look, it’s the Potions section!” Archie whispered excitedly while
dragging Harry by the elbow over to several rows of books “Most Potente Potions,
Unstable Concoctions, Battle-worthy Elixirs, To Heal or not to Heal, there’s so much here!”

Harry shook his head at his friend’s enthusiasm before releasing himself so he could go and
look through the hundreds of books on offer himself. He rather doubted he would find
anything related to the Serpent Staff, or anything on healing spells or potions that could
help his mother in here, mainly because if they existed, he was sure Saint Mungo’s would
have requested the book long ago. Instead, he busied himself on the numerous books
detailing ancient runic languages and their uses in magic.

Archie strolled over to Harry with an armful of texts to find him engrossed in a thick and
worn looking tome whose title he couldn’t read.

“Having fun then?” Archie asked cheerfully, dumping the five books he was planning on
borrowing on the cart which held Harry’s ridiculously oversized pile.

Harry made a noncommittal sound of agreement as he continued to read “Did you know
the Ancient Egyptians created the basis of the Fidelius charm using runic magic based off
their Hieroglyphs?”

Archie just looked at Harry for a few moments, processing that information bit by bit
“Wait a second” he finally caught on “couldn’t that mean that they hid the majority of their
cities and pyramids under the granddaddy of the Fidelius charm?”

Harry looked to his friend, slightly impressed, that he was able to catch his point so
quickly “See for yourself” Harry said as he flipped to the appropriate page “this is a map
of Ancient Egypt and its surrounding uncharted lands” he explained, shoving the book in
Archie’s face.

Archie would be the first to admit that he wasn’t very good at Geography, or even
remotely adequate, but he definitely understood what he was seeing.
“It’s big…” he stated, rather matter-of-factly.

“Too big” Harry agreed as Archie continued to inspect the map with a frown.

“That’s where Libya and Sudan are supposed to be, right?” he asked, drawing a line with
his finger to cut across Egypt’s land, where its borders were known to be today.

“Indeed” Harry agreed “now unless twenty percent of Egypt’s landmass disappeared off
the face of the earth over the last several thousand years, I think it would be safe to say
that anything you see on that map, that isn’t on today’s one, is under their Fidelius
charm” he pointed out.

Archie looked at the map for a little while longer, recognizing some places from today’s
map and not recognizing others for the same reason, before snapping the book closed.

“What good does this do us anyway?” Archie asked, as he handed the book to Harry “If it
is under the Fidelius charm, I highly doubt anyone would be alive today that could tell us
the secret of its location, so it’s useless – for all it matters, the missing land may as well
have disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Perhaps” Harry agreed, as he pocketed the book, he had a feeling that map would come
in handy in the future.

“Are we done? It’s nearly lunch time and we’re not the kind of people that can disappear
for a whole day without anybody noticing” he pointed out “as a matter of fact, I’m
surprised your fan club haven’t tracked us down to ask you to the ball again” he had do
dodge a cuff to the head from Harry as the two reapplied their ‘sneaking’ charms and
went to see Madam Pince to check their books out.

“Oh come on Harry!” Archie practically begged.

“No.”

“Why do you mean, ‘No’? Are you saying you wouldn’t benefit from this?” he countered.

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know who’s going to be teaching it, it could be Professor Flitwick” he
reasoned “aren’t you the one always saying to respect him because he was a duelling
champion?”

Harry hesitated only for a moment before schooling his features “Doesn’t matter, I have
an appointment in Burkina Faso tomorrow” he reminded his friend of his Quidditch game.

“But with Slytherin’s monster running around and petrifying people, surly you could use
the practise!” he tried to persuade his friend with pointless facts.

“Yes, I’m sure ‘Slytherin’s monster’ is a great duellist” he responded dryly “and we don’t
even know if there is such a thing, stop basing your actions around rumours” he scolded
“that’s very Gryffindor of you.”

Archie sighed in frustration, when Harry didn’t want to do something, it was almost
impossible to get him to.

“Look, can you just come with me for an hour? If you don’t like it, I promise that we’ll
leave, okay?” Archie asked in a resigned voice, Harry could be so difficult sometimes!

Harry sighed in frustration and deposited Slytherin’s diary in his trunk while placing several
complicated locking charms on it – the password still eluded him “Fine, but if I don’t like it or
if I get accosted by idiots, I’m leaving” he warned. Archie grinned widely and grabbed him
by the elbow, as if to drag him out.

Harry planted his feet into the ground and resisted easily, it was then that Archie noticed
his arms tense and his biceps protrude from his arm, when the hell did that happen? In
fact, taking notice of his whole arm, he could see multiple muscles he had only heard of
in name protruding from his arm, Quidditch practise definitely agreed with him.

“I am not going out there dressed like this” Harry said “I wouldn’t make it to the door”
Harry deadpanned, it was then that Archie noticed that Harry was only dressed in some
really short football shorts and a singlet. Snickering at the mental image of a pack of
she-vultures attacking Harry on his way to the door, he waited for him to get dressed
before they made their way to the great hall.

“Wow, I didn’t expect to see so many people” Archie mumbled to Harry, as the two stood
at the back of the hall and out of sight.
“What did you expect with everyone being as worried as they are?” Harry replied “idiots
spreading unfounded rumours about Slytherin’s monster aren’t helping any either.”

“Oh come on Harry, you have to admit that there’s something going around and
petrifying people” Archie reasoned.

“I know that, you know that, the Professors know that, and so do most of the older
students” Harry stated “but it’s the younger ones that would listen to whatever is told to
them, and rumours are their main source of information.”

“So, what…?” Archie asked “you saying they should lie to them?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying” Harry answered “what good does it do to have young
children think a monster is on the loose, let alone a monster being controlled by one of
the students?”

“I guess you have a point” Archie agreed a little reluctantly. The doors beside them
swung open allowing in Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley. Being
that Harry and Archie were under a disillusionment charm, they stood right beside them
without even noticing them, continuing their obviously secret conversation in an
environment that they must have thought was secure with all the background noise
going around.

“I’m telling you, it wasn’t there” Hermione hissed in a whispered voice.

“How are we supposed to get a confession out of Malfoy without the Polyjuice potion?!”
Ron countered, his face reddening in anger “you’re supposed to be the smart one, think
of something!”

“Honestly Ronald, the Polyjuice potion is an extremely advanced potion, I only think I’d be
able to brew it and that’s if I had the time” she argued “that’s more than most would say,
I doubt anyone else in Hogwarts could brew it!”

Archie snorted in amusement, which immediately caught the attention of the three
second years.

“Did you guys hear that?” Longbottom asked quietly “I thought I heard someone. . .”

“Honestly Nev, there’s no one here” Ron sighed “Well, without Most Potente Potions, how
else are we going to find out who’s petrifying people?”

“You know, Slytherin’s monster is probably a snake of some kind, and the only person in
the school that can speak to snakes is Harry Potter. . .” Neville said darkly. This time,
Harry was the one who snorted in amusement, though it was much quieter then Archie
and thus, unheard of by the three second years.

“Harry wouldn’t do something like that” Hermione argued, her face flushed in anger.

“Since when are you on a first name basis with ‘Harry’?” Ron asked snidely, copying her
tone used when saying the Quidditch star’s name “That bloody git is gonna cost England
the World Cup; I don’t see why no one notices it. . .”

“Yeah, he’s not even that good at Quidditch” Harry instinctively covered Archie’s mouth,
or what he hoped was his mouth, knowing he would have given their position away had
he been allowed to speak.

“Well. . .I’m not really on a first name basis with Harry Potter. . .it’s just. . .never mind!”
she sounded extremely flustered “the fact of the matter is, just because he’s a
Parselmouth and you assume Slytherin’s monster is a snake, doesn’t make him guilty, honestly

“I agree with Nev, it’s awfully fishy. . .”

“Hey, who do you think is hosting this club anyway?” Neville asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t care, as long as it’s not. . .”

There was a collective groan amongst several people when Gilderoy Lockhart appeared
from behind a curtain, teeth shining in the light and his cloak billowing extravagantly. He
was accompanied by none other then Severus Snape, honestly, Harry didn’t know why
he even agreed to come.

Raising his arm so the students would stop talking, he called “Gather round all, can you
all see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!”

Harry sent an invisible death glare to his friend, and though Archie couldn’t see Harry, he
knew that he was being glared at.

“Now, thanks to our excellent Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, I’ve been allowed to
start up this little Duelling Club, just in case you need to defend yourselves just like I
have so many times in my life – for more details, see my published works.”

“And now, let me introduce to you all, Professor Snape, who has sportingly agreed to be
my assistant for this little demonstration” he smiled widely “he tells me he knows a little bit
about duelling himself and has agreed to assist me this evening, now never fear children,
you’ll still have your Potions professor when I’m through with him!”

Harry and Archie figured it was safe to drop their disillusionment charms now that the trio
of Gryffindors had joined the crowd of students beside the joined tables acting as a
duelling platform.

“You know, I don’t think it would be so bad if they finished each other off” Archie mused
“you feeling lucky Harry?”

Harry looked to Archie with surprise “Not fond of ‘Potions Master Snape’ anymore then?”
he asked as a dark look crossed Archie’s face.

“No” was his simple, uncharacteristic answer.

“Fair enough, but Lockhart really doesn’t stand a chance unfortunately, I say we leave
and spare ourselves a headache. . .”

“And miss Lockhart getting his ass handed to him?” Archie asked incredulously “I think
not!” Harry had to agree with that logic, so he stuck around for that little bit longer.

Harry was actually eager to see what would happen with the look Snape was giving
Lockhart; it was obvious the man didn’t want to be here.

Lockhart performed an over-the-top bow, his smile never leaving his face while Snape
just jerked his head stiffly.

“As you can see, the both of us have performed the standard pre-duel customs and
have our wands in the accepted combative position” he announced to the sixty or so
students in the hall “on the count of three, we’ll cast our first spells – neither of us will be
aiming to kill, of course, we can’t have Hogwarts without a Potions professor after all” he
said with a dazzling smile.

“This will be quick and painful” Harry mumbled as Lockhart did the count down.

“Expelliarmus!” Snape cried, swinging his wand from over his shoulder. He had seen
Nymphadora throw better spells than that one; he idly wondered how she was doing.

The Slytherins and majority of the males in the room cheered when Lockhart was sent
flying from the duelling platform and against the floor with a sickening crunch.

“Think he’s dead?” Archie asked, a little too hopefully.

“We’re not that lucky” Harry mumbled, and sure enough, Lockhart got straight back up.

“Excellent!” Lockhart cheered, as he rose on unsteady feet “Professor Snape has just
shown us an example of a well performed disarming charm – as you can see, I’ve seemed
to have misplaced my wand. . .ah, thank you miss Brown” he thanked with a large smile
as the Gryffindor girl flushed in embarrassment at having his attention glued to her “Yes,
an excellent idea to show them that, but if you don’t mind me saying, it was painfully
obvious what you were about to do, I could have easily blocked it if I wanted to, but I
thought it’d be best to let these younglings see the effects of your spell for themselves!”

Snape looked like he wanted to shove a rusty pole up Lockhart’s ass, and the man
seemed to notice it too, as he yelled out “Enough demonstrating! I’m going to come
around and place you in pairs, Professor Snape, if you’ll assist me?”

Harry and Archie immediately paired up before the professors paired them with others.
Snape obviously paired the ‘Golden Trio’ against his little snakes, but they were mostly
ignored by Harry and Archie who were in their own little world.

“Go on, show me what spells you know” Harry urged his friend, who, knowing how good
he was with a wand, didn’t hesitate in firing off some spells.

“Stupefy!” he said, and Harry was momentarily caught off guard when he had said it fairly
quietly and under his breath, however, all it took was a simple shield charm on his behalf
to block the spell.

“Been practising silent casting then?” Harry asked his friend, who was grinning sheepishly.

“I see you do it all the time when no one’s paying attention, I figured it’d be a useful trick
to have” he confessed.

“It is” Harry lectured “it gives you the element of surprise against someone who isn’t a
Legilimens, because they will rarely know what spell you’re casting; for example, you could
be firing a string of non-lethal hexes at your opponent, who would lazily block or parry
them away thinking less and less of you, whereby you immediately follow it up with
something like a killing curse.”

Archie was about to lecture him on giving him tactics on using unforgivables until he
remembered it was Harry that stopped him from casting one himself not long ago.

“Of course, those spells are an incredible waste of your magical reserves, especially when
there’s infinitely easier ways to disable someone” he said with a grin as he flicked his
wand. Archie nervously turned his head to see a metal spike the size of a baseball bat
aimed at his stomach “wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re downright scary sometimes, you know that?” Archie said with a nervous gulp.
Harry shrugged and vanished the spike.

“I guess, just keep practising the silent casting, it’ll pay off in the end” Archie nodded in
thanks for the advice, but the two were ripped out of their little conversation when there
was a commotion at the duelling stage.

“Dear, dear, I think I better teach you all how to block unfriendly spells” he said, flustered
in the middle of the hall “let’s have a volunteer pair come up for a demonstration. . .”

“I nominate Malfoy and Longbottom” Snape’s cool voice resounded out in the hall.

“Yes, excellent idea, now if you two would come up to the stage?” he said with a smile.
Malfoy strutted up while listening to something Snape was whispering in his ear, whole
Longbottom looked to Lockhart in anger when he did something that made his wand fly out
of his own hand.

“Scared, Longbottom?” Malfoy taunted the Boy-who-lived.

“As if Malfoy” Longbottom countered.

“Just do what I did my boy” Lockhart encouraged.

“What? Drop my wand?” Neville replied grumpily, but Lockhart wasn’t listening.

“Okay, there – two – one – go!” he shouted.

Malfoy quickly raised his wand and bellowed his spell “Serpensortia!”

Much to the surprise of everyone of everyone in the hall, a large black snake exploded
out of Malfoy’s wand and landed heavily between the two of them, ready to strike at the
Gryffindor.

“Now, that’s a useful spell” Harry complimented, already formulating ideas to utilizing such
a spell with his Parseltongue ability.

“Stand back Longbottom” Snape drawled as he drew his wand, enjoying the look of terror
on the boy’s pudgy features “I’ll get rid of it. . .”

“Allow me!” Lockhart tried to enter the scene valiantly, but his actions proved to be
anything but. Brandishing his wand, he shot a spell at the snake which launched it ten feet
in the air before it landed on the ground with a meaty thump. Enraged, the snake exposed
its fangs and prepared to strike out at the closest target, which happened to be a
Hufflepuff second-year.

Before Harry or Snape could react, Longbottom yelled out to the snake in a hissing
language only Harry could understand.

“Stop! Leave him alone!” he ordered, and miraculously, only to Longbottom at least, the
snake stopped its attack. Gasps were heard throughout the hall when Neville was heard
speaking the snake language while Harry smirked in amusement.

“Oh this just gets better and better” Archie said to him, as the two vacated the premises
before someone decided to pin the blame on the only other Parselmouth in the room.

Archie sat alone in the Ravenclaw common room waiting for Harry to come back to the
castle. He had received a Floo call earlier from his friend saying that he would be hanging
around the stadium for a few more hours, participating in the mandatory press
conferences and doing whatever else was required of the team before arriving back at
the castle via the Floo at the Three Broomsticks.
Suddenly, the common room door swung open silently, allowing in an exhausted looking
Harry carrying a duffle bag over his shoulder and a two litre bottle of coke in his hand.
Aside from what he was carrying, he looked like he had just arrived off the set of a
modelling shoot, especially with the way his hair was done and the clothes he was wearing.

“Did you know ‘Coca-Cola’ has franchises in the magical world too?” Harry immediately
asked, with a grin “I just signed on to be their new poster-boy until the world-cup is over”
he said, as he sat down heavily on the seat beside him.

“Poster-boy?” Archie asked incredulously “I never figured you for the type . . . at all” he
confessed “As a matter of fact I was expecting you to kill the first person that asked.”

“Kill someone working for Coca-cola? Are you mad?” Harry asked incredulously, as he
transfigured two cushions into glasses for himself and Archie before pouring a glass for
the both of them “especially when they have given me five, forever lasting, and
constantly cooled bottles of their most popular drinks?” he asked as he set the bottle down.

Archie watched with awe as the liquid in the bottle seemed to rise and refill as if it hadn’t
even been opened “Not to mention that it never goes flat and the shit load of money
they gave me.”
“Of course” Archie replied with a grin as he eyed the glass wearily. The glare Harry was
giving him was enough incentive though to just take a sip of the drink, so he wouldn’t
insult him or anything. . .

“You know” Archie said, not quite used to the acidic taste “that’s not half bad” he said
appreciatively “and you have a never ending supply now, so you can’t bitch if I have
some when I like.”

Harry didn’t respond, opting to just clink glasses with his friend.

“So, are you going to tell me how the game went?” Archie asked, suddenly remembering
why his friend had left in the first place “People are going to be talking about it all day
tomorrow regardless of the result, I’d imagine. . .”

“Yeah, we won” Harry informed him “six hundred and seventy to four hundred and forty,
they caught the snitch.”

“Wow . . . are keepers that bad in the international league, or are you guys just that
good?” he asked, impressed with the unusually high score.

“We’re pretty good, I think” Harry agreed “but the keepers aren’t bad, believe me, if
they were, the scores for both teams would be in the thousands, I swear, Diakite must
have saved fifty of my shots, he’s definitely the best keeper I’ve ever seen” Harry
complimented the Burkinabé keeper.

“But you guys scored sixty seven goals” Archie pointed out incredulously.

“Yeah, but we had one hundred and seventy five on-target shots, you need to look at all
the stats before making opinions” Harry pointed out breathlessly, he still seemed rather tired.

“How’s the difference between school Quidditch and International?” he asked with a smirk
while taking another sip of the coke, he was starting to see why Harry liked it so much.

“It’s on a whole other level” Harry said, sounding as close to excited and energetic as
he’d ever been “obviously, every player on each team is the best of the best the country
has to offer, and they prove it every second of the game – I was literally dodging a
bludger every 10 seconds, it was insane.”

Archie chuckled “At least you guys won, hopefully we can make it to the finals this time”
Harry nodded, hoping his one World Cup campaign would yield him the trophy, he was
rather competitive when it came to sports.

“Oh, guess what?” Harry began “After our win, this new broom manufacturer approached
the our management and presented to them their new prototype broom that’s to be
released this summer” he began, noticing he had Archie’s attention, his friend may not like
playing Quidditch, but he certainly liked flying “they call it the Firebolt, and they offered
one to each of the players if we used it in all our games” he continued to explain, as
Archie looked confused.

“I highly doubt they’d do that, the Nimbus 2001 is the fastest broom on the market and
all the national teams are using them. . .”

“Is it?” Harry countered “The Firebolt goes from naught to one fifty in ten seconds and
has practically full manoeuvrability no matter what speed you’re going at, it will be best
and fastest broom on the market and because the company is English, they want us to get
first dibs on it” he grinned at Archie’s stupefied expression.

“Naught to one fifty in ten seconds?” he questioned in disbelief “that’s ridiculous; the
Nimbus 2001 doesn’t even get that high so quickly!”

“I know, here, check it out” he said with a grin as he reached into his bag and pulled out
the broomstick that, by all right, should never fit in such a small bag – he must have
charmed it to be bottomless.

Harry dropped the broom in mid-air and Archie was about to scream at him, but to his
surprise, it just hovered in the air at waist height.

“This beast sports a streamlined, super-fine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard
polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number” Harry began to explain as
Archie looked on in awe. The body of the broom seemed to be made of rich mahogany
and the twigs were kept bundled by a ring of gold which had two foot rests connected to
it. There also seemed to be a spongy grip to players wouldn’t get sore hands from
gripping too hard for long periods of time. “Each individually selected birch twig in the
broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving it unsurpassable balance and
pinpoint precision – if you hadn’t noticed, I’m pretty much reciting the sale’s pitch they
gave to us, but it left an impression, I tell you.”

Archie just nodded, afraid to touch it less he break it. It looked almost ethereal as it
hovered in mid air with the fire’s light shining off of it.

“How much are these things anyway?” Archie asked, as he ran his hand over the broom
and admired the craftsmanship.

“Price on request, they said, and don’t worry about breaking it, check this out” Harry said
with a grin, acting like a child on Christmas morning. He grabbed the broom out of mid-air
and, to Archie’s horror, swung it with all his strength against the wall as if he were trying to
kill something – surely the broom would break!

To his surprise though, other then a loud thwack, there was no blemishes in the slightest
on the broom, let alone it having broken “it has an unbreakable charm on it, you can’t
break it” he said with a grin. Both boys heard footsteps coming from above and groaned
when they saw the shocked expression of Roger Davis, as he eyed his broom.

“What in Merlin’s name is that?” Roger asked, probably having been woken up by the
sound of the broom making contact with the wall.

Archie took the lead this time, explaining the broom’s specifications this time, instead of
Harry, and marvelling at how stupid he too must have looked when he was admiring it.
They got to talking about the broom, which then lead to England’s victory.

“Well done mate!” Roger congratulated “we might just have a chance this time, who are
you all playing next?” he asked eagerly.

Harry groaned “Don’t remind me” he sighed “we’re playing against Brazil, then after that,
Czech Republic, the team who scores the most out of the three matches played moves on
to the next round, so, we’re in the lead by a fair bit at the moment” he explained “Czech
Republic beat Brazil, but only just at three hundred to two eighty, so we’re in the lead by fair.”
Archie winced in sympathy when he heard they’d be playing Brazil “I feel for you mate” he
said “Brazil have the nastiest beaters in the world, which makes them the best too, you’re
going to be dodging a lot more bludgers next game. . .”

Harry nodded with a sigh “Coach upped our training regiment again, it’s freaking crazy,
but the brooms should help us avoid them easily enough – so, did anything happen while
I was gone?”

Archie and Roger chuckled “You mean other than Neville Longbottom being hailed as a
dark lord bent on killing Muggleborns? Nothing really. . .” he chuckled while Harry grinned.

“I’m knackered, tell me about it while we head to bed” he said, as he carefully placed his
broom, and even more carefully placed his infinite supply of coke back in his duffle bag.

That bottle was priceless!

Harry wasn’t exactly in a good mood today. He had arrived home from King’s Cross for
Christmas holidays knowing that Remus wouldn’t be able to pick him up because he said
he had prior arrangements.
That wasn’t the problem though; the problem was that he had to bear with all the
congratulatory praise and notoriety that came with being a now successfulQuidditch star.
His more then stellar performance being printed in the Daily Prophet the day after their
victory sparked this behaviour, and though he didn’t like it one bit, he at least got an
infinite supply of coke to go with it.

What really made him pissed though was Lockhart trying to give him ‘pointers’ while trying
to be seen conversing with him as much as possible in public. It really took every bit of
will power he had to not punch him in the face – best smile from ‘Witch Weekly’ or not.

Now though, all he wanted to do was greet Remus, who he hadn’t seen in a while, and
get some much needed rest before training started anew tomorrow.

Walking through Knockturn Alley, the once dark and uninhabited strip off Diagon Alley,
which now sported many more stores and an increase in population all because of the
inn, he made his way into Moony Nights and into Remus’s room.

In the future, he would remember to knock before entering.

He honestly didn’t expect to have to, ever, to be honest. . .

. . .but what was happening before him was evidence to the contrary, for a girl who he
immediately recognized as Nymphadora Tonks was looking at him in shock and
embarrassment while straddling Remus’s lap, who was sitting on the single comfortable
couch in his room with his back to the door. Harry just thanked whatever gods that were
watching over him that he hadn’t arrived a minute later, as Nymphadora was already in
just her skirt and bra while Remus was topless. However, her swollen lips and the lipstick
marks on Remus’s face as he turned to look at who had barged into his room were
enough evidence for him to realize what was happening.

Harry closed his eyes and walked back out the door, counted to ten, and re-entered, this
time to see Tonks and Remus seated on opposite sides of the room drinking a cup of tea each.

“Nymphadora” he greeted cheerfully to the flushed woman, who seemed to be so

embarrassed, her hair changed to a dark red colour “a pleasure to see you, clothed I
might add” he nodded, as she only flushed further, though mostly due to anger at being
referred to by her first name “Remus, busy as always I see” he greeted.

“Hey Lucky, I guess I have some explaining to do?” he chuckled weakly, his lips still slightly
swollen, no doubt, from trying to swallow Tonks’s tongue a moment ago.

“Let’s just forget this ever happened and you leave a tie, or sock, or whatever you
crazy youngsters do these days to alert those outside to what is happening inside, eh?”
he frowned “why do I get the feeling this situation should be happening the other way around?”

“Because it probably should” Tonks agreed with a nervous smile.

“Ah, Nymphadora, how rude of you to greet Remus so emphatically without even popping
in to say hi first, well, waste not want not, I’ll let you two get back to whatever it is you
were doing” he left the room immediately after that, promising himself to find his
Pensieve and deposit that horrid memory; he never wanted to imagine Remus in the
process of, or having sex, ever again in the future. . .

Though the view of Nymphadora wasn’t all that bad. . .

“Well, that completely ruined the mood. . .”

“Yep” Remus answered truthfully, while sipping his tea.

“Merlin he’s such a smart ass” she said while glaring at the door.

“That he is” Remus agreed.

“You think we should get him back? I don’t like people using my first name . . . and he does
it all the time!”

“I wouldn’t recommend it; I haven’t been able to catch him off guard since he started Hogwarts.

The two sat in silence for a few more moments until Tonks broke it again “So . . . are we
continuing what we started before? I’m still really horny” she commented with a shy grin,
being as blunt as ever.

“Yes you are” Remus grinned into his cup and launched himself at Tonks.

Later that day, when Harry went down to check and see if he’d have to run the bar that
night, he sighed when he saw Remus’s tie hanging from the door to his room.
Chapter: 16
Chapter 17: Into the Chamber

Nymphadora Tonks was feeling slightly uncomfortable, and awkward, especially with the
situation she currently found herself in. How else would someone expect her to feel when
a friend of yours walked in on you making out with someone, practically half-naked, and
with someone who was for all intents and purposes, a father figure to him?

It’s not that she regretted her little make-out session with Remus, far from it actually. In
her opinion, the man was hot, fun and incredibly manly, unlike the other boys her age
who would seek to court her. Then there was the fact that she found his reluctance to
try anything with her incredibly cute.

That being said and all, it wasn’t like they were seeing each other. She had come in for a
celebratory drink after finishing her last, and quite brutal, training exercise under
‘Mad-Eye Moody’ that qualified her as an Auror. Who could blame her for celebrating in
such a manner, with a man she had secretly had the hots for?

Still, she felt compelled to talk to Harry about it. It didn’t really make sense to her
initially, because from what she knew of him, he probably wouldn’t care much anyway; if
anything, he was probably more pissed with the fact that he had to make his way home
from a long ass train ride by himself because his guardian was making out with a sexy chick.

The reason she was feeling slightly nervous and uncomfortable about this ‘talk’ though
was not because of what the talk would be about, as surprising and weird as that is. The
last time she had sat down and just chatted with him, he was just little twelve year old
Harry, a slightly too smart and talented wizard who helped her with her Auror training.

Now he was freaking super Potter, chaser extraordinaire, Quidditch prodigy and English
hero. Moody was quite the fan of the sport, so she would often find herself listening to
Quidditch talk-shows held over the Wizarding Wireless Network, ones that would often
talk about Harry and his supposed skills after being signed on by the English national team
of all things!

Imagine her surprise when they started singing his praises and claiming the cup as theirs
after only one game? Granted, it was a game that practically guaranteed them a spot in
the next round, but what surprised her was when they started saying that his tactical
mind, superior flying skills, numerous assists and excellent goal scoring capabilities made
him one of the best chasers in the world!

He was still only fourteen!

It wasn’t all that unrealistic, after all, the Bulgarians had a seeker that was around the
same age who was heralded as the best in the world too. . .

. . . But this was Harry! Not Victor-bloody-Krum!

Realizing how stupid her argument sounded, she just steeled herself and knocked three
times on the door she knew lead to Harry’s room.
“Come in” she heard him call, though his voice sounded a little strained.

Curious as to why his voice sounded so strenuous, she slowly turned the old fashioned
door handle and entered slowly, only for her jaw to literally hit the floor when she saw
what was within.

She may have been in his room in the past, she couldn’t really remember, but she knew
for a fact that even if she did, it certainly didn’t look like this. Being a modern girl, she was
firmly entrenched in her beliefs that boys, especially the younger ones, had no sense of
fashion, taste or style. She had to reassess those beliefs when she constantly saw the
way Harry dressed, it was obvious he knew what he was doing and took great care in
doing it – but this was a little overboard.

Harry’s room looked more like a small apartment now with thirteen foot ceilings, instead of
a regular teenage boy’s messy bedroom. There was no way a room this size could fit in the
small space in which it had been originally built, so he must have charmed it to be this
large; she would have immediately thought Remus did this for him, if it had been anyone
else, but this was Harry she was talking about.

It wasn’t the size that impressed her though, anyone who knew how to could increase the
size of a bedroom, it wasn’t hard; it was the way in which he decorated his room. Tonks
literally felt like she walked through a door at Moony Nights and stepped out of one into
Buckingham Palace.

A dark, hard wood floor covered in an elaborate rug and Victorian style tables and chairs
spread out around a miraculous fireplace is what initially caught her eye. The table had a
few open books strewn on it, one of which looked to be locked with an emblem of a snake,
but it was clear he used this room to simply relax by the fire when he wanted to read.
The room had two doors, one leading to the right and the other to the left, with the
fireplace being directly in front of her.

Not knowing where Harry was, she randomly decided to go right and through the hard,
mahogany door to see if he was in there, only to gasp when she saw what was inside. A
desk made out of the same wood the doors and furniture were was at the head of the
long, and somewhat narrow room, with chairs on either side of it. The desk itself was
placed in a way that the user of it would have their back facing an enchanted window –
she thought enchanted because she hardly doubted Harry could get a room in Moony
Nights with a view of a huge mountain range surrounding a dark and beautiful forest. The
part of the room which definitely let her know that it was Harry’s though was that
practically the entire left wall was one large bookshelf, the only thing stopping the whole
wall from being one were rather large columns rising from the floor to the ceiling every
two meters, each with a lamp on them.

Amazingly enough, the bookshelves were full with different texts that Harry must have
collected over the years. Randomly taking one, she saw that it was on Battle
Transfiguration and immediately put it back, that subject seemed right up Harry’s alley.
She silently vowed to never buy him a book for a present again; she doubted he hadn’t
already purchased whatever she could ever hope to get him from the book stores
surrounding the inn.

Leaving his study as she felt like she was intruding on something private, she opted to go
through the other door and straight into his bedroom, where she paused and gaped at
the scene before her.
His room was in the same style as the rest of his little condo, don’t get her wrong, it was
what Harry was doing in said room that surprised her. A set of double doors, obviously
leading to his wardrobe, were opened and Harry was hanging onto a black, metal bar with
his chin touching his chest while performing pull ups with ease.

She recognized the exercise; it was standard practise for Aurors in the academy to
perform five of these daily along with other exercises assigned to them by the Academy
teachers or mentors. She also acknowledged that she could hardly do five without her
arms feeling like lead and collapsing immediately after. In the time she had just been
standing there and gawking at him, he must have done at least twenty and he didn’t look
like he was stopping soon.

“Are you going to talk?” Harry asked between grunts “or are you just gonna stand there
all day? I’m not going to be done for a while” she could tell he was grinning, even though
he was looking down while doing the pull-ups.

“How . . . what . . . never mind; what in Merlin’s name are you doing? This is your
Christmas break! You should be resting, or bludging around, or perving on girls or something!”

Harry gave a chuckle before dropping to the ground with unnatural grace and standing in
the doorway while seemingly fiddling with something where you’d expect a light switch to
be. All of a sudden, a small rectangular section of the floor began moving, very much in
the same way a treadmill would, she noticed, as Harry began to jog to keep up with it.

“Whoever tells you Quidditch is an easy sport is a moron” Harry said with a grin as he
continued to jog at a pace Tonks knew she couldn’t keep up with if she was on the
makeshift treadmill “This isn’t even close to what coach makes me do for training, I’m just
trying to stay in shape.”

Tonks wanted to scream to the world about the injustice of it all, until she realized that he
was playing Quidditch and probably getting paid a ridiculous amount to do so, as if any
other dedicated teenager wouldn’t give their life to be in the same position.

“Can you at least put some more clothes on?” Tonks asked with a frown, while Harry
looked to her with that condescending grin she hated “it’s kind of awkward . . .”

“Nymphadora, I’ve seen you half-naked too, it’s only fair you’re given the same
consideration” he quipped, while Tonks flushed at the memory and the use of her name.
Purely on reflex, she reached for her wand and sent a stinging hex right at his torso.

She barely had enough time to see the grin on his face when he did a backwards flip, the
motion aided by the treadmill, to avoid it.

“That’s not a bad idea, keep doing it, it should help with my flexibility” he informed her with
a grin as Tonks was still gaping at Harry and her wand respectively. He . . . just moved so fast!

“Anyway, was there anything you wanted?” he asked, suddenly sounded bored and
completely full of wind. If this is what Quidditch did for your body, maybe she should
invest in a daily work-out regiment similar to Harry’s . . . pfft, as if!

“It’s actually about what you saw earlier. . .” she trailed off, not sure how to proceed.

“You mean Remus finally getting some?” he asked with a grin while Tonks sent another
curse at him, one he simply side-stepped.
“He wasn’t getting what you think he was!” she screeched, suddenly embarrassed beyond
belief that she was having his conversation with a fourteen year old.

“Shame,” Harry joked “is that why you’re here? Do you need ‘the talk’? I’m not all that
experienced, myself . . . but I’ve heard stories . . .” he let out a bark of laughter and
dodged the next curse she sent his way.

“Will you stop being a smart ass for more than three seconds and let me talk?” she
shouted at him “this is hard enough as it is!”

“Fine, fine, though by all rights, I should be able to talk to you as I wish as you are so
rudely interrupting my ‘me time’” he joked.

“Like you interrupted ours?” she shot right back.

“Touché,” he relented “so, what did you want to talk about?”

“Can you stop running and put a top on, it’s distracting!”

“Fine, woman,” he sighed and stopped the magic that was operating his treadmill and
brought a towel from the wardrobe to wipe the sweat off his body “this better?” he asked,
after reappearing with a singlet on to cover his chest.

“Much” she sounded relieved.

“Now what is it that’s of such import to you that you saw fit to disrupt my workout?” he
asked dryly as he towelled his face.

“We need to talk about what you saw earlier” Tonks said uneasily as Harry arched a brow.

“Do we?” he asked “as I said, I’m no expert on the subject, but I thought there was a ‘no
kiss and tell’ rule or some such?”

“Will you shut up? You know what I’m talking about . . .” she looked really nervous and
self conscious, so Harry let up on her and motioned for her to follow him.

Tonks followed Harry through his small apartment like room back into the main room with
the fireplace. To her confusion, Harry stopped in front of a portrait and lifted it off the
wall. Imagine her surprise when he revealed a safe. When he was about to put in the
combination for the lock, he turned to glare at her over his shoulder.

“You mind?”

She sighed, though she couldn’t help but grin at his antics. No matter how annoying he
could be, he always had that effect on her. The safe opened with an audible click and
Harry reached in to pull out . . . a bottle of coke.

“You cannot be serious. . .” she voiced her disbelief.

Taking out two pint sized glasses, he took a seat in one of the wingback chairs and
poured himself a large glass.

“You want some?” he asked her, Tonks looked at the bottle with disgust.
“That has to be as hot as coffee by now, no thanks” she declined.

“Is that right?” he screwed the lid back on the bottle and left it in the middle of the table
while placing his glass on a coaster. Tonks watched in awe as practically the third of the
bottle Harry just emptied refilled itself before her eyes.

“There’s just no way. . .” she muttered under her breath, ignoring Harry’s twinkling eyes.
She reached over and touched the bottle, only to find that it was ice cold!

“There’s just no fucking way!” she exclaimed, only increasing Harry’s amusement.

“I know, awesome right?” he grinned as she poured herself a glass, only to watch in
fascination as the bottle refilled itself.

“One of the perks of being an international Quidditch star, you get cool shit like that” he
pointed to the bottle.

“I never took you for the poster-boy type, and I never knew ‘Coca-Cola’ had a Wizarding
franchise . . .”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” he frowned “anyway, you wanted to speak, so
speak” he urged her.

Tonks forgotten nerves reappeared with a vengeance, as her hair changed through
several different shades of red, Harry had noticed a while ago that this was a sign of her
nervousness “About what you saw earlier . . .” Harry remained silent and let her speak,
really wishing he had his nose buried in a book rather than listening to this.

“It really was nothing . . . but I don’t want it to be nothing . . .” she seemed to be
struggling with her words while frowning in a cute way before speaking them “Remus
made sure to point that out after our make-out session” she flushed when memories of
that flooded back to the forefront of her mind “and I agreed because I didn’t want to
seem clingy or needy . . . but I really like him, I have for a while now, since Moody began
to bring me here when we were on lunch break.”

Harry wanted to slam his head against the wall, but he liked the walls in his recently
furnished ‘room’ too much to risk damaging them. Why do people keep coming to him with
such problems? First Archie and now Nymphadora, do these idiots really think he’s an
expert? Hadn’t he made it clear to everyone that he wished to avoid such relationships?

“Nymphadora, shut up,” Harry cut off the fumbling woman, who puffed up in indignation,
and a little hurt flashed in her eyes. This, Harry supposed, is what females wanted male
friends for, just to listen, but he was having none of that “The only reason why Remus
told you it meant nothing is because he figured you definitely wouldn’t want anything
long term with him,” seeing as she was about to protest, Harry held up his with two
fingers raised “first, he’s thirty-four years old and you’re, what? Twenty now?” she
nodded her head in the affirmative at his guesstimate “he’s probably thinking you just
wanted a fling and nothing serious with an old-timer like him . . .”

“I don’t think he’s old!” she protested, while Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in
annoyance, something Tonks was smart enough to realize as a sign of his growing agitation.

“It doesn’t matter what you think, unless you prove it to him otherwise, it’s what he
thinks,” he pointed out, and she couldn’t help but find the wisdom in his words “secondly,
have you forgotten his furry little problem?” seeing that she was about to object, he sent
her a solid glare and she shut up real quick.

‘Man that glare is scary. . .’ she silently thought.

“I know you don’t care about it, otherwise you wouldn’t have wanted to make out with him
in the first place – that and you know I’d kick the shit out of you for being a prejudiced
bigot to set you straight . . .”

“Come now Harry, you may have been good back in school, but I’m an Auror now under
the tutelage of Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody himself” she proclaimed proudly.

Before Tonks could understand what the hell was going on, Harry had whipped out his
wand and twirled it above his head before bringing it out in front of him and holding the tip
of it against his opposite palm, as if forcing two polar opposites together.

At first, Tonks was going to laugh at him when nothing happened, but every door save
the one to the room crashed open mere seconds after the spell was cast, allowing
thousands of litres of water through, water that came bearing down on her with a
vengeance. Before she could even think up a way to counter this obviously obscure
spell, the water had already captured her in an impenetrable, spherical prison in mid air.

You think most trained Aurors would be hurting at having been bested by a fourteen year
old so easily, but Tonks was more amazed at the ease in which he cast such a powerful
elemental charm.

All the colour drained from her face though when Harry kept the prison intact by holding
his left palm to it while conjuring a spark of lightning from the tip of his wand and waving
it dangerously close to the sphere, before suddenly both the spark and the water
disappeared into nothingness, allowing Tonks to drop to the floor, unceremoniously,
soaking wet.

“I don’t have time to have you second guessing me,” he said with a glare “that was just
one spell I know that would have killed you, now, where were we? Ah, that’s right, you’re
not a prejudiced bigot anyway, and thus, you don’t care that Remus is a werewolf,” he
restarted anew, as if his little display of amazing spell work had never happened “and he
probably knows you don’t care either, but he does care, because he has this irrational
fear that he could possibly harm anybody he enters in a relationship with during a full
moon – stupid, yes, but you tell him that.”

Tonks was still a little shaken up and soaking wet from the spell, but she understood
what he was saying to her.

“You’re saying that this really is one of those instances where it isn’t me, it’s him?” she
asked incredulously “does he have any idea how stupid that is?”

“I know that, you know that, the entire non-bigoted world knows that, but he doesn’t,”
he said with exasperation “your job is to prove to him that his age and condition don’t
bother you if you’re really serious about this,” he eyed her for a moment before
continuing “you might not want to give it up to easily either, make it hard for him. . .”

“Hey, what are you implying?!” she hollered at him, not liking being called easy at all.
“I call it as I see it Nymphadora,” he said with a grin “you looked really into it earlier is all.”

Before she could give a heated reply, Harry banished her out of his room and chugged
the rest of his coke in one quick scull.

“Man that’s good” he wiped his mouth and went back to his work-out; if the coach found
out he was slacking off, there’d be hell to pay!

He was just heading to his bedroom when something was slipped under his door, a black
envelope with a red wax seal. He recognized it immediately.

“Well, that’s interesting . . .”

Harry had just returned home via the Floo at Moony Nights after a long night of training.
The place was fairly empty, with only a half a dozen or so patrons still in the dining area
with Remus cleaning the glasses at the bar.
“Rough night?” he asked, as Harry plopped down on the bar stool closest to him.

“You get used to it,” he answered “you?”

“Kind of slow, to be honest, people are spending time with their families mostly this time
of the year” he admitted.

“You know, I’m kind of surprised that you’re not the least bit worried about the ‘attacks’
going on at school” Harry pointed out.

Remus shrugged “You can take care of yourself,” he complimented “besides, I have no
real cause to worry, you’re not really Gryffindorish like we were at school - you don’t go
looking for trouble.”

“Yet it seems to always find me” he joked, while Remus chuckled quietly.

“So, you and Nymphadora, huh?” Harry smirked when Remus flushed in embarrassment.

“It was a one time thing,” he defended “she’s cute, yes, but I doubt she’d want anything
serious with me anyway” he shrugged. Harry would have cackled evilly if it wouldn’t make
things so obvious.

“She definitely is cute,” Harry agreed “and fun, energetic, caring. . .”

“I get it Harry. . .”

“. . . a minx, she has a great body, looked like she was a good kisser too. . .”

“Harry. . .” he tried to interrupt with a warning tone.

“. . . She’s got a weird fashion sense, but that just proves she’s adventurous, and let’s
not forget the fact that she’s a virgin. . .”

“I GET IT HARRY!” Remus yelled loudly, his face was flushed crimson in embarrassment as
the remaining occupants of the bar looked over to him.

“Good, because there’s no way you could net a fine catch like that,” he commented
flippantly, while he was laughing on the inside “she must have been drunk the other
night when she made out with you, I mean, she had to be, just look at you. . .”

“What?” he asked angrily “are you implying someone like Dora couldn’t be attracted to me?”

“Of course not, give her enough alcohol and I’m sure she’d even findyou attractive,” he
continued to provoke “no, what I’m saying is that you’ve obviously passed your prime
and couldn’t snag her even if you tried.”

“I’ll have you know that women who come in here are always flirting with me” he
defended proudly.

“Yeah, that’s because they haven’t actually spoken to you yet, I hate to break it to you
Remus, but you’re a boring guy.”

“I am not” he defended vigorously, feeling rather affronted.

“You are so.”

“I am most definitely not!”

“You are so, and you know it!”

“Am not, and I’ll have you know that I haven’t tried to woo a women since I was in school.”

“When was that, the seventeen hundreds? Who says ‘woo’ anymore, honestly?” By now,
according to plan, Remus was getting angry.

“Who are you, to judge other’s social lives?” he countered “If I didn’t know you had the
hots for Jessica Alba, I would have sworn you were a closet gay!”

“Jessica Alba is fairly hot,” he allowed a small, dreamy smile to appear on his face “but I
happen to be good friends with Nymphadora, and I can tell what she thinks about you
already . . .”

“She told you I was boring?!” he asked in a fierce whisper, sounding devastated.

“She didn’t use those words, but there’s only one way to prove her wrong I guess . . .” he
left the sentence hanging in the air.

“Alright, smart ass, you watch,” he promised “I’ll show you who was the real ladies man
amongst the marauders and then you’ll have to eat your own words” he grinned.

Harry just smiled mysteriously and walked away from the bar and up to his room,
wondering when people will start to realize that trying to win against him always ends in failure.

Remus suddenly got a feeling that, no matter what, he could never win against Harry.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t show the little punk who’s boss when it comes to the ladies.

As he had predicted, the team’s training had been upped a bit more with the upcoming
game against Brazil on Valentine’s Day. Harry was certain that his current daily work-out
regimen would have been quite impossible had he started with it at first, but the gradual
build up made the transition easier.
He speculated that the coach may have lowered the entire team’s regimens to account
for him and his joining the team, but he didn’t mind, he was keeping up fine and intended
to give his all, especially if the money he was earning kept coming. He had already more
than doubled the original amount of gold in the Potter’s vaults, but he wasn’t stopping
there, he had plans to increase that very shortly.

“Did you see Stephanie on Christmas?” Harry asked, as he and Archie were bent over a
cauldron in their Potion’s class.

“No,” he sounded disappointed “I spent it with the Zabinis, as you know, but she didn’t
come home – she needs to catch up to her peers and all” he answered with a sombre smile.

“So, Nymphadora has the hots for Remus,” Harry informed him, right when Archie was
about to slice the newt liver; the surprise almost caused him to slip and miss-cut the
ingredient, which would have been a crucial mistake at this point in their brewing “I
caught them making out when I got back from King’s Cross.”

“You waited a month to tell me this, why?” Archie shot back, though he sounded more
interested than angered. He did have a point though; he didn’t know why he had waited
until February to tell him.

“Slipped my mind, I guess” he shrugged as the two continued to brew.

“Hey, your match against Brazil is on Valentine’s Day, yeah?” Archie suddenly asked out of
the blue, after Snape had stalked passed them and nodded at their cauldron. Ever since
the Stephanie incident, Snape had wisely kept to himself and didn’t try to antagonize the
two, which Harry was somewhat thankful for, he was getting to be annoying.

“It is,” he confirmed “speaking of which, do you have any long term Nutrient Potions? I
don’t think I’ll have much time to sit down and eat with all the extra training we have to
do” he explained.

“I don’t,” he answered “but I can brew you some tonight, how much do you need?”

“About two months worth, make it as potent as possible and get me around two months
worth, no point in asking this again in the future” Archie was suspicious at first, knowing
that excessive use of such a strong potion for a long period of time could create an
addiction, thereby causing your body to start rejecting food, but it was for England after all.

The Nutrient Potion was a potion that, depending on the amount ingested and potency of
the dosage, literally gave the body all the fibres and nutrients it needed to survive for a
certain period of time, that was once again, proportional to the dosage – the more you
drank, the longer it lasted.

For that reason, the potion was downright useful for anyone who found themselves
lacking the time to sit down, and eat a meal for short periods of time; a month being the
recommended maximum without actual food.

“I can have them ready by tomorrow morning if you do my transfiguration homework for
me tonight, I have to do that by tomorrow” he answered.

“That’s fine,” Harry confirmed, he didn’t have to do it anyway “I’ll make a copy so you can
read through it yourself though.”

“Awesome, full marks in McGonagall’s class, here I come!” Archie said with a grin – who
says Potions brewing had little uses?
In the week before England’s game against Brazil, the school and the majority of Wizarding
Britain in general was thrown into an uproar.
Slytherin’s monster had petrified three more students, yes, but that was nothing that
couldn’t be reversed. The one incident that practically had the ministry hounding and
pounding at Hogwarts’ gates was the death of a student.

Gryffindor’s Lee Jordan was killed on the second floor, near the girl’s toilets. He was
found dead by none other than Harry Potter, quite the convenience, he had to agree.
Instead of running and screaming in terror, he fired several loud bangs with his wand,
alerting all to magic being performed in the halls, and his location.

The professors and many students arrived, horrified at the scene before them.
Dumbledore had tried to minimize damage, having a lockdown with every student forced to
stay in their common rooms unless escorted by a teacher, but it would do no good.

Hogwarts would inevitably close down if the culprit was not found and dealt with, within
the week, if not sooner.

Harry sat by the fire in the Ravenclaw common room, finally able to think now that the
other students had become wary of him. Why shouldn’t they? Slytherin’s monster was
believed to be some sort of snake, he was a Parseltongue, and he was at the scene of
Lee Jordan’s death first.

“Archades, you usually know these things, how was every victim found? I mean how
exactly?” he asked his friend, who was sitting opposite him by the fire.

“Um” he eloquently began, trying to recall all of the attacks “first was Filch’s cat, she was
hanging by the tail with the writing on the wall and water pooled out all over the ground . .
.” he began, while recalling the scenes of the other attacks “There was that first year
Creevy, who was found petrified with his camera still in his hands . . .”

“Where was the camera?” Harry interrupted.

“Still in his hands, as if he were about to take a picture,” he answered with confusion, not
sure where his friend was going with this “Finch-Fletchley was found petrified along with
the Gryffindor ghost, it looked like the ghost was shielding him from something when they
were found,” he paused to gather his thoughts “then Granger and Clearwater were found
petrified not long after at the same time, both were clutching broken mirrors in their
hands, then finally we have Jordan who was just found dead on the second floor, no
signs of what killed him” he frowned while Harry stared into the fire with silence.

Archie watched several emotions play out on Harry’s face in the moment of silence
between them, some of which looked to be confusion, annoyance, and comprehension.

“Archades, what did you say happened to the spiders Snape uses for ingredients during
our classes?” Harry asked with a guarded voice.

“They all just disappeared,” he said with amazement “either someone was stupid enough
to break the glass and try to steal them, or something else, I dunno” he supplied unhelpfully.

“Did you see the empty container after they disappeared?” Harry pressed, trying hard to
mask his annoyance.
“Yeah, I did, why?” he had been the one to discover their disappearance actually, when
he needed them for a potion they were making during class.

“Where was the broken glass from the container?” he asked, with some urgency.

Archie frowned as he tried to remember “On the outside I think, I remember thinking how
pissed Snape was going to be when he had to clean up all the glass . . .” Archie looked at
his friend in confusion as he randomly just ran up the stairs.

“He must be tired; his game is tomorrow after all . . .”

Meanwhile, Harry was smirking at the regular serpent head lock on Slytherin’s diary before
hissing softly to it.

“You wish you were a Basilisk” the eyes of the serpent glowed a bright green before
opening its jaws and releasing the Parseltongue written pages for Harry to see.

“I need to hurry, I don’t have much time . . .” he mumbled to himself, as he pulled out his
wand, several hundred pieces of paper and his quill.

Harry arrived, more tired than usual, at the great hall after England’s convincing five
hundred to three hundred and forty victory over Brazil, it seemed the news of his victory
spread to the students, for the very second he entered the hall and was recognized, he
was met with loud cheers and applause.
“Harry, mate, something bad is happening; Dumbledore was removed as headmaster . . .”

His worried friend didn’t get to finish his sentence when the great hall’s large doors were
burst opened, allowing in Lucius Malfoy, Cornelius Fudge and a contingent of Aurors.

“Aurors! Arrest that boy!” Fudge ordered, pointing to Harry, to the shock of those in the hall.

Harry raised his arms in a non-threatening way and turned his back to them, facing the
horrified Archie.

“Archades, I need you to listen to me very carefully” the boy’s eyes snapped to his own
and he noticed he had his undivided attention.

“There’s a book, in the place where I keep things hidden, you need to read it and decide
on the appropriate course of action” he spoke to his distraught friend as the Aurors
continued to cross the large hall, wands raised, ready to fire a spell at him should he resist.

“Do you understand?!” he asked urgently, to which the boy could only nod, the horror of
what was happening removing his ability of speech.

“There’s one more thing you need to know . . .” with that, Harry leaned in and hissed
something he didn’t understand in his friend’s ear.

At that very moment, the head Auror kicked Harry hard behind his kneecap, causing him
to drop to the floor, on one knee, in pain.

“Harry James Potter,” Fudge began imperiously, with a smug grin on his face. Harry kept
his features set in stone, not willing to give anything to the pompous idiot “You have
been found guilty of numerous, severe attacks using dark magic on the student
population, one of which resulted, tragically, in the death of one of your peers. You will
be sent to Azkaban for life, murderers like you don’t deserve a trial,” he sneered at him
“Aurors, take him away!”

“Harry, what’s happening?” Archie asked in a hopeless voice, as a set of large iron cuffs
were placed on Harry’s wrists and ankles, a chain holding them together.

“Archades, you’re not an idiot, use your brain and do what I told you to do and everything
will become clear to you” he assured. The Auror holding his chains searched his pockets
and took out his wand, before handing it to the smugly grinning Fudge.

“Come now, we have a cell reserved for you, one that I’m sure you’ll love” he continued to
grin as the Aurors lead Harry out of the stupefied hall, leaving behind a room full of
students and teachers with varying emotions, the most affected of whom were Archie himself.

“Hold on a moment, you just can’t arrest a student without evidence and then refuse his
right to a trial!” McGonagall’s voice boomed out across the hall.

“Actually Minerva,” Malfoy senior answered “you’ll find he can with the backing of the
board of governors, good day” he bid her farewell with his condescending smirk.

Immediately, as soon as the doors were slammed shut, and Harry gone, loud chatter and
whispers broke the silence, steadily increasing in volume as students tried to speak to
each other over the noise.

If anyone was watching Archie, they would see silent tears streaming down his face
while he sported a look that would make you believe he was about to be sick.

“That no good Potter, I knew he was evil, and they had the gall to pin it on me” he heard
Longbottom complain to his friends, as they all gave their own version of agreement.

Without even thinking of the consequences, Archie stormed on right over to the table
and gave the ‘Boy-who-lived’ his best knuckle sandwich, knocking him to the floor with a
busted lip and broken nose.

“You’re trash Longbottom,” his voice sounded out to the hall “no, calling you that is an
insult to your idiot friends; you’re worse than trash. Your parents would be ashamed of
you” he hissed out in his most deadly voice, before storming out of the hall.

The only person who seemed to notice, or care, about Archie’s state of distress was
Cedric, and amidst the elevated chatter and professors rushing to Neville’s aid, he slipped
out of the hall to follow his friend.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Cedric heard Archie’s recognizable voice yell in anguish from

somewhere down the hall ahead of him. It wasn’t too hard to follow the voice either
because it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon.
“THIS IS ENTIRELY MY FAULT! GODAMMIT!” Cedric opened the door to an unused
classroom to see Archie literally kicking the shit out of a random, rather weak in his
opinion, cupboard door, splintering it with every punch or kick.

“Archie, calm down!” Cedric ordered firmly, as the Ravenclaw boy turned to him with
bloodshot eyes.

“CALM DOWN?!” he roared at Cedric with question “HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO CALM
DOWN? HARRY’S IN AZKABAN AND IT’S MY FAULT!”
Cedric slapped Archie hard across the face, drawing a shocked look from the Montague.

“Calm down and tell me what in Merlin’s name you’re talking about!” Cedric ordered.

“Don’t you see?!” Archie asked, “if I hadn’t blabbed to everyone, like a fucking retard,
that Harry was Parselmouth, they would have nobasis to even try and arrest him, IT’S –
ALL – MY – FAULT!”

Cedric completely ignored the faulty logic and slapped Archie again, mainly because it was
fun, but mostly because he had to start thinking straight.

“Will you stop slapping me?!” Archie bellowed while Cedric waited for him to calm down.

“You need to calm down and think, what was it that Harry told you before they took him
away?” Cedric asked “no one could hear him, and I was one of the closest ones . . .”

Archie took several deep, steadying breaths and lowered his chin to his chest as he
thought over exactly what Harry had told him.

“Cedric, follow me, we need to see if something is in Harry’s hiding spot” Archie urged,
pulling his friend by the elbow.

“What hiding place, what are you talking about?!” Cedric tried to ask as he was being led away.

“What most people don’t know about Harry is,” he began, as they turned a corner and
headed towards the Ravenclaw tower “he’s far more advanced than any student in this
school, in fact, he could probably take his OWLs, no fuck the OWLs, he could probably
take his NEWTs and pass them with flying colours,” he informed the shocked Hufflepuff
“yet, given that, what’s one thing you know about Harry to be a constant?”

Cedric only thought for a few moments before answering “Aside from training for
Quidditch, all he does is read and go to classes.”

“Exactly!” Archie answered as he continued to lead Cedric to where the entrance to the
Ravenclaw common-room was “tell me, what would someone spend the majority of their
time reading about at school when there’s practically nothing else he can really learn
from anyway?”

“I don’t know” Cedric answered truthfully “more advanced things?” he tried.

“Exactly,” he answered again “but what you don’t know is just how advanced we’re
talking here,” he continued to explain while puffing from the exertion of running across
the castle “he hasn’t said anything, but I’m fairly sure he’s going to be going for his
mastery in Transfiguration, Charms, and Ancient Runes when he takes his NEWTs . . .”

Cedric suddenly stopped mid step, almost comically pulling Archie back from the
unexpected stop in motion.

“That’s not possible,” Cedric said with absolute certainty “to obtain mastery in any subject
takes years, decades in some cases!” he tried to make Archie see reason “there have
been cases where one or two students in the last thousand years have gotten one
mastery by the time they graduate, but the odds of that are so low, it just doesn’t happen. . .”
Archie resisted the urge to tell his Hufflepuff friend that he himself would be going for his
Potions mastery at the same time “Cedric, Harry was an Animagus by the time he was
six, he achieved a feat of magic most wizards ten times his age at the time couldn’t do,
and you’re telling me he can’t get those masteries?” he asked incredulously “I’ve seen him
transfigure a toothpick into a goldenspear, do you know how many laws of
Transfiguration he broke by doing that?”

Cedric looked to his friend with an incredulous expression on his face “Try all of them? If
what you say is true . . .” he answered quietly, his voice a little squeaky and broken due
to his shock.

“Right, well, back to the point,” he continued “Harry just couldn’t leave the advanced
books he learns all of this from lying around for all to see, especially in our house,” he
explained “the temptation to steal, or pester him about it is too great, and Harry is a very
private person . . . when it suits him best . . .” he finished lamely, recalling the Coke adds.

“So . . .?” Cedric trailed off, wanting Archie to get to the point as they ran passed the
entrance to the Ravenclaw common room and stopped before a statue of a beautiful
woman in an elegant and old looking style of dress and holding an open tome in her hands.

“So, he found a room in the castle where he could study in peace,” he answered with a
grin, and to Cedric’s horror and utmost amusement, Archie slapped the woman’s stony
behind seven times. Just when Cedric was going to call him an idiot for doing something
so inappropriate at a time like this, the statue seemed to come to life, giggling once
girlishly before moving aside and allowing them entrance “welcome, my man, to Harry’s
sanctuary!”

Cedric looked around in awe at the dozens of ancient looking tomes strewn about the
small, candlelit, yet cosy room until his eyes fell on a pedestal that was illuminated by a
conveniently placed lamp with a single book sitting on top of it titled:

The Complete, translated, diary of Salazar Slytherin

“Oh my god, he did it . . .” Archie whispered in awe, while holding the roughly put
together book reverently in his hands. Cedric was in an equal amount of awe as well as
confusion.

“Did what? And why is it a ‘translation’?”

“Last year, Harry won the original diary of Salazar Slytherin from a Goblin during a high
stakes poker game,” he explained “he was highly reluctant to part with it, but as you can
imagine, he was bound by Goblin law to do so. At first, Harry couldn’t open it because it
was password protected, he must have only done so recently . . .” he frowned, as he
opened the first page and pulled out a note within the cover “it has to be translated
because I imagine it was probably in Parseltongue . . .”

Dear Douchebag,

If you’re reading this, then what I have expected to come to pass has already occurred.
Don’t busy your tiny brain on what that’s supposed to mean, just read through the entire
translated diary first, it’s only one year’s worth, but the information within is relevant to
what is happening at Hogwarts currently.

The information within this diary, including the clues I have given only you, should be the
key to my freedom and the completion of my plan.

There is another note at the end of the diary that will only reveal itself when you’ve read
the entire thing once.

Don’t let me down; Azkaban isn’t exactly the nicest place on the planet,

Your Lord and Master

“What the fuck . . .” Cedric exclaimed, allowing a curse word to leave his mouth on this
one occasion.

“That sneaky son of a bitch . . .” Archie muttered under his breath in amazement.

“What? What is it?” Cedric asked, not liking being left out of the loop.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Cedric resisted the urge to palm his face “but if what I suspect is
true, Harry Potter is definitely the most brilliant person I’ve ever known . . .” he looked to
Cedric with a smirk “brilliant in a scary way.”

“What are we going to do now?” he asked, and Archie smiled as his friend proved he was
placed in the house of loyalty and hard-work for a good reason.

“We’re going to read through his diary, and we’re going to find the information within that
will help us prove Harry’s innocence” he instructed as the two took a seat beside each
other on the two seater couch in the room before opening to the first page and beginning
to read.

Harry had his wrist and ankle cuffs removed before being unceremoniously tossed in his
cell, Lucius Malfoy, Cornelius Fudge and two Aurors watching the proceeding the entire
time, the two responsible for this smirking the whole time.
“That’ll be all gents, I need to have words with Potter here” the minister ordered.

“Of course Minister” the Aurors agreed and left the two adults staring at the calmly
kneeling form of Harry Potter before them.

“Awfully calm for someone beginning their life sentence in hell on earth, aren’t you
Potter?” Fudge sneered, while Malfoy continued to smirk.

“It’s a shame really, that you had to make a fool of me,” Malfoy taunted “you were the
best thing that’s happened to English Quidditch in a long time. . .” he sighed dramatically.

“And now you learned what happens when you oppose me and discredit me in such a
public audience” Fudge said imperiously.

“You’re awfully loose-lipped minister, so certain of your victory, are you?” he taunted
right back, intentionally ignoring the angered Malfoy Lord.

“As confident as I can be, swine!” he shouted back, and in one swift movement, he
brought out Harry’s wand and snapped it in two “Now you’re locked up in hell on earth for
the rest of your natural life, naked as the day you were born and without your wand –
you’re finished.”

Using Occlumency to ward off the extremely cold he was feeling, Harry met his stare with
a stony one of his own and said absolutely nothing in response.

“Even if your innocence is proven, which it won’t be, the lack of all food and clothing will
be more than enough to see you dead within the month, I wish you good luck in your next
life where you may learn to respect your betters” Malfoy finished before escorting the
minister out of the prison, leaving Harry behind, unsupervised, in his cell, alone and naked.

“Fools,” he muttered under his breath while collecting the broken pieces of his ‘wand’ and
unscrewing the tip of the handle to reveal a hollow compartment holding a single potion vial
“as if I’d let him lay his disgusting hands on my actual wand” he muttered darkly before
uncorking the vial and emptying its contents into his mouth before throwing the broken
pieces of his wand and the vial out the single window.

Having nothing much else to do, and seeing as his only company was a sleeping and
slightly skeletal looking man in the cell beside him, Harry sat in the far corner of his cell on
his bed (a potato sack) and allowed the warm feeling of the nutrient potion to energize him.

The supposedly ‘sleeping’ man in the cell beside him had actually been awake the entire
time, not much came and left in this section of the prison other than the hellish
Dementors, so naturally, footsteps would rouse him from his slumber. Hearing the name
of the person who had just been thrown in prison and the Minister gloating over it made
his blood boil, if he didn’t reach out to the boy soon, he would surely lose his mind in this place.

“Harry Potter?” a raspy voice called from the cell beside him, the voice echoed of the
stone walls rather well making the usually quiet sound quite loud.

“What of it?” he answered gruffly, deciding to pass the time and do some exercises, the
nutrient potion added with regular exercise would make sure he kept his figure and
fitness, two things he wasn’t willing to part with any time soon.

“Harry James Potter?” the voice questioned again, it sounded more dismayed than
anything, which confused Harry slightly.

Harry leapt up and held onto the bars going across the ceiling of his cage and started to
do some pull-ups “You seem to have me at a disadvantage stranger, you know my name
but I don’t know yours” he grunted while fighting the cold and exercising at the same time.

“My name?” he asked, probably not used to having someone ask his name if his
appearance was any way to judge the amount of time he had spent in this prison “My
name’s Sirius Black, I’m your godfather . . .”

The only sound that followed the proclamation was the sound of Harry hitting the floor
and moving further away from the cell, completely ignoring the man from this point on.

“Holy crap” Archie exhaled, those two words pretty much summed up how they were
feeling pretty well, having just read through the entirety of Slytherin’s diary.
“You said it” Cedric mumbled, sounding troubled “it makes several references in there to
his ‘beloved Matilda’, which is probably the monster that’s attacking us today . . .”

“It’s a Basilisk,” Archie stated with a dawning comprehension “it all makes sense now,
Harry knew this too!” he proclaimed excitedly to the confused Hufflepuff student. Archie
hadn’t left the room since first joining, and Cedric only did when getting them food. They
figured classes were still cancelled anyway, but even if they weren’t, they didn’t much care.
“What are you talking about? Basilisks kill with their gaze, not petrify – only Jordan was
killed” Cedric pointed out.

“No, you don’t understand, every time someone was petrified, they met the Basilisk’s
gaze through a secondary source,” he listed off each attack “a puddle of water, a camera
lens, a ghost’s transparent body and a set or mirrors – they would have never received
the full effects of the beast’s killer gaze, thus the petrification!”

Cedric nodded, albeit warily “Alright, say there’s a Basilisk running around the school
attacking the students, what could we possibly do about it? It’s got to be over one
thousand years old, and with age, comes growth . . .” he pointed out warily.

Archie’s eyes widened for a split second before narrowing in determination “It doesn’t
matter, I’m not going to fail Harry” he said resolutely “it says in here that the entrance to
his chamber, and the beast’s lair, was built under the sink of the teacher’s bathroom, but
from what I know, there aren’t any teacher’s bathrooms on the second floor . . .” he
pointed out thoughtfully.

“Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?” Cedric hazarded a guess, making Archie’s eyes go wide.

“It makes sense, not only that, someone once told me she died around fifty years ago in
that bathroom, and that was the last time the chamber was opened!” he pointed out.

“So the entrance to the chamber is in her bathroom and the chamber holds the Basilisk,
that doesn’t help us bypass the Parseltongue password” Cedric pointed out.

“No, it doesn’t, but I think Harry already told me the password!” he grinned excitedly and
turned to the blank last page of the book.

“Ssahasssieth” he said, with his best imitation of Parseltongue. Both Cedric and Archie
watched in amazement as text appeared magically on the last page:

By now, you must have realized that the monster within the Chamber is a Basilisk, the
Chamber is in Myrtle’s Bathroom, and the Parsel word I whispered to you is the password
to gain entry.

What I need you to do, if you feel like you can, is lay in wait in the chamber for the culprit
of the attacks and the controller of the Basilisk to appear, then subdue him.
Unfortunately, I don’t see a way around battling the Basilisk if you try and harm her
master, in that case, all I can tell you is to stick to your strengths and you’ll be fine.
Theoretically . . .

Also, you needn’t worry about my stay in Azkaban, if you think clearly, you will
understand why . . .

Good luck and don’t die, or I’ll just escape from here illegally and shit on your grave.

With love,

Harry

Cedric sniggered quietly at his sign off while Archie appeared to be deep in thought
“What the hell is he talking about if I . . . think . . . SWEET MERLIN’S TESTES!” he
exclaimed and he started to laugh hysterically.
“Archie, are you okay?” Cedric asked warily, thinking his friend had finally gone insane.

“That magnificent bastard pulled the wool over everyone’seyes! He knew he was going to
get imprisoned in Azkaban, he had to, he wrote about being imprisoned before it even
happened!” Archie pointed out by pointing to the mentioning of Azkaban in the copy of
the diary “hell, he must have known months ago!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Cedric finally snapped, not knowing what the hell
was going on.

“Last week,” he pointed out with a grin “he asked me to brew him some nutrient potions
for ‘Quidditch training’, he said at the time that he didn’t have time for meals, so I brewed
him an extremely potent one that would last him a month!”

“Wait, you’re saying that as long as we finish this in a month, he’ll be fine physically?”
Cedric asked, a smile growing on his lips. The question, however, made Archie pause.

“Mate, thanks for the help and all, but I can’t ask you to help face down a thousand year
old Basilisk of all things, you’ve done more than enough . . .” Cedric merely let him know
what he thought of that with a cuff to the head.

“You’re not doing this alone, especially now that Harry proved his innocence without a
shadow of a doubt, there’s no way I can let him rot in that hell hole and live with myself
knowing that I did nothing . . .”

Archie smiled at his friend and gave his thanks.

“That still doesn’t help in terms of the Dementors; no nutrient potion can shield their effects
. . .” he paused “and how the hell did he smuggle the potion in there anyway . . . don’t tell
me . . .” Cedric made a face and motioned to his rear.

“Of course not!” Archie defended “if what I think he did is the truth . . .” Archie proceeded
to rip the spine out of the copy of the diary, and to Cedric’s surprise, Harry’s wand fell out.

“But . . . I saw them take it!” Cedric protested.

“You saw a piece of wood that looked like Harry’s wand, hollowed out and holding my
potion given to the minister,” Archie grinned “if he’s as stupid as I think he is, he must
have snapped it and handed it right to him!”

Cedric laughed with Archie until his original question made him pause “What about the
Dementors?”

Archie winced a little at the mention of the hellish creatures “Harry’s an Occlumens,” he
explained what exactly that meant to the Hufflepuff “it won’t completely stop the effects
over a whole month, but it will reduce it, we just need to hurry and save him as soon as
possible . . .”

“Got it,” Cedric grinned “what do we need to do?”

Archie looked off into space for a few moments before turning to Cedric with a tortured
expression marring his features “I’ll need three weeks to brew the potions I’ll need for
this to work, in that time, you can use this room to find any spells you can understand that
will defend us against a Basilisk.

“Hey, don’t worry Archie, we’ll save him” Cedric reassured his friend, who only supplied a
weak smile in return.

“I hope so . . .”

Harry grinned slyly at the Dementor that seemed angered not to find any positive
emotions to feed off of, or bad memories to show as it floated away with a hiss. His only
‘companion’ had transformed into his dog Animagus to try and ward off the effects,
though he looked pale and rattled, well, more so than usual.
Holding his hand before his face, Harry clicked his forefinger and thumb, causing his
thumb to be engulfed in a dull, yet visible light. The result made him grin.

‘Who ever said spending three weeks with only one’s own thoughts was a waste of time?’
he thought as he continued to practise small feats of wandless magic.

“Harry,” his annoying companion called out to him desperately “you need to believe me,
I’m innocent, Peter was your parent’s secret keeper!” he sounded so desperate, begging
like that for him to listen, but three weeks of ignoring his cries started to get annoying.

“What will it take for you to shut up?” he snapped, not in the mood to hear his moaning
any more.

“I don’t want anything more than for you to believe me,” he begged, emboldened by
finally getting a response from Harry “did you know I never had a fair trial? I would
willingly make a testimony under Veritaserum if they offered it, but that bastard Crouch
threw me in here without a trial!”

That was news to him, why had Remus never told him his ‘traitorous’ godfather never
received a trial? Wouldn’t he want to know the results of a Veritaserum testimony for
some peace of mind at least?

“No trial, you say?” Harry mumbled “that’s interesting. . .” Harry, for the first time,
locked eyes with the man claiming to be his godfather and entered his thoughts using
Legilimency.

It was hard to sift through his memories, as most of his thoughts were revolving around
grief, vengeance, and hate, but he finally got to the memories that mattered.

“Prongs, it’s a perfect plan, no one would suspect Peter to be your secret keeper, and he
can go in hiding too while I lead them on a wild goose chase!” a younger looking Sirius
proposed cleverly.

“I don’t like using you as bait Sirius” a woman, no doubt his mother, frowned while holding
a toddler to her chest. The unruly ebony locks and emerald eyes made it clear who the
child was.

“Yeah Padfoot mate, it’s a great plan, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not sure I want to risk
your life like that” a young James Potter said warily.

“It’s my life to risk and my godson to protect!” he boomed, causing the two Potters to
lower their heads “look, I care for you all like you’re my family, heck, you are my family, I
want to do this . . .” Lily, who had tears in her eyes just hugged him tightly as James
joined the embrace shortly after.

Harry wasn’t satisfied yet, and continued to sift through his memories, the lack of any
Occlumency skill what-so-ever made it harmless on Sirius and easy for Harry.

“I’ll kill you Peter!” Sirius howled in rage “come out, Peter, you can’t hide from me, you’ll
pay for what you did!”

“No! Sirius! I can’t believe you betrayed James and Lily like that!” the rat of a man
shouted with a smirk before cutting off his finger and blowing up half of the street, taking
thirteen muggles with him. Before Sirius’s memory faded out, he saw a rat run into the
sewers from the scene of the crime . . .”

Harry immediately pulled out of his thoughts and stood up, the potato sack the only thing
covering his nudity, but despite his new place of residence, he had kept his physique as
best he could, which was almost exactly the same as how he went in.

Sirius watched as his godson clutched the bars to his cell and started laughing! This
laughter however wasn’t hysterical, or lacking sanity. If he had to describe it as
something, he would say that it was dark.

“All my life, for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted nothing more then to kill you for
betraying my parents, Moony and me” he laughed “when the one who will be killed has
been living his life as a rat” Harry’s head snapped in Sirius’ direction and the man almost
back pedalled due to the look in his eyes “don’t get too comfy Sirius, you’ll be out before
long; but not before Lucius and his minister boy-toy pay for it out of their ass.”

Harry’s laughter grew increasingly louder until he spun around to the wall behind him; arm
outstretched, and sent a wave of pure magic at it, rocking the very foundations of the
wing they were imprisoned in.

Harry was looking at his hand while Sirius looked on in shock “Well,” Harry chuckled
“imagine that . . .” and suddenly, without warning, Harry collapsed on the hard stone
floor, completely exhausted.

Sirius quickly changed into his dog form and rushed into Harry’s cell through the bars.
Padding over next to the surprisingly extremely fit young man, he used his fur coat to
keep him warm. He finally had his godson back! No Dementor could ever tear this feeling
of joy away from him!

The past three weeks were filled with complete and utter chaos as the students waited
to be sent home early for the year.
Following the public arrest of Harry, the school had essentially split into three groups,
those that knew he was innocent and something larger than they could understand was
happening, which consisted of the majority of Ravenclaw students, the professors and
Cedric and his friends.

Then there was those who hated and spoke against him whenever they could, which
included most of the Gryffindors, lead by Longbottom. The boy was still bitter about
being pegged as a dark lord.

Then, finally, there was the majority of the Slytherins who gloating over the loss of
Ravenclaw’s star student and capitalizing wherever possible to win the house cup, not
that anyone but them cared about it anymore.
Then there was Remus arriving at Hogwarts and demanding to know what happened to
Harry, Archie had never been so scared of the man before when he found out Harry was
arrested and sent to Azkaban without a trial. His eyes had shone an unnatural amber
colour and he had let out a bestial roar of anguish. Remus had immediately left to seek
help with any allies he had gained from Moony Nights.

Even though Harry’s supposed ‘reign of terror’ had been stopped by his arrest, people were
still wary to travel anywhere on their own, and today proved that doing so wasn’t a very
smart idea, for a Gryffindor first year, Ginerva Weasley, disappeared.

Currently though, Archie and Cedric were sneaking to the second floor bathroom, a fresh
stock of potions ready and a repertoire of anti-basilisk spells ready to go. Rushing into
the bathroom, Archie quickly spotted the required sink.

“Ssahasssieth!” his hissed loudly as Cedric tried to suppress the shiver that went down his
spine. They both watched in fascination as the door to the chamber opened and revealed
a narrow slope leading into darkness.

Before Cedric could even digest what was happening, Archie had leapt into the hole and
slid down to the entrance to the chamber, he wasn’t far behind. They rushed down the
dark, mouldy and winding tunnel only to stop when they saw a sight they definitely didn’t
expect to be seeing, Gilderoy Lockhart and Ronald Weasley.

“What the fuck?” was Archie’s intelligent question.

“It doesn’t matter, someone got here before us!” Cedric panicked as Ron finally noticed them.

“You two, I knewit!” he called triumphantly “you’re both here to attack someone with
Slytherin’s monster again, well, I won’t let you!” he stood in front of the cave in with a
broken wand protectively “you’ll have to go through me first!”

Without even batting an eyelash, Cedric fired off two lightning quick stunners that
knocked out the dazed professor and the second year Gryffindor.

“Idiot,” Archie mumbled “how are we getting passed that?” Archie motioned towards the cave in

“I’ve got it,” Cedric assured with a determined frown as he started to twirl his wand in an
elaborate manner.

“Wingardium Leviosa”

The spell, while usually quite useless, was used masterfully by Cedric to lift ten boulders
from beneath the blockage and thus, create an opening for them to pass through.

“Hurry, I can’t hold it for long!” he sounded strained.

The two rushed through and the boulders immediately dropped as they passed, back to
their original location. Suddenly, they heard a loud crashing sound and they both made
their way to the source, following the long, candlelit tunnel to the end and hiding behind a
pillar before gaping at the sight before them.

A huge, eighty foot, basilisk was slithering around and chasing something from pillar to
pillar while a small red head lay motionless at the foot of the stature of Salazar Slytherin.
What confused them though, was the slightly transparent body of a boy a little older
than them, hissing orders at the Basilisk, orders they couldn’t understand. It was then
that they realized that the thing the Basilisk was chasing was none other than Neville
Longbottom himself, as he tried to avoid the massive, deadly beast.

“Cedric, drink this,” Archie whispered quietly, uncorking a small vial of bright green liquid
and handing it to his friend “it’s an elixir that will increase your reflexes for an hour . . .”

“You can do Alchemy?!” he hissed quietly, not in the mood for any more surprises.

“Drink this too,” he ordered, handing him a bottle of clear liquid and ignoring Cedric’s
question “it’s Felix Felicis, liquid luck, we can use as much as we can get by the looks of
things . . .”

“Right,” Cedric accepted both gratefully “let’s do this!”

Archie grinned, and with a silencing charm placed on their feet, the two snuck from pillar to
pillar, closer to the Basilisk.

“Cedric, I need you to lure the beast right over by that pillar,” Archie asked, as he took in
his surroundings “that’s the perfect spot, do it as soon as I take care of his senses, okay?”

Cedric nodded in understanding as Archie drank another potion which turned him
invisible. Sneaking up to a spot closer to the beast, Archie picked up a rather big rock and
tossed it at its gargantuan head.

Immediately, the transparent boy and the huge serpent whipped their heads in his
direction, though both were confused when they saw nothing. Making sure to avoid its
gaze, not knowing the particulars on how it kills with it, Archie tossed a vial with sludgy
black liquid within right at its face and caught the massive beast unaware.

The second the vial connected with the beast’s face, the vial shattered into thousands of
tiny pieces of glass, releasing a large amount of black sludge, burning and scarring its
eyes and nose. The serpent hissed in rage and began to thrash about in random
directions as the unknown boy continued to yell at it, in what Archie could only assume to
be Parseltongue.

To any observer, it looked as if the amount of black sludge originally in the vial and the
amount currently dripping from the beast’s head weren’t proportional.

Archie pulled out three more vials, this time of a dark brown gassy substance, from
another pocket and threw them in random directions around the Basilisk; the vials
exploded and released small mushroom clouds of gas at random places around the chamber.

Had Archie not drank the elixir that increased his reflexes, he may not have been able to
dodge the huge tail that swung in his direction in time – the blinded beast was now simply
thrashing around in random direction, hoping to hit its target by luck. It was with that
though, that Archie’s invisibility potion wore off and he came into view again.

“What did you do?!” the boy finally shrieked to him in English “What did you do to it?!” he
asked, while pointing a wand at Archie.

“And just who the hell are you?” Archie countered heatedly, in an annoyed tone as a
putrid smell filled the air. Both Archie and Cedric simultaneously cast a bubblehead charm
on themselves so they could avoid the stench.

“Now Cedric!” Archie shouted, as the Basilisk used its only remaining sense, its hearing, to
track Archie down as it slithered at top speeds in his direction.

“Sanus Maximus!” he shouted loudly with his wand pointed up into the air.

A terrible, piercing screech tore through the chamber as the Basilisk screamed in agony
when its overpowered sense of hearing was forced to absorb the incredibly high pitched
sound; in fact, it was so high pitched, none of the people in the room could hear it – the
Basilisk sure could though.

“Reducto, Reducto, Reducto!” Cedric fired continuous bolts of blue magical power at the
ground near the Basilisk, shredding the stone floor apart and sending large chunks of stone
in all directions around it.

Archie and Cedric were now ignoring the hissing boy, the Basilisk, however, having its
eardrums destroyed by Cedric’s spell, had no other choice but to attack blindly, using the
direction the stones were being banished into it from as a guide. The pieces of boulder
Cedric was banishing at the Basilisk were cutting into the open wounds caused by the
black sludge, only enraging the beast further.

Cedric continued to back pedal while leading the basilisk right to where Archie had wanted
it to be, until it was right next to the pillar Archie had pointed out earlier.

“Die!” Archie yelled angrily, tossing two more vials at the ceiling above the Basilisk with all
his might. The vials of red liquid, upon making contact with the wall, instantly exploded,
rocking the chamber to its foundations, and causing several huge boulders to fall down
towards the beast.

Both Archie and Cedric knew though that blunt objects would never be enough to damage
a Basilisk through its incredibly thick hide.

“Do it Cedric!”

Cedric nodded, determination in his eyes, as he began to wave his wand in intricate
patterns and mutter spell after spell under his breath.

Neville Longbottom, the unnamed boy and Archie all looked on in awe as the boulders
changed shape to look like several large, rocky, stalactites. They weren’t aimed very well,
but that didn’t much matter when there were roughly a dozen rock spears, each the size
of the half-giant, Hagrid, himself. In the end, five of them pierced through the beast’s
body, the momentum of the heavy objects and the amount of sharpening they went
through due to the spells were enough to make it through the Basilisk’s heavy hide.

The sight of the legendary serpent thrashing around in agony at his feet saddened
Archie in ways he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t its fault its master had left it alone for a
millennium, it wasn’t its fault its masters were crazy, but he wouldn’t allow it to be used
to harm more innocents.

“I’m sorry” he said with actual regret before tossing three vials of bright red liquid down
the throat of the thrashing creature, who had no other choice by to swallow them.

It didn’t take long for the vials to be broken within the creature’s digestion system, and
when they did, a huge explosion blew up the creature’s body from the inside, completely
blasting the Basilisk in two.

“No!” the unnamed boy yelled “Look what you’ve done!” he sounded murderous “you’ll pay
for this!”

“Who the fuck areyou?!” Archie asked, fed up with this idiot.

“His name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, he says he’s Lord Voldemort and he’s siphoning energy
from Ginny to get his body back!” Neville suddenly appeared, looking worse for wear,
from behind a pillar and warned them.

“V-Voldemort?!” Cedric gasped incredulously as he looked to the smirking boy.

“Siphoning energy, you say?” Archie mumbled under his breath “you don’t say,” he
looked around the cave for anything that could be used as a medium to perform such a
thing. He didn’t know much about rituals, but he figured that if one were to siphon
something, you would need a medium to make sure the energy is going from source A to
source B. Seeing as that this ‘Tom’ wasn’t casting any spells, something else must be doing
it for him.

It was then that Archie spotted a glowing, and old looking leather bound diary sitting
innocently on the floor near the Weasley girl. Archie continued to look around quickly
while Tom advanced on them, twirling his wand arrogantly, before spotting the Basilisk’s
head and formulating a quick and reckless plan.

“Cedric, take cover,” he yelled, causing Tom to snap his head in his direction, a spell ready
on his lips, but Archie had already made his move. Throwing a smoky, black vial Marcus
Flint would be able to remember at the ground, Archie used the cover it created him to rip
out one of the Basilisk’s deadly fangs and rush over to the discarded diary.

“I hope this works,” he mumbled, and proceeded to stab diary with all his might “what the .
. . ?” he mumbled in confusion as copious amounts of ink began ‘bleeding’ out of the stab
wound and Tom began screeching madly.

Archie looked over to Ginny Weasley to see colour returning to her pale features, she
looked like she would be okay.

“Hey, Archie mate?” Cedric’s voice called through the black smoke.

“Over here, I think that shrieking noise means he’s dead, the girl looks like she’s okay too .
. .” he mumbled as Cedric followed his voice and found him.

“That’s all well and good, but how are we going to get out of here?”

Dead silence met his question “Well, fuck”

A scowling Cornelius Fudge, followed by Archie, Remus, Tonks and Albus Dumbledore
made their way to where they knew Harry Potter to be imprisoned. After providing the
Minister with solid evidence of Harry’s innocence, paired with testimonies from Archie and
Cedric, he didn’t have much of a choice but to release him from prison.
“It won’t do much good,” Fudge commented “he was being rather difficult when we
arrested him - so he was punished and placed in his cell accordingly . . .”
“I do hope you know, Minister, that should he have come under any harm, after it has
been ‘proven’ that he was innocent, your days as a Minister are at an end,” Remus
informed the sad excuse of a man with a hate filled voice “I’m sure Wizarding Britain won’t
take too kindly to having their new sporting hero imprisoned in Azkaban for no reason”
Remus himself looked exhausted and agitated, ever sine hearing of Harry’s
imprisonment, he hadn’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since.

The only visible sign of Fudge hearing Remus’ comment was a slightly quickening of his pace.

When they arrived at his cell, they were shocked to see Harry, looking rather fit despite
his situation, with only a potato sack for clothing, in the middle of some sit-ups with his
back to them.

Rising silently, he turned slowly to face his visitors. His skin had become dirty and a sickly
pale colour while his hair had grown out passed his shoulders during his three and a half
week stay.

“Cornelius . . .” he addressed with humour in his voice “perhaps you will learn now, after
our discussions, what happens when you mess with Harry Potter.”

“Insolent brat, we arrested you because all the evidence pointed to you, you have no
case!” he hissed, and sadly, Dumbledore who was listening and representing Hogwarts
and the Wizengamot, knew he was right.

“I’m not talking about the evidence, dear Minister,” he sauntered over to the bars that
separated him from the group and leaned on them, placing his face close to the Minister’s
“I’m talking about the charges I am going to file against you for conspiracy to commit
murder, defamation and unlawful imprisonment,” he grinned at his shocked expression “I
have more than enough evidence depicting you and Lucius Malfoy as being responsible
for every single attack on Hogwarts grounds this year . . .”

“You have no such thing!” Fudge shouted, sounding alarmed.

“Trust me, I do,” he grinned “but worry not, no charges will be filed so long as you submit
to my demands, in fact, you do so and I won’t even speak badly of you to every
newspaper in the world . . .” he sent a wink to Remus and Archie, who were gaping at him
incredulously.

“Name your terms” Fudge demanded, all too quickly.

“Twenty million galleons will be deposited into my vaults at Gringotts and you will hold a
trial for one Sirius Orion Black.”

His terms were met with complete and utter chaos.

Chapter: 17
Chapter 18: Lucile

“Preposterous!” Fudge shouted loudly, relaying his thoughts about Harry’s demands quite
clearly “out of the question!”

“Are you out of your mind Harry?!” his friend questioned, looking to Fudge warily; Harry
figured that Archie didn’t think he had this situation under control.

“It won’t do any good, my boy,” Dumbledore, referring to Sirius no doubt, put in his
opinion with a quick sideways glance at Sirius’ cell.

“Harry . . .” Remus began, the pain those memories brought back to the werewolf
almost made Harry feel guilty about bringing it up “you know how I feel about you talking
about that man . . .”

“First, you have no choice in the matter minister – either you accept my demands along
with the stipulations that are tied with them, or you’ll be enjoying the same hospitality
you have seen fit to show me this past month,” he grinned before motioning to
Dumbledore “I’m sure his ‘Chief Mugwumpiness’ over there can attest to that, should my
evidence prove what I say it proves,” Dumbledore gave a quick nod to Fudge at Harry’s
unasked question, a grin barely visible behind his beard at how he was addressed “And
Moony, I don’t think you should talk about ‘that man’, as you so eloquently put it, as if he
weren’t in the room” Remus looked to the only other cell in the room housing a prisoner
with shock, as its occupant, who was currently seated against the far wall, raised his
skeletal and dirty head to lock eyes with Remus.

Recognizing those grey eyes anywhere, despite the fact that where they were once
always full of life, they were now dull, Remus was immediately on guard.

“Your demands are unreasonable, how do I even know you’re not lying?!” Fudge, who
was getting agitated, hollered.

“Cornelius, even if I don’t possess any such proof of your crimes, your reaction to its
possible existence casts more than enough doubt on yourself to warrant a full
questioning under Veritaserum before the Wizengamot – you have no choice in the
matter” he reminded the quickly angering man. Fudge looked to Dumbledore to see if this
was true, and to his dismay, the wizened old wizard nodded in affirmation.

Fudge quickly went over Harry’s proposal in his head. There was no way he could pay the
brat off with Ministry funds, or his own cash; the boy, too, had to know this. It was
clearly a demand made to Lucius more than himself. Should the boy go to the media with
his case, with how he was unlawfully imprisoned and treated, not only would he find
himself out of a job, he’s probably get thrown in here too, as well as Lucius, for an
extended stay. Then there was Black’s trial, even if he was found innocent, it wouldn’t
affect him politically as it was Crouch who carted him off to Azkaban without a
Veritaserum testimony.

“What assurances do I have that you won’t go to the media anyway, even if I get you
the money?” Fudge demanded, much to the shock of the people in the room who never
expected him to even consider it.

“I, Harry James Potter, do swear by my life and magic that should Cornelius Oswald
Fudge adhere to the terms we have agreed upon, that I will not in any way, shape or
form release the story of my unlawful imprisonment and treatment to anyone whose
possession of such knowledge would be detrimental to Cornelius Oswald Fudge,” he
recited as he stuck his hand out through the bar for a hand shake “and should Cornelius
Oswald Fudge ever again in the future make an unlawful attempt to cause me harm,
defame or imprison me, I will be free of this oath and within my rights to act in any manner
I see fit in retaliation he finished with his lengthy and well thought out oath.

“Wow,” Archie said, clearly impressed “thought that through much?”

“I had three and a half weeks” Harry answered, sending his friend a grin.

Fudge played over the oath again in his mind, and though he was loathe giving up on the
ability to plot against him again in the future, at least he’d remain in office, where he
could stay out of the brat’s way and vice-versa. However, there was still the beautiful
fact that he had already snapped the brat’s wand, whatever threat he could have been
had been completely destroyed by that action alone.

“So mote it be” Fudge agreed with a smug grin to the terms of the oath and sealed the
deal by accepting Harry’s handshake.

“Splendid,” he replied dryly “Professor Dumbledore, if you will?” Harry motioned towards the
still locked door “I do hope one of you had the forethought to bring me some clothing.”

Remus sent another hate-filled glare towards Fudge, who shifted nervously under his
scrutiny, before Remus handed Harry a bag with an outfit within.

When Harry had finished getting dressed and was out of his cell, he turned to Archie with a grin

“Archades, my effects, if you will” he held out his hand expectantly as his friend grinned
right back.

“Figured you’d want it back” he answered, and to Fudge’s shock, Archie handed Harry his
perfectly intact wand.

“What . . . but I . . . it’s not possible . . . what was . . . ?” Harry looked to Fudge with a
smug smirk.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you snap my wand, did you?”

“Headmaster, if you’d release Mister Black from his cell, we can take him to the head of
the DMLE for a questioning under Veritaserum, under your supervision” he motioned
towards Sirius’ cell.

“Harry, you don’t know what you’re doing, he betrayed your parents! He betrayed his
friends! It’s because of him your mother is the way she is!” Remus tried to dissuade him of
this course of action.

“You really have so little faith in me?” he asked with a raised brow “and why do you care?
All he’s getting right now is a full questioning under Veritaserum, something he wasn’t
awarded before, and if you’re right, he’ll come right back and we can forget all about
this,” he pointed to Sirius’ cell behind them “but if you’re wrong, you get your once best
friend back and someone who can beat the crap out of you for betraying him and
wanting to bone Nymphadora!”

Still in shock at being informed that his old friend wasn’t allowed the right to be tried under
Veritaserum, he was barely able to come up with a reply.

“I didn’t know . . . I didn’t betray him . . . I thought he betrayed us!” he protested weakly
while Harry and Archie grinned.

“Hear that Sirius? He didn’t deny wanting to bone Nymphadora!” he yelled down the
corridor Sirius was being lead out of the prison from, his voice echoed loudly against the
stone walls “Shame on the cradle robber!”

“Shame!” Archie yelled in agreement, feeling much better to see his friend on the other
side of those horribly rusted prison bars.

Sirius let out a bark of raspy laughter as Dumbledore led him away with Fudge under
careful supervision, leaving a highly embarrassed Remus and an amused pair of Ravenclaws.

“You did what?!” Lucius Malfoy hissed angrily at the idiot of a Minister he had in his pocket.
“You heard me Lucius, it was either that, or to Azkaban with the both of us” Fudge
defended his decision “and you can forget about me helping you with any of your
ridiculous plans for Potter again in the future, I have my job to protect.”

“Ah, yes, the oath you made,” Malfoy narrowed his eyes “the plan was fine, it was your
pathetic showing at the prison that let the boy manipulate you, what kind of Politician are you?!”

“One that could do absolutely nothing when the boy had the law on his side and the
Chief Mugwump standing right there, ready to assist if necessary” Fudge sighed “I don’t
know why you’re so upset, had his charges stuck, you would be rotting away in Azkaban
right beside me, and no amount of money would have bought you out of that mess . . .”

“Don’t be so sure,” Malfoy hissed with a deadly edge to his voice “every bit of money the
brat is able to attain makes him all the more powerful, and with the way he uses it, it will
be no time at all before the Potter vaults will compare to the Malfoy ones . . .”

“Hardly Lucius, the Malfoy vaults house over a billion galleons, while the Potter one
couldn’t be more than fifty million . . .” Fudge reasoned.

“Let’s forget that you somehow know how much galleons I possess for the moment
Cornelius and actually think for a moment,” Lucius snapped, as Fudge shifted
uncomfortably “with that ridiculous oath that you made, Potter has become untouchable
less he commits a crime, which I don’t see happening any time soon . . .”

“I think it’s time you leave Lucius, I’ve had enough of your scheming,” Fudge snapped
“Twice, I’ve gone up against Potter and twice he has come out, not only on top, but far
better off than before, and while I appreciate your generous donations to the Ministry,
I’m not going to prison or getting fired over a brat who will now stay out of my way if I
stay out of his!”

“You are making a mistake, Cornelius,” Malfoy’s tone had become a whole lot colder
“granted, it seems Potter has manipulated both situations in a way in which he would
come out on top in the end regardless, but that is merely because we underestimated his
resourcefulness, if only we . . .”

“Aurors!” Fudge yelled, getting tired of Lucius’ ego not being able to take a hit “remove
this man from my office.”

The two summoned Aurors went to grab Malfoy by the arm, but the man merely shrugged
off their grips and walked out on his own with a scowl on his face – Fudge would pay for
this betrayal!

“Why is it just . . .?” Sirius began to ask before collapsing into a coughing fit. He may have
given his voice some exercise over the past month with Harry being in Azkaban with him,
but that wasn’t enough to heal a decade of disuse.
“Drink this, Mister Black, it will help” Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical
Law Enforcement, offered him a glass of water, which did little to actually help but it was
better than nothing.

“Thank you” he said as he eyed the three familiar faces and one stranger in the room. A
tall, black Auror by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt stood with a hand on his wand
holster behind Sirius beside Dumbledore. The two had escorted Sirius from Azkaban to
make sure this questioning took place in the interests of justice. The stranger in the room
was the Ministry supplied Potions brewer – he was there to administer the Veritaserum for
this questioning.

“Why is it just us five?” Sirius asked, wondering why so few people were present.

“This isn’t exactly a trial, Mister Black,” Bones began to answer “all we are going to be
conducting is a questioning under Veritaserum, for that we only need the Potion, myself,
and your escorts present – rest assured that if you really are innocent, you need no
other people present” the woman answered, to Sirius, she had always seemed to be a
strict, yet fair woman, so he felt safe knowing that.

“Administer the truth serum” Dumbledore told the young man, who merely nodded, tilted
Sirius’ head back and applied three drops of the translucent liquid to his tongue.

Sirius’ eyes glazed over as the effects took place “What is your name?” Dumbledore
asked, wanting to see if the serum was working. A little push on his mind with Legilimency
was also administered to make sure he hadn’t resisted its effects.

“Sirius Orion Black” his voice came out in monotone, everything looked okay.

“Were you the secret keeper for the property under the Fidelius Charm known as Godric’s
Hollow?” Dumbledore went straight to it, only wanting to know if Sirius was innocent of his
crimes at the moment, if he was, he could be questioned later on under normal pretences
of what actually happened.

“No” that simple answer shocked the occupants of the room into silence.

“Did you betray James and Lily Potter?” Bones asked, Sirius didn’t hesitate when he answered.

“Yes” the answer, no doubt, caused a high amount of confusion until Dumbledore stepped in.

“Perhaps the question was a bit too vague,” he mused “How did you betray James and
Lily Potter?”
Sirius hesitated for a brief moment before answering “I peeked on Lily in the shower on
seven separate occasions after James strictly told me I couldn’t, and I convinced them to
use Peter Pettigrew to be the secret keeper of their home.”

Bones frowned angrily at the admission Sirius gave to being a pervert while Kingsley
coughed into his hand to hide his amusement, despite the serious situation.

Dumbledore, seeing how Sirius could think he betrayed the Potters by making Pettigrew
the secret keeper, moved on with his questioning.

“Did you knowingly betray James and Lily Potter to any of Lord Voldemort’s followers?” he
asked gently, ignoring the wince that went throughout the room at the mentioning of the
dark lord’s name.

“No” he answered truthfully.

“Did you kill the thirteen muggles you were accused of killing the night of your arrest?”
Kingsley questioned this time, reminding the others of his other crimes.

“No.”

“Who did kill them then, and how?” Bones asked this time.

“Peter Pettigrew killed them with an overpowered Reductor curse” the people in the room
were shocked into silence once again.

“Peter Pettigrew is dead” silence met Dumbledore’s statement, as he admonished himself

for being forgetful at a time like this; he rephrased the statement so that it was a
question “Is Peter Pettigrew not dead by your hand?”

“Peter Pettigrew is not dead, to my knowledge” Sirius answered as best he could.

“What happened to Pettigrew after thatnight?” Bones asked.

“Peter, after betraying James, Lily and Harry, killing the muggles, and yelling to the world
about my betrayal, cut off his finger with a knife and escaped into the sewer in his rat
Animagus form” he answered dutifully, as the people in the room hoped this would be the
last time they were shocked.

“Peter Pettigrew is not a registered Animagus” bones muttered as she checked the
registry she had in her office “Are you suggesting he is an illegal Animagus?”

“No, I’m telling you he’s an illegal Animagus, he learnt it in his fifth year of school” he
answered yet again.

“Does that mean you’re an Illegal Animagus too?” she asked crossly, not liking law
breaking of any kind.

“You do not need to answer that Mister Black,” Dumbledore interrupted, right before
Sirius was about to answer “he is not charged with being one, so any questioning relating
to that topic is unnecessary” his eyes were twinkling merrily as Bones glared at him.

“Do you know of Peter Pettigrew’s whereabouts?” Bones asked with a tired sigh, the final
question for the night.
“No” he answered once again, as Dumbledore nodded to the Potions expert to administer
the antidote.

“Madam, I think it is clear with what we have heard tonight that Mister Black should be
cleared of all charges” Dumbledore suggested with a smile, as Sirius sat there in shock
while Bones nodded tiredly.

“Sirius Orion Black, as the head of the DMLE, I hereby exonerate you of all your charges
and release you back into society,” she announced to the teary eyed Sirius “The Ministry
will compensate you for your unjust time spent in prison – I believe fifty thousand
galleons for each year spent should suffice,” she announced to the stunned room tiredly “I
will need you to give me a statement of the exact events of that night, but other then
that, you’re free to go” she smiled at Sirius, as he actually let a few tears fall.

“I’m free?” he asked in disbelief, as Kingsley put a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Yes, Mister Black, as soon as you give me your statement” she confirmed.

“I’m free,” he repeated quietly “I can finally see my friends again, play Quidditch, get
laid!” he announced cheerfully at the end “so much time wasted, I need to get to know
my godson!”

“I’m sure he’d love to get to know you,” Dumbledore smiled “maybe,” he frowned “most
likely” he corrected at the end, ignoring the confused Sirius.

“Doesn’t matter, maybe I can teach him some Quidditch moves,” he bounced around
happily, to the amusement to those in the room “there’s nothing like Quidditch to bring a
family together, I just hope he’s as good as his old man, he’d have to be if he wanted to
stand a chance against me!” he let out a guffaw while Dumbledore looked more amused
then ever.

“I believe there are some things you need to know about young Mister Potter, Sirius . . .”

Harry whistled appreciatively when he finally arrived at the heart of the Chamber of
Secrets and was exposed to the body of the dead Basilisk. He had followed the tunnel
from the entrance he knew to exist from Myrtle’s bathroom and easily ended up here,
though he did have to transfigure a large pile of rubble blocking his way into, strong,
supportive columns less the ceiling collapsed on him.
Just as he’d expected, his little tryst in Azkaban did nothing to harm his reputation with
the other students in the school, in fact, it probably just increased it. The sob story the
Prophet was painting to the Wizarding world about his imprisonment combined with the
‘bad-boy’ image it supposedly gave him to be an ‘ex-con’ had the unfortunate affect of
only increasing many of the girls’ in Hogwarts opinion of him. Had he known this from the
start, or added it to his calculations, he’d probably have made Malfoy fork out another
thirty million just out of principal.

Ravenclaw had, unsurprisingly, decided it was necessary to throw him a ‘welcome back’
party in their common room, one that he had no interest in participating in. He figured
that he should at least be thankful to them for allowing him the opportunity to sneak out
on his own and explore the Chamber of Secrets like he had intended – alone.

Realizing just how many years worth of Christmas presents he had lying on the floor in
front of him for Archie, Harry proceeded to dissect and tear apart the Basilisk’s body for
ingredients before banishing the leftover scraps. While he was cleaning, he also decided
to clean up the actual room with a few powerful repairing charms mixed with some
impressive transfiguration – the result was that instead of a mouldy, damaged and
breaking down secret chamber, he was standing in a less mouldy, slightly less damaged
and no longer breaking down secret chamber, a magnificent waste of time.

Harry’s reasons for coming down here though had nothing to do with cleaning the
chamber, nor salvaging potions ingredients from a legendary serpent, no, he was
searching for knowledge, more particularly, the knowledge within Slytherin’s hidden library.

“I will lead you to my secrets if you know the true meaning of power . . .” he muttered
under his breath while eyeing the massive stature of Salazar Slytherin before him.

It was fortunate that Slytherin had decided to throw him a bone and leave that clue behind
in his diary, the very last line in fact, else he was certain he’d never find the information
he sought. He figured that the man wanted a way to stop his less . . . intellectually
gifted descendants from having access to his life’s work, whether he knew that someone
not of his bloodline could access it though remains to be seen.

“Ipsa scientia potestas est” he spoke loud and clear to the statue of the founder, reciting
the man’s favourite quote in Latin hoping, no, knowing it was correct. Harry found it
quite amusing that the man who had made the saying famous in the muggle world didn’t
exist until five hundred years after Slytherin’s time.

To his disappointment, Slytherin’s stature remained unmoving, which is why he was

caught unawares when the floor beneath him glowed a bright green in colour. Gracefully
leaping backwards and drawing his wand warily, wondering if this was a trap, he waited
patiently for a few moments for the glow to die down.

The glow finally subsided after a few moments, revealing a set of stairs descending into
another torch lit corridor. If he ever had a chance to speak to Slytherin, he would have to
ask the man what the hell he found so fascinating about damp and dark places.

The corridor itself was lined was lined with torches up until it lead to a rather large set of
doors roughly twenty meters ahead of him. What piqued his curiositythough was that this
corridor seemed to be in a much better condition than the rest of the chamber previously
– from the marble floor, to the large granite columns and even the stone walls, not one bit
of it seemed worn or even dirty!

Curious for a place built, and never visited, for a thousand years.

Writing it off as some sort of preservation charm that was lifted when he spoke the
password, he slowly made his way down the hall and to the large doors, which
automatically opened towards him when he neared them.

He was not ashamed to admit that what met his eyes upon the opening of the large doors
surprised him to no end. Instead of a room of stone walls, and perhaps even marble floors
like the corridor, there was a nicely furnished library with mahogany furniture, a wooden
floor covered by a rug, a fireplace and a large bookshelf next to a desk filled with texts he
was itching to read. Above the mantle of the fireplace was a still picture of a younger
looking Salazar Slytherin, as the plaque indicated, looking rather handsome in a medieval
sort of way.

He only spent a few moments admiring the setup of the room before moving over to the
bookshelf. Many of the leather bound tomes were labelled on their spine in Parseltongue,
while there were few that remained blank – those ones looked the oldest, judging by the
condition of their covers.

He was surprised to find, however, that when he decided to pull out a book labelled
‘Advanced Warding and Curse-Breaking Theory Volume One’ it wouldn’t budge. He
frowned before trying another tome, and to his annoyance, he found that no matter
which one he tried, none of them would be released by the bookshelf.

“You are not of my bloodline” a voice hissed from behind him, though it sounded more
curious than menacing.

Freezing in his tracks and turning around slowly, Harry was met with the sight of a very
much awake Salazar Slytherin portrait, one that was not only speaking to him in
Parseltongue, but was sitting and stroking the head of a rather small serpent while sitting
on a couch in front of a fireplace.

“Well spotted,” he complimented “I’d imagine this to be the first time you have been
activated then?” he asked, moving closer to the portrait as he spoke seeing as he couldn’t
take the books anyway.

“You’d do well to show me some respect boy,” he said with narrowed eyes “you are, after
all, in my private study, seeking the knowledge of my life’s work.”

“You’re a portrait,” Harry drawled, not showing any fear to the portrait of the great
wizard “while I may have shown the real you respect, I refuse to do so to a magical
painting, especially when I, as you said, am not of your bloodline.”

The founder looked more amused than angry, though his eyes were still narrowed “Very
well, how is it that you, one of Rowena’s, has found your way into my most secret
sanctum?” he asked with a hiss, refusing to speak English, though given that the man
lived a thousand years ago, he figured their ideas of what ‘English’ was would clash anyway.

“I used your diary, actually” informed Harry, as he took a seat before the portrait,
refusing to stand if they were going to have a lengthy conversation.

“And how, pray tell, did it come into your possession?” he asked with a cold edge to his
voice “did you kill the rightful owner?”

“I won it from a Goblin actually, in a game of skill,” he very much doubted the man knew
what Poker was “I imagine one of your descendants bartered it to them for a few sickles,
I can assure you he wasn’t too pleased to part with it.”

“Disgusting creatures,” he muttered with distaste “their greed for riches is matched only
by the dwarves’, at least they got a good price. . .” he mumbled in annoyance, knowing
that only a Parseltongue could make use of it anyway.

“Actually, unless the Goblins obtained it closer to your time, it’s not a very good price at
all,” he corrected “this is the year two thousand and five, no doubt inflation has had a
major impact on the currency of the Wizarding world – the yearly tuition to attend
Hogwarts is around three hundred galleons nowadays, I believe” Harry took a secret
pleasure in seeing the shock on Slytherin’s face.

“It has taken that long for someone to find me?” he questioned faintly “I knew it was a
possibility for another Parseltongue to acquire the diary by unsavoury means, which is
why I had Matilda guard the Chamber from anyone not of my blood . . .” Salazar’s eyes
narrowed dangerously “what have you done with her?!” he demanded angrily, though
Harry didn’t seem fazed.

“I did nothing but salvage Potions ingredients from her corpse,” he found the Basilisk’s
name to be quite amusing “it was a friend of mine who killed her, a fourth year actually,”
seeing Slytherin about to explode, he continued on “in his defence, he is the best brewer
I know, even compared to our Potions professor, then there’s the fact that one of your
actual and only remaining descendants was using her to attack and kill students. . .”

Slytherin’s eyes widened at that last bit of information “I never expected. . .”

“This is fascinating and all,” Harry interrupted “but I have a use for your knowledge
regarding the Serpent Staff and healing magics, not to mention the copious amounts of
Parselmagic you have written in those tomes, so if you could tell me how to release them,
I can be on my way and you can mourn the loss of your dearly beloved Matilda. . .”

“Insolence!” Salazar shouted “What makes you think I’d ever let an impudent whelp like
you lay a finger on my life’s work?!”

Harry remained silent for a moment, dusting off an imaginary piece of dust from his robes
as he pondered. Suddenly, an idea struck him when he recalled a piece of information
Lestat had once told him.

“You know, under your descendant’s orders,” he embellished a bit, though he didn’t much
care “one of his followers used an unknown curse on my mother when my home was
attacked as a child – she has been in a coma ever since,” he resisted the urge to grin
victoriously when Salazar’s eyes became sympathetic “it has almost been a dozen years
since she first fell into that coma, the only way I know of how to cure her is with that
Serpent Staff. . .”

“What is your relationship with her?” he asked gently, a faraway look in his eyes as if
recalling something.

“I was three, when she was taken from me,” he figured he could throw the man a bone “I
don’t remember her well at all, but as any son should for their mother who took a curse
for them, I will not stop until she is cured.She fought valiantly against her opponent,
decimating her until the witch sent a curse in my direction in her last moments of consciousnes

Salazar remained silent for several long moments, time in which Harry spent admiring the
room some more until the man spoke again.

I will let you have access to all of my life’s work you see on that wall, mainly because I
am honour bound to for my descendant’s actions, but I have one condition,” he held up
his finger while Harry raised a curious brow “You must take this portrait with you, now
that I have been awakened, I don’t very much fancy remaining in this castle, and
especially not in this room. From what you’ve told me of your mother and the
circumstances leading to her condition, it sounds like a very powerful application of
accidental magic lead to her condition, and there is only one real cure that I know of in
those books that would help with that,” Harry’s eyes lit up with excitement for the first
time since he could remember “. . . and that potion will require you to travel the world, no
doubt, especially since you will need the staff itself.”
“So you want out so you can see the world? You know I don’t intend on carrying a
portrait around with me wherever I go” Harry responded dryly.

Salazar smirked down imperiously at him “I am well aware of that fact, I have ways
around such troublesome issues, you need not worry,” Harry resisted the urge to assure
him that he wasn’t “what possible reason do you have to decline? You’ve obviously
believed my work important and valuable enough to come all this way for; how could you
having me around not be helpful?”

Harry sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his now long, messy hair before regarding
Slytherin again “You will release to me all of the tomes in this room?” he hissed out,
wanting to make sure he wasn’t being swindled.

“Of course, I have no further use for them” Slytherin agreed with a shrug “And it also
seems my descendant is far less worthy of such an honour, especially if he or she
attacked students in this school using Matilda – disgusting!”

“Then we have an accord,” Harry frowned before lifting the canvas off the wall and
placing him closer to the shelf of tomes, on a chair.

“Are these sorted in any particular way?” Harry asked curiously as he waited for the
go-ahead to be able to take them as his own.

“Chronologically,” Salazar mumbled as he looked over the books “the books are released
from their hold, I control whether they can be released or not – another fail safe, if you will. . .”

Frowning some, Harry pulled out his trunk from his pocket and enlarged it. He opened
the heavy, leather bound lid and revealed a compartment within which housed all of his
rarer tomes.

“Big Mac” Harry hissed to the animated serpent lock, who allowed the draw to be opened
when the password was uttered.

“What in Aesculapius’ name are you talking about?” Salazar frowned while Harry snorted
in amusement at his new companion’s use of name.

“It’s a twenty-first century muggle thing – you wouldn’t understand”he automatically

answered before standing and looking at the bookshelf with a frown.

“Let’s see if this works . . .” with a mere wave of his hand, he willed his magic like he
learned to do in Azkaban with the help of his Occlumency exercises to pack the books
from the shelf into his trunk in the same order.

Salazar watched silently with a raised eyebrow at the boy’s impressive feat of wielding
magic in its purest form. He himself had been nineteen when he first discovered a way to
manipulate magic in its purest and wildest form.

Harry shrugged slightly when all the books were packed, it wasn’t too great of a skill, it
left him more tired than usual after use and had no practical uses in combat; he supposed
it was a nice party trick though.

“I think we will have an interesting relationship lad, I never got your name . . .” Salazar
looked on thoughtfully with his arms crossed.
“Harry Potter, I’m shrinking you and putting you in my trunk or else I wouldn’t get three
steps outside of this place without you being confiscated and probably mounted on the
headmaster’s wall” seeing no need to object, Salazar didn’t complain when Harry shrunk
his portrait and placed him in the dark trunk before closing it.

This would be interesting indeed.

Archie looked to his friend with concern. Harry could hide it rather well, but when you’ve
been around someone for a certain period of time, you start to notice things about them,
like how Harry always moved with a cat-like grace and his eyes always shone a bright
green, regardless of his mood.
Now though, ever since being released from Azkaban, Archie had noticed Harry’s
movements and mannerisms had become slightly more sluggish while his eyes had dulled
considerably, small bags under them implying that he had trouble sleeping.

It wasn’t anything major at first glance, but Archie could notice it just the same.

“You guys want anything from the cart?” Archie asked Cedric and Harry, who were sitting
in the same compartment as him on the Hogwarts express “It’s on me.”

“On you?” Harry asked dubiously “I know you have a job now, but that doesn’t mean you
should go splurging your money for no reason . . .”

“This isn’t money I got from working at MoonyNights,” Archie assured as Cedric grabbed
a few chocolate frogs from the cart “the party you mysteriously disappeared from last
night proved to be rather profitable,” he elaborated with a perverted grin.

“How so?” Cedric nodded politely to the woman with the food cart as she left their compartment

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to start capitalizing on that” Harry mumbled under
his breath.

“Contraceptive potions, Ced, my man,” Archie elaborated while Cedric choked on his
chocolate. The boy quickly vanished the offensive piece of candy from his throat with a
wave of his wand.

“People do stuff like that in your house?” he asked incredulously while Harry and Archie
looked at him as if he were crazy.

“Don’t be so Naïve Ced, it happens in every house,” Archie replied with a grin “and you’d
be surprised how much people would be willing to pay for the potion, it’s a lot safer than
the charm.”

“How much do you sell each one for then?” Harry asked curiously.

“Five galleons a potion and it lasts for twenty-four hours,” he said with pride “I also have
a one hundred percent, money-back guarantee should it fail, as well as the option to sue
the shit out of me if it doesn’t work” he said with a nervous chuckle.

“You have that much faith in your potions?” Cedric asked incredulously while Harry was
crunching numbers in his head “If they screw up, you could end up living on the streets”
he warned cautiously.

“Don’t worry about that little badger, I never screw up a potion, especially one as easy as
this” he reassured his concerned friend.

“From memory, the cost of the ingredients for the contraceptive potion is only a few
sickles, right?” Harry suddenly asked Archie curiously.

“Yeah, two sickles usually if I buy them in bulk” he explained as Cedric looked on in shock
while Harry only chuckled.

“Very clever of you Archades, that’s like a forty two hundred percent mark-up,” Harry
complimented, while Archie and Cedric looked on in confusion “I’m assuming you import
your ingredients from that place in Germany also?”

“Yeah, they’re the cheapest for the ingredients I want . . . I don’t like that look in your
eyes Harry” Archie suddenly added warily.

“Do shut-up, out of all the people you know of to trust with money, who would you put at
the top of that list?” Harry snapped back.

“I don’t see how you’d qualify . . .” Archie said with a frown.

“You don’t?” Harry asked incredulously “When I first started out investing and making
money, the Potter vault only had around five million galleons in it,” Cedric and Archie
gave each other incredulous looks, the message was clear, ‘Only?!’ “Now, with my
investments in various businesses, playing for England, that poker game’s winnings and
now the money to keep my mouth shut from Malfoy about their little screw up, do you
have any idea how much money I have now?”

Cedric and Archie just looked at him with lost expressions, causing Harry to groan in annoyanc

“Last I checked my bank statement, it is somewhere in the vicinity of ninety million

galleons,” he only rolled his eyes when Cedric and Archie’s expressions varied through
different degrees of shock.

“Now that I’ve proven my point, what you want to do is market your potions to the entire
school, not just Ravenclaw house,” he began while Archie and Cedric listened intently, the
latter because he had never really heard one of Harry’s schemes before in person
“selling them won’t really be a problem with teenage hormones, they already screw like
rabbits anyway, your potion will just make them feel safer about it . . .”

“I was already considering it . . .” Archie began but was cut off by Harry once again.

“I know you were, which is why you’re an idiot,” as subtle as ever, Harry was.

Cedric frowned “Didn’t you just say . . .”

“I know what I said, but there are problems with that, the main one being that his
potion,” he pointed to Archie “will just encourage kids to have sex, probably at younger
ages too, which is pretty disgusting in my opinion considering I’ve heard about kids as
young as twelve being intimate in one way or another in some houses, but I digress,” he
said, seeing Archie’s worried look “it’s really no problem because his potion gives a one
hundred percent assurance that there will be no pregnancy, as long as he brewed it right
– which we all now know it is,” he added, glaring at Archie who puffed up in indignation
“so, your only problem is parents and teachers who disapprove of their children or
students going at it like horny rabbits at such a young age, which once again, isn’t your
fault. The parents and teachers should teach their daughters not to be sluts, but they
won’t see it that way because its human nature to blame others for your own mistakes,”
by now Cedric was simply looking at Harry owlishly, never having heard him speak so
much at once before while Archie was listening intently – it made sense!

“The only way around that problem is for you to stop selling the potion under your name,
setting up a dummy business with a false owner to do so instead, which shouldn’t be much
of a problem for you because I rather doubt you want to be known for selling guilt-free
sex potions anyway.”

“People will still link it back to me if I mysteriously stop selling them and someone else
comes on the market to do so instead,” Archie frowned while Harry nodded at his point.

“A fine point, but you won’t stop selling your contraceptive potions immediately, rather,
you’ll wait for ‘Practical Potions’ to knock you out of the market,” he pointed out while
Archie’s eyes lit up.

“I can also set up an owl ordering system, so that would make selling to other houses
pretty easy, I already have plenty of money from working at Moony Nights to buy some . . .”

“Indeed, but you’ll want to undercut your own price a bit by a few sickles too, which won’t
really matter much considering you’ll be selling that many more potions anyway” he pointed out

“Yeah, and that contraceptive potion thing was just a spur of the moment idea, I can
make so much more to sell, like Zit-curers, Hickey-menders, mild truth serums, and even
some Felix Felicis!” Archie pointed out with excitement.

Harry did a double take when the last one was mentioned “You can make Felix Felicis?” he ask

“Oh yeah, he can make elixirs too!” Cedric pointed out while Archie flushed in
embarrassment under Harry’s scrutiny.

“I may have dabbled in a little Alchemy and advanced potions . . .” he mumbled under his
breath.

“You know, I’m not too bad at brewing myself if you give me the instructions,” Cedric
added “I imagine if you get more help, you could even send some catalogues to other
school on the continent, I guess I can chip in and buy some more owls too to help for
those deliveries . . .”

Archie’s eyes lit up with excitement “And I won’t even have to quit my job at Moony
Nights, I can just ask Remus to work nights from now on and brew during the day!” he
pointed to Harry “that bum won’t help because he’s always busy with Quidditch or
learning his own thing, but we might be able to hire a few house elves if someone was
able to purchase us some . . .” Archie not so discreetly motioned to Harry.

“I’ll want twenty percent of all profits” he offered immediately, knowing a good idea
when he saw one.

“Ten,” Archie counter argued “you won’t even be helping with the brewing and that’s
going to be the toughest part!”

“House elves aren’t exactly cheap, and you’ll be using my premises to do you brewing
anyway, fifteen” he counter offered.
“Twelve percent and you’ll have the right to ask me to brew any potion for you, free of
charge, even if, ‘Practical Potions’ doesn’t sell it,” seeing Harry still looking rather
dubious, he sweetened the deal “and I won’t even bitch to you about Stephanie being
gone again!”

“Deal” Harry agreed immediately, that was definitely a good bargain.

“This is so awesome!” Archie bounced with excitement “I know where to pretty much get
every ingredient we’ll need at the cheapest prices! And if we buy them in bulk, we’ll get
awesome discounts; hey Cedric, you know where Moony Nights is, yeah?”

“I know where it is, I’ve never been though,” he conceded “my dad will be pleased to
know that I have a job, he’s been hounding me to get a summer job for a while now . . .”

“It’d be best not to tell him you’re helping Archie brew potions,” Harry pointed out “we
don’t want to leave any paper trails so we can be hassled for monopolizing the market,
or be hounded by annoyed parents, tell him you’ll be working at Moony Nights as a waiter
like Archie, that way you’ll have a reason to stay and brew whenever you want.”

“That’s right, you both live there yeah?” Cedric suddenly remembered.

“Yeah, but I hardly ever see him there anyway unless its meal time,” Archie shrugged
“he’s pretty much busy all the time and keeps himself locked in his room, oh wait, I did see
him go clothes shopping once last year!” he joked as Harry yawned.

“How else do you think I’d have become a father of thirty-four?” he responded dryly, “I
have to actually spend time in the bedroom for that to happen” Cedric and Archie both
laughed at his expense.

Harry figured that this summer break would be somewhat more eventful than the last,
especially with Nymphadora popping around all the time, a new business to start up, a
small library of information to read through, a godfather who will no doubt want to get to
know him, Quidditch practise, World cup qualifiers, a vampire to thank and a thousand
year old wizard’s portrait to interrogate – he definitely wouldn’t have much free time on
his hands . . .

Harry and Archie bid Cedric farewell at King’s Cross, the latter meeting his parents while
the former just skipped passed the awed whispers, finger pointing and diehard fan girls
King’s Cross had to offer.
“What in Merlin’s name?” Archie looked on with amusement when he saw an extremely
large billboard outside of King’s Cross station with the new ‘Coca-Cola’ add playing on it.
What he found amusing about it though was that it had Harry, in a very tight set of hot
pants, exiting the water of a beach and taking a long swig of a bottle of coke, there was
a voice speaking in the background of the add saying something about even Quidditch
stars and drinking coke.

“I get paid a lot of money for that,” Harry answered the unasked question, moving as
quickly as possible so he wouldn’t see the other school girls’ reaction to seeing that
particular billboard advertisement.

“Why would they put it in the middle of muggle London though? I doubt they know what
Quidditch is . . .” Archie asked as he followed behind Harry quickly until they found a taxi
and got inside.
“Robertson’s road please,” Harry requested of the driver “the billboard is charmed to
show something different for muggles, Steven Gerrard I believe.”

“And who’s that?”

“A football player for Liverpool,” Harry didn’t feel like explaining more “so, are you really
going to take this brewing business seriously? Because if you’re not, I really don’t want to
waste my time and money . . .”

“No, no, I am, don’t worry,” he assured “I’ve been mooching off of the Zabinis for long
enough, I think it’s about time I make my own way in the world, you know?”

“Is that why you got a job at Moony Nights then?” he asked curiously.

“Mainly,” he answered vaguely, Harry figured there may have been more to it, but
couldn’t be bothered figuring it out “so where are you going to buy House Elves from?
They don’t just have shops on Diagon Alley or something, do they?”

“No,” he answered “they don’t – you need to go to the Ministry and apply for ownership,
obviously some galleons will speed up the process a fair bit.”

“Seems like slave labour though, doesn’t it?” Archie asked with a frown “we don’t even
have to pay off the little buggers and they’re the best workers anyone could ever need . . .”

Harry shrugged “True enough, but if you treat them well and act like their friends instead
of their masters, they’ll work harder for you,” he answered “most people don’t get that,
so they just treat them like slaves. You know how much of the cooking Lizzy does for
Moony Nights, right?”

Archie snorted “Yeah, like all of it,” he quipped with amusement “how many do you plan on
getting? We could literally hit every school up on the continent with catalogues by the
end of summer, and by that time, I’d have brewed up a massive stockpile of whatever we
want to sell . . .”

Harry hummed thoughtfully, this really was brilliant idea. Archie’s skills at brewing didn’t
only restrict him to brewing difficult potions, it also allowed him to brew and prepare
ingredients at a freaky pace, faster than he ever could. That thought just reminded him of
the birthday present he had in mind for the boy as a thank-you for helping him out with all
that Azkaban rubbish.

“I’ll probably only get two, any more is overkill,” Harry informed “if the demand becomes
greater than the speed at which you can supply, I doubt I’ll need to buy you another one,
you’ll have the cash to buy your own.”

“You really think this will be that successful?” Archie asked doubtfully.

“Archades,” he began patiently “you know where to get nearly every marketable
ingredient in existence for the lowest price possible, add that with the fact that the
demand for potions like these are ridiculously high, you could literally charge whatever you
like as long as your customers are willing to pay – all you have to worry about is paying Cedric.

“This is so exciting,” Archie jumped in his seat, glad that Harry had put a notice-me-not
charm on the back seat of the taxi else they would have been breaking numerous secrecy
laws “I’m starting my own business, and all I need to do is do something I already love doing!”

“Hn,” Harry would never admit it out loud, but he was happy for his friend.

“Harry!” a voice called from the kitchen “What took you so damn long?!”
“Seeing as your lazy ass couldn’t pick us up from the station, Archades and I decided to
walk around Knockturn Alley for a bit to pass the time,” Harry really had no idea why the
two of them did this, it wasn’t like his time was something he could waste easily.

“Whatever, come out back!” Remus’ voice called through the doors. The request kind of
confused him seeing as the place looked of full at the moment, families eating together
after reuniting after a year of school, Goblins after a day of work, the werewolves who
lived here eating their dinner just to name a few.

Nodding a greeting to Lizzy, who was manning the bar while Remus was currently
indisposed; Harry pushed through the door into the kitchen and then exited the building
through the back to see a few people he didn’t expect to see so soon.

Sitting on a motorbike that looked like it was made in the late eighties was none other than a
still somewhat skeletal looking Sirius Black while Remus was sitting on his ‘break time’ chair
with none other than Nymphadora Tonks on his lap.

“What is that?” he asked with a curious tone, while Archie just gaped at the seemingly
new couple.

Sirius, who was wiping his bike down proudly hopped off of it and cleared his throat “This,
my estranged godson, is my baby,” Sirius introduced “her name’s ‘Delilah’ and she’s a
1986 Harley-Davidson XLH 1100, but that’s not all!”

Remus was frowning at the fact Harry was ignoring him, or more importantly ignoring
just who was sitting on his lap; he had been waiting to see that little brat’s reaction to
this for months!

“Good to see you again Tonks!” Archie greeted Tonks with a grin, he had seen her around
Harry and had said a few words to her at school, but that was ages ago “You look
comfortable,” he commented with a little grin.

“Charmed, you say?” Harry looked to the bike with interest while Sirius grinned.

“Oh yeah, Delilah runs on magic instead of petrol, she can also fly and she has muggle
notice-me-not charms all over her, your dad used to be so jealous of me when I would fly
it around!” he grinned “Speaking of which, when were you going to tell me you were an
international Quidditch star?! I can barely leave this place without hearing your name
being mentioned by at least thirty people in three minutes!”

“Yeah, well, Azkaban and all, I guess it slipped my mind,” he replied dryly.

“You still haven’t told us your reasoning behind that little stunt,” Remus interjected with a frown.

Harry turned to Remus and plastered a look of mock surprise on his features
“Nymphadora! When did you get here?”

Sirius was about to warn his godson against using her first name, but figured he’s learn
better by getting his ass hexed. Imagine his surprise when Harry bent over the moment
she fired a spell at him to pick something up off the floor.

“Oh, a Knut, it must be my lucky day . . .” he pocketed said coin.

“He conjured that the second we came out here,” Archie mumbled to Remus, who was
trying not to laugh at his girlfriend’s plight.

“When will you either stop dodging your punishments or stop calling meby my name pipsqueak

“Pipsqueak?” Harry frowned “I distinctly recall you getting a good perv on this
pipsqueak’s body when you interrupting his workout on Christmas Nymphadora.”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter while Archie just sighed and took a seat atop the rubbish
bin beside them “He does that with everyone Tonks, he still calls me Archades!”

“He’s right, you best get over it,” Harry advised as Archie snickered.

Tonks sent another stinging hex at Harry for good measure, hoping to catch him off
guard, but to her annoyance, he merely flicked the Knut in his hand in the way of the
spell, which caused a small blast of light before redirecting the spell away from him.

“Well, that was just cool,” Archie complimented “so, is anyone going to tell me why a well
known murderer is sitting on a motorbike over there giggling like a girl and out of Ministry
custody?”

“I do not giggle like a girl! It’s a manly giggle!” Sirius protested.

“Professor Dumbledore escorted him to the ministry for a questioning under Veritaserum, I
believe you already know what happened after that Harry,” Remus explained with a
smile “we’ve been catching up ever since, apologizing, reminiscing and showing Pensieve
memories . . .”

“Did you give him shit for being a cradle robber?” Harry asked Sirius with a grin, earning a
loud noise of protest from Remus and Tonks. Sirius conspiratorially pulled Harry aside with
his arm over his shoulder and whispered into his ear loudly.

“I tried, but the more I say it, the more I realize who wears the pants in that relationship
– Remus isn’t a cradle robber, ickle Dora is just a grave robber.”

“That or a gold digger,” Archie piped in, ignoring the gaping couple beside them.

“It makes sense, that apron does suit Moony quite a bit,” Harry commented offhandedly
“you think she uses her powers to, you know, switch the roles a bit?”

“Harry, that’s just disgusting,” Sirius said with a fake grimace.

“Yeah, I was never a fan of sodomization,” Harry agreed sagely.

“That’s not an issue, Remus has a completely functional vagina,” Archie joked while he and
Sirius cracked up laughing; Harry was merely smirking at the fuming couple.

“I love this kid! You say your name is Archie right? I’m Sirius, Sirius Black” the ex-con introduce

“Pleasure,” Archie shook the man’s hand “Remus and Tonks’ privates aside, what in
Merlin’s name is that?!” Archie asked, referring to Delilah.

Sirius began giving a lengthy description of what a motorbike was, leaving Remus, Tonks
and Harry to watch on in silence.

“Harry, you can joke and avoid the topic all you want, but I can tell your time in Azkaban
affected you more than you’re letting us know . . .” Remus commented with concern.

“If it’s the Dementors affecting me you were worried about, you can rest assured
knowing that aside from practically almost freezing me to death, they were pretty much
useless.”

“Something’s off with you Harry, even I notice it,” Tonks said with worry while Harry
shrugged it off.

“I’m fine, I have a meeting to attend to in a few hours, I’m going to get ready,” Harry
announced, all traces of humour from his voice gone as he silently made his way back inside.

Tonks gave Remus a worried glance that was reciprocated by the werewolf.

“Don’t worry about Harry, he’s a strong kid and he knows what he’s doing,” Remus tried
to comfort his girlfriend, knowing how fond she was of the boy “his determination to get
things done borderlines recklessness, but he did come out of it twenty million galleons richer
. . .” Remus tried to reason, he was shocked however to see that Tonks wasn’t surprised
by the number at all.

“That place is hell Remus, I’ve been there as a guest and I couldn’t wait to leave the
place, imagine staying there for three weeks, let alone ten years . . . Azkaban changes
people . . . it wasn’t worth it.”

The duo watched Sirius explain the functions of a motorbike to an excited Archie, as if he
were a toddler showing off his new Christmas present, unable to hide their worry very
well even if they tried.

“I’m going out,” Harry called as he walked hurriedly down the stairs while swinging a coat
over his shoulders.
“It’s midnight!” Remus argued, annoyed.

“The people expecting me aren’t exactly the type to enjoy the day time very much,”
Harry deadpanned.

“Oh, you’re going to see Lestat?” Remus asked interested “I thought he lived in France?”

“He does, I’m taking the Floo to the International port and then getting a connecting one
to his manor, I’m keyed into the wards,” he explained.

“Do you have your passport?” Remus could have sworn he saw a hint of a black dragon
hide leather vest under Harry’s coat . . .

‘Wait, aren’t they dragon hide pants and boots too?!’ he thought, looking at Harry’s
clothing more closely.

“I do, but I won’t need it, I’m kind of a big deal,” he said with a grin.
“Is there a reason you’re dressed for battle?” Remus asked, with a look in his eyes that
clearly stated that he better like the answer he was going to get. Imagine his surprise
when Harry suppressed a shiver.

“Have you ever met Lestat’s wife?”

“No,” Remus answered “does that matter?”

“Pray that you don’t,” Harry advised “she’s a nice enough vamp, but she’s come to see
me as some sort of illegitimate son over the years, do you have any idea how bad a
mother hen with super-human strength is?”

Remus winced in sympathy, thinking of a certain Weasley in particular.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked with concern.

“I have plan, it should work . . .” he paused on his way to the fireplace with a grimace on
his features.

“And should it not?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” Harry confessed.

Harry grabbed a handful of Floo powder from behind the bar and threw it into the
fireplace, his destination being France.

Harry appeared in a whirl of flames inside Lestat’s manor after having just arrived from
the international Floo exchange agency. It was kind of like a customs office in a muggle
airport that checked your possessions before you crossed into another country’s
territory, so that no one could smuggle anything in illegally.
“Harry, how good to see you,” Lestat greeted in French, having been alerted by his
wards that Harry had arrived.

“Likewise,”he replied in kind, using his wand to magic the soot off of his clothes“they
didn’t even ask for my passport at the exchange” he commented with a smirk.

“Not surprising, have you eaten?” he led Harry through his large house after he was done
cleaning himself.

“No, not yet, but something smells good,” he complimented “how did the conclave go? No
troubles I hope?” he asked conversationally.

“You know I can’t answer that unless you become one of us, the offer still stands by the
way,” he grinned while Harry shrugged.

“Lucile is already bad enough as is, and if I let you turn me, she would actually technically
be my mother, and no offence meant, but that woman . . .”

Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the evil grin on Lestat’s face. Suddenly, he
felt a chill run down his spine when someone’s cold breath blew against the nape of his neck.

“That woman is what, Harry?” a voice purred in French behind him “Don’t stop on my account.”

Harry turned slowly and stiffly to come face to face with the ruby red lips of Lucile
d'Auvergne. She was looking as beautiful as always, dressed in an elegant, black and
skin-tight evening dress that while simple in design, accentuated all her curves and
features perfectly. Her violet eyes were peering down at him with amusement and Harry
couldn’t help but admire her beauty once again, he figured that if he had to spend
eternity with someone as his spouse, he too would pick the best looking woman he could find.

One with a great personality . . .

He couldn’t stop himself from admiring her wondrous personality as his eyes were locked
on Lucile’s more than generous sized breasts, barely being constrained by her dress.

Such a wonderful personality . . .

He was interrupted from his less than appropriate thoughts when the millennium old
vampire coughed to get his attention, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Now that you’re done perving Harry, are you going to tell me what you were going to
say?” she asked in a throaty and sweet voice that would have lesser men confessing
their deepest desires.

“What makes you think you’d be interested?” Harry asked, after regaining his composure
“I was merely commenting to Lestat here how lucky he is to have such a strong-willed
woman by his side to keep him in check, isn’t that right Lestat . . .”

Harry turned to see that his host had mysteriously disappeared.

“Motherfucker . . .”

“Tut, tut Harry, such crude language, now, do you mind telling what that stunt you pulled
by allowing yourself to be taken to Azkaban was about?” she asked sweetly, a long and
slender finger running down his cheek as she asked “you wouldn’t purposefully do
something so stupid would you? I’d hate to have to discipline you again . . .” she trailed
off, leaving Harry in no doubt that some sort of discipline would be handed out.

Harry had prepared for this though, and he’d be dammed if he let himself be ‘disciplined’ so
easily.

“Blast-Ended Skrewts,” Harry interrupted the woman in English as she was advancing on
him, Lucile merely looked to him in confusion “Let us not, dear Lucile, forget our dear
friends the Blast-Ended Skrewts, revolting little creatures, the lot of them. Let them go
unattended for long enough, and they’ll explode in your face, messing you up real good,
fact of life, isn’t it?”

Lucile was torn between pounding Harry into the ground for his stupidity and enveloping
him in a huge hug to comfort him – obviously Azkaban had sent him over the edge.

“So yes, I could have found a way around being arrested with the information Lestat and
yourself so generously gave me, and then he’d know he has a leak for the next time he
plots against me. Not nipping his scheming in the bud and allowing him to come up with
another plan to have me rot in Azkaban for the rest of my life sounds rather shitty no
matter which way you put it.”

Lucile didn’t look convinced, but that didn’t stop Harry.

“Or we could do what you so naïvely suggested and just kill off the dastardly duo,” he had
to sidestep quickly as Lucile lunged at him “that would only lead to me being arrested
anyway seeing as Fudge would have been known to be ‘investigating’ me at the time of
his death, add to that a Veritaserum interrogation, and we’d have a war between
wizards and vampires on our hands! Can we, in fact, ignore that the ministry is filled with
bigoted idiots who would never see reason? We cannot.

Res ipsa loquitur, tabula en naufragio, we are left with but one option. I had to, and I
can’t believe the words are coming out of my mouth, rely on Archades to clear my name
for me, thus proving the injustice Fudge was committing legally, getting a shit load of
galleons from Malfoy and nipping any further plots in the bud.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief when Lucile actually seemed to be pondering his words – his
speech actually worked!

“A very well thought out argument Harry, I especially like the Latin reference” she
complimented, before her smile turned into a glare as she sauntered over to him “but you
deliberately allowed yourself to be held in custody in Azkaban, knowing you could swindle
more galleons out of Malfoy that way – for that bit of stupidity, you will be punished.”

Well fuck, time for ‘Plan B’ . . .

Almost quicker than Lucile could follow, Harry slipped his wand into his hand and conjured
a cloud of mist to cover his tracks before running for it as if the devil was on his heels,
well, she kind of was . . .

“You know that will only delay the inevitable darling,” Lucile cooed, her voice seemed to
echo off every wall in the house, Harry hated when she did that “you’re just getting me
excited, you know I love a good hunt . . .”

Lestat waited patiently with a smile on his face in his office as his wife chased Harry
around their manor. He’s probably be worried if Lucile were chasing anybody else, but he
knew she had a soft spot for the boy and only wanted to rough him up a little, he kind of
deserved it anyway.
This whole mess with Lucile’s twisted motherly affections for the Quidditch star began the
very first time Harry had graced their manor with his presence, several months before the
big Poker game at Gringotts to discuss the possibility of obtaining Slytherin’s diary. Harry
had, somewhat reluctantly, informed his beloved wife his reasoning behind his actions
and about his mother’s condition.

Perhaps it was the fact that they’d never had children, or maybe because she was
feeling somewhat hormonal at the time, but something about his story caused Lucile’s
‘motherly’ senses to go into overdrive. She’d begun treating him like her child ever since,
well, sort of, if you consider smothering him with hugs and kisses when he visited or
hunting him around their manor when he did something stupid.

He had never thought Lucile would have had reason to be more pissed off than when
Harry had pulled off a rather daring stunt in his game against Burkina Faso – he was wrong.

It always did provide him with an infinite sense of amusement to see Harry try and
swindle his way out of her affections, or disciplinary actions though.

Good times.
He was rudely interrupted from his thoughts when Harry came bursting through the door,
looking all sweaty and panicked.

“Hide me!” he hissed when his eyes fell on Lestat.

“Oh Harry, come out come out wherever you are . . .” a chilling voice echoed from all
around them.

Lestat raised an amused eyebrow when Harry dived behind him, hoping to use himas a
human shield.

The doors suddenly opened slowly and deliberately, allowing Lucile entrance, who looked
like she had just been strolling casually around the manor for the past half an hour. The
deadly look in her eyes, however, promised pain to her target, he wondered what Harry
could have done to warrant such a thing this time.

“Something the matter dear?” Lestat asked while trying to keep a smirk off his face.

“You’d best move out of the way, my love, I need to teach that little pervert some
manners,” Lucile instructed her husband in her throaty voice.

“Pervert?” the vampire inquired with interest.

“I most certainly am not,” Harry leapt up from his hiding place with indignation written on
his features “it’s her fault for smothering me with her massive boobs! I just tried to
breathe!” he argued futilely “complications ensued, and hence, were overcome!”

“You still licked my breast Harry, and that right is reserved only for my husband,” she
admonished with a wicked grin “isn’t that right, my love?”

“I’m afraid she has a point Harry,” Lestat agreed “did you at least enjoy it?”

Harry just glared at Lestat with slightly pink cheeks “That is hardly relevant, you traitor!”

“Sticks and stones,” Lestat waved off “Come Lucile, that is the closest you’ll ever get to
breast feeding young Harry, you should be overjoyed; now, shall we move this show onto
the dining hall?” he grinned at his wife’s overjoyed expression “I am rather famished.”

“Did you hear that Harry?” she smirked with that sexy grin Harry loved and hated at the
same time “he thinks that’s the closest I’ll get to breast feeding you, do you want to
prove him wrong?”

She never got an answer to her question as Harry quickly followed Lestat out the door,
Lucile’s throaty laughter following him.

“Did your plans at least prove somewhat fruitful?” Lestat asked contently as he pushed
his dinner plate away from him.
From a few meters down the long, rectangular table, Harry finished chewing the pork
that had been served before answering “Why do I get the feeling you already know the
answer anyway?” he asked with a raised brow. All he got as an answer was an amused
grin while Lucile actually looked out of the loop.

“Humour me,” Lestat prompted.

“Aside from several dozen tomes in Parsel, all written by Slytherin?” Harry asked “I may
have found a portrait that was a little miffed at the killing of his pet beast and yearned
for freedom.”

“So Salazar did leave a portrait of himself,” Lestat said to himself more than anyone else
with a faraway look“That’s interesting . . .”

“Did he say anything important?” Lucile questioned now curious more than anything.

“Nothing really,” Harry answered vaguely.

“Oh?” Lestat asked with a grin, breaking out of his trance “nothing about something that
would help your mother?” he seemed to know more than he let on “nothing about a
particular elixir that would cure most illnesses, both known and unknown, should someone
be able to brew it?”

Harry shrugged, though on the inside, he truly wondered how much Lestat actually knew
“He might have mentioned it.”

“If you don’t mind,” Lestat began “might I advise that after you have read up on the actual
elixir itself, you focus primarily on warding and curse-breaking with Parsel magic?”

Harry swirled his wine glass around in his hand and watched the red wine swirl around
silently. He normally wasn’t a drinker of alcohol, but when a vampire offers you eight
hundred year old wine, you wouldn’t really refuse. Lestat and Lucile waited patiently for
his reaction.

“I don’t mind,” Harry answered “you may suggest what you like,” he put his glass down on
the table after taking a sip and looked Lestat right in the eye “what I would like to know is why?”

“Your quest for knowledge is a secret to no one Harry,” he answered with faux surprise “I
figured you would be delighted to learn about ancient and now unused magics.”

“Don’t worry yourself about what I’m going to do,” Harry waved off “I’ve known what
course of action I’ll take with the Parsel tomes and Slytherin ever since I got them,” he
clarified “what I want to know is why you think I would need such knowledge, which I
guess, ties into the question, what exactly do you know that you seem so intent on
hiding from me?”

Lestat and Lucile both dropped their act as their smirks left their faces leaving them a
mask of neutrality. Harry didn’t let this faze him though; he merely met their gazes, not
willing to back down.

“Tell me Harry, what do you think of the schooling in this day and age?”Lestat asked
curiously, though Harry knew the question would have some kind of relevance to his own.

“To your question, I would answer simply ‘what schooling?’” was his simple reply; Lucile
seemed to be pleased with it though.

“Indeed,” Lestat stared down at his own glass of blood “the Wizarding world as we know
it has become weak,” he continued to speak “and all manner of magical creatures are
either forces to live as outcasts or savages,” this seemed to pique Harry’s interest “were
we ever to come under attack, I fear we, as a world, would not last very long.”
Harry hated these ominous speeches Lestat would give to him from time to time; they
made him feel insignificant, like a single ant in a large forest.

“These days, children are more concerned with having fun than furthering their skills,”
Lestat looked over to Lucile who had taken the reigns of the conversation “Politicians are
more concerned with lining their pockets with gold and bettering their public image, and
the magical creature communities are too full of pride,” she went on solemnly “I am sure
my husband has told you on more than one occasion that dark times are coming, the
question really is if the world is ready to weather the storm. . .”

“It is Unfortunate Harry,” Lestat took over once again “that we have been bound by
blood oaths to not reveal the information that our seers have seen, we do not speak in
riddles to merely annoy you – were it my choice, I’d tell you everything in a second”
Lestat said with what looked like actual remorse “all Lucile and I can ask from you is to,
when the time comes, and you’ll know what I’m talking about when it actually does, to do
what you think must be done.”

Harry sat in silence, pondering their words with his hands interlocked in front of his mouth
and his eyes closed. Suddenly, after several more moments, Harry stood up from his
chair and bowed slightly to Lestat.

“I think you for having me for dinner Lestat, but I need to leave, you’ve given me much to
think about,” he then rounded the table and kissed Lucile’s cheek “I’ll be over later in the
week so we can continue our sparring, its unfortunate we can’t continue our little lessons.”

“Unfortunate indeed, little one,” she said warmly, not in the teasing tone she used on him
earlier “it has been so long since I’ve had a skilled swordsman to refine my skills against,
Lestat was always woeful at the art.”

The vampire in question merely scoffed “I’ll let the peons fight for me, I don’t see any need
to lift a sword myself,” he joked, though he knew his skills weren’t that bad, it’s just that
his wife’s far exceeded his own.

“I’ll see myself out, I know Lucile is only waiting for me to get on the other side of that
door before she pounces you anyway,” Harry joked, Lestat didn’t even have time to think
on his words, for immediately after he said them, the dining room door closed with a soft click.

Harry smirked when he heard a loud crash come from the dining room the second he left it.
Lucile was a crazy woman indeed.
Chapter: 18
Chapter 19: Rat Hunt

Harry awoke in his bedroom with a groan, his vision blurred and his head throbbing for
reasons not pertaining to his spectacles sitting innocently on his nightstand. Every breath
he took seemed to only increase the throbbing sensation; it was at such a level that if
there was any sound being made in his room, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hear it.

Flicking his wrist, finding that every action he performed only caused the throbbing in his
head to increase, he drew his wand (which is attached to the holster on his wrist at all
times) and cast a silent summoning charm to call the silver flask sitting on his bathroom
sink to him.

The action, unfortunately, wasn’t as successful as he would have liked. Apparently, the
axe that was firmly lodged in the back of his skull hindered his concentration a little,
making casting almost impossible, forget about silent casting . . .

Flicking his wrist again, he shakily got up from his bed, grabbing his spectacles from
where he remembered he placed them, and stumbled towards the bathroom. His vision was
filled with large blurs and a whole array of colours he couldn’t make sense of while his head
felt like his brain was being forcibly ripped apart while two, super loud, speakers were
stuck on the side of his head and sending a continuous thumping sound into his eardrums.

Felling for what he knew to be the doorway to his bathroom, he pushed the open door
violently out of his way and stumbled to the sink. Resting his hands on the basin, he felt
around the sink for the silver flask he knew would make this pain go away – this was the
last time he’d go to sleep with that damn flask so far away from him.

Finally, his hand made contact with a cool, heavy and metallic object, roughly the size of
his wallet, not too far from the basin. Unscrewing the silver lid, he put the flask to his
mouth and took a gulp of the thick and salty liquid within.

The effects began to take effect rather slowly, but it was noticeable. At first, his vision
began to clear up while the throbbing in his head remained, but slowly, the massive
throbbing began to disappear while after his vision was returned to normal.

Harry exhaled loudly and looked at his reflection in the mirror, completely naked save for a
pair of boxer briefs. Sure, his body remained physically in tact, and he didn’t experience
nightmares due to prolonged exposure to the Dementor’s mood sucking aura, but that
didn’t mean he left the prison unscathed.

“That’s why Occlumency is a Ministry regulated art of Magic I guess . . .” and indeed, it
was. There was only one way to stop a Dementor from penetrating your mental
defences and sucking all the good thoughts out of your mind, and that was to erect a
strong barrier around it using Occlumency while clearing your mind of all thoughts and emotion

There was one problem with that however, while it did stop the horrific, nightmare
inducing images the Dementors got off on showing their prey, it did put massive amounts
of strain on one’s mind. Three and a half weeks of reinforcing his mental defences with
his own magic while the hellish creatures relentlessly slammed against them with the
subtlety of a battering ram didn’t do much to help his situation.

Luckily, the first attack occurred during his check-up with his personal Medi-wizard at
Saint Mungo’s – provided by the English Quidditch association, of course - after his
release. The magical doctor had quickly given him a potion and grilled him as to what
exactly happened during his stay in Azkaban.

Apparently, he had contracted a self-imposed magical malady called ‘Dolorius

Occlumathornia’, which basically meant that without his medication, he’d have a
constant, severe migraine. It occurred when one channelled too much magic around their
brains for prolonged periods of time.

A disease that infected his mind . . . his most prized and valued possession.

He would get Fudge and Malfoy back if it was the last thing he did, right after robbing
them of every galleon they owned first.

Fortunately, so long as he took his medication three times a day, he’d never have to
worry about the symptoms . . . unfortunately, he was a busy kid with a lot of things on
his mind, remembering to take his medicine wasn’t always on the top of that list.

So long as nobody found out about this weakness though, everything would be okay.
There may be no cure known to the Medi-wizards and witches of the world, but none of
them knew much of Parsel magic’s healing abilities either.

He would not allow anyone to use this against him . . .

“Speaking of Parsel magic . . .” he mumbled under his breath before quickly getting
dressed, pocketing his silver flask, and heading to his study. The room looked very much
the same as it did at Christmas save for one key difference, on the wall opposite his
bookshelves between two large columns hung the portrait of a sleeping Salazar Slytherin.

“Wake up, Salazar” Harry hissed, his voice not noticeably loud, but it did reach the
founder’s ears.

The founder started at the unfamiliar voice before levelling a glare at the boy currently
standing on the other side of the room, his back to him, looking over his newest collection
of tomes.

“Mind your manners, boy” he hissed irritably “what is so important that you decide to
interrupt my sleep?”

“I need you tell me which of the unnamed tomes contains all the healing magic you
described to me,” he asked “you do remember which one it is, don’t you?”

“Don’t get coy with me, boy. Find out for yourself, I see no profit in it for me to tell you
such a thing,” he said, annoyance clearly lacing his tone.

“I suppose you can find your own history books within that portrait of yours then, I’m
sorry I wasted your time,” Harry quipped without missing a beat, earning a growl from
the founder.

“Charm them so I may interact with them on voice commands,” he shot back “or I will tell
you nothing.”
“I will charm the oldest one I own first, to prove I can,” Harry counter offered “You will
then tell me which of the tomes is the one I seek, I will then charm the rest to behave as
you have requested and leave you in peace.”

Slytherin seemed to consider his offer for several moments before reluctantly nodding
“Your terms are agreeable, get to it then.”

Harry walked over to a different bookshelf and levitated a dozen thick tomes from its
confines before letting them down before Slytherin. Harry had anticipated the man would
want to catch up on the times, so he made sure to collect both muggle and magical tomes
on events that occurred over the past thousand years, knowing he would request it
eventually anyway.

Using a spell he had recently learned to cut down on his study time, Harry waved his
wand expertly over the tome depicting the oldest events and set it before the portrait.

Salazar eyed the boy with a calculating gleam before turning to the book sitting
innocently on the small table below his portrait.

“Rise,” he spoke normally this time, knowing it wouldn’t react to Parseltongue. The book,
recognizing the command, floated up from its position on the table and rotated so its
front cover was facing him, its title clear and visible.

“Open,” he spoke again, lo and behold, the cover swung open, showing Slytherin one
blank page and another with the picture of the author and several other
non-consequential details. He experimented with several more commands before nodding
in approval.

“I see now why you are one of Rowena’s own,” Harry wasn’t sure whether that was a
compliment or not “you lived up to your end of the deal, it is now time for me to do mine
– seventh book from the right, the fourth shelf from the bottom. It is in there you will
find what you seek, you should know though, that is the only tome in that collection that I
did not write myself. . .”

“Aesculapius?”Harry interrupted, trying not to sound hopeful. Salazar merely responded

with a glare.

“His son, Machaon, but he was taught by his father, no doubt,” he informed “A very well
respected healer in his own right, just like his siblings.”

Harry nodded his head in thanks before going over and pulling out the book in question
from the shelf. Flipping through it to see if it was the right one, Harry discovered that it
indeed was before charming the rest of the history books he obtained for Salazar to
respond to his demands.

He left his study without a backwards glance; he had some reading to do.

Sirius was very much enjoying his newfound freedom, though, the distinct lack of time
being spent with his godson was always something that served to damper his mood. He
couldn’t really do much about that though; the boy had a life of his own, a rather busy
and interesting one at that.
In fact, it was that life in particular that lead the occupants of Moony Nights into their
current situation. Remus and Archie had pointed out, rather warily, that Harry would not
like this at all. He couldn’t possibly understand why, I mean, dozens of girls – hot ones at
that! – arriving in groups to spend time with the said the Quidditch star, each of them
sitting with their own friends at separate tables and ordering up a storm from the bar.

“At least its good for business,” Remus had commented when he opened that morning,
only to see the line of girls waiting to come in for breakfast. Archie had to don his apron
to help Remus keep up with his tenants, regulars and new customers, something he still
wouldn’t stop grumbling about.

It was confusing though, Sirius mused; he was lead to believe that aside from some close
friends, business associates and Goblins, no one was supposed to know that the ‘Harry’
living here was ‘Harry Potter, Quidditch star’. Somehow, that information was leaked and
the girls just started coming, that and some die-hard Quidditch fans looking for autographs.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was shocked and a little jealous, that women closer
to his age were arriving to get a peek at his godson.

“Stupid, slow acting nutrient potions,” Sirius mumbled as he pinched the saggy skin on his
bicep. If only the potions Archie had given him to drink every morning would work faster,
he wouldn’t need a reason to be jealous. He’d reel these beautiful fish in using his godson
as a lure, it was beautiful and the ultimate bonding experience.

Sirius was starting to get worried though, he knew that Harry had apparently come home
late last night after some visit to France, but it was two in the afternoon and there was
still no sigh of his godson.

“Is this normal?” he asked from his stool on the bar, Remus was working furiously behind
it, preparing drinks for their customers.

“Care to elaborate Padfoot?” Remus asked with narrowed eyes while balancing several
pints of Butterbear on a tray, ready for delivery.

“Pronglset, I haven’t seen him all day,” it looked like Harry’s fans were starting to think
the same thing, wondering if perhaps the information on his whereabouts was just some
cruel joke.

“He’ll be down soon,” Archie piped up from behind the bar, he was cleaning the pints that
Lizzy would collect and return to him “he has training in about half an hour and he hasn’t
eaten yet, oh, there he is. . .”

Sirius swivelled around in his chair to see his godson dressed quite plainly in a tight black
tee-shirt, a pair of grey track pants and a pair of chucks covering his feet, with a bag
being held over his shoulder. The boy stopped dead at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide
as he looked down at the dining area full of squealing fan-girls.

“Hey Potter, you come for some lunch?” Archie yelled loudly, much to the boy’s shock,
causing several fans to nearly develop whiplash as they turned to the direction of the
stairs. Harry turned an icy glare to his friend who was grinning smugly at him from his
position behind the bar “Stop him, he’s gonna get away!” Archie yelled, causing Harry’s
glare to increase – that was the plan. . .

“Harry, can I have a picture?!” one girl screamed above the rest as excited chatter broke
out in the inn, the volume increasing steadily as everyone tried to talk over each other.

“Harry, will you be my boyfriend?!”

“Will you sign my broom?”

“Can I have one of your babies?!”

That last one freaked Harry out a bit, the woman looked to be in her late twenties . . .

Quickly assessing the situation, Harry spotted his goal, the fireplace, on the other side of
the room, the bowl of Floo powder sitting innocently on the mantle. The only problem was
the throng of people in his way starting from the bottom of the stairs he was currently
descending and reaching back to the other side of the large dining room – he could tell
the regulars were rather annoyed by the spectacle.

Harry needed to create a distraction, and he needed to create one quickly – they were
slowly advancing on him and climbing the stairs.

“Look, Voldemort!” he yelled, pointing to the door. Nearly everyone in the room, Remus
included, dived for cover giving Harry the time he needed to jump over the railing and
grab onto the wall-mounted lamp, before dropping gracefully to the floor. Harry sprinted
passed the crowd of people as fast as he could, sending a quick hex in Archie’s direction,
before grabbing a pinch of Floo powder and diving into the fireplace; he was gone in a
flash of green flames, not without one last message however:

“You’re such a dickhead sometimes Archades!”

Archie rose from his position behind the bar with a smug grin on his face “Serves him right
for making me wait up and not telling me where he was going last night.”

Sirius promptly fell off his chair laughing at the sight of Archie, or more particularly, what
was on his forehead.

“When he called you a dickhead,” Sirius managed to get out between raspy heckles “he
wasn’t kidding!”

Archie’s face scrunched up in confusion until he felt an odd weight on his forehead,
forcing his eyebrows to stay in a permanent frown.

“Oh no he didn’t. . .”

Sirius was still rolling on the floor laughing, holding his sides in pain from laughing so hard
while Remus himself was chuckling quietly.

“Why don’t we go out back and I can take care of that for you?” Tonks asked out of
nowhere, causing Sirius to stop laughing and Archie to look at her incredulously.

“When the hell did you get here?” Sirius demanded, though more curious than upset.
Archie’s reaction was noticeably different.

Archie ran to one of the mirrored walls behind the bar to stare at his reflection, and
when he saw it, his face was frozen in one of shock, for on his forehead, was a rather
limp, and wrinkly penis.
A girlish scream of horror startled most of the occupants of the bar out of their state of
fright, having dived under tables and behind walls when their hero had spotted the dark lord.

“Get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off,” Archie was
bashing furiously at his forehead while trying to pull the offending appendage from its
new home.

“Careful now Archie,” Tonks said with humour “any more than two tugs and that’s
considered playing with yourself!”

Archie rounded on her with narrowed eyes “Something you picked up from last night’s
shenanigans, Nymphadora?!”

Now Harry might be able to get away with using her name like that, mainly because he
scared the shit out of Tonks on a good day – Archie had no such intimidation qualities, nor
the skill to back them.

The customers of Moony Nights were, needless to say, mentally scarred when they saw
Archie running and diving away from Tonks, the penis on his forehead thwacking painfully
against his face with every step he took.

To say Thomas Redbridge was a little shocked to see his star chaser stumble out of the
Floo terminal outside their teams changing rooms was like saying Albus Dumbledore only
slightly liked his candy.

“What in Merlin’s name happened to you Harry?” flabbergasted at the boy’s appearance.

“Somehow, my adoring fans found out where I lived coach,” he replied dryly “A word of
advice, throwing around Voldemort’s name is a killer distraction . . .”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Redbridge said with a frown “you know as a part of your contract,
you’re obligated to at least sign a few autographs when you appear in public” he reminded
crossly.

Harry looked to the man in shock as he asked “How is my home considered public?”

“It’s open to the general public, and is thus, falls under said category in the contract you
signed,” he reminded Harry “I’ll let you off this time though because you would have
probably been late for training if you stayed and signed autographs . . .”

“Why do you care?” Harry looked incredulous “As long as I play well, what difference does
it make if I sign some photos or not?”

“Harry,” Redbridge began with exasperation “being nice to the fans reflects well on the
team, and if the public looks to us in a better light, we’ll sell more merchandise and tickets
to games,” he reminded “it’s all in your contract, if you cared to read it thoroughly.”

“What? Two hundred thousand people aren’t enough?” he said, referring to the numbers
they had pulled in their last game against Brazil.

“Go in the changing rooms, the Doc is waiting in there to give you a physical,” the coach
ordered, and though Harry felt like objecting, he knew it would be futile. He’d do the same
thing in his position, he mused.

“Is it Allison or Borislava?” he asked warily, as his coach chuckled.

“Don’t worry boyo, its Allison,” he affirmed as Harry let out a sigh of relief “Borislava has
the night off, I don’t know why you’re complaining though, she’s one of the best
physiotherapists in the world.”

“I don’t want anyone with the name Borislava touching my testicles,” Harry shouted over
his shoulder as Redbridge shoved him through the door of the changing rooms where
Allison Heart was waiting for him.

“I’m honoured you would reserve such a privilege for me, Mister Potter,” Allison Heart,
the young and very beautiful black haired, grey eyed doctor drawled sarcastically.

“Now, now Allison, we both know this isn’t necessary, so if you’ll just tick all those boxes,
we can save ourselves a lot of time,” he tried, and failed, to dissuade her from her task.

“Doctor Heart,” she replied sternly.

“No. . .” Harry said with a frown “my name’s Harry, you’re Allison; now that we know my
memory is fine, can we just end this please?”

Allison sent him a disapproving frown, ignoring the informal way he referred to her for
right now, before motioning to his clothes.

“I’m going to need you to strip and sit up on that bed there,” she ordered while preparing
her tools.

“You’re not one to mince words then,” Harry grinned “I was thinking we could grab a coffee
first. . .”

“Now Mister Potter,” she ordered impatiently. The grin on Harry’s face vanished only to
be replaced by a cold glare.

“And should I refuse?” the Doctor rose an eyebrow in amusement, which quickly turned
into a frown when she noticed Harry had his wand covertly pointed at her.

“Put that wand away Mister Potter before you hurt yourself,” she threatened, though
she was annoyed to see Harry gave off not even the slightest signs of being intimidated.

“I have a better idea,” Harry quickly sent a wordless disarming curse at her and snatched
the shocked Medi-witch’s wand from out of the air “you give me a vow of secrecy
concerning anything you may find so long as it will not affect my playing ability, and I will
allow you to conduct your physical – if you find something that will hamper my abilities,
you can do what you want, anything else, you’re forbidden to say a word about to anyone . . .”

“That’s absurd!” she glared heatedly at him “I will not be bullied by some student into not
performing my duties . . .”

“This is not a negotiation,” he matched her glare with one of his own “it’s the way things
will be, will you cooperate Allison?”

She sent him one last withering glare, but nodded reluctantly as a blue glow surrounded
her and Harry, solidifying the vow of secrecy.

“Good,” Harry handed her wand back to the surprised doctor “do what you must and be
quick about it; I have a training session to get to.”

Allison had him strip naked before she started her examination. Everything seemed normal
until she reached the neurological exam. Performing a scan on the stony Harry’s brain,
she was shocked by what she found.

“What in Merlin’s name . . .” she mumbled under her breath as she continued to examine
his brain with her diagnostic spell. She then noticed the silver flask by the rest of his
clothes, moving quickly, she snatched up the flask and sniffed at the potion within,
though she found the quick movements unnecessary as Harry didn’t try to stop her.

“You have Dolorius Occlumathornia?” she asked incredulously “wait a minute . . .” she
mumbled under her breath as she examined his eyes closely before frowning “no sign of
sleep deprivation as is common amongst people who spend any amount of time in
Azkaban,” she assessed “then how did you . . . oh sweet Merlin, you used Occlumency to
shield yourself from their effects for the whole month . . .” her voice was soft and laced
with pity as she traced lines around his cranium with her delicate fingers “no wonder you
didn’t want anyone knowing, something like this, the scandal it would cause . . .”

Harry swatted her hands away from his head, his glare never leaving her “Are we done?”

She frowned and looked over her notes “Aside from that, you seem perfectly normal,
better than normal, I’d say, judging from the results of your last physical,” she assessed
“how often do you have to take the medicine?”

“Twice a day,” he answered smoothly.

“Do you have enough of the potion?” she motioned towards the flask as Harry nodded.

“Plenty, the doc at Saint Mungo’s provided me with more than enough.”

She seemed hesitant for a moment before nodding “As long as you promise to take the
medicine twice a day, you’re free to go,” she paused, looking like she wanted to say
something “before I graduated from Healer school, I did a thesis on Dolorius
Occlumathornia, I discovered that in severe cases, like yours, the patient can suffer from
brain damage unless there’s a cure found . . .”

Harry didn’t say anything; this was nothing new to him.

“You have three years, four maximum before your brain melts down in your skull,
according to my research of course, I could be wrong . . .”

Harry’s features remained stony on the outside, but on the inside, his mind was travelling
at a million miles a second; that piece of information was new to him. One thought was
racing through his mind at that moment:

‘I should have asked for more than twenty million. . .’

Harry arrived home in a flash of green flames later that evening, under the disguise of a
glamour charm, to see Sirius, Archie and Cedric talking animatedly at one of the many
booths provided. Harry took a generous sip from his flask before making his way over to
the trio; he idly noticed that there were more customers than usual, probably a result of
his home being revealed to Wizarding Britain.

“Can we help you?” Archie asked with a frown on his face as Harry took a seat, he
secretly took pride in the fact that the three couldn’t even come close to seeing through
his glamour charm.

“That’s an interesting mark you have on your forehead Archades,” he said with a grin as
the boy’s eyes widened “remove any penises from there lately?”

The boy in question tried to swat Harry across the head, only for the Quidditch star to
lazily dodge it with a tilt of his head.

“Can somebody tell me what’s going on?” Sirius asked with confusion laced in his voice;
Cedric seemed to have caught on also.

“It’s Harry, Sirius,” Cedric explained “no one else calls Archie by his full name, and what
does he mean ‘remove any penises from there lately’?”

Sirius had a full blown smile on his face, showing his glowing white teeth – no doubt
Archie helped him with those also – he had been waiting to get some time in with his
godson today.

“That’s a rather interesting story Cedric,” Harry began “but I shall not bore you with the
detail, suffice to say, Archades did something incredibly stupid, and his true nature was
revealed to the world.”

“That of a dickhead?” he asked amusedly.

“That of a dickhead,” Harry confirmed “I’m surprised you got it off already though, I
hoped it would at least last the full day . . .”

“Cedric came and helped out,” Archie said with a grin “seems he learned a thing or two
about Curse Breaking from the books you left at Hogwarts.”

Harry rolled his eyes towards the Hufflepuff “I’m glad to know that should you fail at
everything else in life, you’d have a career in penis removal when you graduate, I hear
Stephanie Zabini would be interested in your services . . .”

Cedric and Sirius chuckled, the latter having been informed of Archie’s crush earlier in the
evening by the former.

“Hey, she hasn’t hit me there for a long time!” Archie tried to defend himself while
clutching his testes in phantom pain “I think she could be warming up to me” he
commented brightly.

“That, or she’s losing interest,” Harry decided now that the penis was removed from
Archie’s forehead, he’d find another way to make his day miserable “maybe she think your
penis is horribly inadequate and not worth coming in contact with anymore?”

“Can we stop talking about Penises?” Archie snapped back, as the laughter died down
between the four “we were just talking about our little business venture before you
decided to grace us with your presence.”
“Speaking of which,” Harry interrupted “Ringo – Poppy - Chappy!”

To the shock of the three wizards present, three young house elves, two females and
one male, appeared out of nowhere with a small pop.

“You is calling for us Master Harry?” the male asked, as all three bowed. Unlike the
regular house elves one purchased from the black market, where they would be dressed
in potato sacks, these three were dressed in top of the line dragon hide gear.

“Oh Merlin, isn’t that cute?” Sirius leaned in close to the young elves “they even have
little dragon hide boots. . .”

“You’re to answer to Archades over here guys, work out the details of your contracts with
him,” he motioned towards the gaping boy.

“You got them already?” Archie asked, looking dumfounded “I didn’t think you’d get them
so quickly . . .”

“You’re not ready for this then?” Harry asked with a raised brow.

“NO!” Archie shouted “I mean, yes, I’m ready, I bought and ordered all the cauldrons and
materials necessary earlier actually, I just, um,” he seemed flustered, Harry reasoned he
did technically spring this on him and thrust him into his own business, but this was just
too good of a business opportunity to pass up “I don’t know where to start . . .”

Harry shrugged “I can extend your room here to have a potion’s lab” he began “What did
your dad say about working and staying here?”

Cedric flushed when all three turned to him “Uh, he was reluctant at first, but when I told
him I wanted to start earning my own money, he couldn’t really object, in fact, he
approves,” he mumbled “I didn’t mention the potion brewing though, he just think I’ll be
working here as a busboy or something . . .”

“Excellent,” Harry had thought Cedric’s father might shoot down the idea of working in a
place like Moony Nights – while many people saw the good it did for the magical
creature community, ministry workers like Mister Diggory, were still leery about the idea
“we can set him up in your room to make this easier I guess, I’ll just have to expand your
room with a few charms . . .”

“Hey, I’ll help!” Sirius suddenly voiced his thoughts “I don’t have much else to do with my
time but bum around here, I might as well make myself useful,” he shrugged “you can also
put the business in my name, better that way, people will be less likely to approach me
about your less than wholesome inventory . . .”

Harry hummed thoughtfully “That’s not a bad idea,” Harry conceded “that and Archades
can teach you how to mass produce some of the easier potions so you can continue while
we’re at school. . .”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Archie shrugged, agreeing with the idea.

“I feel bad about taking all those healing potions from him already anyway, and you don’t
even need to pay me,” he grinned “my loving family left me more than enough money
then I know what to do with . . .”
“Hey, the Black family was notorious for being dark,” Cedric interrupted, gaining
everyone’s attention “you think they’d have any tomes on some of the rarer, borderline
legal, Potions in their libraries?”

Sirius scoffed “Yeah, probably illegal ones too,” Sirius looked at Harry warily “Harry, why
is Archie looking at me like that?” Indeed, Archie was looking hungrily at Sirius.

“He does that when the prospect of learning more about Potions arises,” he shrugged
“how many potions can you make with the first batch of ingredients you ordered?”

“A lot,” Archie said sheepishly “I’ve spent a fair majority of the money I’ve earned working
here, I figured I should start making as many as I can before school starts. . .”

Harry nodded “Good thinking, don’t worry, if this goes bust, I’ll reimburse you and you get
a free personal house elf – speaking of which, guys, can you go and prepare a room in
Archades’ bedroom to be a potions laboratory?”

“Of course, Master Harry Potter, sir” the smallest of the three, Chappy, squeaked as the
three vanished with a pop.

“Cute little buggers,” Sirius chuckled “Whoa!” he exclaimed perversely “look at the ass on that!”

“What’s prompted this uncharacteristic show of charity, mate?” Archie asked with a raised
brow “not that I’m complaining, of course. . .”

Harry shrugged “It has potential to provide a decent amount of profit, and I’m not going
to be doing any work for it.”

Archie grumbled at Harry’s brutal, if not accurate statement, he decided to change the
topic “So, did you read the paper today?”

“I did not,” Harry answered blandly, he asked “may there perhaps be something about
them in there?” referring to the few fans still waiting around for his return.

“Take a look for yourself,” Sirius tossed him today’s issue of the daily prophet, apparently
it had been a topic of discussion for the three guys earlier.

Harry frowned when he saw the paper, the front page had a large picture of his Auror
escorts and himself arriving at the ministry after his incarceration to clear all the
paperwork involved in his release, it wasn’t his best picture, that’s for sure. The article read:

Quidditch Star Harry Potter wrongfully imprisoned, and released with apologies!

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has today issued a public apology to our
country’s new hero, Harry James Potter, for his wrongful imprisonment at Azkaban
following the death of fourth year Hogwarts student Lee Jordan.

The Minister has told us that ‘the evidence collected by the Ministry’s Auror investigation
team was quite conclusive and damning against Mr Potter’, however, following further
investigation within Hogwarts, it was proven by Ministry Aurors almost a month later that
he was indeed innocent.

The public outcry this incident caused against the Ministry didn’t help Minister Fudge’s
popularity at all, but he assured us that ‘Mr Potter has been aptly reimbursed for his time
spent in prison’ although the actual amount remains a secret.

Minister Fudge has expressed his ‘sincerest apologies’ to Mr Potter and wishes that he
can spend his summer at his home in Moony Nights recuperating from this, no doubt,
tragic experience.

For More Information on the attacks at Hogwarts refer to article 17, page 8

Harry frowned as he finished reading that article, Fudge obviously added in his living
arrangements as a last ditched effort to piss him off without causing him any actual harm
– two could play it that game.

Another article on the front page piqued his curiosity, he continued to read:

Civil War in the Werewolf community?

Normally, the odd body of a werewolf being found isn’t that much of a surprise in
England. The full moon changes them into ravaging beasts and, on more than one
occasion, a wizard will be forced to defend themselves with lethal force, or risk being
mauled to death.

That’s not what has the Prophet vexed however, our sources inform us that bodies of
werewolves are being found at an increasing rate, with varying causes of death,
however one thing is common amongst all these victims; thick, claw like gashes covering
their bodies with large bite marks to accompany them.

We at the prophet believe that there is a group of werewolves, most likely lead by
notorious criminal Fenrir Greyback, preying on their brethren who refuse to side with them
in their fight against the world.

For more information on criminal Fenrir Greyback, refer to article 23, page 10

That piece of information was troubling indeed, if the prophet was to be believed,
especially with all Remus is trying to do for the werewolf community.

“Are you going to do anything about it?” Sirius asked, sounding worried for some reason.
It was then that Harry remembered why he originally took the prophet.

“Technically, he’s not violating our agreement, he’s merely annoying me,” Harry shrugged
“I daresay he has just pranked me, I’m inclined to reciprocate in kind,” Harry replied with a
grin, one that was matched by his godfather.

“Oh, I was worried that we won’t be able to have any Godson/ Godfather bonding time,”
he gushed “a prank war against the Minister of Magic, Lucky, you know how to make a guy
feel special!”

Harry cringed at the use of his ‘nickname’, eyeing Cedric who was wondering what it could
possibly mean and Archie who was trying to contain his laughter “If you want to bond,
you could always teach me how to ride a motorbike. . .”

“Delilah has ensnared you with her feminine wiles too then?” Sirius asked with a grin as
Harry rolled his eyes “don’t worry, you won’t be the first, your dad asked me to teach him
to ride too, oh, good times,” Sirius continued to reminisce while the three boys eyed him warily.
“Right, Archades, I want to show you something up in my room real quick,” seeing Archie
looked at him with a raised brow, Harry interrupted him before someone got hurt “if you
even think about making a gay joke, I’ll make sure the next penis won’t be so easy to
remove,” Archie raised his hands in a non-threatening manner, it was clear he was
thinking of doing just that.

“Cedric, I’ll call Remus to get you set up with your own apron and what not, he’s been
expecting you actually,” Harry spoke to the Hufflepuff boy, who suddenly felt left out.

“Oh, thanks Harry,” he grinned “you sure he doesn’t mind?”

Harry shrugged “I’m as much owner of this place as he is,” which was true “as long as you
don’t slack, he could always use more help, especially now that he’s boning dear
Nymphadora,” Sirius let out a bark of laughter while Archie shook his head in amusement.

Cedric looked on with owlish eyes as Harry led Archie up to his room while Sirius called
Remus over to them from the bar, to talk about him no doubt.

“Are you sure this is wise, minister?” Cornelius Fudge’s assistant questioned pitifully, not
wanting to anger his boss by questioning his methods.

“Those vultures in the media are making me out to be an incompetent,” Fudge stated
angrily “if they want results, then its results they will get.”

“But to send the Dementors on a widespread search of Britain for a rat?” his assistant
asked incredulously, he quickly took two steps back when Fudge levelled a glare at him
“They are rather hard to control, after all.”

“They will do what I tell them to do!” Fudge barked angrily, his face turning red from
anger “Ever since it was released that Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed the
Potters and killed all those muggles, people have begun losing faith in our government and
judiciary system. . .”

“Won’t it only make us look worse if the Dementors start attacking innocent people?”
Fudge glared at his assistant who only today begun questioning his decision. He didn’t
pay the fool to question him; he paid him to agree with everything he said!

“The Dementors will do as instructed!” Fudge bristled in anger “the risk is worth any
possible attacks on innocents, the longer this ‘Pettigrew’ remains free, the more chance I
have of being ousted by the Wizengamot!”

“Of course sir,” his assistant agreed demurely “how many shall I instruct Azkaban to send
on this ‘rat hunt’?”

“Leave five Dementors in Azkaban,” Fudge ordered “send the rest out all across the UK
to search, make sure they know to search everywhere, including Hogwarts,” he ordered
to his shocked assistant “Make sure you inform all neighbouring foreign ministries also,
there are too many places for a rat to hide on this continent and I want this man found!”
he bellowed loudly “the Dementors will find him soon enough, and when they do, I can kiss
all my problems goodbye” he smirked, happy with his own little joke.

“Technically, the Dementors would be the ones kissing your problems goodbye. . .” Fudge
levelled another glare at him “err . . . sir!”

“Just do what I tell you to do!” Fudge roared, as his assistant scurried out of the office
to message the guards of Azkaban with their new assignment.

“So, what is it you wanted to show me?” Archie asked as he and Harry entered the
latter’s room “hopefully its how to make my room look like this,” he hoped, awe lacing his
voice as Harry led him to the library.

“Unfortunately, no” Harry replied sarcastically as he took a seat behind his desk,
motioning Archie to take the only other available seat.

“Harry,” Archie began, a little trepidation was clearly distinguishable in his voice “is that a
portrait reading history books?”

The portrait in question smirked at him while Harry replied “Your powers of deduction are
quite astounding, how do you do it?”

“Harry,” Archie ignored Harry’s thinly veiled insult and asked another question “is that a
portrait of Salazar Slytherin reading history books?”

“What gave it away?” Harry didn’t look up from what he was doing “The plaque with his
name on it?” Harry asked sarcastically as he began writing something on a spare bit of
parchment, seemingly copying from a book filled with runes and writing Archie couldn’t
hope understand.

“What’ve you got there?” he asked interestingly as Harry continued to jot down a list of
something from one of the pages before flipping towards the back of the book and
continuing his list.

“A tome I managed to barter from an acquaintance,” Harry’s eyes briefly flicked over to
Slytherin’s portrait, Archie didn’t seem to notice “It’s very old and very much written in
Parseltongue,” he continued to jot down random words Archie couldn’t quite see as he
flipped through more pages.

“What’s it about?” Archie asked eagerly “Some really cool snake spells?” he looked excited
“Does it tell you how to breed a Hydra?!”

“That bit of information can be found in the book on Serpent Lore, I tried, but I just
couldn’t find a willing fully matured Runespoor that would breed with a dragon,” he sighed
wistfully, no doubt remembering something about his past.

“What did he say?” Archie asked curiously as Harry finished jotting down whatever he is
he was taking notes of.

“He said you’re a moron,” Harry answered nonchalantly, ignoring the gaping boy and
tossing him the piece of parchment he had just been writing on “tell me what you know of
these, mainly their availability and location,” Harry more ordered than asked, though
Archie took the paper anyway before reading through the list.

After several moments of quickly skimming through the list, Archie looked up at Harry
incredulously “You’re joking, right?”
“I am not,” he replied nonchalantly “why? Is there something funny?”

“You mean other than the fact that these ingredients would be near impossible to get?”
Archie asked sarcastically “There are only two items on this list that you can order from
rare ingredient sellers and they are bloody expensive,” he said “that’s the Runespoor
and Ashwinder scales. . .”

“Money is not an issue,” Harry reminded the boy as he seemed to be pondering on the
other items on that list.

“There’s only one Phoenix I know of in the world that you’d have access to, and that’s
the headmaster’s one,” he pointed out “finding it and getting access to it would be easy
enough, getting it to cry tears for you though?” he asked incredulously “good luck, they
don’t just cry on a whim you know, otherwise Dumbledore would probably be the richest
man in the world . . .”

Harry figured that would be the case with that ingredient, he had hoped Archie would
know of another owner of a Phoenix though, one that had better control over his bird.

“Antiquus trees are almost extinct, they used to flourish in Africa around a thousand
years ago, but over time and with people harvesting their sap like crazy, they’ve become
rather scarce,” he recited from memory “and no-one wants to brave Africa and run the
chance of running into a Nundu to find out how scarce they are . . .”

That, Harry realized, was quite the problem.

“Mentis flowers aren’t too rare,” Archie said sarcastically “so long as you can climb to the
top of the Himalayas and be sure to be up there during a full moon, which is when they
are known to bloom, easy right?” he asked “you good at mountain climbing? Because you
can’t apparate to a place you’ve never been before and those muggle flying machines
can’t get to where you’d need to go either – the place would be too saturated with magic.”

Harry felt like banging his head against the desk, but he figured he’d have plenty of need
to do that later when Archie finished.

“Kingsfoil would probably be one of the more difficult ones to find, even though it’s rather
plentiful” he grinned at Harry’s confused expression.

“How the hell does that work?”

“Well, the Wood Elves grow them in abundance, they use it for their medicinal herbs, I
think,” Archie shrugged “problem is, they closed themselves off from the world around
seven hundred years ago, and nobody knows where they’ve hidden themselves . . .”

“I’d imagine in a forest,” Harry replied sarcastically “is that all I’d need to do?”

“Well, that and earn their favour, which is just as unlikely, they’re rather snobbish
according to history books . . .” Harry ignored Salazar’s snort of amusement, he seemed to
be listening rather intently to their conversation.

“Now, a Lethifold soul fragment, I have no idea how you’d get that,” Archie frowned
“according to some of my more . . . obscure books, soul essences were used for the more
ritualistic potions, it strengthens them tenfold, but I think you’d need someone adept at
Necromancy to get you one,” he frowned “you know any Necromancers?”
“One,” Harry nodded “is that all?”

“Well, no,” he replied, rather surprised that Harry knew someone who practised the
ancient art “you’d actually have to kill the Lethifold before extracting its soul essence, do
you know how to kill one? Because I, and the rest of us mere mortals, don’t” he grinned at
Harry’s annoyed expression.

“A Necromancer should be able to kill one also, they were, after all, the ones who
originally created the beasts,” Salazar sagely informed, his history books forgotten.

“What’d he say?” Archie asked quickly.

“He said you had a small penis, continue!” Harry snapped as Archie glared at the
portrait who was matching his glare with amusement.

“Well, getting a Gorgon’s blood is simple enough, I just have no idea where you’d find a
Gorgon,” he shrugged “go with what legends say, they’d probably be somewhere in Greece . . .

“I’d normally say Basilisk venom would be impossible to get, simply because I have no
idea where you’d find one, fortunately, we know where a dead one is right now . . .”
Archie frowned, ignoring Harry’s wince and Salazar’s furious, hate filled, glare.

“A mature female Vorpala, oh joy,” Archie rolled his eyes in annoyance “as big as the
Basilisk we fought in the Chamber, but a heck of a lot faster – good thing they’re not as
powerful though,” Harry noticed Salazar looking smug “I read up about them after that
incident,” he chuckled at that memory “they’re usually found in the colder European
countries, mostly in dark caves, Siberia would probably be your best bet . . .”

“They were quite plentiful in Romania, back in my time,” Salazar chipped in “they’d
probably migrate north though to seek colder temperatures; weird serpents, the Vorpala
are, the only ones that actively seek out the cold . . .”

“Oh you did not,” Harry replied to Salazar’s hissing, naturally, Archie thought it was an
insult directed at him.

“Willingly given vampire blood, I’d imagine, would be easy for you, since you’re so friendly
with mister Lestat and his ridiculously good looking wife,” he rolled his eyes while Harry
made a disapproving noise.

“Vampire’s are very possessive of their blood,” Harry informed his friend “especially one as
old as Lestat, it’d be flooded with his magic. Something like that could easily be used
against him, if I was to ask him for his blood, he’d literally poor it into the cauldron himself
rather than give it to me, its safer that way . . .”

“Cauldron? These are for potions?” Archie asked, suddenly extremely interested.

“Tell me about that last one and we can discuss that after,” Harry instructed.

“Rose vine is easy enough to get if you can get in the middle of the Amazon,” Archie
shrugged “no one forms expeditions to go and farm the stuff, but if they see it, they’ll take
it. I’d know if somebody had some on hand, and unfortunately, no one I know does . . .”

“That may change within the next few years,” Harry mumbled under his breath “well,
you wanted to know what those were for, correct?”

Archie nodded enthusiastically, always ready to learn more about different kinds of potions.

“Well, I can only tell you one of them, the other is rather personal,” he lied smoothly “the
first batch of ingredients are for the Elixir of Renewal, it’s the elixir that will cure my mother.”

Archie winced sympathetically “Tough break.”

Harry shrugged “I’ll get the materials, just be ready to brew the potion when its time –
the problem is, they’re both ritualistic potions, and thus, both will need the Serpent Staff
to complete the rituals.”

“Aesculapius healing magic staff thing, right?” Archie asked, Harry confirmed with a nod
“well, do you have any information on it?”

Harry motioned towards Slytherin “He did research it quite a bit, his books provided me
with some useful information,” Harry shrugged “nothing concrete, but it gives me a place
to start.”

“Which is where?”

“Well, Aesculapius lived in a temple off the coast of Greece, one that would be, most
likely, heavily warded with Parsel magic wards. . .” Harry began.

“Wait, you guessed most of these things would require curse-breaking skills to find, didn’t
you?” the awe wasn’t hard to place in his voice “how long have you been planning this?”

Harry shrugged “For as long as I can remember, whatever useful knowledge I could learn, I did

“Even the money, you knew you’d need money to go searching for most of this shit, so
you became a Quidditch star, one of the highest paid jobs in the Wizarding world. . .” he
laughed at the absurdity “man, you really need to get laid!”

Harry let that one slide “The Elixir should be able to put my mother back into the state she
was in right before her last sustained injury,” Harry reiterated what he learned “seeing as
right after falling in that coma, she was practically whisked away into Saint Mungo’s,
sheltered for the past twelve or so years, it should reverse the effects of whatever was
cast on her, regardless of what spell it was.”

Archie frowned “That sounds like a ritual more focused on time than actual healing . . .”

“Well, yeah,” Harry shrugged “it’s kind of a last resort if you can’t cure someone, and
seeing as that deranged boot-licker of a woman obliviated herself the second she could,
we have no idea how my mother got to be in her current position.”

“It’s sound in theory,” Archie said slowly, after several moments of silence “but seeing as
so much time has passed, it’d have to be one powerful potion, and I don’t think this
would have been created for such long periods of time. . .”

“He is correct, unfortunately,” Salazar spoke up “though, there is mentioning of some

sort of Chalice, created by Aesculapius, that increases the potency of whatever potion is
drunk from it hundredfold.”
“Is that so?” Harry was looking off into space “you wouldn’t happen to know where I would
find said artefact, would you?”

The portrait of the man shrugged “Find the staff and no doubt you’ll find the cup, they
were both probably used in conjunction with each other for any healing rituals the man
performed.”

“Well, that problem is sorted out,” Harry informed the bewildered Archie “will you be able
to give me more accurate locations of those materials by the time we graduate
Hogwarts?” Harry asked tiredly “think of it as a favour for backing your business.”

Archie frowned and looked at the book on Harry’s desk, the one he copied the ingredients
from “Give me a translated copy of that book and I’ll be your little bitch,” Archie promised
“the information in there could be so useful . . .” he said wistfully.

“Done,” Harry quickly agreed, he was going to give it to him as a birthday present
anyway; it was nothing off his back.

“Wicked!” Archie gushed and immediately left to his room to do god knows what.

When Archie was well and truly gone, Salazar decided to ask the question that had been
on his mind since he heard the list of ingredients.

“I’ve made it my life’s work to study Aesculapius’ magic and I know everything there is, or
was, to know about him,” he began “I recognize the ingredients for the second ritual you
intend to perform clearly, the question is, why?”

“Why not? Clearly you can see the benefits,” Harry replied, reverting to the snake
language that Salazar preferred.

“You don’t come off as the reckless type, and the risks involved in performing that Ritual
are far too great to even consider the benefits it could theoretically provide,” Salazar
mused “Which then means you have no other choice but to perform it,” he pointed out
with a smirk.

“As usual, you’ve used your obviously extremely brilliant mind, assessed the facts and
come to the obvious conclusion, would you like a cookie?” he asked sarcastically “what is
your point?”

“My point,” he said, scowling at Harry’s cheek “is that you have Dolorius Occlumathornia,
the very disease that killed . . .” Harry looked up to see great pain in the man’s glassy
eyes “the very disease that killed Rowena – Lady Ravenclaw,” he quickly amended.
Harry was, needless to say, rather shocked at the uncharacteristic behaviour, maybe
there was more to Salazar Slytherin than meets the eye “You fear that your brain may
implode, just as hers did over time,” he chuckled darkly.

“You’ve obviously discovered the ritual I intend to use, I guess I owe you two cookies,” he
replied coldly, not liking how the cunning founder was reading into his motives so easily.

“The Mind Magic Ritual,” Salazar hissed with a grin “a ritual to strengthen and repair the
magical pathways flowing through one’s brain, the possible benefits of such a ritual could
be astronomical,” he said wistfully “the very same ritual I intended to perform on Rowena
so I could save her life,” he sighed.
Harry raised a curious brow at that, that’s not what Lestat had told him“I was lead to
believe that it was your mother you were seeking the Serpent Staff for,” Harry ignored
the man’s scowl “that you were in love with her, and couldn’t bare to see her in pain, and
thus, dedicated your life to curing her.”

Salazar didn’t confirm nor deny the statement; he merely chose to glare at Harry who had
his hands steepled in front of his mouth while returning Salazar’s gaze.

Ignoring the stubborn portrait, Harry placed his hand under the lip of his desk, running
his hand over the nondescript notches that decorated its furnished surface. Reaching
the seventeenth one from the left, Harry allowed his finger to sink into the notch. Instead
of his finger meeting the resistance one would expect to meet when pressing against
hard mahogany wood, his finger sank in, as if that particular notch was a button.

A small click was heard and a small compartment on the underside of the desk sprung
open, revealing single book, nothing too extravagant, in fact, it merely looked like a
notebook or a small journal of sorts.

Taking the book out of the drawer, Harry flipped through the pages slowly, yet not at a
slow enough speed to thoroughly examine each page’s contents.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Arithmatic equations filled the pages of this notebook, an
odd diagram or two neatly drawn and animated every few pages to provide more detail
and an accurate description of the equation’s effects.

‘My Masterpiece . . .’ he thought fondly, as his eyes rested on the latest set of Arithmatic
equations and the diagram they were paired with; a diagram of a spectacular flame
swirling around the small image of a wizard with his wand raised. These were no ordinary
flames though, no. These flames were black.

‘Amaterasu; that which illuminates heaven’ he mused as he looked for his pen and
continued where he last left off‘how appropriate, that black flames could illuminate a place
that is so light, it’s almost poetic . . .’

It wouldn’t be long now until his masterpiece was complete.

Lestat kept his annoyance in check regarding this current situation. It was rare that the
elder council would call upon any vampire more than once a century, to be called three
times in a month was rather frustrating.

The elder council consisted of the three eldest vampire alive – or not dead again, if you
wanted to be technical – at any one time. Their identities were a well kept secret amongst
the elder vampire community, mainly for their own safety. Technically, they were some
of the most powerful beings on the planet, but why would the vampire community risk
being thrown into chaos by simply not taking precautions?

The youngest of the three elders and the most recent addition to their ranks was Dracul
Miklos, a Romanian vampire, at least he thought so judging by the name, who was well
respected in the vampirian community for his leadership abilities and marvellous skills with
a blade. He was, to Lestat’s calculations, just over three thousand years old.

The second oldest vampire in existence, Nakajima Isamu, was a vampire living in Japan
and a Metamorphagus. This allowed him to change through identities easily and live
amongst regular people at will, which is probably why he was the richest man in the
world. Isamu probably owned all of the largest companies in the world, and nobody would
ever know because he would do so under different names. Lestat estimated his age to be
roughly fifty five hundred years old.

The eldest vampire by far, and leader of the elder council was a mystery to all, including
Lestat. The only thing he could definitively say about her was that she was indeed a
woman, extremely powerful, had the gift of foresight and had to be around ten thousand
years old. Lestat could make guesses as to her origins, but that is all they would be, wild
guesses, with no proof to back his claims.

“Do you know why we have called you here Lestat?” the mysterious leader of the council
spoke up, a dark crimson cloak covering her features from his keen eyesight so he
couldn’t even see the colour of her skin.

“I’m beginning to believe that you must enjoy my company,” he replied sarcastically in the
ancient and noble vampirian tongue “that or you think my time is not as valuable as your own.”

“Of course it is not!” replied none other than Dracul; did he forget to mention that the
man was as arrogant as they come?

“Lestat, stay your tongue,” the comforting yet demanding voice of their leader spoke,
Lestat only did so out of respect for her, not because of Dracul “We would like to know
what you think of young Harry Potter, we know you have met with him recently.”

Slightly alarmed at how much they knew of his secretive life, he took a few moments to
choose his words before speaking “You are taking an unhealthy interest in such a young
mortal,” he began, noticing that Dracul was becoming impatient “however, if it is the will
of the council, who am I to dispute it?” he collected his thoughts “the boy is talented, and
to say that he is only talented for his age would be an insult to him,” he began, slightly
unnerved by Isamu’s silent presence “you know already of what drives him and his goals,
he has recently come into possession of some texts that will bring him all the more closer
to reaching them . . .”

“That is not what we want to know,” Isamu finally spoke up “our leader has foreseen that
the boy has the potential to change the world, for better or for worse, we do not know;
we do not like being left in the dark about matters that concern us, Lestat.”

“He is powerful,” Lestat conceded “his skill and potential with magic far exceeds anyone I
have ever met before. I believe that he can achieve anything he puts his mind to, and
anyone that gets in his way will most likely meet an early end.”

Silence reigned in the council chambers for several moments until the eldest vampire in
the room spoke up again “That is interesting, most interesting . . .” she mused “you are
not playing up his abilities for us, are you Lestat?”

Lestat bristled, he disliked it when people challenged his honour; these fossils dare think
he would lie? “You hardly need my word to describe his abilities, you have foreseen it
yourselves that the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort will return to his body soon, no
doubt young Harry will be involved in one way or another – whether he likes it or not.”

The three elders shared a glance before nodding to Lestat “You may leave with one
order,” Isamu spoke “you are not to directly help him with the task we spoke of during our
last meeting, if he is to be ready for the dark times ahead, he must face these trials alone
less you are absolutely needed. Do we have an understanding?”

“We do,” Lestat replied icily as he turned on his heel and stalked out of the chamber, his
dark grey eyes betraying no emotion what-so-ever.
Chapter: 19
Chapter 20: Legendary Metals

“That’s it Lucky, just focus and don’t crash!” Sirius yelled unhelpfully to Harry from the
edge of the warehouse the two were currently occupying. The only sound other than
Sirius’ yelling voice was the roar of ‘Delilah’ as Harry focused on steering her around the
makeshift obstacle course the two had set up.

Sirius wouldn’t let Harry take his dear motorcycle out on the streets yet, even if they
could use magic to make it possible. He just didn’t want to risk his baby being destroyed
by an amateur driver, yet Harry remained adamant about learning to ride one. Harry had
decided not to mention that it would be pretty hard to damage a motorbike charmed to
be unbreakable.

The two had reached a compromise, they would find a rather large, abandoned
warehouse on the docks, make an obstacle course with bright orange cone markers, and
Harry could learn there. So far, Harry was enjoying the experience, and Sirius was
relishing in the fact that he was able to spend time with his Godson again after so many years.

“I wonder if I can obliviated the existence of a nickname from someone’s memory . . .”

Harry wondered thoughtfully as he eased on the front brake to slow down and turn
around one of the cones.

“Alright Lucky, pack it in, we should be heading back to the inn,” Sirius’ magically enhanced
voice called from the other end of the warehouse “it’s getting dark.”

Harry grinned, the looked remaining hidden due to the helmet currently covering his face,
and accelerated towards Sirius, who was starting to feel something was amiss. Harry
figured he had a good enough handle on how the bike works to try this stunt.

“Harry, slow down!” Sirius yelled, as the boy rocketed towards his position at top speeds,
gaining on him by the second “Stop the bike right now or I won’t let you ride it again!” he roared

“If you insist,” Harry mumbled quietly, his voice unheard over the roar of the bike’s
engine. Harry found he liked driving a motorcycle, probably more so than he did flying a
broom. The bike didn’t offer much for manoeuvrability, but what it lacked in that field, it
definitely made up for in the speed and acceleration departments.

Easing off the accelerator, he applied the back brake hard, forcing the back wheel to stop
spinning and begin to skid along the concrete floor. Harry saw Sirius’ eyes widen in shock
when he saw what was happening. The dog Animagus covered his face with his arms and
turned away, hoping to shield himself from the motorcycle projectile that was sure to come.

While easing the front brake progressively, Harry allowed the back wheel to skid out to
the side until the bike came to a complete stop, a mere meter from Sirius’ crouched position.

“You can come out now Padfoot,” Harry said with mirth, while Sirius padded himself
down, wondering why he wasn’t feeling any pain. The man chanced a look at his Godson
to see him seated on Delilah casually, the back tire of the bike still smoking from the skid
while the bike was sitting innocently before him, sideways, with his godson leaning against it.
Harry almost laughed at the conflicted emotions passing through his Godfather’s face:
pride, jealousy, giddiness, outrage, indignation, and awe. Finally, he decided on one as a
brilliant smile lit up his features. Obviously, his appreciation for anything reckless and fun
outweighed any responsibilities he probably should have felt as Harry’s Godfather.

“Merlin Harry, that was awesome!” he grinned “you’re lucky you didn’t crash and break my
bike though, or I woulda thrown you into the bay,” he joked, motioning to the water
outside the warehouse.

Harry merely rolled his eyes “I knew exactly what I was doing, I’ve been testing the brakes
all afternoon,” he said “you know, I’m sure if you were a responsible Godfather, you’d
probably be scolding me right about now and promising I’d never be allowed to ride your
bike again.”

Sirius shrugged “Probably,” he conceded the point “but I figure, better you try that
dangerous stuff while I’m around in a controlled environment, to help if anything went
wrong, rather than you doing it on your own and breaking your neck in the process,” he
said dryly, as Harry just stared at him.

“That actually made sense,” Harry commented with fake shock “are you feeling okay?”

Harry quickly dodged a playful swat from the man as he barked out a laugh “I guess I had
a lot of time to mature in Azkaban,” he said sombrely “that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna
shag every hot girl that comes into Moony Nights when I’m back in shape,” he grinned
“it’s been far too long!”

Harry raised a brow “Sure you can get it up again old timer?”

“What?!” Sirius shrieked with indignation, not liking it one bit that his manliness was being
challenged “I know you didn’t just say that Lucky!”

Harry winced “Will you stop calling me that? It’s such a ridiculous name,” he said sourly.

“What else would you want? Kitty?” Sirius joked.

“My dad came up with all your ‘marauder’ names, didn’t he?” Harry deadpanned. Sirius
didn’t answer, but his grin said it all “So, what are you going to do with your freedom now
that you have it?” he asked, leaning against the bike and taking a sip from his flask.

Sirius shrugged “I don’t know,” he admitted “I won’t ever need money, the Black fortune
is probably bigger than the Malfoy’s, and I was never one to be content with a boring job
for the rest of my life . . .”

“Being an Auror again is obviously out of the question,” Harry needlessly pointed out.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” he groused “I’m not exactly a big fan of the
ministry at the moment. I’ll probably help Monty with his little business, it has promise, and
it sounds like fun.”

Harry raised an amused brow “Monty?”

Sirius grinned “Short for Montague, it annoys Archie something special.”

Harry shook his head in amusement “Remus told me something about Dumbledore offering
you a job?” he asked, trying to sound interested “you going to accept that?”

Sirius shrugged “Yeah, the position of defence professor at Hogwarts,” he said “Suffice to
say, I have better ways to waste my time, and Dumbledore is still on my shit list.”

“Understandable,” Harry nodded “I’d be pretty pissed too if a man I worked with for so
long allowed me to pass through the cracks without a Veritaserum trial, especially if he
had the power to make it happen.”

“That and I’d rather not be in the same country, let alone castle, as Snivellus if I can help it.”

“Archades used to be his biggest fan, you know?” Harry pointed out “until he fucked up
and practically overlooked Stephanie’s safety.”

“Oh, that bird Monty’s always pining over?” Sirius asked “How come I haven’t seen her
yet? I figured she’d come visit during the summer, didn’t they grow up together?”

“She had to stay at Beauxbatons to catch up with her peers in some of her classes,” Harry
said “they only have six years of school before graduating, so her peers were somewhat
ahead of her.”

“And you?” Sirius asked “Remus and Nymphadora tell me you’re fairly decent with a wand,
not to mention fairly determined to get better.”

“Did they now?” Harry sighed “I get by,” he answered evasively “I mainly spend most of
my time trying to find a cure for my mother,” he lied smoothly. Well, it wasn’t a complete
lie, but he’d rather not advertise his skills with a wand, because apparently, people
couldn’t keep their mouths shut.

“You know,” Sirius changed the topic, knowing Harry didn’t like to talk about his mother
“all those years I spent in prison, I was hoping one day I’d get out, and that when I did, I
could help you be the best seeker Gryffindor has ever seen, imagine my surprise when I
realize not only are you not a Gryffindor, but you’re a Quidditch star . . .”

“Disappointed then?” Harry asked blandly, not really caring either way.

Sirius shrugged “Not really,” he answered honestly “I would have cared when I was
younger, but when you get older, you realize how stupid the house system is, not to
mention house rivalry” he chuckled “being sent to Azkaban as an innocent man kind of
puts things in perspective for you” he sighed “you start to realize how stupid some of the
things you wasted your time with are, not to mention, your values become somewhat skewed.”

“Oh?”

“Well yeah,” he said “I figure that if we were all sorted as teenagers, we’d probably all be
Slytherins, which teenager is not ambitious?” he asked “to sort someone based on the
mindset of an eleven year old going into a strange and scary new environment doesn’t
seem like the smartest thing in the world, in retrospect.”

“I agree,” Harry said with a sigh “That and the way in which the House system is set up
doesn’t allow for much individual competition,” Harry commented “and with no individual
competition, students become lazy and complacent - happy with their mediocrity, rather
than improving themselves to the best that they can be. What fault is it of the student’s
though when the school doesn’t do anything to dissuade such behaviour so long as they
do the work? That’s the problem with the world, and the result is we get generations of
graduates who can barely be considered above average magical users who have no
ambition to realty make something of themselves – it’s pathetic, really . . .”

Sirius just stared at Harry for a few moments in silence before responding “A little harsh
there Harry,” he pointed out “but fair, I have to say,” he chuckled as a thought came to
him “maybe you should start a school of your own one day, if you’re so against the
current system?”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter at the idea, obviously pleased with his own joke. Imagine
Harry Potter, running his own school! The mere thought of it was hilarious!

Harry ignored him, as he stared off into the opposite direction of the warehouse, a vacant
look in his eyes.

“We better head back, I have to get to training” Harry snapped out of his thoughts,
reminding Sirius of the time.

“Oh, can I come and watch?” Sirius asked eagerly, having been a huge Quidditch fan for
the majority of his life; he’d like to see how the pros go about their training. It had to be
ridiculously more complicating and strenuous than what James had ever gone through . . .

“No.”

“Aweso – wait, what?! Why not?”

Harry started up the bike and ignored Sirius’ protests. The two sped off into the
distance; any muggle that possibly could have been in the area would not have noticed
the flying motorcycle heading towards London.

Harry pushed open the door to Moony Nights with his shoulder, entering the Inn with
several bags held in his hands. A tinkling of a bell announced his entrance to the inn; it
didn’t seem too busy . . .

“Hewwo Mister Potta” a little girl, probably around five or six, ambushed him as soon as
he entered holding up a picture of him and a marker “can you pwease sign dis fo’ me?”

Harry wondered if he’d get in trouble with Redbridge if he kicked the brat in the face, but
he was too tired to put forth the effort required to do so. Sighing, he moved the bags in
his right hand into his left and took the marker before quickly scribbling his autograph onto
the picture of him performing a ‘Sloth grip roll’.

Hurrying passed the beaming little monster, not willing to admit that the brat was
somewhat cute, Harry quickly tried to make it to the stairs, only to be ambushed by
several more fans wanting a piece of him. Barely containing a groan of annoyance, he
hung around for a few minutes signing a few pictures and shaking a few hands before
ascending the stairs towards his room, not bothering with greeting Remus who seemed
busy at the bar.

Harry unlocked the door to his room and was about to enter when he heard the faint
sound of a male’s singing voice. Frowning, and wondering how he could hear anything in
the corridor when all the rooms were supposed to have silencing charms on them now, he
quickly deposited the dozen or so bags right inside his room before following the voice.
Imagine his surprise when the closer he got to the sound, the more he realized that not
only was it quite a good singing voice – if he judged it objectively – but it was coming from
Archie’s room, whose door was slightly ajar.

He pushed the door slightly so he could enter silently, wanting to trace the voice to its
owner. The room itself was much like the others in the inn, rather Spartan with two beds
(one recently added to accommodate for Cedric), two small desks and an enchanted
window. Like every other regular room, there was also a door to a modest bathroom that
the two boys shared. Unlike every other room though, there was an extra door, which
was currently open, leading to Archie’s brewing room. It had been installed the second
Archie had moved in with the help of Lizzy and Remus and it is where Archie spent the
majority of his time if he wasn’t working or hanging out with Harry.

Imagine his surprise when he entered the room and saw Archie brewing for their new
business and singing some random Wizarding song. Wizarding music, to him, was rather
shitty, but regardless of the weird and obscure lyrics, Harry noticed that Archie had a
really good singing voice, something he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized until five years
into their friendship.

Archie was currently standing beside one of his ‘mass-brewing’ cauldrons that reached up
to waist from the ground and was as wide as a hula-hoop in diameter. He had a large,
wooden stirring apparatus in his hands as he meticulously stirred the brew, casually
throwing in pre-prepared ingredients from the table beside him when necessary. A quick
tallying of the ingredients and how they were prepared and Harry was easily able to tell
that Archie was making a zit-curing potion.

So lost in his thoughts and listening to Archie sing, he didn’t hear Cedric enter behind him
and exclaim his surprise “Harry, when did you get here?”

“Harry?!” Archie spun around quickly after making sure the potion would be okay to look at
his friend in shock “how long have you been there?” he sounded incredibly embarrassed.

“Long enough,” he said “You should probably close the door if you don’t want people to
hear you singing,” If Archie was expecting to be mocked by his friend, he was sorely
surprised “not that it matters, it’s not like you have a bad singing voice . . .”

“That was you?!” Cedric asked incredulously “I thought you had Weedle Jefferson playing
on the WWN, I didn’t think that was actually you singing!” he exclaimed, as Harry finally
realized that the song he was singing was indeed by the fairly new Wizarding music
sensation, Weedle Jefferson.

Archie’s face had turned as red as a tomato “Can we forget this ever happened and get
back to the issue at hand?”

“There was an issue at hand?” Harry asked, enjoying his friend’s discomfort “Stop being a
baby, you snuck up on me playing the guitar, now I returned the favour.”

“You play the guitar?” Cedric asked, just as incredulously as he asked Archie if he sang.
Harry just didn’t seem like the musical type.

“That’s different, you’re good at that!” Archie countered, ignoring Cedric who was still
trying to wrap his mind around the situation.
“Both Cedric and I attest to your better than average singing voice, so I hardly see the
difference . . .”

“It’s better than that!” Cedric exclaimed “You really have no reason to be embarrassed
Archie, it was really good!”

Archie mumbled something under his breath, still not entirely comfortable with the
situation “My mother used to sing to me as a child, she’d try and get me to sing sometimes
too, I do it often when I think I’m alone . . .”

Cedric and Harry simultaneously decided a change of topic was necessary.

“I got the parchment you said we’ll need!” Cedric exclaimed suddenly, showing a large roll
of parchment “for the catalogues!”

“Excellent,” Harry approved “I was wondering when you’d start that, are you going to be
making them then?” Harry asked the Hufflepuff.

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly “I’m not as good at brewing as most people, I can still make the
simple stuff, but I’d feel a lot better if I could contribute more, you know?”

Harry nodded as Archie smiled “Don’t make them too flashy, but make sure they still look
good. Also, make sure it’s too the point and that it says somewhere on it that we sell the
cheapest potions on the market!”

Harry nodded “Emphasis on the cheap,” he reminded tiredly.

“Where were you all day by the way?” Archie asked Harry “I was looking for you at
lunch, Stephanie sent another letter . . .”

“Shopping,” he answered “I’m never taking Nymphadora with me again,” he said tiredly
“she insisted on coming with me on her day off; I’m not exactly a stranger when it comes
to clothes shopping, but that girl is ridiculous . . .”

“You mean to tell me you spent all day clothes shopping?” Archie asked in disbelief
“you’re the worst!”

“You decided how many schools you’re going sell to?” Cedric asked, unrolling the
parchment on his desk and getting out some artistic supplies.

“Well, Hogwarts of course, and every other school on the continent with both males and
females . . .”

“Archades, that’s around thirty schools,” Harry reminded him “not that it matters if you
actually think you can meet the quota, I just thought I’d remind you.”

“Really?” Archie asked surprised “I figured it’d be more . . .”

“You two seem to have things under control here,” Harry observed as the elves were
diligently slicing and dicing the ingredients in the brewing room “I’m going to go and get
some sleep, don’t disturb me unless it’s absolutely important . . .”

“Don’t you have training tonight?” Cedric asked, figuring that with what time it was,
Harry wouldn’t get much rest anyway.
“No,” he answered “our game against the Czech Republic is tomorrow so coach gave us
the night off.”

“Did you know Remus is going to play the game on the WWN downstairs when it’s on?”
Archie informed Harry “He’s lowering the price for drinks too;” he sighed “we’re going to
be so busy . . .”

Harry decided to leave the two boys to their own devices, thoughts of a night in silence
with his studies at the forefront of his mind.

The room was practically overflowing with people, all dressed in different variations of
white and red, some even choosing to prove their devotion by painting different parts of
their body in those colours also.

By the time it was eight o’clock, Remus had to actually start refusing people entry. Every
table was filled, no chairswere left empty. Strangers were sitting beside each other to
make sure every bit of space in the whole room was utilized efficiently, talking animatedly
while waiting for the broadcast of the game to begin. Werewolves chatting with Vampires;
Goblins taking bets from all; Wizards and Witches mingling with the other species as if it
were the norm; there was no discrimination here, a perfectly joyous occasion where all
species could get together and enjoy one thing that brought them all happiness. It
almost brought a tear to Remus’ eye.

Sirius, Archie and Cedric, along with Lizzy, Ringo, Poppy and Chappy were helping Remus
out to the best of their abilities, working as hard as they could to keep up with orders and
serving drinks from the bar. Cedric was pleasantly surprised to see his mother and father
arrive earlier, proud to see him hard at work and making his own way in the world so
early. His mother, Dorothy, had expressed her disappointment that she couldn’t have
her ‘Ceddy’ around whenever she wanted at home, but she was just as proud as Amos,
his father.

Unfortunately for those close to Harry, they were not able to attend the games
personally as none of the games were scheduled to play on British territory until the final
– the organizers didn’t want anything to damage the grandiose stadium until the most
important match of the cup. Harry had explained to them, quite annoyed with how many
times he had to repeat himself, that he was unable to procure any tickets for them unless
it was indeed in England. The home countries had enough problems with providing seats
for their own people, and there was no way Harry’s family and friends would be able to
get a ticket ahead of the die-hard fans who had booked their place months in advance.

Remus, though, along with everyone else, was hoping England would make the final, so
they could finally watch Harry play on an international level; even if England lost though,
Harry had assured them that he had already more than enough tickets held in his name
should he want them.

“Archie!” Remus yelled as loudly as possible, his voice barely audible to anyone who wasn’t
listening out for it above the joyous fans “Table nineteen is still waiting on their drinks!”

“I’m on it!” Archie confirmed, before heading out though, there was a rather high pitched
whistle from behind the bar that caught Archie’s attention. Looking to a rather elaborate
contraption which had several brass and ‘organ like’ pipes connected to a trunk sized box
beneath the bench, he saw one of the pipes release some red smoke which formed into
a number. It was the number eight.
“Cedric, table eight is ready to order their main meal!” Archie informed his friend, who was
helping the elves quickly, and efficiently, clean the dishes with the use of magic in the
kitchen “go take their order, I’m busy!”

“No problem Archie, are you guys okay by yourselves?” Cedric asked the elves beside
him, who were all dressed in aprons and had little elf sized gloves covering their hands.

“We is fine Cedric, you go do what Archie ask,” Lizzy smiled at him, answering for the
other elves, as Cedric removed his gloves and exited the kitchen into the main area
where everybody else was eagerly awaiting for the game to start.

Remus could be found near a jukebox sized contraption that was almost completely made
out of expertly crafted mahogany with several speakers fixed into its body. The
contraption was the current top of the line radio system that was hooked into the WWN.
By top of the line, it basically meant that it was the loudest with the clearest sound,
though Remus would gladly throw it in the trash – despite the two thousand galleons it
cost him – if someone gave him a working surround sound system hooked up to a
projector that would work here and show the game. He really did miss the muggle world
sometimes . . .

This particular ‘system’, while not as good as its muggle equivalent, boasted the ability to
produce a surround sound effect without the use of wires. With one quick look around the
inn, one could easily see roughly a dozen smaller speakers floating in different,
strategically placed, locations around the inn to provide maximum coverage to anyone,
no matter where they were seated.

He really wished Harry was here to help him set this thing up, but after a few hours, off
and on, working on it, he was certain he had finally succeeded. According to the time
too, he couldn’t have timed the completion of the set-up any better.

Amongst the excited chattering of the crown, everyone quieted down when they heard
the expensive system come to life.

“- so without further ado, we’ll cross over to our friends in the Czech Republic, Robert
Seacrest and Eddie Chase, who will be commentating the MASSIVE game all of England will
be listening to tonight,” whatever the commentator continued to say was barely audible
over the thunderous cheer of the people within Moony Nights “and with that, I bid you all
a good night, and one final message to our boys and girls over in the Czech Republic –
TEAR THOSE CZECHS APART!”

That statement brought more cheers of approval from the loyal English fans at the Moony
Nights inn. Remus was glad that the transmission was coming in loud and clear, but he’d
still prefer a freaking muggle surround sound system.

“Welcome sports fans,” the voice of Seacrest, a famous sports commentator from
America greeted “Eddie and I are coming to you LIVE from the Czech Republic, this
Quidditch pitch may not be as large as the one we visited in Brazil, but where it lacks in
seat numbers, it more than makes up for in sheer beauty, don’t you think so Eddie?”

“Oh most definitely Robbie,” Chase agreed “would you look at that brilliant screen flying
around above us? It’s a brilliant, and recent, invention by the famous Australian witch,
Casey Andrews, for the use of the World Cup specifically!”
“How does it work?” Seacrest asked with fake interest, obviously for the listener’s benefit
and not his own.

“That is a very complicated question to answer Robbie, my friend, but I’ll give you a
simplified version. Think of how a Pensieve can show anyone a memory they have
deposited into the memory bowl, this works in a similar way.”

“Wait,”Seacrest interrupted “Are you trying to tell me that there are people watching the
game from strategically placed positions across the stadium, and streaming their
memories INTO the screen?!”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say Robbie, those pretty tubes transporting that shiny
silver substance aren’t just for looks. The screen is already being fed memories from
hundreds of different witches and wizards from all sorts of angles! This could be the
magical world’s answer for the muggles’ Talleyvawsion!”

“That’s ‘Television’ Eddie, Merlin you Poms are hopeless!” Seacrest joked “Though this
magnificent invention will definitely make watching these games all the more pleasurable!
Don’t forget sports fans, Pensieve memories can be viewed from all angles as long as the
wizard or witch providing the memory has actually seen the action take place!” he
informed excitedly “And by the look of that huge bowl attached to the back of the screen
filled with memories, we’ll have some killer replays to show our audience! It’s too bad you
all at home can’t see this creation, it truly is remarkable!”

“Now hold on right there Robbie!” Chase interrupted “Miss Andrews has assured the
International Quidditch Federation that she also has a way to mass DUPLICATE the
memories for distribution and sale! So cross your fingers folks, because you all just might
be able to see this game too in a few weeks time for a price!”

“For a price, of course!” Seacrest laughed “Oh, I’m sure the coverage will be spectacular,
but enough about that Eddie, let’s get on with the team line-ups!”

Another cheer rose up from the patrons of Moony Nights, many of them breaking out of
their shock at the revelation of the Australian witch’s new invention.

First, of course, the commentators introduced the home team’s players. The Czech
Republic had a World Class team, just like every other team in this competition had. The
commentators spent a good majority of their time reporting on Czech’s veteran star
chaser, Patrik Nedved. The man had the highest amount of assists in the competition, and
his goal scoring tally was second to only one . . .

The cheers in Moony Nights increased when the commentators began to introduce the
English team. The fans would roar in approval of their heroes the second their names
were mentioned.

“Now we move onto this newly born English team, Eddie, I don’t recall a time England has
ever looked so dangerous!”

“I agree with you one hundred percent Robbie, and it’s all thanks to one teenager!” the
cheers in Moony Nights became deafening when Harry was inadvertently mentioned.

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves there Eddie!” Seacrest laughed joyously at his
partner’s excitement “First, let’s go through England’s line-up, starting from their keeper
Scotty James!”
“Yes, good old Scotty. He may be as old as my father, but the old timer is as reliable as
ever, having the fifth best record for goals saved out of all the keepers in the competition!”

“To put that in perspective for you sports fans, there’s still technically seventy two teams
left in the competition until the next phase is drawn, even though this match is the last of
the group phase!” Seacrest told the uninformed listeners “It’s no wonder Redbridge
hasn’t seen fit to replace him!”

“Yes, but rumours have been telling us that this is his last campaign, regardless of the
result,” Chase sighed dramatically “We’ll definitely miss him, but there are plenty of hot
prospects coming through in the United Premier League!”

“Most definitely,” Seacrest agreed “Now onto the Beaters, the famous killer harpies from
the legendary Holyhead Harpies, Stephanie Broadchest and Alexandra Watson!”

“The last person to insult Stephanie because of her last name was reported to have had
to escape the vicious beater’s wrath via broom, while forced to dodge bludger after
bludger sent at him for over an hour!”Chase informed the humoured listeners “I wonder
who would have the guts to do such a thing, especially in a place where Stephanie had
access to her full beater’s kit!”

“I wonder indeed” Seacrest joked “it would have to be someone with excellent flying
abilities, someone with the sheer audacity and lack of respect to do something to
someone lesser men would fleer in terror from! A few names come to mind!” The two
commentators shared a laugh, while Remus palmed his face and let out a loud groan.

“Let’s not forget Watson though, just as vicious and just as determined to protect her
team mates . . .”

“. . . AND DESTROY HER OPPONENTS!” Chase eagerly cut in, earning an approving roar
while Seacrest chuckled “seriously though, the two of them, while not having the highest
bludger saves, certainly make up for it with bludger connections! They’re now third to only
the likes of Bulgaria and Brazil!”

“We continue on with this star studded line-up with England’s chasers, and while all three
of them are spectacular in their own right . . .”

“. . . You’d have to be to play on an international level,” Chase cut in once again.

“I agree, of course, but there’s one person we all know has stood out like an
overpowered Lumos spell in the darkest of dungeons, but we’ll leave him for last”
Seacrest commented “first up, we have the English team captain, the interceptor, the
great Frank Cole!”

“He’d be happy with his team’s performance this campaign, especially now that he’s been
made captain after Beach’s retirement from international Quidditch!” Chase affirmed
“and though not the best player in the competition, his interception rate is still amongst
the highest in the competition!”

“That it is Chase, now, onto the only female chaser on the pitch today, Katherine Young!”

“This will be Kathy’s third campaign, and you can tell she’s just as eager to win as ever.
Now that England is tipped by experts to at least make the final next year, her desire to
bring home that cup is all the more apparent!”

“Indeed sports fans, and in this campaign, her teamwork with fellow Chaser and captain
Cole have provided England, and more specifically, their new Quidditch star, with an
endless amount of assists!”

“Yes folks, you know who we’re talking about, because he’s apparently all us ‘Poms’ are
talking about these days!”

Seacrest laughed “That’s an accurate description; we are of course, talking about

England’s new hot-shot Chaser, and highest scorer in the competition, Harry Potter!”

Remus almost fell off his chair when he was met with the roar from the patrons in his inn,
his sensitive hearing enhanced by his curse having taken some damage from the
onslaught. He was sure it would take some time for the ringing to stop.

“Yes, yes, Harry Potter, England’s newest recruit, and dare I say, reason for their
success?” Seacrest ventured. None of the fans seemed to mind the description.

“That’s a fair statement, especially since Potter is on the top of the goals scored tally by
more than twenty three goals!” Chase supplied some statistical information.

“Not only that, he’s third in the competition for Quaffle intercepts, fifth for goal assists and
first for Seeker blocks! Harry Potter is truly one of the best players in the world at the
moment, and the best part is, he’s only recently turned fifteen! Yes sports fans, you
heard right, he’s the same age as other young superstar Victor Krum!”

“Technically, Krum is around a year older, but you get the picture folks!” Chase laughed
“Quidditch is being overrun by these young chaps in this day in age; I won’t be surprised
if in twenty years time, they’ll all be under twenty five!”

“Neither would I Eddie, Quidditch is quickly becoming a physically demanding sport with
players like Krum and Potter showing their athletic prowess in the air and on a broom.”

“Oh, most definitely Robbie, I remember when I used to play at Puddlemere, none of us
were as fit as these chaps, I can assure you” he chuckled “Do you think England has a
chance to win the cup next year with this team Robbie?”

“Oh, the dreaded question, you know, you’re not the first to ask me this recently, and
you most definitely won’t be the last . . .”

“. . . OUT WITH IT MAN!” Chase interrupted, sounding impatient, though you could tell
the two were joking with each other.

“I know I’m going to regret this in the morning, but I definitely think England stand a
good chance of winning this campaign . . .”

Remus pre-emptively blocked his ears this time, and it wasn’t a moment too soon as the
deafening roar of those within the inn almost burst his eardrums, even with his hands
covering them. He did have to laugh though at Sirius cheering the loudest out of all of
them, proclaiming to the world that he was Harry’s Godfather over and over to anyone
that would listen.

“Last, but most certainly not least, England’s seeker, the legendary Albert Shearer!”
Seacrest introduced “The man is a living legend amongst English Quidditch, but I must say,
his performances haven’t been up to par with what we’ve usually come to expect from the man.

“Unfortunately, I agree with you Robbie, this is to be Shearer’s last campaign too, the man
is a genius on his broom, but he just isn’t what he used to be in his old age. It would be
spectacular for him to go out with a bang though if England wins the cup!”

“It’s so weird hearing them talk about Harry so reverently,” Archie said to Cedric, the two
able to have a small break from work now that everyone was listening to the broadcast so
intently “he’s still just Harry to me, but apparently, everyone in the country sees him like
some sort of hero.”

“It is rather funny,” Cedric admitted “I haven’t even heard anyone mention Longbottom
since coming to work here; all people seem to talk about is Quidditch these days. It was
different at home, my parents used to always sing Neville’s praises.”

“England hasn’t been in a position to win the World Cup in over a century though, so it’s
understandable,” Archie reasoned “are you still going to try and play Quidditch
professionally when you graduate?”

“That is the plan,” Cedric blushed “I don’t think I’m on the level of Harry or the others
though . . .”

“Nonsense,” Archie admonished “first of all, you play different positions, and secondly,
Harry’s only playing for the money,” he leaned in close to Cedric and whispered “he’s
going to quit after this campaign, he only signed on for one anyway.”

Cedric frowned “I would say that’s a shame, but knowing what I do about him, he has
more important things to worry about,” he then grinned “though it would be nice to see
England win that cup again.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely see it!” Archie cheered as the commentators got back onto the topic
of Harry, comparing his campaign to the Czech Chaser, Nedved “and we’ll get tickets to it
as well!”

“And here come the Czechs, lead by Nedved!” Seacrest introduced, as loud Czech music
played in the background and everyone in the room jeered.

“Look, it’s the English . . . hold on, I don’t see Potter!” Chase said frantically “Oh, wait,
there he is, and WHAT AN ENTRANCE!”

“This is stupid, we should be able to watch it,” Sirius grumbled with his arms crossed over
his chest.

“Don’t worry Padfoot, you heard what they were saying earlier, we may be able to watch
it yet if what they say is true,” Remus placated his friend “and if it really works as well as
they make it out to work, I’m sure Harry will get something to play it for us anyway.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Sirius cheered up considerably “Lily
did show me one of those televisions when we were younger, it was awesome!”

Remus chuckled “They’ve gotten much better in the last decade, it’s a shame muggle
technology doesn’t work in here, because the things they can do these days would blow
your mind!”
Sirius seemed to be trying to recall something as he frowned “You know, I think I
remember Harry talking about a theory he had regarding muggle technology and magic,”
his frown deepened, clearly having trouble recollecting “it was confusing, and it made no
sense to me, but the guy running the bookstore across the street seemed to be able to
follow . . .”

“Mister Yates?” Remus asked, sounding surprised “I didn’t know he and Harry were on
speaking terms let alone close enough for Harry to discuss magical theory with him,” what
Sirius didn’t know was, Harry rarely ever spoke to anyone regarding anything about
advanced magical theory.

“I got that same impression, but he was trying to prove he wasn’t there on Ministry
orders and was trying to buy as many books as possible on the subject,” Sirius chuckled
“when he wants something, that kid can be pretty determined. . .”

“I hear you Padfoot, I hear you,” Remus chuckled “have I told you the story about how
Harry convinced me to train him to become an Animagus yet?”

Sirius’ eyes lit up with delight “You have not, you can tell me after the match though, it’s
about to start!”

“And there it is sports fans!” Seacrest announced “The Czech Minister of Magic has begun
the game, and we’re off!”

“Already Potter is on the prowl, nabbing the Quaffle right out from under Nedved’s nose
and heading towards the Czech goal at blistering speeds, boy does Nedved look peeved. . .”

The back entrance to the Moony Nights inn was Harry’s new method of entrance now
that he practically got ambushed by fans whenever he entered through the front door;
easily accessible for him by transforming into his cat form and leaping across shop roofs
until he could drop down in the small alleyway behind the inn.

Covering his face with the hood of his jacket, Harry swiftly entered the empty kitchen
and walked through the bar into the dining area. Red and White streamers were still
littered across the place from their win no doubt; fans are still celebrating on the streets
of Diagon and Knockturn Alley now that England had made it to the final sixteen of the
World Cup for the first time in over a century. They had sealed their entry with a
convincing four hundred and twenty to one hundred and thirty victory. Nedved’s face
when Shearer had finally caught the Snitch and ended their slaughter was priceless.

Bypassing several passed out patrons still hanging around after last night’s victory; Harry
quickly ascended the stairs and went straight to his room. He needed a nice, long, hot
shower to ease his muscles.

After his shower, he quickly got dressed in some casual clothes and removed a large box
from his closet before heading out of his room and towards Archie’s.

The door wasn’t open or slightly ajar like last time, so he settled for knocking on the door
three times, rather loudly. If Archie was brewing, he probably wouldn’t hear the knock if
it was too soft.

He didn’t have to wait long for the door to swing open, but he was met with a sight he
didn’t expect, a half naked girl around his age looking at him tiredly.
Frowning, Harry peered at the door again that the girl was holding open to see if he had
the right room, he did. . .

“Can I help you?” she asked, sounding rather peeved. Harry couldn’t really blame her;
she probably thought he was some sort of pervert. After all, she did only seem to be
dressed in a poorly buttoned up shirt, a man’s shirt. What the fuck? He wondered how
long it would take for her to recognize him.

“I’m looking for Archades,” Harry answered her, not really sure how to handle the
situation “unless you won this room from him in a game of strip poker, he should be in there. . .

She didn’t seem impressed by his humour “I don’t know any Archades, you know, you
were rather rude knocking so loudly on the door so early in the morning,” she was
frowning. Harry wondered what would happen if he simply pulled authority and threw her
out of the room, he did technically own it after all.

“Whose ‘zat?” a muffled voice came from within the room, one that Harry clearly recognized.

“Cedric?” Harry pushed right passed the angry girl to see the Hufflepuff tangled in his
bed sheets, completely naked. Luckily for him, Cedric was lying face down.

“Harry?” he asked tiredly, as he began to turn around.

“If you want to keep what make you a male, you will stay face down on that bed,” Harry
snapped, which finally caused Cedric to wake up and take in his surroundings.

“Harry!” he shrieked as he fell off the single bed and covered his privates with the pillow
“it’s not what it looks like!”

Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow before looking around the room once again. The
girl’s panties were thrown to the far side of the room, her bra was sitting closer to the
bed; the girl, now tapping her foot with her arms crossed against her barely clothed chest
looking at him with righteous indignation; the girl was completely naked underneath that
shirt. Harry allowed himself to assess her objectively, she was rather good looking.

Cedric clothing was strewn all over the room in different states of ruin, all of them looked
to have been destroyed by some sort of large cat that had torn them from his body. His
desk and everything that was on it looked to have been upturned as well, oh, he had a
good idea what this scene looked like.

“Is that so?” he asked Cedric dryly.

Cedric blushed slightly as he too looked around the room, the girl only got angrier “Okay, so
it is what it looks like. . .”

“Cedric!” the girl shrieked “tell this pervert to leave your room!”

Cedric scratched the back of his head sheepishly “Sarah, technically, it’s his room,” he
explained to the attractive, mostly naked, girl “that’s Harry Potter. . .”

Harry was amused at how the girl’s head snapped in his direction so quickly that she
probably pulled a muscle. The girl looked mortified, and Harry wasn’t sure whether it was
because she was practically naked in front of him, or because of how she treated ‘Harry Potter’
“H-Harry P-p-potter?” she stuttered in shock before shrieking loudly and running into the
bathroom and locking the door behind her.

“Well, that could have gone better. . .” Cedric muttered as he looked to the locked door,
and then Harry “Hey, great game by the way mate! It was crazy last night; you had to
see the celebrations!”

“So it would seem,” he said amusedly “where’s Archades, this is for him,” he motioned to
the box in his hands.

“Oh,” he looked sheepish again “he said he’d find another room to sleep in, apparently he
didn’t much appreciate us barging in and doing, well, you know . . .”

“Do you know where?” Harry asked impatiently.

“Oh, Sirius’ room I think,” he said sheepishly.

“Right,” Harry was about to turn away “I’ll leave you and the pillow alone now,” he
grinned as he dodged the feathery projectile on his way out.

Harry continued down the hallway and travelled around the bend to where Sirius’ room
was. Right outside the door, lying on the floor with his night clothes on, a single pillow
and a very thin sheet in a very uncomfortable position was none other than Archie, trying
to sleep.

Harry slowly approached the boy, inspected him quickly to make sure he was asleep,
before kicking him swiftly in the ribs, causing to awaken with a yelp of pain.

“Ouch, what the fuck?” he grumbled sleepily “It wasn’t enough you kicked me out of your
room you piece of – Harry!” he exclaimed happily “when did you get here?”

“This morning,” he answered “interesting sleeping arrangements . . .”

Archie chuckled nervously “I’m assuming that if you’re here, you know about Cedric then?”
he grinned “lucky bum.”

“I dropped in for a bit, yes,” Harry grinned “Stacey, I think her name was, didn’t seem
too happy to see me. Quite rude of her, first she calls me a pervert, and then she runs
and locks herself in the bathroom when she learns my name.”

“It must be your animal magnetism,” Archie chuckled “well, nothing much to tell here.
Sirius blames not being able to get laid on me being in his room when he got back, and not
on the fact that his,” he raised his voice “ribs look like you could play the xylophone on them!”

“Shut up Monty, we’re still not talking!” a muffled voice from within the room called out.

“He’s right Sirius,” Harry called through the door with amusement “unless you can find a
necrophiliac; you’re not getting any for a long time.”

“Hey, if you find a vampire sexy, does that technically make you a necrophiliac?” Archie
asked from the floor with a worried frown.

Harry was about to call him an idiot before the words died in his mouth. They were
technically dead . . .

“You’ll never be able to look at Lucile the same again,” Harry told Archie sagely as he
heard hurried footsteps approach Sirius’ door.

“Harry!” Sirius exclaimed happily, he was dressed in some black silk pyjamas “good job last
night! You should have seen them all singing your name!”

“Thanks,” Harry turned to Archie “this is for you, I believe I missed your birthday yesterday.”

“It was your birthday yesterday?” Sirius asked, shocked that no one had done anything
for the boy.

“Oh, I guess I forgot,” Archie said with a frown “I’ve been so busy lately,” he took the
box from Harry’s hands and opened the lid to see several bottles and jars with different
animal body parts, or rather organs. He could tell they were from some sort of serpent,
but he couldn’t tell which.

“Basilisk, Archades,” Harry answered the unasked question dryly.

“All these,” Archie said in a state of shock “are Basilisk potions ingredients?” he said,
unsure of how to proceed.

“Everything I could literally bottle from the beast is in there, I don’t know if some of the
parts are actually useful, but the majority of them should be. Needless to say, I shotgun
the venom, everything else is yours though.”

Archie was still in a state of shock, but he wasn’t so shocked that he couldn’t spot the
other package inside the box along with the ingredients. This one was wrapped in brown
paper and was much smaller than the box the ingredients came in.

With shaky hands, Archie untied the string from the package and ripped off the wrapping
to reveal an ornate black box, the likes of which he had never seen before. The box
itself was probably more expensive than anything he owned!

Slowly, and reverently, Archie opened the lid of the box and gasped at the sight within.
It was a knife, but not just any knife. A single edged blade that curved up at the tip,
attached to a handle made of, what he assumed to be, ivory. What caught his attention
though was the actual material the blade was made from. It shined with a bluish silver
gleam that made you want to turn away and shield your eyes if you stared at it for too
long. Did he mention that the edge of the knife looked so sharp that it could cut through
solid bone like a hot knife through butter?

“It’s Mithril,” Harry elaborated, causing Archie to gasp in shock, while Sirius looked on curiously

“Harry, I-I can’t accept this,” he tried to return the knife to Harry, but to Sirius’ and
Harry’s amusement, he may have stretched his hand out, but the knife never left his hand.

“Think of it as a thank-you for risking your life to fight the Basilisk,” Harry said dryly “The
Goblins were mighty reluctant to craft that for me, but luckily for me, I had a certain diary
I had no use for anymore that they were more than happy to accept as a trade. So
technically, it cost me nothing.”

“What’s so special about Mithril? I mean, it looks awesome, don’t get me wrong, but it’s
just another metal right?”

Archie was still looking at the knife reverently, but apparently he was still coherent
enough to answer Sirius’ question.

“Metals are usually measured in density when it comes to how valuable they are for
crafting weapons,” Archie explained, Sirius already looked confused.

“The Density of an object is the ratio of the amount of matter in an object compared to
its volume,” Harry informed his intellectually challenged godfather.

“Right,” Archie agreed “well, there’s three types of metal in the world that any weapons
crafter would kill to use, and they literally did kill to use them thousands of years ago,”
he began to twirl the blade around his palm, showing his expertise in handling a knife of
that size (it didn’t much surprise Harry considering he’s probably had a knife of that size in
his hand for the majority of his life) “the three metals are Orichalcum, Adamantium and Mithril.”

“I thought those were just things you’d hear in fairy tales,” Sirius said with a frown “I
remember Orichalcum coming up once or twice when my mother used to tell me stories of
Atlantis as a child,” he explained “a horrible woman she may have been, but she did love
her legends. . .”

“There’s always some fact in most legends, especially in the Wizarding world,” Harry
wisely stated “Orichalcum was said to be used by the Atlantians to build their most precious
buildings, and it was said to be a reddish gold colour.”

“Yeah,” Archie agreed “Adamantium is said to be found at the bottom of the deepest
seas, the pressure created by the water naturally created the metal over thousands of
years, only to be found by the Atlantians as well.”

“It was said to be lighter than Orichalcum, so the Atlantians probably used it for their
warrior’s armour,” Harry theorized “not much is said about it.

“Right,” Archie continued “then there’s Mithril, the only natural metal of the three, and by
natural I mean, it was created because of a phenomenon of nature. The Dwarves were the
first to find Mithril veins and it sparked many wars between them and the Goblins over
who would control the mountains which housed the rare metal.”

“Mithril is supposed to be the rarest of the three,” Harry continued “its density is even
greater than Orichalcum’s and Adamantium’s making it the super metal of the three, that,
and the most sought after.”

“How did you manage to get your hands on that knife then?” Sirius asked perplexed, if it
was as rare as it sounded, it mustn’t have been easy.

“With great difficulty, I assure you,” Harry began “I won something of great value from a
Goblin before my last school year that was a family heirloom of his,” Harry explained “he
wanted it back, and I wanted some of his Mithril, he agreed to craft me a small knife for
the book back.”

“All that for just a book?” Sirius asked astounded “what was it? The first Playwizard
magazine ever created?”

“The diary of Salazar Slytherin,” Harry deadpanned, causing his godfather’s eyes to
widen comically “Goblins are notoriously good when it comes to crafting weapons, you’ll
find you won’t find a better knife for prepping your potions – oh, and it’s got runes crafted
in it to keep it clean and make it unbreakable, not that anything could break it, but you
never know. . .”

“Harry, I. . .” Archie began only to be stopped by Harry.

“Find what I asked you to find for me if you want to pay me back,” he said blandly “I’m
sure that’s a fair trade if you insist on being an idiot.”

Archie smiled up at him, not one of those idiotic grins he always has plastered on his face,
but a true smile “Thanks Harry, I mean it.”

“Yes, well, I’m going to sleep, I’ll see you all later.”

Sirius was still peering intently at the bluish silver knife as Harry travelled back to his
room. He hadn’t had a chance to rest since his game and he was tired.

It was the morning that Harry would need to board the Hogwarts express and head back
to school that found the green eyed teenager in a muggle doctor’s office.

Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. The hospital he was in was muggle enough, but the
doctor himself was a squib. His name was Nathaniel Anderson and he was recommended
to him by Allison earlier in the week for a second reference regarding his disease. The girl
spoke very highly of him and said that the man knew enough about the magical world to
be able to assist if he could.

“So, Harry Potter is it?” The man asked, trying and failing to hide his surprise when he saw
Harry’s name on the sheet of paper he was referring to “How can I help you? I hear you
requested me specifically . . .”

“I know you’re a squib doctor,” Harry said dryly, “it’s why I requested you specifically.
Suffice it to say, I have a problem and I think the muggle methods may be the best way
to help me at the moment.”

“Oh?” The doctor asked, steepling his hands in front of his mouth, his curiosity having
overridden his shock at who he was speaking to at the moment “what problem is that?”

“I assume you know of ‘Dolorius Occlumathornia’?” Harry asked the now shocked once
again doctor rhetorically “I happen to have contracted it in my month stay in Azkaban; I
was wondering if there’s any muggle medications that could help me delay the effects for
as long as possible?”

The doctor leaned back in his chair, seemingly in thought “What effects may that be?
Forgive me, I am aware of the ‘disease’ as you put it, but I am not aware of how the
Wizarding world sees it, only how I personally see it.”

“Apparently my brain is going to have a meltdown in three to four years,” Harry said dryly.

Harry was surprised when the doctor let out a bark of laughter “It amazes me how wizards
still refuse to evolve into this new world. They say your brain will have a meltdown, I say
that you’ll suffer from a severe aneurism when the magic overflowing in your brain finally
causes too much stress on your blood vessels.”
Harry snorted “That explains the migraines;” he said more to himself than the doctor “I
don’t suppose you have a method to slow down my untimely demise then do you?”

“You’re taking this remarkably well for a fifteen year old,” the doctor observes “care to
explain why?”

“Not really,” he answered “but I do believe I have found a cure, that’s all you need to know.”

The doctor sighed and flipped through Harry’s magical and muggle medical file, the two
were distinctly different in detail, with the muggle one, in his opinion, being much more
useful for judging his patient’s health. Wizards really need to learn biology and proper
medical procedures if they want their population to actually increase and stay increased
for any period of time.

“I’ll need to take an MRI of your brain, but as you have already guessed, there may be a
problem with that if your magic interferes with its power.”

“I figured something like that would happen,” Harry conceded “if I were to tell you I knew a
spell that would allow the MRI machine to run on magic, would you let me cast it?”

The doctor looked to Harry in surprise “How long would it last?”

“Theoretically?” he asked “Indefinitely.”

“Wouldn’t people notice one of our most expensive and energy demanding machines no
longer running on electricity?” he asked, sounding just a tad bit excited.

“I’ll also put a muggle notice-me-not charm on the machine so no one will question the
machine’s ability to function without electricity, I can do it now actually, if you’ll let me?”

The doctor coughed “I hope you’re aware, Mister Potter, that should this fail and the
machine become ruined, you are liable for damages, contract or not. Those machines
are expensive.”

Harry nodded “Of course, if you’ll show me the way?”

After a rather long walk, the two finally arrived in the MRI room. The doctor stepped
aside so Harry could perform his magic uninterrupted.

Harry cast a quick locking charm on the door so they wouldn’t be disturbed before turning
to the large, cylindrical like machine, and waving his wand in many intricate patterns while
chanting a spell under his breath. The good doctor could barely make out what he was
saying, but he guessed it sounded like Latin.

Magic steadily flowed out of Harry’s wand and into the machine in a yellow light, growing
in brightness as he reached the apex of his spell. Finally, with a final jab towards the
machine, a burst of yellow light flooded the room, causing the doctor to shield his eyes,
signifying the end of the spell.

“I believe now would be the best time to check if the spell worked, doctor” Harry motioned
to the machine when the doctor could see again. The doctor nodded and rushed into the
room adjacent the machine’s where several computers were turned on and running.

“Amazing,” he heard the robotic voice of the doctor say through the speakers “It’s
working, It’s actually working! And your magic isn’t affecting it at all!”

Harry watched the machine be tested, the bed going in and out of the cylindrical hole in
the machine showing them both that it was indeed working. While the doctor was testing
the machine, Harry cast a quick notice-me-not charm on the entire room, including the
doctor’s current room, which didn’t exactly turn muggles away from the room; it just
reduced their need to know anything about it. If it actually caused any problems, he
could always remove it.

“Thank you Mister Potter, I mean it,” the doctor shook his hand “unfortunately, we can’t
give you that scan today, it would be too suspicious for someone to arrive without a
life-threatening disease and attain an MRI scan, I’ll have to book you in two weeks from
now, is that okay?”

Harry frowned “I’ll be at Hogwarts.”

“Can’t you get permission from your guardian and the headmaster to leave for the day?
This is rather important . . .” Harry shook his head in the negative.

“No one but you and one other Medi-witch know of my disease, and I intend to keep it
that way. In fact, I intend to swear you to secrecy after out appointment is over.”

The doctor nodded his head in understanding “Do you have no other way to get here then?”

“I can make a portkey,” Harry said warily “it’s illegal, but so long as nobody notices it
should be okay. However, our next appointment will need to be a month from now if I am
to use it and come back before my absence is noticed.”

“Ah, I see,” he nodded “then you can go and I’ll see you in a month then; I’ll send the
exact details to you via owl mail, if that’s okay?”

Harry nodded “Just send the date and time of the appointment, nothing else should be in
the letter, not even your name.”

The doctor nodded “It’s done, I thank you again Mister Potter and I’ll see you in a month’s time.

Harry left to buy some shoes as his cover for being gone that morning from the inn.
Hogwarts once again loomed on the horizon, but this time, he had other, more important
things, on his mind.
Chapter: 20
Chapter 21: The Room of Requirement
Harry and Archie were casually walking back to their common room, the latter a slight
more casual than Harry. Archie wasn’t sure, but it probably had something to do with the
crowd of Ravenclaw students crowded around them as they walked, all of whom were
staring at Harry with either awe or love in their eyes.

One brave Ravenclaw – a third year, Archie guessed – approached Harry with a picture
and a marker. On closer inspection, Archie noticed that it was a picture of Harry doing one
of his famed bicycle kick shots. The boy obviously wanted Harry’s autograph.

“Um, sir, do you think you can sign my picture?” he asked timidly. Archie almost dropped
his carefully constructed mask of neutrality when a grin threatened to break out on his
face. This would be amusing.

Without breaking stride, Harry casually tilted his head, ever so slightly, to the side so he
could spy the idiotic boy out of the corner of his eyes. Harry knew it was a matter of time
before one of them braved his wrath to try something like this; it was a constant during
his summer holidays whenever he tried to eat dinner that idiots would disturb him for his
autograph (or to just spend time in his presence), why should he expect any different in
a school full of Quidditch fans?

Knowing that if he signed the kid’s picture, everyone in the school would line up for one,
he went for the cleverest approach.

Turning his head a little more, so both his bright green eyes were locked on with the
boy’s, Harry narrowed them dangerously, a promise of pain and torture being conveyed
with just a stare. The boy didn’t stand a chance; with an undignified squeak, he quickly
retreated to the back of the crowd.

Proud of his work, Harry tilted his head in the opposite direction and lazily grinned at the
gaping Archie. No one else dared to ask for an autograph, but that didn’t stop them
following him, or ‘giggle squealing’ in his direction.

When the duo finally made it to their new dorm room, one that looked better suited for
studying than their previous ones with much larger desks and more comfortable
accommodations, Archie cornered his friend.

“What the hell was that down there?” he incredulously asked “you justlooked at him and
he almost shit his pants, are you some sort of Basilisk hybrid?” he asked “has it got
something to do with your Parseltongue abilities?”

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance “Hardly,” he said “it’s an acquired skill, just glare at
people while thinking about the most painful and torturous way of causing them harm,” he
lectured “it helps if you actually mean it though,” he added as an afterthought.

Archie just stared at him incredulously before shouting “That’s the biggest load of
Hippogriff shit I’ve ever heard!” he said “there has to be more to it than that!”

Harry shrugged “Sure, a little Legilimency and a wandless compulsion charm help, but it’s
all in the ‘wanting’ to cause them harm,” Archie didn’t know if he should be weirded out
by how well Harry was lecturing on this particular subject “oddly, your inner feelings are
mirrored well in your eyes, and people get the picture.”

“Whatever,” Archie dismissed “can you believe what Dumbledore said at the feast?
They’re allowing Dementors access to Hogwarts, only on the slight possibility Pettigrew is
hiding here?”

Harry’s back was to Archie, so the brown haired boy didn’t see the dangerous glint in
Harry’s eyes as he spoke “They won’t try anything if they know what’s good for them.”

“You can’t kill Dementors Harry,” Archie frowned “it’s hard to threaten a creature you can’t
kill, let alone harm in any way . . .”

Harry didn’t answer, remaining content with unpacking his school supplies in the
bookshelves mounted on the wall above their personal desks. Their dorm mates had
stayed downstairs, chatting with their friends after a whole summer without seeing each other.

“Did you send out your catalogues yet?” Harry asked, smoothly changing the subject
“from memory, you had a fair few to send,” an image of Cedric, over the summer, slaving
over thousands of pieces of parchment while making them flashed in his mind’s eye.

“Sirius and the elves are taking care of it,” he answered as he fished out something from
his trunk “you want to see the final product?”

Harry accepted the A4-sized piece of parchment, impressed with how nice, yet simple,
the business’ catalogue looked. A simple black cauldron sat in the bottom right corner,
steaming, with a stirrer leaning out of it diagonally. Atop the stirrer sat a black raven, its
small yet beautiful looking body surrounded by the green gasses the cauldron was
producing. The catalogue read:

Monty Black’s Miraculous Concoctions

We Guarantee Perfection in a vial!

No longer feel hampered or distressed over frivolous things such as zits, rashes, scars,
bruises or lack of protection, we have the cure to your ails for the cheapest price, guaranteed!

De-Zitter draught – 1G

Are you getting ready to ask out that ‘special someone’ only to realize you have a horrible
zit marring your beautiful or handsome features? Worry not! We at MBMC guarantee that,
for a small fee, the De-Zitter draught will fix that problem for you in no time at all!

Anti-Rash tonic – 2G 4S

Having problems with cheap brooms causing vicious chafing and leaving rashes? Are you
uncomfortable showing your body off proudly due to pesky and unattractive rashes? You
needn’t worry; MBMC is at your service with this cheap and effective potion! Not only is
it cheap, it is good for multiple uses!

Super Scar Vanisher – 1G 10S

Have you ever been in a dangerous situation, and the only thing you have to show for it
is an unnatural and hideous scar? With the Super Scar Vanisher, all you need to do is
apply a small amount to either side of the scar and it will vanish right before your eyes!

Delores Unbruise – 3G

Got in a fight and need to remove the evidence? Delores Unbruise will remove those ugly
disfigurements from any part of your body, no questions asked!

The ‘Happy Ending’ tonic 1G 15S

Are you planning a special evening with that special someone, only to have he or she
back out because they’re worried about the repercussions? If so, this is the potion for
you! We guarantee eight hours of absolute safety with this ultimate contraceptive!

Custom Brews - ??G

You have a particular potion that is not on this list that you urgently need? Send the name
of the potion to the P.O box listed below and we’ll reply to you within twenty-four hours
whether or not we can brew it for you and the cost!

This is solely dependant on the size of the rash

Does not work with Cursed Scars or Scars inflicted by magic

The naming of this potion had nothing to do with the Senior Undersecretary for the
Minister of Magic or the disgusting things they cure

Yes, we mean unprotected sex

A fee of 5S will be charged for our speedy reply

“There are more terms and conditions on the back,” Archie said, as Harry finished reading
the catalogue “mainly about our guarantee and what not – what do you think?”

“It certainly gets the point across,” he chuckled “I especially like the name of your
anti-bruising potion.”

“That was Sirius’ idea,” Archie chuckled “Cedric thought it was mean until we told him all
about that whore – wait, that’s not right, whore implies that people would pay her for sex . . .”

Harry snorted in agreement as he read through the terms and conditions, finding them
acceptable.

“We’ve arranged for hundreds to be dropped during breakfast tomorrow at all the major
schools in Europe,” Archie explained “with any luck, we’ll be getting orders soon, and then
the cash will start flowing in.”

“We’ll see,” Harry mumbled quietly, hoping Archie was right “I’m gonna hang around here
for a bit, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told his friend while pulling out a book from his trunk.
Archie grunted in response and headed back downstairs, eager to catch up with his
fellow Ravenclaws while Harry relaxed in his new desk chair.

A week into the start of the semester found Harry lounging beside the window
overlooking the mountains surrounding Hogwarts with one of Salazar’s books in hand.
Many who approached him, wanting to speak with him or just be in his presence, figured
he was reading an advanced Runic book.
It was no secret in Ravenclaw how knowledgeable the ebony haired teen was when it
came to his studies. One didn’t simply obtain the number one student for their year four
years in a row and not garner attention from his peers. Often, the number one spot for a
certain year would be a coin toss as the top three or four students were always that
close together in marks. Unfortunately for those Harry’s year, he was simply too far
ahead of everyone. It got to the point where his peers merely fought for second place;
knowing first was just going to be his regardless.

Harry didn’t do anything to dissuade them of their way of thinking – If they thought he
was some intellectual genius, let them. It simply gave him cause to ignore them if he had a
book in his hand, something he took advantage of almost constantly. Harry would easily
admit to anyone that asked that he was somewhat anti-social, and not a ‘people’ person.
Which is why it frustrated him to no end when people still insisted on trying to befriend him
while knowing this – it’s not like he altered his personality for the public, everyone who
cared to look knew what kind of person he was.

Harry didn’t see himself as mean or cruel; the way he saw it was he generally dislikes
everyone until he gets to know them well enough to think otherwise. However, he also
doesn’t really like getting to know people he dislikes.

It really was a vicious cycle that Harry had no interest in changing; it seemed to be
working, after all.

That sort of mentality allowed him to spend times like this in silence, surrounded by
beautiful scenery and – generally – a peaceful environment . . .

“Harry!” Penelope Clearwater, the Head girl, called loudly from across the room in an
irritated voice “Cedric Diggory is at the door, he wants to speak with you, it seems urgent!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

Getting up from his comfy seat, he made his way across the room to the entrance to the
Ravenclaw common room to see a winded Cedric, hands on his knees, with an angry
expression on his face.

“Harry!” he called urgently when the green eyed boy stepped out of the common room
and into the corridor “The Dementors attacked Archie when he was watching me during
Quidditch practice,” he informed urgently “he’s in the hospital wing, I came to get you as
soon as Madam Pomfrey said he’d be okay.”

“It’s always something,” he mumbled under his breath, quietly enough so Cedric couldn’t
hear. It was true enough though; every time he managed to find time to himself,
something would come along and royally rape that idea in the ass “give me a second.”

Walking back into the common room, the door was still slightly open enough that he didn’t
have to answer an intellectual riddle “Does anyone have a bar of chocolate on them?”

It was almost laughable how many people rocketed out of their chairs to offer him their
chocolate bars. One girl, however, sat in the corner with her friends, blissfully ignoring him
while munching on her chocolate bar. Making a quick decision, Harry pinched her half
eaten chocolate bar right out of her hands and walked back out of the room, leaving a
shocked first year behind wondering what in Merlin’s name just happened.
“Harry!” Cedric scolded “You just stole candy from a first year!” he sounded appalled,
Harry wondered why.

“I know,” Harry replied dryly “funny, right?”

“No!” damn Hufflepuffs “she looked like she was about to cry.”

“That’s even funnier,” Harry reasoned, ignoring the gob smacked Hufflepuff beside him
as the two made their way to the Hospital wing.

The two arrived in the hospital wing to see Dumbledore, Flitwick, McGonagall, and Fudge
arguing heatedly in the far corner while Pomfrey fussed over the pale and twitching form
of Archie.

“I told them this would happen,” he heard the fussing Medi-witch mutter under her breath
as she performed several heating charms on Archie and forced calming draughts down his
throat “but did they listen? Nope!” she grumbled “irresponsible gits!”

“Madam?” Harry interrupted the woman’s grumbling dryly, trying to break her out of her
ranting “give him this, it’ll help.”

The woman spun around at the sound of Harry’s voice and almost reflexively began to
scold him before spotting the chocolate bar in his hands. They really should stock the stuff
this year if this was a sign of things to come.

“You two shouldn’t be here,” she turned around after feeding Archie some chocolate “it’s
almost curfew!”

“That’s what I said,” Harry agreed “but Cedric here – rudely I might add – pulled me from
my reading time and practically dragged me down here, appalling behaviour, if you ask me.”

“I did not!” Cedric denied while Pomfrey ignored them.

“Stop being a prat Harry,” Archie chuckled weakly from his bed, the chocolate having done
its job “and just ignore him Cedric, reacting to him will just encourage him.”

“I resent that,” Harry smirked down at his friend “what have I told you about accepting
candy from Dementors?”

“This isn’t a laughing matter Mister Potter!” Pomfrey scolded while Archie rasped out a
laugh at the joke.

“I hope you enjoyed your chocolate,” Cedric glared at Harry “he stole it from a first year
before coming!”

“‘Stole’ is such a harsh word,” Harry complained “I prefer ‘sequestered’.”

“Hah,” Archie laughed “he actually stole the girl’s candy? That’s funny.”

“See?” Cedric didn’t look pleased.

“It’s not funny!” he replied hotly.

“You boys quiet down and behave!” Madam Pomfrey hissed “I need to speak with the
headmaster for a few moments, don’t leave that bed Mister Montague!”

“Yes ma’am” he saluted the Medi-witch, ignoring her glare.

Once Pomfrey joined the other adults in their heated argument, about the Dementor’s
presence no doubt, Harry turned to Archie and asked “Can you walk?”

Archie frowned and got up from his bed, glad that he was still wearing the clothes he was
wearing before he passed out. His head felt a little dizzy at first, but other than that, he
was fine.

“Alright, let’s sneak out. I’m not waiting around here with Fudge in the room,” Harry
frowned “the urge to kill him is just too great to risk.”

Knowing he wasn’t kidding, Cedric, Archie and Harry snuck out of the room before
Pomfrey could notice. The scolding they’d receive if she spotted them trying to run would
be annoying to say the least.

Once they were a safe distance away from the hospital wing, Archie felt it safe to slow
down and say what was on his mind.

“Harry, mate,” he began slowly, a hint of desperation in his voice “I never truly
understood what was so bad about Dementors, well, I did, but experiencing it first hand
is a completely different thing all together . . .”

“What I think he’s trying to say is,” Cedric picked up for the recently recovered
Ravenclaw “we want to know a way to defend against the Dementors. I’ve read about
them in my Defence books, but none of them tell you how to combat one, just to avoid
them if possible . . .”

Harry sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t feel like tutoring
anyone, he was certain he’d most definitely be cajoled into tutoring a younger student,
as per the Ravenclaw house rules, this year, anyone else would just be annoying.

“Well, there’s a few ways to combat a Dementor,” Harry began “one is a method widely
recognized as universally unreliable, and that’s to set them on fire.”

“Why is that universally unreliable?” Archie asked “those cloaks don’t look to resistant to
flame, and I can do a mean Incendio.”

“What the first thing you noticed when the Dementors approached you Archades,” Harry
asked with a frustrated sigh.

Archie’s eyes glazed over as he began to tremble slightly, the memory seemed to still be
fresh in his mind “Cold, I felt cold and like I would never feel happiness again . . .”

“Exactly,” Harry spoke “you felt cold. Dementors exude a frost like aura around them,
freezing nearly everything in a ten meter radius. Conjuring flame in such conditions is
usually impossible.”

“What other methods are there then?” Cedric asked, looking to Archie with a worried frown.

“There are plenty of methods, but the simplest one at the moment for me to teach you
would be the use of the Patronus charm,” Harry answered “usually, wizards and witches
our age can’t perform the spell very well, but you two are fairly competent when it comes
to practising magic, so it should be okay.”

“I’ve heard of that spell,” Archie said with a frown “it’s based off positive emotions and
exudes an aura opposite to the Dementor’s one pretty much . . .”

“Well, that’s the gist of it,” Harry agreed “follow me,” Harry ordered before stepping into
an empty and unused classroom they were passing and casting several locking charms on
the door before turning to his two friends.

“I’m only going to show you this once, so pay attention,” with a flick of his wrist, Harry’s
wand was magically summoned into his hand“Expecto Patronum,” he spoke the incantation
loudly and clearly while showing the necessary wand movement.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, but a mere second after Harry used the spell, a
brilliant white light shot out from his wand, forcing Archie and Cedric to shield their eyes
briefly. When they regained their visibility, they were shocked to see a waist height feline
like creature circling Harry while brushing up against him.

“It’s a black panther,” Harry elaborated “It took me a while to figure it out, seeing as its
skin is technically white,” he deadpanned “this is what is called a corporeal Patronus; it’s
what you can expect to conjure when you master the spell. It works by forcing the
Dementor to feed off the positive energy it exudes and attacking them once you get it in
its corporeal form,” Harry explained “don’t expect to make a corporeal Patronus for a
while though, it will take time. At first you’ll most likely just produce a white mist from the
tip of your wand that will form a shield instead of what you see here.”

“What do we do to get our shield into corporeal animals then?” Cedric asked, while
absently petting the panther’s head. He was shocked to discover that the phantom
looking creature was completely solid and felt quite warm to the touch.

“This is one of the few advanced spells you will learn that’s power relies on a perfect
balance of power and emotion,” Harry lectured “the stronger the emotion of happiness,
the better chances of success you’ll have. Of course, if you don’t put enough power
behind the spell, you could be getting a blow job as you cast it and still only produce mist.”

“Does it have to be a memory, or can it be a thought?” Archie asked, he too joining in

with Cedric in petting the corporeal feline, who seemed to be enjoying the attention.

“As long as it makes you feel happy, it doesn’t matter,” Harry shrugged “there’s three
levels of strength for this spell. The first is the mist you will most likely produce first to
form a shield, the second will create a phantom manifestation to protect you and the third
will create a corporeal manifestation that can also combat physically. Many can perform the
first two steps, it’s the third that everyone has trouble with” Harry dismissed his Patronus
with a flick of his wand “I hope you’ll need no further instruction with this then?”

Archie chuckled nervously “Show me the wand movements again real quick?”

Harry did so, despite his growing desire to kick Archie in the balls.

Harry sighed tiredly as he casually strolled around the castle alone late in the afternoon.
It seemed that this year, more than other years, the fifth year students figured the
common room was their domain to study for their OWLs. He’d never noticed how annoying
it could be until people he shared classes with begun to treat him like a professor, asking
him questions about their studies and expecting him to answer just because he shared the
class with them.
After refusing to answer the seventh person who came up to him to ask a question, he
decided to go for a walk around the castle to get some peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, his last peaceful domain wasn’t much of a secret anymore, with Cedric and
Archie knowing about it. Soon enough, someone will spot one of the two entering the
room and he’d be left to hole up in his room once again for some peace and quiet.

What he needed was a room no other student in the castle knew about, one he could sit
in peacefully and do as he wished without worrying about people questioning him on
what he was reading, or annoying him in general.

It was too bad that simply ‘needing’ such a room wouldn’t make it appear out of thin air,
or he’d be in business. So, with that thought in mind, Harry continued to stroll along the
long corridors of Hogwarts while idly playing with a galleon coin as he did so.

Flicking the coin into the air, Harry misjudged the trajectory of the coin’s downward path
when an odd portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, trying to teach trolls to dance the ballet,
caused him to lose concentration and miss catching the coin. The galleon fell to the
ground with a soft tinkle and rolled behind him a few meters before coming to a stop.

Frowning, Harry turned back and picked it up without thinking before returning to the
task at hand, his need to find a new place in the castle where he could study and relax in peac

A weird whooshing sound accompanied by a nondescript door materializing out of the

wall caught the attention of the young Quidditch star. Harry frowned and looked down
both ends of the hall to make sure he was alone before investigating.

Certain that he was indeed alone, Harry opened the newly materialized door to find himself
in a room that was too good to be true. A room the size of his study back at Moony Nights
with numerous bookshelves (each filled to the brim with old looking tomes), a large
fireplace crackling away innocently with a large and comfortable looking chair placed right
near it.

The style of the room, strangely enough, also matched his room back at Moony Nights,
which was quite suspect considering he was certain that no room in Hogwarts was
decorated in such a way.

The room was perfect for what he needed, Harry thought, though he guessed it would
probably be a bit too much to ask if it were just a little bigger so he could also practise
some of his spells, should he get bored. It didn’t matter though; this room would suit his
needs perfectly.

Harry was about to go examine the tomes on the closest bookshelf when, miraculously,
the room started to morph before his eyes into something much different and infinitely
better. Where the room was originally a modestly sized study, it now connected to a
larger, circular shaped room with a high dome ceiling. The room also had a human
shaped dummy placed in its direct centre with several targets painted on its wooden body.

It was surreal to observe the room change before his eyes. It was as if it responded to
what he wanted. . .

“No fucking way,” Harry exclaimed in awe. Decided to test his theory, Harry focused on
the fact that he needed the dummy in the middle of the room to be more responsive and
more life-like if it were to be useful for his purposes.

The dummy flashed once brightly before its wooden arms sprang to life, followed by its
wooden legs. The dummy shook its head a couple of times before circling around the point
it was originally attached to in the centre of the room, its face never leaving the spot
Harry was standing at.

“There’s no way I’m this lucky. . .” he mumbled to himself, slightly in awe at the infinite
usefulness this room possessed, especially if it did what he thought it did.

‘I need to know every detail there is to know about this room,’ Harry thought clearly in his
head. He almost giggled like the little school girls that constantly followed him when a huge
scroll fell from the ceiling and landed before his feet. Unrolling the scroll, he began to read:

The Room of Requirement

Congratulations, Harry James Potter, on your discovery of, truly, the most wonderful
room Hogwarts has to offer.

The Room of Requirement can only be found by those who are in need, that pass by the
portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, trying to teach trolls to dance the ballet three times.
Your need must be at the forefront of your mind while passing by the portrait three times
if the room is to appear for you.

The Room’s main purpose is in its name - to provide the occupant with what they require.
The list of things one can find in this room is infinite, but of course, there are always
limitations on such magnificent phenomenon:

Anything the room conjures for the occupant cannot be removed from the room. You will
find that it will instantly be destroyed if you attempt to do so.

One cannot enter the room if it already in use and the person entering does not know
the reason the room is in use for.

The room itself is unplottable and any additional wards one tries to add will instantly fail.

Objects brought into the room or occupants that are brought into the room cannot be
altered or changed. The room can only conjure, alter, and use its magic on the things it
creates, nothing more, nothing less.

The objects or effects the room can create are somewhat limited to what the occupant
knows of and understands, and also what the room and the castle itself knows and
understands.

Enjoy the wonders this room has to offer Harry James Potter, for they are now yours to
enjoy, should you wish it. The room’s only limitation is that of your imagination.

“No fucking way. . .” Harry eloquently exclaimed in awe. The possibilities were endless!
No longer will he find himself in need of a sparring partner for his magical or swordsmanship
abilities. No longer will he have to endure the other Ravenclaws annoying him when he
wanted peace and quiet. No longer will he have to hide his abilities if he wants to test his
capabilities!
‘I need that dummy to have an equal amount of skill in magic that I do, without the ability
to harm or kill me’ Harry focused intently, hoping beyond hope that this would work.

A large grin spread across his face when the dummy flashed once again, only for it to
transform into a mirror image of himself, though his eyes were a soulless black instead of
his mother’s vibrant green.

With a flick of his wand, Harry conjured a whip of flame from the tip of his wand. Flinging
it at the dummy, Harry’s grin only widened to an almost psychotic level when the dummy
stabbed his wand into the air, causing a wall of stone and earth to rise up from the
ground and defend against the whip.

What better way to improve your abilities then by sparring against someone who is just
as good as you?!

For the first time in a long, long time. Harry James Potter was truly excited!

“It seems to have worked better than I expected, Mister Potter,” the good doctor
informed the young man after the MRI scan was completed.
“Oh?” the boy exclaimed curiously “how so?”

“You see, we can configure the MRI to detect a number of things, one of them being
heat. Tell me, Mister Potter, in what way would you describe the feeling of magic flowing
through your body?”

“Warmth,” Harry explained, understanding where the doctor was coming from “you can
detect magic using this machine then?”

“In a way, yes,” the doctor began to explain with excitement “You see, magic cannot be
detected with the use of technology, simply because it has no physical presence, only spiritual.

Harry frowned thoughtfully “So what you’re trying to say is that you can’t actively detect
magic yet with any of your scanners, but you can determine its existence and presence by
its affect on other objects?” he asked “Kind of like dark matter?”

“I’m impressed, Mister Potter, not many wizards can boast about possessing much
knowledge about astrophysics.”

Harry waved off the praise “I don’t know much about astrophysics, I learnt about dark
matter on the discovery channel – it’s rather fascinating, actually.”

“Regardless, you’re very much right. The way in which I can detect magic in your brain is
by actually trying to scan the effects it’s having on you rather than the magic itself,” he
explained “here, take a look.”

The doctor showed him the monitor screen where a picture of what Harry assumed was
his brain was displayed next to a regular brain.

“As you can see, this is a thermal scan of your brain and that of a regular muggle’s. The
difference is remarkable, but I figure that even for a wizard, these results aren’t normal,”
the doctor was pointing to thick streaks of red flowing through his brain, dangerously
close to the arteries “the excess magic flowing through your brain is causing an
abnormal amount of heat, which is overheating and stressing the arteries, eventually,
the heat will cause the arteries to melt and you’ll haemorrhage into your brain and die.”
“Lovely,” Harry responded dryly “assuming the temperature doesn’t increase, can you
give an estimate as to how long I have before such an unfortunate thing as that occurs?”

The doctor frowned in thought as he performed some calculations before giving his
answer “Well, assuming the heat the excess magic is giving off doesn’t increase
exponentially any time soon, I theorize that the strain on the arteries will finally become
too much in roughly five years, though the severity of the migraines will only increase until
that time, I’d assume, in proportion with the increase in stress.”

“Is there no muggle medication that could decrease the pain?” Harry asked “I don’t think I
need to tell you how sudden migraines could be bad for my health in my world.”

“Yes, of course,” the doctor frowned as the two made their way back to his office “I’ll
write you a permanent prescription for the best pain killer I know, it’s the best I can do,”
he said dejectedly “I’m afraid we’re only ahead of our magical counterparts in medical
diagnosis; I wouldn’t operate on you even if you forced me, we just don’t have the
information available to help . . .”

“That’s fine doctor,” Harry reassured as he looked over the prescription “I have something
in mind to fix this, with the time frame you’ve given me and the pain killers, everything
should be fine . . .”

“Do let me know, will you?” he said with a chuckle “as loathe as I am to admit it, I’m rather
fascinated by all of this, your condition especially.”

Harry smirked in the doctor’s direction “Don’t lie,” he said “you aren’t as loathe to admit it
as you say you are.”

The doctor only answered with an amused chuckle as he handed Harry a small slip of paper.

With a tired sigh, Harry pushed passed the door to the Ravenclaw common room, intent
on taking a half an hour shower before passing out on his bed. Tonight’s training session
was rather brutal, much more than usual, with their game against Germany coming up
soon; coach had them there training until midnight.
“Harry!” Archie’s voice exclaimed from beside the fireplace “About time you got back!”

Harry looked over to where Archie was sitting, surprised that he was still awake at this
time. He was the only person in the common room other than himself, the rest of the
students having already retired to their rooms for sleep.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Archades?” Harry asked, as he saw down heavily on the
chair across from the grinning boy.

“I may have a lead on one of the ingredients you asked for,” the boy’s grin only widened
when he noticed he had Harry’s complete attention “I’ve been fishing around for rumours
that could prove true in Greece, and I found one I think is rather likely in being credible.”

“A rumour that is likely to be credible?” Harry asked with a raised brow “that doesn’t sound
like much of a solid lead.”

Archie just waved Harry off “It’s the best you could ever hope for, especially with this
particular ingredient. Gorgons, after all, are supposedly a long extinct race of vicious
female warriors who were apparently cursed by the gods for stealing the husbands of
influential women.”

“Skanky hoes,” Harry joked, but realized his use of Ebonics was completely lost on Archie.

“Anyway, there’s an Urban legend amongst the natives of Naxos, a small island off the
east coast of Greece,” Archie began “they say that women who treat their husbands
poorly and don’t show them any appreciation will wind up losing them forever to the sea –
crazy right?”

“I’ve learned to realize that with every legend, especially in the magical world, there is
always some truth,” Harry motioned for Archie to continue.

“Well, right, I looked into it further, and apparently, there have been fourteen
disappearances in the last decade, that’s not the strange part though; apparently,
every person who disappeared was a man; not only that, their bodies were also never found.”

“Never found?” Harry echoed “You’d imagine the law enforcement would want to
investigate such a thing as fourteen unexplained disappearances. . .”

“That’s the thing though, they did look. Get this though, after a few weeks or so of
searching, a stone sculpture of the disappeared man appears washed up on the shore,
usually broken, as if it made a long journey,” Archie grinned “and unless there’s a serial
killer who goes around kidnapping his prey, killing them, sculpturing them and returning
said statues, broken, to the main land, I’d say there’s something fishy going on.”

“Almost as if the men were petrified and tossed out to sea,” Harry said dryly “a theorized
ability of the Gorgon has always been to petrify anyone with a gaze.”

“Right, but that’s not even the craziest part,” Archie continued “every man who
disappeared had a wife who was cheating on them, a wife who decided to shag some
random native, before they disappeared.”

“That would make them a viable suspect;” Harry frowned “did anything come from it?”

“Nope, the wives usually didn’t care, but there was never any proof that they were
involved, and I don’t think there will ever be,” Archie frowned “it’s a bit of a ridiculous
coincidence that every single one of the reported disappeared males had unfaithful wives
– if you ask me, the Gorgon, if she exists, picked her prey based on that and lured them
out to the beach, where she would capture them.”

“Being magical, it wouldn’t be that hard for them to accomplish,” Harry mused “or disguise
a head of venomous snakes, for that matter.”

Archie snorted “Right, not to mention that a man who’s just discovered his wife has
cheated on him would be feeling rather vindictive,” he pointed out “that and more than a
little susceptible to seduction tactics.”

“You think the Gorgon could be somewhere on Naxos?” Harry asked “surely someone else
would have made this connection and realized of a Gorgon’s existence . . .”

“That’s just it; I don’tthink the Gorgon is on Naxos, I think she’d be aroundit.”

“You mean like in the ocean?” Harry asked rhetorically “there’d have to be some sort of
underwater structure nearby; Gorgon’s don’t exactly have gills, but they are said to be
able to hold their breath for long period of time. . .”

“A useful talent for one of their kind, I’m sure,” Archie snorted in amusement.

“A temple maybe?” Harry asked, ignoring the sexual joke “Gorgons were hunted for their
blood thousands of years ago; maybe this one went into hiding, hoping to avoid capture.”

“Yeah,” Archie said wistfully “blood taken from the left side of a Gorgon is said to have
been an instantly fatal poison while the blood from the right side could bring the dead back
to life. I hope you know that we’re splitting the blood fifty-fifty, that poison would make
the best enchanted weapons!”

Amused by his friend’s enthusiasm, Harry just shook his head “I’ll look into possible
temples surrounding the island of Naxos; if the Gorgon is hiding, its best bet would be
inside a temple no one has entered in thousands of years. . .” Harry trailed off at the end
of his sentence as he looked into the fire, seemingly in thought.

“You think there’d be magic protecting the temple, don’t you?” Archie asked knowingly.

“Definitely,” Harry agreed “there’s no other explanation for a temple not being found by
muggle satellites and sonar technology,” he explained “You did good Archades; let me
know when you have something else.”

“Don’t compliment me,” Archie shivered “It’s weird, I feel sullied and unusual.”

“Your face is doing a good enough job at making you look sullied and unusual,” Harry
grinned “I suppose I shouldn’t add to that by complimenting you, good night bitch.”

“Are you calling me ugly?!” Archie hollered at Harry’s back as the ebony haired teen
ascended the stairs, ignoring his irate friend.

“What does he know, right Stephy-bear?”

The teddy bear sitting beside him, dressed in a mini Beauxbatons uniform with long dark
hair topped with a powder blue hat, looked back at him innocently with black plastic eyes.
He continued to stare at it, as if expecting it to answer if he looked at it long enough.

“Yeah, you’re right, I am the epitome of manliness . . . hey, did he call me a bitch?!”

“Mate, there’s just no point, we’re never going to win the Quidditch cup at this rate,”
Cedric exclaimed gloomily from his seat in the defence class with his Ravenclaw friends.
“The new recruits are that bad?” Archie asked with a frown as Harry continued to doodle
away in his notebook, completely oblivious to the world around him. Archie just said he
doodled though because he didn’t want to admit he didn’t understand what it was Harry
was writing down.

Cedric stammered at Archie’s question, not sure how to answer without inadvertently
insulting someone “It’s not that they’re bad . . .”

“That means they’re bad,” Archie said with a nod “you’re a good enough seeker though,
why don’t you just end the games as quickly as possible?”

“Better than ‘good enough’ from what I hear,” Harry said from his position on the other
side of Archie mysteriously.
“Be that as it may,” Cedric had flushed in embarrassment from the praise “it’s still rather
hard to compete on a comet 260 when your opponents are all getting better brooms than
you are. I usually like to think it’s the seeker’s skill and not the broom that makes them, but
it’s just so hard to keep up with the likes of the Nimbus makes every other team seems to have

Archie frowned “School Snitches should be different to professional ones, they’re easier
to catch and less erratic, I think,” he mused “Harry, you’ve seen both up close, is there
much of a difference?”

Without stopping what he was doing, Harry answered “A league level Snitch is like a school
level one on snuff dust, while a national league Snitch is like a league level one on snuff
dust and completely shit-faced drunk. There’s no way you can predict their movements
like you can here, they’re completely retarded.”

Cedric pursed his lips “Do you have to use that word?”

“I’m sorry, do you prefer ‘poopy-faced drunk’?” Harry replied sarcastically.

“You know that’s not the word I meant!” Cedric snapped, his cheeks flushed in both
embarrassment and anger. He wasn’t that much of a prude; at least he’dgotten laid!

“Enough ladies,” Archie interrupted, feeling incredibly pleased with himself after having
diffused the situation in such a cool way “what Harry’s saying though is, these idiots
chasing the snitch on the broom here will never make it pro because it’s just that much
different. Players like you who value flying skill, just as much as speed, are the ones
scouts look out for.”

“Like Charles,” Harry pointed out.

“Like Weasley number two,” Archie agreed.

“That still doesn’t help me though,” he mumbled “I’ll still lose because of my shitty,” he shot
a glare at Harry “broom and Hufflepuff will lose the house and Quidditch cup again. . .”

“Oh will you stop whining, besides, the professor’s here,” Archie exclaimed pleasantly,
he’d much rather expend his energy by ogling the new, beautiful, defence professor. The
beautiful ex-Auror would definitely make OWL study this year much more pleasant. The
look on Cedric’s face showed that he agreed wholeheartedly.

Filius Flitwick was faced with quite the conundrum, one that he wasn’t sure how to
resolve. It was tradition in the house of Ravenclaw that all students who pass their OWLs
had to at least tutor one student in any year below them before taking the exams.
Actually, to call it a tradition was making light of the Ravenclaw house rule, it
wasstrongly recommended.
In fact, according to records, the last student who refused to tutor someone was refused
the right to partake in the OWL examination.

That situation was slightly different than the one he found himself in now though. While
Harry Potter certainly wasn’t the most pleasant company, he didn’t decline because he
didn’t want to. Well, maybe he would have if he had the time to do so, but that was
neither here nor there.

How could he force one of his best students to tutor someone when he had to deal with
not only his OWL examinations, but also his national Quidditch responsibilities, his own
independent studies and the management of his businesses? Especially with knowing how
much time tutoring could take if you are to be successful in teaching someone.

Also, there was the problem with what the child would teach should he be forced to
tutor someone. Despite what many people thought, he was not ignorant in any way
shape or form, he knew the boy’s methods were far from conventional, but they seemed
to work for him. In fact, Filius had spied the boy using silent casting in his second year, a
feat not properly mastered until well beyond one’s NEWT studies.

This was why the tutoring system was so successful, not only did students get to learn
from their experienced professors, but they also got to learn from their extremely
clever housemates the ways in which they too learned the material. It assures that
Ravenclaw will always remain at the top academically. Minerva often boasted the abilities
of one of her little lions, but never would he hear her try and compare the girl with Harry,
there was just no contest, even when the boy was back in third year himself.

Given the facts, there was really only one option he could take, and to be honest, it
wasn’t that much of a sacrifice given the boy’s current class performance.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

“Come in,” he called out, cursing his annoyingly squeaky voice; it often made him the
subject of ridicule.

The door opened, allowing Harry Potter entrance. The boy had a bored look on his face
as he entered carrying a book with markings on it that he couldn’t recognize.

“You called for me professor?”

“Ah, Harry, please sit,” Flitwick motioned to the chair on the opposite side of his desk
“would you like some tea?”

“No thank you, I’m fine,” he took a swig from his flask “you know, your head girl is rather
rude, barging into the dormitories uninvited and what not. You should really see to it that
if we are not permitted access to the girl’s rooms, that they aren’t allowed access to ours.”

Flitwick chuckled at the boy’s annoyance “I am under no illusion about what night time
activities occur in my house, Mister Potter, I’d imagine if that such a rule were created,
you would be the subject of many of your peers’ ire.”

“Sacrifices must be made for the good of the school,” Harry replied indifferently.

“You mean for the good of Harry Potter?” Flitwick asked, amusement clearly dancing in his eye

“Now you’re talking semantics professor, what is it that you wanted?”

“I’m sure you know of the requirements Ravenclaw house demands of her students if they
wish to take the OWL examinations,” he hinted.

“Let’s dispense with the false pleasantries, we both know that I know this, and we both
know that it was generally expected that I be exempt from this rule due to my duties for
England.”
“I like to think pleasantries between us will never become false, Harry,” he said tiredly
“but you know that I cannot show favouritism towards any student, despite their
situation,” seeing the beginnings of a frown on Harry’s face, he raised his hand “that
does not mean I cannot make compromises, now does it?”

Harry gave him a searching, seemingly analysing his motives, before smirking at his head
of house “You wouldn’t happen to have shared your thoughts with Minerva now have you?”

“Professor Minerva, Harry,” Flitwick chided with a chuckle “I may have had a few
discussions regarded her newfound desire to show us her support during our competitive
Quidditch matches.”

“Weird, that,” Harry grinned “I personally think the blue works to accentuate her
impressive bust . . .”

Harry tilted his head to the right to dodge the spray of tea that came from the other side
of the desk from the little professor “Share those thoughts, do you?” he asked his head
of house.

Harry wanted to laugh as the elderly champion dueller became flustered and began to
organize the papers around on his desk “Yes, well, what if I were to say that you were
exempt from any homework I assign in any of my classes provided you can prove to me
you do not need it?”

“I suppose telling you that I can conjure a Fiendfyre and control the flame wouldn’t help
then?” he asked hopefully.

“Something truthful, my boy,” his head of house chided.

“What about a personal modification to an already complicated charm then?” Harry asked
“I assure you that the headmaster would be most interested in it, at least I think he should be.”

“Go on then, don’t forget the ability to do as you please in my class is on the line,” he
joked, knowing such a thing would be wondrous in the boy’s book.

With a clockwise swirl of his wand and an extremely happy thought, a white panther leapt
out of his wand and circled Flitwick. Harry was amused to see the professor look slightly
disappointed.

“You’re only going to show me the Patronus charm?” Harry almost laughed at the absurd
statement that only went to show how high expectations were of him, luckily for the
professor though, he wasn’t quite done.

The large cat stopped behind the professor, who had gotten up from his chair to observe
his Patronus, and hefted the little man up onto its shoulder from between its legs.

Flitwick squeaked in shock “What in Merlin’s name?”

“Professor,” the disembodied voice of Harry Potter spoke, but to the little charm
professor’s shock, Harry lips hadn’t moved. The boy merely motioned down to the
physical Patronus “I bet this is the first pussy you’ve seen in a long time,” the panther
looked like it smirked after it finished speaking.

“Mister Potter!” Flitwick screamed scandalized “I’ll have you know that as a world class
duelling champion, I’ve had my fair share of . . .”

“I think that for the sake of both our sanities, you should not finish that sentence,” the
real Harry spoke this time “the spell isn’t very efficient for long distance messaging, but
anything within 10 kilometres should be possible, I haven’t really tested it.”

“Remarkable,” the young professor admired “truly splendid,” he poked the quickly agitating
feline as Harry dismissed it.

“I only have to tutor one person and it will only be for this year?” Harry asked.

“Yes, of course,” the little professor was in a daze “and you’ll no longer have to do any
assignments I give in my class – provided you teach me that spell first!”

Harry nodded in satisfaction, he may have to tutor some lower year, but at least he
didn’t have to do those ridiculously easy Charms assignments anymore.

After another session in the Room of Requirement, Harry was on his way back to the
Ravenclaw common room to get this tutoring business sorted out when a small crowd
caught his attention. The good thing about being a Quidditch star, he had to admit, is
that walking through crowds became a non-issue; people would just scramble away from
you and part the proverbial sea.
“Archades,” Harry spotted his friend “what’s going on?”

The brown haired boy spun around when he heard the voice, but calmed down when he
saw it was Harry “Hey mate,” he greeted “okay, here’s what happened. Lovegood
bumped into Malfoy, Malfoy called her a mudblood and insulted her dead mother and
then Longbottom comes to try and save the day,” he summarized quite successfully.

“Try?” Harry spied Longbottom aiming his wand at Malfoy, who had his two goons ready
to use their meaty fists to solve the problem rather then resort to something as
‘complicated’ as magic.

“Well, he basically just called him an inbred aristocrat with delusions of grandeur,” Archie
summarized.

“He actually said that?” Harry asked doubtfully.

“Well, no, I just translated it from idiot for you,” Archie grinned at his own joke, earning a
snort of amusement from Harry.

“People still call other people ‘mudblood’?” he almost sounded disappointed “that’s so
1980s, and very redneck of them too. . .” that train of thought gave Harry a devious
idea “Hey Archades?”

His friend turned to him once again when Harry started whispering instructions into his ear.
At first Archie seemed confused and incredulous, but the further Harry got into his
explanation (admittedly, a rather long one for a whispered conversation), the more the
boy understood.

“Okay, do you understand?” Harry asked, making sure. He hoped the muggleborn
students of the school caught on to the joke quick enough, he really didn’t want to have
to deal with a bunch of snivelling brats going to the headmaster to have a cry.
“I think so, if this doesn’t work though, we’re not friends and I don’t know you,” he
cleared out with a grin.

“Fine, whatever,” Harry dismissed the issue and vanished around the corner where he
would make his entrance – a rather hard task for a celebrity to accomplish.

“Apologize to her Malfoy or I’ll hex you into next week!” Longbottom threatened, rather
lamely. Personally, Archie thought Harry and he were much more threatening when they
dealt with Flint.

“Hey mud, what’s going on?” Harry’s voice called out over the crowd at Archie, causing
several people to gasp in shock and the general consternation to die down instantly.

“Oh, hey mudblood,” Archie greeted pleasantly “it’s just Malfoy and Longbottom having at
it again, Malfoy was calling Lovegood a mudblood.”

“Is that all?” Harry said with faux disappointment “Mudblood please! That fool wouldn’t
know an insult if it hit him in the face; hey mud, have you had much experience with things
hitting you in the face?” Harry directed the question at the Malfoy heir, who was looking
at him with no small amount of shock.

Archie just made a coughing noise that sounding incredibly like ‘bukake’, earning several
chuckles from those who understood what such a term meant, though most were still
looking at them in shock.

“Regardless of what dear Draco does, or does not, likes getting his face covered with,
we need to get the mud out of here, I have some things I need to do.”

“Foshizzle my mudbizzle,” Archie turned and began to walk away with Harry following
close behind. As Harry passed the slightly dazed looking Luna Lovegood, he smirked in her
direction and was only slightly surprised to see her wink at him. That girl was a strange one.

“Harry, what’s a mudbizzle?” Archie asked, once the two were out of hearing range.

“It doesn’t matter Archades,” Harry answered “by this time tomorrow, I guarantee you
that everyone will be calling everyone else a mudblood and think it’s cool.”

True to his word, the students of the school really did start referring to each other as
mud or mudblood, completely destroying any chance the unintelligent pureblood
supremacists had for insulting their peers.
It was rather amusing to see the professors’ shock when friends would casually greet
each other using the once hated and disgusting term. It was even more amusing to see
their reactions when the professors were told that they were doing it because Harry
Potter was doing it; Amusing and Bizarre.

Regardless of the results of his little pseudo-prank, he still had a task to do.

“You,” Harry pointed to the blonde haired girl with turnip earrings “weird girl.”

Luna Lovegood turned around, slightly surprised that Harry Potter was addressing her
“Hello Harry Potter.”

“Salutations,” he replied dryly “follow me,” he instructed her rather bluntly.

“Foshizzle my mudbizzle,” she replied happily, as she got up from her seat, closed her
book and followed Harry to the seat by the window overlooking the Hogwarts grounds.

“Filius tells me that I need to tutor someone, like everyone else, if I want to take my
OWLs,” he began “I’ve decided that I’m going to tutor you for the remainder of the school term.”

The normally spaced out girl adopted a look of shock before her pleasantly dazed
expression made a reappearance on her features “What brought on this random act of
charity?” she asked “I’m afraid I don’t have any chocolate, the Nargles are taking them
from me,” she frowned “they don’t usually like chocolate though, it’s rather strange.”

“Fascinating,” he ignored her blabbering “read this book, it’s solely based on the theory
behind the laws of transfiguration, I’ll test you on its contents in a month’s time, so make
sure you have it memorized.”

Luna’s already large eyes bulged further out of her skull as Harry dropped the massive
tome on the table between them “You read that in your own time; for the next hour, we’ll
be discussing the difference between Egyptian based hieroglyphic runes and Inca based
hieroglyphic runes, as well as their uses for setting up both offensive and defensive wards.”

The chatter around them died instantly, everyone was eager to see what Harry would
teach the lucky girl who happened to land the boy as her tutor. People’s opinions,
however, changed rather quickly when they heard what he had already tasked her to do
in the first five minutes of their lesson.

“Um,” she began uncertainly “I don’t take Ancient Runes; I’m only a second year. . .”

“You won’t learn this in Ancient Runes,” Harry countered “If I was going to waste my time
while doing this, I’d think of a much more creative way of doing it rather then teaching
you what you can easily learn in your own time. Now, tell me, what do you know of
Egyptian and Inca runes?”

“Nothing,” she exclaimed brightly as Harry frowned and rummaged around in the pocket of
his cardigan before tossing her another impossibly large tome.

“There, more reading material for you,” he clapped his hands “teaching is quite fun,” he
informed the worried girl dryly “You should know that if I don’t see you reading, it means
you have nothing new to learn; which then means that you are therefore asking for me
to teach you something new for you’ve already learnt what I’ve given you; which also
means that you’re ready to discuss whatever it is I’ve taught you and to be tested on it.
Have you already learnt the contents of those tomes Luna?”

Many of the students watching the spectacle were slightly taken aback at the speed in
which the girl pulled out the Transfiguration book and started reading, even more of them
were taken aback when she’d constantly pause in her reading and ask for something to be
explained only for Harry to patiently describe it to her. It seemed that the normally quiet
and reserved boy could become quite talkative and passionate when you ask him the right
questions.

‘Can I be your girlfriend?’ is not one of them.

None of the students were more shocked by the display than Archie was though. The
boy had returned late from a session in the library where he had to help five fourth year
students with a potions assignment only to see Harry scribbling in that damn notebook of
his while occasionally explaining advanced Transfiguration theory to her.

“. . .so conjuration is considered a branch of Transfiguration rather then charms because

you are literally transfiguring air particles into something much more impressive, rather
than using a charm to make them magically appear. Good evening Archades.”

Archie looked between the two several times before responding.

“What the fuck is going on here?” he asked “Who are you and what have you done with
Harry Potter?”

“Do shut up,” Harry snapped “you’re making yourself look like a bigger idiot than usual.”

“Explainthis to me then,” Archie demanded “us mere mortals who make it our business to
study the behaviour of the creature known as Harrius Pottius in its natural habitat are
quite confused by your behaviour, believe it or not.”

“You see what I have to put up with Luna?” Harry asked the girl who was avidly reading
the tome she had received from her new tutor “he constantly comes up with idiotic
statements like this that just make him look and sound more moronic than you previously
thought possible.”

“The Nargles tell me he’s very cute though,” the second year giggled airily as Archie
looked at the two weirdly.

“Do the Nargles know he has a small penis?” Harry asked seriously.

“Shut up Harry!” Archie snapped before looking over to a group of girls who were giggling
in his direction “that’s not true, honestly, he’s just being a dick,” he tried to dissuade the
girls who were whispering amongst themselves.

“The Nargles are telling me that they don’t mind either way,” she said with a smile.

“The male or the female ones?” Harry asked, buying into this nonsense merely because
it seemed to be a good way to annoy Archie.

Luna didn’t answer, instead, she opted to smile mysteriously at the two boys as Archie
raged at his friend “Why can’t you teach me like that?” he whined “I’ve asked you like, a
million times!”

“First, Luna here is a great student. She does what she’s told and lets me get on with my
own business while she’s doing it,” he motioned to his own notebook and the girl reading
her new tomes diligently “Second, she’s infinitely less annoying than you, which isn’t much
of an accomplishment now that I think about,” he ignored Archie’s pout “and thirdly, she
doesn’t ask me stupid questions. Besides, you have a far more important task to do so
snap to it, I’m busy.”

“Miss Lovegood,” Archie dropped to his knees and cupped the second year girl’s hands in
his own “please, resist the temptation that will no doubt make itself known to turn into
this heinous creature,” he faux sobbed while motioning to Harry “he may seem cool at
first, but really, he’s just bitter because he knows he’ll never be as good looking as I am,
and it eats him up on the inside!”

“Do you know he has a teddy-bear that he dresses up as Stephanie Zabini and seeks
council from her?” Harry informed his new student, who coughed into her hand to hide her
laugh “I’ve seen him try to feed it before too, like an incredibly gay and warped tea party
being hosted by a fifteen year old.”

Archie’s face was beet red in embarrassment as several people surrounding them giggled
at the information “Oh yeah?” he challenged, a cruel smirk marring his handsome features
“Harry Potter is still a virgin and likes girls who are just as powerful and smart as him!” he
yelled to the common room, eliciting gasps from the female population while Harry
groaned in annoyance.

“You better sleep with one eye open Archades,” he warned his friend with a tired sigh “I
know I’m going to be feeling particular vengeful before the night is through.”

The boy tried and failed to suppress the shiver the went up his spine, the one that he
always got when he knew something bad was going to happen to him.

Harry nibbled at the sausage that was skewered on his fork liberally while thinking back to
last night’s shenanigans. He had indeed gone up to bed feeling quite vengeful, and due to
that, had decided that he would transfigure Archie’s mattress into a hundred snakes. The
girlish screams of agony were more than enough to sate his lust for revenge, especially
considering the injury Archie had endured.
The doors to the great hall opened with a loud creek, admitting Archie walking slowly over
to the seat opposite Harry; the boy was painfully wincing with every step he took.

Finally, after making his way to the Ravenclaw table, he glared at Harry “I hate you,” he
mumbled before sitting down on the chair and hissing in pain the second his rear end
made contact with the wooden seat “I can’t believe I got bitten on the ass by a fucking
poisonous snake, who does that to their friends?!” he asked rhetorically, while Harry just
ignored him.

A loud set of screeching noises marked the arrival of the Hogwarts owl delivery service.
One of the owls, Harry immediately recognized as Bartholomew while another was
carrying something easily distinguishable, despite its packaging, straight towards the
Hufflepuff table.

A large broom shaped package dropped before the shocked Cedric Diggory causing him to
look around the room wildly. The only person who didn’t seem interested in the package’s
contents was Harry, who was still eating his breakfast and blissfully ignoring everyone
around him as usual.

Going first to the card attached to the package, Cedric plucked it from the brown
wrapping paper and noticed that it was a card addressed to him with his name written on
it in handwriting that seemed oddly familiar. Ripping open the envelope, he read the
message on the small bit of parchment inside:

Happy Birthday

You risked your life for me at the end of last year, this is the least I could do (even though
I didn’t really need the help. . .) Let it be known that I probably wouldn’t have gotten this
for you if it weren’t for the fact that you’d continue bitching pathetically until you got
something of its kind.

HP
“It’s a Firebolt!” one of Cedric’s friends exclaimed in shock as excited whispers broke out
on the Hufflepuff table while jealous ones began on the other three.

“The English national team all use them!”

“They’re said to be the fastest brooms in the world!”

“It does naught to one fifty in ten seconds!”

“They don’t even tell you the price of them at Quidditch stores; they say that if you have
to ask, you probably can’t afford it.”

“We’ll win the Quidditch cup for sure!”

As the excited whispers continued, Cedric continued to stare at Harry in shock while
every other Quidditch fan in the room surrounded the boy to get a better look at his new broom.
Chapter: 21
Chapter 22: Revenge; a dish best served cold

“You know,” Harry heard Sirius’ voice from the doorway “you remind me so much of your
mother when I see you like that.”

“See me like how?” Harry didn’t bother looking over his shoulder to address his godfather.

“With that guitar,” he clarified “whenever she was nervous about something, upset or just
lost in thought, she’d play that thing and be practically dead to the world,” Sirius
explained wistfully as the object of their discussion lay comatose before them.

Harry didn’t reply, he merely just continued playing the Spanish sounding tune
absentmindedly. It was Christmas yet again and, as expected, he was spending it with
his mother alone until Sirius arrived.

“Do you come here often?” Sirius asked softly while pulling up a chair beside his godson “I
notice the fresh flowers whenever I come visit, but I never see anyone here.”

“I have one of the house elves at Moony Nights replace them every week,” Harry
confessed quietly “I remember that she liked gardening.”

“She did,” Sirius agreed “almost hexed my bits off when I apparated into one of her rose
bushes once,” he chuckled nervously “she’s the nicest person you’d ever meet, until you
piss her off,” he winced at some memory “she was scary when angry. There was a
reason many referred to her as a Charms mistress.”

Harry snorted in amusement “Is that right?” he looked over to Sirius “It never occurred to
you to not piss her off then?”

Sirius grinned “Call me a slow learner,” the grin then turned into a frown “You really
should be spending today with your friends, there’s an awesome party at Moony Nights
that Cedric and Monty organized. I came here because Remus told me you’d definitely be
here . . .”

“Then you should go back,” Harry advised his godfather neutrally “I don’t intend on leaving
until the nurses force me to.”

Sirius sired wearily “Harry,” he pleaded “your mother wouldn’t want you wasting away in
here on one of the happiest days of the year, in fact, I’d imagine she’ll castrate Remus
when she finds out he didn’t try and put a stop to this.”

“Sirius, I spend one day, and one day only, a year with my mother, if you don’t want me
to castrate you, you’d best drop the issue and go home,” Harry looked at the clock on the
wall “I’ll be here for another three hours and forty seven minutes.”

Sirius sighed and dropped the issue, knowing full well that Harry could and would follow
through with his threat. Harry resumed the Latin tune as if Sirius weren’t in the room with
him while Sirius listened silently.
“You know MBMC’s sales are going through the roof,” Sirius chuckled “those contraceptive
potions are selling like crazy, I had to help make a whole new batch . . .”

“It was expected,” Harry answered dully “otherwise I wouldn’t have backed Archades in
the first place.”

“Monty tells me your vampire friend and you are undergoing a new business venture
together,” he chuckled “should we be worried?”

“It’s a night club in France,” Harry rolled his eyes “hardly anything nefarious. It was mostly
Lucile begging Lestat for something to do with her spare time, I’m just putting forward
half the money. I trust she knows what she’s doing in running the place.”

“When’s the grand opening?” Sirius asked “I haven’t had sex in over a decade, I think a
night out at a club is just what the doctor ordered. Those potions Monty’s been
cramming down my throat seem to have worked, if I do say so myself.”

It was true, Harry reasoned. Sirius looked more like the man he was when he was thrown
into Azkaban than the skeletal being he looked like not long ago.

“It’s a muggle club, mostly,” Harry informed the grinning man “not that magicals aren’t
welcome, just don’t do anything stupid. If you think my mother is scary when angry, you
don’t want to anger Lucile.”

“You can get me in?” Sirius asked with surprise “Usually clubs, especially muggle ones, are
very hard to get in for guys, especially guys without the company of females.”

“I’m part owner,” he told Sirius with a frown “of course I can get you in, don’t be stupid.”

“You’re stupid!”

“Clever,” Harry praised while rolling his eyes “Lucile already asked me to get the English
team to go for the grand opening, technically, I’m still too young, so I won’t be going.”

“As if you would anyway,” Sirius chortled “I can’t believe you sometimes, you could have
any girl you want, in groups, and yet you stay holed up in your room with your books,”
he sounded disgusted “James is probably rolling in his grave, though he wouldn’t let Lily
know, otherwise she’d kick his ass.”

Harry shook his head at his godfather’s antics “You wouldn’t be so bold in your words if
she were awake,” Harry motioned to his mother. Sirius felt a little guilty about talking
about his godson’s sex life (or lack thereof) with Lily right there, coma or not.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Sirius shrugged “you worry me sometimes, I’m starting to
believe some of the rumours about your sexuality.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief “If I prove to you hat those rumours are false, will you
leave me alone?”

Sirius looked like Christmas had come early – well, earlier than now but you get the idea.

“How do you intend to do that, oh godson of mine?”

“In my second year, I kissed Professor Vector,” he dropped the bombshell on the
disbelieving man “tongue and all, she was rather peeved, to be sure, but it was worth it. I
won’t have people thinking I’m gay,” Harry shuddered “some of the fan mail I get is bad
enough as it is, I don’t need to add to the weirdness.”

Sirius was wiping fake tears from his eyes “I’m so proud of you,” he faked choked sobs
“she used to go to school with us,” Sirius informed “a few years below us, but I
remember how sexy she was back then,” he then winced “I asked her out once, tried a bit
of the ‘Sirius Black charm’, I’m never doing that again,” he shuddered “she may be sexy,
but she gives off one of those vibes that if you even try looking at her the wrong way,
she’ll slice your balls off.”

Harry nodded “You’d be surprised how many people get that vibe,” he shook his head
“are you satisfied? Can I spend time with my mother in peace?” he asked dryly.

Sirius shrugged “Okay,” he grinned “but you have to come home sometime, and when you
do, I’ll have a whole group of girls ready to spend some quality time with you,” he
chuckled perversely.

“You do that,” Harry encouraged “Just be sure to sleep with one eye open – for the rest
of your life.”

Sirius left his godson to his own devices, having done as promised and tried to get him to
come home before he misses the bulk of the party. Remus had tried to reason with him
that being the boy’s godfather, and not having asked him to skip the Christmas visits
before, that he’d have more success at it.

Clearly, the werewolf was delusional. Perhaps if he pulled his tongue out of Tonks’ throat
for a second, he’d be able to think straight enough to realize how stupid it was to even
try. When that boy had his mind set on something, it was almost impossible to change his mind

Sirius left the hospital with the tune of Harry’s guitar in his ears.

“So Remus and Tonks are officially dating now?” Archie sat down on the chair beside
Harry and Luna in the Ravenclaw common room. He hadn’t been too surprised by the
news, especially with the way they were acting on Christmas, but it was good to hear
nonetheless. A good steady woman was the one thing Remus was missing in his life, in his
opinion.

“You already know the answer to that,” Harry said dryly “So, did you finish reading that
Transfiguration tome I gave you?”

Luna nodded “I did,” she spoke airily “I also learned every law and general rule by heart,
what’s next?” she sounded determined, which is why Harry would like doing what he was
about to do all the more.

“Good,” he nodded “now you can forget everything in that tome you learned.”

Seeing the shocked look on Luna’s face, Archie suddenly realized why it was a bad idea
for Harry to be your tutor.

“Well, I’m off to teach my minions,” Archie said dramatically “enjoy, Miss Lovegood!”

“What do you mean forget it?” Luna asked angrily, Harry was surprised because it was the
first time she really showed any sign of emotion other than playfulness or cheerfulness “I
spent so much time memorizing all those laws and theories in there! Do you have any
idea how much of my time that took?”

Harry nodded “I have an idea,” he answered “I read it when I was eight, and promptly
threw it out when I was done with it. Now, are you going to cry like a little girl, or are you
going to learn?”

“I am a little girl!” she countered.

“So is Archades, but you don’t see him crying,” he pointed out cleverly.

Luna tried to smother her grin; if nothing else, having Harry as a teacher always assured
that you’d get a laugh or two; he was rather funny sometimes, she had to admit. She
took a few calming breaths before speaking again, trying to reign in her temper “What
was the point of me reading that tome then?”

“To show you how stupid people are in general,” Harry shrugged “tell me one of the laws
of Transfiguration right now.”

Luna, caught by surprise that she was put on the spot, stuttered before answering with
the first rule that came to her head “It is impossible to transfigure an object into gold
unless its base composition is gold itself.”

Harry picked up an empty glass for Luna to see “This glass,” he began “I think its safe to
say that its makeup contains no gold, do you agree?”

She nodded, eyeing the glass curiously.

“Good, oops,” he faux exclaimed as he dropped the glass to the floor. Luna was ready to
use her magic to clean up the broken glass when Harry himself drew his wand and swished
it in the direction of the falling cup.

Luna watched with wide-eyed shock as the glass morphed into a plain, yet very much
golden goblet before her very eyes.

Harry levitated the goblet into her hands where it dropped and she caught with a grunt.
If she doubted the cup’s composition before, she didn’t now. It was heavy.

“You can take my word for it that that’s real gold,” he said dryly “for as long as the spell
lasts at least. Care to name another law? Never mind, I’ll do it for you.”

Not waiting for the girl to respond, Harry conjured a glass of water and poured it into the
goblet until it was full. With a more complicated set of wand movements, Luna watched,
mouth agape, as the liquid in the goblet turned thick, and red.

“Is that . . .?“

“Blood?” Harry finished for her “it most certainly is. According to that book, I just
performed two impossibilities, did I not?”

Luna nodded, too shocked to think of anything clever to say.

“The point of reading that tome is so you can know what other wizards think are
impossible feats,” he lectured “now that you know it’s anything but, you can forget
about what books or some professors would tell you. Transfiguration is all in he mind,” he
tapped his head for emphasis“ with enough focus, magical power and finesse, you can do
pretty much anything. I had you read that book so you can look at it now and realize how
stupid it really is.”

“But,” she sounded shocked still “Dumbledore wrote in that book, famous masters in the
field wrote in that book, how can they all be wrong?”

“You technically can’t be wrong if no one has tried to fail,” Harry shrugged “influential
transfiguration masters tell people that its impossible, who are they to try otherwise?”

Luna was still trying to wrap her mind around what she’d seen, something that Harry had
done so casually had completely destroyed any faith she once had in the books she
cherished and the knowledge they contained.

The door to the common room opened up with a crash as Roger Davis barged in while
panting heavily “Dementors broke into the Gryffindor common room!”

With that announcement, he turned on his heel and headed back to most likely the scene
of the crime.

Seeing nearly the entire room empty out, Harry shrugged and figured he’d see what was
going on. Perhaps they found a lead to the real betrayer of his parents in the house of
their origin? Dementors are rather vigilant in hunting down their prey, especially when
they were promised a soul in return for their efforts.

“What happened here?” Harry asked Archie curiously, the boy was looking over the crowd
of students in front of him that were blocking their path. The Minister and Dumbledore
were both arguing again, the former looking rather flustered as they did. Looking over
the crowd, Harry saw the portrait of the fat lady blown clear off the wall and the
entrance to the Gryffindor common room in clear view.

“Two Dementors burst into the Gryffindor common room with brute force,” Archie began
to explain what he had learned so far “the Minister says they found a lead on Pettigrew,
but all they did is knock out Weasley number six.”

Harry scrunched his face in thought, he asked “Ronald?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Archie said, “The boy wonder over there wasn’t too happy about
it either, apparently he was in the room when the Dementors stormed in,” Harry didn’t
miss Archie’s eyes narrow angrily with the mention of the hellish creatures.

“Well, this is all rather boring,” Harry said dryly “what happened to the Dementors?”

“That’s the thing, Fudge just sent them back outside to patrol the grounds, apparently
their actual target managed to escape.”

Now that was interesting “Did you happen to discover exactly who their target was?”

Archie snorted “Yeah, a rat,” he missed the look of surprise on Harry’s face “Longbottom
was telling everyone who would listen that the Dementors chased Ron’s pet rat around
the place. They say that it jumped out the window and got away before they could catch
it though,” Archie snorted in amusement “The Dementors weren’t too happy about that.”

“You said it was Ronald’s pet?” Harry asked Archie, the boy was looking at his friend
strangely; more strangely than usual, that is.

The second he nodded in the affirmative, Harry pushed passed the students crowded
around the scene and made his way towards Hogwarts’ notorious prankster twins.

“Frederick, George, how long has Ronald’s pet rat been in the family for?” Harry asked
urgently, surprising the twins and those who were in hearing range.

“Scabbers?” George asked with a frown “I’d say about twelve years or so, that’s when
Percy got him I think, you’d have to ask him. Why do you care Potter?” he asked with curiosity.

“Twelve years?” he asked suspiciously “are you absolutely certain?”

“Well, no,” he admitted sheepishly “but I do know that it’s been around ever since I can
remember, rather strange now that you think about it.”

“What do you mean ‘strange’?” his brother asked him curiously.

“What he means Frederick is that twelve years is a curiously long lifespan for your
common sewer rat – Headmaster!” Harry called over the crowd, surprising the aged old
man who recognized his celebrity student’s voice instantly.

“How did he know you were Fred?” George asked his shocked twin, who just gaped
stupidly at the spot Harry had just been standing at.

“I’d say lucky guess, brother of mine, but I’m not entirely sure I’d be correct in that assumption.”

“Yeah, I have to agree mate,” George exclaimed, slugging his brother in the arm and
snapping him out of his daze.

“Wait, did he just call me Frederick?!”

Harry made his way over to the where the Minister and the Headmaster were in their
heated discussion, completely ignoring the pudgy, red-faced man who was glaring at him angril

“What is it Mister Potter? As you can see, I’m rather busy at the moment,” he motioned to
the Minister with his eyes twinkling merrily.

“You seem to be forgetting an important bit of information about Wormtail,” Harry said
dryly, almost letting out a snort of amusement when Fudge just looked on in helpless confusion

“What’s the boy talking about Dumbledore? What does that have to do with anything?
Who the devil is this ‘Wormtail’?!” Fudge asked angrily, not appreciating being out of the loop.

“Scabbers has been in the Weasley family for over a decade,” Dumbledore said, his eyes
widening as the ever present twinkle in his eyes faded away. Dumbledore quickly locked
eyes with Harry and flicked them over to the Minister and his Senior Undersecretary
desperately, hoping Harry would get the message.

“Cornelius,” Harry addressed the minister, both he and his Senior Undersecretary bristled
at the disrespect “Wormtail is the nickname of our resident poltergeist, he derives
pleasure from terrorizing the students, this was probably his doing. Nothing more.”

Harry pat him on the shoulder condescendingly while Fudge bashed his hand away
angrily, not willing to put up with the whelp’s actions any longer than necessary.

“Delores,” Harry greeted with false enthusiasm “passed any racist laws recently?” he pat
her on the head also as she yelped in pain and grabbed her head.

“What the devil was that you hooligan? You’re going to pull my hair out!” she turned to the
Minister “Minister, do something, he’s disrespecting us!”

Fudge turned to his senior undersecretary while Harry placed his hands in his coat
pockets and watched happily “Let it go Madam Umbridge,” he turned to Dumbledore “the
Dementors are staying here and that is final, I have them scouring around all over Britain
and beyond, I will not leave our only school unprotected when a madman is on the loose!”

With a huff and a wave at the students as he passed them by, Fudge, followed by
Umbridge, made their way out of the school, leaving a group of whispering children behind.

“Mister Potter, if you’d please follow me to my office where we may discuss the events of
this evening. Minerva,” he addressed the stern Transfiguration professor “please see to it
that the students return to their common rooms, I daresay it is past curfew already.”

With a nod, she did as asked while Dumbledore motioned for Harry to follow him up to his
office. They passed the stone gargoyle guarding the stairs up to his personal tower with
a whispered password so he would let them pass. Once they ascended the spiralling
stairs, Dumbledore motioned for Harry to take a seat in his familiar looking office. The odd
trinkets and clutter were still about, however, this time, there was a rather magnificent
Phoenix perched on a golden stand by his desk.

Dumbledore stroked his feathers tenderly and whispered a few choice words to it as it
eyed Harry shrewdly.

“You are one of a few who have had the pleasure to actually see Fawkes,” the
headmaster motioned to the fiery bird “he usually prefers to frolic in the Forbidden Forest
if he is not needed.”

“That’s,” Harry paused, wanting to find the right words “enlightening. What do you intend
to do about Pettigrew, it’s obvious he’s been hiding out with the Weasleys since that
night over a decade ago.”

“Yes,” he agreed “I must apologise for not realizing such an important fact sooner, had I
been in the right state of mind, I, too, would have questioned young Ronald’s pet rat,”
he sighed “unfortunately, the presence of the Dementors has served to provide me with
a constant source of headache and worry. I cannot sit idly by and run the risk of having
one of my students being permanently injured by Dementors that are, what’s that
muggle phrase?” He looked at Harry over his half-moon spectacles “Trigger-happy?”

“Sure,” Harry nodded at the use of phrase “What are we going to do about Pettigrew
though? I may have stopped our idiot minister from bringing more Dementors from
Azkaban, but you must admit they are rather effective at tracking down their target.”

“Indeed,” the headmaster popped a yellow candy in his mouth and began to stroke
Fawkes’ plumage, the man looked to be in deep thought.
“Mister Pettigrew must be aware of how the wards at Hogwarts function,” he reasoned
“for if he transformed into his human form while on school grounds, the wards would
alert me immediately of a foreign presence and he would be discovered, and apprehended.”

“So if he transforms, he does so outside the wards,” Harry reasoned “Hogsmeade and
the Forbidden Forest are the most likely options, I doubt though that you could add
Animagus detection wards to the entirety of the forest . . .”

“Indeed,” the twinkle was back in the headmaster’s eyes “I am quite capable of warding
Hogsmeade for those purposes exactly with the town’s mayor’s approval, but we seem to
be at an impasse on how we can monitor the Forest,” he sighed “it is times like this I wish
I was able to communicate with one of the native creatures of the forest . . .”

“To do such a thing would be against school rules headmaster,” Harry said innocently “The
forest is forbidden, after all, you couldn’t possibly, in good will, ask me to do such a
thing when my very life could be at risk . . .”

The merry twinkle in the headmaster’s eyes only increased “That rule is more of a
deterrent than anything else,” he reasoned “it stops the less talented students with
overly large imaginations or an urge to collect rare and dangerous potions ingredients
from doing so and getting killed in the process.”

Harry frowned and looked at the headmaster levelly for a few moments before speaking
again “That’s how you knew I was a cat Animagus,” Harry leaned back in his chair “you
were there when Archades was attacked by the Vorpala, but didn’t assist because you
assessed I had the situation under control.”

The headmaster didn’t respond to his unasked question directly “Archades would have
died without your help, or my own,” he stroked Fawkes again “I am made aware of any
student who trespasses into the forest and have an eye on them as soon as they do.
Should they be in any danger, I am informed and I go to assist.”

Harry eyed the Phoenix, who was still peering at him with its beady eyes, and raised a
brow in its direction.

“Clever little chicken, aren’t you?”

Dumbledore began to crawl under his desk while giving Harry one last piece of advice as
Fawkes squawked indignantly “I would run if I were you,” he said “Fawkes doesn’t much
appreciate being called a chicken.”

In a flash of fire, Fawkes was upon him and thwacking him on the head with its powerful
and long tail feathers. Harry was aware how powerful Phoenixes were, and knew that if it
really intended to cause him harm, it could do much more. It was just playing with him.

Quickly wrapping the long feathers around his forearm, he pulled the bird close to his
mouth and began speaking softly to it.

“I can feel you reading my thoughts, that isn’t very polite,” the bird didn’t put up a fight or
try to get away, which Harry took for a sign that it wanted to hear what he had to say,
“you also must know of what I need from you. I don’t care if you like me or not, but I will
get those tears one way or another, I would prefer it if you did so willingly.”
Fawkes gave him a long hard stare as it perched itself on his shoulder while Harry met its
gaze unflinchingly. Dumbledore got up form under his desk to observe the strange
spectacle with a raised brow.

“Well, that was interesting,” Dumbledore said pleasantly “the last time Severus called
Fawkes that evil word, he burnt off all of his hair, and I don’t just mean the hair on his head.”

Fawkes looked at Harry smugly while the boy merely raised a brow. How did he get
through the clothes?

“As you can imagine, I have places to go, snakes to speak with. I’ll leave you with your
deranged chicken headmaster.”

Harry quickly closed the door behind him just as a green ball of flame impacted on the
place where his head just was.

“He’s an interesting one, isn’t he Fawkes?” the headmaster was back to stroking the
legendary bird’s plumage “I wonder what he needs those tears for? Nothing nefarious I hope?”

His familiar remained tight-lipped, not even meeting his gaze when he asked. Albus was
certain, though, that his friend wouldn’t offer something as valuable as his tears unless
there was a true cause for it.

That was his second true meeting with the boy, the last one having been a couple of
years ago with the Mirror of Erised incident. The boy is truly one of the most remarkable
and determined young individuals he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Perhaps they
could have a chat one day when the circumstances weren’t as dire – yes, he’d like that.

“Hey, what was all that about earlier?” Archie asked his friend, having been left clueless
when Harry ditched him earlier.

“The rat being chased earlier was Pettigrew,” he answered dryly while changing out of his
clothes to get ready for bed.

“Oh, is that all?” Archie asked dryly “I thought it was something important!”

“Shut-up for a second,” Harry said calmly while pulling out two pieces of hair from a
handkerchief in his coat pocket “these here are hairs from Cornelius Fudge and Delores
Umbridge, do you think you could make a timed, and DNA reactive Polyjuice potion out of them

Archie looked interested at the prospect of making a complicated potion “How do you want
it to work?”

Harry grinned “Say, if the person who ingests the potion,” he motioned to Umbridge’s hair
in his left hand “comes into contact with someone with the same DNA as this person “he
motioned to Fudge’s hair “the potion would then activate and hilarity would ensue.”

“By DNA, do you mean in the form of saliva?” Archie asked with a grin, catching onto his
friend’s thought process.

“Indeed,” Harry’s grinned as Archie snatched the hairs from his hand and placed them in
separate, labelled, vials.
“Are we going for maximum public exposure with this one?” Archie asked as he began to
jot down some quick notes.

“Of course,” Harry answered “we’ll have someone slip the potion into Cornelius’ wife’s
drink before they meet up, Nymphadora can do it while she’s at work.”

“She can also hang around for a bit to take a picture, I’d imagine,” Archie grinned “you
may not know this, but she was almost as hysterical as Remus when you went inside, you
should have seen her,” he sighed “I believe she threatened to AK the minister several
times before Remus calmed her down.”

“Huh,” Harry frowned thoughtfully “you learn something new everyday.”

Winter quickly turned into Spring at Hogwarts and the fifth years were starting to feel
the pressure of their OWL examinations that were soon approaching. Harry, however,
had other issues to attend to, such as training for the final of the Quidditch World Cup.

Their last three games in the final series had been against Germany, America, and most
difficult of all, Ireland. The first two matches were still difficult compared to the games
they played in the group phase, but nothing compared to the match they played against
Ireland. It was the first time Harry hadn’t been the dominant player on the field with
Ireland’s famous chaser trio; Troy, Mullet and Moran.

In the end, even though Harry was still the highest scorer on the field, the Irish chasers
ended up outscoring them; their teamwork was truly a remarkable sight to behold.
Redbridge was obviously not pleased with that and had them training even harder for the
final he assured the players was theirs in a few months time.

Aside from Quidditch training, Harry spent the majority of his time in the Room of
Requirement, pushing himself and the room to its limits and beyond. It was now a common
sight for Harry’s dorm mates to see him return to the common room late at night covered
in sweat and dead tired – they all wrongfully assumed that it was because of Quidditch;
not that he was complaining.

Teaching Luna was an interesting experience for him. The girl was weird and spacey for
the majority of their time together, but when he was telling her something important, she
would listen with rapt attention he wasn’t aware she was capable of. He would
completely shatter her view on certain aspects of magic, and other than a few moments
of gaping stupidly at him, she would readily accept it and factor it into her own learning,
Harry could respect that. What better way to learn things than by experience?

Not that he made any time to go and watch, but the rumour mill around the school was
more than enough to inform him that Cedric’s new Firebolt was working wonders for him.
Without his old ad crappy broom slowing him down, Archie had informed him on more
than enough occasions that Cedric could go pro if that was what he really wanted.

The students, at least, thought he was good enough to play on the international level,
according to what they’d seen. Harry mused that it was a good thing they were students
and had no say in what happened in the real world, because it was clearly obvious that
school Quidditch and International level Quidditch were almost completely different games.

The club Lestat and he were both funding, according to Lucile, would be ready for its
grand opening on the eve of whenever the World Cup finished. Harry had to admit, that
when it came to running, organizing and coming up with ideas for a club, Lucile seemed
to know what she was doing. He hadn’t been told much other than its name (Three sixty)
and that the entire building is to be circular, including the interior, but the vampire had
assured him that with the world class DJ line-up they already had hired and the
star-studded guest list, it would be nothing but a hit. Lucile had told him, in no uncertain
terms, that if he wanted to find out more about the club itself, he would have to come and
find out himself.

On a more serious note, the snake he had conjured and ordered to the Forbidden Forest
to search for Pettigrew (with the help of the forest’s slithery inhabitants) had yet to come
up with anything concrete. There had been a few rats, but none of them were Pettigrew
so far, and he seriously doubted the rat was stupid enough to risk the dangers of the
forest in order to escape.

With that, Harry also assumed that Dumbledore had little luck with finding the traitorous
rat in Hogsmeade either, assuming he’d even be told if he had. The man was able to hide
his presence entirely for over a decade though, Harry doubted he’d slip up so easily now
that the entire ministry was looking for him, one could hope though.

Harry was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he was forced to quickly leap to the
side to dodge the flamethrower charm his ‘clone’ sent in his direction. Twirling his wand in
circles several times in quick succession, the tip of his wand facing the ceiling, he conjured
a gust of wind that quickly formed into tornado that he sent into the flame’s path.

The mini-tornado tore towards the flame and enveloped it in its dangerously violent
current, creating a ten-foot tall whirling inferno of death that headed straight for his clone.

Harry rolled forwards so that he could dodge four basketball size fireballs being shot at
him from his right. That sneaky bugger!

“I thought it was generally assumed that apparation wasn’t accepted?” he smirked at his
‘clone’ who returned his look with dead eyes. Harry honestly didn’t think it was possible,
but he guessed that as long as he remained within the room when he apparated, it didn’t
disobey the anti-apparation wards placed within Hogwarts. He needed to remember to
thank Lucile later for the apparation lessons; they definitely were useful in a duel
situation, especially when you can manage it silently.

Harry duelled with his clone, going full out, for another ten minutes non-stop until he called
it quits. It wouldn’t do if he passed out from a lack of energy within the room, surely his
dorm mates would find that slightly suspicious.

Harry began the long and tiresome trek back to his common room, intent on having a nice
long shower before having an early night’s rest. He only had to pass five large windows
however when those plans were completely ruined.

A pack of thirty Dementors floating over towards the forbidden forest isn’t something one
could easily miss, after all.

Harry briefly wondered what they could possibly find so fascinating in the dark forest,
surely if the rat had surfaced, his snakes would have noticed him first . . .

‘Unless,’ Harry mused ‘Pettigrew avoided the snakes at all costs, or disposed of them,
knowing I could communicate with them,’ it wasn’t completely farfetched and out of the
realm of possibility, it was commonly known that he was a Parseltongue after all, one
would only have to put two and two together to reach that conclusion. Pettigrew was
either smarter than he gave the rat credit for, or he was well informed.

Ronald did have a notoriously big mouth, perhaps he gleaned said information from the
overly loud and idiotic Gryffindor, that too, was a viable possibility.

‘Wait a minute,’ Harry frowned as a thought popped into his head ‘didn’t Archades say he
would be going into the forest tonight to get more ingredients?’

As if Murphy himself was fucking with his life from the grave, a brilliant white light flashed
from within the forest, the light travelling well beyond the tree tops and out into the
night. Harry didn’t need to be told what was happening, it was pretty fucking obvious.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he cursed into the mostly empty corridor. This shit wasn’t even
funny anymore; the kid was a human magnet when it came to attracting trouble!

“What’s his problem?” Neville Longbottom asked Hermione Granger, as the two headed
towards the Gryffindor common room after successfully rescuing Hagrid’s pet Hippogriff
from a brutal execution.

“Isn’t it obvious Neville?” she shook her head in exasperation “the OWL examinations can
be very frustrating, that is why you must start studying now before it’s too late!”

“Right,” he looked to his bookish friend dubiously. As if he’d ever do that, he had more
important things to worry about, like getting himself a Firebolt so he wouldn’t lose to
Hufflepuff again so easily. As if he needed to learn at a school of magic!

Why does this shit keep happening to me?

A valid question if you were one Archades Montague. Getting ambushed by a Vorpala,
being forced to fight a Basilisk, and now a small horde of Dementors out for his soul. If he
made it out of this alive, he vowed to never come in this god forsaken forest again just
to save a couple of galleons, it’s not like business wasn’t booming anyway.

More painful shrieks filled the air as Archie fended off the Dementors using his imperfect
Patronus charm. He hoped that someone would see the brilliant white light and come to his
aid, it’s not like it wasn’t practically bathing the entire area in brightness.

Archie sent his wand from left to right, causing the large, silvery werewolf to charge in
the same direction and fend off the Dementors trying to flank him; it was no use
however, Archie knew he couldn’t hold the spell for much longer. The spell was quite the
draining one; Archie didn’t know how Harry could conjure one so easily. It took him two
times to get the werewolf to appear at all in the presence of these hellish beings.

Clumsily, he dropped to one knee and used his free hand to support his wand arm. He
could feel the pitiful reserves he had left running out and leaving him. He was a goner, his
soul about to be sucked by the Dementors.

Never would he live to invent the cure for lycanthropy, as he had promised his deceased
mother he would.

Never would he live to see if Harry actually succeeded in rescuing his mother.
Never would he get to see beloved Stephanie again . . .

‘Oh my fucking god!’ Archie thought desperately ‘I’m going to die a virgin!’

Just as the most severe of realizations had dawned on him, Archie found his vision
flooded by a familiar pair of pointed dragon hide shoes. There was only one person who
wore shoes like that at Hogwarts! The thought brought an odd sense of relief to his heart.

“You’re so useless,” Harry sighed, his back turned to Archie as he used his body to shield
his friend from the Dementors “at least you were able to conjure a semi-corporeal Patronus
in this situation; if I don’t kill you myself for making me run all the way out here again to
save your ass, I might just give you a cookie.”

Archie let out a weak bark of laughter. It felt oddly reassuring to be insulted by his best
friend again. His little moment had made it abundantly clear to him that he’d actually come
to enjoy the banter with the spectacled Quidditch star, not that he’d ever tell him that.

“Fuck you douchebag,” Archie insulted his friend with a tired slur “be a good little minion
and get me out of this situation, will you?”

“Go to sleep you idiot,” Harry shook his head while never taking his eyes off the furious
Dementors who were now circling him wildly “we’ll discuss who’s the minion later.”

Without further ado, Archie passed out on the dirt floor of the Forbidden Forest, safely
behind the one person he trusted with his life. As he passed out, his Patronus also
disappeared in a wisp of silvery smoke, removing the last thing stoping the Dementors
from swarming Harry.

“You know,” Harry began loudly, speaking up over the Dementors angry screeching so
that he could be heard. He knew the Dementors couldn’t speak his language, but the could
definitely understand it if they could take orders from the Ministry “I’ve been thinking for a
while how I could pay you dumb bastards back for the trouble you caused me back in
Azkaban, and I think I found the perfect solution,” his wand hand was moving in an
extremely intricate set of movements as he prepared to cast his spell “I know I can’t kill
you bastards, you’re already dead,” Harry could almost feel the smugness oozing from
the Dementors after hearing that comment “nobody said anything about you being
immune to pain though, and I promise, pain is what you’ll feel, let me know how it feel to
burn to death without being able to die – Fiendfyre!”

The Dementors were so close to him that even if they wanted to avoid his spell, there
was no way they could. From the tip of Harry’s wand leapt a large panther the size of a
small house that ripped into the first Dementor to cross its path savagely with its huge claws.

What followed next was something akin to a slaughter, without the killing.

Wraiths, like the Dementors, are indeed immortal in the sense that they cannot be killed
by any physical means. Just because they couldn’t die didn’t mean they couldn’t feel pain
though – and burning is one painful thing to experience. The unfortunate thing about
burning Dementors though is that it’s usually impossible with the aura of cold they
passively exude to anyone within their immediate radius; you try and conjure a fire in
freezing temperatures, its not an easy feat.

It was too bad, for the Dementors that is, that Harry could conjure a fire so hot that it
made their aura of cold like a common breeze. The Fiendfyre spell was similar to the
Patronus spell in that it conjures a corporeal, and sentient, entity out of some form of
energy (in this case, fire) to fight its foes. The dangerous thing about the spell though is
that it is notoriously difficult to control. If an inexperienced wizard or witch tried to cast it
and lost control of their own spell, they are more likely to get killed by their own creation.
Luckily for Harry, he knew what he was doing.

Harry held his wand in both hands while sweating form the immense heat his spell created
in the surrounding area. The night air was filled with the sounds of shrieking Dementors
as they were burnt to a crisp; they were still very much alive, but in a lot of pain too.

“You couldn’t just do your job,” Harry yelled to the shrieking creatures that even as they
were burning, tried to get to him “all you had to do was find a fucking rat, but you
couldn’t help yourselves, you had to attack innocents, innocents who, unfortunately for
you, mean something to me,” Harry quickly cast a worried glance to his friend, hoping he
didn’t hear that. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw he was unconscious “I know
hellish creatures like you should be accustomed to the fire, so really, I’m just doing you all
a favour.”

Several of the Dementors were able to escape with minor burns, but they escaped and
fled as quickly as possible. The unlucky ones had the misfortune of being mauled by a
giant panther of fire that batted at them with its paws, tail and head while scratching and
biting them with its claws and teeth. It was a brutal punishment, but Harry couldn’t bring
himself to care.

Finally, after ten minutes of controlling his spell and making sure it didn’t grow to an
unmanageable size, Harry released it, allowing the Dementors to flee less his own
creature turn on him should he lose control.

The clearing, once filled with painful shrieks, was now devoid of almost any sound. It
made sense considering most of the local wildlife and inhabitants of the forest probably
fled a long time ago as the Dementors passed through. Pocketing his wand, Harry hefted
his friend over his shoulder and began the long trek back to the castle, thoughts of
revenge being served dominating his mind.

Had Harry been in his Animagus form, he just may have spotted the small and ugly rat
scurrying through the, now, empty forest and to safety; its plan to escape having
worked perfectly.

If Harry was surprised to see a groggy looking Archie coming down to breakfast the next
morning, he didn’t show it. As far as he knew, the only people who know of what
exactly happened to the Dementors last night were himself and the creatures he had
attacked, and he would prefer it if it stayed that way. No need for everyone to know he
can cast, and control, the Fiendfyre spell, it would just cause undue headaches.

The boy plopped down in the seat opposite him and looked about ready to say something
to him until Harry tossed him today’s issue of the Daily Prophet. Archie unfolded it to the
front page and read:

Ministry Scandal of the highest level!

As you can see in the picture to the right, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, the Minister of Magic,
was spotted getting rather comfortable with his senior undersecretary during lunch break
yesterday afternoon.
The Incident, denied by all levels of the Ministry to be anything but, has sparked outrage
from the community. If we can’t have a minister who is faithful to us, how can we be
certain that he will be faithful to the country he leads?

The Minister or Madam Undersecretary Delores Umbridge (the woman in the picture) were
both unavailable for questioning, but several anonymous readers definitely wished to have
their opinion heard on the issue.

“It’s disgusting!” one zealous reader raged “our Minister is clearly some sleazy politician
that uses his power to get into the panties of the women working under him. This is just the
first time he’s been caught, how do we know this woman is the only one?”

We at the Prophet must agree, how to we know this is the only woman the Minister is
seeing ‘on the side’? How can we ever trust our Minister again when he can’t even be
trusted to honour his own marriage?

Beside the article was a large picture of Umbridge giving Fudge a delicate kiss. Archie
immediately burst into a fit of laughter, last’s night happenings seemingly pushed from his
mind, but most likely never forgotten.

“That was awesome,” Archie grinned broadly “I’d love to shake the hand of the man who
is responsible for this.”

“What do you mean Archades?” Harry asked innocently “you want to shake the Minister’s
hand for cheating on his wife? How shameful of you.”

Archie only response to Harry’s words was an amused snort as he looked at a slip of
paper he pulled out of his pocket.

“We have our Potions OWL today,” he grinned “I just want to get these stupid tests over
with so we can go home, this year’s been so boring,” the boy sighed “hopefully NEWTs
will be more of a challenge.”

“I doubt it,” Harry shrugged nonchalantly “I’m more concerned about the final coming up,
to be honest. These tests just show how pathetic the system is in testing the future
rulers of their society – you want some jam?”

Archie laughed at his friend, accepting the small jar of toast spreading. Harry said some
weird things sometimes . . .

“What the hell was that?” Archie complained as he and Harry exited their last OWL
examination for the rest of their lives “I’m no genius at Transfiguration, but even I could
tell that was bloody easy.”

Harry didn’t answer, the whole OWL examinations were a joke form the beginning,
complaining however, would just be pointless.

“I mean, I don’t know how people find those things hard, it just doesn’t make sense,”
Archie sighed irritably “you could literally just do the assigned work the professors give
you and pass the OWLs with flying colours if you retain the information taught well
enough,” he sighed “it’s like they don’t encourage independent study or advanced students
at all, everyone in my study group could easily ace all those exams.”
“It’s why so many countries don’t use the OWL system anymore,” Harry shrugged “if
they’re content with producing house wives and politicians, they don’t need to expand the
curriculum, it’s just fine as is.”

“It’s a god thing masteries are an international test,” Archie sighed “they should be the
real test, but we can’t take them until we take our NEWTs.”

“And we can’t get our passports until we have our NEWTs either,” Harry supplied helpfully.

“Wait,” Archie paused “you have a passport, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to travel and
play for England!”

“It’s a temporary one that only allows me to travel with the team, it doesn’t count,”
Harry shrugged “don’t you think I would have already gone to Greece to get that Gorgon
if I could?”

“True, hey, isn’t that Stephanie’s owl?”

Harry saw the snowy owl approaching them and recognized it immediately as Stephanie’s
owl too. He had sent her a letter, at the insistence of Archie, to ask if she wanted tickets
to the World Cup final. He doubted she would, but Archie just wouldn’t shut up about it
until he sent the damn letter.

Harry took a seat on the bottom step of the stairs right by them and took out his
notebook, waiting for Archie to read the letter; he wouldn’t be going anywhere until he
was done anyway.

Several minutes passed and Archie still hadn’t spoken. His back was to him and he seemed
to be clutching the letter rather tightly, could he that exited to be seeing her again
finally? Did she accept? They were going to be late for the Hogwarts express if he didn’t
hurry up.

“Will you hurry up Archades?” Harry sighed irritably “the train’s leaving in half an hour,
we’re going to miss it.”

Archie turned around a bit too quickly for his liking; something was wrong, that much was
obvious.

“Well. Stephanie asked for four tickets, is that okay?” even Harry could tell the smile
plastered on his face was a ridiculously fake one.

“There’s enough room,” Harry nodded “is there a problem? I didn’t expect so many
though, to be honest, I actually thought she’d say no.”

“Oh, you know her room mate Fleur? Well, apparently she has a little sister who is a die
hard Harry Potter, err, Quidditch fan, and she really wants to go,” he joked feebly “so
them two will be coming, as well as . . .”

Harry raised a brow as Archie trailed off, looking at the letter as if it were the obituaries.

“It’s okay if you can’t read the letter Archades, just sound out the syllables, it shouldn’t
be too hard . . .”
“She’s bringing her boyfriend, Harry,” Archie said in a quiet voice “it says she wants a
ticket for her boyfriend, Fleur and her little sister.”

“Huh,” Harry mused quietly, thinking more on the issue then he would ever let Archie know
“well, sucks to be you,” he shrugged “four tickets it is.”

Archie’s complete silence and lack of theatrics as he followed him to the train were more
disconcerting than any annoying performance he could ever have put on.
Chapter: 22
Chapter 23: Flambert

Harry stood calmly, his right arm extended to his side holding a simple looking blade with a
lazy yet controlled grip. His opponent stood several feet away from him, a large and
vicious looking two handed sword held easily over her shoulder with a single hand and a
predatory grin on her face, as if it weighed nothing at all. Harry knew better.

“You’ve never lasted this long against me Harry,” she sounded both excited, proud, and,
dare he say it, a little horny “but do you have what it takes to beat me?” she purred the
question while readying her blade.

“I have my last training session before the final in thirty minutes,” he informed his
sparring partner dryly “you think we can speed this up a little bit?”

“Cheeky,” she switched the huge blade in her hand so it was in a reversed grip and
pointed out behind her “am I going to have to discipline you again? Perhaps,” her grin
increased “a spanking?”

“Or is it that you’re stalling for time because you know I have you beat?” Harry fired back
“and are otherwise incapable of beating me without this little breather.”

Lucile raised an amused eyebrow as she tensed in her stance “You forget one thing
Harry,” she advanced on him slowly with calculated steps “you have yet to beat me,” and
with that, she charged at him and swiped her massive blade at his face, which Harry
promptly ducked under, before swinging her massive blade around mid-air and bringing it
directly down on the spot Harry was standing on.

Sidestepping the powerful vertical swipe, idly noticing how it created several large cracks
in the marble floor when it made contact, Harry moved with the precision and grace he
was famous for and thrust his blade right at Lucile’s chest.

Harry pivoted on his left foot and spun in that direction to dodge the jab sent by Lucile to
his face, forcing himself to reveal his back to her for a split second. It may have only been
a jab form her, but that jab would have sent him back several feet had it made contact.

As he finished his spin, Harry swung his blade in a backhanded fashion towards Lucile’s
face; the sharp edge promising to cleave her head in two from the nose had it
connected. The unbelievably powerful woman ducked low and rose quickly to perform an
uppercut with her left hand, one that most likely would have separated his head from his
body if he weren’t prepared.

Harry dropped low and performed a sweep kick, hoping to catch her as she was in
motion, but he was quickly forced to hop into the air to avoid the woman’s huge blade.
Lucile, after completing the motions for her uppercut, used the inertia her body had
created to swing her heavy blade along the outside of her body and bring it back down
towards Harry’s ankles.

As she was recovering from the unbelievably quick and powerful manoeuvre, Harry
lunged at her with three vicious and quick attacks. The first a rapid swipe from left to right
at her chest, the second a mirror of the first swipe and thirdly, accompanied by a forward
lunge, a piercing thrust. Lucile had to use the bottom edge of her blade to parry away the
three quick, and surprising, strikes.

Before she could regain her footing, Harry lunged forwards again, but instead of striking
with his blade, he used his right foot to kick out Lucile’s feet from underneath her with a
kick so powerful it caused her to spin away from him and land on the floor with a sickening
crack, face up; the weight of her blade did her no favours in cushioning her fall.

Not willing to give the talented woman an inch so she could get on the advantage again,
Harry spun around again but this time, used his spinning motion to add power to the
downward lunge of his blade, one that was aimed at the downed woman’s face and went
right pastit, cutting her left cheek.

“So,” she sounded out of breath “you finally win,” she was licking her elongated fangs
while grinning widely, something Harry had picked up on that meant Lestat would be in for
a long sleepless night, again.

“So I did,” he grinned as he helped her up. He returned his blade to the table containing
several other unremarkable weapons not even coming close to the quality of the
Behemoth Lucile wielded.

“When did you incorporate kicking into your fighting style?” she grinned “it’s . . . effective.”

“Somewhere between when I realized I didn’t like getting my ass handed to me and
before we started sparring,” he grinned “It flows nicely, I think.”

“Aww,” Lucile wiped a fake tear from her eye “little Harry is growing up; why, I
remember when you first came here and tried sparring against me with that silly fencing style.”

Harry winced and rubbed the back of his head in phantom pain while eyeing Lucile’s
massive and evil looking sword warily. The eye on the hilt swivelled around and looked
right at him with unmistakable rapture – it wanted another round . . .

Harry had never read, or even heard about a sentient sword until Lucile had showed him
the monster she wielded. He remembered once trying, foolishly, to parry the massive
blade; he had broken his arm in three places for the effort. Lucile had also told him that it
had a special power that she never used unless she was fighting the worst of enemies,
and it was this power that strengthened the blade.

She was oddly tight lipped about it though, and Harry wasn’t willing to know anything
about what could cause Lucile to act so mature – unless she wanted to tell him, of course.

“I’ve been alive for a long time Harry,” she began to speak again, catching his attention
“and for as long as I remember, I’ve been what you could call a ‘blade connoisseur’. You
can name any blade you’ve ever heard of, myth or not, and odds are I’d have it.”

She swished her hands and something suddenly appeared in her hands, but before Harry
could see exactly what it was, she put it behind her back and slowly began to approach him.

“You know that I can’t have kids,” she spoke, and Harry was surprised to see she was
becoming emotional “but I’ve always dreamed what it would be like to have one, to share
time with them like we do and teach them the ways of the sword while Lestat could
teach them magic. You really don’t need much help with the latter,” she grinned saucily at
him “but it’s been a pleasure to help you with the former, honest.”

From behind her back, she pulled out what she was hiding to reveal one of the most
beautiful blades Harry had ever seen. It was simple, yet elegant and powerful, perfectly
synonymous to his fighting style. The blade resembled an inch thick and perfectly straight
sabre with razor sharp edges and a wicked looking point. The hilt was also covered with
an emerald and silver looking hand guard and the pommel had a golf ball sized emerald
attached to it.

Lucile held it before him with both hands as the sword lay gently in her grasp “This
blade,” she motioned it to him and Harry cautiously took it from her grasp “is called the
Flambert. I stole it from some French family back in the seventeen hundreds, but I’ve
never used it. Small blades have never been my style.”

Harry gave the blade a few experimental thrusts and slices, admiring it for its perfect
balance and weight. Unlike the plain blade Harry would use to spar with Lucile normally,
the one that felt wrong and weird in his hands; this one felt right, like it belonged in his
hand and as if it were an extension to his arm.

“It’s a nice blade,” Harry admired it before grabbing it just below the hilt and holding it out
to Lucile so she could take it back.

“Why are you giving it back to me?” she grinned “I have no use for it, and you’ve proved
that you’ll be the perfect owner for it – it’s yours.”

Before Harry could even comprehend the severity of what just happened, a blue light
shone from the emerald imbedded on the blade and flew directly into Harry. It was a
similar feeling as to when he first held his wand, but, slightly different at the same time.

“That blade,” Lucile began, watching as Harry admired it with reverence proudly “is one of
the finest made blades I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something, especially since I have
literally over two hundred swords in my collection, including the legendary Excalibur,” she
chuckled at Harry’s shock “the blade is made entirely of Mithril while the hilt and guard
are made of Orichalcum and melted emeralds to balance out the weight of the blade
perfectly – truly, a work of art.”

“You can melt emeralds?” Harry asked the vampire with a raised brow, he didn’t know that . . .

“They’re Dwarves Harry,” she chided him “arguably the best weapon smiths in existence,
there’s not much they can’t do with the aid of Dwarven magic.”

“So it’s a magical blade?” Harry asked her, wondering if it possessed any powers like her
huge sword.

“Yep,” she grinned “but I don’t know exactly what it does except for it having a
summoning charm on it, that, you’ll have to figure out on your own.”

Harry resisted the temptation to roll his eyes; the blade itself was made better than
anything he had ever seen, that was good enough for him.

“How does the summoning charm work?” Harry questioned “I saw you pull it out of thin air
before, did you have it on you already? Was it under a disillusionment charm? Or is it
something else?”
“That,” she smiled at him, showing off her perfect teeth, “I can answer. You see, as you
can imagine, when Dwarves make weapons, they make them with the fact that they have
to carry them in combat, in mind. Around seven hundred years ago, they invented a
runic charm that allows the true owner of the weapon to store it in a special pocket
dimension whenever it isn’t in use. All the user has to do if he or she wants to call their
weapon to them is will it to them and it shall appear.”

“Don’t the Goblins do something similar with their weapons?” Harry asked her, “how is that
runic charm exclusive to the Dwarven race?”

“The Goblins do something similar, but not entirely as effective,” she lectured as Harry
flew through a few practise swings with his new blade “the Goblins have always been
better at making armour while Dwarves specialize in weapons because of that, the
Goblins never really deemed it necessary to expand their skills in the use of that
particular charm. Their version only summons it from a location in this dimension, making
theft of the item entirely possible if the thief could modify the runes.”

Harry frowned and tried to will his new blade into this pocket dimension. Before his very
eyes, the blade shimmered out of existence, nowhere to be seen. Testing it again, Harry
willed the Flambert to appear in his hands, and in no time at all, in fact, instantly, it was there.

“That’s fairly awesome,” Harry said in an impressed tone “Now, I need to leave and you,”
he eyed the beautiful woman “want to go fuck your husband, so I’ll leave you to it,” he
bid her farewell, absently dodging a half-hearted smack to the head from the beauty.

“It’s called boning, don’t be so crude Harry,” she scolded with a grin, “Oh Lestaaaat” she
called out in that disturbingly sweet and sexy voice of hers, using magic to make her
voice sound like it was coming from every brick in their home.

“Oh, and Lucile?” Harry stopped before exiting the room and leaving her to her devices.

“Hmm?”

“I really am appreciative,” he said sincerely “If I were a thousand years older, I might
have even shown you how much,” he commented cheekily, knowing how sensitive the
woman was about her age, even though she didn’t say it.

“Humph, smart ass,” she grumbled in French, as she stalked the halls in search for her
husband, “thinks he’s all tough now that he has that sword, no matter, I’ll kick his ass next
time . . .”

In another part of the castle, Lestat poured himself a glass of his strongest whiskey and
was about to chug it down before the bottle won his attention.

‘Screw it’, he thought ‘Potter’s gotten her all riled up again, I’m going to need this.’

Chugging down the bottled alcohol, he felt a shiver go down his spine when he heard his
wife’s voice again “You know I love it when you hide from me darling,” she said in a
sing-song voice, “but if you don’t show yourself this instant and please me, you won’t get
any sleep for a year!”

Don’t get him wrong; there was nothing more Lestat loved to do than make love with his
wife. She was beautiful, sexy, the ultimate seductress, had a thousand years of
experience at the art and his soul mate, it was just times like this, when she was feeling
particularly . . .

The door to his office was smashed into millions of splinters as the love of his life entered
with a psychotic grin on her face and having already stripped down to her exquisite
looking black pantyhose.

Yes, it was times like this, usually after a good spar, when she was feeling exceedingly
violent and domineering, did their love making become . . . painful.

“Service me, husband,” she grinned as she sat on his desk and almost pulled his hair out
when she shoved his head into her nether regions.

‘Fucking brat,’ Lestat sighed as he began his evening job – being his wife’s little bitch.

Life at Moony Nights had been exceedingly more subdued ever since returning from the
end of their last school term. Cedric, Sirius, Remus and Tonks had been confused when
the usually bubbly and energetic Archie merely stalked right passed them right up to his
room when they arrived back at the inn, however, a few choice words from Harry cleared
things up rather quickly.

Other than performing his duties for Remus and his own business, Archie rarely ever left
his room for anything, and that included food; Cedric would usually bring up leftovers so
the boy wouldn’t starve himself to death. In fact, Sirius and Remus realized that he was
becoming very hermit like, almost like Harry whenever he was on holidays.

When Sirius had realized this and tried to pull him out of his funk - giving him the whole
‘there are more fish in the sea’ speech – he quickly realized that by simply being in his
presence, his own mood darkened as well.

The only positive was that Stephanie, along with the Zabinis, and her guests were due to
arrive at the end of the week so they could go to the game together. Harry had secured
them a twenty person magical tent for everyone who was sitting in his box to watch the game.

The stadium was designed to hold two hundred thousand people and had twenty private
boxes to hold the families and friends of the players and important political figures. Harry
had reserved one of the boxes for himself, as did every other English player. Everyone
coming to watch was assured first-class treatment, five-class meals, free beverages, and
luxurious surroundings as they watched the intense game.

Harry himself had to go to the stadium a week before the match was set to begin, as
Bulgaria (their opponents) and England would share the pitch for daily training sessions
before the match. Everyone else would arrive at their own pace during that week as two
hundred thousand people all heading to one location was kind of hard to hide from the muggles

Harry himself had left that morning, leaving the residents of Moony Nights alone there
until they too had to leave. Remus was initially going to be forced to remain behind until
Lizzy almost had to blast his ass against the wall for him to believe she capable of running
the place on her own for a couple of days.

“It’s weird here without Harry around,” Sirius grumbled as he and Cedric sat at one of
the booths eating their lunch.

“I know what you mean;” Cedric sighed as he played with his mashed potatoes “he was
never really down here that often with us, but he’s usually always around if you need him
for something, you know?”

Sirius nodded, frowning into his meal until a grin split his face “So, Mister Diggory, you
snag any more females this last term at Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts?”

Cedric’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he ducked his head and quickly looked
around to make sure no one was listening to their conversations.

“Aww, don’t be shy. Seeing as my beloved godson is practically the worst person in the
world to talk about this subject with, you’re my next best bet, especially since Monty
has become all broody and what not,” he reasoned with a huge grin, “besides, from what
I’ve heard, you’re giving my record a run for its money.”

Cedric managed a weak chuckle at the praise “Yeah, there were a few girls,” he giggled
perversely “okay, more than a few.”

“Oh, do tell,” Sirius rested his chin on his folded hands “no cheating or anything, I hope?”
Sirius grinned “not that I’m one to talk with my shenanigans when I was a kid, but girls
usually get quite angry if you do,” he shrugged, “imagine that.”

Cedric let out a nervous chuckle “Nah, no cheating, they all know it’s just in good fun,”
Cedric reasoned, “Besides, I don’t think I’ve found the right girl for a relationship yet.”

“I hear you,” Sirius nodded sagely before grinning perversely, “so, how many girls?”

“There were a few . . .”

Sirius gave him his best impression of a harsh gaze.

“Okay, maybe more than a few . . .”

Sirius didn’t let up.

“Six and a half,” he mumbled, he buried his face in his hands in embarrassment when Sirius
let out a whoop of joy.

“I’m assuming you’re going to tell me what that half means . . .”

“Funny story that,” Cedric chuckled, enjoying this ‘manly’ bonding session despite himself,
“you see, it was me and these two girls, right?”

Cedric yelped when Sirius jumped across the table and grabbed him in a firm headlock
before proceeding to give him the noogie of a lifetime “I’m so proud of you,” he gushed
several times loudly before Cedric was able to throw him off “keep going.”

Cedric then proceeded to explain, in very explicit detail, how exactly that half came
about. At the end, Sirius was wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” Sirius grinned, “because I was in a
situation not too different myself, but it was with three girls, triplets, a month before
you came back from Hogwarts . . .”

Before Sirius could launch into his actions of debauchery, their conversation was cut
short when an owl dropped two letters at the table and continued on to fly upstairs,
another letter in its talons for delivery.

The letters had both Harry’s and Cedric’s names on them.

“Oh, these must be our OWL results,” Cedric muttered to himself more than anyone, “I
wonder why Harry’s came here . . .”

“They’re cut off from all communications until the match is over,” Sirius explained “give it
here, there’s no point in looking though, we already know what it’s going to say.”

“Yeah, probably,” Cedric snorted in amusement as he read his own results “I’m not
Ravenclaw, but I think I did pretty good, I got an O in Defence and Transfiguration, E in
everything else except for History, I got an A in that.”

Sirius looked impressed “That’s way better than me, I failed three of my classes back
then,” he frowned as he read Harry’s report “What in Merlin’s name is a distinction?”

“It’s when a student’s mark is in the top three percent of all students’ marks, why did
Harry get one?”

Sirius ignored the question “And a high distinction?”

“The top mark out of all the students tested, why?”

“Wait,” Sirius frowned “you’re saying that as if Hogwarts isn’t the only school tested with
this system.”

Cedric frowned “Well, that’s because they’re not,” Cedric looked puzzled “didn’t you
know? The OWL system is used in all schools in the UK, North America and South America.”

“So Harry got the highest mark against what?” Sirius frowned, as he read the report “A
thousand students?”

Cedric chuckled “More like ten thousand,” he frowned “I think there are a lot more
schools in America than there is here, more people, you see?”

Sirius frowned “Harry must be pretty smart,” he chuckled “well, I already knew that, but
he must be really, really smart.”

“What do you mean?” Cedric ripped the piece of paper out of Sirius’ hands and read over
the results with open mouthed shock:

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass Grades: Outstanding (O) Fail Grades: Poor (P)

Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)

Acceptable (A) Troll (T)

HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:

Ancient Runes: O+
Astronomy: O

Arithmancy: O+

Charms: O+

Defence Against the Dark Arts: O+

Herbology: O

History of Magic: O

Potions: O+

Transfiguration: O+

Congratulations on your three High Distinctions and three Distinctions; any student
receiving a High Distinction is rewarded a Scholarship for the school in which they attend
for the remainder of the tenure.

Congratulations.

Cedric was still looking at Harry’s scores in open-mouthed shock while Sirius was grinning
proudly.

“That’s my godson,” he needlessly reminded the boy “Smartest fifth year in the world.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Cedric mumbled “but it’s fairly possible . . .”

Sirius continued to grin until the door opened, allowing the entrance of some people he
had never seen before, but by the way they were dressed and the composition of their
group, he had a fair idea of who they were.

“Say Cedric,” Sirius whispered to the boy “is that the girl Archie is moping over?”

“Huh?” he swivelled around to see where Sirius was pointing to see a familiar, if slightly
more mature and beautiful face “Oh, yeah that’s Stephanie,” he raised his voice
“Stephanie, over here!”

Cedric didn’t fail to notice how the girl’s hand was interlaced with the handsome boy’s. He
also noticed the stunningly beautiful blonde haired girl by her side and her midget copy.
The girl exuded an aura that made it seem like every other girl in the room was insignificant.

Stephanie approached their table, recognizing the boy from her time at Hogwarts; she
motioned for her company to follow.

Cedric tried and failed miserably to stop ogling the blonde haired French girl who looked at
her surroundings with disdain, seemingly not approving of the inn.

“Hello Cedric,” the girl greeted with a voice that held only a slight French accent “where’s
Archie, I figured he’d be hanging around, or ready to do something to embarrass me,”
she shook her head fondly, not really meaning anything harmful by her words. Stephanie
missed the dark look that crossed Cedric’s features, though the blonde girl did not.
“He’s busy,” Cedric replied distractedly “this is Sirius Black; by the way, he’s Harry’s Godfather.

“So you’re the one Archie talks so highly of in his letters,” Stephanie smiled “I’m sorry for
what happened to you, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he accepted her outstretched hand “who are these three?”

“Oh, how rude of me,” she pointed to the tall beauty to her right “This is Fleur Delacour
and her little sister Gabrielle,” she then motioned to the handsome and somewhat
snobbish looking boy with a smile, “and this is my boyfriend Jacques Philippe.”

“A pleasure,” Cedric said with a smile “Would you care to join us? We were just having lunch.”

The group sat in the booth alongside the two boys, Fleur and Jacques a little more
reluctantly than Gabrielle, who seemed to be fascinated with the food on Cedric’s plate.

“What are you reading?” Stephanie asked as she motioned to the paper still held in
Cedric’s hands.

“Oh, it’s Harry’s OWL results,” Cedric handed it back to Sirius, “I don’t think he’d appreciate
it if I just showed it to just anyone though, sorry.”

“Nonsense,” Sirius grinned, “You can look, he did great don’t you think?”

Stephanie accepted the piece of parchment from Sirius and read it with the same amount
of shock Cedric did. She then handed it to Fleur with a smug grin “See?” she sounded
amused “You thought Harry was like another Krum, ‘the lights are on, but nobody is home’
I believe you said,” she joked, “I believe this says differently.”

Fleur tried to look unimpressed, but the brief widening of her eyes as she read through
Harry’s scores said a whole other story.

“Where is this Archades you speak so much about?” Fleur changed the subject and asked
her friend in French “The way you speak of him would say that he’d be rather happy to
see you, no?” she frowned “He mustn’t be too enthusiastic if he has yet to greet you. I
thought you said he liked you, did he not?”

Sirius tried not to frown at Fleur’s behaviour; it was rather rude of her to switch to her
native tongue to speak with her friend when there were people at the table who couldn’t
understand her. He had heard her speak rather excellent English when she was talking to
her sister, so he was certain she knew the language.

“That was a couple of years ago,” Stephanie waved her hand “we were just children then,
I’m sure he’s grown out of it by now – do you guys know where Archie is right now?” she
switched back to English “I wouldn’t mind seeing him and introducing him to my friends.”

Cedric exchanged a quick worried glance Sirius, but the man just shrugged his shoulders
“Archie is in Harry’s room, I think,” Cedric said amicably “he was doing some research, I’m
not exactly sure of the details, but he’s kept himself rather busy ever since coming back
from school.”

“Do you mind if we go up to see him?” she asked, sounding hopeful. Cedric figured that
even though she had a boyfriend, Stephanie still must have missed Archie, they were
best friends growing up, after all.

“I won’t mind, Archie won’t mind,” he didn’t add the ‘I think’ at the end of that merely
because he didn’t think it proper “I’m not sure if Harry would be too pleased though, he
doesn’t like people going in his room. He gave Archie explicit permission to do so before he
left for the arena.”

“Please,” Fleur scoffed, her English may be excellent but she still had a very strong
French accent “’e is just a regular boy, I very much doubt zat his room is anything ozzer
than a cow sty,” she commented reproachfully.

Sirius resisted the urge to ask her to say ‘honourable’, knowing that it wouldn’t win him
any favours with the girl. Normally, he wouldn’t much care, but this was Remus’ place and
he’d probably get pissed if he annoyed potential customers - especially ones that are
guestsof Archie’s.

“If you say so,” Cedric grinned slightly; the girl was in for a rude awakening “Just knock
loudly on Harry’s door, Archie may not hear you otherwise.”

Gabrielle tugged on her sister’s sleeve and started to converse with her in French, she
seemed to be asking a favour of the girl because the dreaded puppy-dog eyes came into play.

Fleur sighed irritably “Do you mind if Gabrielle remains ‘ere with Jacques?” she frowned
“she wants to know more about zis ‘arry Potter she so admires.”

“No problem,” Sirius gave a charming smile “anything for adoring little fans of my
adorable Godson!”

“Sirius,” Cedric pinched the bridge of his nose, “that sounded really gay.”

Jacques seemed to protest to having to babysit Gabrielle, but one sharp glare from Fleur
shut him up real quick.

Stephanie, remembering where Harry’s room was located from past experiences, led
Fleur up the stairs and to the first door on the right.

“I don’t see why you’re so eager to see him,” Fleur said with a frown, “it’s obvious from
what you’ve told me that the boy was very much in love with you when you were both
younger, I very much doubt that’s changed from what you’ve told me about him.”

“Don’t be silly Fleur,” Stephanie chided “we haven’t actually seen each other in years, he
should know by now that any possible relationship we could have had is just out of the
question.”

Fleur didn’t get to respond as someone finally opened the door in response to their
knocking. Objectively, Fleur had to admit that the boy was rather cute, and not that
she’d ever tell Stephanie, but she definitely thought he was better looking that Jacques.
The only problem was that the boy – who she assumed was Archie – had heavy dark
rings around his eyes; it looked like he hadn’t slept in ages.

“Stephanie?” he said with surprise in his voice, “what are you doing here?”

Stephanie frowned “You invited us, remember?” she didn’t sound too happy by his greeting
“or did you forget already?”
“No, I mean here, in Harry’s room, you know how he is about people going through his
stuff,” Archie looked to the blonde girl standing beside his childhood friend “you must be
Fleur, it’s nice to meet you, thanks for taking care of Stephanie over there while we couldn’t.”

His smile was infectious, and despite her better judgement, Fleur found herself returning it
“Eet is no problem, you must be this Archie I ‘ave ‘eard so much about,” she held out her
hand to him and Archie took it before placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

Stephanie was surprised with how Fleur greeted Archie. It wasn’t that the girl was rude
to everyone, she was just usually a little cold and condescending to people she hadn’t
met yet. Archie must have made a good impression. What surprised her more however
was that Archie didn’t seem to be affected by Fleur’s Veela aura in the slightest!

“Um, do you want to come in?” Archie asked while scratching the back of his head before
smiling apologetically “I can’t let you go in Harry’s study or his bedroom – he’d castrate me
– but you can come into the main room here,” he opened the door properly allowing the
girls entrance.

Fleur was about to roll her eyes at the mention of a study and a bedroom separate from
the room. The Inn itself may have been of better standard and style than she had
expected, but it was nothing compared to Beauxbatons. Englishmen just knew nothing of style.

So imagine her surprise when Archie opened the door to reveal a Victorian style room
that was beautifully decorated with expensive furniture and, to her everlasting shock,
impeccably clean.

“This room is a lot nicer than the study now anyways, I’ve been rather busy in there for
the past few weeks, it’s rather messy,” Archie replied sheepishly “let me just clean up and
I’ll be with you real quick.”

As Archie pushed the door of the study wide open so he could clean up after himself,
Fleur and Stephanie got a good look of what lay inside. Hundreds of books were lining the
walls while several dozen lay strewn about across the floor, most of them gathered
around a cauldron that Archie seemed to be in the middle of using. That was all they got
to see however before the door swung close again.

The two girls took a seat each by the cackling fire, taking comfort in the warmth it
provided despite the fact that it was a rather warm day outside.

“Better than you expected then?” Stephanie grinned smugly “It wasn’t this nice the last
time I was in here, but it was still nicer then I bet you were expecting.”

“The last time you were in here?” Fleur grinned “You slut!”

Stephanie’s face turned bright red in embarrassment “You know that’s not what I meant
you bitch!” the words were harsh, but you could tell that the two were just playfully
insulting each other “Besides,” Stephanie added “he may be hot, but he’s not my type of guy.”

“And Jacques is?” Fleur asked humorously “The boy is a coward and lacks a spine.”

“Give it a rest,” Stephanie sighed wearily, it sounded like they’d had this conversation
many times before “Jacques is really nice and he helped me a lot with catching up with my wor
“I’m sure the kissing has nothing to do with it,” Fleur commented dryly as Stephanie’s face lit u

“Yes, well,” she stammered “I’m just making sure you French are as good at kissing as you
claim to be.”

“You seem to be compiling a remarkable amount of data to prove that claim,” Fleur shot
back “I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t asked to move to the next base yet either,
boys can be such pigs like that.”

Stephanie flushed again “He has,” she relented “but I told him I wanted to take it slow, see
if I really like him enough before taking that step.”

“And you don’t like Archie like that?” Fleur asked doubtfully “He looks much cuter than
Jacques, and, as loathe as I am to admit it, he is much more charming.”

“Archie’s like my brother,” Stephanie said unconvincingly “Can we not talk about my love
life? It’s not like you are the perfect saint, you had three boyfriends last year!”

“They were all buffoons,” Fleur said scathingly “Easy on the eyes but completely idiotic or
they only had one thing on their mind, and that was to get in my panties.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Archie re-entered the room, looking slightly
more refreshed if a little hurried “Sorry for the wait,” Fleur noticed he didn’t seem as
cheery as he did before. She was an expert at reading people’s emotions, in fact, she
prided herself on the skill; however, this boy’s behaviour was confusing her. What could
have possibly happened in the short time apart that could dampen his mood further?

“That’s fine,” Stephanie smiled as she gave Archie a hug. Fleur didn’t miss the boy stiffen
slightly before awkwardly returning it and wondered if her friend was truly so naïve, or if
it was a selective blindness “is that your OWL results?” she asked as she pointed to an
unopened envelope on the table between them “why haven’t you opened them?”

Archie shrugged “I was busy and I don’t much care to be honest,” he grinned “I don’t
want to sound arrogant, but I know I passed, I don’t really care by how much,” the girls
didn’t need to know that he was already on his way to becoming well off with his business
well underway.

“Can I open it?” Stephanie asked with childlike excitement, she looked like a kid on
Christmas. Archie chuckled and gave her a shrug “knock yourself out.”

She ripped open the envelope and gasped at what she saw. It wasn’t as impressive as
Harry’s, but he definitely did excellently. He did get the High Distinction in Potions, but
somehow, Stephanie knew he would anyway.

“That good?” Archie grinned “The OWLs were ridiculously easy, I don’t take much pride in
acing them to be honest,” he mumbled as he read through his mark, “oh, awesome, I get
my last two years of school paid for because of the High Distinction!”

“You don’t sound too excited about zee ‘igh Distinction,” Fleur pointed out “Does it not
surprise you to be the top student out of thousands in the subject?”

Archie just shrugged, not knowing how to answer that question without coming off as a
complete dick. He wondered how Harry did it while not caring about what people thought
all the time.
“Did Harry’s scores come too?” Archie asked Stephanie who nodded in the positive and
relayed his marks.

“Humph, smartass,” Archie grumbled good naturedly, “So, where’s this boyfriend of
yours; I thought he was coming, as well as her kid sister?”

Stephanie suddenly felt very awkward as she heard Archie’s tone and couldn’t tell why,
Fleur had to fight the urge to slap herself in the face at her friend’s behaviour “He’s
downstairs watching little Gabby while we came up here to check up on you.”

“I see,” Archie mumbled “well, are you happy?” Archie looked deep into her eyes as he
asked this, slightly unnerving her “does he treat you well?”

“Err . . .” she didn’t know how to answer immediately “yeah, yes he does. He’s helped me
a lot with adjusting with the course work at Beauxbatons and he’s really nice.”

Archie continued to look into her eyes for a few more moments before smiling “As long as
you’re happy, that’s all I can ask for.”

Stephanie was surprised by the response, unknowingly expecting him to say something
completely different. Fleur however, nodded to herself as she reclined against the
comfortable chair with her arms crossed as if something had just been proven to her.

“So,” Archie grinned “tell me about Beauxbatons, it can’t be worse than Hogwarts.”

The three talked for several hours that night before going their separate ways, two of
them catching up while the third was more than happy to provide the embarrassing
details when necessary.

“You love ‘er.”

If Archie was surprised that someone had snuck up on him in his room and interrupted his
brewing, he didn’t show it.

“That’s not exactly a secret,” Archie didn’t bother looking up at the girl behind him, “can I
help you with something?”

Fleur’s beautiful features were marred with a frown for a moment as she sat atop the
unoccupied desk before continuing “Why do you not try to win ‘er back then?” she said
with confusion “if you love ‘er so much.”

Archie sprinkled the next ingredient into the cauldron carefully before answering “As long
as she’s happy, I don’t care,” he shrugged “that Jacques seems like an okay guy, if
Stephanie likes him, who am I to ruin that?”

Fleur slammed her hands on the desk she was sitting on and cursed loudly in French,
Archie resisted the urge to snort in amusement “You are making no sense and are being
completely illogical!”

“Is that right?” Archie chuckled softly “How so?”

“Eet is obvious that you are in love with ‘er, you practically have it written all over your
face whenever you look at ‘er” she argued, “I’ve ‘eard the stories of your antics when
you were younger and I find it ‘ard to believe that you are zee same person I ‘ave ‘eard about.”

Archie shrugged “I’m not going to cry and beg her to take me because she chose
somebody else . . .”

“Zat does not count when she didn’t think you an option to begin with!”

“Why do you care so much?” Archie frowned “from what Stephanie told me about you,
you’re hardly the person to care about such things, especially when it concerns ‘silly leetle
boys’ like myself.”

“Stephanie eez my best and only friend,” Fleur said angrily “that Jacques eez not good
enough for her!”

“Shouldn’t that be for Stephanie to decide?” Archie asked with concern.

“Zat girl is so blind zat she ‘as no clue what she wants,” Fleur argued heatedly “she felt
lonely and in need of companionship at Beauxbatons, so she latched onto zee first boy
zat offered to provide it for ‘er.”

“And you think I’m the right person for her?” Archie said with amusement “I don’t know
whether to be insulted for being used as an alternative to Jacques or flattered that you’d
think so,” he shrugged “it doesn’t matter though, I’m not going to ruin her current
relationship because of what I want.”

“So you admit you want ‘er,” Fleur said triumphantly, “then why not claim ‘er for yourself?”

“Because she’s not an object to be claimed!” Archie spat angrily at her, but he was
confused when he saw her victorious grin.

“Good answer, unfortunately it eez not zee one Jacques would ‘ave given.”

“Why do you keep comparing me to him?” Archie asked, “Has he not been good to her? Is
she unhappy? Did she lie to me?”

“No,” Fleur shrugged “but ‘e is not the one she loves.”

“She told you otherwise?” Archie suddenly sounded interested in the conversation.

“No,” she relented, “but she does not ‘ave to, I can see it in ‘er eyes.”

Archie rolled his eyes in annoyance, “When you have something a little more concrete,
like words, then come see me.”

“You act like you don’t even care for ‘er happiness!”

Archie rounded on her angrily “Her happiness is the only thing I do care about,” he almost
snarled at her, “Don’t ever presume I don’t care about her feelings, she’s obviously
pleased with the way things are at the moment or she wouldn’t be sticking her tongue
down his throat!”

Fleur looked at him in stunned silence, trying to comprehend what Archie had just said to
her. Comprehension suddenly dawned on her features, “You ‘eard us talking yesterday,”
she murmured, “You can speak French? Stephanie never said this.”

“That is because she doesn’t know,” Archie replied in perfect French, though his accent was
still off, “I invented a potion that temporarily helps with information retention so I could
learn it,” he smiled bitterly “for her actually, it was my way of showing my support to her.”

“You’re jealous,” she smiled victoriously; she did not expect his reaction to that
statement though.

“Of course I’m fucking jealous!” he snarled at her “I love her more than anything in this
world! I’d take a killing curse for her, without question! She knows that, she knows how I
feel about her, I’ve never kept it secret from her, but the second she’s away from me for
more than a year, she finds solace in the arms of someone else!” Archie closed his eyes
and took a few steady breaths so he could calm down, “Do you have any idea how hard it
is to see her all snuggled up with that douchebag?! Every time I see her looking at him the
way I want her to look at me makes me feel like someone just stabbed me in the gut, do
you understand that?” his eyes narrowed “Or are you just content in meddling with other
people’s lives while not understanding a thing about them yourself – you know, you’re so
much like Harry it’s scary, but at least he knows when to leave me the fuck alone!” Archie
closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths to calm down before turning his back on
her, “As long as she’s happy, it doesn’t matter what I feel.”

Fleur stared at the boy in open-mouthed shock. She only figured it was a silly childhood
crush that this boy had on her friend, and couple that with the fact that she didn’t like
the chauvinistic French boy, she figured she could break them up and get these two
together. He seemed like a much better match for her than Jacques was, especially after
what she had heard from Stephanie about the incident that landed her in Beauxbatons.
She never once imagined that this boy was actually, totally and completely in love with
her friend.

“Can you leave me please?” Archie asked in a quiet voice “I’m busy and you’re wasting my tim

Fleur didn’t even think to criticise him for his rude behaviour, she had too much on her
mind and simply left the room in a daze.

“Get up Monty, Diggle-dumpkins, up you get!”

Archie and Cedric both groaned in annoyance as Sirius’ unmistakable voice roused them
from their peaceful slumber. They woke up without much fuss though and fumbled around
for their clothes to get dressed quickly; today was the day they’d make their way to the
World Cup final, after all.

They already had their tent reserved, thanks to Harry, and their bags packed to stay for
a week, maximum. To avoid being detected by the muggles, every fan would make their
way slowly to the ground, in groups, to avoid suspicion. The British Ministry would
organize the groups and portkeys so they could arrive though; they had already been
given a preset location to arrive at so they could all take the portkey with several dozen
other people.

Dressed in warm clothes, Cedric and Archie stumbled downstairs carrying their magically
enlarged backpacks and wearing their England scarves to see everyone else ready and
waiting for them.
“About time, you guys,” Stephanie grumbled irritably “we’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

“Blame him,” Archie sounded just as irritated, “fucking man-whore can’t walk five meters
without sticking his dick in something.”

Stephanie looked to Cedric with surprise while Fleur scolded Archie for his use of profanity
in front of Gabrielle. Stephanie frowned when she saw Sirius give Cedric a hidden low
five, one he returned happily.

“That Spanish girl?”

“Mhmm,” Cedric mumbled under his breath, “she had the best ass I’ve ever seen . . .”

“You two are disgusting!” Stephanie’s face was a curious shade of red in a mixture of
embarrassment and feminine fury.

“Hey, that’s not nice,” Sirius frowned “it’s not like we’re asking you to listen to our
conversations.”

Stephanie turned on her heel and walked out the door, dragging Jacques with him by the
hand. Tonks looked to Remus and then Sirius with a frown “Did I miss something?”

“Best not get involved,” Remus shook his head in amusement, “you ready to go, love?”

Tonks nodded and then giggled before pecking Remus on the nose and dragging him out
the front door much like Stephanie had done with Jacques.

“Eww,” Sirius cringed in disgust, “You two are disgusting!”

Archie sighed softly and followed Fleur, Gabrielle and the dastardly duo out the door and
down the alley to their local Portkey point.

When they arrived, a Ministry official was there to mark their names off a roster. They
only had to wait fifteen more minutes for the last group of people to arrive, the Zabinis,
who were still five minutes early despite being the last ones there.

“Alright folks, just hold onto this rope and on the count of three, you’ll be portkeyed away
to the campsite; one – two – three!”

The Ministry official had said that so fast that Archie almost didn’t grab the rope in time
before he was suddenly overcome with the feeling of portkey transportation. He didn’t
much like it, in his opinion, it felt like being sucked up by a violent tornado and then spat
out at a different location.

With a painful sounding thump, Archie landed on his back in a field of grass, his vision still
slightly blurry and his world spinning from the uncomfortable sensations brought on by
that method of transportation.

“You alright there mate?” Cedric’s amused voice assaulted his senses.

“Shut up and help me up,” Archie grumbled, accepting his friend’s hand as he hoisted
himself up to a standing position before dusting himself off. Sirius was snickering at his
misfortune, as were several other members of their little group.
Looking around, Archie figured that they were in some deserted moor with a large forest
not too far off in the distance with several large fields surrounding them. The number of
people, however, and the general hustle and bustle going on around him was mind-boggling.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Cedric said to him “Over two hundred thousand people are going
to this game; they have to rest and party somewhere, right?”

“Indeed Cedric,” Remus said with a smile “the majority of those tents you see lined up in
the outer fields are probably each charmed to house fifty people, you can thank Harry for
getting us a private one closer to the stadium.”

And what a stadium it was. Even at this distance – Archie estimated it to be a few
kilometres away – the monumental construct towered over the surrounding forest and
marshlands. Its golden walls were glistening in the sunlight and truly made it a sight to behold.

“This way please,” another Ministry official shouted at the group that had just arrived,
“follow that path please to get to the campgrounds, if you need a tent to stay in, please
remain behind for directions to the help tent that will get you assigned one . . .”

The ‘Harry Potter’ group, as Archie dubbed their little entourage, tuned the official out as
they followed Remus, who seemed to know where he was going, across several huge
fields and to their own tent. As they travelled, the general atmosphere seemed to get
the best of them as they joined in on some of the festivities. People were outside of their
tents cooking barbeques, children were running around and playing with each other and
several groups of people were arguing over the supposed victor of this game.

Archie was surprised to see an equal amount of Bulgarian fans as English fans, when he
asked Sirius what was up with that, the man said “Well, it wouldn’t be entirely fair if
either team had the more fans. It may be England’s home final, but that doesn’t mean
they couldn’t fill half the stadium for Bulgarian supporters.”

Finally, after a fairly long and arduous walk, they arrived at a tent that had the words
‘Potter’ embroided on the door flap. The tent looked as shabby and cheap as every other
tent in the area, but Archie very much doubted that it would look anything like the
outside once they all went in.

If a muggle was close by, they would have watched, shocked, as twelve people, one
after the other all marched into a two-man sized tent as if it were the most normal thing
in the world, and fit, quite comfortably.

Just as he’d expected, the tent was styled very much like Harry’s room back at Moony
Nights. Archie suspected Harry might have actually had something to do with the charms
that went into creating it. There was a large main room with a small kitchen, eating area
and lounging area with eleven doors leading to other rooms. Ten of those rooms were
bedrooms, each with two Queen sized beds in them, and one of them was a nice bathroom.

“Alright folks,” Remus spoke up so everyone could hear him “The adults, minus Sirius, and
I have discussed a few rules that you all must abide by while we’re here,” Remus ignored
his glaring friend, “You can do what you like during the day, so long as you tell someone
where you’re going first, but you must be back here by ten o’clock in the evening, unless
you get permission otherwise. We’re all responsible for you and with so many people
around, it wouldn’t be hard for something to happen and for no one to notice.”

Everyone gave their consent to the rules Remus laid down before heading off to claim
their own rooms. Archie, happy he could get his own room for once, made his way over to
the closest door and entered before locking it with as many charms as he knew.

Stephanie frowned at Archie’s behaviour. Other than the few hours she practically forced
Archie to spend with her when they first arrived, it seemed like the boy had been avoiding
her. She had missed him terribly during the two years she was forced to spend away from
her friends and family, and by what Archie said in his letters to her, she gathered he felt
the same way.

Saddened and a little hurt by her childhood friend’s behaviour, she followed Fleur and
Gabrielle to one of the rooms while Jacques picked one out for himself.

In the few days spent lounging around the campgrounds, Archie barely ever left his room
other than to eat or use the bathroom. He wasn’t really in the mood to see Jacques and
Stephanie act all lovey-dovey and he really wasn’t in the mood to face the Spanish
inquisition, which would be hosted by Sirius and Cedric.

He did notice though, when he left the privacy of his room, that Fleur kept sending him
weird looks. They weren’t the kind of looks most guys would kill to have a Veela send at
them; they were more the curious kind. It still unnerved him, but not in the way many
would have thought. He really didn’t like people knowing a lot about him and his emotions
– Harry was different, the guy could read him like a book regardless of how much he tried
to hide it, so it was pointless. With Fleur, she caught him with a weakened state of mind
and he just let some things slip.

It was amusing though to hear Cedric and Sirius brag about their exploits, the former
doing so in a less discrete way than the other – though he supposed that wasn’t saying
much considering Sirius practically jumped on the dinner table and pronounced his
conquests to the world whenever he could. He had to laugh whenever he heard Sirius or
Cedric say that they were going out on the prowl to hunt for their next victims.

Another source of entertainment at the dinner table was little Gabrielle. The girl was
probably ‘Harry Potter’s’ number one fan; the fact that she was able to meet people that
were close to him and ask questions about him was like a dream come true for her.
Archie probably would have found the little terror quite annoying if she wasn’t so damn
adorable – he figured everyone shared the same thoughts regarding her.

Dressing in some clothes he pilfered from Harry’s closet though, and his England scarf,
Archie was ready head off to the box earlier than the rest, wanting to enjoy the
first-class accommodations for as long as possible. The game wasn’t scheduled to start
for a few hours yet. Harry’s clothes, surprisingly, were a pretty good fit, if just slightly
baggy. Where Harry had him beat in muscle mass, Archie had him in height, so it wasn’t
too much of a problem. He did particularly like how the double-breasted black coat looked
on him though.

“Bianca, I’m heading over early so I can avoid the crowd, is that okay?” he called to the
beautiful woman who looked up from her magazine and regarded the boy.

“My, my, don’t we look charming this evening?” she asked with an appraising eye. Despite
being like a mother to him, and an older woman, Archie couldn’t help but blush – Bianca
Zabini was the kind of woman that could do that to a man with a simple compliment.

“I ‘borrowed’ them from Harry’s wardrobe,” he used air quotations where necessary, “I’m
sure Harry won’t mind, the kid has so much clothes I doubt he’d notice.”

“Well, you look very handsome dear, go along, we won’t be leaving for another two
hours. Don’t get into any trouble and stick to the path, you hear?”

“No problem,” he called back to her as he exited their tent. He was almost home free too
until a cannonball struck him in the leg, causing him to stumble. Looking behind him, he
realized that the cannonball was in fact Gabrielle Delacour and she had latched herself on
to his leg.

“Can I come wiz you?” she asked, using her adorable puppy-dog eyes “Please?”

Sighing, he looked over to Bianca who was laughing at his plight “Go on, take her,” she
smiled “she’s been waiting all week for this, I suppose it won’t hurt any.”

Archie sighed again “Make sure you let Fleur know,” he winced “I don’t need no angry
Veela out for my blood because she thinks I kidnapped her baby sister.”

“I am not a baby!” Gabrielle protested as she clambered up onto his back so she could be
piggybacked instead of walking “I am a beautiful young woman.”

Archie grinned at the little nine year-old; she really was just too cute “All the boys are
going to be jealous of me for having such a beautiful young woman on my back you know that?

Crossing her arms and sticking her nose up in their air in a show of mock snobbishness, she
said “And so zey should be.”

Archie chuckled at the girl’s antics and hefted her higher on his back so she was in a more
comfortable position. She wasn’t too heavy, but she was gripping his neck rather tight so
she wouldn’t fall off his back.

“Away my noble steed,” she giggled “the stadium awaits!”

He humoured the little girl by making a horse-like noise before making his way through the
other half of the campsite and to the path that lead to the stadium. Once they reached
the end of the campgrounds, a trail leading into a dark forest that was lined with
lanterns became visible. People were already making their way over, but Archie was
certain it wasn’t as busy as it would be in a couple of hours.

The walk through the forest only took ten minutes before they reached the other side.
The second the two were free of the damp and dark forest, Gabrielle gasped in wonder
as she was finally able to see the stadium up close.

“Amazing,” she breathed out in wonder, Archie had to agree. They were so close to it
now that he had to crane his neck up to he could see the top.

“Did you remember to bring your ticket Gabby?” Archie asked the little girl, who nodded
against his back in response as they made their way to one of the entrances.

The line was rather short considering he had the foresight to come earlier than the rest.
So after two minutes standing in line, the woman official called them over where they
both presented their sparkling tickets. Their tickets were much nicer than the average
fans’ ones as they were going to be seated in one of the players’ boxes.
“Oh, guests of Harry Potter’s then?” the woman asked with a kind smile while validating
their tickets with a wave of her wand “take the stairs to the right, a house elf will be
waiting for you at the top to escort you to your box.”

“Thank-you,” Archie accepted his and Gabrielle’s tickets back, “Do you happen to know if
anyone else is in the box yet?”

She scanned through a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard before answering “Yes, a
Lord and Lady d’Auvergne have been here for an hour already.”

Gabrielle gasped quietly, but Archie was the only one to hear it as the girl was resting
her head on the back of his neck when she did so.

“Thank-you, lets go Gabby,” he hoisted her a little higher again and ascended the stairs
he was directed to before being met by a well-dressed house elf who lead the way to their box.

“You recognize the names Gabrielle?” he asked the girl, he certainly did but he wanted to
know how she knew of the two vampires.

“Yes,” she spoke quietly “they are very influential people back in France, grandmamma
talks of them often, she does business with them, I think.”

“Have you ever met them?” he asked the girl in her natural tongue, she seemed more
comfortable talking French than English anyway.

“Yes, once,” she answered, “Mister Lestat is very attractive, but his wife scares me.”

Archie resisted the urge to laugh, most guys usually had the opposite reaction to the
vampires, it was amusing to hear a girl say the exact same thing “She’s not so bad,”
Archie assured her “a little crazy sometimes, but she’s really nice once you get to know
her,” he figured he throw in a bit of information Gabrielle would really enjoy to know “You
know, she’s like a mother to Harry, not that he sees it that way, but she certainly acts
very protective of him.”

“Are you serious?” she sounded excited to hear about her hero. The two boarded an
elevator that would most likely take them up to the level their box was at “I never knew
that, she must be really nice then.”

Archie wanted to laugh at her childish logic “I’m not exactly sure I’d call her nice,” he joked
“but her heart is definitely in the right place – most of the time – usually – on occasion . . .”

The youngster giggled at his antics as the house elf addressed him “We is arriving at your
box sir,” the elevator door opened with a ‘ping’ revealing a rather large and beautifully
decorated room. The entire wall directly in front of him was entirely made of glass, and it
was curved slightly to allow for maximum visibility of the entire pitch.

The dining table was already occupied by someone he easily recognized as Lestat who
seemed to be eating some dinner. Scanning the room briefly, he also found Lucile sitting
at the bar slowly, and sensually, eating olives. Sweet Merlin, how could she make
something as bland as eating olives seem like the sexiest thing in the world?

When Lucile saw that she had his attention, she grinned seductively at him and made a
show of slowly eating another olive, making sure he saw her wrap her tongue around the
little snack. Archie couldn’t help but flush in embarrassment. The fact that she was
dressed in a black, almost skin-tight, dress with an extremely low-cut didn’t help matters either.

Lucile laughed elegantly and turned to her husband “I like this one Lestat, can we keep him?”

“Leave Archie alone dear,” Lestat said wearily “and stop teasing him with those damn olives.”

“But he’s so fun to tease,” Lucile pouted playfully “much more so than Harry anyway.”

Lestat rolled his eyes and smiled at the little girl clinging to Archie’s back, “Don’t I know
you from somewhere, little one?”

Gabrielle replied in kind, “Yes sir, you do business with my grandmamma.”

Lestat made a show of trying to remember who she was before grinning brightly “Why if it
isn’t little Gabrielle Delacour, you were just a cute little girl last time I saw you, it was hard
to recognize you now that are a beautiful young lady.”

Archie raised an eyebrow and looked to the midget clinging to his back with a smile as she
flushed in embarrassment and crawled deeper into his back. She muttered a quiet
thank-you before leaping off Archie’s back and running to the window to see the pitch.

“Archie, take a seat, have you eaten?” Lestat greeted the young man as he motioned to
his food “The steak is exquisite, you must try it.”

“I am a little hungry, now that you mentioned it,” Archie sat near the vampire who was
seated at the head of the rectangular table “how do you order?”

Lestat merely clicked his fingers as a house elf arrived to take the order, “So, what
brings you here so early?” he asked conversationally “Lucile and I had finished business
earlier than expected today so we figured we could take advantage of these tickets and
sample the food here before the game.”

“The olives are divine,” Lucile suddenly whispered in his ear, causing Archie to startle and
flush, once again.

“I noticed,” Archie coughed into his hand “I just wanted to avoid the crowd and little
Gabby wanted to see the stadium as soon as possible,” he grinned as they all looked over
to the little girl who was making noises of amazement while looking out different sections
of the window.

“You’re a horrible liar, you know that Archie?” Lucile said with a grin as she sat directly
opposite him and randomly plucked food of Lestat’s plate.

Archie matched her gaze and asked, “What makes you say that?”

“Depression isn’t one thing that would come to mind if I were asked to describe you
Archie,” Lestat replied dryly while glaring at his wife who had snatched the piece of steak
he was about to eat right off his fork.

“I’m not depressed,” he hurriedly denied, only to be met with a raised brow from Lucile.

“And I’m not horny,” she countered convincingly before smirking “but I’m a much better
liar than you,” to accentuate her point, Lestat started in his chair before shooting a glare
at his wife who tried and failed to look the perfect picture of innocence.
With a sigh, Archie told them of Stephanie being back from France and the fact that she
brought a boyfriend with her.

“Are you not going to try and win her back?” Lestat asked immediately after the
mentioning of what happened.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Archie asked rhetorically.

“That’s because it’s incredibly easy,” Lestat answered anyway “believe it or not, I had
the same problem with Lucile way back when.”

“That’s completely different, my love, and you know it.”

“How so?” Lestat asked with a frown.

“For one, I was in an arranged marriage against my will that I could not break out of,” she
lifted a finger as if starting a list, “secondly, this Jacques isn’t some fat, perverted, scum
of a man – as far as we know – and thirdly,” she grinned “I very much doubt that
beheading the boy to claim Stephanie would win him any favours with anyone.”

“It would with me,” Lestat said honestly before sending a grin at the exasperated Archie.

“Archie, what is that?” Gabrielle called from the window in wonder while pointing to the
massive Pensieve screen.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to return to my master,” he replied dryly, “You’ll call me when
my food gets here?”

“No problem,” Lestat waved his hand as if dismissing the boy who took his queue to leave
and attend to the amazed girl.

“He’s an interesting one,” Lucile mumbled to her husband, quietly enough so that the
other two occupants of the room couldn’t hear them “the boy wears masks as if it were
second nature to him.”

“As is custom for those who have experienced severe hardship in their lives,” Lestat
responded equally as quietly “he’s quite the expert at the art though, I must admit.”

“Today is the first time I’ve actually seen him visibly upset, I guess it just goes to show
how much that girl is affecting him.”

Lestat nodded “I myself usually have a hard time reading him, and I’m an incredibly skilled
Legilimens,” he stated “a feat, if I ever saw one. The fact that he is visibly depressed
right now is . . . disconcerting.”

“Disconcerting how?”

“You have heard of the very few things Harry has eluded to in regards to the boy’s work
and studies,” Lestat chided his wife “should he actually succeed in any of them, even just
one, it could be tremendously helpful in the future.”

Lucile frowned “I think he mentioned something about the boy being an incredibly skilled
Potions brewer and a budding Alchemist.”
“I have not heard of someone studying the art of Alchemy since Albus Dumbledore,”
Lestat frowned “many think it a colossal waste of time,” he sighed “and they would be
right, considering how many years of hard work it requires to be even somewhat sufficient
in the art.”

“These kids are just so interesting,” Lucile grinned excitedly, “I haven’t been this excited
about the future since we discovering the wonderful drug that is Viagra.”

Lestat resisted the urge to palm his face. Sometimes, his wife was just too much. Despite
being the Nymphomaniac that she is though, he honestly wouldn’t have her any other way.

“There you are Monty!” Sirius arrived at the box with the rest of the group behind him
with a huge smile “wow, this is amazing.”

Lestat, Lucile and Archie were sitting on three subsequent recliners while Gabrielle was
perched on Archie’s lap quite comfortably. The four of them were amusing themselves by
watching the pre-match festivities until the rest of their friends arrived.

“Gabrielle,” Fleur scolded angrily “Why did you run off without telling me? Do you know
how worried I was until Mrs Zabini told me where you went?”

“I’m sorry sister,” Archie almost sniggered when he saw the girl use her most lethal
weapon, those damn puppy-dog eyes “I wanted to see the stadium as soon as possible
and then I learned that Archie was coming early – will you forgive me?”

All the wind seemed to be stolen from Fleur’s sales “Did you take good care of ‘er?”

Archie realized he was being addressed so he raised his hand dismissively “I was this
young lady’s noble steed, how could I let any harm come to her with such an important job?”

Fleur frowned at him “She was not any trouble was she?” she sent a disapproving frown at
her sister, who was still the perfect image of innocence.

“She was fine,” Archie said dismissively “Have you guys eaten? I’d try the steak if I was
you, it’s really good.”

“Is that why you came early?” Remus asked, speaking up for the first time after finishing
with his inspection of the room and talking with the bartender now manning the bar “I
thought you were just getting bored waiting,” he said with a chuckle.

“Why not take advantage?” he said “we can stay in a tent whenever we want, but these
Ministry boxes are a once in a lifetime kind of thing, right?” Archie reasoned.

“Sure,” Tonks grinned happily “you recommend the steak?”

The group all sat down for their dinner while Stephanie and Fleur kept shooting weird
looks at Archie who was playing with the little girl on his lap and keeping her entertained
by pointing out random things they both see through the large window.

“Those Veela are not as pretty as Fleur and me,” Gabrielle said haughtily, earning an
amused chuckle from Archie.
“Of course not,” Archie joked “but it wouldn’t be proper for a refined lady such as
yourself to dance for all these hooligans like those girls are, right?”

“Of course not,” she crossed her hands and looked at him imperiously “I am much too
beautiful to waste my talents on such riff-raff.”

“Oh?” he asked, getting a wicked idea “and who would you waste your beauty on then, Gabby?

“’Arry Potter of course!” she sighed dreamily “when I grow older, we’re going to get
married and have lots of beautiful children that will all be Quidditch stars!”

Archie really tried to hold in his laughter, imagining just how Harry would react if he ever
meets Gabrielle. He wasn’t very fond of little kids, after all, especially the cute ones.

Fleur and Stephanie looked on with interest as practically all the males in the room, except
for Archie, and Lestat, were affected, in some way, by the beautiful Veela that were
dancing on the field. Jacques, Sirius and Cedric were all practically drooling like dogs and
Fleur resisted the urge to scold them; they were acting in her favour, after all.

“Look at Archie,” Fleur whispered to her friend “He does not seem to be affected in the
slightest by the Veela, you know they say that our charm is completely useless against
those who are truly in love with someone,” she was embellishing a little, but it was mostly
true. They had to be rather powerful too, but even powerful wizards are susceptible to
their charm.

Stephanie didn’t have an answer to that as she looked at her boyfriend reproachfully.
Twenty minutes passed by quickly as they ate until Gabrielle’s voice caught their attention.

“Look!” Gabrielle squealed excitedly “They are starting, the Bulgarians, they are coming!”

Those who didn’t speak French were quickly clued in by those who did as they all rushed
to a chair to watch the pre-match entertainment.

From over the stadium walls, red and black fireworks were set off that took the shape of a
large swooping raven. The Raven’s body burst in a miraculous display of light, revealing
the Bulgarian team from within who sped around the pitch in a ‘V’ formation. The one at
the head of their formation, their Star seeker Victor Krum, broke away from his team and
performed a handstand on his broom before stopping in front of the Bulgarian cheer
squad who all held up a piece of magically enhanced card, that when combined with the
hundreds held up by the people around them, created a huge picture of Krum in all his glory.

The chants of the fans repeating ‘Krum, Krum, Krum’ was almost deafening, even from
within their box.

“Look, there are the English!” Gabrielle was really good at spotting these things, it
seemed, because true to her word, a team garbed in mostly white shot out from the
opposite side of the stadium that the Bulgarians arrived from. Unlike the Bulgarians, the
English flew in a straight line, lead by their captain, around the pitch before one of their
ranks broke off and flew to the dead centre of the ground. It was fairly easy to see who
said person was, especially when the entire stadium was chanting that player’s name.

Amidst the chant of ‘Potter, Potter, Potter’, Archie watched as Harry shot up like a bat out
of hell into the night sky holding something large under his arm. When they couldn’t see
him anymore, several people started murmuring with each other wondering what was
going on. Suddenly, a huge fireworks display lit up the night sky that took the shape of
Harry Potter himself, standing in front of an English national flag with his arms crossed
and his hair blowing in the fake wind.

The crowd gave their approval with thunderous cheers, but it seemed he wasn’t done
yet, because from the night sky, a huge fireball seemed to be descending like a meteor at
a rapid pace towards the centre of the pitch, earning several shrieks and cheers alike.

Just when the fireball was about to make contact with the ground, the fire was dispersed
in a grand display of magical prowess and revealed Harry Potter, lounging lazily on his
broom with his hands behind his head and his feet crossed as he circled the pitch one last
time before returning to his teammates.

“Merlin that was awesome,” Archie breathed wondrously amidst Gabrielle’s cheers.
Everyone had to agree with him.

“Pfft,” Lucile scoffed in a very unladylike manner “what a show off.”

Remus chuckled “Normally I’d agree, but Harry told me something about it being a part of
his contract to do some showmanship like before every game – it keeps the crowds
coming apparently.”

Both teams were in position and ready to begin, the crowd’s cheering and chanting
seemed to have reached its apex when suddenly they were hushed as the Minister for
Magic approached the podium on the top box.

Using a sonorous charm to amplify his voice, he said “Welcome, to each and every one of
you, to the one hundred and thirty fourth Quidditch World cup!” he waited for the cheers
to die down before continuing “The first World cup was hosted at this very moor exactly
five hundred and thirty six years ago, and now, it has returned, and what a tournament
for it to return in!” the crowd seemed to appreciate what he was saying as they cheered
loudly again “Now, without further ado, let the match . . . “ the crowd seemed to all take
an intake of breath at the same time “BEGIN!”

With a flourish of his wand, the balls were all released to the players as the game started
amidst thunderous approval from the crowd. Two hundred thousand screaming fans was
certainly a sight to behold, in Archie’s opinion; it was all just so surreal.

“Potter makes a grab for the Quaffle first – AND HE’S OFF!” the announcer said, earning
roars of approval form the English fans “Potter, to Cole, Cole passes it to Young –
intercepted by Ivanova!”

The Bulgarian fans cheered wildly while the English fans booed.

“Ivanova to Levski, back to Ivanova who passes it long to Dimitrov – intercepted by Potter!”

The English fans went wild while the Bulgarian fans grumbled.

“Potter with a long, downfield pass, catching a wide open Young, young catches, Young
shoots, YOUNG SCORES! Zograf didn’t stand a chance and was caught daydreaming!”

The English fans erupted in cheers and Gabrielle bounced up and down on Archie’s lap excited

“Yes! Go England!” Gabrielle cheered in French while standing up on Archie, turning

around and tackling him in a hug.

Archie let out a yelp of pain, which was picked up by Lestat “Can you get me a pillow?”
the boy wheezed through his pain.

Lestat, taking another look at the boy seated beside him almost broke down laughing
when he realized the little girl, in her excitement, stomped right on Archie’s balls. The girl
was confused at first why Archie placed a pillow on his lap, but shrugged it off in the end;
it was more comfortable like this anyway.

Cedric and Sirius had their omniculars glued to their faces as they watched the game in
awe. It was one thing to listen to the high level games on the radio, but being able to see
these players play really served to humble you. The speed at which they flew, the quality
of their passing and the power of their shots was like nothing he’d ever seen.

“Cole grabs the Quaffle as the three English chasers pile on top of each other – what are
they doing, where did the Quaffle go?!” Indeed, all three players separated from each
other, each pretending to be holding a Quaffle hidden under their arm as they advanced
on the goal. The Beaters weren’t sure who to send the Bludgers at, so they just
naturally assumed Harry had it.

Unfortunately for them, they were expecting for them to shoot Bludgers at Harry, well, at
least Harry was, because he led them straight to Zograf, the Bulgarian keeper, forcing
the man to dodge them less he be smashed into bits. Unfortunately for Bulgaria, this left
the goal wide open for Young to easily slot the Quaffle through the hoop and score
England’s second.

“Dimitrov grabs the Quaffle, passes it to Levski, Levski to Ivanova, Ivanova back to
Levski, Levski shoots, SAVE by James,” Archie watched with rapt attention, slowing down
the play when applicable with his omniculars, they were moving so fast sometimes that it
was hard to follow the play “James passes it long to Cole, Cole advances towards the
goal, dodges a Bludger, he’s forced to pass it backwards less he get destroyed by the
Bulgarian beaters. Potter receives, passes it to Young, he’s motioning to an empty spot
fifty yards out from the goal, is he going to do what I think he’s doing?!”

Archie watched, entranced, as Harry sped to an empty spot on the park as Young sent a
pass at him backwards at a blistering pace. Harry used his broom like spring board and
jumped high into the air; using the Quaffle’s speed against it he smashed the ball with his
foot towards the goal. Archie couldn’t believe the speed at which it travelled towards the
goal, Zograf got a finger to it, but the Quaffle barely changed course as it zoomed
through the left hoop, and in for another goal!

“What an amazing goal!” the commentator cheered “England, thirty, Bulgaria, zero.”

The game continued on in a very similar fashion, with the English chasers dominating the
field play with Krum having to forgo his seeker duties to make sure the game wasn’t blown
out of the water. At seventy to zero though, Krum finally saw the snitch.

“It looks like Krum’s seen the Snitch,” the announcer shouts excitedly “look at him dive,
Shearer can barely keep up.”

Archie’s eyes widened when he saw Harry give off the Quaffle to his teammate and chase
after Krum. What was he doing?!
Krum sped faster and faster towards the Snitch with Shearer not far behind, hot on his
tail. Just as Krum looked to be able to slam into the ground though, he pulled up last
second, showing to the cheering crowd that he had performed a Wronski Feint! He had
not seen the snitch at all!

Shearer looked doomed to slam into the ground, having fallen victim to Krum’s famous
move. As he was about to crash into the ground at over 60 miles an hour, Harry zoomed
passed and plucked him off his broom before he could make contact and injure himself!

“What a save by Potter!” the announcer cheered “Shearer will be thanking him in the
morning for that one, Krum doesn’t look too happy though!”

An hour and fifty minutes passed before the next sighting of the Snitch occurred with the
score at one thirty to ten. It was a mixture of Harry’s brilliance and the Killer Harpies that
halted Krum in his pursuit of the ever-elusive golden Snitch.

“This is amazing,” Sirius breathed in wonder “I never imagined an international Quidditch

game could be so intense.”

“England will lose unless they can get a one hundred and sixty point lead soon,” Lestat
observed “they cannot hold off forever, eventually, Krum will catch the snitch no matter
what Harry does.”

“And if Harry devotes too much of his time trying to stop Krum, they won’t be able to get
that lead,” Antonio pointed out “Quidditch has definitely changed from what I remember it
to be, back then it was all about the seekers, it’s more of a team game now.”

“Harry says that all the time,” Tonks chuckled “he thinks it’s stupid for any team to rely on
one player and forgo the other positions; he thinks they’re all equally as important.”

“This game would be the ultimate test to that theory,” Sirius pointed out “despite Harry’s
skill, England is still a well-rounded team, whereas Bulgaria is all about Krum - they won all
of their matches leading up to this game by catching the Snitch within an hour or less. As
you can see, the rest of the team aren’t that good.”

It was true too; the English Chasers were flying circles around the Bulgarian players
when they weren’t blocking Krum.

“What are the Bulgarians doing?” Cedric asked as he tried to get a closer look with his
omniculars.

“It looks like they’re on the defensive,” Remus theorized.

“They’re not on the defensive,” Archie spoke up “they’re going for the win. They’re corpse
blocking the hoops making it almost impossible for England to score no matter how good
they are. With three chasers, two beaters and a keeper corpse guarding the ring, Krum
can fly around free and eventually catch the Snitch, they’d win too, England’s only up by
one fifty.”

“Wouldn’t that make it a draw?” Stephanie asked, not really following what was going on.

“No, in the World Cup final, if the scores are a tie, the team who caught the Snitch wins
the game,” Sirius lectured “and if the English can’t focus on Krum either, because no
matter how well they block him off, he’ll eventually catch the Snitch, they need to score
and they need to score fast.”

Indeed, the Bulgarians were literally using their bodies to block all shots from the English
chasers. Even trying to knock them out of the way first with their Beaters didn’t seem to
be working, because the Bulgarian Beaters would have their team mate’s back.

“Hey, did you see that?” Archie yelled to the room “Harry just did something!”

“Unless ‘e put a bludgeoning curse on zat Bludger, I cannot see ‘ow it will matter,” Fleur
said dryly, but Archie wasn’t fazed.

“It’s Shearer, he’s motioning to Shearer!” Archie jumped from his seat and yelled
excitedly. Almost simultaneously, everyone turned their omniculars to the veteran
English Seeker to see him slowly, but surely making his way around behind the Bulgarian
defence, trying to make it look like he’s searching for the Snitch, but his eyes were on
Harry and no one else.

“What could he possibly be planning?” Cedric frowned, but his question was soon
answered when Harry gave the ball to Cole and flew over to the left side of their hoops,
he wanted his captain to prop the ball up for him, that could only mean one thing, he was
going for the shot!

“Potter seems to be setting up his famous sphere shot ladies and gentleman,” the
announcer called excitedly “but will it be enough to pierce Bulgarian’s iron tight defensive wall?

With blistering speed, Cole sent a pass a few meters above Harry’s broom in preparation
for the shot. Harry, once again, used his broom as a springboard and launched into the
air, his back facing the goal.

Harry performed an aerial scissor kick putting all his power into the shot before his foot
made contact with the Quaffle. After he made contact, Harry dropped down and caught
his broom with one hand; he hung there and watched, hoping his plan would work.

“The shot’s too high!” the announcer cried in shock – Harry Potter never misses! “to be
safe though, the Bulgarian defence is rising to intercept the shot, these folks aren’t willing
to – SWEET MERLIN! SHEARER ENTERED A STEEP DIVE RIGHT ABOVE THE BULGARIA
GOAL!” the announcer shouted excitedly as the veteran zoomed in front of the Bulgarian
defence to snatch the Quaffle right out from in front of them; the aged Seeker continued
his dive to right below the Bulgarian defensive wall before putting forward a not so
powerful yet extremely accurate shot. The Bulgarian defence was powerless to stop it as
the Quaffle passed from right underneath them and went straight through the middle hoop.

“SHEARER SCORES!” the announcer cheered merrily “ENGLAND IS UP BY ONE HUNDRED

AND SIXTY POINTS!”

If Archie thought the cheer of the crowd so far was deafening, he was most definitely
not prepared for what assaulted his ears that second. The large glass window of their
box almost shattered from the vicious assault from the crowd’s cheering, though they
weren’t any better within. Gabrielle was dancing on his lap, Remus, Tonks and the Zabinis
minus Stephanie were laughing and cheering merrily, Sirius and Cedric were hugging each
other and dancing a jig, Fleur, Stephanie and Jacques were smiling while watching
everyone’s reactions and the Vampire duo were merely smirking victoriously.

“Look, Krum’s going to end it, he’s almost got the Snitch!”
“What’s zee fool think he is doing?” Fleur asked with a frown “Does he not know that if he
catches zee Snitch his team will lose?”

“It’s not about that,” Archie answered the beautiful girl “he wants to end the game on his
own terms, he knows that if he lets the game last longer, England will only get further
ahead. This way, at least they lose with a reasonable score.”

“AND KRUM’S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! IT’S ALL OVER! ENGLAND WINS, ONE SEVENTY T
ONE SIXTY!”

Archie looked on the pitch in interest as Harry saluted Krum from the opposite end of the
field. The Bulgarian seeker grudgingly nodded in respect while the English team, sans
Harry, began to celebrate.

“That was the greatest game ever,” Sirius sighed “and to think, Harry Potter is my godson.”

“Yes, we heard you the first time Sirius,” Archie grumbled irritably.

“And the second through seven hundredth times also,” Tonks added with a giggle.

“I don’t think you all appreciate how much action I’ll get just from that little fact,” he
sighed dreamily as Cedric’s eyes lit up.

“Hey, I’m Harry Potter’s friend!” he shouted, as if he just discovered the meaning of life.

“Yeah you’re Harry Potter’s friend,” Sirius laughed evilly “he bought you your Firebolt!”

“He bought me my Firebolt!” Cedric agreed with a grin as the two linked their arms
together by the elbows and danced a merry jig.

“Yes, zat is sure to win all zee girls,” Fleur remarked dryly “’Arry Potter technically owns
my broomstick, very smooth.”

The two celebrating gigolos stopped their dance and glared at the French witch good naturedly

“Where’s Stephanie?” Archie asked with a frown “it’s not exactly safe to be outside all on
her own right now with all the drunkards partying.”

Fleur shrugged “She went for a walk with Jacques,” she looked to her watch “zey left ‘alf
an hour ago.”

“Oh,” he looked just as depressed as he sounded, which caused the people to lapse into
an awkward silence until an explosion caused the floor to rumble.

“It sounds like the English are getting their party on,” Cedric attempted to joke, but Sirius
looked anything but amused as Remus walked through the door looking pale.

“That wasn’t the English,” Sirius mumbled distractedly “what’s going on Moony?”

“Death Eaters, they’re attacking the camp sites,” he looked around to the shocked faces
in the room “and werewolves, they’ve found a way to force their transformation without
there being a full moon, hurry up and pack, we need to leave now.”
“Stephanie!” Archie rocketed up from his seat and rushed straight out the door, ignoring
the shouts of protest.

The second he got outside, he spotted Jacques running towards the tent looking like a
scared little child; Stephanie wasn’t with him.

“Jacques, where is Stephanie?!” he yelled over the chaos that was caused by the scared
people running around trying to find their loved ones. The pale boy pointed in the
direction he was running from, too scared to speak. Archie’s stomach turned to ice when
he heard the howl of a werewolf coming from the direction the boy pointed from.

“YOU LEFT HER YOU MOTHERFUCKER?!” he howled in rage “IF I MAKE IT BACK HERE
ALIVE, I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” he shouted as he punched the French boy in the mouth,
knocking out three of his teeth before the boy passed out on the ground.

“Ringo!” Archie called loudly to the night air, as he made his way in the direction Jacques
pointed earlier. With a small pop, his ‘employee’ appeared right beside him with a worried
frown on his face, before he could speak though, Archie was already barking orders at him.

“Ringo, I need you to find Harry, tell him that Death Eaters and Werewolves are
attacking the camps and that Stephanie is in trouble, do it quick!”

Without a word of protest, the terrified House elf disappeared with another pop, off to
fetch Harry. Archie just hoped it wasn’t too late as he made his way deeper into the
forest and in the direction Jacques pointed him to.

“Point me Stephanie Zabini,” Archie laid his wand on his palm as it spun around like the pin
of a compass before landing on one direction. He run as fast as he could, hoping against
hope that Stephanie was okay.

Harry Potter sighed appreciatively as the warm water from the showerhead splashed
against his face and soothed his aching muscles. He thought that ridiculous reward
ceremony would never end, though he did receive the Golden Quaffle award for scoring
the most goals in the tournament, as well as a World Cup championship ring, it was made
of white gold and diamonds and looked rather badass, in his opinion. It was most likely
originally made of silver, but they probably changed it knowing that his guardian was a
werewolf.

His teammates had all already left for Three-sixty, the new club run by Lucile and owned
by Lestat and he. Lucile told him that he was more than welcome to come, age restrictions
or not, but Harry had other ideas, like resting at home in the comfort of his own room
doing some research by the fire.

Yes, a nice relaxing evening was just what the doctor ordered.

With a pop, the silence of the empty changing rooms was disturbed by the arrival of
Ringo, one of the elves he had purchased for Archie to help run his business.

Harry let his head smack against the tiled wall of the shower; this was not his fucking day
at all. Quickly getting dressed as the House elf informed him of what exactly was going
on, he left the changing rooms and apparated away to the campgrounds with a near
silent pop, hoping to have the honour of killing Archie himself before someone beat him to it.
Stephanie was on the verge of hysterics. Not only did her boyfriend leave her to this
pack of werewolves, but she had to watch as they viciously and systematically tore
apart any person that came in their path.

It was brutal to say the least.

The wolf like creatures only shared one real similarity with their canine cousins, and that
was their heads. Their heads were that of a wolf, but their bodies were more human like
than a wolf’s. They had large muscle filled torsos with lanky yet powerful looking limbs that
let them move extremely quickly and leap very high.

She had been avoiding three of them for the past ten minutes as they meticulously
hunted her down. If she didn’t know any better, she would she would guess that they
enjoyed hunting her down and smelling her fear.

Stephanie couldn’t believe that someone as beautiful and kind as Archie’s mother was one
of these creatures.

Right now, she had covered herself in mud and branches, hoping to throw off their
senses and get them to run right past her. It was a good idea in theory, but she didn’t
account for the fact that their eyesight was just as good as their senses of hearing and smell.

Quicker than she could react to, a single werewolf burst out of the dark bush not ten
meters away from her and charged right at her, teeth bared and claws ready to strike.

She futilely threw her arms up to cover her face in preparation for the attacks, letting a
few silent tears escape her eyes as she waited for the end. She saw how these beasts
treated their prey, she would be joining the countless mutilated bodies that littered the
campgrounds in just a few moments – she was sure of it . . .

“STEPHANIE!”

The familiar voice shouting her name to her left caught her attention, like a cannonball,
something or someone slammed into her side, saving her from the werewolf’s strike and
taking her out of harm’s way.

When the stars finally cleared from her vision, she saw shocked to see a cringing Archie
leaning over her, a hand on each side of her head with blood seeping through his white t-shirt.

“Archie,” she exclaimed softly yet with immense relief “you came . . . I thought you hated me.”

Archie smiled, and Stephanie was shocked to see the pained look on his features “Hate
you Stephanie?” he chuckled at the absurdity of the idea “you know how I feel about you,
you always have.”

Without another word, Archie stood up from his position over Stephanie and turned away
from her causing her to let out a shocked gasp.

Archie’s back was drenched in blood and his t-shirt was almost ripped completely to
shreds. Through the damaged material, she could see something that looked like a bite
mark on his shoulder and three large and vicious looking scars travelling diagonally across
his back. The werewolf had gotten him!
“I usually don’t like hurting people,” Archie spoke to the three werewolves circling him, “I
try to avoid it at all costs actually, especially werewolves.”

Stephanie watched as Archie took out two vials from his pocket and downed them quickly,
the effects were instantly noticeable. The blood that was pooling out of his wounds
stopping flowing, almost instantly, it must have been a very advanced temporary wound
sealing potion, especially if it was able to seal werewolf bite wounds. She also noticed,
though it was ever so subtle, that Archie’s lithe muscles seemed to tense and become
more defined, as if they were growing stronger extremely quickly.

“But no matter what,” Archie spoke up once again before shouting “I WON’T LET YOU
HURT HER!”

Stephanie’s eyes almost popped out of her skull when she saw Archie move at speeds
that were practically impossible for any human to achieve. She then had to force herself
to stop gaping at him when one of his punches not only connected with the werewolf on
the left, but it sent it spiralling into a tree and dazing it temporarily.

The two active werewolves pounced on him as a single unit, slashing at him on one side
while biting at him on the other. Archie moved with a speed that was almost impossible to
believe while his strikes seemed to do more damage than humanly possible.

Archie locked both his hands with one of the werewolf’s, leaving him wide open to attack
from the other. Before the second werewolf was able to attack the defenceless Archie
though, Archie kicked it in the chest with his free leg, sending it sprawling back several feet.

Stephanie noticed that Archie, at first, seemed to be winning the battle of strength with
the werewolf, but to her horror, slowly, the werewolf seemed to be overpowering him.

“Stephanie,” he cried urgently “why are you still here, you need to run before my
Strength and Agility Elixirs run out!”

“I’m not leaving you Archie, shut up!” she cried as she realized the futility of the situation.

“Dammit!” Archie groaned with a colossal effort as the werewolf leaned closer to him, its
opened mouth dripping with copious amounts of its saliva, as he drew closer and closer
while steadily overpowering him.

If his situation wasn’t bad enough, three more werewolves appeared out of the
shrubbery and started approaching them menacingly while the other two gained their bearings.

“STEPHANIE!” Archie hollered at her “YOU NEED TO RUN, NOW!”

“I told you I’m not leaving you, you idiot!” she shakily took her wand out of its holster and
levelled it at the closest werewolf, knowing how futile it was at the beginning. Werewolf
hide was notoriously spell resistant, well, especially to anything she could conjure up anyway.

Suddenly, there was black flash as something zipped right in front of Archie and the next
thing he knew, the Werewolf he was wrestling with had itsarms cut off at the elbows.

“You are both fucking useless,” Harry growled as he supported Archie on his shoulder
briefly before tossing him at Stephanie, hoping she was coherent enough to tend to his wounds
Harry held the Flambert in a loose grip in his right hand as the werewolf who had its arms
recently severed howled in pain. Its friends, however, were more than happy to advance
on him, slowly getting ready to flank him before they struck.

Harry frowned at the creatures surrounding him. On his way here, he had encountered
several mutilated bodies and was hoping against hope that there weren’t many more to
be found in the forest. Good news was there wasn’t, the bad news was that these
werewolves were probably the ones responsible – well, it was bad news for them at least.

Some of those bodies were those of young children, he had nearly lost the contents of
his stomach at the sight of them, and there wasn’t much that affected him.

“You pieces of shit just couldn’t contain yourselves,” he said viciously with a twirl and a
swing as he decapitated the armless werewolf. Flambert moved through the cartilage
and enhanced hide like a hot knife through butter.

One of the other werewolves lunged at him as Harry hopped back one step to avoid the
strike before grabbing its right forearm and unleashing a series of viciously quick strikes at
its torso before kicking it in the chest and sending it sprawling to the forest floor, dead.

“I probably would have felt sympathetic towards you bastards if it weren’t for the fact
that I can tell you’re in control of your actions,” he growled as he stepped backwards
again to avoid two more swipes from the enraged beasts before he lunged forwards and
severed the legs of one of the werewolves, he quickly ended his suffering with a stab to
the eye before turning to the second werewolf that just lunged at him and struck it three
times – once with a swipe across its throat, again with an opposite swipe across its chest
and finally a stab right in its mouth.

Harry eyed the last two werewolves with disgust while Archie and Stephanie looked on
with grim satisfaction “It’s your eyes, you see,” he advanced on them as the pitiful beasts
retreated a few steps in fright, it was clear who the stronger being was “they are not
amber, you have used the wolfsbane potion to remain in control after someone forced
your transformation, probably that filth Greyback.”

He could tell that the beasts wanted to flee, but he wouldn’t let them, not after what they
did to those poor people. Rushing at the werewolf on the right, he performed a move
that was similar to a football slide tackle and sweeped its legs out from beneath it before
ramming the tip of his blade into the bottom of its jaw, killing it instantly.

He then turned to the last werewolf before advancing on it menacingly “Luckily for me it
actually isn’t a full moon,” he speed up as he approached the quivering beast mercilessly
“because then, you might actually be a challenge!”

The second he was in the beast’s range, he stomped his foot on the ground and spun,
performing an upwards twirl slash that sliced open its torso. Before it could die, however,
he flicked his wrist and brought the sharp edge of his blade down on its skull, cleaving its
head in two.

Harry turned around calmly as Stephanie was almost in hysterics. One would think that it
was because of what he had just done, how he had just executed six perfectly sentient
beings, but that wasn’t the case at all.

Archie seemed to be going into shock. This couldn’t be good; there was no way Harry
would let his friend die from some weak ass bite or scratch wound – if anyone was going
to take the responsibility for killing Archie, it was definitely going to be him!

To make matters worse, a beautiful blonde witch was standing on the other side of the
clearing looking almost ready to throw up at the carnage that lay before her.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Harry greeted dryly, his clothes looking like they'd been dyed
red from the copious amount of blood squirting out of the werewolves’ wounds “the
name’s Harry Potter.”

Author's Note:

This is now the Betad version, feel free to post grammatical errors in your reviews.

Pics of Harry and Lucile's swords are still in my profile.

Chapter: 23
Chapter 24: Like Mother like Son

Despite the cowardly attack on the campgrounds following the closing of the Quidditch
World Cup tournament, the English found more than enough time to celebrate their
country’s dominance on the international stage.

Magical towns and alleys alike were alive with constant partying and celebrations in
general. Pubs were constantly swamped with patrons drinking and celebrating with
friends, nightclubs were open and full of life until the extreme hours of the morning and
the streets were filled with merry and ecstatic fans, still basking in the afterglow of victory.

There was one place in London, however, that you would definitely not find any
celebrating or merry well wishing; ironically enough, that place housed the main reason
for the country’s joy.

That place was Harry Potter’s bedroom.

The reason?

It was lying on Harry’s bed, right now, looking deathly pale and drenched in sweat. Its
name was Archades Montague and he’d been in that condition ever since passing out and
going into shock after the werewolf attack.

“Is ‘e going to be okay?” Harry’s didn’t answer the voice speaking to him at first,
continuing to cast a few diagnostic charms on the boy after force-feeding him some
potions before speaking.

“What did you say your name was again?” Harry asked curiously, the girl sniffed in his
direction disdainfully.

“I did not say.”

“I know that,” Harry said irritably “that was my polite way of asking what your name was.”

The girl frowned, seemingly thinking whether she should answer or not, before finally
doing so “I am Fleur Delacour, I am a friend of Stephanie’s, and recently, Archie’s.”

“Delacour, Delacour, Delacour,” Harry repeated thoughtfully, trying to remember where

he had heard that name before “any relation to Francine Delacour?”

The girl smirked at him “She is my grandmamma,” she stated proudly “you ‘ave ‘eard of ‘er?”

“I’ve met her, actually,” Harry grinned “she’s quite beautiful, despite her age – terrible at
poker though.”

Fleur frowned at the veiled insult; her grandmother had indeed told her of how he had
not only bested her in a game of Poker at the age of fourteen, but had proceeded to win
the game as well; an impressive feat, to say the least.
“She also told me zat you were not present at zee game in Switzerland,” Fleur smirked
“did you not make zee cut, perhaps?”

Harry only rose a wary eyebrow at her “She told you that, did she?” Harry shook his head
as he performed more diagnostic charms on his friend “I’m surprised she was given an
invitation to attend, perhaps she was someone’s date rather than a player this time,” he
ignored Fleur’s glare “imagine my surprise when my application to that game was denied
by the head of the Switzerland branch of Gringotts himself, they regretfully informed me
that I was too young to play – funny how, once they knew I could clean them out, my
age was suddenly an issue that needed to be addressed.”

Fleur didn’t know what to say to that, the Goblins were a species of people that would
gladly exploit a fourteen year old, especially a rich one, if they thought it possible. It
wasn’t too surprising that he didn’t merit an invitation to the richer game given his success
in the smaller one.

“I did not peg you for zee type to be proficient in medical diagnostics,” Fleur pointed out,
the hostility in her voice gone and replaced with curiosity.

“You would be correct to assume that then, because I’m not,” he motioned towards the
door as he continued to cast charms and small wards around the bed “we sometimes get
victims of werewolf attacks on our doorstep, Remus saw fit to teach me how to deal with it
if he’s indisposed for whatever reason,” he then motioned outside “that ruckus going on
outside is one of those reasons.”

The sound was barely audible at best, but that was saying something considering Harry
had silencing wards placed strategically around his bedroom.

“What is it that you are doing exactly?” Harry was amused by the snobbish girl’s curiosity,
her little sister though; he was not so amused by.

“Making sure he doesn’t die before the full moon,” Harry answered with brutal honesty.

“Can you explain?” she had this cute frown on her face “I mean, zee reason why, I do
not understand, we do not have werewolves in France, well, not many.”

Harry snorted, of course they didn’t, they were too scared that Lestat would off them –
no matter how ridiculous that assumption was.

“Interested in becoming a medi-witch then?” that was an interesting bit of information, he

hadn’t pegged the girl to be the type interested in healing others.

“Perhaps,” she surveyed the potions beside Harry’s bed and the liquid inside the drip
attached to the comatose boy’s arm.

“Interesting,” Harry was silent for a few moments, checking Archie’s pulse one last time
before leaving him to rest “you do realize that if we were able to use muggle medical
procedures, this would be infinitely easier,” Harry informed the perplexed girl “but such
equipment is rather expensive and hard to come by, especially on such short notice.”

“I do not understand,” she was frowning again, like he had just spoken some foreign language.

“There’s not much to understand,” Harry shrugged “he’s suffering from a dangerous fever,
it’s his body’s natural reaction to the infection currently attacking him, the more powerful
the infection, the more powerful the fever.”

“Zee body produces this ‘fever’ so zat it can fight off an infection it cannot destroy?” she
asked anxiously with a worried look over at Archie’s prone form “what happens if ‘is body
temperature keeps rising despite not being able to destroy it?”

“He’ll die,” Harry said in such a blasé manner that Fleur looked to him in shock.

“’Ow can you say such a thing and be so calm about it?” she asked scathingly “does ‘is
friendship mean nothing to you?”

Unlike his unconscious friend, Harry wasn’t so quick to anger “I can say such a thing
because it’s the truth,” Harry shook his head as he used a cool cloth to wipe the sweat
off Archie’s face “you want me to lie to you so you’ll feel better? I was hoping you
weren’t one of those attractive idiotic bimbos that are so popular these days.”

“Zat is not what I meant!” her face was flushed as she spoke, Harry wasn’t sure whether
it was because of the compliment about her looks or because she was angry “Just
because I care about the wellbeing of others, does not mean I’m an ‘idiotic bimbo’” she
said hotly.

“What does truthfully telling someone a patient’s symptoms have anything to do with
caring for their well-being?”

“Nothing!” she replied hotly “but I thought ‘e was your friend, ‘e spoke so ‘ighly of you –
zee great ‘Arry Potter,” she mimicked sarcastically “you do not seem perturbed by his
condition in the slightest!”

“Well,” he began “that may have something to do with the fact that I’m not.”

Fleur was shocked speechless by the admission.

Harry almost groaned in annoyance when he saw the girl ready to launch into a full-blown
rant, didn’t she notice there was an unconscious boy and a sleeping girl in the room.

“What need is there to be concerned when I know there’s no need to be?” he asked calmly.

“Zat boy saved my best friend’s life, I am making sure ‘e is receiving zee best treatment
possible.”

“You know what?” he asked her “you’re absolutely right, go on, you better take him to a
hospital,” Harry motioned to Archie’s prone form “take him, a victim of a werewolf attack
who is most likely going to turn, to a magical hospital,” Harry said dispassionately “let’s
see how long he lasts past the front door before someone kills him in his sleep. Prejudice is
kind of high right now, if you hadn’t noticed; did you forget about what happened at the
World Cup?”

“’Ow could I forget,” she said scathingly “you butchered those werewolves as if zey were
cattle, you did not even give zem a chance to surrender when you were clearly the
advantageous one.”

“I know, the guilt is eating me up on the inside,” Harry replied to her sarcastically, “you
have no idea how hard it was to clean that blood of the blade.”
“Is zat all you can do? Make jokes at a time like this?” Fleur glared “You feel nothing for
killing those people? Not even any remorse?”

“I’m a regular mass-murderer,” he agreed “I need to be locked away before I kill more
rabid werewolves on a child mutilating spree. I think it has something to do with my
dysfunctional childhood.”

“They deserved justice,” Fleur said angrily, getting fed up with his smart-ass remarks,
“you are no better than zem if you lower yourself to their level!”

“Do you think I feel good about killing those werewolves? It’s eating me up inside! I can’t
even sleep without seeing their horrified faces in my dreams!” Fleur was surprised at his
sudden forwardness and admission of weakness.

“Really?”

“No,” he deadpanned “not really,” he rolled his eyes before ushering her out of his room,
leaving Stephanie and Archie to rest in peace.

“You insufferable, insensitive, heartless prick!” Fleur cursed at him in French “I can’t
believe Stephanie spoke so highly of you!”

“Yeah, neither can I to be honest,” Harry grinned at her stupefied expression “You know,
keep cursing in French, it’s kind of sexy.”

Fleur tried to reign in her temper, it wouldn’t do for her to get angry at this prick, bad
things happened to people when she got angry.

“What did you mean earlier when you said zat Archie could not die before zee full moon?”
she remembered he mentioned something like that earlier in their conversation.

Harry entered his study, and when Fleur tried to follow, she slammed head first into what
she felt was a solid wall, but there was nothing there but air after she opened the door!

Before she could question the strange occurrence, Harry came back out of his study
dragging a portable blackboard covered in complicated arithmetic equations. Fleur
watched with a dumfounded expression as he carted it into his bedroom.

“Werewolves aren’t technically ‘turned’ until their first transformation,” Harry lectured
“and that doesn’t happen unless there’s a full moon.”

“So you need to keep ‘im alive until ‘e transforms?” she clarified “it doesn’t sound too difficult.”

“Why would monitoring an escalating fever, tending to wounds that don’t want to close
and making sure someone doesn’t suffer brain damage from seizures be hard to manage?”

Fleur didn’t quite know what to say to that, mainly because most of the terms he was
using were muggle ones and didn’t quite make sense to her – it sounded bad though.

“When is zee next full moon?”

“Three days time,” Harry answered while dragging the blackboard into his bedroom and
propping it beside the bed.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asked with a frown. Harry ignored her for the most
part, choosing to work on the equations instead.

“I may not be a distinction student,” Fleur frowned “but I am quite proficient in

Arithmancy, and I ‘ave no idea what zose equations means.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” Harry asked her without turning to her, opting
to continue scribbling notes and equations on the board.

Fleur frowned, but any further questioning was interrupted when the sound of the door
to Harry’s room opening. Not a moment later, Sirius, Cedric and Tonks entered his room
with grim faces.

“Sirius, Cedric, Nymphadora, let yourselves in,” Harry deadpanned as the three people in
questions looked at the boy who had addressed them without turning to them in shock.

“Don’t call me that name!” Tonks shrieked angrily, before clamping her hands on her
mouth when she realized the resting people in the room.

“How does he do that?” Sirius whispered to Fleur and Cedric, who just shrugged.

Unfortunately, all the commotion stirred Stephanie from her sleep. The girl rubbed her
red-rimmed eyes groggily before looking to everyone in the room and asking, “What’s
everyone doing in here?” she then saw what Harry was doing “and what’s with the blackboard?

“Checking on Archades, no doubt,” Harry answered without turning to face them

“nothing’s changed, I’m afraid.”

“We figured that much,” Tonks spoke up after wiping Archie’s forehead with the cool cloth
“we just wanted to visit, see how you’re all holding up.”

“We’re all having a grand time,” Harry sarcastically answered “Fleur and I are great buddies.”

Fleur only sent him a dirty glare in response to his shenanigans. Sirius was looking at his
godson with pride.

“Settle down children,” Stephanie chided mockingly, however her joking demeanour
disappeared almost immediately when she noticed Archie’s condition “how is he?”

Harry sighed irritably, but he was thankful when Fleur answered for him.

“Zat buffoon says zat as long as Archie stays alive until zee full moon in three days time,
he should be okay,” she answered as Cedric looked on, bewildered.

“Buffoon?” he asked, surprised by the girl’s animosity towards Harry “something going
on between you two?”

“She’s referring to my animal magnetism,” Harry conspiratorially whispered to Cedric “she

can’t resist me.”

“I’m sorry, Potter, but ‘prick’ eez not my type,” she scathingly replied, much to Harry’s
amusement, and that of the others in the room.

“You can cut the sexual tension with a knife,” Tonks joked to Sirius, who joined her in
snickering at the unfortunate girl.

“Where eez Gabrielle?” Fleur questioned, her face flushed with anger.

“She’s sleeping, back in your room,” Cedric answered her “well, she was when Tonks last
checked on her, poor girl’s had a rough night.”

“I remember hearing someone crying last night in the chaos,” Stephanie said as she
remembered the last night’s events “that was her?”

Sirius nodded seriously, the look seeming uncharacteristic on his face “She saw a Death
Eater kill one of the muggle caretakers,” Sirius winced “it probably wasn’t the best thing a
girl her age to see.”

The room lapsed into an awkward silence, the only sounds audible being the fast
scratching of Harry’s chalk writing on the blackboard.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked his godson with confusion, not able to make any
sense of what he was writing at all.

Harry once again answered without turning to the speaker “I’m writing on a blackboard,”
Cedric sniggered at Sirius, who was rather annoyed at the stupid answer “the better
question is, why is everyone crowded in my room when you know nothing will change
with Archades until his transformation?”

Fleur didn’t need to be told twice “I am going back to my room,” she announced to
Stephanie “It will be good for me to be there when Gabrielle wakes.”

Stephanie sent one last pained look at Archie before deciding to join her friend, trusting
Harry’s judgement and skill in dealing with her saviour, and knowing she needed to sleep
anyway.

“Do you need anything?” Cedric asked Harry “I figure you’re not going to leave here
until we move Archie down into the cages.”

“I’d appreciate it if you brought me up my meals,” Harry turned to Cedric this time when
he spoke and nodded to him in thanks “also, keep any disturbances out, if possible,” he
motioned to the two who had just left “that girl annoys me.”

Sirius sniggered at his Godson “From the looks of things, you were the one who was
annoying her.”

“You looked to be enjoying it too,” Tonks pointed out rather pointlessly “I wasn’t lying
when I said you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

“Just because there is tension, does not mean that it has to be sexual,” Harry reminded
“why are you up here anyway? Remus’ penis is that-a-way.”

Sirius and Cedric collapsed in a fit of laughter as Tonks tried to curse Harry.
Unfortunately, he conveniently bent over to pick up his chalk pen that had dropped at
the perfect time.

“Could you perhaps not send curses around near a patient,” Harry deadpanned “not
very responsible of you, Nymphadora.”
Tonks gritted her teeth angrily “You do that on purpose, I know it.”

Harry shook his head in annoyance before rubbing off a section of the blackboard he had
just been writing on.

“What are his chances Harry?” Cedric asked sadly “be honest, please.”

Harry snorted “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Fleur, it doesn’t look good,” that seemed
to drain the energy right out of the room “but I’ve dealt with werewolf attack victims
before who have pulled through with worse injuries – much worse.”

“I suppose that’s reassuring,” Sirius sighed warily “let us know if anything changes?”

“I’ll notify one of the elves,” Harry finally relented “don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

“That boy is such a prick,” Fleur ranted to her friend as they made their way to their room
“completely insufferable, I just want to conjure up a fireball and shove it up his ass!”

Stephanie held in her laughter at her friend’s plight, “What did he do this time?”

“This time?” Fleur asked incredulously “He’s always been a prick then?”

“You could say that,” she recalled a particular memory where Harry read her mind “but he
usually has a good reason for being one.”

“What reason could there possibly be for him to be a prick tonight?” she fumed “he was
speaking down to me like I’m some kind of fool.”

Stephanie frowned in thought; she seemed to think over her answer before actually
speaking “I heard what you said about Harry,” Stephanie admitted, “While you thought I
was asleep. What you said, about him being a murderer, it wasn’t really called for.”

“I saw what he did,” Fleur defended herself “he slaughtered those werewolves like animals . . .”

“I know Fleur,” Stephanie admitted with a pained smile “I was there too remember?”

Fleur winced at her friend’s hurt tone, she hadn’t forgotten, but she was being a bit insensitive.

“I was there even before you all arrived,” her voice broke “they were monsters, they
slaughtered those people Fleur – all of them.”

Fleur let her friend speak, not really sure what to say to that.

“There was this one girl,” tears were streaking down her face as she recalled the
nightmarish event, “she was lost, looking for her parents. I was about to help her, I was
not ten feet from her, then,” she paused, trying to find the correct words to use “two
werewolves leapt out of a nearby bush, on opposite sides of her . . . they tore her apart
Fleur,” Stephanie met the blonde Veela’s eyes, they were full of remorse “literally Fleur,
I watched as two werewolves tore a girl into two pieces while she was lost, looking for
her parents – I was completely powerless . . .”

They had stopped walking, Fleur, despite her best efforts to stay strong for her friend,
also let a few tears escape her eyes.

“They were hunting me down like I was a dog, if it weren’t for Archie, I’d actually be very
much dead,” the way she said it, so factually and resolutely sent shivers down Fleur’s
spine “then if it weren’t for Harry, we’d both be dead. Harry . . .” she tried to find the
right words to describe him “he’s a dick, there’s no doubt about that, but I think that’s
what he wants people to think about him.”

“Why would someone want people to think ill of them?” the concept sounded completely
idiotic to her.

Stephanie just smiled at her, as if she were a child “So they won’t get close to him,” she
emphasised her point by tapping Fleur’s chest “if they don’t get close to him, he won’t
have to worry about losing them.”

“Does this tie in to what you told me about his mother?” Fleur frowned “you never
elaborated on that, in fact, you just said she was sick. Where is she?”

“It’s not my place to say,” Stephanie sighed “In fact, I don’t know much about it myself,
Archie does though – don’t expect him to tell you anything though,” Stephanie grinned at
her friend “if you want to find out more about him, and I know you do,” Fleur’s flush
almost made her laugh “you’ll have to ask him about it yourself.”

Stephanie walked on ahead to their room, leaving a thoughtful Fleur Delacour in her wake.

“He’s still a dick,” she mumbled under her breath before following her friend to check on
her sister.

Harry stood in front of the prison like cell, unmoving despite the fact that not two feet
from him lay a wolf-like beast that could easily, using its strength, rip him in two.

He had been standing there, watching over his friend, for the entire night of the full
moon. He had put him down in the cell before the moon was high in the sky, and before
anyone could notice the boy missing from his usual bed. He had watched as the first rays
of moonlight shone through the barred window onto his friend’s body. He had watched
when the changes first started to take affect. He had watched when his body disfigured
gruesomely to allow for the change. He had watched as, during the change, the large
scars on his back had closed up permanently, leaving nothing behind but an ugly scar as
a reminder that was even visible through the fur on the boy’s back. He had watched when
the transformation form man to beast was complete, sealing his fate forever as a
werewolf, though saving his life in the process. He continued to watch to this second,
making sure nothing bad were to happen to his health until the boy finally transformed
back and woke.

Harry had lost count of the time many hours ago, opting to just stand like a statue and
watch Archie like a hawk. Werewolves were known to be a little more feral than usual
during their first transformation, the pain and shock to the body usually being too much to
bear. Luckily, Archie had remained unconscious for the entire night, a blessing if he’d
ever heard of one. He’s had instances where werewolves had transformed for the first
time and nearly broken down the supposed ‘unbreakable’ iron bars separating the beast
from the rest of the inn. A werewolf’s strength during the full moon was truly something
to fear and respect.
Now though, as the first rays of the morning sun shone through the small window of the
cell, Harry allowed a small smile to grace his features. The boy had done it again – evade
death that is – and had done so in a remarkable fashion. He’d never tell Archie – because
it just wasn’t his style – but the way in which he heard the boy held off three werewolves
(strengthened by the full moon or not) with only the use of elixirs he had on his person
truly impressed him. The kid would literally do anything for Stephanie – stupid, if you
asked him, but no one was unfortunately.

Archie was now regressing back into his human form now, at first losing the extra body
mass the transformation brought on while the extra hair simply melted back into his skin.
Finally, his elongated jaw and limbs all retracted to their rightful lengths leaving only the
Archie he knew behind – well, aside from the fact that he was naked as the day he was
born. Harry was proud to say that he knew nothing about that side of Archie. Harry
looked away from him as he conjured a cloth to cover his unclothed body, he definitely
never would know that side either. That little French terror was enough to mentally scar
him for life; he didn’t need the added stress of seeing Archie naked to add to that. Fleur’s
little sister, after having a talk with Stephanie and Fleur together, had seemingly
forgotten about that night’s events and had returned to her regular cheery self.

Her regular, cheery, fan-girlish self.

On several occasions, he had nearly pulled out Flambert and rammed it down her throat
when she snuck up behind him during a meal and tried to style his shoulder-length hair.

On several other occasions, he almost had to be physically restrained when she’d literally
follow him around and ask him question after question without so much as a breath in between.

The next person, Gabrielle or not, to ask him the question ‘why’ again was going to get
punched in the fucking face, he didn’t care who it was, he’d do it. Dumbledore himself
could ask it, he didn’t care; the old man would just find himself in need for a good dental plan.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as a groan escaped Archie’s lips – he was waking.

“Good morning Archades,” Harry greeted dryly. Deciding that his friend was too slow in
waking up, and figuring that he’d had enough sleep during the past few days anyway,
Harry conjured a bucket of ice-cold water on top of Archie’s head.

“Ah, whatthefuck,” he screeched, his voice sounded rather rusty “I’m up, I’m up!”

Archie leaned backwards on his hands and observed his surroundings. He was naked, in a
prison cell, and his body was aching all over.

“Okay, whatever I’m in here for, I just want you to know that it’s Harry’s fault,” he spoke
to the room, not having seen Harry yet because the boy was standing in the shadows “I
didn’t want to do it, honest, but he said he’d touch me in inappropriate places if I didn’t, I
was forced to!”

“Shut up you idiot,” Harry snapped at the boy “how do you feel?”

“Harry?” he squinted in the direction the unusually loud voice came from before rubbing his
left shoulder “I don’t know, I’m really sore, my back is hurting like a bitch and what the
fuck is that smell?”

Harry expected as much. Harry spoke in a voice much quieter than he usually would, “That
smell is your own sweat, you haven’t showered in a few days so it’s to be expected,”
Harry smirked “and despite how many times she requested it, I thought it rather improper if
little Gabrielle gave you a sponge bath.”

“What are you talking about?” his friend groggily asked him “I had a shower yesterday
right before the game, and why the fuck does my back hurt so damn much?” he all but
hollered before remembering something and launching himself at the bars at a speed
much faster than usual “Harry’s how’s Stephanie? Is she okay?”

“In order,” Harry began “You have successfully been turned and are now a werewolf,
you had a shower four days ago, not yesterday, your back hurts so much because you
have three ridiculously large scars running across it and Stephanie is fine, if not back to
her annoying self.”

Harry wasn’t surprised when Archie just stared at him with a blank face for several
moments before finally speaking up again “I guess that’s why that smell is pissing my off
so much,” he mumbled tiredly “it’s to be expected I guess, did you look after me until the
full moon then?”

Harry didn’t answer, he just continued to stare at his friend with his arms folded over his
chest; Archie already knew the damn answer to that

“Heh, thanks mate,” he looked to his fiend’s hair weirdly, or rather, lack thereof “you cut
your hair?”

Harry scowled as he ran a hand through his inch long hair “Certain situations arose,
ensued and thus, were overcome.”

Archie stared at him in confusion for a few moments before he erupted into a fit of raspy
laughter “Gabby’s still here, isn’t she?”

The lack of response was all Archie needed to hear before lapsing into another fit of
giggles. After finally settling down, the ramifications of his new condition finally hit him.

“What am I going to do with school?” he asked with a frown, “the second it gets out that
I’m a werewolf, they’ll kick me out straight away.”

Harry shrugged “There’s less than ten people in the world that know you’ve been turned,”
he pointed out “none of which would care to turn you in anyway. As for full moons? I
know a place you can ride them out in near Hogsmeade.”

Archie nodded, scratching irritably at his left shoulder in the process “You know, it’s kind
of funny really,” he chuckled “I’ve been looking for a cure for lycanthropy for so long and
now, I’m one as well,” he shook his head “the thing is though, I don’t really care all that
much. This mind sound stupid to you, but I’m kind of happy I’m a werewolf, it means I
have something in common with my mother other than blood.”

Harry’s eyes softened very briefly, but Archie had no way ofspotting it with Harry still
standing in the shadows.

“Are you going to get me some clothes and let me out of here?” Archie asked sarcastically
“or are you just going to stare at my sexy body for the rest of the day?”

Harry unlocked the door to the cell and walked away “You already stole my favourite
coat, get your own damn clothes.”

Archie grinned and stood up, shakily at first, but he gained some more control as he
flexed his muscles – wait!

‘Muscles?!’ Archie mentally screamed as he looked over his body. Indeed, though he
wasn’t anything compared to Harry, his muscles seemed much more defined and ripped
than he last remembered – obviously, another side effect of the Lycanthropy.

Looking around warily, making sure no one was here to see him, Archie looked at ‘himself’
behind the large cloth covering his waist.

“Oh well,” he shrugged “I guess an extra few inches was wishful thinking.”

“Will you stop looking at your little dick and hurry the fuck up Archades?” Harry called
from the entrance to the dungeons.

“Hey, my dick is not little you cocksucker!”

A still sickly looking Archades walked down the stairs and met a scene he honestly wasn’t
expecting.

“Archie!” a voice called ecstatically as he was hit in the midsection with the force of a cannonba

“Stephanie?” he asked in surprise, the girl had literally tackled him into the wall and was
now sobbing into his shoulder; Merlin she smelt so good. If he didn’t want to reveal how
much her body pressed so tightly against his own was affecting him though, he had to act
quickly.

With a lazy grin, he gave her rear one strong grope, idly deciding that this was definitely
the best ass in the world.

Stephanie backed away from him slowly, a deadly look in her tear stained eyes as Archie
fought the urge to gulp nervously.

“You saved my life,” she said, as if reminding herself before his impending doom “so that
one was free, next time though, it won’t be my fault if my knee suddenly,” she planted
her knee mere millimetres below his crotch into the wall he was leaning on “slips.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted playfully at her “consider us even.”

“Monty, I knew you’d pull through!” Sirius cheered as he engulfed the boy in a manly hug.
Archie looked over Sirius’ shoulder to the rest of the inn were Remus, Tonks, Cedric,
Fleur and Gabrielle were all smiling at him happily.

“Hey you guys,” he grinned “sorry for worrying you, but did you really think you’d get rid
of me so easily?”

Cedric grinned and poked him fairly hard in the forehead “You were in good hands, I
wasn’t worried.”

Sirius barked out a laugh “He lies!” he pointed an accusing finger at the Hufflepuff “he
turned down three girls because he was so worried! My protégé never turns down girls
unless it’s important!”

“So I’m your protégé now?”

“We’ll discuss this later Diggle-dumpkins,” Sirius grinned at the irritated boy.

“Hey, where’s Jack?” Archie asked scathingly, getting a look of confusion from most of
the people in the room.

“You mean Jacques?” Sirius asked thoughtfully “hey, where did he go? He just kind of . . .
disappeared.”

“I made sure of that,” Stephanie grinned, it looked rather scary on her face actually “did
you honestly think he was going to be sticking around after he left me to die like that?”

“So you broke up with him?” Archie sounded perhaps a little too excited, though Stephanie
didn’t pick up on it. Archie started to wonder if she had selective hearing when it came to him.

“Yeah, he left pretty quickly after the attack anyway, saying nothing was worth all of
that,” she shook her head “boys can be such bastards . . .”

Remus quickly decided to change the topic “How do you feel Archie?” Remus asked kindly
as Tonks, Fleur and Gabrielle hugged him one after the other “I remember the first time is
painful.”

“Is that what Nymphadora told you?” Harry asked dryly as he too came down the stairs.

Sirius, Archie and Cedric all erupted into fits of laughter while Stephanie, and reluctantly,
Fleur tried to hide their grins. Remus was glaring at Harry while Tonks flushed in both
rage and embarrassment.

“Karma’s a bitch Harry, one of these days, she’s going to fuck you in the ass and you’re
not going to be able to do anything to stop it,” Tonks warned rather crudely yet sagely.

“Sorry Nymphadora, that’s not my thing . . . you on the other hand, well, let’s just say
that Remus is quite the fan of ‘kissing and telling’,” Harry trailed off, grinning at Remus,
whose eyes widened almost comically when he realized what Harry had done.

“You told him?!” Tonks shrieked at Remus, who had his head in his palm, trying to hide the
blush covering his features.

“No Dora,” Remus sighed warily “but you just did . . .”

Tonks’ face adopted a look of confusion before her eyes widened in shock as she pointed
an accusing finger at the smug looking Harry “You tricked me!”

“Wow,” Sirius exclaimed, after the rest of the group stopped laughing at the unfortunate
couple, “Ickle Dora is a freak.”

“What we do in the privacy of our own time is none of your business!” Tonks snapped at
Sirius angrily “so stop laughing!”

“I believe you just made it our business,” Cedric grinned playfully; he was forced to dive
behind Remus to avoid being hexed painfully though.
“This is all your fault!” Tonks pointed to Harry who was calmly ignoring her and reading a letter.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Harry frowned as he re-read the letter.

“Who’s it from?” Sirius asked curiously, allowing Gabrielle to play around with Archie while
Stephanie watched on happily.

“Lucile,” he frowned “looks like I’m going out tonight.”

“Oh, where?” Sirius asked excitedly “can I come?”

“Three sixty,” Harry deadpanned as he mentioned the club he co-owned with Lestat “and
I don’t think it’s very safe for you to show your face around there any time soon. You’re
lucky Lestat didn’t kill you on the spot for what you pulled.”

Sirius sighed dreamily “It was worth it,” he remembered briefly the good grope he got of
Lucile’s ample breast “they’re one hundred percent real, I told you to never question me
Cedric, you still have much to learn.”

Cedric grumbled irritably, remembering the twenty galleons he stupidly bet, and lost, over
that little stunt.

“Three sixty?” Fleur questioned, speaking to Harry directly for the first time in a few days
“As in zee club in France?”

“The very same,” he answered distractedly as he re-read the letter again.

“’Ow are you going to get in?” she asked with confusion “Three sixty ‘as just opened as is
zee most popular nightclub already in France,” she frowned “Quidditch star or not, zey will
not let you in so easily, especially if you do not ‘ave any female with you.”

Harry eyed her and spoke dryly “You’re concern is heart-warming, I’m fairly certain it
won’t be a problem though.”

“He co-owns the club with Lestat,” Sirius informed the shocked girl happily “they often
undertake business ventures together, that’s one of them.”

“Thank-you Sirius,” he snapped irritably at his godfather “you’ll be the first I come to with
confidential information in the future, I assure you.”

“You own it?!” Fleur asked incredulously before coming to a decision “Zat is it, I am coming
with you,” she declared to the shocked group and amused Harry “you cannot show
yourself in such a place without a beautiful date, luckily for you, I am free tonight.”

“A beautiful date, you say?” Harry scratched his chin in thought “and you would be this date?”

Fleur nodded resolutely while Sirius and Cedric were gaping at Harry in shock – he was
thinking about it? Is he mentally retarded?!

“I ‘ave wanted to go ever since I ‘ave heard of it’s opening, zey are supposed to ‘ave zee
most popular DJs performing and I just got this new dress I wanted to wear . . .” she
gathered herself and looked at him superiorly “you can make it my seventeenth birthday
present.”
“Your birthday isn’t until next week Fleur,” Stephanie reminded playfully, only to receive a
death glare from the Veela in question.

“So this would be my birthday present to you then?” Harry asked curiously “I wasn’t
aware we were on gift-giving terms, let alone ‘dating’ terms” he regarded her curiously
“Sorry, I don’t see what’s in it for me.”

“This isn’t really a date,” she declared “I am only attending zee club with you so you do
not look sad going by yourself.”

“As thankful as I am for your generosity,” he sarcastically replied “that’s just not enough
you see, if I’m seen anywhere with a female, ‘real date’ or not, the tabloids will eat it up,”
he sighed dramatically “no, I just don’t think it’s worth it, I think I’ll go it alone.”

Harry pre-emptively cast a silencing charm on Cedric and Sirius, who both, as expected,
blew up at his proclamation. Archie, Stephanie, Remus and Tonks almost laughed at how
they were using hand signs to try and describe killing Harry in some way if he refuses.

Fleur frowned before eyeing her sister briefly and then turning a brilliant grin to him.
Harry caught the eye movement and raised an eyebrow. Fleur nodded confidently as
Harry looked thoughtful. Those watching the byplay were completely clueless as to what
was going on.

“If you can make it happen,” Harry informed her “consider it a date.”

Fleur grinned triumphantly and approached her little sister before whispering something
into her ear. The girl’s eyes first widened dramatically, then they took on a look of denial
before finally settling on determined.

“’Arry?” Gabrielle asked shyly “is it true zat you ‘ate bunny rabbits?”

Harry looked at Fleur with a raised eyebrow; she nodded encouragingly to him before he
turned his attention back to the little French girl giving him those annoying puppy-dog eyes.

“Yes,” he coldly answered “sometimes, when I’m really bored, I go and hunt bunny
rabbits and then feed them to Remus during his transformations for fun.”

Gabrielle gasped loudly and covered her mouth with her little hands in shock. She looked
to her older sister, who was trying not to grin victoriously, with disbelief written on her
features. Quicker than lightning, the girl ran up the stairs with tears in her eyes, not
believing her ex-idol and future husband would say such terrible things!

“Well,” Harry broke the awkward silence after Gabrielle was finally out of sight “I’m feeling
oddly happy right now, be ready at ten Fleur, we won’t be staying too long, so don’t expect to.”

The French girl beamed at him before grabbing Stephanie’s hand and dragging her up to
their room. Tonks decided to follow them mainly because she was bored and wanted to
make the most of her day-off.

Harry frowned in confusion, wondering why the girl had suddenly become so receptive to
him after she had just recently been happy to declare him a mass-murderer. He didn’t like
being confused, it made him feel uninformed, and feeling uninformed made him feel like an
idiot—he didn’t like feeling like an idiot. Perhaps he was just putting too much thought into
it, she just wanted to see the club, after all.

He did find it rather amusing though that every single male in the inn sans Archie was
looking at him with envy. Annoying or not, even he could appreciate a hot girl when he
saw one as he leaned back in his chair smugly, basking in their envy.

“What am I going to wear?” Fleur asked no one in particular as she paced up and down
her room with an amused Tonks and Stephanie watching on with large smiles.

“You seem to be worrying a fair bit considering this isn’t a real date,” Stephanie couldn’t
help but goad her friend, it was so rare that she was seen like this.

“Yeah, it’s not like the guy you’re going with could out-dress you or anything . . . wait,”
Tonks smirked “he probably can.”

Fleur threw up her hands in exasperation “’Ave you seen ‘is wardrobe?” she asked
desperately “I didn’t know zat zere was a man alive with such an interest in zee way he
looks! Zere was so many designer labels in zere, and the shoes, zere were at least fifty pairs!”

Stephanie nodded grimly “I did happen to peek in there briefly,” Tonks looked at her with
an amused grin “okay, a little more than briefly. You’d just never peg Harry as the
glamorous type.”

“No,” Tonks rolled her eyes “he wears a diamond stud in each earthe size of my fist
because he enjoys how much it weighs him down,” she sarcastically said while
exaggerating the size of Harry’s earrings “you girls are hopeless, Fleur, you’re beautiful, I
don’t think it really matters what you wear, as long as you show up.”

Fleur blushed at the praise and nodded appreciatively “Be zat as it may, I cannot arrive
at such a prestigious event not looking my absolute best.”

“What’s so special about this club anyway?” Tonks asked curiously “I was never into the
clubbing scene, in fact, I skipped it all together; all I know is that Harry owns it and helped
Lucile with the designing of it.”

“’E ‘elped with zee designing?!” Fleur shrieked at her in disbelief before cursing in French,
“Oh, fucking hell!”

“What?” Tonks asked frantically “what’s the problem?”

Stephanie calmed down enough so that she wouldn’t break into another fit of giggles as
she explained, “Glamour night clubs like this one usually have a few thins going for them
that make them popular – good music, good company, lots of sexy females, celebrities . . .”

“And an excellent venue,” Fleur but in, “Zos club is like nothing I ‘ave ever heard of, do
you know why it is called ‘Three-sixty’?”

Tonks didn’t, but she had a feeling she was about to find out anyway.

“The entire building is a perfect circle,” Fleur explained, “I ‘ave not seen it for myself, but
I hear zat the inside is truly a work of art, which you must understand, is quite the
compliment coming from zee critics in Paris – where the club is located.”
“They say that the DJs themselves are underlings and Lucile herself their goddess,”
Stephanie supplied “obviously, a horribly exaggerated rumour, but it does make one
curious as to what they’re talking about.”

“Zis is why I cannot look anything less than my best when I go tonight!” Fleur pointed out
“I ‘ave an image to uphold, in such a prestigious night club where so many rich and
handsome men will be attending, I cannot be anything but zee best.”

“One of whom is, apparently, your date,” Tonks pointed out “He’s rich, he’s handsome,
and as we’ve just pointed out, fashionably savvy – I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“I know why,” Stephanie said triumphantly, “Fleur has pointed it out to us many times
already, yes, she’s going as Harry’s escort tonight, but not as his actual date, unfortunately.”

“Ah, now I see,” Tonks thought out loud, despite the mortified Fleur looking on with
disbelief “she didn’t want to appear coming on too strong, so she swindled her way into a
date which isn’t really a date, so she could impress Harry and have him come to her,” she
clicked her fingers with a smile “genius Fleur, just genius!”

“I am not interested in zat prick!” Fleur protested hotly, getting irritated at the two giggling
girls in the room.

“I don’t know,” Stephanie teased “ever since our little ‘conversation’ regarding him,
you’ve seemed awfully quiet and contemplative.”

“Hey now,” Tonks said with fake seriousness “don’t you try and corrupt poor, innocent
Harry now, he’s like my little brother, you know.”

Fleur scoffed, ignoring the ‘corruption’ jab, “Please,” she crossed her arms over her chest
“Zat boy is some things, but innocent is definitely not one of zem.”

“It depends what you mean by innocence,” Tonks was grinning like a Cheshire cat “he’s
still a virgin, if that’s what you mean.”

Fleur flushed brilliantly while Stephanie seemed to be coughing on her own spit.

“Impossible!” Fleur scoffed again “Zat boy, no, zat pig, I very much doubt he doesn’t . . .”

“What?” all three girls whirled in the direction of the door, surprised that they hadn’t heard
it open or heard Archie stick his head in “you doubt he hasn’t shagged every girl at
Hogwarts that has offered yet?”

“Archie!” Stephanie screeched angrily at the pale boy, the only thing stopping her from
kneeing him in the gut was how sickly he still looked after his transformation “what are
you doing in here?! You don’t just sneak into a lady’s room unannounced, and you
especially don’t do it during ‘girl talk!’”

Archie held up his hands defensively as he slowly pulled out his wand and cast a few
charms at the door “It’s not my fault I happened to be walking passed when I overhear
you talking about my best friend in such a dishonourable way,” he grinned at the
shocked French girl “you really should place some silencing charms on the door – don’t
worry, I just did – in the future, if you want a private conversation around here.”

“Well, say what you ‘ave to say and get out,” Fleur looked down on him with her usual
‘I’m better than you’ look. Archie wanted to joke that Harry had a look just like that, but it
was less pronounced, with saying just as much, if not more.

“Well, as I was saying, I just happened to be walking passed here to get to my room,
which is two doors down by the way,” he dodged a pillow that Stephanie threw at him
“when I hear good old Tonksie mentioning Harry’s virginity, now, normally I wouldn’t
concern myself with such matters, well, because I just don’t care, but, you, Miss Delacour,
I couldn’t help but notice were implying that our dear Mister Potter was some kind of man
whore.”

Fleur scoffed again and even Stephanie looked doubtful “I very much doubt ‘e is anything
but,” she shrugged “not zat it is my business, but zere is no need to lie to me, I see how
all zee girls treat him around here aside from us.”

Archie chuckled “Oh, no doubt, he could probably whip his dick out in the middle of the
Ravenclaw common room, and in a matter of seconds, a not so orderly line would form
ready to service him,” he couldn’t help but laugh at his own joke, no matter how true it may be.

“Archie!” Tonks and Stephanie scolded angrily; Stephanie frowned at him, “that’s disgusting!”

“I know, I’m sorry, but its true,” he defended himself “It’s actually quite sad how low girls
will go these days, but whatever, I’m not interested either.”

Stephanie smirked “You’re saying you get the same kind of treatment then?” she chuckled
at the thought.

If Stephanie was expecting Archie to make a scene in response to her comment though,
she was sorely disappointed. Come to think of it, didn’t Harry mention Archie turning
down countless dates in the past?

“The truth of the matter is, Harry’s disgusted by those kinds of girls,” he pointed out
thoughtfully “he doesn’t say it, but he gets this look on his face when he sees them
tripping over their own feet when trying to so much as speak to him.”

Stephanie and Tonks cracked up when Archie did a completely accurate impersonation of
the look they had seen so much on Harry’s face, even Fleur couldn’t help the grin it
caused to appear.

“Usually boys are rather embarrassed to admit such a thing as being virgins,” Stephanie
pointed out “I know the ones at the Beauxbatons boy’s campus are.”

“Yeah well, maybe you just haven’t met the right kind of guy then,” Archie said
disinterestedly, causing Fleur and Tonks to share secret smiles while Stephanie looked at
her childhood friend with a frown “virginity just means that the guy isn’t interesting in a
one-night shag and wants sex to mean something, I’m no female and I’m not the best
when it comes to interpreting feelings, but that’s just my thoughts on it.”

“You’ll excuse me for calling bullshit then Archie,” Fleur said dryly “because with friends
like Cedric Diggory and a godfather like Sirius Black, it is hard to believe such a thing.”

“Have you ever seen us encouraging their behaviour?” he asked the two Beauxbatons
students “actually, you haven’t been around all of us for long enough to know,” he
turned to Tonks, missing the hurt look on Stephanie’s face “have you ever seen us
encourage them?”
Tonks frowned in thought before shaking her head “No,” she trailed off “in fact, I recall
you and Harry both spreading rumours around the inn that Cedric had the clap, from memory.”

“Heh,” Archie grinned “good times, it was so worth the bitching out I got for it too. There
was this one girl that totally ripped into Cedric in the middle of the club, threatening to
sue him for reckless endangerment.”

Fleur snorted in amusement while Stephanie tried to hide her grin, “Oh yeah, I remember
that,” Tonks giggled “we need to get a Pensieve, as annoying as they can be, those four
really crack you up when they’re up to their shenanigans around here.”

“Shenanigans?” Archie mimicked her use of the strange word “what are you? Fifty?”

“Remus wouldn’t be interested if that were the case,” Stephanie quipped humorously,
Archie cracked up laughing at that one as Tonks’ hair shifted between different shades of red.

“Care to repeat that again Miss ‘I-love-him-but-it’s-not-that-simple’ Zabini?” Tonks smirked

victoriously when Stephanie shrieked and launched herself at the Metamorphagus angrily.
Archie just shook his head at the two before turning to Fleur.

“Anyway, before I leave you three to your ‘girl-talk’, I just wanted you to know that I
don’t think its fair for you to judge Harry when you don’t even know him that well,” he
poked her in the shoulder with a grin “to be honest? I think he needs a girlfriend to loosen
him up, but whatever, just think about it. How would you feel if he just saw you as – and I
really don’t mean any offense when I say this – some kind of slutty blonde just because
you’re a Veela?”

Fleur wanted to get angry with Archie for saying such a thing, but she understood what
he was trying to do. She knew that she’d hate it if people saw her like that even though
it was the farthest thing from the truth – despite what many people think, and frequently
say to her. Maybe she was being a little harsh with Harry.

Archie stepped over the wrestling duo and cancelled his silencing charms “I’m real tired, so
I’m gonna go sleep for the rest of the day, have a good time tonight,” he waved over his
shoulder before leaving the room.

Fleur watched the playfully shrieking, laughing and wrestling girls for a few more
moments before grinning. She had the perfect dress in mind, but she had to Floo back
home so her mother could get it for her.

“Look at him,” Sirius sneered spitefully “who wears pants that tight these days? He looks
like a complete idiot.”

“Sirius,” Cedric sighed warily “Harry’s always worn tight clothes and you’ve never had a
problem with them before,” the two were seated at a booth eating dinner, well, Cedric
was eating, Sirius however . . .

“Just whose side are you on Cedric?” Sirius snapped angrily “what is it with him and those
pointy shoes?” Sirius asked, referring to Harry’s fashionable shoes “is he trying to
compensate for something?”

Cedric sighed again “Yes Sirius, he must be.”

“Glad you agree,” Sirius thanked his protégé, “what’s with that shirt?” he spat “doesn’t
he know how to do up the buttons? He stopped like half-way!” he huffed angrily “why
even wear a shirt if you’re not going to even button it up or roll the sleeves up, he’s such
a loser!”

It was almost embarrassing how obviously jealous Sirius was of his godson, Cedric mused.
He’d been down here insulting the boy every since Harry had come down to eat before
leaving. It was a commonly known fact that one of Sirius’ goals with life was to sleep with
a Veela, and now, with Harry being closer than he ever was without even trying, he was
spiteful to say the least.

“Why can’t you just be proud of him?” Cedric asked warily “you’re acting completely
unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable?!” Sirius turned a betrayed look to Cedric “he’s got a date with a Veela,
and he’s not even remotely interested in shagging her!”

“Would it help if you knew she wasn’t interested either?” Cedric tried futilely “you know,
not every Veela is interested in sex, as much as it may surprise you.”

“That’s his fault!” Sirius glared at Harry “if it were me, she’d definitely be interested!”

“She’s not even seventeen Sirius,” Cedric deadpanned “you’re starting to creep me out.”

“Okay, not her specifically, but Veela in general!” Sirius rationalized “it just isn’t fair! What
is up with him wearing the World Cup Championship ring?! It’s freaking blinding me with all
those little diamonds!”

Cedric sighed and chose to just ignore Sirius’ ramblings, he felt his IQ dropping just trying
to add reason to them.

Harry - dressed in tight grey pants and an open black shirt with the sleeves rolled up - sat
lazily in his chair and pretended like he couldn’t hear Sirius’ ramblings. It was, to him
anyway, rather amusing how he was getting so bent out of shape over something
soinsignificant.

He had arrived downstairs at ten o’clock, however, knowing how long girls could take
getting ready, he had made himself comfortable with a muggle newspaper as he read the
sports section. He hadn’t checked on his favourite football team in what seemed like
forever, but it looked like Arsenal was going as strong as ever.

Now, twenty minutes since he had arrived downstairs, he was getting slightly impatient
and just wanted to leave. If this was what it was like when one went on dates all the
time, he really didn’t see what he was supposedly missing out on, as Sirius often reminded him

Just before he was about to simply leave without her, he heard the sound of what he
assumed was high-heels clackingon the wooden floor approaching the top of the stairs.
Looking up over his newspaper, he was suddenly very thankful that it was there to cover
his features; else everyone would see the look of shock on his face.

Fleur Delacour stood at the top of the stairs wearing a thigh-length, strapless and virtually
skin-tight dress with a pair of matching Italian stilettos. The dress was rather low cut as it
allowed for a good portion of her cleavage to become visible to the world. Her long legs
were also clearly visible to the world; they looked powerful, like a dancer’s, rather than
a bodybuilder’s.

Unsurprisingly, he was starting to regret not making this date slightly more official, and
by the smirk on the girl’s face, Harry figured that she knew that as well.

“Do I ‘ave something on my face?” she asked in an innocently devious tone. Harry
continued to stare at her for a few more moments, drinking in her features before
composing himself convincingly and getting up from his chair.

“No, I was just wondering where exactly you’re hiding your wand in that outfit,” he
scrutinized her carefully “perhaps you’ll show me later.”

“Doubtful,” she replied stiffly, “are we going? ‘Ow do you intend to circumvent the need
for a passport?”

Harry waved off her concern and led her out the front door; the girl seemed to be
enjoying the envious stares Harry was attracting due to her presence.

“Sirius?” Cedric called to his ‘teacher’ “I’m sorry for being irritated with you earlier,” he
apologized sincerely, a dreamy look still on his face.

“It’s okay my protégé,” Sirius wasn’t as affected by her charm knowing she was much too
young for him, but that didn’t stop him from realizing just how sexy she looked “you are
young and foolish, you will learn, don’t worry.”

“I . . .” Cedric frowned “need to find me a Veela.”

“Don’t we all Cedric,” Sirius sighed “don’t we all.”

“’Ow are we getting there?” Fleur asked again as the two walked down Knockturn Alley
and out of sight “Any means of transportation will force us to go through zee
International checking stations, and you don’t ‘ave a passport.”

“We’ll only be gone for a few hours,” Harry rolled his eyes “we’ll be going by Portkey
directly to Paris, outside the club, we won’t be passing through the ICS at all.”

“’Ow did you get a Portkey zat can circumvent the ICS’s wards around zee country?” she
asked curiously; as he studied her features, he was pleasantly surprised with the fact
that she wasn’t wearing make-up.

“It helps when you don’t purchase the Portkey,” he steered her out of Knockturn Alley
and into a small alley “hold on,” he warned giddily as he quickly activated the Portkey
without warning.

In a whirlwind of motion, the two were whisked away from London and right into the
heart of Paris.

“My hair, you bastard!” she hollered as they arrived on solid ground “are you crazy, do
you know how long it took me to do my hair?”

“I’m actually quite aware,” he responded in her natural tongue as the sounds of a beat
assaulted their senses “you had me waiting, remember?”
Harry strode off towards the club where a huge line was formed for the regular patrons
awaiting entry. The building was rather tall, it looked like three stories at most, and as
the rumours had said, completely circular. The name of the club was in red neon lights
above the entrance and a small red carpet was set up for VIPs to get entrance quickly and
easily. Harry was striding in that direction casually.

Fleur hurried along behind him, trying to hide the awe on her features as she witnessed
Johnny Depp himself enter the club with his wife before them. She may not be
completely muggle savvy, but even she knew of the sexy celebrity, or more
appropriately, many of the students at her school knew him.

Harry stopped walking when he reached the entrance as a large bouncer held up his hand
to stop his entrance. Harry merely looked at him with a raised eyebrow as the large man
studied him carefully.

“Is that you Mister Potter?” he asked incredulously “what happened to your hair?”

Harry rolled his eyes as Fleur tried to hold in her smirk “I thought it was time for a change,
Lucile is expecting me.”

“That’s fine Mister Potter, you don’t need to give me a reason for entering, I just didn’t
recognize you, is all,” he replied dutifully “a friend of yours?”

Harry looked over his shoulder to Fleur who looked star-struck and awed by her
surroundings “She’s my date, yes,” he snapped her out of her daze by placing his hand
at the small of her back and ushering her through “have a good night.”

“Did you see that line?” Fleur whispered to Harry in awe “we just got into the hottest club
in France without so much as an ID check!”

“I do own the place,” Harry reminded her “Lucile must have warned the bouncers to let
me and anyone with me in without question,” he said as they entered the main part of the
club and looked around in awe “looks likes business is doing well . . .”

Indeed, the place was filled to the brim with people and playing extremely loud house and
trance music. As the name suggested, the entire room was indeed circular with a ring of
carpet around a circular dance floor. In the middle of the circular dance floor was a raised
platform that had the DJ on it who was fiddling with his equipment and providing music.
Directly above the DJ’s podium was a large, circular, glass dome that was completely
black, Harry suspected it was one-way glass but couldn’t be sure.

Fleur spotted the DJ podium and then looked directly up and saw the black box of
one-way glass. Suddenly that rumour she heard made sense, the DJs were directly below
Lucile, who must have made her office directly above the dance floor, so she could see
every part of the nightclub she wished to.

The bar itself was split into three separate bars at three strategically placed spots around
the dance floor against the outer wall, no matter where you stood on the first floor, you
could always see one of them.

“Is it what you expected?” Harry asked Fleur loudly, straining to have his voice heard
over the music.

“Better,” she mouthed in awe, but Harry picked it up “I find it hard to believe you helped
design it.”

“I didn’t, I just helped come up with the concept over dinner one night, I didn’t think
anything would come of it,” he told her truthfully “I’m not here to dance though, I came
to see Lucile, are you coming or am I going to pick you up later before I leave?”

Fleur frowned as she looked around. There were plenty of good-looking men around her
age partying around her, all of who looked like they could teach Harry a thing or two
about having a good time. However, she wanted to hang around Harry, something
about what Archie had said earlier having struck a chord within her – besides, it would
hardly be polite to ditch her escort after he got her into this fine establishment.

“I’ll come with you, but can I get a drink first?” Harry nodded and led her to the bar. Fleur
ordered vodka with raspberry, and was promptly surprised when the man at the bar
didn’t accept her money.

“Any guest of Harry Potter’s does not need to pay for drinks here,” the female bartender,
most likely a magical citizen, informed them kindly.

Harry nodded in thanks and lead her up the stairs towards the back (is there even a back
in a circular room?) where they went up to the second level where the music was still
audible, but much less pronounced due to the glass. The second level was much like the
outside ring of the dance floor on the lower level, with the bars in the exact same
locations as their lower floor counterparts, but up here, there were several seating
areas where people were just lounging around and enjoying a drink.

Looking around, Harry spotted a door that looked like it led to the glass room above the
DJ’s plateau. Looking out the glass window that allowed the occupants of the second
floor to see the dance floor, he noticed a corridor made of the same glass as the box
leading right to it from the door not far from them.

A man and a woman guarded the door itself in formal, yet practical clothes; by the way
they held themselves and the pigmentation of their skin, Harry assumed they were vampires.

“Come,” Harry called to Fleur, who was done looking around and followed Harry to the
two guards after taking another sip of her drink.

“Lucile called for me,” Harry told the female guard in a no-nonsense tone, her eyes
widened when she realized who it was.

“Yes Mister Potter, I’m sorry to say though that Miss Lucile . . . stepped out for a few
moments,” she grinned at him and eyed Fleur quickly “she said you’d understand the urge
she suddenly felt to conduct this particular order of business.”

Fucking horny vampires! Harry mentally snarled.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” he asked irritably “she made this meeting sound
rather important.”

“No longer than two hours sir,” the male spoke up “Miss Lucile strongly suggests that you
enjoy yourself while she is out and she gives you her insincere apologies.”

Harry snorted at that as Fleur looked on curiously “Whatever, can you fetch me as soon
as she returns? I’ll be on this level, most likely.”
“That’s not a problem Mister Potter,” the female winked at him “do enjoy yourself, will you?”

Feeling oddly cheated and wondering if Lucile had somehow planned for this, despite the
fact that she could not have possibly known Fleur would have been here with him. Harry
motioned to one of the somewhat vacant seating areas near one of the bars and sat
down, Fleur following soon after.

“It looks like we’ll be spending more time together then planned,” Harry dryly informed her
“unfortunately for you, I already said I’m not in a dancing mood, so you can go and do
what you want for the next few hours I guess.”

Fleur shrugged and made herself comfortable. Harry had to try really hard not to stare at
her long legs when she crossed them one over the other “I am fine sitting here and having
a drink,” she scrutinized him curiously “I have wanted to know exactly who ‘Harry Potter’ is
for the past few days, I still find it rather curious as to exactly why Stephanie speaks so
highly of you.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he shrugged carelessly “so this is an interrogation then?”

Fleur chose to simply stare into his eyes as she took another sip of her drink before
answering “I would prefer we just try and enjoy ourselves for the next few hours, I doubt
I’ll have much of a chance to come here often,” she got that imperious look about her
again “I suppose you are infinitely better company than your lecher of a Godfather or
whore of a friend could possibly be anyway.”

Harry snorted as he too made himself comfortable “I’ll take that as a compliment then,”
Fleur watched curiously as he pulled a flask out of his back pocket and took a quick sip
before pocketing it again.

“You do not like the drinks here?” she motioned towards the flask he just put away.

“I couldn’t be bothered getting up and getting a drink,” he lied smoothly “so what
happened to you thinking of me as a mass-murderer all of a sudden?” he inquired
curiously, he figured if Lucile had bailed on him and he was going to be stranded for the
next few hours, he may as well do something with his time.

Fleur looked uncomfortable with the question, but answered anyway “I may have been
slightly quick to judge you in that situation,” she admitted hesitantly, Harry got the
impression that she didn’t like being wrong – he could sympathise, “Stephanie painted a
very . . . vivid . . . picture for me of what was happening that night, about how exactly
they were attacking, I was not entirely aware and I apologise.”

“Was apologising as hard for you as it sounded?” he inquired cheekily and Fleur allowed
herself a small grin.

“Somewhat,” she placed her half full glass on the table near them “Do you like this music?”
she asked conversationally.

“It’s okay,” Harry shrugged “it gets repetitive after a while though, I’d probably prefer it
if they mixed it up a bit with hip-hop, but Lucile knows what the public wants best,” he
motioned to the filled night club around them “obviously.”

“I suppose,” she shrugged “this is very different to the music I normally listen to,” Harry
understood the real meaning behind her words. Fleur wasn’t used to non-magical music.

“I noticed you sneaking several glances at my work on the blackboard back at home these
past few days,” Harry pointed out to the surprised girl “I’m very observant,” he dryly
informed her “could you even understand what it was I was writing down?”

Harry was baiting her, and Fleur knew it. Not willing to fall for it and appear the hot headed
or idiotic blonde he probably thought of her as, she answered truthfully “At first? Not a
clue,” she admitted “however, the more I looked at it, the more it started to make some
kind of sense.”

“Oh?” Harry looked curious now “do explain.”

Fleur frowned, choosing her words carefully so that anyone eavesdropping wouldn’t
think them crazy “At first, the equations looked completely foreign and I thought they
were simply gibberish. However, I recognized a few of the standard conjuration formulae
equating to several different outcomes,” she murmured the ‘conjuration’ not sure what
else she could use to explain it “then I realized that the formulae equated to fire,
however, there were several other complicated formulae linked into them that I couldn’t
make sense of that had to deal with heat, control and power that confused me.”

“I’m impressed,” he admitted slowly “I never pegged you for someone who was interested
in Arithmancy, I thought you said you were interested in being a Medi-witch.”

“That’s a possibility,” she admitted “but I wanted to keep my options open, a

Curse-breaker sounds interesting too, I suppose.”

“You’re not uncomfortable with the way every male in the room is staring at you right
now then?” Harry surprised her with the sudden change of topic. Indeed, Fleur quickly
scanned the room and whenever she’d lock eyes with someone who she thought was
looking in her direction, he’s suddenly find something more important to look at and turn away.

“Are you implying something, Mister Potter?” she raised an eyebrow at him as if
challenging him “do you perhaps have something to say?”

Harry regarded her curiously for a few moments as if she were an interesting puzzle. The
way in which his eyes seemed to look through her unnerved her slightly “I could tell you
that you look beautiful tonight, and you may be surprised by it, but you won’t be pleased.”

Fleur was completely caught off guard by the compliment, however veiled in observation
that it was, and was intrigued by where he was going with this.

“Sure, you make yourself look as desirable as possible – you succeeded magnificently by
the way – but from what I can gather from you, you’d rather men not admire that quality
about you first,” he leaned on his knees and peered at her more closely, Fleur reflexively
leaned back a bit, as she tried to hide the flush that adorned her cheeks; if Harry noticed
it, he didn’t bother mentioning it “with the way you instinctively leaned back from me, I
guess you feel uncomfortable, no, uncomfortable is the wrong word, you are mistrustful
of people who want to get in your personal space, so you try to keep them at an arm’s
length – your whole attitude with acting snobbish and condescending towards everyone
you meet only serves to perpetuate this issue and helps in keeping people away from you.”

If there was one thing Fleur was most certainly not expecting tonight, it was to be
psychologically analysed by Harry Potter. However, she listened curiously to see what
exactly it was that he thought of her.

“However, dear Stephanie informed us that you had three boyfriends last year, not
something you’d expect from a person who doesn’t trust men instinctively I suppose,” he
frowned thoughtfully “unless, of course, it was something that happened in one of those
relationships that caused you to become like this, something that also makes you prefer it
if people not notice you for your beauty first.”

Fleur struggled to keep her voice level “What makes you think I don’t want people to
notice me for my beauty? I take great pride in my body and with the way I look.”

“You do,” Harry looked over her body once again “obviously, but that’s not what I said, I
said you’d prefer it if it wasn’t the first thing someone complimented you on. You see,
with the way you talked to me about my equations earlier, it obviously denotes hidden
intelligence, an unnatural amount, I might add, not even the Arithmancy professor at
Hogwarts could so quickly pick up the meaning of my work.”

“And that means what, exactly?” the inside of her mouth was dry, she could honestly say
that she didn’t like being metaphorically dissected like this, it made her feel naked and exposed

“It means that, even though you’re proud of your beauty, you would much prefer it, as
cliché as it sounds, for men to admire you for your intelligence – it’s also probably why
you were in three relationships last year. Not easy to find a guy who wants you for you
mind and not your body being a Veela, is it?”

“Not particularly,” she admitted “no.”

“Yet you still quite proudly wear dresses that would make any normal man drool like some
hungry dog, it’s quite contradictory to the fact that you’d rather someone appreciate
your mind over your body.”

“Do you psychologically analyse everyone you meat then?” she tried to change the topic,
but Harry wasn’t so easily deterred.

“Only the interesting ones,” he answered her “the problem you’re faced with is not
showing your intelligence to people, it is your fear of not being taken seriously when you
do, or being mocked and having the only thing you hold truly dear to you as a person
stripped from you.”

“And why would that be a problem then?” she asked with a pained smile.

“That’s simple, if that happens, then everyone will be right about you. Their assumptions
that you are just a pretty Veela with no other talents would be true and you would truly
be useless. You fear that, it frightens you beyond measure, you want to desperately
prove the world wrong about you, bur you fear failing in that venture just as much.”

The two lapsed into an awkward silence for a few moments before Harry spoke again
“However, that’s just an observation, I could be completely wrong,” he picked up her
drink form the table and took a sip “oh god, that’s terrible, how can you drink that?”

“You really are a bastard, you know that?” her voice lacked its usual strength and Harry
was worried she’d start to cry on him “and you enjoy people thinking you’re a bastard, it
means they won’t want to associate with you and then you won’t have to deal with them.”
“I can’t argue with that,” he encouraged her and made himself comfortable again “continue.”

“If you don’t have to deal with them, then you won’t ever get attached to them; it’s why
you have so few people you truly consider friends. You secretly fear the possibility of
losing everyone again, like you did as a child, so instead of running that risk, you limit
the amount of people you care for. It’s like a really twisted game of probabilities for you,
the less people you care about, the less likely you are to be hurt again.”

“Huh,” Harry mused “you know about my mother then, that’s interesting, do go on.”

“You have a very cynical view of the world in general, which is abnormal for any child
brought up in a happy household, despite the tragic circumstances that lead you to be
living with Mister Lupin. You view the world so cynically because you try to apply logic to
human emotions and behaviour . . .”

“Which could be said for any child that grew up with books being a major part of their life,
logic becomes the law for them,” Harry interrupted briefly and pointed out to her.

“Yes, but you take a perverse pleasure in proving that logic can be applied to human
emotions and behaviour, despite how impossible many would tell you such a venture. You
enjoy transforming something that could potentially be beautiful into something dull like
an equation, something that always has a definitive result, and it pleases you because
then the world makes sense.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” he too was enjoying this, nobody really
had the balls to try to analyse him like this, that someone not only had the balls to try, but
to be scarily accurate was exciting for him.

“Because,” she grinned triumphantly “for you, if the world does not make sense, it means
there is something that you do not understand. If you don’t understand something, it
means, to you, that you’re ignorant about something. You can’t accept the fact that
there are just some questions that have no definitive answers and it drives you crazy,
especially when people around you continuously defy the rules of logic. You fear being
ignorant, because you despise the ignorant in general. You take pride in your mind and
knowledge also, and anything that makes it seem inadequate is a threat to you, which is
where the cynicism comes from.”

More silence fell between the two before Harry grinned at her “Bet that felt good, didn’t it?”

Fleur let out a breathless chuckle; her cheeks flushed this time from talking for so long so
quickly “It was somewhat liberating, I suppose.”

“Aren’t you Harry Potter?” a woman’s voice spoke form beside them as Harry tried to hide
his wince “oh my gosh, you are Harry Potter!”

A group of three girls had probably recognized the ring on his finger and had approached
him with a napkin and a eyeliner pencil. They were somewhat attractive, but with Fleur
sitting not a few feet from them, they seemed so plain. They knew this too, which is why
they were glaring daggers at her.

“I’ll go get us some drinks, you entertain these ladies while I’m gone love,” Fleur grinned
at Harry’s amused expression when she addressed him as if he were her boyfriend. The
reaction it got out of the three girls was amusing enough though.
“Whom exactly am I making this out to then?” he asked with resignation. He didn’t need
to be a dick and get these girls angry with him; he wasn’t supposed to be there after all.

Fleur came back shortly and sat beside Harry, she was so close that she was almost
leaning on him.

“I didn’t know which drink you would like, so I just got you a glass of coke,” the girl
frowned as she herself had another raspberry vodka. She would never realize how many
points she just earned with him by getting him a glass of coke and he would never know
that it was purely intentional.

“You’re sitting rather close,” Harry commented dryly, not making any effort to move
away though “is there any particular reason for it?”

“You want me to move away?” she asked innocently, Harry, albeit reluctantly, shook his
head in the negative “if I’m going to pretend to be your girlfriend, I may as well act the part.”

“If you want to play a more convincing role,” he began “I think you should suck on my penis.”

“Is that really what you want?” she leaned in so close to him that their noses were almost
touching while her hand was on his thigh “right here, in front of all these people?”

Well damn, Harry thought. He tried to bluff her and add in a witty comment into the mix,
just to annoy her, and she called him on it brilliantly “You’re having entirely too much fun
with this.”

Fleur grinned and leaned away from him again, though they were still practically attached
by the hip “Despite what I had originally expected this evening to be like, I am rather
enjoying myself.”

“Obviously,” he shook his head “at least you’re warding off the rest of the fan-girls
who’ve spotted me.”

Fleur curiously observed their surroundings, and sure enough, numerous girls, and some
guys, were watching them enviously.

“Some of them still look like they’re about to come over here,” she observed casually “it
would be a shame, you seem so annoyed by them.”

“Yes,” Harry observed her warily “a shame indeed.”

Just as two more girls were approaching them, Fleur wrapped her arm around his neck and
starting to nibble his ear.

Harry’s eyes widened in shock, but he quickly composed himself before anyone could
notice. Looking to the table in between their legs though, he spotted Fleur’s second drink
glass, as empty as the first.

“What exactly are you doing?” Harry mumbled to her “you do realize I was joking about
the penis sucking, right?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” she breathed into his ear, Harry couldn’t control the pleasant shiver
that ran down his spine at the sensation “I merely enjoy the angry look on their faces
when they realize you are not interested and are quite occupied.”
“They’ve already left now, you know,” he tried to reasonably get her to stop. This
situation was quickly spiralling out of control, and he didn’t like not having control of any
situation he was in.

“Yes, but there are four more at your four,” Fleur informed him with a chaste kiss right
behind his ear. Harry grunted in disapproval before looking over in said direction to see
that she was indeed right.

“For a girl who wants to be appreciated for her mind, first and foremost,” Harry mumbled
to her “you are seemingly doing everything to dissuade such perceptions that I may have held.”

“You are reading far too much into it, Potter,” the talking in his ear was really making him
uncomfortable, but in a good way, if that were possible “I am enjoying crushing the
dreams and aspirations of the skanks trying to pounce on you right now, nothing more, and
all I have to do is brush my lips against your ear.”

“Is that all?” he asked rhetorically “oh, and if I were to do this?” Harry quickly turned his
head, forcing Fleur to plant a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth “oops?”

“If we weren’t surrounded by so many people,” Fleur said with a pleasant smile “I would
stomp on your testes with my stilettos.”

“You’d be surprised how often I’ve actually had that threat made to me,” Harry mirrored
pleasantly, to those watching the conversation from afar though with the dull throbbing
of the music to obscure their hearing, it looked like they were having a lover’s conversation.

“You really are a pig, aren’t you?” the smile on Fleur’s face really was beautiful “you just
don’t find the time to actually sleep around, or is it perhaps, that you are otherwise
incapable of wooing said females?”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Harry raised an amused brow “do you want me to ‘woo’
you, or are you still trying to make conversation?”

“I really am tempted to see if little Harry will finally get laid if I let you two go on for the
rest of the night,” Lucile’s voice broke into their conversation “but I did call Harry here
for a somewhat important meeting, so, if you would follow me into my office, we can get
this over and done with quickly,” she grinned seductively “then Miss Delacour could get on
with sucking your penis later on, hmm?”

Harry lazily turned an eye to Lucile, who was still grinning at them, before turning back to
Fleur “Did you know she was there?”

“I did,” she admitted happily “she seems quite pleased with the situation, if you ask me.”

“Of course she is,” Harry admonished as if he were talking to a child “she just got back
from another unfulfilling evening with her husband, this is the most action she’s had all night.”

“You talk big, lover boy, when Lestat isn’t around to hear it,” her grin was still in place
“I’ve offered you countless front row seats to see how proficient my lover is, it isn’t my
fault you denied them.”

Fleur finally leaned away from Harry and grinned “Is that so?”
“Yes,” Harry answered dryly, “she has quite a few exhibitionist tendencies – actually, she
has a lot of tendencies, that’s what happens when you live for a millennium, apparently.”

“Careful, Harry dear, you’re treading on dangerous grounds,” Lucile warned sweetly
“especially when I have the perfect blackmail material right here!” she grinned victoriously
as she produced a magical Polaroid of him and Fleur getting a little frisky, well, of Fleur
getting frisky with him at least.

“Lead the way then, Lucile,” he stated dryly “we don’t have all night.”

“Aww, spoil my fun why don’t you,” she joked as the lead the pair towards her office.
Fleur sent a victorious grin towards the group of girls glaring at her, which only served to
increase their ire.

Harry’s assumptions earlier about the black box-like room atop the DJs podium had been
quite accurate. It was indeed her office and it was indeed covered with one-way glass so
that you could practically see out to any part of the large club at any time.

“Unfortunately, I’ll need to keep this brief, night clubs don’t run themselves you know,”
Lucile began before dropping a heavy and old looking tome on her desk with a loud
thump. The book had no title other than someone’s name; someone called ‘Wolfgang Vervloekt

“And what is so important about this tome that I needed to break several international
travelling laws to come and see you?” Harry asked her “the name does sound familiar though.”

“It should,” Lucile chided “Wolfgang Vervloekt was a Dutch werewolf who got really close
to finding the one true ‘cure’ for Lycanthropy – do you know what that is?”

“He found a way to build up the immune system so it could destroy the infection?” Fleur
asked with a frown, remembering what Harry told her not a few days prior about how the
disease worked.

“Not quite,” Lucile grinned humorously “why do people always assume Lycanthropy needs
to be cured? If only they were able to control the wolf within, being a werewolf would be
considered a blessing, instead of a curse.”

Harry frowned “Even with wolfsbane potion though, its impossible to completely eliminate
the wolf within entirely, even those who are constantly on that potion are forced to go
Feral at least twice a year, less they destroy themselves from within.”

“That’s what that book is for Harry, baby,” she grinned superiorly “the problem isn’t
eliminating the wolf within, it’s subjugating it. Bend it to your will, and a werewolf will
become truly strong.”

“Isn’t bending someone’s will dangerously close to soul magic?” Fleur frowned in
disapproval “such magic is chaotic at best, especially when delving into it for the first time
– you cannot expect Archie to blindly attempt something like this.”

Lucile smirked at Fleur before turning to Harry with a proud grin “She’s a keeper Harry,
you heard it from me first.”

“Be that as it may,” Harry interrupted her teasing irritably “she makes a valid point,
Archades may be splendid at brewing his potions, and more than adequate with his
elixirs, but soul magic on an entirely different level.”
“Ritualistic soul magic isn’t too different to Alchemy,” Lucile chided disapprovingly “both
work with the foreign forces to affect an object in different ways, Archades should be
able to grasp the concept fine. Now, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this meeting
short because I have another one in ten minutes, give Archie my best regards.”

Harry nodded and led fleur out of Lucile’s office, but not before the vampire got in a quick
‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’ at their backs.

“There isn’t much she wouldn’t do,” Harry mumbled irritably as he and Fleur made their
way out of the club, ready to go home now that it was almost two in the morning. They
had stayed much longer than intended.

Just before they were about to enter Moony Nights after a tiring evening, Fleur grabbed
a hold of his arm, stopping the amused boy from the bed he was so looking forward to at
the moment.

“You aren’t seriously going to kiss me, are you?” Harry asked her “not that I’d mind, I was
just hoping, you know,” he motioned down south with a grin, earning a frown from Fleur.

“Despite all my preconceptions, I actually had fun tonight,” Fleur informed him “when you
decide not to be such a prick most of the time, perhaps you can take me again, but on an
official capacity.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Harry asked her faux incredulously “I don’t know, I
don’t even like you that much . . . “

Fleur just glared at the highly amused ex-Quidditch star before shrugging “Your loss.”

Now it was her turn to be held back by someone.

“You proved to be,” Harry struggled with the words “somewhat decent company, who
knows, I may actually take you up on that offer sometime.”

Fleur gave him a superior grin, which promptly vanished with the next few words left his
mouth “Though your chances of such a thing happening would be infinitely higher if you
put your mouth to better use.”

“Prick,” Fleur accused, though there was no real hostility in her tone, it was as if she was
simply stating a fact. She soon entered Moony Nights, leaving a thoughtful Harry behind.

“Well,” he mused quietly “that’s interesting,“ he watched her through the gap in the slowly
closing door as she ascended the stairs, an extra sway in her hips, “that’s very interesting . . .”
Chapter: 24
Chapter 25: The Triwizard Tournament

“What in Merlin’s name is that thing?” Cedric incredulously asked his friend. He, Sirius,
Harry Stephanie, Fleur and Gabrielle were all seated in the big chairs surrounding the fire,
chatting casually as they waited for the Zabinis to arrive soon to take the three
Beauxbatons students back home.

Harry looked up from the object he was fiddling with that sat innocently on his lap, the
frown on his face melting away to a look of confusion “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes,” Cedric, and now Sirius, looked at the contraption on Harry’s lap curiously “you’ve
been looking at that thing for hours now, what could possibly be so interesting to hold
your attention for so long?”

“Is it porn?” Sirius asked, almost gleefully, ignoring the glares he was receiving from Fleur
and Stephanie. Gabrielle was too busy with the ice cream Fleur had bought for her from
Diagon Alley earlier, she had been poking it and slowly licking it for so long now though
that it was more like cream, but she seemed to enjoy it just the same.

“No,” Harry deadpanned “It’s not porn, this is a Macbook Pro.”

“Mark book?” Cedric frowned “I don’t see any pages . . .”

Harry sighed before placing his laptop on the table in between their chairs and turned it
so they could see the screen. The group all looked on in amazement at what appeared to
be a picture of an amazingly accurate birds-eye view of some island.

“What is that?” Stephanie asked in amazement “it looks like a map, or a picture, oh my,
what’s happening?”

While they were transfixed by what they were seeing on the screen, Harry tapped the
zoom in button several times causing the picture to blur and change with every button
press. It didn’t take long for someone to realize what was happening.

“Are you zooming in?” Fleur asked excitedly “Wait, are those people moving?”

Indeed, the picture had zoomed in so much that they were all greeted to a close-up look
of what seemed to be some kind of resort.

“Hah, I knew he was looking at porn!” Sirius exclaimed triumphantly, pointing to a topless
sunbather with a large perverted grin “maybe there’s still hope for you yet!”

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance; ignoring the glares the girls were now sending his way
as he zoomed back out to the picture he was observing previously.

“This is a muggle laptop computer, it’s like a portable library, notebook, and information
database all wrapped into one . . .”

“Did you say muggle?” Sirius frowned “As in muggle electronics? I thought it was dangerous
to bring them into the magical world and use them were they could get exposed to magic,”
Sirius frowned “I remember Lily telling us all a story of what happened when she first tried
to charm a Tillyversion, it didn’t end up well . . .”

“Television,” Harry corrected “and yes, this is muggle electronics, but as you can see, I’m
having no such problem.”

The group were looking at the image on the screen as if it was the most amazing artefact
in the world, never having seen something so strange yet awesome in their sheltered
lives before.

“What are you doing now then?” Fleur frowned in disapproval “I do not like zee fact zat
you can look at naked people on this thing.”

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing that I don’t care about what you think then, right?” he
smirked at her as she rolled her eyes at him, more than used to his antics now after
having spent a week at the inn around him “but what I was doing was looking at Satellite
imaging of a certain island in Greece – I’m looking for something.”

“Who’s a what now?” Sirius looked completely lost “you’re going to have to slow down a bit
for us ‘uninformed’ people.”

“A Satellite is a muggle invention that they launch into orbit to help perform a whole array
of tasks,” he motioned to his computer “this here, is me using the UK’s secret
reconnaissance Satellites to get extremely high detailed images of any place I want in the
world.”

“You lost me,” Sirius exclaimed with a stupid look on his face “are you saying that there
are things up there,” he motioned to the sky “that are like really, really strong cameras
that can see us anywhere, at any time?”

“Pretty much,” Harry answered to the shock of those around him “though they’re not able
to see through anti-muggle wards or magically enriched areas in general, they just don’t show.”

“How are you avoiding the problems everyone else experiences when using muggle
electronics,” Stephanie asked with her eyes still glued to the screen.

Archie just happened to be walking past with someone’s lunch at the time and filled in for
his friend with his best ‘Harry’ impression “It takes skill points you just don’t have
Stephanie,” the girl turned when she heard him speak up “why do peons such as
yourselves waste my time with such inane and troublesome questions, please go kill yourselve

That earned him a couple of snickers and a raised eyebrow from Harry “Basically, what he
said,” he placed the laptop back in his lap.

“What is it you are looking for now then?” Fleur moved to a spot right behind Harry’s chair
so she could keep watching the screen and perhaps learn something.

“An underwater temple or similar kind of construct surrounding his island,” he pointed to
the water surrounding the island and zoomed in closer to the surrounding ocean “there’s
something Archades and I are looking for that should be hiding there.”

“Did you not say zat you cannot pick up images from magically enriched environments?”
Fleur frowned “Or are you looking for something hidden in zee muggle world?”
“No, it’s magical,” Harry leaned back in his chair with a sigh “I’m trying to find out where
something could be hidden based on the environment surrounding it’s possible location –
irregular water movements, stone debris, lack of marine life, things like that.”

Fleur continued to watch Harry search through the images with rapt attention, ignoring
the grinning faces of Archie and Stephanie as the two observed their interactions, until he
pulled out a smaller device and started writing something on it.

“What is zat?” the device was thin and black, barely bigger than a wallet. It had a screen
similar to the laptop’s one, but it was much smaller. Harry also seemed to be navigating on
it with a small plastic stick.

“A smaller one of those,” Harry explained, motioning to the Macbook “I’m writing down the
coordinates of the possible locations, so I can look at them later on this as well if I want to.”

“You can see zee images on this thing as well?” Fleur asked in amazement “zee muggles are
truly amazing with the technology, no?”

Harry gave a noncommittal grunt of approval as he closed the laptop and placed it on the
table, having completed his task. Fleur was about to return to her seat beside Stephanie
but frowned when she saw Gabrielle sleeping with her head on her friend’s lap, taking up
two thirds of the couch, leaving her with no place to sit.

She turned to Harry who had a bored look on his face “I don’t think so.”

Fleur just grinned and took a seat on his chair’s armrest, much to his annoyance. This
was probably the kind of thing that would have gotten envious glares from Sirius and
jealous frowns from Cedric, but the two were already having their own heated discussion.

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Sirius frowned “I thought you were my protégé!”

“I am,” Cedric said shyly “it’s just that, well, there’s this girl that I really like at school, and
we’ve been, well, sending each other letters and stuff, and she seems interested, and
err, I kind of like her . . .”

Sirius didn’t look convinced “Okay?” he asked sarcastically “you shag her, and move on,
what’s the problem?”

Cedric seemed to fidget in his seat “She’s not like that, and, well,” his face was starting
to resemble a tomato, especially when he realized Fleur and Stephanie were listening too.
Harry, he wasn’t so sure about, he was looking into the fire, but the boy could multi-task
better than anyone he’d ever seen “I don’t want to just shag her, you know what I mean?”

“No,” Sirius shook his head stubbornly “I’m afraid I’m not following.”

“Cedric’s in love,” Stephanie grinned victoriously as Sirius gasped in shock “isn’t that cute?”

“Tell me it’s a lie!” Sirius demanded “tell me you’re not abandoning me, not when you were
so close to mastery!”

Cedric seemed uncertain about what he was supposed to say “Look, it’s not that I don’t
like shagging all the girls that are interested around here – because believe me, I do!” he
hastily added “but Cho’s different, she’s not like them, she’s so much better, but I don’t
want to treat her like how I treat the others, she’s kind of special, you know?”

“We know you don’t know Sirius,” Harry murmured before Sirius could get in what he
figured would have been a witty reply.

Sirius inhaled as if ready to refute, before closing his mouth and frowning, cutting himself
off before speaking. He did this several more times before sighing in resignation “Have
you got a picture of her? I will not have my protégé abandon his training right before the
finish line for just anyone!”

Cedric grinned and handed him a folded photo from his pocket, eager to hear the man’s opinio

Sirius’ face twisted into a look of disgust “What the hell is that?”

Cedric frowned and looked at what Sirius was looking at before laughing “No, not her,
that’s her friend Marietta, that one’s Cho,” he pointed to the Asian girl standing slightly
behind the one Sirius was referring to.

Sirius sighed in relief “Thank Merlin, the thought of you abandoning me for that Ranga is
just wrong,” he sounded glad that he wasn’t being ‘abandoned’ for an ugly girl “eh, she’s
aright I guess, for you.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” came Cedric’s indignant reply, but Fleur had
already tuned them out.

Recognizing a word she didn’t understand, she turned to Harry with confusion “What eez
a ‘Ranga’?”

Harry looked away from the fireplace to her with amusement “Ranga, another term for
someone with red or orange hair.”

The confusion on Fleur’s face didn’t leave, so Harry elaborated.

“Ranga . . . Orangutan . . . Orange . . . they have reddish-orange hair.”

Fleur let out a snort of amusement now that she understood the term.

“Doesn’t your mum have red hair though?” Stephanie asked with a frown “no offence or
anything.”

Sirius must have had super hearing when it came to Lily Potter though “Lily’s different,
she has dark red hair, when I say Ranga, I mean the ones with pale skin, freckles, orange
hair, can’t get a tan - them ones.”

“You mean like the Weasleys?” Cedric asked with a grin.

“Exactly like the Weasleys,” he then shivered “I don’t know why people threaten others
with the Cruciatus these days, just have Molly Weasley say she’ll give you fellatio if you
don’t talk, that ought to loosen your tongue real quick.”

“That’s not very nice,” Stephanie admonished poorly, the grin on her face ruining the
effect though.

They were interrupted when a raven swooped in through the owl-post window and
dropped a little black envelope sealed in red wax right on Sirius’ lap before it flew off again.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Harry mumbled softly enough that only Fleur
heard him. Just as she was about to ask what she meant, Sirius rocketed up from his
chair and pointed an accusing finger at Harry.

“How could you?!” he shouted, drawing the attention of several of the patrons currently
eating or drinking around them “I thought we were friends! But then you go and pull this stunt?!

Harry was pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance while Fleur, Stephanie and Cedric
still had no idea what was going on.

“What is he talking about?” Fleur mumbled to Harry in confusion.

“I’m talking about this!” he threw a picture on the table, one that had Harry giving Fleur a
kiss, the very same picture Lucile took of them the night before. Harry could practically
feel her triumphant smirk all the way from France.

Cedric gaped at the picture in shock before pointing incredulously between the two “You
two?!” he shrieked “I mean, Harry?!”

Wondering just what had Sirius all bent out of shape, Stephanie took the picture from the
table and looked at it herself before looking to her friend in shock “You never told me
about that,” she accused.

Fleur decided to have some fun with this; their reaction to something so meaningless was
just so amusing!

“I would have told you, but I was rather tired and sore this morning, it must have slipped
my mind,” she sighed dreamily while falling into Harry’s lap. She ignored the glare he was
sending her.

“What are you talking about? You looked fine to me,” Stephanie frowned suspiciously
“what aren’t you telling me?”

“Should we tell zem ‘Arry?” she sighed sadly “Zey will find out eventually anyway.”

The look in her eyes was one full of mischievousness, not caring either way he just
shrugged. If nothing else, this would be rather amusing.

“Well, ‘Arry and I are now lovers, we wanted to keep it a secret because we did not want
zee papers finding out,” she sighed dramatically “but it looks like we ‘ave been caught in
zee act, no?”

“You?” Sirius pointed to Harry incredulously “with her?” he moved his finger to Fleur, the
look on his face not changing “What – When – How - Teach me?”

Cedric, conveniently having completely forgotten about his new crush, was also gaping
at them stupidly. Nothing was funnier then Stephanie and Archie’s reactions though.
Stephanie’s face was frozen in one of shock and embarrassment while Archie had tripped
over his own feet as he was hurrying past to deliver some food and crashed face first into
the ground.

Harry held up his hand as if to start a count “Yes, yes, we had sex, last night, I inserted
my penis into her vagina, no,” he answered his questions in order. With Fleur sitting on
his lap now, her body pressed into his own, he could feel her shaking in effort, trying to
hold in her laughter.

“You two shagged?” Stephanie whispered the last word in her question harshly, as Archie
slowly got back up from his fall, eyeing the two in shock.

“Several times, in fact,” Harry answered her “nine times, I believe.”

“Nine?” Sirius and Cedric squeaked simultaneously “you shagged nine times in one night?”

“Of course not,” Fleur shook her head in denial, Cedric and Sirius let out a twin sigh of
relief, confident in their masculinity once again “it was more like fifteen times, did you
forget zee shower ‘Arry?” she asked so seductively that even Harry was finding it difficult
to settle his raging hormones, despite the fact he knew this was all an act – you try
remember that fact with one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever met sitting on your
lap and talking about your sexcapades together.

“Well, I already classified what our coupling consisted of earlier, which, of course,
doesn’t accurately describe our time in the shower together, now does it?” he forced a
contemplative frown on his face “though, it isn’t too different when you think about all
those positions we went through, my mistake.”

“It is lucky zat you ‘ave such a large shower,” Fleur nodded thoughtfully “some of zose
positions we went through would ‘ave been quite difficult in more enclosed spaces.”

“I assure you, it wouldn’t have been as difficult as it was when I had to force my way into
your . . .” he didn’t have to say anymore it seemed, because it looked like their little play
had finally yielded some results. Sirius, still looking at them both incredulously, had made
it through their entire ‘show’ up until the end part where his brain finally kicked back in and
realized what Harry was about to say. With a weird noise, some kind of mixture between
a squeak and a gasp, Sirius fainting dead away on the spot, probably from ‘unfair
information overload.’

Cedric looked like he was about to follow his ‘ex-mentor’ before Fleur finally burst out
laughing, even Harry couldn’t contain a snort of amusement. Stephanie and Archie looked
at them both incredulously before the newly turned werewolf spoke.

“You were lying?” he shook his head at his own gullibility “of course he was lying,” he
mumbled to himself before returning to work.

“That wasn’t funny Fleur, Harry!” Stephanie frowned in disapproval “you’re lucky Gabby’s
asleep, what would the poor thing be thinking if she heard you two?” despite her annoyed
tone, she couldn’t help but grin herself at the turn of events – it served the two perverts
right, and the look on their face was just too funny!

“I quite agree,” a familiar voice spoke up from behind them “I rather doubt that Alaina
would be pleased to hear her eldest daughter speaking in such a way, in jest or not,”
Bianca Zabini said in an amused tone, proving that she had been there long enough to
hear the proceedings.

Fleur sighed as she got up off of Harry’s lap, giving him a pat on the head for good
measure “Which is why zere will be no need to inform her, correct?” Fleur said brightly to
her best friend’s mother “she ‘as no sense of humour, zat woman.”
“I doubt the thought of someone’s daughter being sodomized in the shower several times
would be humorous to any mother,” she chuckled to herself “speaking of which, where is
Jacques?”

“How does Fleur getting buggered in the shower bring up the topic of my coward of an
ex-boyfriend?” Stephanie scowled as Bianca’s face lit up with delight.

“Oh, you got rid of him then?” she exclaimed happily “it’s about time, I never liked that
boy, or any of the other boys at that school of yours either!”

Stephanie huffed irritably “If you and daddy had your way, I wouldn’t be allowed to date
any boy at all, Beauxbatons student or not,” she glared at her grinning mother “no boy is
good enough for me, right?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that dear,” Bianca’s eyes flickered over to Archie who was hard at
work busting down tables, unfortunately, nobody but Fleur had caught the look though,
which is why only the French girl was smirking.

“I had hoped he’d leave of his own accord after his behaviour at the World Cup,” Bianca
sighed warily “did you at least leave him with a parting gift?”

Mother and daughter shared a knowing grin as Stephanie’s eyes flashed viciously “I may
have slipped and landed on his groin,” she innocently stated “with my knee, hard.”

“Good girl,” her mother praised her “there’s nothing wrong with doing that when the man
it happens to deserves it.”

Stephanie let out a nervous chuckle as memories of her kneeing Archie in the goods for
much less came flooding back to her “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Well dears, you’d best wake little Gabby up so we can leave, your parents are waiting at
our estate Fleur,” the girls nodded as Stephanie shook Gabby awake.

Fleur, meanwhile, went to the bar to collect their bags when Archie suddenly approached
her with a grin on his face.

“So,” he eyed her speculatively “you and Harry, huh?”

Fleur’s cheeks reddened slightly as the memory of his muscled chest pressed into her
back only moments go came back into mind, she had fought hard to not show her delight
at such a position at the time, but now, with Harry not around to notice, she wasn’t too
ashamed to let it show.

“What of it?” she asked a little more stiffly than she would have liked “it was just a joke to
shock Mister Black, nothing more.”

“Right, keeping telling yourself that and I’ll conveniently forget seeing you enjoy the
position on Harry’s lap a little too much,” Archie said sarcastically, much to Fleur’s shock
“what? You think Harry’s the only observant one? Give me some credit, besides,
becoming a werewolf has given me some curious side effects.”

Archie had to grin at the look of dawning comprehension on Fleur’s face; it then quickly
changed to a look of horror.
“I’m still getting used to all these new smells and what not,” Archie began “Remus has
actually been helping me with identifying different scents these past few days. I admit,
I’m not an expert in the field, but I can recognize arousal when I smell it . . .”

“Shh,” Fleur slapped her hands over Archie’s mouth, horrified that someone may overhear
their conversation “congratulations, you ‘ave proved zat you are a pervert of a different
kind, what do you want from me to keep this information secret?”

“Nothing,” Archie said seriously, much to Fleur’s shock “I actually wanted to help you by
giving you some information; you see, you’re probably the best thing that’s happened to
Harry in a long time. He needs someone like you around, someone who isn’t intimidated,
awed or repulsed by him.”

Fleur’s cheeks reddened further “Someone you know who likes him and doesn’t care zat he
is a prick?” Fleur clarified with a small smile.

“Yeah, something like that,” Archie grinned “the problem is, Harry’s convinced himself that
things like that are unnecessary, at least I think he has from what I’ve been able to pick
up from him.”

Fleur was oddly silent as she looked over to the boy in question, who was back on his
laptop while using the smaller one to mark down coordinates.

“And how is it zat you were going to ‘elp me?” she sighed warily “for all intents and
purposes, it seems like a lost cause, ‘e may joke with me, but ‘e is not interested.”

“Oh, he’s definitely interested,” Archie grinned mischievously “you’re not the only one I
can smell, you know.”

Fleur’s eyes widened comically before she snickered at the thought of the mighty Harry
Potter being aroused by her – it was a humbling thought.

“See, what I wanted to tell you is that Harry won’t want to rush into things,” he began as
the girl discreetly eyed the boy out of the corner of her eyes “he may not seem like it, but
he’s the kind of guy that won’t do anything unless he’s really serious about the girl he’s
doing it with, you know?”

“And ‘ow can you be so certain of such a thing?” she frowned in confusion “’Arry does not
seem like zee kind of guy to go spilling such things, even if it is to ‘is best friends.”

“True enough, let’s just say that I’ve been around him long enough to pick up on a few
things,” he grinned happily “as I was saying, he won’t want to rush into things, which
means, if you are genuinely interested in him, you have to be prepared to take it slow
and actually get to know him; he won’t be content with snogging your brains out just
because you’re pretty and offering.”

Fleur sighed warily “’Arry is such a ‘ard person to understand,” she frowned “he does not
seem like any of zee other boys I ‘ave ever met, nothing like zem at all,” aside from Harry
and Archie, she had never met someone who was single and able to resist her natural
Veela aura as well as they were able to. Archie’s reason was simple enough to
understand, but Harry was just another issue altogether. It was refreshing to actually be
able to talk to boys her own age without them drooling all over her, it’s probably why she
enjoyed talking to Archie and spending time with Harry so much.
“That’s Harry for you,” Archie shrugged helplessly “even back in our first year, he was
always more mature than the rest of us. It’s actually kind of funny, even though we were
all in the same year level, Harry always gave off this aura that made you feel like you
were beneath him, that’s without even trying,” he chuckled “I don’t feel that way around
him though, I never have, but that’s because I know he’s just a teenager like the rest of
us, a more complicated one, sure, but a teenager all the same,” he grinned at Fleur, one
that she was more than happy to reciprocate.

“Zat is true,” she smirked “I can’t ‘elp but wonder why it is zat people who cannot accept
advice always insist on giving it.”

Archie waved her off “I’m working on it, give me a break,” he quickly changed the topic
“oh, I almost forgot to mention, Harry has really sensitive ears, I can’t tell you why, but
just believe me when I say he does,” he pointedly rubbed his own ear so Fleur could
understand what he meant “Remus told me he used to do that to Harry as a kid if he ever
had trouble sleeping, at the time it was just a funny story but I’m sure you could make
use of such information in the future.”

Fleur finally understood why Harry seemed so uncomfortable with Fleur nibbling on his
ear back at Three-sixty. He was getting turned on! The thought almost made Fleur giggle
like a little schoolgirl but she held her composure expertly, despite the fact that she was
giggling like mad on the inside.

“Thank you for zee help Archie,” Fleur smiled as she kissed him on the cheek “your future
mother-in-law seems to be getting impatient, so I will leave you to your work, see you
soon, no?”

“Yea, no problem,” he grinned, secretly enjoying how Fleur referred to Mrs Zabini as his
mother-in-law “don’t be a stranger.”

Walking back over to where Harry, the recently recovered Sirius, Cedric, Gabby,
Stephanie and Bianca were, she informed them that she was ready to leave. Stephanie
quickly went to bid Archie farewell while the rest said their goodbyes.

“I suppose I’ll see you around then ‘Arry?” Fleur asked with a tone of fake disinterest, the
boy in question however seemed more interested in what he was seeing in the computer
though as he merely nodded briefly without taking his eyes of the screen to show that
he had heard her.

As the group finally left Moony Nights with promises of letters and seeing them soon
(Gabrielle with a tight hug for Archie and a scathing glare to the bunny-hating Harry),
Sirius and Cedric chose to look at Harry with incredulous expressions.

“What is it?” Harry asked irritably, a mere second away from just going back up to his
room to avoid all these interruptions.

“You could possibly be in with the hottest Veela I’ve ever seen – objectively of course,
she’s much too young for me – and when she bids you a farewell, all you do is nod like a
caveman?!” Sirius asked incredulously, sounding quite appalled at the thought “are you an idiot

“Are you done?” Harry shot back in a bored tone “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“He’s right Harry,” Cedric agreed with his ex-mentor “you definitely have a shot, that’s
something nearly every red-blooded male would probably give up a limb for.”

“You, shut-up and go back to pining over your precious Ranga,” Harry grinned as Sirius
cracked up laughing while Cedric sputtered.

“It’s Cho I’m interested in, not Marietta, and can you please not use that term?” he
pleaded futilely “it sounds rather demeaning and rude.”

Sirius snickered “Now at least we know how he got with so many girls,” he chortled again
before continuing “those puppy-dog eyes are just so hard to resist!”

“I don’t have to beg women for sex, unlike someone I know,” Cedric replied sharply.

“Hah,” Sirius scoffed loudly “the day Sirius Black begs for sex, is the day Monty actually
grows a pair and finally asks his ‘Stephy-poo’ out, instead of waiting around like an idiot
for some other guy to spot her first . . . again.”

His proclamation was met with a bowl of mashed potatoes to the face “Oh yes, real
mature Monty!”

“Archie, you can clock off now, the lunchtime rush is over,” Remus called from the
kitchens, his voice only audible as the customers who had originally flooded into the inn
for lunch had all but vanished, leaving only a few scattered around.

Archie hung up his black apron and plopped down lazily on the large couch Stephanie had
been occupying moments ago, “Merlin, I’m so damn tired.”

“Lunchtime rush wasn’t that bad,” Sirius frowned at the yawning boy “stop being lazy.”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Archie yawned again “been reading that book Lucile
gave me, interesting shit in there I tell you.”

“Oh?” that caught Harry’s attention “what do you make of it?”

Archie shrugged “Vervloekt certainly has an interesting point-of-view on the issue of

‘curing’ werewolves, one that I’m starting to share, actually.”

“How do you mean mate?” Cedric asked with interest “I thought it was just about getting
rid of it, how much more to it can there be than that?” he quickly added “I’m not saying
that the process is easy, I mean the way in which you would go about it.”

“I know,” Archie placated him “at first, I was trying to find a way to alter the body’s
immune system so it could actually locate and destroy the lycanthropy virus by isolating
the DNA strand linked to it and removing it,” he explained logically “but I figured that was
pretty much impossible back in second year, there’s just no way to make someone’s
immune system that powerful. Then, up until I got that book from Lucile last night, I’d
been trying to invent an elixir that wouldn’t destroy the DNA strand responsible for
making one a Lycanthrope, but it would counter its effects on the body, basically making
it useless.”

“How close were you to actually making that?” Sirius asked with interest “it sounds rather
complicated and something that would win you your potions mastery had you succeeded.”

“Honestly?” Archie asked “fairly close, but after reading this book, I felt disgusting with
myself for that fact. Why is it that I’d been seeing Lycanthropy as a disease that needs
to be cured rather than a blessing that needs to be controlled?”

“Because without the wolfsbane potion, it is a disease – you can’t control yourself and
you become someone else entirely, someone you don’t want to be,” Harry pointed out
reasonably “Which is why Lucile gave you that book.”

“Yeah,” Archie nodded “it goes on a lot about isolating the inner wolf within your mind and
keeping it locked away with Occlumency,” Archie frowned “if one is a master Occlumens,
they can basically control their full moon transformations without the aid of potions;
according to Vervloekt anyway.”

“You don’t agree?” Sirius asked curiously, the idea sounded good enough, if not
ridiculously hard to achieve.

“Not everyone has the aptitude for Occlumency,” Archie reasoned “It’s not entirely fair to
those who aren’t who also want to control themselves during their transformations. The
idea is to lock away your inner wolf and keep him locked up using your Occlumency
barriers permanently, but using so much mind magic could cause irreparable damage to
one’s brain, so I thought of another way.”

Nobody heard Harry’s amused snort. It wouldn’t be as strenuous as locking out

Dementors was for him, because the inner- wolf wouldonly want out one night a month,
but it could still cause the same thing to occur after a long period of time.

“There’s a potion I’ve read about in one of my more obscure books,” which basically
meant one of the dark arts potions texts he picked up in Knockturn Alley “it works in a
similar way to the imperious curse, but it doesn’t rely on the user’s power. If I could alter
that potion to target the inner wolf specifically, it’d be more than suitable to subjugate
the wolf and control the transformations.”

“Why risk it?” Harry asked after the four had remained silent for a few moments after
Archie’s idea “why not make a potion that targets the inner wolf’s location in your mind
and destroys it? It may be dangerous, but wouldn’t the benefits of such a potion outweigh
the risks?”

“What benefits could possibly outweigh the risks of potentially blowing up one’s brain?”
Cedric asked incredulously “Archie’s idea sounds safer, go with that.”

“No,” Archie mused quietly “Harry has a point, because if the inner wolf remains alive
within me, or any other werewolf, it would still control the transformations . . .”

“But if you destroyed it and learned to control the power it once did . . .” Sirius trailed off
with a large grin.

“You basically get a super Animagus form,” Harry finished dryly “one that would still be
more powerful during a full-moon, but still useful out of it. I honestly think that’s the
conclusion Lucile wanted you to come to by giving you that book Archades.”

“I’d considered it,” Archie admitted “but I’m also thinking about using whatever I use on
myself with others after it works, I just don’t want to risk destroying their brains because
of a mistake.”

“Then be careful,” Sirius shrugged “if you got it to work, could you imagine how useful
that would be?”

“The werewolves would be able to live independently of the Wizarding world,” Cedric
piped up “they wouldn’t need to rely on others to control their transformations.”

Archie looked to Harry who had a rather unnerving calculating look in his eye, one that
usually meant he was coming up with insane, yet extremely brilliant, ideas.

“Anyway, changing the topic,” Archie spoke up “where did you go off to this morning? I
wanted to tell you that I found another of the ingredients you asked for.”

Sirius and Cedric, not knowing what they were talking about and thinking it was some
geeky nerdy conversation, tuned them out and returned to the topic of Cedric’s
abandonment of his ‘Mentor’ for a measly girl.

“I was at Gringotts, why?” Harry asked curiously “what did you find?”

“Nothing, yet, but I think I have a way in which we could find an Antiquus tree – many of
them, in fact,” he grinned greedily “if we find more than one, I shotgun them!”

“I only want enough sap to make the potion, the rest of it is yours, I don’t care,” Harry
reminded his friend “what did you think of?”

“You remember that time in school when you told me that Egypt, or rather, Ancient Egypt is
still hidden under lots of Fidelius like charms?” he asked Harry “you said something like
twenty percent of it has disappeared over the millennia.”

Harry eyed his friend with a bored expression “And you had a rather uncharacteristic
stroke of brilliance in saying we had no way of finding what lay inside there due to us not
being able to break said charms.”

“Right, but this isn’t the Fidelius charm, right?” Archie reminded him impatiently “it’s only like
it. I had a thought, remember in Ancient Runes when Sinistra told us that all large and
powerful warding constructs needed a focal point or anchor to base itself around, what if
we found that anchor and manipulated it to allow us entrance?”

Getting over the shock of Archie actually listening in Ancient Runes, Harry speculated on
what exactly that could mean “It would definitely explain why the goblins are so intent on
hiring curse-breakers and experts to work with their excavation teams in Egypt.”

“Especially considering that anything worth finding in the Egypt we know of was already
found by the Egyptian Ministry of Magic for their museums and research – wait, how did
you know the Goblins were so gung-ho about Egypt in their excavations?” Archie frowned
in thought “yes, they’re constantly sending people there, but they’re also sending them to
lots of other places as well, what do you know?”

“I’ve been doing research lately on the Wood Elves and Kingsfoil in general when I found
an interesting bit of information in one of Salazar’s tomes, it wasn’t much, but it definitely
made things interesting . . .”

“And what’s that?” Archie eagerly asked.

“Before the Wood Elves went into hiding, they were quite close business partners with
the Goblins,” Harry motioned towards one of the Goblins sitting at the bar not far from
them with a drink “it seems they have quite a handful of uses for the stuff, which is why I
figured that the elves weren’t as in hiding as they would have us believe.”

Archie looked between the Goblin and Harry several times before realizing dawned on his
features “You’re saying they’re still in business with each other?” he whispered urgently
to Harry “what for? What benefit would the Elves get from that?”

“Metals for their Kingsfoil,” Harry simply shrugged “it’s rather hard to make weapons out
of trees, you know, and the Elves are legendary when it comes to enchanting, they’d need
a lot of good metals for their work, homes and defence systems.”

“And the Goblins simply confirmed this?” Archie asked dubiously “why do I sense a but coming

“The second I mentioned an interest in contacting the Elves, and that I thought that the
Goblins could help me, they were suddenly all too happy to grant me my meeting with Ragnuk.

“Ragnuk?” Archie asked incredulously “as in Ragnuk the third? The king of the Goblins?”

“And the little bastard who barred me from entering the poker game in Switzerland,”
Harry informed his friend “basically, I tell him what I know, he gets defensive and asks
what’s stopping him from ordering my death, I threaten him at wand point and then we
come to an agreement.”

“Wait, hold up a second!” Archie frowned “how do you get from threatening the king of
Goblins at wand point to coming to an agreement?”

Harry merely shrugged nonchalantly “Aggressive negotiations?” Archie scoffed “it doesn’t
matter, the point of my story is he agreed to get me in contact with the Elves, if, and only
if, I’m able to find him a large source of Orichalcum from their excavation sites around Egypt.”

“So that’s why they’re still there,” Archie mused “they’re looking for Orichalcum, and
they’re desperate to do so quickly – what do you think has got them in such a rush.”

“Either there’s going to be a war between them and the Dwarves soon, or the Dwarves
found another Mithril vein,” Harry shrugged “regardless, you can bet on it that it has
something to do with the Dwarves.”

“So that’s two more ingredients crossed off from the list then?” Archie queried “assuming
we can find a way into the remnants of Ancient Egypt when even entire teams of
experienced Curse-breakers are having trouble? Doesn’t sound too hard,” he sarcastically
replied.

“That and anything other than Orichalcum that we find is ours if we find our way in – the
Goblins only want the metal.”

Archie looked at him with shock “Do you have any idea how much money relics from
twelve thousand years ago would be worth now?”

“Depends on who’s going to be buying, I’d imagine a fair bit . . .”

“Billions!” Archie hissed at him with awe “we’d be the richest people on the planet if we
actually found anything of worth!”

“Probably,” Harry nonchalantly replied, “so we know roughly where to look for the
Gorgon’s blood, Antiquus tree-sap, Phoenix tears, Rose vine, Vampire blood, Lethifolds
and the Kingsfoil; and we have the Basilisk venom, Ashwinder scales and Runespoor scales.”

“Sounds about right,” Archie nodded in approval “we just need to find more accurate
locations for the Mentis flowers and mature female Vorpala.”

“Doesn’t sound too hard,” Harry sarcastically replied, earning a snort of amusement from Archi

The two lapsed in a comfortable silence as they watched Sirius and Cedric bicker about
something inane again. After a few minutes of just staring at them blankly, Archie broke
the silence with a depressed sigh.

Harry merely ignored him though, however, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes when
Archie only sighed louder in an effort to hopefully gain his attention.

Still, with no response from Harry, he sighed even louder, the noise almost sounding like
a groan as he put some of his voice into it.

“What is it Archades?” Harry asked irritably as he looked into the fire. Archie grinned
victoriously when Harry finally responded.

“I just got used to the idea of Stephanie being around here all the time, you know?” he
sighed warily “and now she’s gone again, and I probably won’t see her until next summer.”

“I rather doubt that,” Harry mumbled, but it was loud enough for Archie to hear.

“And why’s that?”

Harry sighed in exasperation as he pinched the bridge of his nose before responding
“Hogwarts is going to be hosting the Triwizard tournament this year, the participating
schools are going to be Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, odds are she’ll be there because of it.”

“What’s a ‘Triwizard tournament’?” his question gained the attention of Sirius and Cedric.

“What’s this talk about a tournament?” Sirius asked with interest “did you say Triwizard
tournament?”

“It’s being held at Hogwarts this year,” Harry replied as Sirius’ eyes widened comically.

“You’re not going to enter are you?” the worry in his voice was evident.

“No, not interested,” Harry yawned “I’d be more worried about these two if I were you,”
Harry motioned to Cedric and Archie who both had looks of confusion on their faces.

“I’ve heard of it before,” Cedric frowned “but I can’t recall what it was exactly.”

“Care to inform those of us who haven’t heard of it or know what it is either?” Archie
snapped irritably.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t heard of it,” Sirius arched a curious brow “most Wizarding
children have at least heard tales of the tournament and all it entails . . .” seeing how his
audience was getting impatient, Sirius began to explain “The Triwizard tournament is a
famous contest between three school – Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. It
originated some six or seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between them
that was hosted every five years, where It was held alternated every time between the
schools.

The tournament itself consists of a series of tasks that are supposed to test each
school’s champion in a variety of different ways, how though, I don’t know, there hasn’t
been one in centuries . . .

The stories I always hear focus more on the death toll of the tournaments rather than
the success of the champions. As the tournament continued through time, the death toll
just continued to increase due to the usual danger of the task until it was discontinued
some time ago.”

“So there hasn’t been one in a while then?” Archie frowned “I get in enough trouble as it
is, I don’t need a famous tournament to lower my chance for survival thank-you-very-much.”

Sirius nodded with obvious relief, however that relief was short lived when he saw the
look of determination on Cedric’s face “This is the chance I’ve been waiting for to prove
that Hufflepuff isn’t a house of rejects,” he said grimly “if I can become the champion of
Hogwarts and win, I very much doubt anyone’s going to be talking ill of my house for a
long time.”

“Don’t be stupid Cedric, this is real,” Sirius sighed “I remember hearing stories of a
cockatrice one year going on a rampage and nearly killing all of the champions, while in
another tournament, a rather temperamental dragon roasted the three unsuspecting
champions at once – it’s not something to take lightly, especially for something as stupid
as school rivalries!”

“You don’t understand Sirius,” Cedric frowned at the older man “all my life I’ve been
looked down upon just because I’m a Hufflepuff or because I don’t come from a wealthy
pureblood family – this is my chance to prove them wrong.”

“While this is all extremely fascinating,” Harry cut in “I think I’m going to go back to my
room, you guys can bitch each other out all you want,” he announced to the surprised
trio as he gathered his laptop and PDA before heading back upstairs to his room, leaving
the arguing trio behind to discuss the tournament.

“Do you ever wonder why they don’t let us Portkey straight to Hogwarts?” a tired looking
Archie asked as he, Cedric and Harry found a compartment on the Hogwarts express.

“Tradition, I guess,” Cedric shrugged “I got over it in first year though. I have better
ways to spend my time then spending eight hours travelling to Scotland . . .”

“The train has wards on it that alert Hogwarts exactly how many students are coming this
year, what their favourite meal is, what house the current students are in, their physical
condition, stuff like that,” Harry clued in the two boys without shifting his gaze from the
position it was set on outside the moving train.

“How in Merlin’s name do you know that?” Archie asked, flabbergasted “I don’t imagine
that’s the kind of thing they would go around telling people, to be honest.”

“I’ve been reading up on detecting and disabling runes,” Harry shrugged “I was curious
and tested the train last year, found out what I just told you. It’s not like they’re
concealed very well, it’s just that no one thinks to look.”
“I guess that’s why you always have exactly what you want ready for you at the feast
tonight,” Archie laughed “I never would have suspected.”

“I’ve been wanting a big pint of coke for years and have yet to receive it,” Harry felt the
need to inform the boy “personally, I think it’s the House Elves trying to screw with me.”

“Why would they want to do that?” Cedric frowned at the prospect; every house elf he
had ever met was usually rather pleasant and eager to serve if you were nice to it.

“I may have slipped some of them love potions a few years ago,” he grinned when
Archie’s roared with laughter.

“That was you who had every house elf in Hogwarts chasing around Professor Snape like
sex crazed maniacs?” Cedric joined in on the laughter when he too remembered that
incident, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were the targets of his ire for several months
afterwards; it was rather ironic that someone from Ravenclaw was responsible for it, now
that he thought about it, given how much the Puffs and Gryffs had to pay for it.

“I neither confirm nor deny such a rumour,” Harry replied, trying to keep the amusement
out of his voice. Just because he never got caught, didn’t mean that he wasn’t an
awesome prankster when he wanted to be – a Marauder raised him, after all.

They were interrupted when their compartment door opened, allowing none other than
the Boy-who-lived, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and his younger sister Ginny, to enter.

“Blimey, it’s him,” Ron spoke with awe, as if Harry couldn’t hear him.

“May we help you, children?” Archie asked in an amused voice “the grown-ups are trying
to have a pleasant conversation here.”

Neville and Ron scowled at being called children while Ginny and Hermione were too
embarrassed to care. Cedric sent an amused glance to Harry who wasn’t even looking at
their guests, preferring to lean his head against the window and take in the sights of the
passing scenery.

“We have just as much right to be here as you do,” Neville declared as he went to take a
seat for himself. In response to his claim, Harry, Cedric and Archie all put their feet up on
the part of the bench opposite where they were sitting, making sure to spread out and
take up all the room.

“Sorry, but there’s no room,” Archie declared pleasantly “maybe some other time.”

Ron had stopped scowling at being called a child and continued to stare at the back of
Harry’s head in awe while Neville seemed to be getting angry.

“Now see here, you have no right to hog up all the room in the compartment if someone
wants to sit with you, Quidditch star or not,” Neville declared hotly.

Harry didn’t even bother to warrant that declaration with a response however, confident
that Archie would deal with it.

“The so called Quidditch star isn’t even talking to you, now if you want to star gaze, I
suggest doing it during Astronomy,” he made himself more comfortable in his seat “and not
in our cabin.”

“You are being rather rude in presuming that we have no right in choosing who we wish to
sit with - Cho!” he excitedly called out as the Asian girl just happened to be walking past
their compartment with her friends.

Turning to see the girl Cedric had been arguing with Sirius over, he recognized her as the
seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. The girl was rather pretty in her own right and
spoke with a Scottish accent.

Cho entered the compartment when she heard someone calling out to her, pushing past
Neville and his gang as they were blocking the door “Cedric?” she exclaimed happily “it’s
good to see you!” she rushed him and gave him a quick hug.

Archie snickered at his friend who had a rosy hue to his cheeks after the contact with the
Asian girl. Harry, however, suddenly had his attention drawn by the copious amounts of
orange that their compartment had suddenly attracted. Resting his eyes on Cho’s friend,
Marietta, Harry nudged Archie with his foot and motioned to her subtly.

“Remember her?” he asked through closed teeth, quietly enough so no one but maybe
Cedric could hear them “It’s Utan the Orange.”

It only took Archie a brief moment to understand what Harry was saying before he burst
out laughing. Cedric flinched slightly too, indicating that he had indeed heard them – the
boy was hoping that the girl didn’t either. Rule number one when trying to date a girl is to
get in good with her friends, because they can be your worst enemy!

“Sorry, I just remembered something funny, why are you four still here?” Archie directed
the question at the irritated first years “can you please leave? There, I asked nicely.”

With a glare at Archie, Neville grabbed Ron by the arm and practically dragged him out
before having to call the just as annoyed Hermione who looked to be ready to launch into
a rant, and Ginny who was staring at Harry, Archie and Cedric with just as much awe.

Cedric didn’t feel that introductions were necessary for two reasons. One, because he
was the only non-Ravenclaw in the compartment and the other four were bound to know
each other, and two, Harry probably didn’t know who these two were and it would be
rather embarrassing if he were forced to reveal it – for the girls, anyway.

“Do you guys want to join us? We weren’t doing much anyway,” Cedric offered, trying not
to laugh as Marietta was looking at Harry and Archie with lust clear in her eyes.

“If you don’t mind,” Cho said shyly, referring to how the otherswere dismissed.

“Don’t worry about them, we kicked them out because they just barged in here
uninvited,” the second he said that, the compartment door burst open again, this time
revealing Draco Malfoy followed by his two regular goons.

“Okay, what the fuck? There’s definitely some kind of infestation problem going on here,”
Archie scowled as Draco looked around the room with his nose raised in the air.

“Ah, Potter,” he greeted Harry as if they were old friends “I’ve been looking for you for a
while, care to join us in our compartment where the company is much better?” he looked
at the other occupants of the cabin in disgust “someone of your stature shouldn’t be
associating themselves with Mudbloods and Blood-traitors like these.”

“Mudblood?” Harry asked incredulously, before the others could beat the shit out of the
little brat “that’s so two thousand five, get with the times mate,” he rolled his eyes before
getting up and pushing past the trio of baffled Slytherins “seeing as we can’t go two
seconds without being intruded upon, I’m going to go around and annoy people, I’ll see
you guys later.”

Prowling around silently in his Animagus form, Harry was able to remain inconspicuous
and hidden to the rest of the students on the train, many of whom, much to his
annoyance, were talking animatedly about going to school with ‘Harry Potter’ this year.

He didn’t arouse much suspicion in this form, as more than a dozen students, at least, had
black cats for their own as pets. It was a common thing in the Wizarding world, which is
why he loved his form so much. It was perfect for sneaking, hiding, or, as he was about
to find out, spying.

“We gave Potter a chance,” his ears twitched when he heard the voice of Malfoy mumble
his name quietly, thank god for his enhanced cat like senses “we gave him a chance at an
alliance, but he instead chooses to side with the Mudbloods and Blood traitors.”

Two grunts was all the response he received from his stupid bodyguards.

“Father gave me a very important mission,” he whispered even more quietly to the two,
however Harry could still hear them perfectly “he told me about a special tournament that
will be occurring this year, one that has an extremely high mortality rate. My father told
me to make sure Potter’s name is entered into the tournament, as long as that happens,
he assures me that he’ll be selected.”

Really Lucius? Harry couldn’t help but roll his feline eyes at the ridiculous plan. It was not
only poorly thought out, but it would have been extremely poorly executed too had the
blonde boy been given the chance to follow through.

“What’s that cat doing here?” Malfoy sniffed disdainfully at him “Goyle, get rid of it, I
don’t want fur balls dirtying my new robes, these are extremely expensive Acromantula silk . . .”

His voice died in his mouth when he saw Harry transform into his human form, however,
before they could even so much as think about drawing their wands, Harry had already
drawn the Elder wand and cast three consecutive Obliviates at them.

The three boys looked at him with dazed expressions, a sure fire way to tell that they’d
just been affected by a memory charm.

“You three will forget about any plans you have for entering Harry Potter into the
Triwizard tournament, or any nefarious plans you have for him in general. You will send a
letter to your father to tell him that your mission was a success, but you will not know
personally what mission you speak of. You will also forget anything you know of Harry
Potter and a possible Animagus form that he may possess.”

He paused slightly before deciding to have a little fun with this “Vincent, don’t forget to
confess your hidden feelings for Gregory in a very public place – you don’t want him to
think that your love is anything but genuine, after all.”
He then cast a quick Obliviate on them once again to remove the memory of him
instructing them from their minds, without removing the instructions themselves, before
leaving their compartment in his Animagus form, his meddling for the day completed.

The well-fed students of Hogwarts all quieted down when Dumbledore rose from his seat
to address them now that they were done eating.

“So!” Dumbledore said, smiling around at them all. “Now that we're all fed and watered, I
must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the
caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has
this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and
Ever-Bashing boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven
items, I believe, and it can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check
it,” he explained. "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is
out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is
also my painful duty to inform you that the Inner-House Quidditch Cup will not take place
this year,” he said, much to the shock of the students in the hall.

Harry wanted to bang his head against the table when almost everyone around him,
aside from Archie, rose from their seats to scream their protests at the aged headmaster.
Feeling a headache coming on, Harry took a quick sip from his flask before pocketing
again, glad that the oncoming headache was subsiding.

Dumbledore raised his hand, and as if by magic, the students all stilled their protests and
let him speak “This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing
through the school year, taking up much of the teacher's time and energy - but I am sure
you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at
Hogwarts . . .” Dumbledore said, but at that moment, there was a deafening roar of
thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

Harry, along with every other person in the Great Hall, turned to the doors. A man stood
in the doorway. He was leaning upon a long staff and was covered by a black traveling
cloak. He lowered his hood and shook the water out of his mane of dark gray hair. He
began to walk up towards the teacher's table, a clunk echoing through the Hall with every
other step.

Seeing the heavily scarred face and the electric-blue magical eye swirling around in his
empty eye socket, Harry recognized the man immediately. It was Tonks’ Auror mentor,
Alastor ‘Mad-eye’ Moody, or just Mad-eye Moody, for those who knew him.

Moody walked over to Dumbledore as the two conversed in low tones before Dumbledore
smiled and motioned to an empty chair to his right.

“May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said into
the silence. "Professor Moody.”

Harry almost snorted in amusement when nobody chose to applaud him, as was custom
whenever a new teacher was introduced to the school. The hall was eerily silent as
Dumbledore cleared his throat to continue speaking.

“As I was saying,” he said, smiling at all the students, who's eyes were still transfixed on
Moody, “we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming
months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure
to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

“You're JOKING!” Fred Weasley yelled at the top of his lungs, startling the occupants of
the Great Hall into action; excited whispers and worried glances were exchanged amongst
friends, raising the general noise level of the hall up a few notches – Moody seemingly
forgotten now with this new bit of information.

“I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent
one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar . . .”
Dumbledore started, but was cut off by Professor McGonagall loudly clearing her throat.
“But some other time, now where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament . . . well some
of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will
forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely,”
Dumbledore said, before continuing on to explain about the Tournament.

Harry tuned the old man out, knowing more than enough about the upcoming tournament
to know that he wasn’t interested.

“The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and the selection
of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which
students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school,
and a thousand Galleons personal prize money,” Dumbledore further explained.

Harry noticed, with amusement, that nearly every Ravenclaw seemed to be frowning in
thought after that explanation. It seemed like each and every one of them were
weighing up the possible pros and cons of entering such an event.

“Now, I know that though most of you are eager to bring the Triwizard Cup to
Hogwarts, you must know, that there is a restriction on contenders. Only students who
are of age, that is to say, seventeen years or older, will be allowed to put forth their
names for consideration,” Dumbledore stated. Many cries of outrage, the loudest coming
from the Gryffindor table, were quite clear in the silence of the Hall.

“This is a measure of precaution, for the tasks will be very dangerous. I will personally
make sure that no underage student will be able to hoodwink our impartial judge into
making him or her our Hogwarts champion. Therefore, I beg you not to waste your time
submitting yourself if you're under seventeen,” Dumbledore added. He then went on to
speak about the other schools, then lessons. Then it was time for the students to be off to
their common rooms.

As they all headed off to their respective common rooms, Harry shook his head in
amusement at how so many people would so carelessly risk their lives for five thousand
pounds – only in the Wizarding world . . .
Chapter: 25
Chapter 26: The Goblet of Fire

“Mate, these NEWT classes are a killer,” Roger Davis plopped down beside Harry in the
Ravenclaw common room with an exasperated sigh – Harry tried his best to ignore him.

“I’m not helping you with your homework,” he pre-emptively answered without looking up
from his book: Magiks and Runes of Ancient Egypt.

“Come on mate,” Roger chuckled nervously, “I just need some help with this
Transfiguration essay, it won’t take you five . . .”

“No.”

Before the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain could ask again, his girlfriend for the week sat on
his lap and kissed him, she seemed rather pleased about something unknown to all but
the two – glowing, even.

Harry looked on in disgust at the scene. Rhona Simmonds, a good looking and flirtatious
sixth year that had filled out during the summer before their fifth year. She’s been taking
advantage of that fact, and the effect she has on hormonal teenage males, ever since.
Harry could have sworn, according to the gossip that was continuously spread around the
castle, that she was with another boy, and shagging him too, at the end of their previous year.

Didn’t take long to get over him though, did it?

Disgusting, in his opinion, and everyone wonders why he’s not interested in the vast
majority of the girls going around these days.

Whatever, he didn’t have to associate with them, thankfully.

“Want to say something, Harry?” Rhona purred from Roger’s lap with a flirtatious grin in
his direction, misinterpreting the look on his face for something other than disgust.

“Yeah, about a million things, but I can’t express myself monosyllabically enough for you
to understand them all,” he replied dryly. He was quite amused when, after several
moments, her face flushed in anger, as she finally understood his jab.

“Hurry up Harry, we’re going to be late for our first defence class,” Archie called out as
he came rushing down the stairs with their books held in each hand, “it should be really
good this year with someone like Moody teaching us, right?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged; Mad-eye Moody, the legendary Auror known throughout Britain
for his viciousness when fighting against the dark, and his excessive paranoia, was to be
their professor during the first year of their NEWT studies.

He had had the displeasure of meeting the man on several occasions when Tonks brought
him with her for a bite to eat during her apprenticeship under him. The man was always
jumpy and glaring at the vampire and werewolf customers at the inn, something they,
and the management, didn’t appreciate all too much.
Leaving the Ravenclaw common room behind, their classmates no doubt very soon to
follow, Archie and Harry made their way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“Hey, where were you at breakfast this morning?” Archie asked his friend as the two
walked at a brisk pace towards class.

“Not there,” Harry replied in a deadpan, Archie rolled his eyes in amusement.

“Right, whatever, you missed something funny though,” he chuckled as he remembered

what he had witnessed, “you know Crabbe and Goyle, two years below us?”

“Draco’s little friends?” Harry replied with faux confusion, as if he didn’t know what was coming.

“Yeah, them,” Archie chuckled “well, Crabbe randomly confessed his love to Goyle right in
the middle of the great hall, tried to snog him too,” he snorted in amusement “the funny
thing though, was that it was the most words anyone had ever heard come out of any of
their mouths. You should have seen Malfoy, he didn’t look too pleased either.”

“Fascinating,” he replied dryly, trying to act indifferent though inwards, he was pleased his
little private payback had succeeded.

The last student rushed into the classroom, mere seconds before the bell sounded and
Moody entered the classroom himself, prompt, and walking with a limp to the front desk,
each step accompanied by the clank of his wooden leg. The grizzly ex-Auror stood at the
front of the class by his desk and glared every student in the room, his magical eye
whizzing around without resting on any singular spot in particular.

“I received a letter from Professor Winters saying that this class in particular has some
real potential – all of you are supposed to be outstanding students, some of the best in
the school, and are supposedly ready for whatever it is I am to teach you,” Moody’s eye
fixated on random people before shifting to a new target after it scrutinized them briefly.

“Dumbledore convinced me to come here and teach you whelps what I know of defence
for the year,” he began in an irritated voice “as NEWT students, all of you must have
achieved good marks to get into this class, but you know what?” he asked, his rough
voice asked softly as he paced at the front of the classroom.

“It means nothing!” he slammed his walking stick into the ground causing most of the
students in the room to jump in fright at the unexpected outburst.

“Do you think your enemies are going to care that you got an Outstanding on some test in
high school when they remove your head clean from your body?” he questioned grimly,
much to the surprise of those in the room “Do you think that, when you’re outnumbered
three to one, your enemies closing in on you with no way out, that they’ll be impressed by
a disarming hex that you perfectly performed in some test?”

His heated speech had captured the undivided attention of everyone in the room; all of
whom were pleased, yet somewhat shocked, by the gritty realism.

“Now, normally the Ministry of Magic would have me teach you the theory behind some
of the more common of the illegal dark arts, but I say different!” he barked loudly, startling
his listeners “You need to know what you’reup against. You need to be prepared. You
need to be alert and watchful – that includes you Potter!”
Harry briefly glanced at Moody at the mentioning of his name. Other than a slight
narrowing of his eyes, he showed no indication of being called out before returning his
gaze back to the afternoon sky.

“I am always a fan of starting at the top,” he resumed his lecture “so, can any of you tell
me which curses are most heavily punished by the law?”

After a few moments of silence, Cedric raised his hand to answer the question. Moody’s
magical eye turned to him before the experienced man pointed to him, indicating for the
boy to speak.

“The Imperius curse, sir,” Cedric answered warily “it allows someone to completely
dominate someone’s mind and control their actions – my father told me about it a while ago.”

“Correct, Mister Diggory, one point to Hufflepuff,” Moody said as he hobbled over to
Cedric’s table “your father would know all about that one, wouldn’t he? Caused a lot of
troubles for the Ministry back during the first rise of ‘You-know-who’.”

Moody hobbled back over to his desk and took out a glass jar that had a fist-sized tarantula
in it. Taking the spider out of the jar and placing it on the table, he pointed his wand at it
before muttering, ‘Imperio!’

Everyone watched, captivated, as Moody had the creature perform several amusing
acrobatics and manoeuvres like dancing, jumping into the window and scaring some of the girl

Some of the students laughed at their reactions until Moody snapped at them “Think it’s
funny do you? What if I did this on a poisonous snake or spider and sent it at them?”

The laughter instantly died down.

“Total control,” he mumbled forlornly as he controlled the spider “I could make it jump out
of a window, drown itself, climb into one of your throats . . .”

Several of the girls in the classroom shivered uncomfortably, Harry, on the other hand,
continued to stare out of the window and not pay attention.

“Several witches and wizards, back in the day, were put under the Imperius curse to
perform the bidding of others,” it was quite clear what he meant by ‘back in the day’ and
‘others’, “Quite the task for the Ministry to sort out who was actually being controlled
and who was faking it, for many claimed to do ‘You-know-who’s bidding while being under
the Influence of the Imperius curse, which couldn’t be further from the truth,” the
atmosphere of the room had become downright morose.

“However,” he interrupted their thoughts “the Imperius curse can be fought, and I’m
going to teach you how. It takes a real strength of character and an iron will, so not
everyone can do it – best try not to get hit by one at all, if you can help it. CONSTANT
VIGILANCE!” he barked, startling the occupants of his class again.

“Can anyone else name one? Another illegal curse?” people seemed hesitant to answer
for some reason, but Archie raised his hand anyway.

“There’s the Cruciatus curse, or the torture curse,” he informed their professor somewhat
reluctantly. Clearly, memories of his mother’s torture before her death were being
brought to the forefront of his mind.

Moody, this time, approached Archie and fixed him with a stare before speaking “Your
name’s Montague?” he asked quietly, receiving a nod from the boy in response “One
point to Ravenclaw,” he hobbled back to his desk and grabbed the spider again, before
enlarging it and placing it on his desk “I need to make him bigger so you can properly see
the effects of the Cruciatus curse,” he said.

Moving out of the way so everyone could see, he pointed his wand at it and muttered,
‘Crucio!’ harshly.

The football sized tarantula rolled onto its back, its legs bent inwards towards its body as
it twitched horribly. If it were capable of noise, it would be howling in pain for certain. The
longer Moody held the spell, the more violently it twitched, until finally, he dropped the
curse and released the spider from its torture.

Archie, Harry noticed, was looking on with a detached interest, his face stony and hiding
any of the emotions he was feeling.

“Pain,” he muttered “why use knives or chemicals to cause it when you can directly attack
their nerves with the Cruciatus curse, the worse pain imaginable – I’ve had it cast on me a
few times before, let me tell you, it isn’t pretty,” some gasped at that revelation while
others continued to listen in silence.

“Right, another one?” none raised their hands this time, seemingly more reluctant than
before so Moody fixed both eyes on Harry “Well Potter? Seeing as you’re too good for us
to pay attention, perhaps you could clue the rest in?”

Harry eyed Moody lazily, not speaking as their eyes locked for several moments before
Harry finally spoke “Avada Kedavra,” he answered dully “the killing curse.”

Moody nodded before turning away swiftly and reaching for the spider again before placing
it in the middle of his table. Fixing his wand on the creature, he glared at it briefly before
roaring ‘AvadaKedavra!’

A flash of blinding green light accompanied by the sound of rushing wind followed the
casting of the spell. It almost immediately impacted with the spider’s body, making it flash
green for the briefest, moments before it fell over, motionless, and unmistakably dead.

“Not nice,” he mumbled “Not pleasant at all, and there’s no counter for it. Only one
person has survived being hit with that curse, and that’s Longbottom, two years below you.”

The room was silent once again, as they waited for the lecture to continue “Perhaps you
can tell us why these particular curses are known as ‘unforgivable’ and earn you a lifetime
stint in Azkaban Potter?”

Annoyed that he was being called on again, Harry sighed irritably before answering, “The
intent to kill, control or torture must be present for the spell to actually work.”

“Oh?” he questioned in amusement “I can’t have the intent to kill you with a cutting curse?”

Harry shook his head in annoyance before answering, he was hoping for a ‘free period’ in
coming to this class, but apparently Moody had other ideas “The cutting curse would
work even without the intent to kill as you cast it,” he explained “however, Avada
Kedavra, Crucio and Imperio will not work unless you explicitly have decided in your mind to
kill, torture or dominate someone. You must intend to do something truly unforgivable to
someone in order for either of those spells to work, else they simply won’t – impressive
that you could cast them yourself so easily, sir.”

Moody ignored the jab and walked back to the head of the class “Ten points to
Ravenclaw,” he said stonily “The Killing curse is a spell that requires an impressive
amount of magic behind it to cast – most of you could all get your wands out, point them
to me and say the words, and I very much doubt it’d work better than a mild bludgeoner.
That doesn’t matter though, because I’m not here to teach you how to do it.

Now, if there’s no counter to this curse, then why, you should ask, am I showing it to
you?” he asked rhetorically “it’s because you need to know about it. You have to
appreciate the worst of the worst you could possibly face out there. You don’t want to
find yourself in a situation out there where you’re facing it – CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” the
class jumped again at the sudden loud voice.

“Sir?” Archie raised his hand to speak “you say there’s no counter to the killing curse, but
couldn’t we just conjure something to block its path? Or transfigure one or many things to
get in the way of us and the spell?” he questioned curiously “the spell is powerful, sure, but
it didn’t seem to have much destructive power behind it, if we used, say, the Avis charm,
couldn’t one of the conjured birds take the hit and completely absorb the spell?”

Total silence met his question as Harry tried to suppress the smirk that was forming on his
lips, especially when Moody seemed to twitch in annoyance.

“You can conjure up something magically resistant enough to stop a Killing curse before it
reaches you then, can you?” Moody asked the brown haired boy, who didn’t answer with
words, merely flicking his eyes over to Harry briefly “and your theory with the birds, it’s
sound in principle, why don’t you try it the next time someone casts it on you – let me
know how it works out.”

Several sniggers were sent Archie’s way at that pseudo challenge; Cedric and Harry didn’t
look too amused however; the former because he agreed with his friend and the latter
because he wasn’t paying attention anymore.

“Why are you all laughing?” he snapped at the giggling students “at least he’s using his
brain and practising constant, everlasting, vigilance! What will you do when someone
shoots a killing curse at you? Laugh at his idea that could possibly work? Write this down!”

It was a ridiculously cold October morning that found Archie and Harry sitting in the great
hall amidst their fellow peers during breakfast. Archie had spent the majority of the
previous night with Cedric in the Hufflepuff common room (he had to be snuck in)
enjoying a good party, thrown for the Hufflepuff boy’s birthday. He hadn’t been to a
good school party in a while, it was fun to go with some friends and have fun like he used to.

Also, as usual, Harry was nowhere to be seen at the party, despite his numerous
invitations from not only Cedric himself, but several other Hufflepuffs. It was to be
expected, but Archie wished that Harry would come and have some fun with him now and
again; it was slightly annoying that the one time Harry had gone some place Archie would
count as ‘fun’, he had taken the hottest girl in the world (except for Stephanie) with him
instead of his best friend!
He really couldn’t blame the Quidditch star though; he would have ditched him for
Stephanie in a second anyway if he were in Harry’s shoes.

Looking over at the boy in question, Harry ate his breakfast distractedly, clearly more
focused on the folder opened before him and its contents than on the food itself.

“What’s that?” Archie asked, wondering what had captured his friend’s interest so.

“A bank statement,” Harry answered without taking his eyes off the page. Archie resisted
the urge to palm his face, Harry had an annoying habit of stating the obvious – it
wouldn’t be nearly as annoying if Archie didn’t know he did it on purpose.

“Does this bank statement relate to anything in particular?” he asked again, patiently,
knowing that getting annoyed will only amuse Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry answered “money.”

“Money from what?!” Archie snapped irritably, wishing he could just punch that smug grin
off Harry’s face – he probably could now, rather effectively, if it weren’t for the fact
that he was shit-scared of any magical retaliation Harry might do to him. There was also
his sword, his sharp, pointy and deadly sword . . .

“MBMC, why so angry Archades?” he asked with fake concern “all you had to do was ask . . .”

“Fucking prat,” he mumbled under his breath “wait a minute, did you say MBMC?” he asked
with interest. He hadn’t been too concerned with the actual numbers, in terms of profit, his
little business had been raking in. Harry had told him and Cedric that it had been going
well, so he saw no need to ask.

“Can I have a look at that?” he asked curiously, irritated that his friend was grinning at
him again “please, you cock-face?”

“Whatever,” Harry tossed the folder over to him, waiting with an amused interest at
what was sure to be his friend’s reaction, “just don’t faint on me and embarrass yourself.”

“Why would I . . .” he never got to finish the question as his eyes locked onto the vault’s
overall balance. Chancing one last look at Harry, he mumbled, “that’s a lot of zeros,”
before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted dead away on the spot, in
the middle of the great hall.

Harry shook his head in annoyance as he levitated his friend’s unconscious form over to
their Defence classroom, they’d be early, sure, but Archie had to wake up anyways.

Ten minutes after they arrived in the DADA classroom, the NEWT Defence students begun
to stroll in. It didn’t take long for Moody himself to hobble in and slam the door shut behind
him, signifying the beginning of the class.

“I told you all that I’d be teaching you how to fight the most darkest of curses,” Moody
began his lecture in stylistic fashion as usual. Flicking his wand, a stack of sheets levitated
up from his desk and split out across the room until there was one on each desk.

“This is . . . “ Archie began in a shocked voice, only for Moody to cut him off.

“Permission slips,” he barked to the shocked group of students “you need to sign them if
you want to learn to fight the Imperius curse, you can’t expect to learn to do it without
experience, can you?”

“You going to cast Unforgivables on us?!” Cedric sounded indignant, Harry wondered why.

“You said doing that would earn you a lifelong ticket to Azkaban!” a Slytherin girl snidely
reminded the professor “that desperate to meet a Dementor are you?”

Moody flinched slightly, much to Harry’s amusement “Dumbledore wants you to know what
it feels like,” he said in his harsh and gruff voice, his magical eye randomly fixating on
people in the room as he walked by them “if you’d rather find out the hard way – when
someone’s putting it on you so they can control you completely – fine by me. Off you go.
You’re excused.”

Harry’s head snapped in Moody’s direction at that, a grin forming on his face “Peace out,”
he tossed his permission slip on the floor and walked straight out of the classroom, leaving
a gaping professor and classroom behind.

“POTTER!” it was too late however, Harry was already long gone.

“Hah!” he exclaimed triumphantly “chicken, just like his father was!”

Archie had to restrain himself from drawing his wand and hexing the man, he was only
slightly disappointed that it wasn’t a full moon.

“You knew Harry Potter’s father?” Fred Weasley spoke up with interest “was he really a
chicken?”

“Hah!” he exclaimed again “a poor duellist too, thought he could win his fights by
conjuring piss-weak barn animals and sending them off to get slaughtered – a joke, if
you ask me!”

“Funny,” Archie spoke up “not last year you were telling us a story of how Mister Potter,
on his Auror entrance exam, was the only one that was able to beat you in a duel
without any Auror training,” he smugly reminded the scarred man “not to mention that
the man took down three of Voldemort’s” there was a flinch in the room at the mention of
his name, some even gasped “inner circle before he died, from what Harry tells me of the
evening, they didn’t stand a chance!”

“Ten points from Ravenclaw for speaking out of turn Montague,” he stalked over to the
Potions expert with both eyes fixed on him with a deadly glare “I know all about your
family too, you know.”

Before anyone else could retort, he was back at the head of the class with his arms
crossed “If any of the rest of you are cowardly enough to just run away from a challenge,
feel free to leave. Those of you who are not, sign your name where asked to and form a
line at the side of the room.”

Nobody else left, not willing to be called a coward by Moody and have that spread around
the school through the rumour mill. Archie set his face into an expressionless mask, not
willing to show any anger at Moody’s mentioning of his family.

After everyone signed their permission slips, they lined up in front of Moody to have the
curse placed on them. Archie was under no illusions as to what was going to happen. He
couldn’t speak for the others, but he doubted Moody would be pulling any punches when
putting it on him.

After several of the students were forced to eventually perform a whole array of
humiliating tasks – the chicken dance, skipping around the room, ridiculous gymnastics
routines, and singing, to name a few – Archie was prepared for his turn.

“Ready Montague?” Moody barked at him and without even waiting for an answer, he
pointed his small wand at Archie and growled, ‘Imperio!’

A sudden feeling of euphoria flooded his senses. Archie felt like he was floating on clouds
as every bothersome thought was wiped from his mind and replaced by complete and utter
bliss. He felt completely relaxed and at ease, only vaguely aware of the classroom
around him as his eyes went out of focus.

Suddenly, a voice started speaking in his head, Moody’s voice, sounding as if he was
listening to him speak through a thick wall, ‘Tell us about your last memory of your mother’
it enticed in a seductive voice, however, at the mentioning of his mother and how this
bastard wanted him to speak of her death to the world – something inside of him snapped.

Snapping out of his daze, he lunged at Moody at punched him straight in the nose with
his werewolf-enhanced strength, sending the crippled ex-Auror sprawling across the floor
and into his desk.

“Mention her again you bastard!” Archie raged as Cedric tried with all his might to restrain
his friend.

“Someone help me!” the Hufflepuff hissed to the rest of the class, his hold on the enraged
boy slipping.

Moody slowly crawled to his feet, his nose now disfigured even more than usual, with a
wicked grin on his face. Two other boys, Roger Davis and Anthony Silvers rushed to aid
Cedric in restraining the snarling boy.

“Let go of me!” Archie snarled “mention her name again in my presence you
son-of-a-bitch!” he roared in fury “I fucking dare you!”

If the class was expecting him to be angry at having his nose completely shattered, they
were sorely mistaken, especially when his grin only increased in size as he applauded the
boy “See that?” he barked triumphantly “Montague broke right through my curse, that
isn’t a feat any of you could boast easily,” he quietened down when he saw the hate in
the boy’s eyes “Diggory, take him to the nurse’s office and get him a calming draught,” his
voice sounding somewhat nasally now.

Cedric eyed his friend warily before nodding at the professor and doing as he asked,
wondering just what had happened to set him off like that.

Cedric and Archie had found Harry spending his ‘free-period’ outside on the grounds near
the entrance to the great hall reading a book under a tree.

“So you punched him in the nose?” Harry asked with amusement, breaking the few
moments of contemplative silence that followed the explanation of what happened “You
should have kicked him in his only good leg, that would have been funny.”
Archie grinned sheepishly “I wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind at the time,” he
shrugged helplessly before grinning “if I was, I probably would have tried to find out
what Steph finds so fascinating about kneeing people in the groin.”

“I know what you mean,” Cedric winced “I learned that the hard way when I tried to peek
on her in the shower,” he spoke before thinking; only when he realized Harry’s amused
stare and Archie’s angry glare did he realize what he’d said.

“You did what?” Archie asked his friend angrily.

“Huh?” Cedric asked with faux confusion.

“What did you just say?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked again, adopting one of Sirius’ favourite
‘get-out-of-trouble’ strategies – deny, deny, deny – “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did,” Archie insisted angrily “you just said you tried to peek on Stephanie!”

“No,” he shook his head with a frown “I definitely didn’t say that – why would I do
something like that?”

“I have enhanced senses moron, I heard what you said!”

“That’s probably a side-effect from whatever Madam Pomfrey gave you,” he shrugged,
grasping at straws “because I didn’t say anything.”

“There’s no side-effect to calming draughts!” Archie snapped angrily.

“There must be, because I didn’t say – hey Harry, where’re you going?” Cedric asked a
little too eagerly, glad to change the topic. Indeed, Harry was walking away from the
arguing duo.

“Inside?” Harry raised an eyebrow “it’s this way,” he pointed at the castle.

Archie and Cedric hurried after Harry through the front door of the castle to see a large
group of students all talking excitedly while crowded around the noticeboard.

Approaching the board, the three were able to see what everyone seemed to be so
excited about:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday
the 30th of October. Lessons will be ending half an hour earlier to accommodate for this.
Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories before assembling out the
front of the castle to welcome our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

“Only a week away!” a younger Hufflepuff excitedly exclaimed, “Think I should go and let
Cedric know?”

“Cedric?” Ron Weasley asked with a frown before Cedric could let his fellow housemate
know that he was well aware already.
“Diggory, mate,” Neville said with exasperation, “Hufflepuff Quidditch captain, ring any bells?”

“I know who he is,” Ron snapped irritably, “That idiot? The Hogwarts Champion?” he
scoffed at the thought as Cedric frowned at the boy.

“I suppose you’d be better then?” Cedric asked with a grin, several people who
recognized his voice spun around to see him, shock in their eyes. Ron was not one of
those fortunate enough to realize this fact.

“Of course,” Ron scoffed without turning around “If I could enter, anyway, my brothers
will have to do though. Anything’s better than a Hufflepuff,” he shook his head as
Hermione was making slashing motions at her throat, trying to indicate to Ron to shut up.

“He’s one of the top students of the year,” Archie reminded Ron, who still, unbelievably,
hadn’t turned around. However, at that last point, he turned around ready to retort when
he finally spotted Cedric and paled at the sight.

“Hello Ronald,” he pleasantly greeted “how’s it going, old chap?”

Ron couldn’t form a complete sentence, sputtering incoherently with a face flushed with
embarrassment instead. It was quite the sight to behold, especially when his own friends
and family nearby were palming their faces at his stupidity.

“Hey, you,” Harry addressed the bushy haired girl before him with a frown – the girl’s
face flushed in embarrassment when the smartest boy in the school spoke to her “did you
know that you’re wearing a badge that says spew?”

As everyone turned their attention on her, she seemed to become even more flustered
“It’s not spew,” she corrected in a small voice “It’s S – P – E – W. It stands for the Society
for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, would you like to join?”

“It says spew,” Harry deadpanned, ignoring her question.

The girl, Hermione, from memory, bristled, but continued on regardless “We have three
members already, perhaps if you joined, people may listen to us!” she asked him with
hopefuleyes.

“The badge says spew.”

“I think she knows what it says mate,” Archie reminded him with a grin, Hermione only
seemed to flush further when she realized just who was speaking to her.

“I don’t think so, you see?” Harry pointed to her chest “she’s wearing a badge that says spew.”

Hermione pulled a piece of parchment out of her ass – or so Harry assumed – before
speaking again “I’ve been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes
back centuries, I can’t believe no one’s done anything about it!”

“And you plan to force a whole race of creatures out of their chosen form of lifestyle by
wearing a badge that says spew?”

Hermione bristled once again at Harry’s tone, “They don’t know better!”
“So, your pitch to me is that you want me to wear a badge that says spew because House
Elves are too stupid to know what’s good for them,” Harry nodded thoughtfully “Lizzy?”

A few brief moments passed before Lizzy, Harry’s caretaker since he was a child, popped
right beside them.

“Master Harry! Mister Awesome! What is it yous wants with Lizzy?” she said with a small
frown with her hands on her hips “I is busy, yous know!”

“Mister Awesome?” Harry asked Archie with amusement, the boy just shrugged.

“I can’t help it that she calls it like she sees it . . .”

“You have a House Elf?!” Hermione screeched indignantly, “You own a slave?!”

“You hear that Lizzy?” Harry asked the confused elf “This girl thinks you’re too stupid to
make your own decisions, and tries to get you all freed by wearing a badge that says spew.”

Hermione’s frustrated cry of ‘it doesn’t say spew’ fell on deaf ears as Lizzy looked at her
in shock.

“Yous is trying to get Lizzy fired?” she squeaked angrily before popping away suddenly.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” Archie said giddily, “You’re about to get an Elfish beat-down.”

“What are you – OW!” Hermione rubbed her head in bewilderment as she felt a sudden
pain spark at the back of her head “what in the . . . “

“Yous is calling Lizzy stupid and is trying to get Lizzy fired!” the enraged little elf squeaked
at Hermione as she smacked the girl with her little wooden spoon over and over again.

“I’m trying to help you,” she pleaded helplessly “you’re a slave right now!”

“Is not wants your helps!” she squeaked in outrage “yous mind your own business, bad,
bad girl!”

“See you later Lizzy,” Harry walked off, leaving Hermione to get an elfish beat-down for
her efforts to stop House Elf ‘slavery’.

“Don’t forget to tell Remus where you are if you stay for much longer,” Archie reminded
the elf with a grin before he went to follow Harry. Cedric remained behind to watch the
scene in amusement, as did many others who had also come to see the noticeboard.

The days leading up to the arrival of the foreign schools were filled with anticipation and
excitement. Many of the students at Hogwarts had barely seen anything out of the British
Isles, let alone students from another magical school. The excitement brought on by the
quickly approaching Triwizard tournament, too, was almost palpable as students and
professors alike were gossiping about potential champions and tasks.

Even the professors were on edge at the idea of hosting two foreign schools for the
remainder of the school year. Professor McGonagall would snap at any student making
foolish mistakes in her class, rather then explain what they had done wrong like they
usually would, while Professor Sprout was looking extremely tired and haggard from trying
to increase the quality of her greenhouses before they were used by the other schools.

Cedric, having expressed his wishes to become the Hogwarts champion, had been trying
extra hard in his classes, while touching up on his excellent Transfiguration abilities in his
spare time – which was now quite plentiful with the cancelling of the inter-house
Quidditch tournament. Many would laugh at him for trying to increase that particular skill
of his rather than try and learn more curses and hexes, but Cedric knew better; after all,
the greatest wizards in both history and today were quite adept at that particular branch
of magic – Merlin, Helga Hufflepuff and Albus Dumbledore to name a few.

Archie, unlike Cedric, rarely, if ever, found himself with spare time. If he wasn’t doing
his homework from his NEWT classes, he was researching the theory behind the ideas in
the book Lucile gave him, as well as working out ways in which he could put it to practise.
Any free time he could have possibly had was spent reading through a book on
Occlumency Harry had lent him by request, knowing that, now, with his change in
situation, complete control of over mind was imperative. His episode with Moody back in
the DADA classroom was evidence of that.

The evening in which the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegates were scheduled to
arrive found the majority of the school standing out by the castle entrance near the great
lake. The seventh years were exempt from any compulsory activities the rest of the
school must abide by due to it being their final NEWT year, however, some had seen it fit
to make their way down and witness the much-anticipated event.

“I’m freezing my balls off out here,” Archie said in a shivering voice, “why didn’t I think to
bring a warming potion?”

Harry rolled his eyes and discreetly cast a warming charm on his friend “Wow,” he
exclaimed sarcastically “that was hard.”

Archie let out a sigh of relief as warmth spread to every part of his body due to the
charm Harry cast, “Thanks mate,” he shook his head with a grin “I probably should have
paid attention during that particular Charms lesson.”

“Or you could read a book that doesn’t involve Potions for once in your life?” Harry
countered unhelpfully “that one was in the third year book, dumb-ass.”

“Hey,” Archie turned to Harry, trying to think of something witty to say “shut-up.”

Harry snorted in amusement as a spec on the horizon caught everyone’s attention. It

was much too small to exactly tell who or what it was though.

“Is that a flying carriage?” Archie wondered out loud as the students around them looked
to him in confusion – it was still much too far away to tell.

Harry touched the side of his glasses softly before speaking “Yes,” he squinted his eyes
reflexively “it’s being carried by winged horses – must be Beauxbatons.”

“How can you see it?” Archie whispered to Harry who merely grinned at him in response
“you know why I can.”

“I’m just that good Archades,” Harry pat the taller boy on his head “I’m just that good.”

“You’re an idiot, is what you are,” Archie scoffed in amusement “I think I know what you
did anyway, I just didn’t know enchanting was one of the abilities in your skills repertoire.”

“Idiot, am I now?” Harry smirked at his friend “you know, they made us bring dress robes
this year, there must be some kind of ball – I’m thinking of asking Stephanie, she’s come
into her own rather nicely, if I must say so . . .”

Archie punched his friend in the arm lightly as Harry hid his wince “Don’t even joke about
that,” Archie grinned at his friend “besides, I know where your attention will be this year,
ah, and there she is right now.”

During their conversation, the incoming carriage transporting the Beauxbatons students
to Hogwarts had landed before having the single door open slowly. From the open door,
an impossibly tall woman strode out and allowed Dumbledore to kiss her hand. From
behind her, students dressed in pale blue robes made of fine silk strode out, however, two
girls in particular caught Harry’s and Archie’s attention.

A girl with flowing silver-blonde hair strode alongside a girl with ebony locks. Archie’s
eyes were glued to the girl who was unmistakably Stephanie while Harry looked on in
amusement – the girls’ uniforms at Beauxbatons were definitely flattering; especially
compared to the Hogwarts’ ones.

The way in which every teenage male in the general vicinity stared dumbly at Fleur was
what Harry found amusing – they wouldn’t be staring like that if they knew how annoying
she could be; or maybe they would, if they were thinking with their ‘other’ heads.

As the Beauxbatons students made their way into the castle, no doubt to unpack before
the welcoming feast that evening, the mast of an old Frigate style ship broke the surface
of the water in the Great Lake. The mast was followed by the rest of the ship soon after,
revealing an almost skeletal looking sailing ship with ghastly looking sails and portholes lit
with candlelight, serving to add to the overall macabre look about it.

The ship sailed over as close to the shore as possible until a wooden plank was dropped
onto the shore so that the inhabitants of the ghostly looking ship could disembark onto the
land. A tall and thin man looking man dressed in warm looking clothes lined with silver fur,
much like his hair, stepped off the wooden plank and approached Dumbledore to engulf him
in a friendly hug as they spoke amongst themselves.

The students were all dressed in heavy over cloaks lined with dark fur. It was easy to see
that they were much more accustomed to the cold then their French counterparts.

“Look, it’s Krum,” a fourth year girl pointed out as none other than Viktor Krum got off one
of the boats and approached the castle, his peers following close behind.

“Hey,” Archie spoke up “maybe people won’t bug you as much for autographs now that
Krum is here?” he tried to sound hopeful, but the group of girls not three meters from their
position, pointing and giggling at them said otherwise.

“Oh well, one can always hope,” Archie sniggered at Harry’s annoyance.

“Whatever, let’s go eat, I’m hungry,” he hadn’t eaten all day, preferring to avoid the
Great Hall and his adoring fans whenever possible. Now, however, he was just too
hungry to care, a feast with his name on it was waiting for him in the Great Hall.
The students were all seated in the Great Hal that evening, waiting for the foreign
students to get settled and make their way down so that the feast could begin. The hall,
and the tables themselves, was magically enlarged as to accommodate for their guests.

Finally, when everyone was seated and the preparations complete, Dumbledore rose from
his chair to address the students.

“For those of you who didn’t listen, or have forgotten since I told you last, this year,
Hogwarts will play host to the Triwizard tournament,” he began merrily, despite the fact
that everyone knew this, they remained quite nonetheless to hear what the headmaster
had to say “A single champion will be chosen from each school to compete in a series of
magical contests, very dangerous magical contests at that. Now, let me be clear when I
say this, if chosen, you stand alone, and trust me when I say that these contests are not
for the faint hearted or ill prepared. More on that later though, for now, please join me
in welcoming the exquisite students of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic along with their
headmistress, Madam Maxime.”

The doors of the Great Hall burst open revealing a smiling Madam Maxime followed by ten
or so students. Not far behind the large headmistress were Stephanie, Fleur and
Gabrielle, being the only three Archie recognized of the group.

“Don’t look now, but there’s Jacques at the back,” Harry murmured to Archie under his
breath. Indeed, on further inspection, the recently dubbed ‘super-douche’ was bringing
up the rear with what the brown haired boy could only assume to be his friends.

“I’m going to enjoy this year,” Archie grinned maliciously as Harry snorted in amusement.

The tall Beauxbatons headmistress made her way over to the head table where she took
a seat beside Rubeus Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, the Beauxbatons
students however, made their way over to the Ravenclaw table to find themselves some
seats. Archie found his heartbeat steadily increasing as Stephanie approached them with
Fleur and Gabrielle following close behind.

“Hey Archie,” Stephanie greeted him with a hug as the other students made themselves
comfortable at the Ravenclaw table “we’ve been situated in the Ravenclaw tower so we’ll
be sitting over here with you lot.”

“Don’t sound too disappointed Stephanie,” Harry replied as he eyed Archie in amusement.

Archie was glaring at Roger who was seated directly beside them and eyeing Fleur with
lust clearly in his eyes “Move bitch,” Archie barked angrily “the lady wants a seat.”

Seeing as he was not going to get a reaction out of the boy, Archie shoved him across
so Stephanie could sit beside him “Oh look Steph, this seat’s free.”

Stephanie took the seat with a grin as Fleur and Gabrielle sat directly across from them, a
mere look from Harry was more than enough to get his peers to make sure they were free.

“Potter,” Fleur greeted him as she took her seat pointedly ignoring the stares she was
attracting from practically every heterosexual male in the hall.

“Fleur,” he tilted his head thoughtfully “It’s Potter now? You wound me,” he grinned as
she looked down at him with faux superiority.
“I ‘ave been instructed by a valuable source zat you are a bad influence,” she eyed her
sister with amusement as the little girl was glaring at her ex-hero, no doubt still angry at
his thoughts on bunny rabbits.

“Don’t be like that Gabby,” he said in the kindest voice he could muster “I only said that
because I was feeling rather ill on that particular day,” he discreetly took a fork under the
table as he was speaking, his absurd – for him – behaviour demanding enough attention
that no one but Fleur noticed “here, I got you a present, forgive me?”

Gabrielle looked ecstatic that her idol had finally seen the light and apologised while
everyone else was looking at Harry as if he’d grown a second head. Fleur, in particular,
looked rather amused.

“What in Merlin’s name Harry – wait, Gabby, don’t open that!” it was too late however as
the girl had eagerly torn into her gift, the prospect of possibly receiving an engagement
ring from her beloved exciting the young part-Veela beyond belief.

Gabby opened the box and let out a shocked gasp. The girls watching on looked in
eagerly, wondering what Harry Potter could have gotten the little girl – those that did
immediately wish they hadn’t, for within the box lay a severed rabbit head.

Gabrielle let out an ear-piercing shriek as Harry quickly Transfigured the box, and its
contents, back into a fork before anyone could notice what was inside. Fleur was making
placating hand motions over to Madam Maxime, who had franticly risen from her seat at
the sound of the young girl’s distress.

Archie and Stephanie palmed their faces as Fleur was trying to soothe her crying little
sister, not looking angered in the least by Harry’s trick, merely amused.

“You know, shouldn’t you be a little angry at what Harry did?” Archie asked the beautiful
blonde girl, who just shrugged nonchalantly at the claim, Gabrielle had ran off to sit with
some of the other students at the Ravenclaw table, ones closer to her age and more
bunny-friendly.

“She ‘as been an annoying little brat for zee entire trip from France,” she smirked in
Harry’s direction, who was the perfect picture of innocence right then “she got what she
deserved.”

Many of the people listening in to their conversation on the Ravenclaw table looked at
the two boys with envy at how familiar they were with the two beautiful girls. Fleur’s
natural Veela charm seemed to be working wonders already though, with boys staring at
her lustfully while girls looked at her balefully.

“You should probably work on reigning in that aura,” Harry quipped as Dumbledore went
to address the hall again.

“And now, would you please join my in welcoming our friends form the North, the proud
sons of Durmstrang, and their high master, Igor Karkaroff!”

The Durmstrang students, lead by Karkaroff, strode into the hall; their fur-lined cloaks
had been removed now that they were within the warmer castle, showing off robes of
blood red. Like the Beauxbatons students, the ten or so Durmstrang ones quickly chose
to take a seat at the Slytherin table.
Viktor Krum looked to be scanning the hall, as if looking for someone. When he found
what he was looking for, many people were surprised to see him give a polite nod to
Harry Potter, especially after the boy practically single-handedly won the Quidditch
World Cup for England, and in doing so, beat Bulgaria.

“The tournament will officially begin after the feast,” Dumbledore’s voice broke out across
the hall “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home! Don’t be afraid
to speak with our guests, it may, of course, be a valuable learning experience for you both!”

With that said, the aged headmaster clapped his hands, immediately filling the platters
with food, as usual. However, the selection was much larger than usual, it seems the
house elves had outdone themselves. Harry recognized a few French and German native
cuisines amidst the standard chicken, pudding and potatoes.

“Could you please pass me zee Bouillabaisse?” Fleur asked Roger Davis with a large smile
that didn’t quite look natural combined with the mischievous looks she was sending Harry.

“T-this one?” Roger asked with an uncharacteristic stutter. Roger Davis was Ravenclaw’s
answer to Casanova, being a regular flirt with the majority of the girls in the school, to
be reduced to a stuttering pile of goo under Fleur’s gaze was a testament to the girl’s beauty.

“Yes, thank you,” she smiled benignly at him as his face flushed further.

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance before looking over to Roger and saying, “Roger,
pass me the potatoes.”

“There’s a plate of potatoes right in front of . . .” he didn’t finish his sentence for he was
on the receiving end of one of Harry’s super glares.

“Right, u-um, I didn’t want a-any anyway,” he chuckled nervously as he passed Harry the
platter of potatoes that he didn’t need, much to the displeasure of those around him.

Stephanie snorted at the spectacle and leaned in to whisper something to the extremely
uncomfortable Archie (those damn Beauxbatons school robes were magnificent!) “Those
two were made for each other.”

“Shh,” Archie shushed her, getting over his unease when he remembered he was speaking
with, in reality, his first and best friend ever since he was a child. Just because she was
incredibly beautiful, had the prettiest eyes, nicest face, perfect jaw-line, wonderful breasts
. . . “don’t let him hear you, he’ll probably never let it happen just in spite you if he thinks
you’re talking about his love life.”

“Or lack thereof, according to you,” Stephanie grinned “these girls around here look really
pretty since the last time I saw them, you sure you haven’t had a shot at any of them?”
she asked teasingly.

She missed Archie’s mumble of ‘not as pretty as some’ as he coughed to cover it “Nah,”
he shrugged nonchalantly “they’re not my cup of tea, you know?”

“And what is your cup of tea then?” she asked with a grin. Archie quickly changed the
subject though, not willing to answer that question and possibly make her feel
uncomfortable in front of all these people.

“Look at how all these idiots are looking at Fleur and you,” Archie joked lamely “must get
annoying, huh?”

Stephanie shrugged “You get used to it,” she glared over at Jacques, who was eyeing her
with a frown “sometimes, it can get rather annoying.”

“He still bothering you?” he asked seriously as Stephanie laughed, the sound was like
music to Archie’s ears.

“I’m not a hopeless little girl anymore Archie,” she winked at him, causing the boy to
become flustered “I can take care of myself, and besides, if I get attacked like I did at
the World Cup again, I got you to save me, right?”

Archie chuckled, the flush never really leaving his face as she started to feel hot under the
collar “Right, of course,” when did talking to Stephanie become so hard? Did he become
even more attracted to her since she left for Beauxbatons?

No, he didn’t think that was entirely true. Maybe he was just in love with her personality
before she left, and now that she came back after so long, looking more beautiful than
any other girl he’d ever laid eyes on, he’d become extremely physically attracted to her as well.

“’Ow long do you think it will take for zose two to finally get together?” Fleur disguised the
question by putting the goblet to her mouth and taking a drink immediately after asking. If
it weren’t for the loud and excited chatter going on around them, and the fact that
Archie’s attention was completely devoted to Stephanie, he probably would have heard
the blonde.

“End of the year,” Harry shrugged lazily “she knows she likes him, and not in a platonic
way either, she just has to admit it to herself,” they both chanced a glance at the
soon-to-be couple “all it will take is for Archie to do something not stupid in regards to
her, and she’ll realize it.”

“’Ow very insightful of you,” Fleur grinned “I didn’t peg you for one to look into other
people’s love lives so closely.”

Harry scoffed “Hardly,” he motioned over to the talking duo “that doesn’t take any skill at
all to read, it’s so bloody obvious.”

“Unfortunately,” Fleur sighed “she ‘as seen Archie as a brother type figure for so long, zat
it is ‘ard for ‘er to see ‘im as anything different.”

“I guess,” Harry shrugged, somewhat uncomfortably, before deciding to change the

subject “those robes don’t flatter you at all, someone with your figure should be wearing a
nice tight dress or nothing at all – I happen to have nothing at all back in my room if you’re
interested.”

Fleur snorted in amusement, not angered in the slightest by Harry’s crude remark “Do
you always make lewd comments when zee conversation you are ‘aving with someone
turns to uncomfortable grounds?”

“No,” Harry shook his head “that’s only with people I’m sexually attracted to, otherwise, I
usually just glare at people when it happens– works just as well.”

“I see,” Fleur smirked at him “you just did it again.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged carelessly, with amusement dancing in his eyes “just eat your
fish soup, wench.”

Fleur let out an amused snort, pleased with her minor victory, as rare as it was, before
doing as Harry suggested and finishing her meal.

“Oh they are so hot for each other,” Archie shook his head “I give it two months.”

“One and a half,” Stephanie nodded to herself confidently “Two months is too long, it’s
just past Christmas, if anything happens between them two, it’ll definitely be before Christmas.”

“We’ll see,” Archie chuckled, not willing to put money on anything when it regarded Harry;
his friend was just too unpredictable for something like that to be profitable.

“The moment has come,” said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces.
“The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of
explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be
following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mister
Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation” - there
was a smattering of polite applause as everyone’s attention was drawn to the two
strangers seated at the head table along with the professors – “and Mister Ludo
Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps
because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He
acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave
when his name was announced. The man’s toothbrush moustache and severe parting
looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

“Mister Bagman and Mister Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on
the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “and they will be
joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the
champions' efforts.”

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students
seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled
as he said, “The casket, then, if you please, Mister Filch.”

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall in his mouldy old tailcoat,
now approached Dumbledore, carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It
looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students,
mainly though, Harry noticed, from the Gryffindor table – bloody glory hunters.

“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been
examined by Mister Crouch and Mister Bagman,” said Dumbledore as Filch placed the
chest carefully on the table before him, “and they have made the necessary
arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school
year, and they will test the champions in many different ways . . . their magical prowess -
their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be
breathing.

“As you know, three champions compete in the tournament,” Dumbledore went on calmly,
“one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they
perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task
three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector:
the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The
lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly
hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the
brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would
be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school
clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet,” said Dumbledore. "Aspiring
champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night,
Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to
represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will
be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.”

“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation,” continued Dumbledore, “I will
be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance
hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line,” general mutterings
of disapproval filled the hall at the reminder of the age requirement.

“Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not
to be entered into lightly. Once the Goblet of Fire has selected a champion, he or she is
obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet
constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have
become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly
prepared to compete before you drop your name into the goblet,” the grave message
sapped all the excitement out of the hall, however, Dumbledore broke the silence again
when he spoke once more in his usual jovial tone “Now, I think it is time for bed. Good
night to you all.”

“Well, that was fun,” Archie exclaimed jovially with his arms wrapped around Harry and
Stephanie’s shoulders. Harry, slowly and deliberately, removed the offending appendage
from his shoulder with a sour look on his face as Stephanie merely shook her head in
exasperation.

“You entering Steph? You’re seventeen now, right?” Archie asked, the worry in his voice
clearly apparent, though she seemed not to take notice. Friends cared for your welfare,
after all, it meant nothing like that.

“Nope, I’m kind of studying to be a healer, I’m not cut out for this sort of this,” Stephanie
shrugged before turning to Fleur “Fleur is though, she’ll get picked for sure.”

“Must be a poor standard at Beauxbatons if you’re so sure about that,” Harry interrupted
dryly, earning a glare from Fleur.

“Or it could mean that Fleur is just that good,” Stephanie shot back with a teasing grin.

Harry looked over to Fleur as the quartet made their way, slowly, towards the large doors
leading out to the entrance hall – there seemed to be a hold up of some sorts – “Or
everyone else is just that bad,” he quipped, earning a twin glare from both Stephanie and
Fleur this time.

“I don’t see you trying to enter, Potter,” she reminded the spectacled teen coldly, he
didn’t seem to be affected by her tone though.

“Waste of time,” he shrugged “winner only gets one thousand galleons, what kind of shit
prize is that for putting your life on the line? No thanks,” he shook his head “if it were
one hundred thousand galleons prize money, that would be a different story.”

“Cedric’s going to enter for Hogwarts,” Archie informed the two girls “he’ll get it for sure –
hanging around us has made him a fairly decent wizard.”

“Compared to the other idiots around here anyways,” Harry reminded Archie.

“Ouch,” Archie chuckled “you’re not in a happy mood tonight.”

Harry shrugged helplessly “I’m tired, I get particularly cynical when I’m tired.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Fleur whispered to Stephanie sarcastically, as the two shared a soft laugh.

“Whispering is just rude,” Archie informed with a frown “unless it’s girl business, which
you’re more than welcome to share with me too, you know,” he exclaimed, almost a little
too eagerly. The girls promptly ignored his comment, which Harry was slightly
disappointed about, he was hoping for another knee in the groin for that, just like the
good old days.

“I wonder who’ll get in for Durmstrang,” Archie wondered out loud, Fleur and Stephanie,
not knowing anything about the other school’s students, shrugged helplessly, just as
clueless as he on the matter.

“Krum will,” Harry informed them surprisingly “I’ve spoken to him a few times before, he’s
powerful in his own right, compared to the rest of those monkeys anyway,” a
Durmstrang student with the front of his blood red robes covered in food walked by
them, accentuating his point perfectly “better watch out for him if you get in Fleur,
Durmstrang put a particularly strong emphasis on battle magic and duelling – he’s quite
good at both.”

“And you think I’m not?” Fleur asked haughtily “you know nothing of my skills.”

Harry shrugged, choosing not to respond to her question at all.

“How have you been dealing with your little problem, by the way?” Stephanie suddenly
asked Archie, it was crystal clear to the four exactly what she was talking about.

“We found I place I can stay shacked up in during those times,” Archie shrugged “I’ve used
it twice already, it works fairly well.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said “hope nobody finds out, that would be bad . . .”

“Finds out what?” Fred Weasley piped up from behind them, all too intrigued by the
prospect of a secret.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” his brother followed up the line of questioning
with one of his own.

“A way to bypass the age line, perhaps?” Fred sounded a little too gleeful by the prospect.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, before the others could deny their claims “I was going to try an
aging potion, it’s so dim witted and simple that Dumbledore would have surely overlooked it.”

The twins looked at each other with dawning comprehension while Archie tried very, very
hard not to laugh.

“That’s brilliant Potter!” George Weasley exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, we owe you one – we have some brewing to do, brother of mine,” Fred said.

“Indeed we do, my most handsome partner in crime,” George said.

“Oh stop, we all know you’re the better looking one,” Fred said.

“You flatter me,” George replied “let’s call it even and say that we’re both sexy devils.”

“I can live with that,” Fred exclaimed happily as the two skipped off to god knows where.

“I can’t believe zey fell for that,” Fleur frowned in disapproval “’Ogwarts students are not
terribly smart, it seems.”

“Nah,” Archie waved off her comment casually “we’re plenty smart, it’s just cruel bastards
like Harry picking on the less fortunate.”

“Not my fault they’re stupid,” Harry shrugged “it’s what they get for being Rangas, the
orange hurts my eyes.”

“Harsh,” Stephanie chuckled “I suppose I’d get tired of the colour too though if I had to
see it every day – I feel sorry for whichever parent isn’t the red-head.”

“They both are,” Harry and Archie replied simultaneously “they’re seven of them too,
unfortunately,” Harry added.

“Ouch,” Stephanie winced as Fleur chuckled.

They had finally made it back to the Ravenclaw tower, where the Beauxbatons students
were also going to be staying. It seemed that the three male students from Beauxbatons
were to be sharing a dorm room with the sixth year boys . . .

“You’re not sleeping in our room,” Archie threw Jacques out of the room, along with his
two buddies, before throwing three pillows and blankets at them through the door
“Honestly, you should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity and not just getting
payback on you in your sleep – the couches are that way.”

The three French boys glared angrily at Archie but accepted nonetheless, it’s not like the
couches in the Ravenclaw common room looked terribly uncomfortable anyway, and they
wouldn’t have to share a room with those English pigs to boot!

“What’s up with you and Harry?” Stephanie asked as she settled into her bed beside
Fleur’s. The two, with the four other female students, were split into two groups and sent
into the sixth or seventh year girls’ dorm rooms “You’ve taken quite the interest in flirting
with him, like, all the time now.”

“I am not flirting,” Fleur said indignantly “I am merely allowing him to enjoy my company,
besides,” She shrugged “despite his crude sense of humour, he is rather funny a lot of the time

“Oh my god,” Stephanie exclaimed with a huge grin “you have a crush on Harry Potter!”

“Shh!” Fleur hissed at her friend angrily “What do you think you’re doing shouting out a
thing like that around here! You know someone can overhear you easily!”

“You didn’t deny it,” Stephanie smugly reminded her.

“That’s because there is nothing to deny, there is simply nothing between us,” Fleur
grinned as the perfect payback entered her mind “unlike Archie and yourself, of course.”

“Archie is just a really good friend!” Stephanie snapped; she seemed flustered “will you
stop mentioning that, by the way? I told you about our situation already.”

“And I told you that you’re an idiot,” Fleur grinned at her friend “hopefully you’ll realize it
before it’s too late – okay, okay, stop!” fleur laughed as he dodged pillows from
Stephanie “I won’t mention it anymore if you stop mentioning me liking Potter, I just ate
dinner after all!”

Stephanie snorted and settled down into her bed, tomorrow would be a big day, she was
sure of it.

As it was a Saturday – the day of Halloween – students would normally head down to
breakfast later than usual, seeing as there were no classes and everyone enjoyed
sleeping in. This didn’t seem to be the case however, now that the Goblet of Fire was
waiting for potential champions to put their names in the Great Hall.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t wait until tonight,” Harry yawned into his hand, Archie had
practically dragged him down to the hall at nine o’clock to watch people put their names in
the goblet. The Durmstrang lot had mostly put their names in already – he didn’t know
why, Krum was going to get it anyway.

“I wanted to see all the trouble your little trick will cause,” Archie grinned, “you do know
that Weasleys four and five weren’t the only ones who heard what you said about the
aging potion, right?”

“Oh,” Harry said, surprised “I totally forgot about that, to be honest.”

The Goblet of Fire was still placed where Dumbledore had left it last night, except now,
there was a single golden ring going around it, ten feet or so in all directions.

“Impressive age line,” Harry observed carefully “the runes used aren’t even visible, but
they have to be within the ring somehow, maybe under one of the tiles?”

“I was thinking about that too,” Archie confessed “I doubt Dumbledore would be allowed
to do anything to the box, so I’d probably agree with you.”

Archie, Harry and a few dozen students or so, hung around as people approached the
Goblet to put their names up for consideration. Three people had been caught trying to
bypass the age line so far, all three using the age potion Harry had joked about last
night. There were two Ravenclaw fifth years and a Hufflepuff sixth year.

“Impressive beards,” Archie joked as three Durmstrang students put their names in “you
think Dumbledore made the ward do that?”

“Probably,” Harry shrugged “the beards do look remarkably like his own.”

Just then, Fleur and Stephanie finally arrived in the Great Hall, Gabrielle not too far
behind them. The little girl sprinted towards the duo and launched herself at Archie,
pointedly ignoring Harry.

“Archie!” she squealed, not having had a proper chance to greet him last night due to
certain circumstances “I am sorry for not saying hello last night, forgive me?” those damn
big blue eyes, ones just like her sister’s only, cute, rather than beautiful, were practically
shining with unshed tears.

“No problem Gabby,” he chuckled as her fake tears instantly disappeared only to be
replaced with a large beaming smile. The girl instantly launched herself onto his back,
hugging him around the neck and forcing Archie to give her a piggyback again. She seemed
to like situating herself there.

“Gabrielle,” Fleur scolded irritably “It isn’t proper for a lady to behave in such a way in
public, this isn’t like back at the inn we stayed at in the summer.”

“A lady needs her noble steed,” she giggled at her own little joke “Archie is my steed, so it
is proper,” the reasoning was perfectly sound if you asked her.

Fleur shrugged nonchalantly “I tried,” she turned a grin onto the others “Mother and
Father cannot be annoyed with me for not trying to dissuade her now, yes?”

“Is that a question?” Harry deadpanned “what the hell is that?” he reverted back to
English in shock at what was in Fleur’s hand.

“It is a bit of parchment with my name on it, I will be entering it into the Goblet,” Indeed,
in her hand was a bit of parchment, but it was the frilliest, scented and overall disgusting
bit of parchment he’d ever seen.

“That is, without a doubt, the most homosexual thing I’ve ever seen,” Harry just couldn’t
take his eyes off it, it was just so, so, what the hell?!

“How can it be homosexual if I am not a boy?” she hotly replied “besides, with this bit of
parchment, I will be able to tell if I am chosen before my name is announced – it sticks out, no?

“It definitely sticks out,” Archie put it rather mildly “hey look, I think Krum’s about to put
his name in.”

Indeed, the Bulgarian international seeker was striding up to the Goblet confidently
before casually dropped his bit of parchment into the flames. Harry noticed, with
amusement, that he smiled down at the Elf-rights girl after doing so.

Noticing Harry and having finished eye-fucking Hermione, Viktor made his way over to
Harry, his hands interlaced behind his back with his chest puffed out as he walked, it
looked rather militaristic, now that Harry thought about it.

“Potter,” he greeted “Potter’s friends,” Harry smirked at the Quidditch star’s greeting. He
spoke with an accent Harry couldn’t quite place; German or Slavic would be his guess.

“I prefer to call them my minions Viktor,” he quipped, ignoring the glared the four others
present sent him.

“I do not understand,” he said with a puzzled frown as Harry waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he looked over to the Goblet, Cedric had just put his name inside
while surrounded by his Hufflepuff friends who were all laughing and cheering, “how was
your country’s reaction to Bulgaria’s loss?”

Krum winced slightly as he recalled that particular event “Not so good,” he answered,
“they vere most displeased by our loss, they demanded the cup next time though – luckily
for us, you vill not be playing.”

The two international Quidditch stars chatting about their sport of choice, obviously,
attracted the attention of everyone in the room. None of them, however, were brave
enough to approach them or do anything about it.

“England’s going to be getting a few new players before the next tournament, a new
seeker too, most likely,” Archie greeted Cedric, who had just arrived after ditching his
Hufflepuff friends “So, Elf-girl tickle your fancy then?”

Krum had a look of confusion at the phrase, so Harry elaborated “Hermione, girl you were
ogling.”

“Herm-oy-nee-nee?” Viktor tried to pronounce the name he heard “That is the girl’s name?
She is very pretty.”

“If you say so,” Harry shrugged as Fred and George Weasley pranced around the
Goblet, ready to put their names in now that they’ve taking their aging potion “hold on,
this is what I’m here for.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the twins leapt across the aging line, and, seeing as
there was no immediate reaction, they believed their scheme to have been a success.
Harry however, had seen the age-line flash brightly as they crossed.

The twins threw in their bits of parchment as silence followed their act. When nothing
happened, they cheered in unison amidst the surprised students. A rumbling noise came
from the Goblet, one that stopped the twins’ celebration instantly as they turned to see
what was happening. The flame turned a deep purple before lashing out at them and
sending them flying back over the line.

When the twins shook themselves out of their daze, they looked at each other to see
fully-grown white beards adorning their brother’s faces.

“You said . . .”

“Didn’t you . . .”

That was all they got out as the two started brawling right in the middle of the Great Hall,
great entertainment indeed.

“Stupid buffoons,” Fleur scoffed at the fighting boys, the girl was getting rather irritated
at the fact that nearly every boy in the room, save a few, had been either sending
‘secret’ glances in her direction – often – or was openly staring at her.

“I must return to the ship, I vill see you later Potter, Potter’s minions,” Fleur, Archie,
Stephanie and Cedric looked at the retreating back of Viktor Krum with shock as Harry
grinned triumphantly at them.

“Bless him,” he sighed happily, “he just made my day.”

“Whatever, I may as well get this over and done with,” Fleur sighed as she approached
the Goblet that still had students crowded around it. As Fleur approached it, boys were
tripping over their feet to get out of her way while the girls were glaring at her defiantly.

Fleur casually crossed the line and slipped in her parchment before turning back and
heading over to her friends.

“I guess we’ll find out tonight who will be chosen,” Fleur grinned in anticipation “I cannot wait.”

Usually, the Halloween feast was one the students of Hogwarts looked forward to; it was
one of, if not the, largest feast of the year, the decorations were usually visually
stunning and the general atmosphere of the castle was usually on par with that of a
Christmas holiday.

This year, however, with already having had a large and delicious feast the night
previous, and the anticipation of the Goblet of Fire’s decision that was soon to occur,
could you blame the vast majority of the students for not caring one iota about their food?

All throughout the feast, students would look up at the hall towards the Goblet of Fire
that was placed by Dumbledore’s chair, hoping it would spontaneously shoot out the first
name and end their torturous wait.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp
upswing in the level of noise within the hall, which died away almost instantly as
Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, High master Karkaroff and Madame
Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and
winking at various students who would look his way while Mister Crouch continued to look
bored and uninterested.

“Well, the Goblet of Fire is almost ready to make its decision,” said the aged Headmaster
of Hogwarts. “I estimate that it requires one more minute, so we are very close to finding
out the identity of the three champions. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I
would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table and
go through into the next chamber,” he indicated towards a door behind the staff table,
Moody was standing beside it, “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

He took out his wand with a flick of his wrist and swept it once in an arc like fashion before
him; at once, all the candles, except those inside the carved pumpkins that were
customary in a Halloween feast, were extinguished, setting the mood in the room as
they were plunged into semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire was now easily the most
recognizable object in the entire room, shining even more brightly than Dumbledore’s
ridiculously bright coloured clothing; the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames
were almost painful on the eyes.

“Merlin,” Archie mumbled under his breath “Dumbledore has quite the flair for the
dramatic, don’t you think?”

The flames inside the Goblet turned from blue to red as they sparked angrily before a
tongue of flame shot into the air, a burned piece of parchment accompanying the action
– the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore snatched the piece of parchment out of the air with a practised eased and
held it by the light of the fire, which had turned back into their regular bluish-white, so he
could read the name.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he called out in a strong, clear voice “will be Viktor Krum!”

“Told you,” Harry said as he played with a golden fork while everyone else had their eyes
glued on the goblet “it’s not like it was going to be any of the others.”

A thunderous applause broke out for the international Quidditch star as he rose up from
the Slytherin table and headed towards Dumbledore. He then walked passed the head
table and through the room, passing Moody on the way, who opened the door to the
small chamber for him, before closing it behind the boy.

Above all the applause, Karkaroff’s booming voice could be easily distinguished “Bravo,
Viktor,” he said it so loudly that Madame Maxime had started slightly in surprise “I knew
you had it in you!”

The applause died down once again when the flames turned back into their angry red,
ready to choose another champion. Quickly, another tongue of flame shot out from the
Goblet, spitting out a familiar frilly bit of parchment with it.

Harry looked over to the surprised Fleur with a grin as he mouthed the words ‘so gay’.

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” he called “is Fleur Delacour!”

Fleur stood up gracefully from her seat amidst the thunderous applause and walked
towards Dumbledore, much like Krum had done, but she chose to bypass Harry on the
way, nudging him with an extra hard sway of her hips as she did so. She seemed fairly
pleased with herself, Harry thought, as he rolled his eyes. It was rather amusing to see
two of the other Beauxbatons students glaring with tear stained eyes at the part Veela,
they didn’t seem to pleased with the Goblet’s selection.

When the flames in the Goblet turned an angry red once again, the hall lapsed into
silence once more. If the anticipation in the room earlier was almost palpable, Harry would
liken it now to having a heavy blanket draped over them as they waited, it was so
obvious. Next would be the Hogwarts champion.

Another tongue of fire shot out, and with it, another bit of parchment. Dumbledore
snatched it from the air and peeked conspiratorially at it before allowing a large grin to
mar his bearded and aged features.

“The Hogwarts Champion,” he called for the last time “is Cedric Diggory!”
Harry and Archie both winced as the applause erupted from the Hufflepuff table of the
likes they’d never heard before. There was stamping, cheering and screaming coming
from the Hufflepuff table in particular (the Slytherin table was notoriously quiet) as
Cedric walked past them with a broad grin and a wink over to Harry and Archie. The
applause lasted for a long time, even after he disappeared into the chamber behind the
head table; it was quite a while before Dumbledore could resume speaking again.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily, as the last tumult died down. “Well, we now have
our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining
students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of
support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real . . .”

Dumbledore speech came to an abrupt halt when he noticed that the Goblet’s bluish
flames, once again, turned an angry red. Another long flame shot out from the Goblet,
and with it, another bit of parchment, much to the shock of those in the room.

Dumbledore, almost automatically, reached out to grab the bit of parchment with
practised ease. He stared, seemingly in shock, at what the paper was telling him for
several moments as the confusion and anticipation of the students in the hall started to
reach its crescendo.

Dumbledore looked out to the sea of students, his mouth open in shock, before uttering
a name no one was expecting to hear.

“Neville Longbottom.”

Harry resisted the urge to let out a bark of laughter – Longbottom, in the Triwizard
tournament? He probably would have laughed, if his doing so wouldn’t scare the shit out
of everyone in the hall, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

The confused boy headed over to a frowning Dumbledore as each footstep echoed loudly
in the silent hall. McGonagall approached Dumbledore with a frown and had a furious,
whispered conversation with him as Neville disappeared into the chamber of the Triwizard
champions.

“Well,” Harry suddenly spoke up, snapping several students around him out of their dazes
“This just got a hell of a lot more exciting.”

Cedric turned from the fire he was gazing at when he heard the door to the chamber
open. Imagine his surprise when Neville Longbottom, of all people, came strolling in
casually with a frown marring his features.

“’Ave zey called for us?” Fleur spoke up first, noticing the perturbed fourth year.

Before the confused boy could answer the question, the door to the chamber opened
again, this time, a little more forcefully, allowing in an excited looking Triwizard official.
Bagman was the first to enter the chamber with the champions, it seemed, as he grabbed
Neville by the arm and led him towards the other champions.

“Extraordinary,” he muttered, “Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen . . . Lady, may I

introduce to you – incredible though it may seem – the fourth Triwizard champion?”

Krum looked between the two newest occupants of the room, his face darkening, while
Fleur simply let out a soft laugh “Very amusing sir, but seriously, what is zat you wanted?”

“Amusing?” Bagman frowned, Cedric was astounded by the ex-Beater’s confusion “I kid
you not, Miss Delacour, Longbottom’s name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!”

Krum’s eyebrows contracted as he frowned in disapproval, Cedric also noticed that Fleur
wasn’t looking too happy either.

“Evidently, zere ‘as been a mistake,” she countered reasonably “’E cannot compete, ‘e is
too young.”

“That’s why it’s amazing,” Bagman countered, motioning to the oddly silent
Boy-who-lived. “Unfortunately, as you know, the age-line was only introduced in this
tournament as a precaution, anybody’s name that comes out of the Goblet, illegally or
not, is bound to compete,” he frowned, his round, boyish features making it look rather
ridiculous “At least I think – you’d have to ask Bartemius . . .”

The door banged open again, this time allowing in a large groups of people: Dumbledore
strode in quickly, followed by Mister Crouch, Madame Maxime, High Master Karkaroff,
Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Cedric heard the general consternation of
the students in the hall briefly before the door closed once again, shutting the noise out.

“Madame Maxime!” Fleur called to her headmistress “Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to
compete also!” she exclaimed disdainfully when she referred to the plump boy. Neville
bristled in anger at the remark.

“You listen here Frenchie, I don’t know where you get off . . .”

“Quiet Longbottom!” McGonagall snapped.

Madame Maxime drew herself to her full height, striding further into the room and batting
the large chandelier out of her way as she passed “What is ze meaning of zis
Dumbly-dorr?” she asked imperiously.

“The lady poses an interesting question, Dumbledore, I would like to know the answer to
that also,” Karkaroff demanded angrily, “Two Hogwarts champions? I don’t recall reading
such a clause in the rules that stated the home school were allowed to have two
champions. Perhaps I missed it?” he asked before giving a short and nasty laugh.

“Ridiculous!” Madame Maxime exclaimed in disgust, her hand resting on Fleur’s shoulder in
a comforting fashion, her opal-covered hand was almost as large as the girl’s torso
“’Ogwarts cannot ‘ave two champions. It is most unjust.”

“We were under the impression that you age line would have kept the younger, more,”
he eyed Neville before speaking “impetuous, students from entering,” his eyes were
colder than ever as he spoke “otherwise, of course, we would have brought more
candidates from our schools.”

“It’s no one’s fault but Longbottom’s, Karkaroff,” Snape silkily chipped in “Don’t go
blaming Dumbledore because of a child’s determination to break the rules – he’s been
crossing lines since he first arrived here, with that abnormally large head of his . . .”

“Thank you, Severus,” Dumbledore interrupting his Potions professor firmly. Snape
immediately quieted down, though his eyes were still as malevolent as ever, especially as
the fire in the room reflected of his pitch-black orbs.

Dumbledore locked eyes with Neville, Cedric noticed, in a way Harry would sometimes do
when he was asking you questions he really wanted the answers to.

“Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Neville?” Dumbledore asked the fourth year tiredl

“No,” he snapped angrily, “I mean, I tried to, but I kept getting knocked back by that
stupid age-line!” he had just realized what he had let out and flushed in embarrassment.
Everyone in the room, sans Cedric, Bagman, Crouch and Dumbledore, looked at him
disdainfully at his admission.

“Did you ask an older student to put your name in the Goblet of Fire for you?” he pressed
on, ignoring the glares being sent the boy’s way.

“No,” he frowned, before admitting sheepishly “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Ah, but of course ‘e is lying!” Madame Maxime angrily proclaimed.

“He could not have crossed the age line,” McGonagall informed the French woman briskly
“I’m sure we can all agree on that . . .”

“Dumbly-dorr must ‘ave made a mistake with ze line,” said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

“It is possible, of course,” Dumbledore said, trying to be polite while placating the larger woman

“Albus, you know perfectly well that you didn’t make a mistake!” McGonagall snapped
“Really, what nonsense, Neville could not have crossed the line himself, and as
Dumbledore believes he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, that should
be enough for all of you!”

“Mister Crouch . . . Mister Bagman,” Karkaroff’s voice broke the silence “you are our, er,
impartial judges. Surely you must agree that this is most irregular.”

Bagman looked to Mister Crouch nervously, wiping his round face with a handkerchief,
while the older man stood just outside the circle of the firelight, his face half-covered in
shadows. The effect made him look slightly eerie and much older than he was. When he
spoke, however, it was in the same crisp tone as usual “We must follow the rules,” he
spoke curtly “and the rules state that the Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical
contract – Longbottom is forced to compete, or risk losing his magic.”

“You heard him,” Bagman said, beaming, as he turned back to Karkaroff and Maxime, as
if the matter were closed.

“You will re-ignite the Goblet of Fire then, so that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang can keep
submitting names until all schools have two champions,” Karkaroff spoke up, dropping any
forced politeness his voice once held and acting very cold “it is only fair, Dumbledore.”

“That’s just not possible,” Bagman denied him “the Goblet of Fire will not re-ignite again
until the start of the next tournament . . .”

“- In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!” Karkaroff snapped angrily
“After all our negotiations, meetings and compromises, I hardly expected something like
this to happen – I have half a mind to leave now!”
“Unfortunately for you, that’s not an option, Karkaroff,” Moody’s voice spoke from the
door, Cedric assumed he snuck in during all the fuss “Your boy needs to compete -
binding magical contract, remember?” he smirked nastily “convenient, eh?”

Moody further entered the room, every time his right foot hit the ground; there was a
loud ‘clunk’.

“Care to elaborate?” Karkaroff sneered at Moody “I’m afraid I don’t understand what
you mean,” Cedric noticed the Durmstrang high master tried to sound calm, but the balling
of his fists said something entirely different.

“Don’t you?” Moody asked malevolently “obviously, someone put Longbottom’s name in
there, knowing the boy would have to compete if he was selected.”

“Evidently, someone ‘oo wishes to give ‘Ogwarts two bites at ze same apple!” said
Madame Maxime.

“I quite agree with Madame Maxime,” Karkaroff said a little too quickly “I shall be lodging
complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards . . .
“ Cedric noticed Moody give the French headmistress a disdainful look before continuing.

“If anyone’s got a right to complain, it’s Longbottom,” Moody snapped. Interrupting the
man “funnily enough, I don’t hear him saying anything . . .”

“Why should ‘e complain?” Fleur asked angrily “We ‘ave been ‘oping to be selected for
weeks! Ze honour for our schools! A thousand galleons in prize money – It is an
opportunity many would die for!”

“Maybe that’s what someone is hoping for,” Moody interrupted the angry French girl
“that Longbottom is going to die for it!”

A tense silence followed that proclamation.

Ludo Bagman, trying to ease the tension in the room, looked to the heavily scarred
ex-Auror with a nervous smile “Moody, my good man, what a thing to say!”

“We all know Professor Moody sees that the morning is wasted unless he discovers six
plots to murder him before lunchtime,” Karkaroff jeered at the man, “Apparently, he is
teaching his students to fear assassination attempts too, an odd quality in a Defence
Against the Dark Arts Professor, obviously Dumbledore has his reasons . . .”

“Imagining things, am I?” growled Moody, “Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or
wizard who put the boy’s name into that Goblet . . .”

“Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?” Madam Maxime asked, throwing her huge hands up
into the air.

“Because it would take one to hoodwink a magical artefact of that power,” he sneered
“someone well beyond the level of a fourth year. Only an extremely powerful Confundus
charm could bamboozle something like the Goblet of Fire into doing his or her bidding!”

“You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody,” Karkaroff growled “forgive
us, however, if we do not take the word of a paranoid psychopath to heart, would you?”
“There are those who’ll turn innocent occasions to their advantage,” Moody hissed
menacingly, it sounded much more sinister than usual. He took a sip out of his flask before
continuing “It was once my job to think the way that Dark Wizards do – perhaps you remember

“Alastor!” said Dumbledore, warningly. Cedric had never heard anyone other than Harry
refer to the man by his first name, it sounded a little weird, if he was honest with himself.
He continued to watch the show with interest, noticing how Karkaroff’s face was now
burning in, what he assumed to be, anger.

“How this situation arose, we do not know,” Dumbledore regretfully informed those in the
room “It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and
Neville have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do . . .”

“Ah, but Dumbly-dorr,” Madame Maxine tried to interrupt him, however, Dumbledore was
having none of it.

“My dear Madame Maxime, if you have another alternative, I would love to hear it.”

Dumbledore waiting for any suggestions, but Madame Maxime chose to remain silent,
glaring at the headmaster. She wasn’t the only one however, Snape looked livid, and
Karkaroff furious. Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

“Yes, shall we continue then?” Bagman asked as he clapped his hands together to draw
everyone’s attention “We’ve got to give our champions their instructions, haven’t we?
Barty, if you’ll do the honours?”

Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

“Yes,” he said “instructions, the advisers . . .”

He moved closer to the fire so everyone could see him as he spoke. Cedric noticed,
rather suddenly, that Crouch looked rather ill up close. He had dark bags under his eyes
and his skin looked extra pale.

“Each champion is allowed one adviser that must help the champion to the best of their
abilities,” Crouch informed them “this was another stipulation added to the holding of the
tournament this year, in the hopes that the champions would be better prepared and less
likely to come to harm during any of the tasks – this does not mean said tasks will be any
less dangerous, however.”

The champions were looking rather surprised by this proclamation as Neville eyed the
headmaster almost hungrily. It disturbed Cedric a little.

“The professors currently on Hogwarts grounds, are, of course, viable options for any of
you. Do not think that just because you are from a foreign school that you cannot
select someone from Hogwarts, or vice-versa . . . your selections?”

Fleur didn’t even need time to think as she named her choice “Madame Maxime, of course.”

The large woman smiled warmly at her star pupil and placed both hands on her
shoulders, showing that she was just as pleased as Fleur was with the situation.

“I chose the High Master,” Krum motioned to Karkaroff, who smirked at the boy and
nodded once, showing that he would support the International Quidditch star.

“Can I pick professor Dumbledore?” Neville asked hopefully as the Headmaster chuckled,
others in the room, especially Snape and Karkaroff, didn’t seem too pleased with the question.

“Apologies, my boy, but I am far too busy this year with organizing the tournament to
burden myself with another heavy responsibility such as this, any other of the professors
are viable options, though,” Dumbledore smiled down at Neville, who seemed disappointed.

“Can I take Professor Moody then?” he asked eagerly as the scarred ex-Auror gave an
ugly smile.

“If it is your choice,” Crouch spoke up before looking at Cedric “You boy, who will you choose?”

“A question, before I make my decision,” Cedric said, hoping he could choose who he
really wanted to be his advisor “the person I nominate, must they help if they are asked?
What I mean to say is, can they turn the request down?”

“No, they cannot,” Crouch answered immediately “Aside from Dumbledore, anyone on
the grounds is fair game, you could ask a Ghost if that is what you wish and they will be
obliged to help you in any way you ask them to.”

Cedric grinned excitedly “Then I choose Harry Potter!”

The students still seated in the Great Hall, waiting for the champions to re-emerge so they
could go to bed, were surprised when the dor opened, only to reveal Professor McGonagall.

“Harry Potter,” she spoke up with a slight Scottish accent to the silent hall “please make
your way into the chamber, your presence is required.”

“Fuck. Off,” Harry cursed as everyone looked at him with different reactions – curiosity
being the main one – “why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like what’s about to happen?”

“Well,” Archie spoke up jovially “the list of things you dislike outweighs the list of things you
like by, like, a billion,” he joked, though Harry didn’t find it amusing “Statistically, you’re
most likely going to be right, aren’t you?”

Stephanie, and several other students listening in, snickered at Harry who was just
glaring at Archie as he stood from his chair.

“That was a rhetorical question smart ass,” he sent one last glare to his werewolf friend
before making his way over to McGonagall, who was holding the door open for him.

“You’re looking rather fabulous tonight, Minerva,” Harry quipped at the Transfigurations
professor “have you lost weight?”

Harry walked right on past her after asking that question, leaving a sputtering Professor
in his wake. The nerve! She did not lose weight, thank-you-very-much, she’d always been
slim and had a good figure.

As Harry walked into the room, he was met with the sight of the champions, Snape,
Moody, Karkaroff, Madam Maxime, Crouch and Bagman looking at him expectantly. He,
however, didn’t like the way Cedric was grinning at him – Fleur looked particularly amused too.
“Harry Potter,” Crouch spoke up curtly “You have been selected to become Mister
Diggory’s advisor for the Triwizard tournament . . .”

Harry didn’t let the man finish as he turned on his heel, ready to walk right back out,
however, an angry and flustered Transfiguration professor was standing in his way.

“You are bound to perform this duty, unfortunately . . .”

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Harry interrupted her as he tried to sidestep her
and leave the room; Snape placed a firm hand on his shoulder though, stopping his advance.

Harry glanced at the offending appendage with a blank face “Severus,” he spoke softly,
infuriating Snape with his cheek. He grabbed Snape’s hand by the wrist and casually tossed
it off his shoulder, surprising the man with his strength “don’t touch me please, I just had
these robes cleaned.”

“Unfortunately, Mister Potter,” Dumbledore spoke up in a calm voice “Mister Diggory’s

selection of you as his adviser has automatically entered you into a binding magical
contract – you must help him.”

Harry turned to the headmaster “Firstly, I agreed to nothing, so I must do nothing,” he

looked to Karkaroff “secondly, I don’t want to be in this room any longer than I have to
be, his breath stinks.”

“Why you arrogant little . . .”

Harry cut him off before he could continue, “I’m sorry, did you say something?” Harry said
“I just find it hard to hear the words coming out of your mouth with all the shit that’s in
there from all the ass-licking you had to do to stay out of Azkaban – so sorry.”

Moody let out a bark of laughter while Dumbledore frowned at him.

“Mister Potter!” he snapped, “you will apologise to high master Karkaroff this instant – he
deserves yours, and my respect.”

“Sorry for my snappish attitude headmaster,” he told Dumbledore, completely ignoring

the request to apologize to the fuming Durmstrang high master “but you can understand
my irritation, can you not? Being forced into a magical contract against one’s own will do
that to most people.”

The grin on Cedric’s face didn’t diminish one iota, only serving to further piss Harry off.
Fleur seemed to be growing more amused with the situation also, much to her
headmistress’ confusion.

“As unfortunate as it is, Mister Potter,” Dumbledore sighed, sending an apologetic look to
the fuming Karkaroff “you are, indeed, bound to help Mister Diggory throughout this
tournament in any way he asks you to,” he sighed as he rubbed his temples “I assumed
you were friends, why does this bother you so? As confused as we all are that he would
select a student over a Professor for his adviser, I cannot deny that your help could be
the defining factor on whether young Cedric lives or dies . . .”

“You’re not helping, you know?” Harry interrupted him “what if I choose to deliberately
give him shitty help so he can get himself killed? I assure you that the idea has crossed
my mind at least twenty-seven times since I’ve come here.”

Many in the room were confused when Cedric’s grin only grew wider at the proclamation
that his so-called friend would so willingly throw him to the Chimeras to die – Fleur
understood perfectly however. It was rare to see Harry irritated this much, and you could
tell when it happened by how much he started insulting people.

“You may only assist in ways Mister Diggory asks you to,” Dumbledore frowned “There are
only three tasks, I don’t think it will take up too much of your time . . .”

“Potters,” Snape sneered in disgust “seen one, you’ve seen them all – lazy, good for
nothing, useless wastes of space . . .”

“Severus,” Dumbledore warned again “be silent. Harry, as upset as you may be about this
situation, you must understand, that you, unfortunately, have no choice in the matter . . .”

“Upset?” Harry frowned “What makes you think I’m upset? Karkaroff is upset,” he pointed
to the red faced high master “McGonagall is upset” he then pointed behind him to the
flustered Deputy headmistress “Crouch . . . well, he just looks bored,” the man’s lips
quirked in amusement at his observation “I’m merely wondering how I can be cajoled –
against my will – into a binding magical contract, I thought things like that only happened
to boys who lived,” he dryly stated, he was, however surprised when nobody looked
amused by his claim.

“Wait a minute . . .” he looked between the frowning Neville and the rest of the group “You
all think he actually put his name in that Goblet?” he asked in amusement, the frowns on
the majority of their faces was enough to say it all “Neville Longbottom,” he tried not to
laugh “you think Neville Longbottom was able to bypass Dumbledore’s – rather brilliant, I
must say – age line and then hoodwink the Goblet to allow him entrance?”

“The matter is already . . .” McGonagall tried to interrupt him, but he was on a roll, it seemed.

“Only an extremely powerful Confundus charm could confuse the Goblet sufficiently
enough to make it think that there are four schools to select champions for, putting
Neville’s name in the Goblet was the easy part once that is done – he’d be the only
student to choose from, wouldn’t he?” he shook his head in amusement “you actually think
this,” he motioned toward Neville with his waving in his direction “steaming pile of
ineptitude is capable of doing such a thing?”

Many of the faces in the room showed doubt, so Harry went in for the kill “Neville,” he
barked “what’s a Confundus charm and what does it do?”

“Er,” he stumbled over his own words “trick artefacts . . . into . . . doing what they’re
not supposed to?”

Harry motioned triumphantly at Longbottom, his point clearly made. Maxime, Karkaroff
and Snape looked displeased, but they couldn’t refute the logic. Dumbledore was as
amused as ever, while Neville looked thankful.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Harry snapped at Neville, “only an idiot would be thankful at
someone for practically calling them a moron . . .”

“Right,” Dumbledore coughed into his hand to hide his chuckle “it seems you are up to
speed on the current situation, Bartemius, if you would?”
“Right,” he sounded slightly less bored than before “The first task is designed to test your
resourcefulness and cunning,” he began “so we will not be telling you what the first task
will be, as one’s resourcefulness and cunning cannot be accurately tested if they have
ample time to prepare for the test.

The first task will take place on November the Twenty-fourth in front of the other
students, and the panel of judges,” he said, speaking to Cedric, Fleur, the ever silent
Viktor and Neville mainly “Champions will not be allowed to accept, or ask for help of any
kind from a professor or teacher other than their advisers, to complete the tasks in the
Tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed with only their wands.
Information about the second task will be given when the first task is over. Owing to
the demanding, and time-consuming nature of the Tournament, you will all be exempt
from homework and tests . . .”

“Hold on a second,” Harry interrupted “as an adviser, do I get this same privilege? I do
have to help him with each task he has to prepare for, after all.”

Crouch looked to Dumbledore with a stumped expression. For a student to be accepted

as an advisor was not something they had predicted.

“That is acceptable,” Dumbledore agreed, as Harry smirked triumphantly.

“Looks like you’re good for something after all Cedric,” he walked over to him and poked
him in the forehead, “who knew?”

“Yes, well, that is all I have to say on the matter regarding the first task,” Crouch quickly
said as he coughed into his palm and proceeded to walk out of the room.

“Is everything okay Bartemius?” Dumbledore asked with concern “Are you sure you do not
wish to stay the night? Come up to my office and have a drink and such?”

“I’m too busy for such things,” Crouch said dismissively as he finally left the remaining
occupants of the room so he could get back to the Ministry.

“Hopefully, High Master, Headmistress, there are no hard feelings regarding tonight’s
affairs – I think it rather obvious that something is amiss, and I assure you that I intend
to conduct a full investigation,” he informed them “perhaps we can discuss these matters
up in my office?”

They both nodded, begrudgingly, despite not wanting anything to do with the aged
Headmaster right now. They could not refute Harry’s logic, after all.

“And what are you smirking at?” Harry asked Fleur curiously “You do realize that now that
I’m supposed to help Cedric, you stand no chance, right?”

“’Oo are you to think you can speak to Miss Delacour in such a way?” Madame Maxime
asked Harry imperiously.

Harry turned his attention on the large woman, resisting the urge to make a comment on
her extremely large . . . legs.

“I’m the guy who apparently sodomized your star pupil in the shower over the holidays,”
he covered his mouth with a hand “oops?”
“Let’s go Harry,” Cedric dragged the boy out by his elbow “I don’t want to get stomped
on by Madame Maxime because you say the wrong thing and piss her off,” he mumbled to
him as an afterthought.

The two teenagers left the, now-gaping occupants of the room for the night; ready to
head back to their dorms for a good night’s rest.

Harry was rather pleased with the unexpected turn of events – despite how annoyed he
was initially. No homework for a whole year would definitely free up a lot of his time, and
it would free it up when he was around the Room of Requirement too!

Author’s note:

Fucking Liverpool, and all their fans, can suck on my left nut.
Chapter: 26
Chapter 27: A Cunning Stratagem

“Viktor, follow me,” Karkaroff urged his school’s champion impatiently. The Quidditch star
looked up to his headmaster with confusion, his half-eaten dinner sitting on a plate in
front of him, before nodding and excusing himself from the Slytherin table.

Without a word, Karkaroff stalked off at a brisk pace, Viktor hot on his heels, as they
made their way out of the castle and towards the Forbidden Forest.

“Vy are you tayking me out here High Master?” his question was promptly ignored as
Karkaroff shushed him and led him further into the forest.

Viktor face was marred with a worried frown when their surroundings continued to
become darker as they continued walking through the ominous forest. Light was a rare
commodity where they were now, with it barely being provided by few patches of holes in
the canopies of the trees allowing the moonlight to shine through.

“I have discovered the secret behind the first task Viktor,” Karkaroff told him in a hushed
voice as they finally stopped moving “I brought you out here because they have arrived
only this evening,” Karkaroff quickly whipped out his wand and cast a few quick charms
over himself and the confused boy “be sure not to make a sound and try to touch as little
as possible – these creatures are extremely sensitive and will not hesitate to kill us if you
alert them to our presence.”

“Vot is dat smell?” Krum scrunched up his nose in distaste as the horrid smell assaulted his
senses.

“It is us,” Karkaroff in a whisper as they crept closer to the large bush obscuring their
path not ten feet before them “I have charmed us to smell like dung, these creatures
have great senses of smell, if we did not alter our scent, they would have for sure spotted us.”

Krum nodded his head in understanding, pinching his nostrils shut as he followed the elder
wizard towards the large bush.

When Karkaroff, ever so gently, pushed aside a small portion of the bush, Krum was able
to look inside briefly right before Karkaroff covered it up again. He tried to hold in a gasp
at the twelve creatures he saw all seated around a campfire in the clearing. They were
each roughly three feet tall with black skin and large claws on their hands and feet. Their
faces were covered with masks made of different creatures’ skulls while their backs,
shoulders and legs were covered in a shaggy coat of thick black fur.

“Vot are dey?” Krum urgently asked the man as he covered up their peephole once more.

“They, Viktor, are known as Gorpack,” he began “they are a species of creatures that live
off hunting. They are extremely fast and have a high sense of smell, which only helps
them in their profession, as you could imagine,” he humorously joked as Krum nodded
distractedly “they are also extremely fast and ruthless when hunting their prey.”

“How do dey fector into de furst task den?” the seventeen year old boy frowned in
confusion “Will dey be tasked to hunt us?”

“Well done Viktor,” Karkaroff praised the boy “that is exactly what they will be doing. I do
not know the exact purpose behind the task, but they are what you will need to be
looking out for, I assure you. Dumbledore arranged for them to arrive for this purpose;
come” he began to walk away, Viktor followed without question “I must teach you some
spells that will aid you before the task is scheduled to begin in just under two weeks.”

“Yes, High Master,” Viktor obediently replied, following the silver haired man back out the
way they came. A snapping twig made the two wizards jump in fright and spin around,
their wands at the ready, only to see a black cat digging a hole innocently by one of the
large, mouldy trees.

“It is just a cat,” Karkaroff murmured “quick Viktor, the Gorpack probably would have
heard that, we must make haste!”

Noticing the urgency in the man’s voice, Viktor quickly reached for something in his pocket
before throwing it at the floor in front of them. The small twig-like object quickly increased
in size as he threw it and became a broom – a Firebolt, to be precise.

“Get on High Master,” Viktor urged “I vill get us out in quickness.”

Karkaroff mounted the broom behind Krum, not bothering to correct the boy’s poor
English, as he urged his star-pupil to fly away as quickly as possible. Had they remained
a moment longer, they would have noticed the black cat from earlier emerge from behind
the tree and make its way back towards the castle, its job done for the evening.

Students usually spent their free periods catching up on homework, socializing with
friends or mainly goofing off in their common rooms at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry. During a student’s NEWT years, the number of free periods one gets increases
in number, usually, assuming you took fewer classes than you did in your first five years
of schooling. That didn’t mean that the workload was any less though, as any sixth or
seventh year would tell you.

Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter were exceptions to this fact though. They had an
ample amount of free periods between them and no homework to do during them. With
the Triwizard tournament being held though, and Harry being Cedric’s advisor, their free
time was pretty much spent the same way every time.

“Can you teach me how to Transfigure dirt into water?” Cedric asked eagerly.

“No.”

Cedric frowned in disappointment before smiling once again “Can youteach me a new,
powerful charm that will help me in the tournament?”

“No.”

Cedric didn’t seem to get the hint though “How about teaching me how to use a sword –
Archie says you’re really good with a blade . . .”

“Most definitely,” Cedric grinned happily, until Harry finished his sentence “not.”
Cedric let out an irritated sigh as he sat down heavily on the bench beside Harry.
Students weren’t generally allowed into the other house’s common rooms. Many snuck
in anyway, if there was a party or something, but you could pretty much expect it to be
impossible to do so during the day, or if your name was Harry Potter or Cedric Diggory.
International Quidditch prodigies and Triwizard champions aren’t exactly inconspicuous –
people generally took notice of your presence wherever you were.

“You’re supposed to be helping me,” Cedric whined in a manner that reminded Harry eerily
of Sirius – those two were spending way too much time together – before turning a
disgusting pleading look towards the ebony haired teen “It’s just under two weeks to the
first task and you haven’t even helped me like you’re supposed to.”

“That contract,” Harry began “only bound me to help you like I am bound to attend classes,
it’s not as serious as you participating in the tournament, for example,” Harry said, ticking
off a finger as he moved onto his second point “secondly, the things you are asking me to
teach you would, in no way, be helpful for you during the first task,” he informed the
stunned Hogwarts champion “and thirdly, where the hell is Archades?”

“With Stephanie and Fleur,” Cedric answered automatically, before snapping out of his
daze “does that mean you what the first task is about then?”

Harry sighed before whipping out his wand and casting an obscuring charm around
them. Anyone trying to listen in on their conversation from now on would only hear them
speaking about mundane things like Quidditch and girls – sure, it would be an instant
tip-off to someone who knew Harry that something was amiss, but not many people did
actually know him here, so they were fairly safe.

“Gorpack hunters,” Harry informed Cedric, so suddenly, that the boy thought he might
have been hearing things.

“Sorry, I must be hearing things,” Cedric apologised “you didn’t just say Gorpack hunters,
did you?”

“I did,” Harry confirmed “twelve of them, three for each champion.”

The colour practically drained from Cedric’s face “Y-you’re serious?”

“Starting to regret wanting to show the world how great Hufflepuff is?” Harry asked
sarcastically, Cedric wasn’t paying attention though.

“Are you sure? No, never mind that, of course you are, how do you know?” Cedric asked,
worry clearly the overpowering emotion that he was feeling at the moment.

“I tailed Krum and Karkaroff last night,” he answered with a shrug “they obviously know
too, by the way. If Karkaroff could find out, my guess is that Maxime could too; I
wouldn’t be surprised if Fleur knows by now. Hagrid would have had to be the one to
arrange their arrival, odds are he told Longbottom too, so there is no real advantage for
you by knowing this.”

Cedric remained silent for several moments in contemplation; he finally spoke up after he
was done “Why won’t you teach me any spells then? I don’t see how I wouldn’t benefit
from defending myself against these guys,” he let out a humourless laugh “these things
are hired by governments all over the world to kill dangerous creatures, heck, three of
them would be enough to kill a dragon!”
“Probably,” Harry shrugged again “and why would I teach you spells? How would it help
you in this case?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Cedric casually replied “I was kind of thinking something on the lines
of, disable them before they can kill me.”

Harry shook his head in exasperation “Cedric,” he began calmly “what did Crouch say the
first task was supposed to test?”

“Resourcefulness and Cunning, I think, why?”

“How is trying to kill a member of a small team of Gorpack hunters show you using your
cunning?” he asked with a raised brow “sure, you may hurt them, shit, you may even be
able to kill three of them if you get lucky – then what?” Harry asked rhetorically, “you’ll
alert the nine other Gorpack hunters that their comrades have been killed – by you – and
then they’ll come find you, quickly, and remove your head from your torso.”

Cedric looked a little green after Harry explanation of what could happen “I very much
doubt your task will be to kill them, especially since Dumbledore or Hagrid must have
given them something in return for their help in the task. I don’t see the ‘you’ll probably get
killed by helping us’ working on these guys, to be honest.”

“Then what do you think?” Cedric asked weakly “advise me, what should I do?”

Harry remained silent for several moments, seemingly contemplating his answer, before
giving it “It could be a number of things: an obstacle course, a treasure hunt, a race,
something like that. Whatever the task is though, I guarantee you that avoiding the
wrath of those Gorpack will be your number one priority.”

“Okay,” Cedric nodded his head slowly “can you teach me some spells that could help me
with camouflaging myself? Disguising my scent, making me invisible, stuff like that?”

Harry shrugged “Go look them up in the library, they’re not exactly hard, or difficult to
find” he reasoned “but, I have another idea. One that I assure you, no one but Archades
and I could think of.”

Cedric leaned in eagerly, an excited gleam in his eyes – he knew he made the right choice
in choosing Harry to be his advisor!

Archie had been looking for Harry and Cedric for the better part of fifteen minutes.
McGonagall had approached him while he was talking with Stephanie and Fleur earlier in
the Ravenclaw common room and asked him to fetch them for some wand ceremony or
what not – he didn’t really care.

What he did care about is that he was forced to scour a huge freaking castle to find his
wayward friends when he could be sitting back on a large comfy chair and talking with the
girl of his dreams.

Sure, she still saw him as a friend, or a brother, but that could change, right?

His thinking was put on hold when he saw Harry and Cedric talking in hushed whispers on
the other side of a courtyard, a small group of third to fifth year girls were sitting not far
away, trying to listen in and giggling as they did so.

Archie approached them casually, about to tell them to get their arses to that ceremony,
when he heard Harry say a certain word Archie was convinced he’d never hear uttered
out of the teenager’s mouth – ever.

“Archie is a really great friend, don’t you think?” the spectacled teenager complimented
the Potions expert to the Hufflepuff Triwizard champion.

“I know what you mean, if only all friends were like Archie,” Cedric said wistfully, thought
for some reason, he looked incredibly excited. It was all incredibly confusing, and just
before Archie was about to ask what in Merlin’s name was going on, Cedric looked over in
Archie’s direction with a look of surprise, “look, here comes our best friend now.”

Archie’s eyes narrowed when he saw Cedric’s lips saying one thing, but his voice saying
something different.

“You figured it out, did you Archades?” Harry asked with amusement, “was there anything
in particular that gave it away?”

“You mean other than you calling me ‘Archie’?” the boy asked rhetorically “the topic of
your conversation was kind of queer, I’m not gonna lie to you . . . did you invent that spell?”

Harry shrugged casually “Modified an existing one to better suit my purposes, is a better
way to put it, I think.”

“You going to tell me what you were discussing that was so important, that it warranted
such a charm?” Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow while Cedric was just grinning
jovially “whatever, I don’t care – McGonagall asked you to go to the entrance hall, like,
ten minutes ago for some wand weighing ceremony. Harry needs to go too,” seeing the
puzzled frown on Harry’s face, Archie figured he’s cut him off quickly, not willing to answer
his question, “I don’t know, I don’t care, she specifically asked for you two, and you’re
going to go. If I get my conversation with Stephanie interrupted one more time because
you douches were off gallivanting around the school instead of going to that ceremony,
I’m going to find a way to incorporate your testes into my next potion,” he threatened darkly.

Cedric looked a little queasy at the notion, and slightly intimidated. He’d seen how well
the boy could handle that knife of his; he didn’t doubt he could come through with that threat.

Harry, on the other hand, looked unimpressed “I don’t ‘gallivant’ Archades,” he chided
mockingly “I strut, there’s a difference.”

“Whatever, I don’t care,” Archie rolled his eyes with a small smirk “just go already before
the old minx of a woman comes looking for you.”

“She’s definitely a minx,” Cedric agreed “if I was around fifty years older, I’d so . . . you
were joking weren’t you?”

Harry and Archie were looking at the boy weirdly “Yeah, I was joking,” Archie said needlessly.

Cedric laughed nervously before making a tactical retreat, he had a ceremony to go to after all.

“I’ll never understand that boy,” Archie said in disappointment, “he worries me sometimes.”
Harry just snorted and followed Cedric, silently agreeing with his friend.

Cedric seemed to know where they were supposed to be going, as they made their way
towards the entrance hall. On the way, however, they spied several students wearing
badges supporting Cedric and insulting Longbottom, showing them off proudly to the
world and pressing them to make their message change.

“That’s not very nice,” Cedric frowned in disapproval, “you said it yourself that he didn’t
put his name in deliberately.”

“Still doesn’t mean he’s not a tosser,” Harry leaned in close to a random Gryffindor
wearing the badge, causing the poor girl to freeze up and almost pass out. Without her
noticing, he stole the badge right off her chest and continued on walking, as if nothing
ever happened, the girl in question, Katie Bell, wouldn’t snap out of her daze for another
few minutes.

“Sweet Merlin Harry,” Cedric said in awe, “You have no idea what you just did, don’t you?”

“Sure I do,” Harry responded, holding the badge up above his head and examining it
closely “I used my ‘Potter’ charm to coax a random female into a state of heightened
arousal, temporarily indisposing her, so that I could pilfer her little badge here.”

“Well, yeah, but I wouldn’t have put it that way . . .” Cedric mumbled under his breath, “I
wish I could do that . . .”

“Whoring yourself off to every girl in the castle already lowers your desirability
somewhat,” Harry deadpanned “she’s just like the rest of them, probably willing to spread
her legs the second I asked her to”

“Bell?” Cedric asked in surprise, “Nah mate, she’s one of those weird ‘good girls’,” Cedric
chuckled “that’s not to say I didn’t try, very hard, but she wanted nothing of it. Makes
her even sexier, I think.”

“She’s still a useless fan girl,” Harry mumbled distractedly as he flipped the badge over
several times before promptly disposing of it “it has a switching spell implanting within the
badge, it activates when you press it and switches to the other message,” Harry
explained in a bored tone “pity, I thought it would have been a little more complicated
than that.”

Cedric just stared at the boy in surprise for several moments before shaking his head in
amazement “Only you Potter, only you.”

Bartemius Crouch, noticing that everyone necessary was present, addressed those in the room

“The Triwizard tournament, as you have no doubt been told numerous times already, is
an extremely dangerous and difficult competition,” he said in his usual curt yet bored
voice, “because of this, the Weighing of the Wands is a ceremony that is a necessity so
we can ascertain whether or not each wizard, or witch,” he motioned to Fleur “is wielding
a functional wand. Your wand is your only weapon in these tasks, after all.”

“That’s all well and good,” Harry frowned in irritation, “but why am I here?”

“I can answer that Harry,” a sickly sweet voice spoke up from behind Crouch. A woman
with blonde curly hair, horned glasses and a set of teeth marred with four golden caps.
She was dressed absurdly, even for a witch, in different sets of animal skins, while
holding a crocodile skin purse.

“Rita,” Harry greeted with false amusement, “Still alive, I see . . . how unfortunate.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Harry dear,” Rita Skeeter, star journalist from the
Daily Prophet chided.

Just then, the door to the room creaked open to reveal Ollivander being led in by a much
taller Dumbledore. The short wand crafter spied everyone in the room before locking
eyes with Harry. The look didn’t last for much longer than a few moments, but it was
enough for the teenager to notice.

“Answer a few questions for me Harry dear?” Rita asked with a predatory smile. Harry
was content with just ignoring her, wiling to leave as soon as possible to rid himself from
the parasite of a woman.

“Dumbledore!” Skeeter cried, appearing delighted by his arrival, but Harry knew better,
“How are you?” she greeted, holding out large mannish hand for Dumbledore do shake,
“I hope you saw my piece over the summer on the International Confederation of
Wizards conference?”

“Enchantingly nasty,” he replied with twinkling eyes, “I particular enjoyed your depiction
of me as an obsolete dingbat.”

“Lovely,” she didn’t looked abashed in the slightest “I was merely making the point that
some of your ideas are old-fashioned, many people on the street say . . .”

“I would be delighted to discuss the reasoning behind your rudeness later, Rita,” he
replied with a courteous bow and a smile, “but unfortunately, the weighing of the wands
is about to take place, and I’m afraid it cannot take place unless I am presiding over it.”

Dumbledore took his place at the centre of the judges table alongside Madame Maxime,
High Master Karkaroff, Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman, “May I introduce to you all,”
Dumbledore said, “Mister Ollivander,” he motioned to the short, silver eyed man, “he will
be checking your wands to make sure they are in good working condition for the Tournament.”

Each of the champions looked over to the window to see the legendary wand-maker
standing there and waiting for his queue to make his presence properly known.

“Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you forward first, please?” Ollivander said,
stepping into the space in front of the judge’s table to begin his examination.

Fleur approached the wand-maker graciously, an extra sway to her hips when she
spotted Harry eyeing her out of the corner of her eye. Madame Maxime sent the
Quidditch star a dark glare when she noticed the blatant flirting going on between the two.

After handing the man her wand, Ollivander examined it closely, “Hmm,” he exclaimed. He
twirled the wand around in his hands like a baton, eliciting an array of gold and pink
sparks. He then held it close to his eyes and examined it again much more closely, “Yes,”
he muttered quietly, seemingly done with his examination, “nine and a half inches . . .
inflexible . . . rosewood . . . and containing as a core . . . dear me . . .”
“An ‘air from ze ‘ead of a Veela,” Fleur finished for him proudly “one of my grandmother’s.”

Fleur’s grandmother, yes, the terrible Poker player, Harry remembered her clearly. She
was the one back in that game with the goblins that was enchanting the males in the room
to fold their cards, good hand or not, before they could discover how good their cards
were. If her appearance was a sign of things to come for Fleur Delacour, the girl was
very fortunate.

“Yes,” said Mister Ollivander, “I’ve never used the hair of a Veela for a wand – I find that
it makes for rather temperamental wands . . . however, to each his own, and if this suits
you . . .” he trailed off mysteriously, as usual. He ran his fingers along the wand, checking
it for bumps or scratches; he then muttered, ‘Orchideous’ causing a bouquet of flowers to
burst from the tip. Pleased with the reaction, he handed the wand back to the part-Veela.

“Very well, very well, it’s in fine working order,” he confirmed, before scooping up the
flowers and handing them to Fleur, along with her wand, “Mister Diggory, you next.”

Fleur approached her seat again, brushing past Harry as she did so, “Your eyes, zey are
wandering ‘Arry,” she teased him, earning a lazy smirk from the green eyed boy.

“They aren’t wandering,” he assured her, “they are exactly where I intend them to be,”
he snorted in amusement, “I don’t think your headmistress likes me,” Indeed, Madame
Maxime was trying as hard as she could to kill Harry with her glare.

“She was not very impressed by your behaviour ze ozzer week,” Fleur smirked, taking
Cedric’s seat beside Harry. She crossed her arms just under her bosom and crossed her
legs in a way that caused her to lean slightly into the boy, “I find it most amusing, I must say.”

Harry nodded distractedly, eyeing the furiously scribbling Rita Skeeter with amusement,
“You may want to read tomorrow’s morning of the Daily Prophet, I’m sure your headmistress
will love it.”

He didn’t elaborate on the meaning of his statement as Cedric handed his wand to Mister
Ollivander, “Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn’t it?” he said with enthusiasm clear in his
voice, “Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from a particularly fine male unicorn
. . . a rather proud one at that . . . nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail.
Twelve and a quarter inches . . . ash . . . pleasantly springy. It’s in fine condition, you
treat it regularly?”

“Polished it last night,” said a grinning Cedric, proud by the praise of his wand.

All this talk about wands made Harry remember his very own. The Elder Wand was,
without a doubt, the most powerful wand in the world. Its performance in casting all
branches of magic he tried in the last six years was more than enough proof of that. He
was now holding it in both hands, peering at it with a forlorn expression. Fleur looked on
curiously, never having seen his wand close up. She looked impressed by its condition
and appearance – Harry couldn’t blame her, it definitely was one of a kind.

Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric’s
wand, pronounced himself satisfied with its condition and performance, and then said,
“Mister Krum, if you please.”

Krum stood with a scowl, slouched his shoulders, and made his way over to Ollivander.
The Bulgarian seeker handed over his wand and eyed the shorter man sternly.
“Hmm,” said Mister Ollivander, “this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I’m much mistaken?
A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I . . . however . . .”

He lifted it to his eyes, examining it closely, turning it over before his eyes before nodding
his head.

“Yes, hornbeam and dragon heartstring?” he shot at Krum, who nodded, impressed with
the analysis. “Rather thicker than one usually sees . . . quite rigid . . . ten and a quarter
inches . . . Avis!”

Krum’s wand let out a shotgun-like blast, as a number of small, twittering birds flew out of
the end, and through the open window and into the cloudless sky.

“Good,” said Ollivander, handing Krum his wand. “Finally, we have . . . Mister Longbottom.”

Neville walked over to Ollivander proudly and handed the man a finely polished wand, “Ah
yes,” said the man, “Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember.”

Neville looked proud as Ollivander was spending much longer time then the rest examining
his wand, “Holly, eleven inches, single feather from the tail of a Phoenix. A great wand, a
great wand indeed . . . one of my finest creations.”

After examining it closely, he swished the wand extravagantly and conjured a brilliant
glass goblet. Harry idly noticed, with amusement, that the man added a few too many
wand movements than necessary in that spell. A fine wand-maker he may be, but a great
spell caster he was not. Ollivander then produced some wine out of the tip of the wand and
filled the glass to the brim before vanishing it and handing Neville back his wand.

“It is in magnificent condition, as expected of my best work,” he beamed at Dumbledore,

who nodded in thanks, a smile marring his bearded features.

“Thank you all,” Dumbledore said, standing up from the judge’s table, “You may go back to
your lessons, or perhaps it would be quicker to go straight to dinner, lessons are about to
end . . .”

Harry, wondering what the hell he was doing here, was about to get up and leave when
Ludo Bagman and a man carrying a large black camera jumped from their seats.

“Photos, Dumbledore, photos!” Bagman cried excitedly, “All the judges, champions and
advisers, what do you think Rita?”

“Er – yes, let’s do those first, then perhaps we can jump onto individual interviews,” she
finished, eyeing Neville hungrily. The woman was a pest, Harry knew from experience. At
least she was focusing her attention on Longbottom, rather than him, for once.

The photographs took a fairly long time, only serving to annoy Harry further. Every time
Harry tried to sneak out of the room, Dumbledore would fix him with a stern gaze, one
that clearly said he wasn’t to leave until everyone was done. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to
be free of this school. If it weren’t for the Room of Requirement, and the fact that it was
too late to obtain a tutor, he’d have left already.

The photographs were tedious and took a rather long time. Madame Maxime, being the
giant that she was, cast a shadow wherever she stood. Also, whenever the photographer
tried to get a picture with her in the frame, he would have to back up to the farthest wall
to do so. Even if that were the case, the others would be too far away from the camera
to make a good picture. Eventually, she had to sit as everyone else stood around her.

Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee, willing it to give that noticeable curl he was so fond off
as his photo was taken, while Krum, who was constantly at Karkaroff’s side, seemed to be
handling the opportunity like a professional – he didn’t look happy about it though.

To Harry’s amusement, the photographer seemed more than eager to get Fleur to the
forefront of each photo while Rita would be pushing for Harry to either stand beside her,
or Neville to be in the forefront. Harry could practically see the headlines for tomorrow
morning’s prophet regarding some other love scandal or another regarding him. Seeing the
giant Beauxbatons headmistress’ reaction to said article would more than make up for
any annoyances it would cause though.

Finally, after separate shots of all the champions, and then some shots of the champions
with their advisers, they were free to go.

Harry was about to leave for the Room of Requirement to work up an appetite before
dinner when none other than Mister Ollivander himself, who had remained behind,
supposedly to speak with him, stopped him with a gentle hand on his forearm.

“Mister Potter,” he greeted the Triwizard advisor mysteriously, “do you mind if we have a
word? It has been some time since we’ve seen each other, of course.”

Eyeing the small man with amusement, Harry nodded and allowed himself to be led into a
random corridor of Hogwarts, away from any reporters, students, or professors who
wished to eavesdrop.

“You wand . . . I take it, it has worked well for you so far?” Ollivander began the
conversation, immediately getting to the point.

Not surprised in the slightest by the topic of conversation, Harry flicked his wrist, palming
his wand in the process, before tracing a loose circle around and above the two of them
and handing it over to the curious wand maker.

“An interesting spell,” Ollivander observed, “I am . . . at a loss for its purpose, however,”
he said as he took the wand in his hand reverently and examined it closely.

“All you need to know is that we will not be overheard,” Harry replied dryly, looking out of
the corner of his eyes as Ollivander examined his wicked looking wand. It’s unicorn
horn-like casing, a ridge beginning from its tip and spiralling down to its base, was met
with a curved, black handle that looked like it would fit well in the palm of someone’s hand.

“Interesting . . . most interesting,” Ollivander mumbled distractedly, Harry figured he was

being totally ignored in favour for the Elder Wand. His wand.

“Your connection with it,” Ollivander began again, nodding in approval at the wand’s
condition, “has it ever . . . dwindled since you received it? Even for the shortest of times?”

“No,” Harry answered immediately, absolutely sure, in fact . . . “if anything, my connection
with it has increased over time.”

“Is that so?” he seemed genuinely curious now, “you’ve never lost a duel with another
wizard or witch then?”

“Back in my first year,” he answered after some thought, “I was practising with an older
student at the time, not sure if it counted as an actual duel though . . . it was more like
dodging practise,” he said dryly, earning an amused chuckle from the wand maker.

“You’ve never duelled with anyone else then?” his grey orbs seemed to peering into his
emerald ones, “not a bully, or someone who has irritated you in the past?”

Harry felt the gentle push of Legilimency assault his senses. Instead of forcing it out
though, he conjured an image in his mind of Professor Vector bent over her desk, her
panties around her ankles and her robes discarded, while getting a good spanking from
yours truly.

As quick as the Legilimency probe arrived, it left, leaving a flustered Ollivander in its
wake. Harry never thought the mysterious old man could become flustered, as he
grinned down at him.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely, “I merely wanted to see if you took my advice seriously
back when I sold you your wand,” he coughed into his hand, “your performance . . . was
satisfactory.”

“Dirty old man,” Harry snorted in amusement, “I haven’t really duelled with anyone other
than that one person back when I was younger. Not even a professor during class.”

“Most interesting,” Ollivander thought out loud, “and your connection with it has
increased, you say?”

“Indeed,” Harry eyed the shorter man, “why the sudden interest?”

“Hmm . . . oh, why the sudden interest?” the wand maker said as he snapped out of his
daze, “merely curious, lad, the wand in the wrong hands would be a dangerous tool . . .
very dangerous.”

“You’re certain that mine aren’t the ‘wrong hands’ then?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“There could be worse hands,” he said in amusement, recalling the Legilimency incident
not a few moments ago, “but yes, I am sure.”

“I see,” Harry said. The two continued to walk, with no destination in mind.

“There isn’t a lot known about the Elder Wand . . . Mister Potter,” Ollivander suddenly
said, breaking the silence, “but one thing that is certain . . . is that it has carved a bloody
path through the ages . . . for wherever the Elder Wand, or as it is sometimes known,
the Deathstick, pops up in history . . . death and destruction is sure to follow.”

“And this concerns me how?” Harry dryly asked, “Nobody but Remus and the two of us
knows that I have it,” he informed the wand maker, “and as far as I know, only two
people can identify it.”

“The Dark Lord Grindelwald . . . and Albus Dumbledore,” Ollivander confirmed

mysteriously, “Albus was the one who delivered to me the wand . . . after he realized it
was not receptive to him in the slightest.”
“Because he didn’t kill Grindelwald?” Harry asked curiously, nobody actually knew what
really happened the day Dumbledore triumphed over Grindelwald, only that the Dark Lord
was arrested and never heard from since.

“Perhaps,” Ollivander agreed, “the way in which he succeeded . . . a plan worthy of a

Slytherin . . . of that I am sure. A fact, Albus was most reluctant to reveal to me.”

“He told you what happened?” Harry’s curiosity got the better of him as he asked the question.

“When he gave me that wand,” he motioned to the Elder Wand still clutched in Harry’s
hand, “but that is a tale for another time . . . for it is not my tale to tell.”

“Whatever,” Harry tried to not let his disappointment show.

“I must warn you, however, Mister Potter,” Ollivander spoke as they stopped walking in
the entrance hall, right before the wand maker was to leave, “that so long as you are
that wand’s master . . . as great a feat that may be . . . you will forever have to watch
over your shoulder, for the person who desires it for their own.”

“That goes for anything you own that someone else wants,” Harry frowned, “I don’t
need you to tell me that someone knowing of my possession of this wand would cause
problems; that won’t be an issue though, will it?” Harry now peered into the elder man’s
eyes, “unless someone who does know chooses to give said information away.”

Ollivander chuckled at Harry’s thinly veiled threat, waving off the lad’s concern casually
with his hand, “I have no intention of doing such a thing, Mister Potter,” his pale eyes did
not mirror his other features’ amusement, “you have no need to worry, now, I must
return to my shop . . . I do have a business to run, after all.”

Harry watched as the wand maker casually strode out the front door, until he passed the
anti-apparation wards, before disappearing in a barely audible pop.

It was only a few days to the first task now; most of them were spent with Cedric holed
up with one of Harry’s books, practising furiously with any spell he found within that he
hadn’t learnt yet.

It would do him no good, Harry had said several times. The plan that they had concocted
made it completely unnecessary, so long as everything went to plan, but that was the
problem. Cedric didn’t want to leave it to chance, he wanted to be prepared for anything.

It was probably the smartest thing the Hufflepuff had ever said.

“You look upset,” Harry commented mildly, as he sat down opposite Archie, by the fire in
the Ravenclaw common room, “you do know that those rashes are curable, right?”

Archie chuckled softly at Harry’s attempt to lighten the mood, or perhaps, to simply
annoy him. He couldn’t tell what Harry’s motives were ninety percent of the time, but he
was thankful regardless.

“It’s not that,” seeing Harry grin, Archie rolled his eyes in annoyances, “there are no
rashes, you tosser,” Harry sighed in disappointment, much to Archie’s amusement, “It’s
Stephanie.”
“Did she get another boyfriend?” Harry asked, a little too eagerly. Archie wondered if
Harry relished in other people’s pain very briefly before banishing such a thought from his mind

Of course he did!

“No, and that’s kind of the problem . . .” Archie said miserably.

“That’s very kinky of you Archades,” Harry deadpanned, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Sweet Merlin, will you shut up?” Archie asked in exasperation, before looking at Harry and
grinning slightly, he enjoyed the banter the two would often engage in, despite his
reactions to it, “I’m trying to find a way to get her to notice me, in a non-brotherly kind of
way . . . the problem is, the more I try, the more she seems to think that I’m happy with
the way things are.”

“That’s amazing,” Harry said in a voice that said the complete opposite, “let me know how
that works out for you.”

“Harry, wait!” Archie called out to his friend, who was about to leave him to wallow in his
self-pity and depression, “can you please help me? It’s driving me crazy having her so
close, yet so far, at the same time!”

“I would love to hear your reasoning behind thinking that this is somehow my field of
expertise,” Harry deadpanned, taking a seat near Archie once again as the boy insisted
to speak in hushed whispers.

“What are you talking about? You and Fleur flirt with each ninety percent of the time
you’re within ten feet of each other,” Archie almost hollered, “that seems to be working
rather well for you, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“That’s not really flirting,” Harry lied smoothly, “that’s a game we’re playing to see who
can cause the other to become flustered the quickest . . .”

“Wow,” Archie exclaimed in a deadpan, “Do you actually believe half the shit that comes
out of your mouth? If you do, I’ve never met someone more deluded than yourself.”

“Whatever, ask a girl or something,” Harry shrugged, “they’d know more than I would.”

Their conversation was interrupted when a random first year entered the common room
looking extremely flustered about something. She looked innocent now, Harry thought,
but that would only last until the slutty older girls got their claws into her, influencing her
beliefs and turned her into one of them, and thus, the cycle of Hogwarts producing
unremarkable slutty teenagers continues.

“Cedric Diggory is asking for someone named Cho Chang,” the girl said in a quiet voice,
the only people that heard her though were Harry and Archie. Seeing as no one was
paying attention to her, the shy girl spoke louder, “Excuse me!” she shouted “A boy
named Cedric Diggory is asking for someone named Cho Chang outside!”

The Ravenclaw seeker looked up from her books in surprise, she was studying by herself
in the corner of the room, as many of the smarter students did during the majority of their
times in their OWL year. Cho seemed flustered at the mention of the Triwizard
champion’s name, but she packed her books up regardless and went to meet with him.
Curiosity getting the better of them, Archie and Harry followed, mainly just to see what
their ‘Casanova’ of a friend was up to. As they exited the common room, right behind
Cho, Cedric looked to them in surprise – he seemed a little flustered himself.

“Harry, Archie!” he yelped in surprise, “what are you doing here?” Cho seemed to want
the same question answered, as she was sending a weak glare at them. Archie wasn’t
fazed, especially after being the victim of Harry’s glare on more than one occasion; this
girl was an absolute rookie in comparison.

Harry made a show of looking around him, but mainly at the common room door, “This is
the Ravenclaw common room,” he deadpanned, “we live here.”

“And what exactly are you doing here Diggory?” Archie asked with a grin, “trying to take
the innocence of another of our fellow housemates?”

Cedric resisted the urge to comment on the fact that it usually wasn’t that hard and
trying was a moot point, but he figured that would be a bad idea around the girl he was
currently interested in.

“Actually,” he sent a hopeful look towards Cho; “I was going to ask Cho if she wanted to
accompany me to the Hogsmeade trip this weekend, in celebration of the First Task being
completed . . .” he trailed off hopefully.

“Assuming you don’t die,” Archie helpfully pointed out.

“You know he just wants to shag you, right?” Harry informed the flustered Chinese girl
with a grin, cock-blocking Cedric was fun, “he’s like one of those dirty guys you hear
about, only interested in the sex and doesn’t care about the relationship.”

“He’s just asking for a date,” Cho frowned, not approving of Harry’s crude language, “It’s
not like I’m going to spread my legs for him just because we’re going on a date, give me
some credit," she said in exasperation, "I’m not like the other whores at this school.”

Harry smirked in the girl’s direction, reminding her just who she was talking to, causing her
to become even more flustered. Anyone who knew anything about Quidditch practically
worshipped the ground this boy walked on! He was a legend at the age of sixteen!

“I approve,” Harry suddenly said, snapping her out of her daze and shocking Cedric
slightly, “Cedric really is a man whore, but apparently, he’s taken a genuine interest in
you, and while I don’t think you’ll last for more than two-weeks, tops, it will be amusing
to watch.”

With his two cents given, Harry walked away, as he normally did, to do his own thing,
leaving three gaping teenagers behind.

“Well,” Archie spoke up, “that was unexpected.”

“Didn’t you tell me he was your friend?” Cho frowned, “he doesn’t seem very nice to you .
. . or anyone.”

“Harry’s a dick,” Archie helpfully informed the girl, “hang around him for long enough and
that becomes apparent, but he’s a funny dick, and he genuinely cares about his friends . .
. in an extremely warped kind of way.”
“He bought me my Firebolt as a ‘thank-you’,” Cedric informed the shocked, and slightly
envious girl, “that’s got to count for something.”

“Anyway,” Cho interrupted with, snapping the three of them out of their contemplative
dazes, “I need a break from studying, let’s go take a walk by the lake,” Cho practically
ordered Cedric, who complied immediately, “and tuck in your shirt, I’ll not be seen with a
scruffy boy walking me around,” she commented with a smile as Cedric quickly did as she aske

“Wow,” Archie said in amazement, “you’ve already got him whipped . . .” suddenly, a
thought popped into his mind, something Harry said earlier.

Cho was a girl, right? Maybe he’d talk to her later, assuming she was still on speaking
terms with Cedric when they were done with whatever they were doing. If they were,
Cedric could convince her to help him!

That just had to work!

Because if it didn’t, he was out of ideas . . .

Harry was making his way to the Room of Requirement, intent on getting in a good three
hours of battle practise before he would go to dinner. This year, he’d found that he’d
begun to use all of the time he used to spend practising with his Quidditch team, and used
it to make use of the wondrous room.

It was certainly a better use of his time, in the grand scheme of things.

Though, to be fair, he really couldn’t complain, especially since the money alone was
more than he’d ever hoped to obtain through that venture. Especially with all the goals
he was scoring, and the royalties he received from ‘Harry Potter’ merchandise.

Just then, he was surprised to hear a shriek of fright followed by a little blonde blur
rushing towards him, three Slytherin boys on her tail, laughing raucously as they did so.
It was Malfoy and his friends, and the little blonde blur was none other than Gabrielle Delacour.

This situation had the potential to be either really annoying, or highly amusing.
Unfortunately for Malfoy, Harry opted for the latter; so, he manipulated the situation in
his favour so it would be so.

Without realizing, as she was looking over her shoulder every few moments as she ran,
Gabrielle ran head first into an amused Harry. The girl almost felt like she ran into a brick
wall, and she almost thought she did were it not for the ‘brick wall’ in question looking
down on her with a smirk.

Harry could read the mixed emotions coming from the girl as if she were yelling them to
him: Fear, hope, helplessness, delight, anticipation and resignation. It was actually
father funny to see them all pass through her features at once, she looked a little
constipated as they did.

Malfoy and his two friends suddenly stopped running when they saw Harry standing over
the downed form of Gabrielle with an amused expression. Feeling brave, Malfoy
approached Harry with his head held high.

“Are you going to help us teach this little half-breed a lesson then Potter?” Malfoy
demanded imperiously, “the little brat had the nerve to step on my recently polished
shoes and not beg for my forgiveness immediately after doing so.”

Crabbe and Goyle were still panting from the run they had just been on, it was rather
obvious that the large boys weren’t used to physically exerting activities, at all.

Gabrielle watched as her ex-hero crouched down to her level, completely ignoring the
mean boys that were chasing her and looking directly into her eyes.

“You’re part-Veela,” Harry said needlessly, “are you not?”

“Y-yes,” she answered shakily, seemingly terrified by the situation.

“Why don’t you use your charm to help you out of this situation then?” Harry inquired,
trying not to seem to threatening. He needed her to be alert and willing for this to work,
after all.

“Mother and Grandmother,” she began in a shaky voice, “they always say that I shouldn’t
use such abilities lightly,” she said, her voice laced with emotion.

“So you’re trained in how to use them then?” the grin on Harry’s face eased her nerves
slightly as she nodded shyly. She hadn’t had a civil conversation with ‘Harry Potter’
before, and even though he was a big meanie, she was still waiting for him to apologise
to her so she could forgive him for acting the way he did towards her.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle looked on with confusion, Draco being the only one who could
slightly follow the conversation thanks to the basic lessons in French he received from his
mother as a child.

“Use them then,” Harry urged her eagerly, “This is the kind of situation where powers like
your Veela charm would come in handy.”

Gabrielle looked towards the confused boys before turning her gaze onto Harry once
again, “What good would that do?” she asked, still obviously fearful of the older and
larger boys, “Mother and Grandmother always tell me that to use my powers for such
trivial things is unbecoming of a lady, they would be most displeased if they heard of me
using it . . .”

“Gabrielle,” Harry said kindly, “your mother and grandmother are idiots, don’t worry
about what they say,” he informed the gobsmacked little girl – no one had ever called
her mother or grandmother an idiot before!

“W-what do you mean?” she asked shakily, “You must understand the dangers of using
my charm so lightly.”

“Lies, all of it,” Harry assured her, before speaking again “This is what I want you to do,
don’t question it, just do it, okay?”

Gabrielle nodded, eager to do just about anything to get out of this situation. Harry
leaned towards her and brushed her hair away form her ear, an action that caused the
little girl to flush brilliantly, before whispering a few words into the flustered girl’s ear.

Once done, she looked at him with shock and a little trepidation, not sure if such a thing
would work. As she was about to question his motives, he held up his hand to silence
her, and pointed to the three Slytherins.

“Don’t question,” he reminded the blonde part-Veela, “just do it.”

Nodding, Gabrielle bent her head forward slightly and turned towards the three
Slytherins. They looked at her curiously, wondering if she was going to beg for their
forgiveness, when she suddenly whipped her head up and gave them a large, dazzling
smile. Her large blue eyes, much like her sisters, were twinkling merrily as she did so.
Despite how wrong the situation would seem to most, the three boys couldn’t help but
gape incredulously at her, as a sudden euphoria assaulted their senses, causing them to
let out simultaneous pleased sighs.

“Boys,” she asked slowly and kindly, hoping they would understand her; her Veela charm
working at full blast, “you are going to apologise to me for scaring me like that, are you not?”

Harry frowned, that didn’t seem to work. He figured they couldn’t understand her, so he
chose to remedy that situation.

“The lady asked you to apologise,” he informed the three stumped Slytherins who were
too far gone to realize just what the hell was going on, “you don’t want to keep her
waiting do you?”

They all enthusiastically shook their heads in the negative before stumbling over their
words and mumbling poorly constructed apologies. They seemed to have trouble
accessing even the lower functions of their brains, as they struggled with stringing
together coherent sentences.

“You forgot the main part Gabrielle,” Harry chided, “You need to leave them with a
reminder, something to think about if they ever think of bothering you again.”

“Will it not hurt them though?” she asked with a worried frown, they seemed like such
nice boys now! “I don’t want to hurt them.”

“They’re nasty boys,” Harry urged, “they would have hurt you had I not helped you, are
you going to let them off so easily?”

A determined frown came over her cute features as she squared her shoulders and walked
right up to Malfoy. Draco looked at her with a little confusion and reverence, the girl’s
Veela charm still flaring wildly and affecting his senses.

Before any of the Slytherins could understand what was going on, Gabrielle reared her
leg back before swinging and planting the tip of her buckled shoe into Malfoy’s testes.
Hard. Harry mentally cheered as he struggled not to roll on the floor laughing – Lock me
up in Azkaban, will you Lucius? Try to enter me in the Triwizard cup, ey?

Malfoy grasped his crotch as his face turned a weird shade of green. Letting out a
mixture between a gasp and a squeal, he fell to the floor grasping his family jewels and
crying like a little girl. Harry couldn’t really fault him for that, he’d probably be crying too if
he’d been kicked like that.

Crabbe and Goyle, too far gone by the flaring Veela charm didn’t even attempt to stop the
little girl’s mean kick, as they too, were sent to the floor with their buddy.

“Don’t you feel better now, Gabrielle?” asked Harry in a fake kind voice, trying to suppress
the laughter that threatened to spill out. He was creating a mini-Stephanie! This one,
however, would be much more ruthless and deadly to the male species!

“The blonde one threw up,” she pointed out blankly, though truthfully.

“Don’t worry about him,” Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and ushered her away from
the scene before talking to her again, “If anybody bothers you like they did again, you
do what I just told you to do to them, okay?”

Seeing the worried look on her face, Harry interrupted any protests, “If you get in trouble
with your mother or grandmother, I give you my explicit permission to tell them that
‘Harry Potter’ said it was okay.”

“What about my sister?” Gabrielle asked with a cute frown, “she will most likely not be
pleased either.”

“Tell her what happened to cause you to react in such a way,” Harry informed the
soon-to-be little hellion, “she’ll probably do the same thing that you did, only with more
strength,” he assured the now smiling girl. That’s it; he needed her to trust him, to adore
him again. Especially if he wanted her to go around and smashing the toe of her shoes
into Malfoy’s testes – that was just hilarious!

Now, all that he needed to do was to somehow get Archie to slip up around her. Some may
call him cruel by manipulating a little girl into toe-bashing his friend right in the nut-sack . . .

Those people would be right.

“You nervous?” Harry asked, Cedric was getting a little irritated at how amused Harry was
by his unease.

“Yeah,” Cedric said incredulously, “just a bit.”

“Well, you should be,” Harry informed the Triwizard champion, “Gorpack are known to be
the best hunters in the world,” Harry unhelpfully lectured, “their insistence on only
hunting and attacking in groups only makes them all the more dangerous, you know, I
heard that three of them could take down a fully grown Dragon,” he informed the pale
face Cedric, “given that they’re in their element that is. I’d imagine that hunting someone
with the cover of a ridiculously large forest and lots of dark places to hide in would be
considered their element, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re not helping,” Cedric snapped at Harry, who only grinned happily in response.

“I heard that if Gorpack are hunting you,” Harry continued, “that they can spot your
footprint amongst a herd of Centaur prints, then, just by glancing at it, can determine
the speed and direction in which you were travelling at during the time the print was made
– pretty amazing, huh?”

Cedric looked over to his fellow pale-faced champions. They all had the same look that he
did on their faces, save Neville – he just looked like he wanted to run and hide. The
others, they looked like they were contemplating whether they’d get in trouble if they
were to simultaneously use the Cruciatus curse on him.

“They’re faster than humans, stronger than humans, smarter – given the right
circumstances . . . you must be scared.”

The hands of Fleur, Cedric, and Viktor all twitched towards their wands simultaneously,
unbeknownst to the others in the room.

“Will you please stop ‘arassing my school’s champion, leettle boy?” Maxime asked furiously,
“I ‘ave ‘alf a mind to come over zere . . .”

“Sorry Madame,” Harry interrupted with faux politeness, “did you not see the sign? I only
take sexual propositions between people in,” he held his two hands in a height range that
closely resembled the height of the average girl, “this height range.”

Cedric, and pretty much everyone else in the room (including Karkaroff), gaped at the
boy’s cheek. Madame Maxime rose to her full, imposing height, trembling in fury.

“You may get away wiz your cheek when you do eet in front of Dumbly-dorr, but I will not
stand for eet,” she snapped angrily, “mark my words, I will ‘ave you expelled by ze time
zis tournament is over.”

Harry looked at the large woman sympathetically, “I imagine you don’t get turned down
often then?” he then looked over to Fleur, “I’m sorry Fleur, but I’m going to have to
decline that proposition of a threesome with your lovely headmistress, I don’t think she
likes me much.”

Fleur palmed her face as the furious woman rounded on her with an incredulous stare.

“He is having you on again, Madame,” Fleur informed the large woman in exasperation,
“You would do better to just ignore him, otherwise he’ll just keep going.”

The champions and their advisers were all couped up in a tent by the Forbidden Forest;
moments away form the beginning of the First Task. Over the past half an hour or so,
the sounds of hundreds of students’ footsteps making their way over to the makeshift
stadium were the only real thing the occupants of the spacious tent had to let them know
that they were, indeed, moments away from the true commencement of the tournament.

“We will be having words about your relationship with this boy, Miss Delacour,” Madame
Maxime spoke up, “of this I assure you.”

Harry shook his head in amusement, he didn’t know why he tried so hard to annoy
Karkaroff and Maxime the way he did. It was just so easy that it really wasn’t even a
challenge. Maybe his frustrations at having to waste his time at this school when he could
be travelling around the world, finding the ingredients needed to cure his mother, were
finally getting to him.

He’d have to do something about that next year.

The tent flapped opened, allowing in a beaming Ludo Bagman who had a quick few words
with the queasy looking Longbottom before moving over to the centre of the tent, ready
to address all of those in the room.

Performing a final headcount, making sure that everyone necessary was present,
Bagman smiled happily and addressed them, “Well, now that we’re all here,” he beamed,
Harry didn’t like how much this man smiled, “time to fill you in!” he said brightly, “When
the audience has been assembled completely, I’m going to lay four rolls of parchment
down on those pedestals over there,” he motioned to four elaborately decorated
pedestals lined alone the far side of the tent, “You will each select one parchment that will
dictate your goals in the task ahead. There’s one more thing,” he smiled happily, “your
task, that is to say, is that of a Treasure Hunt! You need to gather all the items
mentioned on that list!”

Cedric, Fleur, Viktor and Neville didn’t look too pleased by the prospect, mainly because
they’d probably have to be wandering around a dangerous forest, a pack of Gorpack out
for blood on their tails, all the while searching for whatever was on that list of Bagman’s.

Maxime and Karkaroff gave some last words of advice to their champions before making
their way out to the judge’s table outside. Moody glared down at Longbottom before
leaning down and whispering something harshly into his ear, the boy seemed to nod in
understanding, while calming down a little, before the ex-Auror too, made his way outside.

“Alright, Harry?” Cedric asked shakily. If Cedric expected a pep talk from him, he’d be
sorely disappointed.

“Stick to the plan,” Harry informed the Hufflepuff, “it hasn’t changed at all, if anything,
your job has just become a whole lot easier.”

“Yeah,” Cedric nodded, gaining a little confidence despite the lack of any real
encouragement, “Yeah, you’re right. This shouldn’t be too hard . . . unless the plan fails .
. . and then I’m screwed.”

“Oh, one last bit of advice,” Harry smirked at Cedric just before he too was about to
leave the tent, “Gorpack don’t speak English, or any human language for that matter,”
he added as an afterthought, “I’d imagine that would make your job a little bit more difficult . . .”

“A little more difficult?” Cedric squeaked in alarm, “Is he insane?!”

As the crowd was finally assembled, a beaming Bagman, accompanied by a bored looking
Crouch, entered the tent for the final time before the commencement of the tasks.

“You’ve all been informed of the basic outline of this task, and what you must do,” Crouch
spoke up as he had all the champions stand in a line before him, “Mister Bagman has now
placed the four scrolls of parchment on the pedestals over there . . . you will, only after
your name is called, go and select one, and only one, before returning back to your
position here. The scrolls are charmed not to open until you are in the Forest, any questions?”

Cedric had about a million, but he didn’t think it smart to question one of the Tournament
organizers about the unmentioned Gorpack just yet.

“Ladies first, Miss Delacour,” Bagman beamed, “go and select a scroll and return to your
position in the line.”

Fleur did just that, selecting the far left one before returning to her position beside
Viktor. The other three champions did much the same thing, taking a random scroll before
returning to their positions. Neville was the last to go, not that it really mattered, as
Crouch spoke up again.

“The task,” he said, “is about to begin, so, it is now that we will tell you what it shall fully
entail. Within the forest, as well as its natural deadly inhabitants, are twelve Gorpack
waiting for you, lying in wait,” Cedric was impressed at how well they all acted surprised
by the claim, “They have been assigned to hunt for each of you in packs of three, so, as
you go on your treasure hunt, they, too, will be hunting you.”

Motioning to the scrolls in their hands, he continued, “They have been told to treat this
is a game, and not to kill on sight like they would normally do, but I wouldn’t risk
confronting them to test that fact – Gorpack are vicious creatures,” he explained, “once
you have collected all the items that are on your lists, you are to proceed out of the
forest as quickly as possible. The second you cross the ward line surrounding the forest,
the task is over for you and you will be scored based on your performance – are there
any questions?”

Longbottom raised his hand, “Are we allowed to fight the Gorpack if they capture us?” he
asked, sounding every bit as afraid as he looked. Cedric frowned at the ‘Boy-who-lived’,
letting him compete in a competition that he was obviously unprepared for was cruel and
unusual. Nobody said that he had to compete well. He could just as easily exit the forest
immediately after he entered to satisfy the contract – sure, he wouldn’t score well, but
he wouldn’t die either.

Crouch snorted in amusement, “There are no rules saying that you cannot, but I would
not advise it,” Crouch warned with an amused tone, “only if you value your life, that is.”

Seeing as there was no more questions, Crouch spoke again, “Follow me to the starting
positions, you will each be entering the forest from different positions,” Crouch
explained, “when the flare goes off, you are to begin, follow me . . . follow me.”

The four champions exited the tent from the back entrance; they weren’t going to be
seeing the crowd until the task was over. This was probably for the best, Cedric mused,
for his nerves, at least.

“So this is one of those Pensieve screens then,” Archie exclaimed in awe. The entire
school had gathered in a stadium surrounding a large Pensieve screen. As the feed was
coming to them, it would be projected to the crowd as if they were watching the events
within the forest unfold from within the trees. It was unbelievably realistic; like they cut
out a section of the forest and placed it in the space the crowd was gathered around.

The new magical technology worked just like being within an actual Pensieve, but it was
projected outwards so many could witness the memory, rather than inwards so that only
few could. It was a rather simple, yet brilliant bit of magic.

“You didn’t see it at the World Cup?” Harry asked with a raised brow, “there were two
there, after all.”

“Nah,” Archie chuckled “If I wasn’t looking after little Gabby here, I was watching the
game with my own two eyes. It’s a nice bit of magic, sure, but I went to the game to see
it with my own eyes, not through a Pensieve screen, you know?”

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, “Whatever,” at the moment, the screen was sending feeds
of random key locations within the forest, mainly, the locations of the items that needed
to be retrieved by the champions.

“But Gorpack Hunters?” Stephanie asked from beside them, “Aren’t they supposed to be
vicious? I heard that they used to kill Nundu in Africa for their Ministry a while ago, and
they were very good at it,” she said worriedly, “do you think Cedric and Fleur will be okay?”
Harry shrugged as Archie grinned in amusement, what about Krum and Longbottom?

“The champions all knew about what was going to be in that forest weeks ago,” Harry
informed them in a quiet voice, “I found out by tailing Karkaroff into the forest, who was
telling Krum at the time. They’ve all had ample time to prepare.”

“What’s Cedric’s plan?” Archie asked interested, “You didn’t give him bogus information
that would get him killed, did you?”

Stephanie looked worried by the prospect too, Harry found it amusing how little faith they
had in him, though, he supposed there was a reason for that.

“I gave him good information,” Harry placated them, “Whether it gets him killed or not is
another story – you know how much Gorpack love to hunt strong prey . . .”

Archie scrutinized Harry for a few moments before the boy’s eyes widened in shock,
“Harry!” he yelled incredulously, “you told Cedric about the location of the Vorpala nest,
didn’t you?”

“The what?” Stephanie asked in shock, “why would you do something like that?!”

Harry eyed her lazily, amused by their antics, “Just watch,” Harry grinned, “you’ll be surprised.”

Funnily enough, that didn’t seem to placate them.

“Harry,” Gabrielle called crossly, “That boy over there poked his tongue at me, should I
kick him?”

Harry pat her on the head affectionately, “Maybe later Gabrielle,” he grinned at
Stephanie’s horror filled face, “after we make sure your sister doesn’t die during the task.”

The girl finally began to understand the seriousness of the contest at Harry’s words.
Originally, she wasn’t concerned in the slightest; her sister was the greatest, after all!
But now, she wasn’t so sure . . . those Gorpack beasts Stephanie was telling her about
earlier didn’t exactly sound weak . . .

Gabrielle looked up to Harry with two large blue eyes, they were shimmering with unshed
tears, “She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?” it was more of a statement than an actual
question “Isn’t she Harry?”

“She will be fine Gabrielle,” Stephanie was quick to assure the girl before Harry damaged
her for life.

Harry grinned at Stephanie who glared at him and placed a protective arm around
Gabby’s shoulder. You are too late Stephanie, is what Harry’s grin practically screamed;
the girl was already in his pocket.

“Hey, I just thought of something,” Archie spoke up, “Pensieve screens work by
streaming someone’s memories, right?” he paused, getting a nod from Stephanie,
“whose memories are they streaming then?”

“House elves,” Harry answered the surprised teens, “they can transport themselves
throughout the forest, and remain invisible as they do it.”
“Serious?” Archie asked, surprised by the claim.

“Can you think of anyone better?” Harry countered. Archie couldn’t answer.

“Ladies and Gentleman,” Dumbledore’s voice boomed over the crowd, “welcome, to the
First Task of the Triwizard Tournament!”

The crowd cheered and Dumbledore waited patiently for the noise to die down.

“As you have all been made aware by Mister Bagman earlier,” the ex-beater beamed
jovially at them all with the mention of his name, “the champions have been tasked with
venturing into the Forbidden Forest, collecting three items that have been pointed out to
them already, and making it back out, all the while, avoiding a group of Gorpack.”

There were more cheers of approval from the excited onlookers, apparently, the more
dangerous the task, the more exciting it would be.

“Yes, quite exciting,” Dumbledore said happily, “we will be able to watch each champion
through the Pensieve screen we have obtained, just for these tasks,” his eyes twinkled
merrily as he continued to speak, “The judge’s will score based on each champion’s
cunning, daring, resourcefulness and overall performance, the best performance will
warrant the highest score. To promote fairness and impartiality, the five of us will score
their performance fairly to the best of our abilities.”

The excitement that was building in anticipation of the task was starting to become easily
apparent. Archie was practically bouncing in his seat, Gabrielle practically climbing on top
of him to get a better view.

“So,” Dumbledore called out, “without further ado,” as he wound up to start the task, the
space the stadium was build around lit up, showing Cedric standing on the outskirts of the
forest. The image flicked over to Fleur in a similar position, then Neville, and finally Krum,
“The First task of the Triwizard Tournament has officially . . . begun!”

He fired off an incredibly loud gunshot like fire from the tip of his wand, alerting the other
champions to the beginning of the task. The crowd cheered wildly as the Pensieve
screen showed the champions running quickly into the darkness of the forest, the house
elf ‘camera-men’ following hot on their tails.

Neville looked around nervously. He could no longer hear the roars of the crowd like he
could at the starting point. After running in a straight line into the forest for a few
minutes, the sounds eventually completely died out.

In fact, all sounds died out.

Quickly sticking to the plan Moody had coached him on, he dug his hand into his pocket
and pulled out his wand before shouting, “Accio Invisibility Cloak!”

Positive his spell would work, Neville reached into his other pocket and pulled out the
scroll he had picked back in the champion’s tent. Breaking the wax seal, he unrolled it to
see a blank page. Frowning in confusion, he was about to panic because his page was
faulty until writing started to magically appear.
Dear Triwizard Champion Neville Longbottom,

Your task for this portion of the Tournament is to locate three key ingredients for an
unnamed Potion.

Tournament officials have already checked, and confirmed, that the ingredients are within
the forest.

You must use your skills to help you find:

Seven Petals of a Nightmare Flower

Acromantula Egg Shell Fragments

Furple Grass

That was okay; Neville knew all of those ingredients, and the kind of places he could find
them. Nightmare Flower usually grows in the shade, Acromantula shells would be near . .
. Acromantula and Furple grass grew in damp areas.

Remembering another bit of information Moody gave him, Neville ran over to a pile of
mud he saw nearby and scooped up a generous amount. Grimacing slightly, he rubbed it
into his uniform and over his face. Moody had told him, back when he first found out
about the Gorpack, that it should help to cover his scent.

Just as he finished applying the mud to his body, a shimmering cloak came zipping right
past him and landed in his hand. With a cocky grin, he draped it over his shoulder,
vanishing from sight.

In his haste, he missed the three sets of eyes watching on in a predatory fashion.

Fleur Delacour walked slowly and meticulously through the Forest they had been dumped
in for this task. In the weeks of preparation she had after being informed of the Gorpack
now residing here, she figured she would even the playing field in her spare time.

She spent the majority of the nights here, alone, mapping out the forest to the best of her
ability. She was confident that she knew at least twenty good hiding spots, and countless
routes through the majority of the forest that would allow her to not leave a trail to follow.

The patch she was currently walking through was mainly one of dirt and stones. One
would normally be worried about leaving footprints, but Fleur was counting on them to
use to her advantage.

At the beginning of the task, the second she set out, Fleur transfigured three large rocks
so they had had feet that mirrored hers perfectly. With the ability to walk, and leave
footprints identical to hers, she set them out, casting a mild Confundus charm on them,
into random directions into the forest after disguising them with a Disillusionment charm.

Fleur, did not, however, become the Beauxbatons champion by being stupid. She knew
that that little stunt was a minor distraction at best. The Gorpack would quickly find the
walking stones, destroy them, and find the only other trail left available to them.

In response to that, she devised another plan to buy her more time so that she could
complete her task. She made sure that the path she was actually taking was the one
with the most visible signs of travel. She made sure to snap as many twigs, leave as
many footprints, and ruffle the most leaves so as to confuse the Gorpack.

When confronted with multiple trails to follow, Fleur was certain that the Gorpack would
suspect trickery to be the cause of it. They would suspect that she deliberately set up
several different trails to follow, and in response to that, they would then suspect the trail
with the least visible travel signs to be the one she took.

She was hoping, in that regard, that they would underestimate her cunning and not
expect her to do the exact opposite. She hoped that they would first go for the subtler
of paths, ignoring the ones that looked like a stampede of Griffins had stormed through.

The best-case scenario, in her opinion, would be if, to save time, the Gorpack would split
up, to try and find her. Divide and conquer, as it were. She was not foolish enough to
believe that they would engage her on their own, but they definitely could locate her as
such. She was hoping, however, that her portable perimeter ward would locate the
creature as soon as it crossed the ward line surrounding her in a hundred foot radius. It
was one of her more brilliant charms; it was like a portable perimeter ward.

The only downside was that she had to move really slowly, less she run the risk of losing
her concentration and dropping the ward at a crucial moment. That, luckily for her, was a
risk she was willing to take.

When the first Gorpack spotted her, she would pounce on it, unleashing the full force of
her Veela charm on the poor creature, and then entice it into sending his comrades off her
trail. It was the best plan she had; play to her strengths, and always be two steps ahead.

The ingredients on her list didn’t look too difficult to find, she knew from her Herbology
classes back in Beauxbatons the kind of habitat each plant grew in. All she had to do was
stall for time, get her ingredients, and get her ass out of there as soon as possible.

If the Gorpack foiled her well laid out plan, well, she always had her sword . . .

If Viktor Krum knew one thing, it was that his strength didn’t lie in subtlety. Karkaroff has
reluctantly informed him as much after they had brainstormed the possible reasoning for
having the Gorpack involved in the task.

Subtlety was not one of his strengths, that was true enough, but that didn’t mean he
couldn’t be cunning when he needed to be. His father had drilled it into his head, ever
since he was a child, that the world was a harsh place, and that usually, the smarter man
was the one who could stay alive for the longest.

One didn’t live with an ideology like that without learning some key survival tactics.

Setting magical traps, and learning to lure his prey into them was one of those said tactics.

The high master had pretty much told him that the Gorpack will find him, and they will do
so quickly. Krum was counting on that fact, hoping they found his trail to be so
ridiculously easy to track that they would rush him recklessly and fall one of his numerous traps

The trees of the forest were so close together in this section that Krum could easily leap
from one to another, without ever setting a foot on the ground. Sure, it was extremely
physically exerting, but his Quidditch training made up for that. This gave him the
advantage of having a better view of his surrounding as well as being more easily able to
plant evidence of his movements as he travelled.

He had magically created pitfalls, log traps, hidden spike walls, rope traps and several
triggered charm traps. If the Gorpack were skilled enough to even evade most of his well
laid out traps, they would definitely have used a good part of their energy reserves to
do so. When they finally caught him, it would be a simple task to bind them and keep
them busy until he found these pesky plants.

He didn’t need subtlety when he had ingenious planning on his side. People thought him
stupid and talentless because he didn’t speak well or often – he would use that to his
advantage and crush his opposition.

Now . . . to find those stupid plants, what the hell was a Mumbumble Fruit? Who thought
of these stupid names?

Cedric Diggory sat nervously in an open field. This plan, he knew, was risky, but he
trusted Harry to at least not lead him into a situation that he couldn’t totally get out of –
even if he got hurt a little in the process. Even if he was having other ideas though, the
one Harry had provided him with was the one that sounded the best, and the smartest.

A plan that was sneaky and audacious enough that it had Harry’s name practically written
all over it.

He had opened his list immediately upon entering the forest, not entirely focused on
getting as far away as possible, and has been surprised with its contents.

It looked to be a list of Potions ingredients.

He was rubbish at Potions, and Herbology, for that matter. His strengths lied in
Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures. He also put
a fair up a fair display in Charms too, but Herbology and Potions were two classes he
definitely was not taking during his NEWT years.

It was a good thing then, that Harry’s plan, completely by luck, had saved him from failing
in a most embarrassing fashion.

All he needed to do was to wait for the Gorpack to find him.

He allowed a small snort of amusement to escape at the way in which his actions must
look to the spectators who must be watching the proceedings from a safe distance.

Instead of rushing, or acting subtly, or even trying to avoid the Gorpack. Cedric had found
the first clearing he could and set up a small camp. He had placed up a perimeter ward he
had learned earlier this year in charms, to alert him when the Gorpack finally arrived, and
just waited.

To make their task easier, he even lit a campfire – or a signal fire, if you named it based on
the circumstances it was used for.

The one part of the plan he had to wing was how he was to overcome the language
barrier. That was something that he was really nervous about. He had a plan, and had
already implemented it, he just hoped they didn’t shoot first, and ask questions later.

He hoped the white flag hanging on a stick by the fire was enough to grab their attention
and tell them he wasn’t going to put up a fight.

Not even in the slightest.

This was a plan devised by Harry Potter after all, the boy with the silver tongue and a
business tycoon at the age of fifteen. It was a brilliant, yet extremely risky plan, however,
in his opinion, it probably had the highest chances of providing the best result.

That was what he was here for after all, wasn’t he? To win? This plan definitely had the
potential to win, and that was what he wanted.

Cedric’s plan wasn’t to trick, to fight, or to hide. Cedric’s plan was to bargain.

And when his soon-to-be business partners loved hunting rare and dangerous creatures
more than anything else, he figured his offer would be more than appealing to them.

Which is why he had drawn a really crappy comic strip into the dirt to try and explain his deal

Yes, it was lame, but, given the circumstances, he really couldn’t find it in him to laugh.

Just then, his Quidditch reflexes kicked into overdrive as he leaned back to avoid a spear
to the torso. Quickly, before his pursuers decided to follow up with another, more
dangerous attack – knowing full well that that previous one was a warning shot – he held
up his arms in surrender and motioned for them to come out.

After a few tense moments, three small black figures dropped to the ground in a triangle
formation, completely surrounding him. They let off no signs of emotion, only the way in
which they held their deadly looking spears showing off their intentions.

Moving slowly, so as not to startle them, Cedric motioned to the ground before him.

One of the Gorpack, the leader, Cedric assumed, looked down warily. Cedric didn’t dare
move an inch as he did so, though he took the time to admire his own shitty artwork as
he waited.

It was very similar to a poorly drawn comic strip – he really couldn’t do much else with a
stick as his quill and the dirt as his paper.

The top picture had a tall stick figure surrounded by smaller ones holding crudely drawn
spears. The tall stick figures had his hands up in surrender, in a non-threatening kind of way.

The second picture had a picture of the three plants he needed to find. He didn’t know
where to find them, sure, but he definitely knew what they looked like. Luckily for him,
they each had a distinctive shape. One looked like a cactus, the other like a Venus flytrap
and the last like a large bush. Each plant was drawn so that it was held by the smaller
stick figures. The smaller stick figures then had lines connecting them to the picture of himself.

The third picture, much to his embarrassment, had a picture of the large stick figure
hugging the smaller ones. He could have imagined it, but they looked irritated by that one.

The fourth picture had the large stick figure, followed by the three small stick figures
holding him at spear point, leading them somewhere.

The fifth picture had the four stick figures as usual, but this time, they were not the only
ones depicted in the picture. Instead of just the four of them, the picture also contained
several, large, snake like creatures, each with a wavy aura surrounding them. He hoped
he recognized them to be Vorpala.

He figured they must have recognized it, because all three Gorpack, who had immersed
themselves in trying to translate the shitty images, were talking quickly in a language that
revolved a lot around whistling and clicking, as they pointed to the snakes.

The last picture looked pretty much the same, however, in the middle of it. The Gorpack
and Cedric were shaking hands with arrows pointing each group in different directions.

Cedric hoped that the overall point of the story was simple enough to understand. In
return for help finding the ingredients he needed, he would lead them to a Vorpala nest
and they would leave him be.

Cedric slowly, and tentatively, stretched out his hand, continuing to remain as
non-threatening as possible. He just hoped they accepted the deal before skewering him.

Instead of shaking his hand, a gesture which was probably foreign to them, the leader o
the group – who he now noticed wore a much more elaborate skull mask, walked up to
him and jumped up once, so they were eyelevel, before giving a quick head-but.

“Whoa, what the?” he exclaimed as he staggered; that freaking hurt!

Looking down at the amused looking Gorpack, it launched a small dagger from out of
nowhere right at his face, and had Cedric moved an inch, it probably would have stabbed
him in the face. Instead, it merely grazed his cheek, leaving a cut, before passing
harmlessly by. The message was received loud and clear – they could kill him whenever
they wanted, so don’t mess with them.

Cedric nodded and motioned them to lead the way – he just hoped the Vorpala were
where Harry said they were, or he was screwed!

“That . . . was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen,” Archie exclaimed after two full
minutes of silence. The final champion, Neville Longbottom, had finally come out of the
forest, his ingredients and parchment with him, ending the first round.

The crowd, who were waiting excitedly for the judges’ verdict, were content with
cheering the mostly tired looking group of Champions, the one who was worst off being
Krum, who had two stab wounds in different locations on his body – his shoulder and his ankle.

“Thank you, everyone, thank you,” Dumbledore called over the cheers of the crowd. The
Pensieve screen in the centre was showing the highlights of this round as he spoke, “I
think you’ll all agree with me in saying that all four champions put up a most valiant . . . if
slightly unconventional, showing during this task of the tournament.”

The crowd cheered wildly again, shouts of the champions they were supporting being the
only audible thing through the general consternation. Obviously, Cedric was the one that
was cheered for the most. People probably still thought of him as the home school’s ‘real’
champion.
“Please remain quiet as we go through the scores of each champion,” Dumbledore
pleaded, knowing that it was futile but figuring he may as well try anyway, “Neville
Longbottom,” the Gryffindors actually let out a few cheers at the boy’s name, it seemed
they jumped back on the boy’s bandwagon now that he proved to be successful
somewhat in the tournament, “who cleverly utilized his environment to remain hidden, as
well as a most impressive summoning charm to obtain his invisibility cloak is the first
contestant we will be scoring. Despite his clever avoidance tactics, Neville was captured,
and almost killed, twice during this phase of the tournament, though he was the first to
collect all of his ingredients. Luckily, with clever usage of his surroundings, Neville was
able to escape his captors on both occasions relatively unharmed – Judges, your scores,
if you will?”

Bagman held up a nine, much to the displeasure of all Cedric Diggory fans. Crouch followed
with lazily producing a five, a much more accurate score, according to the stadium.
Dumbledore followed Crouch with a seven, a number that wasn’t too low, or high, for
that matter. Maxime, and finally Karkaroff, both gave the boy fives as well, clearly not
impressed by his performance. His overall score so far was thirty-one.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Dumbledore cheered, as the Gryffindors supported their house

representative, while the Slytherins merely jeered at him, “Next up, we have Fleur
Delacour. Miss Delacour devised an ingenious ‘divide and conquer’ stratagem, setting up
numerous diversionary tactics to buy her time as she searched for her ingredients.
Unfortunately, her plan veered slightly off course when two of the Gorpack hunters
caught up with her and confronted her simultaneously,” the crowd were listening silently,
despite the fact that they had seen it all through the Pensieve, “she did, however, show
her resourcefulness by using her natural abilities to distract them,” he continued to
explain, as the Beauxbatons students cheered wildly and Madame Maxime beamed down
proudly at her, “Unfortunately, the Gorpack proved to be slightly resistant to her charm,
which ended up in an almost mortal wound from a thrown spear. Miss Delacour was,
however, able to deflect the attack and disable one. She then proceeded to place them
both under her charm separately, asking them to report back to their teammate with the
success of their mission, allowing her to finish her task unchallenged, and in the quickest time!”

The Beauxbatons student’s cheers only became louder as the Headmaster’s explanation
finished. The girl smiled weakly as she clutched her bandaged torso, she had received a
heavy gash to her side during that skirmish with the Gorpack.

The judges then showed their scores for Fleur. Bagman held up a ten, and to the surprise
of everyone there, so did Crouch – he didn’t seem like the kind of person to judge easily.
Dumbledore gave her a seven, probably trying to remain as neutral as possible in his
scoring without affecting the competition, while Maxime was proudly showing a ten of
her own. Karkaroff, with a glare at the girl, produced a four, much to the displeasure of
all the occupants of the stadium, mainly the teenage boys. The girl scored an amazing
forty-one for her trouble, the Judge’s seemed to be impressed by her planning and
execution of said plan – it did seem to be a perfect example of her cunning and
resourcefulness, after all. Fleur played this round well.

“Excellent Miss Delacour has taken the lead with that score, wonderful job!” Dumbledore
praised jovially, “Next up on the list is Mister Krum,” The Durmstrang students let out a
roar as their champion was mentioned, “Young Mister Krum showed us all that his tactical
mind does not only extend to the Quidditch pitch with his performance, as he devised a
cunning stratagem to lure his predators into several well placed, if somewhat brutal,
traps before they could encounter him. Unfortunately for Mister Krum, his predators were
able to catch up with him, very disgruntled and worse for wear, before he was able to
make his way out of the forest with his ingredients. Being already damaged from the
traps Mister Krum had set up, the Gorpack hunters put up a heroic effort to try and
subdue the Durmstrang champion, however, young Viktor showed his skills with a wand,
incapacitating one, and unfortunately, killing the third, in his attempt to escape them
unscathed. Judges, your scores, if you please?” he finished sombrely; he didn’t seem too
pleased at Krum’s killing of one of the Gorpack.

Bagman raised his card to show a six, he too didn’t seem too pleased by the killing either.
Crouch, on the other hand, looked amused as he showcased a nine. It was no surprise
when Dumbledore, having shown his distaste for the Quidditch star’s tactics, produced a
five while Madame Maxime produced a four – most likely as a result to Karkaroff’s bias
decision for the Beauxbatons champion. Karkaroff, of course, gave Viktor a score of ten,
putting his total up to thirty-five, only six points behind Fleur.

“Finally, our second Hogwarts champion, and the one to finish second, just behind Miss
Delacour, Cedric Diggory,” the cheers from the majority of the Hogwarts students was
almost deafening, “Mister Diggory used, by far, the most unconventional solution to the
problem we had presented him with, but judging by the fact that he is the least hurt, we
must all agree that his method was the most effective,” more cheered rose up, especially
from the large collection of Hufflepuff students on the opposite side of the stadium to
Harry, Archie and Stephanie, “his clever idea to bargain with the Gorpack - breaking the
language barrier in doing so in a most humorous display of ingenuity, I must say - instead
of avoid them, by using his knowledge of a known Vorpala nest as collateral,” Hagrid, the
care of Magical creatures professor, looked most displeased by that fact, “earned him,
not only his temporary associates’ respect, but aid as they helped him quickly and
efficiently track down his ingredients. Were he not bound by his deal to aid the Gorpack
by showing them the Vorpala nest, he would have finished half an hour before Miss
Delacour, a most impressive feat indeed, for the final time today, Judges, your scores please?”

Bagman smiled brilliantly, showing off a row of pearly white teeth, as he produced an
eight as Crouch, almost immediately, followed up with a nine. Dumbledore, going back to
his neutral scoring method, gave him a seven, while Madame Maxime, recognizing and
appreciating the clever tactics used by the boy, gave him a nine also. Karkaroff, albeit
reluctantly, gave the Hogwarts champion a seven, the total making his score forty, one
point below Fleur.

It took the Beauxbatons students a few moments to discover the overall total of Cedric’s
score, but when they did and realized their school was in the lead after the fist task,
despite how short that lead was, they cheered as loudly as they could for such a small
selection of students. In a show of good sportsmanship, the majority of the crowd also
cheered, pleased with the good show they received.

“Yes, as you all no doubt have gathered, the standings are as follows,” Ludo Bagman
spoke up, as Dumbledore sat and retook his seat, “Coming in at fourth place is the
Boy-who-lived himself, Neville Longbottom, with thirty-one points – good show!” The
Gryffindors cheered on their housemate wildly, much to the boy’s surprise and delight, “In
third place, we have the Durmstrang champion with thirty-five points – Viktor Krum!” the
Durmstrang students, wanting to show their support, roared loudly in approval, regardless
of his position, “in second place, just missing out on first place himself with forty points,
we have the Hufflepuff Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory!” the Hufflepuffs cheered
wildly, along as the majority of the Ravenclaws and Slytherins joined in, the latter doing so
in spite of Longbottom, of that everyone was certain, “And finally, in the lead with
forty-one points, we have the Beauxbatons champion, Fleur Delacour!”
More cheers rose from the crowds as the positions were officially announced, “Now,
before the champions leave so they can properly attend to their wounds,” the champions
in question were all seated towards the exit of the stadium, cradling their rooms or
enjoying the show depending on the situation, “we must inform that champions that they
are to not dispose of the parchment they were given for this task,” Bagman advised, “you
will find that they have been charmed with a clue for the next task in the tournament,
which will occur on the twenty fourth of February.”

Bagman sat down, done with his speech as Dumbledore rose again, “With that, I dub the
first task of the Triwizard tournament complete, if you all would please follow a staff
member back to the castle for dinner, as it is getting quite late, I would be most appreciative.”

“I just don’t get it,” Stephanie said with a frown on her face. They were back in the
common room after dinner while the Champions rested for the night in the Hospital wing
to recover from their wounds. Harry and Archie found it quite amusing when Madame
Pomfrey wouldn’t let Cedric go despite the fact that he was unharmed, “Cedric’s plan
seemed clever on paper, but it doesn’t fit the way in which the Gorpack would have
usually reacted,” she said in exasperation, “with every other champion, it was shoot first,
ask questions later, but with Cedric, they actually heard what he had to say, even going
so far as to look at those ridiculous pictures of his instead of gutting him like they
probably would have . . .”

Archie frowned when she stopped speaking, “You know, she has a point,” he looked to
Harry suspiciously, “Why do I smell foul play?”

“That’s just your upper lip,” Harry said nonchalantly, “I don’t smell anything.”

“Listen asshole, I know you did something to rig it,” Archie said crossly, not liking how
Stephanie would giggle at him whenever Harry insulted him, “there’s no way they would
have understood those ridiculous pictures, let alone waited around for long enough to try to.”

“Of course they wouldn’t,” Harry scoffed, “but what Cedric doesn’t know won’t hurt him,
well, it could have, for all he knew, but it wouldn’t have, and that’s what’s important . . .”

Stephanie and Archie looked at him with blank faces after that confusing explanation,
before Archie broke the silence, “You spoke to them before the competition, didn’t you?”
he deadpanned, “the Gorpack, I mean.”

“Of course I did,” Harry said, “I told Cedric that he’d have to convince them himself
though before the task started, it was funnier that way.”

“So when he looked all nervous before they caught up to him,” Stephanie frowned, “he
was really nervous about the possibility of them gutting him on sight, when you had
already met with them and planned out the whole thing all along?”

“Pretty much,” Harry nodded as he took a sip of his flask to stay the oncoming headache,
“funny, right?”

Stephanie and Archie looked at him incredulously before the latter’s face broke into a small
grin, “Yeah,” he agreed, “just a little – how did you get them to agree, or understand you
for that matter. I don’t see you doodling in the dirt for some reason . . .”
“They respect strength,” Harry shrugged, “I found them in the forest, ambushed them
and disabled them all,” he explained as if he were discussing the weather, “when they
had calmed down a little, I used a translation charm I lifted from one of the workers from
the DRCMC that was here to make sure the Gorpack didn’t leave the forest, and I pretty
much told them that if they helped the boy in yellow, they’d be able to hunt as many
Vorpala as they wanted.”

“By ‘lifted’,” Stephanie asked warily, “what exactly do you mean?” she said, asking the
first thing that came to mind.

“Legilimency, what else?” Harry shrugged.

“You are . . . without a doubt, the scariest person I’ve ever met. You know that right?”
Archie joked, earning a flat stare from Harry in response.

Author's Note:

Chapter has now been betad, if you find any errors now, please put them in a review
(for another chapter, yes, i know of the error), or PM them to me.

The chapter number discrepency is an annoyance i'll have to deal with, because
apparently, i can't leave a chapter alone for that introduction at the beginning of the
first chapter, like i had planned. So, the new chapter one is just the old 1 and 2
combined, overviewed, and fixed, and reposted. This obviously removes a chapter from
the story, but whatever. If you really want to review, do so under anther chapter's number.

On another note i wanted to tell you all, if you cared, was that I, too, think that 'guitar
playing' Harry is incredibly cliche, which is why i was originally going to make it a piano.
Pianos are a lot mor dignified in my opinion too, and better instruments in general.
Unfortunately, it would be a little rediculous carrying around a piano with him
everywhere whenever he wanted to see his mother, or just play it in general - even if he
could shrink it. So i went with the guitar.

Do you even care about that? I don't know, but people bug me enough about it to piss me
off and post an explanation in here, so there it is.

And the next person to ask me a question that is already answered previously in the story,
or in the introduction, is going to get black listed. That pretty much means i'm going to
write your name down and put it at the beginning of the next chapter so everyone can
laugh at the idiots. There's nothing more annoying when someone sends me a PM that goes
like this 'Oh, i'm sorry to be the one to inform you that you made a mistake when you gave
Neville the cloak . . . it was Harry's dad's, so it belongs to Harry . . .' (NO FUCKING
SHIT!!) then there are some that go 'Dude, why does Neville have the cloak and not
Harry? Please Explain, i'm a homo!' - as you can tell, i'm getting annoyed.

Next chapter should hopefully be up by the end of the week (thinking of the second task,
and the clue aiding the champions in regards to it, is harder than thinking of the third task
- which i already have done.)
Chapter: 27
Chapter 28: It’s been a long time coming

“I don’t know why you’re looking so smug,” Harry said to the beautiful blonde part Veela
seated across from him, “the only reason you scored so well is because Bagman and
Crouch were affected by your Veela aura.”

Fleur shrugged indifferently, “And ze only reason why Cedric scored so well eez because
you rigged ze task.”

“Cheating in the actual task is part of the tradition behind the Triwizard Tournament,”
Harry pointed out calmly, “cheating after it to rig your scores, is not. You may as well
give Bagman a blowjob sometime before the next task, he may even give you an eleven.”

Normally, most girls would be highly offended by, well, anything Harry would say to them.
Especially when it concerned them giving blowjobs to ministry officials so they could rig a
scoring system. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on which way you looked at it,
Fleur was not like most girls.

“I tried,” Fleur joked with a disappointed sigh, causing Archie and Stephanie to
simultaneously spit their pumpkin juice and sandwich out of their noses and mouths
respectively, “I do not think ‘e was interested. Perhaps, ‘e is batting for ze ozzer team?”

“He does seem a little too keen on Longbottom,” Harry mused thoughtfully, “either that,
or you’re just bad at sucking dick. You should ask Stephanie for some pointers.”

Cries of ‘Harry!’ and ‘Shut-up, asshole!’ came from their abashed observes; Fleur merely
sent an amused glance towards her friend.

“Still, I don’t know why you’re so smug,” Harry shrugged, “had you not stumbled a little to
the left, you’d have been skewered by that Gorpack’s spear, Cedric, on the other hand,
came out completely unscathed.”

“I did not stumble,” Fleur replied indignantly, discreetly fingering the bandages covering
her torso, “it was a graceful dodge in an incredibly dangerous situation, my skills are
what kept me alive.”

“Right,” he replied, “and Archie still doesn’t have tea parties with his ‘Stephy-bear’,” he
sarcastically quipped, ignoring the horrified gasp coming from the brown haired boy and
the amused glance Stephanie sent in his direction.

“Stephy-bear?” she asked, “Tea parties? Do I even want to know?” Stephanie didn’t look
as peeved or annoyed as Harry hoped she’d be.

Archie thought to deny everything Harry had just said, but the damage was already
done, “No,” he answered dejectedly, “you probably don’t.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Fleur snapped irritably, “’Ad I used my sword, ze situation
would ‘ave been completely different.”
“However,” Harry countered, “knowing that I was watching, you knew you’d rather
almost take a mortal wound than finally prove me right by giving us proof of your
sub-par swordsmanship.”

“She’s the best at Beauxbatons Harry,” Stephanie reminded the ebony haired teen
lightly, eyeing the angry part-Veela warily as she did so.

“I don’t see how that helps her situation any,” Harry shrugged, “it doesn’t mean she’s
any good, it just means everyone else is that bad.”

Archie let out a snort of amusement, one that he quickly had to hide as a coughing fit
when Stephanie glared at him, “Something caught in my throat,” he feebly explained.

“You shouldn’t feel too bad though,” Harry conceded, decided he’d had enough fun
irritating Fleur for the afternoon, “at least you didn’t do as bad as Longbottom.”

“Oh mate,” Archie exclaimed in amusement, finally feeling it safe to introduce himself in
the conversation now that Harry and Fleur were done with their blatant ‘flirting’, “Merlin
must be looking over him, I have no idea how he escaped from the Gorpack on two
different occasions,” he shook his head before continuing, “actually, I can’t believe he
got caught in the first place, given that he had an invisibility cloak . . .”

“Gorpack are extremely adept at tracking,” Harry explained to his sometimes intellectually
challenged friend, “just because his body wasn’t visible, and his scent masked, didn’t
mean he wasn’t leaving a trail skilled tracker couldn’t follow.”

“I saw ze replay on one of zose Pensieve screens,” Fleur spoke up, “’ad ‘e used a
silencing charm on ‘is feet, and, perhaps, discovered a way to mask ‘is footprints, zey
would not ‘ave been able to find ‘im,” Fleur said, absolutely certain.

“He probably would have snapped a million twigs as he moved,” Harry shrugged
nonchalantly, “I can’t be certain, but until Krum killed one of them off, I’m fairly sure the
Gorpack were just playing with you all.”

“I got the same feeling actually,” Archie agreed, surprising Stephanie and Fleur, “Despite
the fact that Longbottom had legitimately gotten away from them by blowing up shit with
blasting curses and running as fast as his chubby little legs could take him in the
confusion, I very much doubt the Gorpack would normally be so careless as to let him do
that in the first place – were they serious, that is.”

“That and they normally would have skewered him the second they found him,” Harry
deadpanned, “Dumbledore probably had something to do with that, some compulsion
wards around the main part of the forest to make them less aggressive or something . . .”

“Which were overcome when Krum killed one of them,” Stephanie realized, “compulsion
charms can usually be broken when the affected parties are under extreme emotion.”

“Wait, how come it didn’t affect Krum then?” Archie asked curiously, “He looked rather
aggressive, if you ask me. Those traps he made would have killed anything with lesser
tracking experience.”

“One of the other champions, for example?” Harry asked rhetorically, “Compulsion wards
or any spell wards need a more specific target than ‘everyone in the area’,” he explained,
“they usually need a specific instruction if they’re to work, it’s why Curse-breakers need
to be good at Arithmancy if you want to make your own wards. You need to factor what
species or demographic the ward is going to be targeting when creating it. Dumbledore
probably keyed the compulsion wards into the Gorpacks’ auras, I suppose.”

Archie and Stephanie were looking at Harry with blank faces, Fleur, on the other hand,
looked intrigued, “Madame Maxime said somezing similar when I told ‘er I wanted to be a
curse-breaker,” she mused, “Zat I needed to be very well versed in Arithmancy, and zat I
would need to be able to use it to construct my own wards . . .”

“Wait,” Stephanie looked confused, “didn’t you tell me you wanted to be a healer?”

“Eet is a possibility zat I am still considering,” Fleur shrugged, “my skills in charms and
Arithmancy zough, suggest a better career in curse-breaking.”

“By better career,” Archie said slyly, “you mean better money, right?”

“Of course,” Fleur shrugged, “I do not intend to live off my parent’s charity forever. I
want to make my own way in ze world.”

Harry sent an amused glance at Archie upon hearing those words. They seemed oddly familiar

“Harry, Archie, there is a meeting in the Ravenclaw common-room,” Catherine Spencer,

one of the Ravenclaw prefects, informed the two boys, “Professor Flitwick said everyone
needs to go.”

Seeing Harry frown, Catherine quickly spoke up, “Professor Flitwick also said that it
shouldn’t take long, so you don’t need to get annoyed.”

The boys followed their house prefect back to their common room, ignoring the look Fleur
and Stephanie were sending their way – it was a look of knowing, as if they already knew
what this meeting was about.

Once the boys had left the Great Hall, Stephanie turned to Fleur with a curious frown,
“Have you thought about what the parchment has told you yet?”

“No,” Fleur admitted somewhat sheepishly as she pulled out the said piece of parchment
from her pocket. When she had time after the first task, she had taken a glance at its
contents to see that the writing had changed sometime after exiting the forest.

Unrolling the scroll, she glanced at its contents once more, wondering what it could
possibly mean. It was another message, that was for sure, but it most definitely was not
in French or English – or any other known language for that matter. It was obviously a
code, as the words nothing short of ineligible. The problem was, no matter how long she
stared at it, she just couldn’t tell how to crack it.

“Here,” she pried the parchment out of her friend’s hand, “Let me have a look at it.”

Stephanie read the parchment with a frown on her face; she couldn’t make much sense of
it either. It was definitely a code, of that much she was certain, but she couldn’t even
begin to fathom how she could possibly crack it. Glancing over to a sullen Fleur, who was
playing with her breakfast rather than eating, she took one last look at the parchment:

‘Lw qa j pbzovangvba tk lzjww dsfbuvsft’

How in Merlin’s name could she possibly make sense of that? How did they expect Fleur
to? There weren’t even any other clues on the page, just that message, unless you count
the ingredients she gathered from the forest, that is. However, without knowing their
purpose, those ingredients could be used for hundreds of different potion brews in a
number of ways.

It was definitely a shame she didn’t pick Harry as her adviser, this definitely seemed like
something that would definitely be in his field of expertise. Fleur could ask Archie for his
help with the ingredients, but without cracking the code first, he won’t be much help.

“You know,” Stephanie mused, “just because you didn’t pick Harry as your adviser,
doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to help . . .”

“No,” Fleur answered resolutely, “I do not need ‘is ‘elp.”

“Yes you do,” Stephanie argued, “don’t let your pride get in the way of winning this
competition!”

“I do not need ‘is ‘elp!” Fleur hissed again, “Ze Goblet of Fire chose me for a reason, I do
not need ‘is ‘elp to compete in zis tournament.”

Stephanie shrugged nonchalantly, a sly smirk on her face following, “You right, of
course,” she conceded, “I mean, while you’re worrying about looking good in front of
your new boyfriend, he’ll get the answer for Cedric in a week, tops, and have him
prepared months in advance,” she took a sip of her drink, “not all of us can be Triwizard
champions, after all.”

Fleur glared grumpily at her best friend, muttering a few choice French curses under her
breath as she did so.

“Ah, yes, thank-you all for coming so quickly,” Professor Flitwick stood on top of one of
the large tables in the common room as he addressed the fourth years and above, his
Ravenclaws, for the most part, listening intently. Harry and Archie could still barely see
him over the small group of students – he was incredibly short, even while standing on a table.

“What did you want to tell us, sir?” a seventh year asked their head of house, “Not to be
rude, but I was studying for my NEWTs . . .”

“Yes, I apologise for that, this won’t take long,” Flitwick assured the boy, “I imagine that
the letters you received at the beginning of the school year asking you to bring dress
robes have made you quite curious, understandable, of course, but I have called this
meeting to finally tell you why.”

The girls, Harry noticed, had suddenly become much more attentive. He had a bad
feeling about this.

“The Triwizard Tournament brings with it a number of traditions that are to be upheld and
followed,” he informed the group of students, “one of those is the Yule Ball that will be
held on Christmas day.”

The attentive girls had now become extremely excited, if the whispering and giggling was
anything to go by.
“This ball provides us with a great opportunity for us to be sociable with our foreign
guests, one of the main purposes behind holding the Triwizard Tournament is
international cooperation, after all,” he explained, “Now, as you may have guessed by the
fact that I asked the younger students to leave, the ball is only open to fourth years
and above, you may, however, ask a younger student to attend with you as your date,
if you wish . . .”

The giggles only increased in magnitude as many of the girls in the room looked over to
him and Archie. Archie looked excited, something that the girls in the room picked up on –
none of them seemingly knew why though. They probably assumed that they actually
had a chance . . .

“A partner is not mandatory, but strongly advised, and dress robes will be worn, nothing
less will be acceptable,” he informed them, “the ball will start at eight in the evening and
will go on until midnight – however, even though this will be an opportunity for us to
have a good time, the heads of houses have been advised to warn you that you are
expected to be on your best behaviour. I will not have my house be the one to embarrass
the school, leave that to the Slytherins and Gryffindors, please,” any warning coming from
Flitwick was funny in Harry’s opinion. Sure, he respected the man’s skills with a wand,
but he wasn’t exactly the most threatening person in the world. The quip about the
Slytherins and Gryffindors only caused to increase the amusement.

The stern warning seemed to have the desired effect on the other students though; the
girls’ giggling and the boys’ leering had stopped as the tiny professor held their attention.

“That is all for my announcement, for those of you who wish to learn to dance, as the Yule
Ball is exactly that,” he explained to the shocked boys, “Professor McGonagall will be
holding dance classes regularly until the night of the ball, consult her for times.”

As the professor crawled off the table, Archie turned to Harry with a pained expression.

“This is bad,” Archie said weakly, “I had hoped to have the entire year to get closer to
Stephanie . . . this isn’t bad . . . this is a disaster!”

“It could be worse,” Harry shrugged, as he scrunched his face up in thought to think of a
way to finish that sentence, “she could ask you to brew her some contraceptive potions
after turning you down.”

Harry suddenly noticed how the majority of the females in the room were eyeing him
hungrily. Feeling a headache coming on, he fetched his flask from his back pocket and
took a swig before leaving Archie to the mercy of these ‘vultures’.

He had better ways to waste his time, like smashing his head up against a brick wall, for
instance.

Leaving the Ravenclaw common room silently, he failed to notice the contemplative look
on his best friend’s face.

“Harry!” Cedric yelled, catching up to the ebony haired teen in one of Hogwarts’ many
corridors, “you think you can help me with my clue?”

Harry snatched the offending piece of parchment out of Cedric’s hand, eyeing it with a
frown, or rather, eyeing the words on it. It was obviously a code, a rather simple one it seemed.
Shaking his head, he looked back to Cedric, “We just got told about the Yule Ball,” he
frowned, “why aren’t you all over ickle-what’s her face yet?”

“Yule Ball?” Cedric squeaked in shock, “I’m supposed to be heading to the Hufflepuff
common room for a house meeting, you think it’s about a ball?”

“No,” Harry answered, “Professor Sprout is just going to implore you, in a friendly manner
of course, to trim her hedges – you know, down there,” he motioned downwards, “being
the loyal little badgers you all are, you’ll all line up for the opportunity.”

“That’s . . . disgusting,” Cedric deadpanned, “I need to go ask Cho before someone else
does,” he sighed dreamily, “she so gorgeous . . .”

“Didn’t pick you for the type to be into that Asian schoolgirl look,” Harry quipped,
“Whatever tickles your fancy I suppose . . .” he shrugged as he continued to try and
make sense of the code on the parchment.

“Wait,” Cedric stopped his friend incredulously, “you’re actually going to try and figure
that out? I figured I’d have to, I don’t know, get Fleur to give you a lap danceor
something before you’d even consider it . . .”

“Why would you think I’d . . . ” Harry wasn’t able to finish his question though, as Cedric
interrupted him with a raised brow.

“You may be able to fool Archie and Stephanie, but trust me when I say that I know
flirting when I see it,” Cedric deadpanned, “you two are so hot for each other, I’m
surprised you haven’t just jumped her in the middle of the great hall and had your wicked
way with her.”

Harry frowned, “The answer is rather simple,” he spoke as if talking to a toddler, “because
I don’t, like, her, like, that,” he paused after each of the words to emphasise his point.

“But you do like her,” Cedric pointed out triumphantly, “that’s huge, coming from you.”

Not even bothering to dignify that with a response, Harry just walked past Cedric
towards one of Hogwarts’ many empty classrooms. Cedric would no doubt come looking
for him eventually, he’d rather not endure the onslaught of questions that was sure to
arise if he became untraceable for large periods of time because he holed himself up in
the Room of Requitement.

Cho Chang sighed irritably. Ever since the announcement of that stupid ball, she hadn’t
been able to get a good five minutes in of study time in peace. Her OWL examinations
were this year, and if that wasn’t bad enough, it had to coincide with the most hectic and
busiest year she’d ever bared witness to due to the Triwizard Tournament.

At present, the Yule Ball only served to compound her problems.

If it wasn’t the loud chattering going on in the common room that was making studying
unbelievably hard, it was the ridiculous giggles and excited squeals coming from the
majority of the girls around her. Even her friends, who she’d thought were just as
concerned about their OWLs as she was, suddenly put them at the back of their minds
and decided to focus entirely on the bloody tournament and boys rather than their studies.
Maybe what Cedric told her about what Harry thought of the majority of the girls at
Hogwarts wasn’t entirely as harsh as she thought. When Cedric had told her, albeit
reluctantly, that the exact words Harry used to describe the majority of the girls at
Hogwarts were ‘Useless, talentless whores’, she, as a girl who attended Hogwarts
herself, had been rightfully offended.

However, the harsh generalisation of the female species of the school had caused her
to become more aware of the situation, and much to her dismay, Harry wasn’t far off in
his assessment. Especially when you compared the academic performance of the girls in
his year compared to his own – it was embarrassing, to say the least.

At first, she’d chosen to consider the promiscuous nature of her friends and fellow house
mates as them just trying to have some fun, and let loose – I mean, who wouldn’t with all
the studying being in Ravenclaw usually entailed. However, with Harry’s comment
forcefully opening her eyes, she’d actually begun to notice how much the girls around her
actually spent time ‘letting loose’, instead of actual studying.

She fond it embarrassing, especially when boys like Harry decided to bunch the large
majority of girls together before even knowing them. Sure, he may be right ninety
percent of the time, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed being grouped in the ‘slut’
category he had seemingly created to place all but a few girls in.

“Need help?” A voice called out from behind her. Recognizing the voice, she spun around
in surprise to see none other than Archie Montague, one of the most popular boys in the
school and one of Cedric’s best friends, standing over her shoulder.

Before she could answer, he spoke again, “You may want to concentrate on how the
properties of the separate ingredients relate with each other to create the desired effect
rather than the effects of the potion itself,” he advised, shocking the girl into silence.

Everyone knew that Archades Montague got a High Distinction for his Potions OWL, all
High Distinctions received by English students were posted in the Daily Prophet after all,
which is probably why his popularity had increased even more so over the summer break
– not that he wasn’t popular to begin with . . . good looks, extremely smart, funny, kind
and one of the best minds when it came to Potions the school had seen in a long time;
what wasn’t there to like?

You could imagine then, how shocked she was when he had simply waltzed over to her to
give her tips on her Potions assignment.

“I-I’ve tried to focus on that,” she stuttered, embarrassed at having her work assessed
by someone like him so closely. He practically got the highest Potions OWL in the world!
That definitely said something about his knowledge on the subject, “it’s just that, well,
Professor Snape isn’t exactly forthcoming about said information, and I barely have
enough time to research it myself . . . I just tend to stick with my school books.”

Archie made a thoughtful noise as he sat down in he seat beside her, taking her paper
without asking and quickly scanning through it. Cho was a little too surprised by Archie
willingly helping her to even care.

“If I offer to tutor you,” he began hesitantly, “will you promise to do something for me?”

Cho was a little startled by his offer, so much so that she scrunched her face up in
confusion as she scrutinized him, “You’re not going to ask me to the ball, are you?” she
asked him warily, “I thought you had the hots for Stephanie Zabini . . .”

“Oh, Merlin no, that’s not it,” he laughed a little before realizing that probably hadn’t
come out as he had intended it to, “not that I wouldn’t ask you, you’re a very pretty girl
and all that, but Cedric already has his eyes on you, and then there’s Steph, so yeah . . . “

Flattered that he thought her attractive, she turned away so her flushed face wasn’t so
noticeable before calming down and speaking again, “It depends, what is it you need help with

Before he could answer, the Ravenclaw common room door opened and a group of
second year girls came inside, “Cedric Diggory is outside Cho,” the one in the lead called
out to her across the room, “he’s asking for you.”

“I think we both know what that’s about,” Archie grinned at the flustered girl, “I’ll talk to
you later, but do we have a deal?”

“So long as you don’t need anything I can’t give you . . .” she accepted his outstretched
hand, “I don’t see why not.”

“Excellent,” he grinned, “you may want to make Cedric sweat a little before saying yes,
that kid’s head is entirely too big for his own good.”

“What makes you think I’m going to say yes?” the question fell on deaf ears though,
Archie was already rushing up to his room.

A week of working on and off on Cedric’s little code had yielded results. It had only really
taken a few hours of working time, with a bit of trial and error, but he had solved it. It
was surprisingly tricky, and he doubted any of the champions would be able to solve it on
their own, which is probably the reason why it was given – make the advisers actually do
something rather than just cheating for their partners. Not that he was complaining, mind
you, it was rather fun, cracking the code that is, even though it wasn’t as complicated as
he’d hoped.

Now all he needed to do was find Fleur and rub it in her face, she had proven to be quite
elusive lately, much to his disappointment. He could have used her to ward off all the
annoying fan-girls asking him to be their date for the Yule Ball. Nothing like a beautiful
part-Veela to ward off a group of insecure teenage girls, he mused.

Speaking of said girls, ever since Flitwick had announced that stupid ball, he’d had to
turn down at least two to three girls a day, and no matter how rude or cruel he went about
it, they never got the hint. Him saying no only caused them to try harder, a guy with
that mentality would probably be locked up on Azkaban in a manner of months . . .

Wanting to avoid the girls for today, and do something productive with his time, he’d
decided to go for a run around the lake. He’d seen Viktor doing it on a few occasions, and
it had served to remind him that he’d been slightly neglecting his physical fitness ever since
retiring from his illustrious Quidditch career – that just wouldn’t do.

A single lap around the lake was roughly two kilometres, according to Professor Hagrid.
He’d figured that at that distance, and with the pace he was setting, that he’d be able to
do three laps before he’d have to stop.
How wrong he was.

After running the first lap, he’d been huffing and puffing as if he’d gone through a whole
four hours of Quidditch practise. If that wasn’t bad enough, the second lap had almost
made him pass out from exhaustion.

Either he was overestimating his fitness, or underestimating the distance he should be

able to physically run without exhausting himself.

That didn’t matter now though, it was definitely the best physical workout he’d had in a
while. It was definitely something he’d missed doing ever since retiring from Quidditch.

“Potter!” a gruff voice barked. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Moody standing not far
from him, he was heading back to the castle via the forest it seemed, but to do so, he
had to pass the lake, “what are you doing out and about at this time?”

“Nothing much Alastor,” he answered with a tilt of his head, “so long as I’m not breaking
rules, I don’t think I need to answer that question,” not that he needed to, the fact that
the front of his singlet was drenched in sweat and that he was wearing a pair of bicycle
shorts was more than enough of a hint.

“Who gave you permission to call me by that name Potter?” Moody snapped, as Harry
looked at him with a stony expression, “you’d best watch your tongue around me, I didn’t
care for your slacker father, and I don’t much care for you either. Cowards are right
beside Death Eaters in my book,” he finished gruffly, as he stalked back to the castle.

Harry continued to frown in the direction Moody was disappearing into in silence, staring
with a contemplative frown as if he were trying to solve another puzzle whose answer
barely eluded him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of grunting coming from the distance.
Curious, despite himself, Harry followed the sounds until he reached the border of the
Forbidden Forest. It was around four o’clock in the afternoon, and being that it was the
middle of winter that pretty much meant the Sun was well on its way onto disappearing
for the day. Due to this fact, the forest was already fairly dark, but the sound of
grunting was still rather loud and prominent, despite the conditions.

Tracking the sound into the forest, sticking to the shadows less he be spotted, he finally
was able to track the source of the grunting. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who
thought a good workout was in order.

Imagine his surprise when, in the clearing barely thirty feet into the forest, he saw none
other than the ever elusive Fleur Delacour, flowing through what seemed like a standard
fencer’s dance with a rather sharp and thin rapier. She was moving backwards and
forwards in a straight line, while dodging and combating an imaginary opponent; on
occasion, she would parry a strike and follow it up with a quick thrust that would, if she
really was duelling an opponent, killed them for certain.

“Well,” he decided to make his presence known, almost scaring the girl to death, “this is
certainly unexpected.”

Fleur too was surprised to see Harry in the place she had been spending the majority of
her time this last week, even more so because he was clad in such form fitting attire and
dripping in sweat, a sight that she wasn’t ashamed to admit was a rather attractive one.
“’Ave you come to spy on me ‘Arry?” Fleur asked with a grin, “finally realized zat it is
fruitless to try and oppose me in ze tournament?”

“Last time I checked,” Harry said with a thoughtful frown, “it was Cedric that was
opposing you, not me. That doesn’t matter though, because with the answer to the code
already presented to you, you’ll have more than enough time to prepare for the task and
rig the scoring to beat him again, right?”

Seeing the downcast look that briefly flashed across her features, Harry couldn’t resist
grinning superiorly, “Oh, you don’t have it yet?” he asked innocently, “shame.”

“And you do?” she couldn’t help but counter, but the lazy grin he was sending at her was
more than enough of an answer, “wait, do not answer zat,” she sighed, “what did you want?”

“Nothing in particular,” he shrugged, “I’d just finished my run when I heard your little
workout here,” he motioned with his hand around the clearing, “I just came to investigate.”

“Sure,” she sighed, “I am sure eet ‘as nozzing to do wiz ze fact zat you are trying to ‘ide
from ze other females of zis school.”

“Hide is such an ugly word,” he countered, “I prefer ‘taking a leave of absence’,

personally. Are you trying to say that this isn’t you, ‘taking a leave of absence’?”

Fleur let a small smile grace her angelic features at that, “I am perhaps a little annoyed
with ze boys of all ze school asking me to ze ball.”

“Too bad you have to go,” he unhelpfully informed her, “being a champion and all. You
have to open the ball too with a dance, which means you’ll need a date. No point in
delaying the inevitable. I saw young Ronald asking you the other day during breakfast
actually . . .”

Harry almost broke out laughing at the disgusted look that crossed the girl’s face, “’E did
not ask me anything, ze boy merely yelled something at me before running.”

“Yes,” Harry nodded, amused, “I happened to see that – rather amusing, I might add.”

Fleur dusted herself off as the two shared a companionable silence, a rare thing as the
two of them preferred to speak in insult and sexual innuendos.

“I ‘ave a proposition for you,” Fleur suddenly spoke up as she sheathed her blade.

“Oh?” he asked curiously.

“You say zat my swordsmanship is so poor compared to your own,” she smirked in his
direction, “why not try and prove it? A duel, first to draw blood wins.”

“The stakes?” he asked indifferently.

“I will,” she paused, thinking over what she was about to say,” I will give you a lap
dance,” she informed the suddenly amused teen. Fleur sounded fairly confident that such
a thing would never happen.

“Against?”
“I want you to go to ze ball wiz me,” she said, unsurprisingly, in Harry’s opinion, “If I win,
you must go wiz me.”

“Two things,” he said, holding up two fingers instead of answering, “First, it seems like a
win-win situation for you, hardly fair, considering you’ve been wanting to get naked for
me for a long time,” he smirked at her cold expression.

“I merely offered such a thing because I am certain you will not win,” she said rather
stiffly, “do not flatter yourself.”

Ignoring her, he continued, “Second, I won’t be here for the ball anyway, so this duel is
pointless.”

“Zere is no reason why you cannot be,” she said with conviction, which only served to
amuse Harry further, “You can visit your mozzer as usual and be back well before ze ball
begins, I already thought of zis.”

“Is that right?” he kept silent for a moment, “It seems like I’ll have to have a word with
Archades about the importance of keeping a secret . . .”

“Do you accept the terms?” she replied, unsheathing her sword once again and getting in
a ready stance.

Not willing to use Flambert in a meaningless spar, Harry drew his wand and transfigured
a nearby branch into a sword just like it. Fleur was rightfully surprised by the brilliant
display of Transfiguration abilities, turning simple wood into metal, especially into a fine
piece of metal like the sword Harry was currently holding, was no easy feat. She
supposed that’s why he got that High Distinction in his OWLs.

“I think I quite like the idea of you in pantyhose,” Harry thought out loud, causing the
girl’s cheeks to heat up slightly, “black pantyhose, I think will be best.”

Without so much as a word of warning, Fleur lunged at him, her rapier poised to pierce
his shoulder if Harry did nothing to stop it.

Sidestepping gracefully, he casually battered her sword to the side before mirroring her
movement, and moving for a stab of his own to her shoulder.

Fleur was able to dodge under the thrust and go for one other of her own aimed at his
midsection. Harry battered it away again with the flat side of his blade before pushing
her back with a kick to the stomach.

Fleur seemed shocked by the kick, probably because it was not normally proper practise,
especially in France, to use ones legs or arms while sparring with blades. This is why, in
Harry’s opinion, she’ll never be able to beat him. Perfect that ridiculous fencing style all
you want, use it to your heart’s content, it will just make you all the more predictable and
easy to defeat – Lucile had beaten that lesson into him on more than one occasion.

Fleur began to increase the intensity of her attacks, only growing angrier as Harry
continued to casually batter them away or push her away with a kick, or a shoulder
thrust. It was so infuriating. It didn’t even look like he was trying! He wouldn’t even try to
strike her anymore, content with just parrying and sidestep every one of her attacks.
It was then that Fleur realized something.

Harry was playing with her.

He wasn’t even trying.

The thought angered her. Infuriated her, even. He wasn’t even grinning at her like he
usually did when the two of them would verbally spar with one another. He just looked on
with complete boredom as he continued to push her back further and further while
evading every one of her strikes.

He was playing with her, and when he merely tilted his head in her direction, as if asking
‘Is that all?’ she finally snapped.

Foregoing her rigorous swordsmanship training, ignoring anything she had been taught
about her form and precision, completely ignoring the warning her mother and
grandmother had given her, she reared back with her left arm, as if ready to throw a
baseball at him. Imagine Harry’s surprise when her hand was engulfed with red hot flames
just before she was about to release her throw, flames that went bursting in his direction
with a yell of effort on Fleur’s part – who followed up the fireball with another thrust of
her rapier.

The fireball connected, causing a small explosion of flames and momentarily blinding her.
She could have sworn her thrust had struck true though!

When the smoke finally cleared and her vision returned to normal, she was shocked to
see Harry looking at her with an amused and, dare she say it, proud expression. Her
thrust, however, was being held an inch away from the side of his face by his own blade
while his skin remained unblemished.

Just when Fleur was about to let out a disappointed sigh, Harry’s right cheek split open
ever so slightly, allowing a small trickle of blood to seep out of a paper thin wound, much
to Fleur’s delight.

Harry frowned in annoyance; he had a sudden feeling of wetness on his cheek. Bringing up
his fingers, he swiped at it and brought it to his eyes, indeed, there was blood coming out
of his cheek, a small amount, but blood nonetheless.

Locking eyes with Fleur again, who was looking infinitely pleased with herself, Harry burst
into motion. Lunging at her, she expected him to hit her in the face with the butt of his
hand guard; however, he feinted at the last moment and swivelled around to deliver a
leg sweep that removed her legs from beneath her.

As she fell to the ground, hard, she opened her eyes to look where Harry was once
standing, only to come face to face with the tip of his blade being held right in between
her eyes.

“Your ‘form’ makes you easy to predict, and thus, your swordsmanship will always be
considered a joke if you rely on it,” he started speaking to the startled Fleur. He showed
no emotion as he did so, merely holding the blade so it remained inches from her face and
pointed right between he eyes, “if you want to stop being a joke, don’t stick to a form,
fight in the way that’s most comfortable to you. The closest you ever came to doing me
harm in that entire ‘duel’ was when you launched that fire at me, something that caught
me off guard. Learn to use it at will and incorporate it into your style, then, and only then,
will I consider not thinking of you as a poor swordsman.”

“I can use it at will,” she informed him in a voice that sounded much more confidant than
she felt right now, “I just don’t. Veela who can control zeir flame attacks are generally
feared, especially considering ze fact zat ze power of said attacks increases as zey get angry.”

Harry looked mildly surprised by that, he didn’t remove his blade however “do you have
an avian form too?”

Fleur shook her head in the negative, careful not to cut her self on the blade as she did
so, “Only my grandmozzer, a pure-blooded Veela, can do zat.”

Harry held the sword in place for several moments before throwing it aside and allowing it
to return to the shape of a regular branch.

“What colour?” he suddenly asked out of the blue, his face still a mask of indifference.

The confusion on Fleur’s face must have been apparent as he elaborated immediately
after speaking, “Your dress,” he elaborated, as if talking to an idiotic child, “what, colour, is, it?”

“Off-white . . . uh, cream . . .” she answered, suddenly sounding not so sure of herself.

“I know what off-white is,” he rolled his eyes as he helped her up, “you won the duel,
regardless of how poor your swordsmanship was, a deal is a deal,” he shrugged, “I
definitely would have preferred that lap dance though,” he trailed off with a disappointed
sigh as he left her alone in the clearing.

“What the fuck just happened?” she asked no one in particular after Harry was out of
hearing range.

As Harry was walking back to the castle, he had much more important things on his mind
than some stupid Ball. Like, for instance, how ‘Mad-eye’ Moody had never expressed a
dislike for being referred to by his first name, ever. He had been calling the man ‘Alastor’
for as long as he’d known him, and not once had he ever attempted to correct him.

Then there was the comment about his father. That didn’t particularly sound like
something the man would say, especially considering the fact that the man would often
compare Nymphadora’s performance to James Potter’s, and use him as the standard at
which she should be performing at should she wish to be a successful Auror.

Something didn’t add up.

Archie had never truly tutored someone in Potions before. Sure, he’d done the mandatory
tutoring that was compulsory of all Ravenclaws so he could take his OWLs, but he never
really took it seriously. He simply answered his old students’ questions by referring them
to the texts that had the answers they sought, rather than answering them himself.

Tutoring Cho Chang was a different experience all together, especially when - admitting
that he was completely useless at the subject - Cedric had asked if he could tag along.
The Hufflepuff promised to not bother him too much and simply try to glean anything he
could form what Archie was saying. Tutoring them was a lot more complicated than
referring them to texts, he’d found. Cho would ask him questions, or refer him to some of
her assignment tasks, and then Archie would proceed to break them down, answering
each individual query meticulously, making sure that both Cho, and especially Cedric,
understood what he was talking about.

The main problem with their Potions skills was their lack of knowledge with how the
different ingredients were supposed to react with each other, or rather, the individual
properties of each ingredients. Students who did just good enough to pass their OWLs
would be content with knowing as many Potions recipes by heart, and it would probably be
sufficient if you just wanted to pass and get a grade. To be able to truly master Potions
though, Archie had explained, one needed to understand why each ingredient was used,
what its purpose is in each recipe, how it will specifically affect the brew, and how it
reacts to other ingredients.

It sounded simple when he said it, but when one considered that there were literally
thousands of individual ingredients, any many more unknown or yet to be used ones, it
was understandable then that the respect the two had for Archie grew by leaps and bounds.

“Archie,” Cho paused in their studies after they had finished going through that last
question, “A week has passed since you’ve started tutoring Cedric and me, and you’ve
yet to ask me that favour you wanted . . .”

“Favour?” Cedric looked to Archie with a curious frown. He wasn’t thinking that Archie was
up to anything nefarious, his infatuation with Stephanie was more than enough reason to
dissuade anyone to the contrary, this was just the first time he’d heard of Archie having
made a deal to tutor Cho. It did make sense though; Archie didn’t just go around and
offer his services to anyone who asked, no matter who they were (except maybe for
Harry), otherwise he’d be a much busier man, especially considering his OWL grades in
the subject weren’t exactly a secret.

“Right,” he said uncomfortably, “about that, I guess I’ve been procrastinating, huh?” he
asked rhetorically with a nervous chuckle, “what I wanted was,” he paused, stumbling
through his words, “I mean, what I needed you help with was . . . er,” he looked to Cedric,
a little embarrassed about bringing it up in front of his friend, but his desire to get what
he wanted eventually won out, “I need your help.”

“My help?” she asked incredulously, “you’re one of the most popular guys in the school,
only a few spots behind Harry when it comes to grades and can practically get whatever
you want with a snap of your fingers – what on earth do you need my help for?”

Cedric grinned widely, finally understanding what this was all about, “There’s one thing he
can’t get with the snap of his fingers,” he explained to his Yule Ball date, and hopefully,
soon-to-be girlfriend, “Stephanie Zabini.”

Seeing Archie look away in embarrassment, Cho’s mouth dropped open in surprise, “How
am I supposed to help you with that?”

Archie coughed into his hand, not wanting this conversation to be overheard by the local
gossip whores who were ready to spread the word at the drop of a Knut, “It has been
brought to my attention that you are a girl,” he started somewhat nervously.

Cedric grinned playfully, “Notice that too, did you?” he let out a surprised ‘oomph’ when
Cho elbowed him in the gut and motioned for Archie to continue.

“Well, being a girl and all,” he continued, “I was wondering if you’d help me with getting
her to notice me as more than a friend . . .”
“Why are you so embarrassed about this issue?” Cho asked gently, a frown marring her
features, “no offence, but you were more than ready to announce your love for her to
the world back when she was still at Hogwarts, what’s changed?”

Suddenly, a silky voice interrupted their conversation, no one had even heard his
approach, “Back then, he didn’t really think he had any competition when it came to
Stephanie’s affections,” Harry said with a bemused expression, “now that he knows that
she can be interested in other guys, and has already had a boyfriend to boot, he’s nervous.”

“Merlin!” Archie gasped in surprise, “you fucking stalker! Who the hell goes around butting
into people’s conversations in a library!” he hissed at Harry in a loud whisper, not willing to
incur Madam Pince’s wrath by speaking too loudly.

“A stalker,” Harry informed his friend dryly, as he takes the empty seat beside him,
“continue, this is going to be rather good,” he leaned back in the rather uncomfortable
wooden chair, “would it kill them to add some upholstery in these things?” he grumpily
wriggled in his seat until he was comfortable, “okay, continue.”

“Why in Merlin’s name do you look like you just ran a marathon?” Cho asked the first thing
that popped into her mind at seeing the boy dressed in his running clothes with a hoody
covering his torso.

“Because I did?” he countered sarcastically, “this is about Archades though, pretend like
I’m not even here.”

“Kind of hard when we’re now attracting the attention of every other female in the
room,” Archie dryly pointed out, as many of the girls had started whispering and pointing
at their table excitedly.

“Anyway,” Cho coughed into her hand to get their attention, “tell me what you know about her.”

“That’s a rather broad question,” Archie said with a playful grin, “you want to be a bit
more specific?”

“What does she like?” she asked crossly, as Archie raised his hands in surrender at seeing
her temper.

“Not much,” Archie admitted, “she loves her family, her friends and, as of recently,
Beauxbatons . . .” he trailed off as he thought on the question a bit, “she likes duelling,
or rather, watching the duelling championships. She loves strawberries, I kid you not,
she’d eat a whole plantation if you didn’t stop her . . . she likes the Dragon Hearts . . .”

“Wait,” Cho interrupted him, “she likes the Dragon Hearts?” she asked, looking rather
surprised. The Dragon Hearts were a well-known magical music group that mainly
specialized in cheesy love songs.

“Oh yeah,” Archie chuckled, “when I told her once that Harry had met them at one of his
games, she sent me a howler for not getting her an autograph . . .”

“Is that what that was?” Harry said with amusement, “I figured that you’d just locked
yourself in the bathroom to wank over Stephanie’s scent on the letter . . .”

“Harry!” Cedric hissed, looking to the only girl in their group currently who was looking
rather flustered, “there’s a girl present mate, mind your manners.”

“Right, sorry,” he leaned forward conspiratorially towards Cho and said in an

exasperated whisper, “wanking is another term for pleasuring one’s self, some like to call
it ‘masturbation’ . . .”

“Potter!” Cedric snapped at him again, as Cho’s face started to resemble a tomato.

“Diggory!” Madam Pince yelled from her counter, “Keep your voice down!”

“Sorry ma’am,” he apologised sincerely, ignoring the grinning Archie and Harry.

“Right,” Cho spoke up, after clearing her throat, “are you good at anything in
particular?” Cho asked, before realizing how crass that must have sounded, “what I mean
is, something other than Potions, something you can show Stephanie and impress her with
that she doesn’t already know about.”

Archie looked stumped, “There’s not much about me that she doesn’t know,” Archie said
in a deadpan, “we’ve known each other for as long as I can remember . . .”

“He can sing,” Cedric pointed out with an excited whisper. Suddenly, a thump alerted
their attention to Harry knocking his head against the hardwood table.

“You are not about to suggest what I think you’re about to suggest,” he said in a pained
voice without raising his head, “because if you are, I’m out of here.”

“It’s a brilliant idea,” Cho countered defensively, “And it’s incredibly romantic too, if he can
really sing.”

“Oh, Archie’s got a great voice,” Cedric grinned widely, “Me and Harry heard him singing
a couple of times while brewing some Potions, awesome voice.”

“Harry and I,” Cho corrected with a frown, “is that true Harry? Or is Cedric being mean?”

“I refuse to comment,” his muffled voice of protest countered.

Archie, meanwhile, was rather stumped.

“What has this got to do with anything?” he said, frowning, “Unless you want me to . .
.oh no, no, no, no, no, NO!”

Cho and Cedric didn’t share his sentiments though, they were grinning rather broadly,
“Yes, yes, yes Archie,” Cho said in a sing-song voice, “you want to proclaim your love for
her in the most romantic way possible, you’re going to do it by serenading her.”

“This is going to fail miserably, and then I’ll be the one stuck with a moping Archie for the
rest of my life,” Harry said in an annoyed tone, his face finally out from hiding in his arms.

“Care to make a wager on that?” Cho countered, “ten galleons says that not only will she
be his date to the Yule Ball, but she’ll kiss him too.”

Archie definitely perked up at that, Harry on the other hand, looked at her with a frown,
“You’re that eager to lose ten galleons?” he said confidently, “there is no logical way that
this will work, and I don’t need ten galleons. So, when I win, I’m going to use the money
to buy a dragon hide whip, then I’ll charm it so whenever you hold it, you’ll be compelled to
use it on Cedric.”

“Kinky,” Archie offered with a grin at hearing that.

“Do you realize how corny and crappy magical music is?” Harry asked her, “Stephanie only
likes it because she doesn’t know better.”

“But I do,” Cho said confidently, “I’m a half-blood and not ignorant to the muggle world, I
prefer muggle music too.”

“And how do you intend on getting the music he’ll need when he sings?” Harry countered
once again, ignoring Archie’s feeble protests of ‘who said I was agreeing to this’.

“I’m sure we can find something or someone to play some music,” seeing Archie look to
him hopefully, Harry shot him down with a harsh glare that immediately killed the idea
forming in the boy’s head.

Harry tilted his head to the side and leaned in closer, looking directly into Cho’s eyes. The
girl, a little embarrassed by being so closely scrutinized by him held out her arm
confidently, “Do we have an accord then, Mister Potter?”

“Your loss,” he shrugged, accepting her outstretched hand.

As they shook hands, Archie wondered to himself what in Merlin’s name he’d gotten himself int

Harry was making his way to his Ancient Runes class, trying to be as inconspicuous as
possible to avoid as many people as possible. He hadn’t told anyone yet that he was
actually going to the ball with Fleur. His friends all assumed he wouldn’t be making an
appearance, as usual, while everyone else was either thankful, or still trying to get him to
go with them. He had no intentions of dropping names either, despite how amusing it may
be to divert everyone’s attention away from himself and onto Fleur.

As he turned the corner, he let out an extremely loud groan of annoyance as he

practically came face to face with none other than Rhona Simmonds.

“Hey Harry,” she called his name excitedly as she approached him quickly, “I was
wondering, if you don’t have a date to the Yule Ball, would you want to go with me?”

“You’ve dropped Roger already, have you?” he asked as Rhona tried to keep up with his
brisk pace.

“Roger was nice and all,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “but we were both just looking for a
good time, nothing serious.”

“That’s nice,” he said, sounding anything but interested in what she had to say, “but I’m
not interested, ask someone else.”

“Come on Harry,” she practically whined at him, it was utterly pathetic, “I promise you’ll
have a good time, and who knows?” she grinned in a sultry manner, “play your cards
right, and I just may make a man out of you as well.”

“I doubt I have to play my cards with any strategy what so ever,” he said dryly, “as long
as I’m in the hand, I’m fairly certain you’ll come through on your promise,” she didn’t
understand the poker analogy, it seemed, “The answer is ‘no’, go away,” he pushed past
her, ignoring the shocked girl’s gaping features.

“It’s that French girl isn’t it?!” she asked angrily, running in front of him and blocking him
off once again, “that slut got her claws into you, and you’re blinded by her Veela charms.”

“Fleur’s a slut?” he asked curiously, by now they were drawing quite the crowd, “and
that’s supposed to be an insult coming from you?”

“You know you don’t mean that Harry,” she tried to get in his personal space, something
Harry strongly disagreed with if his stepping away form her was anything to go by, “she’s
obviously gotten to you, Veela can do that, you know,” she tried to sound sympathetic,
but Harry really couldn’t quell the feeling of disgust he felt for this girl.

“And you would know,” Harry nodded in fake understanding, “seeing as we’re such close
friends, you thought it your business to save me from my terrible fate.”

“Exactly!” she seemed ecstatic that he finally understood where she was coming from.
The crowd that discreetly formed around the pair, who tried and failed to look like they
weren’t listening, were preparing themselves for what they were certain would be quite
the show – they just didn’t know what kind to expect, “that slut,” she spat the word out as
if it were a particular bad tasting food, much to Harry’s amusement, “may have clawed
her way into your life, but don’t worry,” she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder,
“I’ll make sure she never gets near you again.”

Harry grabbed her wrist with his index finger and thumb before removing the offending
appendage from his person, “You keep calling Fleur a slut,” Harry observed, “I find it
rather amusing, especially coming from Hogwarts’ resident whore . . .”

“Harry, mate,” Roger spoke up from the crowd, making his presence known, “you know
you don’t mean that, you should apologise.”

“You’re right, of course,” he nodding in Roger’s direction, much to Rhona’s relief, “whores
get paid for shagging as many men as possible, you do it for free, so what does that make you

Rhona reacted to the words just as he wanted her to, like a slap to the face, “Don’t
answer that question, I don’t want to get into a philosophical debate with a slag, so tell
me, slag, if you’re not a slag, how many guys you’ve slept with in the last two years.”

Her mouth was opening and closing soundlessly as she tried to form words.

He didn’t let her answer, “Can’t count that high?” he asked with faux sympathy, “I’ll make
it easier, how many in the past year only?” the crowd around them were silent, nobody
dared to speak, “still too hard?”

“I . . .” he didn’t let her get a word in though. He’d been seeing these girls whoring
themselves out for far too long and think it was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe
if he made one cry, they’d change their ways?

Who was he kidding? He just wanted to make her cry.

“Harry . . .” Roger said, in what he must have thought was a warning tone.
“You’re right,” he said with a sad sigh, “I shouldn’t be asking her such difficult to answer
questions, I have one that should be much simpler – how many guys have you not slept
with in the past two years?” he pointed to her hand, “I know your only real practise with
numbers is with measuring the size of your next shag’s cock, and I assure you, this one
shouldn’t exceed anything you’ve ever had to count to before, given your experience. In
fact, I’m sure the four fingers on your hand will be more than sufficient.”

Rhona’s eyes began to water - he was getting close.

“You go around, shagging every guy that’s willing to stick it in you, and then you have
the nerve to go around and calling girls like Fleur sluts because they don’t?” He shook his
head in disgust, “how does that even make sense?”

Once again, his questions seemed to be rhetorical because he just continued with his
verbal beat down regardless of what she had to say.

“Is this how you saw yourself acting when you were a child?” he asked, tilting his head
curiously as he posed that question, “when you were younger, and an adult would ask
you ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ did you tell them that you wanted to
be Hogwarts’ number one slag?”

Almost there . . .

“What about after you graduate?” he asked just as curiously, “if you graduate – Snape
has to grow bored of getting your blowjobs for passing marks in Potions eventually, maybe
he’ll consider it if you entertain his friends?”

Rhona looked like she’d just been hit with a full body bind. Her skin had paled as she was
receiving this verbal assault from the most popular guy in the school, nay the country, at
the moment. Her mouth also seemed to not be working, as she tried to form words, but
nothing came out. Basically, she was too shocked to even think of a rebuttal.

“If you do take him up on his offer, and somehow, by some act of God, actually
graduate, what then?” he asked curiously, “you’ll find your abilities at sucking cock aren’t
as valued out there in the real world as they are in here, with an entire school of
hormonal teenagers to prey off of. Why would they care about a slag like you when they
can pay a high class hooker, who is most likely much better at her job, for the same thing?
Oh, is that going to be your pitch?” he asked, a fake understanding dawning on his
features, “Minister Fudge, don’t pay that dirty whore to please you, I’ll do it for free!”

That seemed to do it.

Rhona let out a few soft and quiet sobs before finally breaking down and collapsing on
her knees, crying uncontrollably.

“You’ve gone too far Potter,” Roger warned with an angry tone, as he drew his wand on him.

“I’m sure that’s against the rules, isn’t it Professor Snape?” he motioned to the boy who’d
drawn his wand. Like lightning, he’d sheathed it in his pocket once again to avoid any
trouble cursing people would get him into with the normally vicious Head of Slytherin
house. To his surprise though, when he turned to look for the greasy Potions master, he
was nowhere to be seen.

“Gabrielle, do your thing!” he called to the little girl, who was standing not so far and
observing the crying girl curiously. When she turned her big, innocent and clueless eyes
onto Harry, he merely motioned to the surprised Ravenclaw Quidditch captain and
motioned to his nether regions.

Understanding immediately, and a little angry that the boy had wanted to harm her,
now, venerable hero, she approached him inconspicuously, like only a cute little
nine-year-old girl could, before grabbing his attention with her Veela charm.

“You really weren’t going to curse Harry, were you?” she asked with that cute little
devilish frown Harry adored. Unfortunately, Roger couldn’t understand what she was
saying, so he foolishly nodded his head in acceptance to whatever she was saying.

Quicker than lightning, little Gabby planting the toe of her shoe into Roger’s testes, just
like they’d practised.

Was this how a parent felt when their kid walked for the first time, or said their first
words? She was just so damn cute, kicking people in the balls the way she does, with so
much enthusiasm. He was so proud.

Harry let out a content sigh as he looked at the crying Rhona and the whimpering and
sickly looking Roger one last time – today was a good day.

“Good work Gabrielle,” he praised the beaming girl who was at his side in an instant,
clutching onto his waist affectionately, “you know, you’re my favourite little
nine-year-old, part-Veela, who is related to a hot sister, in the world, right?”

Pleased by the praise, Gabrielle clutched onto him tighter as Harry made his way to class,
both missing eyes of said hot older sister watching on with no hidden amount of amusement.

News of what Harry had done to Rhona spread like wildfire, and to the boy’s pleasant
surprise, it seemed to stop any other daring females form asking him to the ball, less they
receive the same treatment. Had he known that was all he needed to do to get them off
his back, he would have made them cry much earlier.

Many were angry with him about it though, especially Flitwick and the majority of the
guys at Hogwarts – well, the ones who’d shagged Rhona that is.

Flitwick had told him crossly during their meeting after his verbal attack on Rhona that this
was his last warning. Any other reports of him running his mouth off to anyone,
especially Madame Maxime or High Master Karkaroff, would result in a large number of
House Points being removed along with several detentions.

It was pretty funny, to Harry anyway, how the little man thought such a threat would
dissuade him from doing anything. He couldn’t care less about some retarded House Cup
that everyone else seemed to hold in such high esteem, and he just wouldn’t go to any
detentions he was given. What were they going to do? Expel him?

Even if they did, he’d just have to take his NEWTs without the school’s help . . . not that
he much needed their help. The private Arithmancy lessons with Septima would probably
be missed, especially since the woman was the only professor really teaching him
anything at the school. Septima Vector was a genius in her field of expertise, and the
only person alive he’d given permission to see the entirety of his spell-crafting notebook.
More specifically, his work on the Amaterasu spell he’d been developing for years.
Needless to say, she was astounded with his progress and would often help him by
allowing him to bounce ideas off of her as he worked on it. She called it an honour, being
able to help with the creation of something that would be remembered through the ages,
but Harry thought otherwise. She’d earned the right, in his opinion to be a part of its
creation. She was the only professor in Hogwarts who was teaching him something, and
teaching it well, surely she had a right to bare witness to his private projects if he was
the one that was helping him with them.

Of course, he’d sworn her to secrecy before showing her, but that was for her own good
as well as his – and she understood that.

Harry’s thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when he aw Cedric and Cho up ahead,
standing next to what looked like an old-school record player, the kind that had those
huge bronze coloured horns attached to them. It was basically the Wizard’s answer to a
portable music-playing device that ran completely on magic.

Why they didn’t just recreate CD or MP3 players like the world outside of Europe, he’d
never know.

“Planning on having a Karaoke night tonight then?” Harry asked as he approached the
two teenagers who were looking at something below them in one of the courtyards
within Hogwarts.

Cedric spun around and relaxed when he saw it was only Harry, “Nah mate, this is what
we were talking about in the Library the other day . . .”

“You’re actually going through with that?” he asked incredulously, the other two didn’t
seem fazed though.

“Of course we are,” Cho shook her head in amusement, “don’t try skipping out on our bet
either Potter, I’ll be expecting those ten galleons soon.”

“You actually think this is going to work?” Harry asked in amusement, “What fantasy
world are you two living in? This isn’t some cheesy romance novel where this shit always
happens, and works, for the protagonist of the story. The boy is actually in love with the
girl, and you’re going to make him look like an idiot in front of her and . . .” he looked over
the ledge himself to see that the courtyard was rather crowded. Stephanie and Fleur were
sitting beside each other on one of the benches towards the middle of the seating area,
“what looks like the rest of the school. Guess who has to put up with his moping then?” he
shot at the two.

“I didn’t know you read romance novels Potter,” Cho shot back with a grin which then
turned into a frown when she saw he wasn’t amused, “Archie putting himself on the line
like this and letting her know of his feelings for her, irrefutably, is the bravest and most
romantic thing he could do. There’s nothing like music to convey one’s feelings to
another,” she said, sure of herself, “have you seen a musical before?” at his nod, she
continued, “then you know that the feelings of the characters in a musical are much
better portrayed than they are when one says them normally.”

“She knows his feelings for her,” he reminded her, “she’s just too stupid to accept them –
this won’t work.”

“Well, there they are,” Cho said with a tone of finality, “it’s now or never I guess, Archie’s
already in position, though I don’t know what we’re going to do about Jacques, he’s been
bugging Stephanie ever since the announcement of the Yule Ball.”

Harry frowned and looked over the ledge one more time, indeed, Jacques was standing
not too far from Stephanie with some of his friends, eyeing her with lust and clearly
making the girl in question uncomfortable. It seemed that he hadn’t learned his lesson
after getting an Archades fist-sandwich to the face.

“I’ll deal with him, if only I can see this little plan of yours fail spectacularly,” he informed
them before walking off briskly to supposedly take care of the problem that was the
ex-boyfriend.

“Alright,” Cho said with excitement clear in her voice, “let’s get this show on the road.”

With that, she pressed a button on the device next to them, which filled the courtyard
and the corridors surrounding it with music.

Stephanie was not in a particularly good mood.

First, ever since Madame Maxime had told them about the Yule Ball, her ex-boyfriend had
taken it upon himself to pretty much harass her about going with him, non-stop, without
taking no for an answer. She wasn’t going with anyone else, as of yet, so according to
him, there was no reason why she should say no, over and over again.

Then there was Archie. She hadn’t realized how much she’d grown to rely on his presence
as of late, especially in regards to venting her problems at him. Fleur was always there if
she needed her, but Archie always provided her with a different perspective, and even
though Fleur and her were very close friends, no one knew her like Archie did. Now, over
the last few days, he’d practically disappeared off the face of the earth to Merlin knows where.

Then there was her schoolwork. Fleur may be exempt from her exams, but she definitely
wasn’t. The two had both discussed taking the entrance examination to become
apprentices at Saint Marie’s Hospital, France’s number one medical institute, however, to
do so, she had to score in the top five percent in the entire school to be allowed the
opportunity.

Needless to say, the pressure was mounting, and with Archie not around to lend his
support, it was no surprise that she was rather stressed as of late.

“You don’t need to worry Stephanie,” Fleur assured her friend as they took a seat in one
of Hogwarts’ many courtyards. Jacques was hanging around close by with his friends and
eyeing Stephanie in a way that was making her understandably uncomfortable.

“Why won’t he just go away?” Stephanie asked with her head in her hands as she let out a
frustrated groan.

“If only Harry and Gabrielle were around,” Fleur joked, hoping to lighten Stephanie’s
mood, “he’s trained her to be his little attack dog, it’s rather amusing.”

“Is that right?” Stephanie asked with a chuckle, “How so?”

“You know that boy Roger Davies who keeps asking me to the Yule Ball?” Fleur began to
explain, a little too eagerly.
“The one who had to go to Madam Pomfrey to get one of his testes removed from his
stomach?” she asked with a weak grin.

“Gabrielle was the one who kicked him there in the first place,” Fleur informed Stephanie a
little too smugly, “He pulled a wand on Harry, and on his demand, Gabrielle used her
Veela charm to stop him before kicking him in the balls.”

“Fleur!” Stephanie reprimanded her friend, though the smile that lit up her face was worth
it in the blonde girl’s opinion.

Suddenly, everyone in the courtyard was surprised to hear a piano playing from,
seemingly, all directions. Looking around wildly, Stephanie turned a wary eye on her friend.

“Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling that this has to do with me?” Stephanie asked
Fleur, who was grinning at her with a mischievous look in her eyes, “Fleur, do you know
what’s going on?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she informed the girl a little too innocently.

Stephanie eyed her shrewdly before realizing that, for the first time since arriving at
Hogwarts, they had decided to spend their break in one of the highly populated
courtyards, “Why exactly are we sitting in this particular courtyard Fleur?” she asked her
friend warily, “It’s fairly out of the way of everything, especially considering where our
next class is . . .”

Fleur shrugged before turning her attention to the courtyard’s newest occupant.
Stephanie followed her gaze and, to her shock, Archie stood there looking directly at her
holding a magiphone, the magical world’s answer to a microphone. The thing worked like
a portable Sonorous charm that could have its volume adjusted – it was a clever bit of magic.

The music increased in volume as the song was about to begin, and to Stephanie’s shock,
Archie put the magiphone next to his lips and began singing.

Look into my eyes, he sang, you will see . . . what you mean to me. Search your heart,
search your soul . . . and when you find me there you’ll search no more.

Stephanie, finally understanding that Archie was not only singing to her, but also singing a
love song to her in the middle of a crowded courtyard, became understandably flustered.
Fleur tried to get her attention by nudging her in the side, but Stephanie slapped her
hands away like she would a fly, not interested in what her friend had to say as she gave
her undivided attention to the boy who was giving it his all to get a message along.

Don’t tell me, it’s not worth trying for, he continued to sing, you can’t tell me, it’s not
worth dying for . . . You know it’s true, everything I do . . . I do it for you.

Fleur, who was trying to inform Stephanie that Jacques was making his way over to
Archie, his wand drawn and a pissed-off expression on his face, calmed down when she
saw a familiar blonde terror approach him innocently and land a perfect toe-bash into his
testes, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

“That’s a good girl Gabby,” Fleur only barely heard Harry say over the music, singing and
general consternation, “Who’s my favourite little warrior princess?”
“I am!” she cheered happily, beaming proudly at her idol who was all too happy to praise
his own personal little attack Veela.

Look into your heart, you will find, there’s nothing left to hide, Archie soldiered on bravely
with a surprisingly good voice; surprising to Stephanie anyway, who had no idea that
Archie was a good singer, Take me as I am, take my life, I would give it all, I would sacrifice.

Fleur may have been made privy to this plan beforehand by Cedric and his little girlfriend,
but she hadn’t expected Archie to have such a great voice, or for Archie to sing with so
much emotion. It was a rather emotional scene, and, she thought with a hidden smile, by
the look on Stephanie’s face, it looked to be working . . .

Don’t tell me, it’s not worth fighting for, he started to approach her slowly, never
breaking eye contact once, I can’t help it, there’s nothing I want more. You know it’s
true, everything I do, I do it for you.

Archie was barely standing ten feet from her now as he stopped and took a deep breath
before continuing, There’s no love, like your love . . . and no other could give more love .
. . there’s nowhere, unless you’re there, all the time . . . all the way.

Stephanie felt a shiver run down her spine as Archie held that last note and sung it
powerfully. Seeing Fleur’s confused look, she turned to her with a smile and answered
her unasked question, “Goosebumps . . .” she simply answered with a smile.

Oh, you can’t tell me it’s not with trying for . . . I can’t help it, there’s nothing I want
more, Archie continued to walk closer to her until he was barely a meter away, I’d fight
for you, I’d lie for you, walk the wire for you, yeah I’d die for you . . . you know it’s true,
he got in real close to the now beet red Stephanie and brushed a strand of her out of her
eyes affectionately, Everything I do, I do it for . . . you.

Archie didn’t even get a chance to comprehend what was going on until he was hit by
something with the force of a canon ball. After the cobwebs were cleared from his head
from the fall, he realized he was on his back, on the floor, looking up into the teary eyes
of Stephanie.

“That was beautiful,” she told him softly with watery eyes, “you really feel that way
about me? Even after I’ve been such a total bitch to you?”

Feeling tears coming to his own eyes, Archie answered her, “Stephanie . . . you know how
I feel,” he told her somewhat embarrassingly, “that hasn’t changed, not even for a second
. . . why are you crying?”

She let out a sound that was a mixture between an amused sob and a strained laugh, “I’m
laughing because I’m happy you twat,” she said affectionately, “why are you crying?”
she countered, seeing the tears in the boy’s eyes.

“Your knee,” he answered with a high amount of difficulty, “it’s digging into my protective
testes plate,” he answered with a strained chuckle “it fucking hurts.”

Looking down with confusion, Stephanie leapt back in shock when she realized that she
had, as she leapt at him, accidently kneed him in the balls . . . just like old times. To her
surprise, Archie stuck his hand down his pants and pulled out a flat iron metal plate,
“Probably not my best idea,” he answered with a nervous chuckle, “I wasn’t sure if you’d
get angry or not by doing this . . . it definitely didn’t help much . . .”
Before he could continue rambling, Stephanie locked her arms around his neck and pulled
him into a passionate kiss.

For Archie, the world seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace. He didn’t care what was
going on around him; he didn’t care about anything other than the girl that was kissing him
right now. He could say, with absolute certainty, that he could die a happy man right
now, and be dead serious about it.

Catcalls, wolf whistles and cheers broke out from those watching who were either Archie’s
friend, or just neutral towards the pair and had enjoyed the show. Those who had a
vested interest in the pair and were not pleased by the sight were glaring darkly at the
two. Unfortunately for Jacques, he couldn’t do either as he was incapacitated by Harry’s
little attack dog.

When Stephanie pulled away from Archie, slightly surprised by her forwardness yet not
regretting her decision at all, she almost giggled at the spaced out Archie who still had his
lips in a kissing motion.

“Does that mean you’ll go to the Yule Ball with me?” he asked hopefully, causing Stephanie
to roll her eyes in annoyance.

“Yes, it does,” she answered, enjoying how it made Archie’s eyes light up wondrously.

“Does that mean . . .” he paused, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer to his next
question or not, “that you’ll be my girlfriend now?”

“Yeah,” she answered fondly, “I’m your girlfriend now . . .”

Out of all the responses to her statement, especially after having just sung to her his
feelings in a most passionate and romantic way, you couldn’t really blame Stephanie for
being surprised by Archie’s actions.

“WOO!” Archie leapt into the air and cheered, scaring the shit out of his new girlfriend,
“You hear that suckers! I’ve got a girlfriend, STEPHANIE ZABINI IS MY GIRLFRIENDWOO!”

She watched, unable to contain her mirth as Archie began to perform the most ridiculous
happy dance she’d ever seen. He was waving his arms about above his head and shaking
his hips in ecstasy, making weird cheering noises while doing so.

“You hear that Jack?” Archie asked the downed French boy who was still cradling his
damaged twig and giggle berries, “Stay away from my girlfriend!” he emphasised his point
by kicking the already downed boy in the ribs. Suddenly, as if struck by lightening, Archie
came to another realization, “Sweet Merlin!” he touched his lips, “Stephanie kissed me!
YOU HEAR THAT BITCHES? STEPHANIE KISSED ME!”

The overwhelmed girl in question was so shocked by his behaviour, she didn’t even put up
a fight when Archie picked her up off the floor and planted another kiss on her lips, not
that she’d want to, for some reason, getting kissed by Archie was incredibly liberating, as
if a huge weighed she’d never known existed had been lifted off her shoulders “I can do
that now,” he hollered to the crowd, after letting go of the shocked girl, “because she’s my
girlfriend! WOOOO!”

Many students who had stuck around for the show continued to watch in amusement as
Archie jumped and danced around, Stephanie on his arm, with the largest smile on his
face that anyone had ever seen.

Fleur found it highly amusing that the majority of the girls in the area were watching the
scene with jealousy – and for good reason too, as she too watched the happy couple, a
small smile gracing her features.

“What are you grinning at you annoying girl?” Harry snapped at Cho irritably, “This means
nothing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shrugged with a smug grin, “I gave him my
plan, I assured him it would work, and it did – now pay up, ten galleons.”

Harry reached into his pocket and tossed the small bag of galleons at her smugly grinning
features. Seeker reflexes kicked in and she caught the bag easily, “This means nothing, it
only worked for them because they’re the two most retarded people on the planet – I
mean, statistically, that kind of shit is bound to work eventually.”

The grin on Cho’s face didn’t dim one iota, it was starting to annoy Harry.

“You’ve got your damn galleons, so stop freaking grinning,” he snapped irritably, “I’m still
right, shit like that would never work in a logical situation, with logical people – which
those two can definitely not be described as.”

Harry turned and walked away, annoyed at how such a stupid and cheesy solution could
have been used to fix a complicated problem – it was completely illogical, and not to
mention stupid!

“I think someone’s jealous,” Cho said in a singsong voice once Harry was out of hearing range.

“I very much doubt it,” Cedric, who had remained out of their conversation, said with a
chuckle, “he just hates being proven wrong.”

The two watched on happily as Archie spun Stephanie around happily, planting random
kisses on her lips, completely oblivious to their spectators and lost in their own little
world. Several silent moments passed between the two until Cho decided to break the silence.

“So,” she began, “why didn’t you sing to me when you asked me to be your girlfriend
Mister Diggory?”

Cedric made a show of looking at his watch and backing away slowly, “Would you look at
the time, Harry and I promised to have a . . .” he never finished his sentence as he
bolted away from her at top speed, leaving his highly amused, if slightly annoyed,
girlfriend behind.

Ever since Archie and Stephanie had officially become an item, it was very rare that you
could see the two apart. Whether it was Archie helping her with her final examinations,
Stephanie sitting in when he tutored Cho to simplify his explanations when she could, in
between classes, or even during them when they shared the same ones and even during
their meals.

Heck, even now, as they were mostly lounging around in the Ravenclaw common room
after Harry returned from another run around the lake, he spotted the two seated
together on one of the single couches by the fire. Stephanie was sitting in Archie’s lap as
the boy was playing with her hair affectionately.

It was so sweet it could make your teeth rot.

Fleur, while not being totally ignored, was seated on one of the other single seater
couches while looking intently at a piece of parchment, in fact, it looked like the clue
sheet that was given to them at the end of the First task. Did she honestly think she’d get
it by staring at it? Like the answer would pop right out of the page like some magic-eye
illusion if she refused to blink or look away?

He needed two whole blackboards and a shit load of counting to get the answer himself,
not that he’d tell her. She was chosen as the Beauxbatons champion for a reason; let her
prove that the Goblet’s selection was a good one.

Gabrielle was seated on the floor by the fire, which was unusual considering that she
mostly spent her time with the Ravenclaw first years when she could, reading some
magical fantasy book she seemed to be captivated with.

Sneaking up on Fleur wasn’t so hard considering she was focusing intently on the code
written on the page and ignoring her surroundings. Using her lack of attentiveness to his
advantage, he literally plopped down on her lap in the same way Stephanie was sitting on
Archie’s lap – the difference was, however, that Stephanie wasn’t drenched in sweat like
he was, nor was Archie opposed to her placement there, two differences Fleur wasn’t at
all pleased about.

“What the fuck?!” she all but hollered as Archie and Stephanie collapsed in a simultaneous
fit of giggles, “Get off me you baboon, you stink!”

“Don’t say such mean things, dear,” Harry said sarcastically as he snuggled closer into
her, “I have just been on a five kilometre run, I’m drenched in sweat, my feet are sore, is
it so wrong to seek some comfort so I can relax? A little foot rub, perhaps?”

Fleur stopped struggling for only a few seconds to look at him in shock before resuming
her efforts to get his much heavier frame off of her, “I swear to Merlin Potter, if you don’t
get off me this instant . . . I’ll, well I’ll . . . I’ll tell everyone in the school that the only
reason you are not interested in a date for the Yule Ball is because you’re gay!”

“You’re not the first person to try such a thing Fleur, darling,” he made sure to rub his
sweaty cheek against hers as she shrieked in disgust, “I believe Stephanie tried that back
in our third year, what did I do to prove you wrong Stephanie?”

Trying to contain her mirth as Fleur tried helplessly to push Harry off of her – a rather
pointless task considering he had his arms wrapped around her waist – Stephanie
answered with a thoughtful expression, “I’m pretty sure you randomly got up during
class and made out with professor Vector.”

“You hear that?” Harry told Fleur who was looking at him in shock and revulsion at the
same time, “I made out with the hottest professor in the school at thirteen years old just
to prove a point – you think I’m scared of you?”

“If you were so desperate to snuggle up with me, all you had to do was ask,” Fleur shot
back smiling sweetly at him, “I would have been more than happy to allow you if only to
use you as a wall to shield myself from the lecherous eyes of the other boys in this room.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Harry rolled his eyes, “You’re just sitting in my chair, no more, no less.”

“Those two have it for each other bad,” Archie whispered to Stephanie under his breath
as they watched on with amusement.

Seeing Fleur try and desperately spasm her way out of Harry’s grip brought a large smile
to her face, too many guys were too scared to do anything like that with her simply
because she was a Veela, it was refreshing to see them acting that way, “You can
practically cut the sexual tension with a knife,” she joked, “speaking of sexual tension,
what do you think when you look at Fleur?”

“That she’s French and blonde? What am I supposed to think?” Archie asked with a
clueless frown.

“You’re not attracted to her?” Stephanie asked curiously, though the underlying worry in
her voice was clear enough, “she is the most attractive girl in school, that much is obvious.”

“It is?” Archie asked incredulously, “because from where I’m sitting, it definitely doesn’t
look that way . . . did I say something wrong again?”

Stephanie’s eyes were watering as she looked at Archie with adoration, “No you idiot, you
didn’t say anything wrong.”

“Oh, I get it,” Archie said triumphantly, “this is one of those times you told me about
where I need to shut-up before you lose that admiration you’re currently feeling for me, right?”

“Right,” she said with a deadpan, as he pretty much hit the nail on the head, “you need
to work on spotting those ‘times’ a lot more without mentioning them if you want more
snogging sessions.”

“I do like snogging sessions,” he said in a mischievous way as he looked up at her.

The door to the Ravenclaw common room suddenly opened with a bang allowing in a
pissed off looking Minerva McGonagall.

“Mister Potter, stop attacking Miss Delacour this instant or I’ll . . .”

“Good evening Minerva, what can I do you for?” Harry cut her off as he finally got off of
the now thoroughly flustered Fleur, who pretty much smelt like Harry’s sweat, or rather,
‘Eau de Potter’, as he liked to call it.

Annoyed that she was being cut off once again in a conversation with the most
frustrating student in the school, she quickly remembered what she had come here for,
“That boy from Beauxbatons was the fifth boy this month that the younger miss Delacour
put in the hospital wing by attacking them in a most . . .”

“Self-defence, Minerva, you’ll find that if you question her, she’ll tell you that she was
just protecting herself each time,” Harry patiently informed the Transfiguration
professor. By now, the entire common room had quieted down to listen to the
conversation going on between Professor and student.

“You will cease to call me by my given name Potter, I will not tolerate . . .”
“If you’re not interested in questioning Gabrielle, then why are you here professor?” Harry
interrupted her yet again, “she’s right over there, after all.”

Glaring angrily at the sweaty teen, she stormed on over to Gabrielle and was about to
question her when Harry interrupted once again.

“Before you start, you may want to explain to her why she needed to run half way
across the castle to escape Draco, Vincent and Gregory,” he suggested, “she’s been
rather confused and scared as to how three of Hogwarts’ students were able to do such a
thing without reprimand when they clearly wished to do her harm.”

“Such a thing was never . . .”

“It’s not my job to run the school, now is it professor,” Harry reminded the cat Animagus,
“did you not think to question the three boys further when they told you a random
nine-year-old toe-bashed them . . .” amused by McGonagall’s harsh glare that clearly said
‘finish that sentence and your ass is mine’, he continued, “in their nether regions?”

“There was no reason to suspect them, they were the victims . . .”

“So you looked for no motive behind a normally perfectly-behaved little girl viciously
attacking them so?” he curiously asked, “You don’t think that would be important information?”

Closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down, less she do
something she’d regret, she composed herself and countered his point, “What about
Mister Davis and Monsieur Philippe?” she asked, “did they threaten to cause her harm also?”

“Negative Professor,” he pleasantly informed her, “Roger had his wand drawn on me,
ready to curse me, while Jacques had his wand drawn on Archades, ready to curse him,”
he looked over to the confused Gabrielle with a fake smile, “I’m so proud of her, don’t you
think we should award her at the next feast for her services?”

“You want to award a girl for hospitalizing five boys by kicking them in their . . .”

“Nether regions,” he finished for her, “sure, why not? Who knows what might have
happened had we allowed those attacks to take place – for all we know, Stephanie and
Archades may not have become an item had Jacques been allowed to attack him.”

McGonagall stretched herself to her full height and straightened her robes,
“Congratulations, Miss Zabini, Mister Montague,” they both gave their own half-hearted
smiles at that, “make sure, Mister Potter, that Miss Delacour does not attack any other
students in such a manner again, less we be forced to inform her parents.”

“I promise she won’t attack anyone else without due cause,” he promised the annoyed
Transfiguration professor, who was peeved at his choice of words, “now, if you haven’t
noticed, I’m rather sweaty and need a shower – you wouldn’t want me to pass my stink
off to anything or anyone else would you?” he didn’t wait for an answer, though he did
grin as Fleur sent a dark look in his direction, “I thought not, good evening.”

With that Harry left an annoyed McGonagall and Fleur in the common room as he went to
go and take a shower, he really did smell bad . . .

After McGonagall had stormed out of their common room, Stephanie turned an amused
glance to her friend.

“You know, you looked like you were enjoying that a little too much Fleur,” Stephanie
informed her friend with a grin, “did you enjoy Harry’s muscled and sweaty body pressed
up against yours like that?”

“I don’t know why you two keep dancing around the issue,” Archie joined in with his
girlfriend, “it’s obvious you have the hots for each other, you may as well do something
about it – actually, Steph, do you think what Harry just did counts as making the first move?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a grin, “It certainly seems so.”

“Oh shut the hell up,” Fleur snapped irritably, “You two are together for a week and you
act like experts in love, when in reality, you two are the stupidest people on the planet
when it comes to the subject,” she stormed off towards the girl’s showers, ignoring
Archie’s and Stephanie’s amused gazes.

“Going to join Harry in the shower are you?” Stephanie called out to Fleur.

“How about re-enacting your performances during the holidays, I’m sure Harry would love
to sod . . .” Archie was cut off by an irate Fleur.

“SHUT UP STEPHANIE, ARCHADES!” they heard her call from the other side of the room,
before the two broke down laughing at the hilarity of the situation.

“Oh man, she’s so easy to annoy,” Archie said, whipping a tear from his eye.

“Hey, have you gotten your dress robes for the ball yet?” Stephanie asked curiously, “I’m
having a little trouble with getting my dress from my mum, but it should still be in the same
colour . . .”

“Relax Steph,” he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest,
“I’ve got my dress robes already, and they match your gown, don’t worry. Everything will
be fine, I promise.”

Stephanie smiled warmly at him and gave him another kiss before resting her head on
Archie’s chest, content with watching the fire cackle and burn while resting in his arms.

“Oh man, tonight is going to be awesome,” Archie exclaimed giddily as he was getting
ready for the ball that evening, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to take Stephanie
to a ball . . . Bianca used to always give me these pointless dance lessons, but now I can
put them to good use!”

Harry gave off the impression that he was listening as he rested on his bed, going over
some Arithmancy work. He’d rather not get ready for the Ball in front of his friend and be
asked a million questions because of it regarding whom he was going with and why he
told no one; let him find out when he arrived that evening.

Speaking of the Yule Ball, he was relieved, to say the least, that he didn’t have to wear
dress robes. Flitwick had told him that so long as what he was wearing was considered
formal in either muggle or the magical world, anything would be okay. Dress robe were
horribly baggy and incredibly ugly, in his opinion. He wouldn’t be caught dead in them.
Archie didn’t seem to mind them though, as he looked at himself in the mirror over and
over at different angles.

“Archades,” Harry cut off his friend with a frown, he had just realized something while
looking out of the window into the cloudless winter sky, “when was the last full moon? I
don’t remember you transforming any time recently . . .”

Archie froze in the middle of fixing his tie as Harry posed the question. Turning to his
friend slowly, his face suddenly pale, he walked over to a calendar he left by his bed at all
times to inform him of such details, he let out a yell of frustration before punching the
stone wall, cracking the heavy stone in several places when his punch made contact.

Archie’s strength always increased the closer it came to a full moon, especially if one was
that very evening.

“You know you can’t go tonight Archades,” Harry suddenly broke his friend out of his
despair; he had slid down the wall and was now cradling his head in his hands.

“She’ll be so upset,” Archie said softly, mainly to himself, “she’s been looking forward to
this ball ever since agreeing to go with me, heck, she caused such a much fuss just to get
the right dress from home sent over too . . . you had to see it. Bianca was so proud
though, so she didn’t mind helping . . .”

“Take your Wolfsbane,” Harry instructed Archie, who took out a vial of thick brown liquid
from his pocket and drank it with one swig, grimacing as the horrible smell and flavour
assaulted his senses, “if she really does like you, she’ll understand and not be upset,”
Harry informed Archie in his most comforting voice. Usually Cedric, or as of recently,
Stephanie, to cheer Archie up if he ever became down about something, but with only
the two of them in their dorm room at the moment, the task fell upon him, unfortunately,
and he wasn’t the best person to do such things.

“Tell her for me will you?” he cast a disillusionment charm over himself, disappearing from
sight, after he had changed into some less expensive clothing, “tell her, no matter what
she looks like, that I think she’d look beautiful no matter what she is wearing, she can’t be
anything but . . .” Harry couldn’t see him anymore, but he could tell he was smiling
nonetheless, “tell her that I’m really sorry too, and I’ll find a way to make it up to her,” he
finished as the door to his room closed and Archie left to take up residence for the
evening in the Shrieking Shack, as per normal when he had to spent the night in his
werewolf form.

Looking at the clock and seeing that it was now almost seven thirty, half an hour before
the ball was scheduled to start, he figured he had twenty minutes before he needed to
start getting ready.

As if he’d ever arrive to any party on time – it was always important to be fashionably
late, especially when you have an anxious Veela waiting on you, counting on you to
make an appearance.

Harry arrived in the entrance hall ten minutes late for the Yule Ball to see Cedric with Cho,
Neville with the youngest Weasley and Viktor with House Elf girl.

“Harry?” Cedric asked, surprised by the fact that not only was the boy making an
appearance, but he looked like he was to be attending. He’d never seen his friend
dressed so formally, and it was definitely a humbling experience, especially when you
couldn’t help comparing yourself with him.

Harry was dressed in a rather stylish cream tuxedo jacket with a black collar and a single
black button keeping it closed. It was rather form fitting, as was his preference with all of
his clothes, apparently. The tuxedo was topped off with some black slacks, a white shirt,
black tie and a pair of black pointed dress shoes that he seemed to be so fond of. Cedric
couldn’t help but try and stand taller and try to flatten out the creases in his robes so he
wouldn’t look as plain compared to him.

“Fleur’s not here yet?” he asked, annoyance clear in his voice. Before Cedric could
respond to that, Hermione gasped when she saw two familiar faces walking down the
stairs in the entry hall towards them. It was a gasp of awe, and the reason why was
clearly apparent.

Harry turned with a raised brow to see Fleur walking down the stairs dressed in a simple,
yet extremely beautiful and elegant cream gown that reached the floor. He was
pleasantly surprised when he noticed that Fleur’s gown was strapless, just how he liked it,
and it had a split running along the side and up to her upper thigh. The colour seemed to
match Harry’s jacket perfectly. Her hair was done up in a bun for the occasion, while her
ears, neck and wrist were adorned with silver and diamond jewellery.

Beside her, looking equally as radiant, if a little more conservative, was Stephanie. She
had opted to wear a black gown, matching her curled black hair that fell around her
shoulders. Unlike Fleur, she had decided not to put her hair up in a bun, but let it hand
loosely at her back instead. Her look was a stark contrast to Fleur’s, Harry noticed. Where
Fleur’s clothing matched her pale skin colour, Stephanie’s was darker, matching her tanned
skin and dark grey eyes.

They both looked beautiful, too bad one of them would have her night ruined.

As Fleur and Stephanie finally reached them, Fleur nodded in approval at Harry’s choice
of dress.

“At least my date for ze ball ‘as good taste in clothes,” Harry shook his head in
annoyance, despite everyone in the room gaping at the two of them, as they found out
for the first time that they were attending the ball together.

“I need to speak with you, come with me for a second,” he waved off Fleur and dragged
Stephanie over by Hogwarts’ main entrance. The door was completely open, as the
outside seemed to be decorated as much as the inside for the occasion, most likely in
case couples wanted to get some ‘fresh air’ during the evening.

“Harry,” Stephanie asked, worry clearly in her voice, “where’s Archie? Did something
happen to him?”

Harry didn’t answer, merely looking up at the night sky as she asked her question.
Eventually, Stephanie mirrored his action and gasped at what she saw.

The full moon shining benevolently down at them, its light bathing Hogwarts’ grounds in
an ethereal glow that made the grounds and the castle itself look extremely romantic – at
least, that’s what Stephanie would have thought had it not been for the implications of
said moon weighing heavily on her mind.

“He said he was sorry for ruining this night for you,” Harry turned away from the moon
and looked directly at the crushed girl. He was about to rejoin the others before the
opening of the Ball until he decided to do his one good deed for the year.

“Archades spends his transformations in the Shrieking Shack,” he informed the surprised
girl, “he’s taken the Wolfsbane, so he should be fine, but I’m usually there to keep him
company through it . . . must be pretty lonely out there all by himself.”

With that mysterious message, he was about to walk off towards his date for the evening
until Stephanie pulled him back by his elbow, “How do I get there?”

At first, he didn’t answer, but her pleading look eventually won out, “There’s a passage
under the Whomping Willow, you may want to consider using a rather long branch on the
lowest knot of the tree to stop it from killing you though.”

“Harry,” she didn’t know what to say, why was he doing this for her, for them? Sure,
they were friends, but he never went out of his way before to help them like this, ever . .
. it was so out of character, she was almost wary to accept the advice, “thank you . . .
this means a lot to me.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before rushing out onto the grounds, lifting the
lower half of her dress high so she wouldn’t trip over it as she ran.

As he rejoined Fleur with the other champions, all of whom were trying their hardest not
to gape at Fleur – much to his amusement – the part-Veela gave his hand a firm squeeze.

“I heard what you did for them,” she said in a soft voice, just in case the others around
them could understand her, “It really means a lot to Stephanie, that she spend this night
with Archie . . . thank you,” she grinned at Harry who seemed rather indifferent towards
the whole ordeal, “who knew? Harry Potter actually has a heart . . .”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone,” he didn’t make eye contact with her, “then everyone will
start expecting favours, and we can’t have that now, can we?”

“No,” she said with definite amusement, “I guess we can’t.”

Once everyone except the champions and their dates had settled down in their seats
inside the hall, McGonagall came out to them, sending a disapproving, if somewhat
surprised, glare at Harry as she did so.

“Champions and their dates, please form two single lines and follow me into the hall to
your seats,” she said as formally as possible. Fleur practically dragged him to the back of
the line, seemingly a firm believer of leaving the best until last. As McGonagall led them
into the hall, they were met with applause as they were led to a large round table at the
head of the hall where the Judges and officials were already sitting.

Harry idly noted that the walls of the halls were covered in sparkling silver frost, with
hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. Instead of the
four large house tables that usually decorated the hall, they were replaced with around
a hundred, smaller, lantern-lit ones. Each one looked to seat about a dozen people or so,
and each were decorated with white or cream decorations.

Harry noted with amusement that Krum, who had taken the front position right behind
McGonagall, or more particularly, his date, Hermione, was receiving harsh glares from the
Bulgarian seeker’s fan club. As amusing as it was though, he and Fleur seemed to be
receiving the same treatment, he for being with the gorgeous girl and her for being with
him. Cedric and Cho, who were walking behind Krum and Hermione just looked happy to
be there and in each other’s presence while Neville, and his date, looked horrendously out
of place next to them.

The head table, Harry noticed, was devoid of Mister Crouch, despite the fact that the
other officials and advisers were there. In his place was a familiar pompous red head
Harry could live the rest life happily without seeing again. Karkaroff was looking at
Hermione with great displeasure while Madame Maxime, dressed in the biggest dress he’d
ever seen, looked torn as she looked between Fleur and himself.

“How does it feel?” Fleur said smugly, taking in the appreciative glances she was receiving
from around ninety percent of the male population in stride, “To be going to the ball with
the best looking person in the school?”

Raising his brow in her direction at her smugness, he answered in kind, “I wouldn’t know,
I’m going with you, aren’t I?” he quipped, much to her annoyance, “I’m definitely not
taking myself so I can’t answer that question,” seeing Fleur looking amused by his
statement rather than offended confused him somewhat, “If you’re fishing for
compliments, you’re doing so in the wrong lake, you won’t get any from me on your looks,
I’d imagine they get old eventually.”

Despite the fact that he hadn’t complimented her, Fleur was more than pleased by his
honest admission.

“Percival,” Harry addressed the orange haired boy brightly as he and his date took a
seat, “what an unpleasant surprise.”

“Potter,” he returned the greeting darkly, “still a troublemaker?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he replied amicably, as a round of menus floated
around to each of them as they took their seats.

Fleur looked at the menu with a frown, clearly not liking the option, “You think they could
have tried a little harder than usual for the Yule Ball’s menu,” she said, “This is almost
exactly what we had served to us at the welcoming feast.”

“Don’t get out much, do you?” Harry asked her dryly, “There has to be around two
hundred people to cater for, or more, it’d be rather difficult to individualize each person’s
order on the spot like they do now,” he looked at the menu himself with a small frown,
“though a little diversity would be appreciated . . .”

“I’ll have the Pork Chops,” Dumbledore said in a loud clear voice, after examining his
menu. No sooner after he had said it had his plate filled with what he asked for, along
with some potatoes and salad as a side.

Everybody else followed suit, ordering their meals and eating their dinner. Harry watched
on with disgusted fascination as Neville seemed to get more and more food on his face and
shirt as time went by.

Krum and Granger were talking about Durmstrang, and the difference in its surroundings
in both winter and summer – something Karkaroff wasn’t all too pleased with, and he let
Krum know as much. The location of Durmstrang was a closely guarded secret, no one
but those who attended knew of its location.
Cho and Cedric seemed stuck in their own little world as they looked around the hall while
pointing and laughing at people that amused them for one reason or another. It was
rather annoying really, he preferred man-whore Cedric personally; at least then he
wasn’t surrounded by all this fluffiness.

Fleur, noticing his frown and getting rather bored by the lack of conversation decided to
strike one up.

“Why do you look so nervous?” she asked in her native tongue, “Are you perhaps
nervous about opening the dancing for the evening with me? Not so confident in your
abilities now, perhaps?”

Harry eyed her dryly, though he couldn’t help the grin that graced his features, “If your
goal in life now is to find a flaw in someone as seemingly as perfect as myself, you’ll only
find disappointment, I assure you.”

“Full of yourself, much?” she asked with a grin as she took a sip of her wine.

“Maybe a little,” he answered distractedly, taking a bite of his steak as he did so. He had
hung his jacket on his chair and rolled up his sleeves as he ate (so he wouldn’t stain his
expensive clothes with the juicy meat), revealing to Fleur for the first time a tattoo of a
European Dragon on his inner right forearm.

“What is that?” she asked with distaste, looking at the marking that blemished his
otherwise unmarked skin.

“Quidditch thing,” he answered dully, “England is known as the English Dragons, it was
kind of a right of passage when I joined,” Fleur blinked owlishly when the dragon tilted its
head and winked at her, “hurt like a bitch, but it looks kind of cool, so I don’t care.”

“How is this the first time I’ve noticed it?” she asked incredulously, “I’ve seen you in lesser
states of undress . . .” Harry tried not to burst out laughing when Madame Maxime
started choking on her wine that had suddenly gone down the wrong pipe.

“Only back at Moony Nights,” Harry conceded, “I keep a glamour on it so Remus doesn’t
bitch at me for being irresponsible, like he did when I got my ears pierced.”

At the mention of his pierced ears, Fleur couldn’t help but look at the beautiful diamond
studs on each of his ear lobes; she had to admit that he pulled the look off well.

“Have you had any luck deciphering the code on the parchment yet?” Harry asked her,
this time being the one to instigate the conversation.

“I might have,” she lied smoothly. The truth was she didn’t know where to begin. She
wasn’t really a fan of puzzles, and this one was a particularly difficult one.

“Have you ever heard of a Shift Cipher?” he suddenly asked her out of the blue.

“Vaguely, during one of my Arithmancy classes,” she answered him, “why?”

“No reason,” he answered as he finished off his steak. Dumbledore rose from his seat at
that point, motioning for everyone else in the hall to follow his example. With a raise of
his wand, the tables were all pushed to the sides of the hall as a raised platform was
elevated with a whole array of instruments on it. Suddenly, the Weird Sisters, a popular
magical band entered the great hall to thunderous applause and took to the stage.

Dressed in his jacket once again, having removed it before the table disappeared from
beside them; Fleur dragged him to the dance floor, followed closely by the rest of the
champions, as they opened the dancing for the evening with a rather simple waltz.

“You know,” Fleur spoke as the two continued to waltz, “You’re not as bad as I thought
you’d be,” she commented lightly as she allowed him to lead her around the dance floor
in tune with the music.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he retorted dryly as the two continued their dance,
oblivious to the jealous stares they were getting.

“You do know,” Fleur began, with a large smile, “that now that I have you out here
dancing with me, that I won’t let you stop until I’m done for the evening,” she informed
the black haired boy happily, “I don’t really fancy dancing with any of the other boys tonight.”

“Not even Ronald?” Harry asked her innocently, as he spun her around so she could get a
better look at the boy who was openly gaping at her, a little drool escaping the corners of
his mouth. To be fair though, he wasn’t alone in that.

“Unfortunately, no,” she replied sarcastically, “You’re mine for tonight, Mister Potter, and
I intend to take advantage of that.”

Harry grinned at her, “I think I quite like the idea of you taking advantage of me, to be
honest . . .”

With a large smile, the two of them continued to dance as more and more couples joined
them on the dance floor now that the evening’s festivities had officially begun. Numerous
people attempted to cut in on Harry and Fleur’s dancing, only to be turned away with an
icy glare each time.

Despite being forced into this situation because he carelessly lost a stupid duel, Harry
couldn’t help but feel content with the way things had turned out. He could definitely
think of worse ways to spend an evening.

That, and Fleur did look smoking hot . . .

Stephanie found herself in a run-down and dark shack after coming up out the end of the
tunnel below the Whomping Willow. At first, she had no idea what knot Harry had been
talking about when she approached the huge, menacing tree, but upon closer inspection,
it was clearly visible right next to the passageway, lowest to the ground.

She’d resisted the urge to cry out in despair when she’d ripped her dress in several places
while trying to get through the tunnel, but the thought of Archie spending Christmas night
on his own while everyone else was enjoying themselves at the Ball stilled her protests –
there were people much worse off, after all.

The shack, she noticed upon entering, was full of dust, broken furniture and large
scratch marks on the walls, floors and even ceilings. It was rather clear merely by looking
at it what this macabre location was often used for.
As she tiptoed through the house – she’d removed her shoes because her feet were
rather sore from running in them for so long – she started to hear the sound of loud
breathing. It sounded as if it were coming from a large beast, or rather, a werewolf.

Finally, coming upon the last room in the house she had yet to explore, she pushed open
the door slowly, cringing as it creaked incredibly loudly in the silence of the night, causing
the creature inside to snap its head in her direction the second she stepped through the door.

Seeing the werewolf curled up in the corner, looking at her the way it was, brought back
memories of that horrific night at the Quidditch World Cup. She all but froze when dark
grey eyes met startling blue ones. The only thing that kept her from screaming, or running
in fright, was the fact that this werewolf staring at her incredulously was her boyfriend.

Upon recognizing just who had walked through the door, the werewolf’s eyes opened
wide in shock as it tried to backpedal away from her as far as possible. In the end,
Archie was merely pushing himself, hard, against a solid wall, and trying to move further
away from her, as Stephanie advanced on him.

“Shh,” she tried to placate him as she reached out to touch him. The more she advanced,
the more Archie realized that Stephanie wasn’t going to turn away, so, in a last-ditch
effort, he started growling menacingly at her, baring his fangs in the hopes that she’d be
scared and leave.

“I’ve never been scared of you in my life Archie,” she said crossly, not approving of his
behaviour, “Don’t think because you’re hairier and have big teeth that you scare me now.”

Archie ducked his head at that, not sure what else to do as he let out a very canine like
whine. It was rather high pitched and depressing, Stephanie could tell, as if Archie was
ashamed of this situation.

“Harry told me that you were sorry,” she said as she approached her boyfriend slowly,
“Forget about the full moon, did you? Why am I not surprised?” she joked, finally invading
his personally space and patting him on the nose. His fur was nice and smooth, despite its
scruffy appearance, and Archie seemed to enjoy the attention.

“Did you honestly think I could enjoy myself tonight if you weren’t there?” she asked him
incredulously as she took a seat against the wall beside Archie. Slowly, she guided his
wolf-like head into her lap so she could continue to pat him affectionately, “sure, I wanted
to go tonight, but only because you were going with me and it was kind of like our first
date – I never wanted to go until you asked me . . . you know that.”

Archie let out another whine, as if trying to speak to her, but his new transformed state
didn’t allow for it.

“Did you really think so little of me that you’d honestly think I’d be disappointed or upset
that you didn’t come tonight?” she asked him softly, though no malice or disbelief was
really in her words, “what a silly question – you’ve been so nice to me, loved me, for your
entire life, and all I’ve done for you in return is treated you as if your feelings didn’t matter . . .”

Seeing Archie raise his large head to try and form some form of protest, she shushed him
by scratching him behind the ear, his tongue rolled out of his mouth as he started panting
at the treatment. Stephanie tried to suppress a giggle at the sight, he was like an
overgrown puppy right now, a humanoid, and extremely large and dangerous puppy, but
harmless, nonetheless . . .
“Even now, when I come to be with you and keep you company tonight, you want me to
stay away for my own happiness,” she said softly, tears threatening to poor out of her
eyes, “you’re so selfless . . . I don’t think I deserve you . . .”

A loud growl snapped her out of her depression as she saw startling blue eyes staring
into her own. Archie rubbed his nuzzle against her face, effectively wiping the tears from
her eyes with his knuckles, before clasping her wrist and placing it back to where it was
earlier, scratching his ear.

“You like that do you?” she asked with a choked sob, as she continued to scratch the
happy werewolf behind the ear.

The two were enveloped in silence as Stephanie continued caressing his ear, just how
he seemed to like it, in a loving manner.

“You know,” Stephanie spoke, barely above a whisper, “I think spending the night together
like this is much more romantic than going to some ball where we’d be surrounded by
hundreds of people,” she chuckled, “I rather like the idea of spending the night with you,
here, like this.”

Archie unwrapped one of his long furry arms from his waist and tried to get a message to
her through hand signs. They were terrible, but he got the message through easily
enough. It was rather hard not to understand a moon going down and the meaning
behind what that meant, added with the pointing to his body . . .

Stephanie let out a giggle when she got the message, “You’re going to be naked in the
morning, aren’t you?” she joked with him. If a werewolf could blush, she was certain that
he would have, “I’ve got to see it some time, right?” she said with a wink, as he buried his
head in her lap. She couldn’t help but laugh at his childish antics being performed through
the body of a large, scary looking werewolf; it just looked so ridiculous.

“By the way,” she just remembered something, “did you know Harry went to the Ball with
Fleur tonight?”

His head snapped up at that as he gave her an incredulous stare, “Oh, I know, they both
looked pretty hot together, I’m not going to lie to you . . .”

Archie’s werewolf features morphed into what she assumed was a frown as he moved
away from her and looked into her eyes. Suddenly, he let out a loud and frightening howl
before flexing his werewolf muscles for her.

Stephanie broke down laughing at the absurdity of the situation, “Don’t worry, I think you
look awesome Archie – way better than Harry anyway.”

The boy gave her what she assumed to be a cocky grin as he snuggled back into her
embrace; enjoying the warmth her body provided him and vice-versa.

Stephanie smiled fondly at him as she continued to scratch the back of his ears. Archie
really was amazing, how could she have been so blind?

Author’s Note:

This is the Betad version, don’t hesitate to leave any other errors you may spot.
Chapter: 28
Chapter 29: The Imposter

“You got thirty seven, a prime number it may be, but not the one you’re looking for, I
suspect,” Septima Vector chided as she made herself comfortable on the two-seater couch
in her office. Her best student stood ten feet away from her in front of three large
blackboards, each of which were covered in dozens of complex equations.

Fortunately for Professor Vector, being one of the leading Arithmancy experts in Europe,
it wasn’t difficult for her to understand at all.

“Indeed,” Harry quietly agreed with an annoyed frown. He took a quick glance at the
middle board before frowning again and waving his hand dismissively at it; the action
caused a blackboard eraser to zoom over towards the board and start to clean it of
chalk, “do you have any suggestions?”

The way in which Harry Potter could so simply control and manipulate magic never
ceased to amaze her. It was part of the reason why she decided to devote a large
amount of her time in helping him when he asked her to. The other reason was because,
despite how loath she was to admit it, he reminded her a lot of herself as a teenager.

Sure, she was nowhere near as annoying as Harry was when he wanted to be, nor as
disrespectful, but they both shared a common drive and determination that was seldom
seen in the youth these days.

Septima’s teenage years, despite what many may believe, were ones full of loneliness and
isolation. That didn’t mean she was upset, or depressed by that, it was just a fact. Her
passion for numbers and their application in magical theory made relating to others a
difficult task, as very few people shared that passion with her, or had any interest
what-so-ever in the field.

Her peers were more interested in partying, drinking and sex, for the most part. She was
the weird one, apparently, for being more interested in her academic life than her social
one. She was the weird one for wanting to do something with her life, and giving it her all
to do so.

It may sound sad, but it really wasn’t that bad. Septima would not have it any other way,
to be honest. Sure, she longed for someone who could share her passions with, someone
she could relate to, but she was fine with the way things were at the moment, she was
doing what she loved, and there was nothing wrong with that.

In fact, at the moment, things were better than fine. It is every true Professor’s dream to
be able to tutor a pupil and watch them escalate to greatness. Harry Potter was that
pupil for her. At first, she may have been leery and uninterested in the work he was
trying to do, to the point where she didn’t even try to understand it – something that him
kissing her during his third year may have promoted – but once she started to look at the
work objectively, she really was amazed.

The pure complexity of the spell Harry was trying to create was absolutely astounding. A
flame that could burn ten times hotter than the sun, but was completely harmless to the
conjurer – when she first heard the description, she had, as much as it pained her to
admit, laughed in his face.

In the end, the joke was on her, especially since Harry promised to show her his work on
the spell so far if she promised to help him with it. It seemed it was just as hard for him to
ask her for help as it was for her to admit that the spell was actually a possibility. In the
end, as promised, Harry would come to her office once a week to work on his creation
under her supervision, and she would help as best she could. Admittedly, spell creation
wasn’t her expertise – it rather being in ward creation and decomposition – but she was
well versed enough in the field to provide a second opinion should he need it.

She wasn’t one of Europe’s best Arithmancers for nothing, after all. Though she may not
specialise in spell creation, she certainly had enough knowledge of that area of expertise
to be of help to Harry.

“Work backwards,” she advised him after her moment’s silence, “the spell looks like it’ll
work as long as you discover an adequate control formula to make sure it doesn’t blow up
in your face,” she informed him dryly, “instead of altering what you have already, which
probably works, leave it as it is and use some trial and error to come up with a balanced
control algorithm.”

“I don’t like using trial and error when I’m making my own spells,” Harry frowned, but
didn’t outright reject the idea. This spell wasn’t like the others he’d created, after all,
“anyway, weren’t you the one that taught us that trial and error is foolish in Arithmancy?”
he frowned, “You were saying something about how only Arithmancers who didn’t know
what they were doing would do such a thing . . .”

Septima scoffed lightly at Harry, “Yes and no,” she began, “while potentially dangerous, I
find that with most of the warding spells I have invented, trial and error is quite helpful
when trying to fill in those last annoying gaps that refuse to go away quietly. I would
strongly advise using it to actually help complete the formula involved in creating the
effect and power of the spell, but that isn’t the issue here.”

“True,” Harry agreed before turning back to the board thoughtfully and resuming his
work, “balancing out all of these equations with their control counterparts will take
forever,” he mumbled as he continued to chalk down more numbers and symbols, “should
be worth it though . . .”

“That is one of the most complicated spells I have ever seen broken down into numbers,”
Septima conceded, “I guess you should be proud of that much. Are you going to submit
that as your thesis and go for your mastery?”

“No,” he immediately replied, surprising the Professor greatly, “I’ve already done my
thesis reports for Transfiguration, Charms and Arithmancy. They should be adequate
enough to get me my masters in their respective fields – besides, there’s no way I’m
letting someone other than you see the Arithmancy behind the Amaterasu flame.”

“Aww,” Septime cooed at Harry teasingly, “should I feel privileged?”

“I don’t care what you feel like,” Harry informed her nonchalantly, “if it weren’t for the
fact that I was certain you couldn’t perform this spell anyway, I wouldn’t have showed
you either.”

Ah, there’s the annoying piece of shit she’d come to . . . be annoyed with, “Are you at
least going to show me your thesis then? I could go over it, if you like. It always helps to
have a second opinion on one’s work.”

“Suck me off, and I may think about it,” he didn’t even look at her when he spoke, “in fact,
just suck me off anyway, it might clear my head.”

“You know, just because Wizarding Britain seems backwards, doesn’t mean there aren’t
sexual harassment laws in place,” Septima warned with narrowed eyes, “you’re lucky I
didn’t do anything after that stunt you pulled in your third year.”

“I already told you, it was Archades under Polyjuice, not me,” he shook his head, glad
that she couldn’t see his amused grin, “would I ever do such a horrible thing?”

Turning to his Arithmancy professor, he was met with an incredulous gaze, “Do you
honestly want me to answer that question?”

“I’d say yes, but I don’t need an ego boost right now,” he grinned before going back to
work, as Septima let out an annoyed sigh, “you said something before about having seen
an algorithm as complicated as this one, care to elaborate?”

“Care to share your thesis?” Septime countered, her arms crossed under her bosom as
she looked at him pointedly.

“That’s hardly a fair trade,” Harry chided lightly, “you’ll have to offer me more than that.”

“You know, if you keep up with the sexual jokes, Miss Delacour might become jealous,”
she grinned at him as he rolled his eyes, “you two looked quite cute together at the Yule
Ball, is there something I should know about?”

“She has a great ass,” Harry informed his professor before turning to her with an amused
grin, “in fact, I’m certain you noticed too, if memory serves.”

Septima suddenly found the ceiling very interesting as she answered, “I don’t know what
you’re talking about,” she quickly changed the topic, “I’ll owe you a favour, are you going
to let me see your thesis?”

“Whatever, fine,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “the spell you were speaking of?”

“It was actually a spell I used for my thesis,” she informed the surprised teen, “there are
other equally, if not more-so complex spells I’ve seen, but they’re usually algorithms
combining multiple spells, not just one, like ours’.”

“Oh?” Harry asked curiously, “care to elaborate?”

“It’s a ward,” the Arithmancy informed him, as if he hadn’t known already, “an offensive
ward, actually. Prove to me that you deserve it by completing this spell, and I’ll teach it
to you someday.”

Harry turned to her with no hidden amount of surprise. To share something so personal
with him was no small feat, after all. Harry locked eyes with her for a few moments before
reaching into his pocket and pulling out a matchbox sized piece of parchment and tossing
it to the equally surprised Professor.

“I was going to let you see it anyway,” he told the still shocked professor, “to have my
mastery approved of, it has to be proven that I’ve made a significant contribution to the
field in question. Being a ward specialist, I suppose you’d be able to adequately surmise if
that particular ward has done just that.”

“People hardly ever get Masteries these days in Arithmancy by creating warding spells,”
Septima informed the prodigious teen, “are you sure you haven’t bitten off more than
you can chew?”

“You tell me,” Harry turned to her with a raised brow, “how many people submit
Parselmagic wards for their thesis?”

Septima balked at the admission, “P-parsel?” she stuttered, “as in snake magic?”

“No, as in a package wrapped in brown paper,” he rolled his eyes in annoyance, “of
course snake magic.”

Taking a few moments to compose herself, she said “You don’t ever do things in halves,
do you?” she let out a weak chuckle, “As impressive as that may be, how do you expect it
to grant you your mastery? No one but a Parselmouth will be able to understand anything
written in the snake language, that, and no one but a Parselmouth will eve be able to use
anything you submit. Remember, you have to contribute to the field, I don’t think they’ll
see your input as a contribution if they can’t even understand it.”

“Anything I’ve written in Parseltongue in my thesis has been translated into English,”
Harry informed her as he continued to work on his spell, “not that’s its necessary, I
intend for my thesis to be a contribution to the field of Arithmancy by helping other
Parselmouths further improve on, or begin to learn to harness their powers.”

“Wait,” Septima tried to comprehend what he was saying, “are you saying that your thesis
is a . . .”

“A comprehensive guide on Ward construction using Parsel magic?” he turned to her with a
grin, “yeah pretty much. Parsel wards are some of the most powerful wards in existence,
that, and Blood wards. I don’t see how helping the training of a whole generation of
Parselmouths can’t be considered a major contribution.”

Septima flicked through the first few introductory pages of the large thesis eagerly as
Harry continued to chalk down numerous equations on the blackboards, before rubbing
them out and rewriting something else. A half an hour passed in almost silence, only the
sound of chalk scraping against the blackboard and pages turning being heard in the
room, before Septime spoke again.

“Truly amazing,” she breathed out, catching Harry’s attention, “I have to admit, I’m
somewhat jealous of you now. A lot of these wards can be created using other means,
yes, but only another Parselmouth could possibly identify any existing wards, let alone
disassemble them . . . that, or someone overloading them with more magic than they
could handle.”

“That solely depends on the power of the caster of the wards,” Harry informed his
Arithmancy professor, “of course, not everything I’ve learned in regards to Parsel wards
is in that thesis, merely the basics that can be built upon by another Parselmouth.
Besides, if you think what’s in there is amazing, you’d probably cream yourself if I
showed you my research on what would happen if I anchored any Parsel ward on an
actual serpent. I haven’t tried it yet, but I am fairly certain that the results will be nothing
short of spectacular.”

“Anchoring wards on a sentient being?” Septima asked incredulously. No matter how

much she wanted to hex him for being so vulgar when describing her possible reaction to
the possibilities, she couldn’t help but – albeit reluctantly – somewhat agree with him.
Wards anchored to a powerful magical serpent, if it were possible, would not only be
immensely powerful, but they’d hardly every need recharging!

The room lapsed into an almost silence once again as Septima continued to read through
Harry’s thesis. The more she read, the more her respect grew for the, normally,
smart-mouthed teen. Sure, she always knew he was a brilliant student, his OWL results
said as much, but the positives effects this thesis could have on the world, and other
Parselmouths in general, was just mind-boggling.

“As amazing as this thesis is,” Septima spoke up, she was just over half-way done with
skimming through the report, “what point are you trying to make? You need to
successfully make a point as well, for it to be a valid thesis.”

“The point is simple,” Harry paused from his mathematical workings and turned to the
Professor, “there is no logical reason to alienate or be suspicious of Parselmouths.
Especially considering the significant benefits they can provide society should their
abilities be nurtured and respected. If you’d just shut up and finish reading the thesis,
you’d see that I prove that using accepted Arithmancy theory.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” Septima tried to reason, ignoring his request to continue
reading, “I understand Britain’s archaic views on such magic, mainly because of Salazar
Slytherin’s dealings in the past,” Harry smirked at the mention of the annoying founder’s
name, “but surely the rest of the world wouldn’t turn their backs on such potentially
powerful wizards and witches.”

“You’d be surprised,” Harry mumbled under his breath, though Septima heard him clearly,
“People fear the unknown, and Parselmagic is practically a completely unknown field of
magic. Tell me, when I refer to Parselmagic, what do you think I’m speaking about?”

“Well, obviously warding magic and similar such charms,” she motioned to his thesis,
“Other then that? I’m not sure, battle magic perhaps?” she used the term ‘battle magic’
instead of ‘dark magic’ just in case she offended the only Parselmouth in the room.

“Wrong,” Harry flipped one of the blackboards around, which was relatively blank, before
starting to draw a familiar symbol. A staff with a snake coiled around it, “where have you
seen such symbols, and what do they usually refer to?”

“Healing,” Septima mumbled under her breath, “are you saying . . .”

“Sure, I can find some ‘offensive’ or ‘dark’ uses for Parselmagic, but that doesn’t mean it’s
offensive or dark in nature. All Parsel magic revolves around warding and healing. If
people knew this, I very much doubt Parselmouths will continue to be seen in such a
negative light,” he shrugged, “but then again, people are stupid.”

“You can do Parsel healing magic?” Septima asked with surprise, “Poppy would love to pick
your brain, you know.”

“As high a priority as it is to go play twenty questions with the school’s resident nurse,
it’s a shame I just can’t,” he replied dryly, “I haven’t invested much time in studying the
healing aspect of Parselmagic, the warding aspect alone is taking up enough of my time.”

Septima sighed and rubbed her temples in a clockwise fashion, “You know, when you first
asked me to help you with your private projects, I thought it’d be an interesting
opportunity to finally try and crack the puzzle that is ‘Harry Potter’. Instead, all I get are
persistent headaches and constant surprises.”

“I gave you that before I asked you to help me,” Harry informed the professor with a
frown, “what could possibly be different now to make you bitch about it?”

Septima didn’t answer immediately, instead, choosing to let out a long, drawn-out sigh
before speaking, “It’s not your fault,” she rubbed her eyes tiredly, “I’m just getting
frustrated lately, I guess. What? With this ridiculous tournament causing a whole plethora
of problems for me, and let’s not even mention Professor Moody’s non-stop complaining . . .”

“Oh?” the professor had just hit on an issue that had been sufficiently bugging him lately
without knowing, “do tell.”

“Oh, that insufferable, overly-paranoid man!” she threw her hands up in annoyance, “if
he’s not complaining about his ‘failure’ of an apprentice continuously trying to contact him,
he’s bitching about you, believe it or not,” she eyed him with amusement, “given old
Mad-Eye Moody a reason to dislike you lately then, Potter?”

“Nothing more than usual,” Harry answered absentmindedly, looking out of the large
window in Professor Vector’s office with a speculative gaze, “Septima,” he said, snapping
out of his daze, “I’m going to have to call out little study session here short tonight,
places to go, people to see, you understand?”

“What?” Professor Vector asked, surprised, “we’ve barely had time to work on your ‘little
project’,” she replied with surprise in her voice.

“Sorry to ruin your evening plans like this,” Harry said dryly, “but I’ve got to go,” with a
wave of his hand, the blackboards were scrubbed clean by floating erasers as Harry made
his leave.

The second the door slammed shut behind Harry, Septima let out a tired sigh before
looking down at the thesis before her. Realising she really had nothing better to do with
her time, she leaned back in her chair and started to read.

“How goesss your assignment at Hogwartsss, my loyal sservent?” a raspy, high-pitched

voice said to the kneeling figure before him.

“My Lord,” the kneeling figure started eagerly, looking up to the weakened form of his
master, “The muggle loving fool does not suspect me, and I have been appointed as
Longbottom’s advisor for the tournament. Everything is moving smoothly.”

There was a tense silence as Lord Voldemort peered into the eyes of his faithful servant,
cursing this pathetic body he was forced to conjure for himself to obtain a semi-corporal
form. He could see the lack of fear in the eyes of Barty Crouch Jr. There was loyalty, oh
yes, a fierce amount of loyalty, but no fear. That was unacceptable.

Fear was a tool he wielded before his temporary downfall expertly to keep his Death Eaters
in line. It was useful, terrifying, and a great weapon to use against his foes. He could see
it, being a master Legilimens, that Barty Crouch Jr., though immensely loyal, didn’t fear him
in this state. That was unacceptable, but unfortunately, something he would have to deal
with at a later date, when he had his power returned to him.

“I hear thingsss, Barty,” Lord Voldemort hissed at the kneeling figure, “How do you intend
on getting Longbottom to fall for our trap if he isss not winning the tournament?” his
beady eyes narrowed at the figure who, much to his delight, flinched under his gaze, “I
will be mosst displeased if, by the end of the Tournament, I am not in possession of
Longbottom . . .”

“I k-know this, my Lord,” Barty murmured, refusing to meet his lord’s eyes as he spoke to
him, “It is why I’ve come to meet with you sooner than expected. I am in need of some
assistance to assure Longbottom’s victory in the next tasssk . . .”

“Crucio!” a voice roared from behind him, as the beam of red light struck him in the back
and caused him to drop to the floor and convulse in agony. Barty knew that it was not his
lord who cast the spell, for if it were, there was no way he’d be able to resist the urge to
scream in agony, but it hurt, nonetheless.

“Enough, Wormtail,” Voldemort ordered his servant sternly, causing the rat Animagus to
drop the spell instantly and retake his position by the door of the old, dilapidated room
they were in dutifully. Voldemort hated having to rely on the useless rat to do his bidding,
but it couldn’t be helped in his current state. If nothing else, Wormtail was loyal only to
him, even if it was only through fear, and that was useful, “explain, Barty, and if I don’t
like what I hear . . . I won’t be amused . . .”

“O-of course, my Lord,” Barty stammered as he retook his kneeling position, his tongue
quickly flicked out before speaking, “the next task, it involves besting a Chimera.
Longbottom stands no chance without outside assistance, but the Ministry and the old
Muggle-loving fool are not taking any risks when it comes to protecting the integrity of
the tournament, and the champions . . .”

Lord Voldemort remained silent for a few moments before speaking, “Did the old fool not
share with you the nature of these ‘protections’?” he asked his servant softly, yet coldly.

“Y-yes, he did, my Lord,” Barty stammered a reply, “but I fear it to be a trap. Also, I do
not know who else he has entrusted this information to, so if I were to act on it and
breach the protections, Dumbledore would know for sure that I am an imposter . . .”

“You sssaid he did not sussspect you,” Voldemort hissed in an angry tone, “did you lie to
me?” Voldemort knew very well he didn’t, but the question seemed to strike a large
amount of fear into his servant; something he was more than willing to encourage.

“N-no, of course not my Lord!” Barty replied hastily, “But someone who is able to stand
against your might for so long must not be underestimated, surely if I were to act
suspicious, it wouldn’t take long for one such as that meddlesome old fool to realise
something is amiss!” Barty’s eyes widened frantically for a moment before bowing his
head once again, “My apologies for any disrespect that I just showed you, my Lord.”

Voldemort knew this, but he was glad to see his servants were not as stupid to not realise
this either. It was then that he was forced to remember that, unlike Wormtail, not all of
his servants were incompetent fools.

“You want assistance with the Chimera, then, my servant?” Lord Voldemort asked his
servant curiously, “do you seek my superior knowledge and aid to defeat the mighty creature.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” Barty Crouch Jr. answered demurely, “this is the last time I will be
asking for your assistance for this mission, I swear to you!”

It had better be, Voldemort thought as he eyes his grovelling servant through narrowed
eyes, “You are lucky I am in a generousss mood,” Lord Voldemort hissed dangerously,
“should you fail with my help, there will be no sssalvation for you, my servant . . .”

“Of course, my lord!” his tongue flicked out once again, “anything! You are most generous!”

“We shall sssee . . .” Voldemort hissed out to the decrepit room, “My dear Nagini, you
have my permission to eat this fool should he return with unfavourable news the next
time we see him.”

“Thank you Master, I do. Taste good, he will,” his familiar hissed, as Voldemort cringed at
her poor grammar. The effect hearing the snake language had on his servants was
always an amusing one though, it was just fortunate that they couldn’t understand what
she was saying.

“What’s wrong with you?” Stephanie asked Fleur curiously. Archie and her had just come
back from a walk around the lake when they spotted Fleur gazing into the fire in the
Ravenclaw common room miserably for no apparent reason.

“Other than ze fact zat I’m going to die in ze next task of ze tournament, and I don’t
know why?” Fleur asked her friend sarcastically, “Not much, really.”

“Didn’t you say something about having solved the puzzle?” Stephanie asked her friend
with confusion, “You said you had it solved, like, the other day.”

“I did,” Fleur insisted miserably, “but it only gave me anozzer riddle, stupid fucking
tournament!” she finished, cursing in her native tongue.

“And what riddle is that?” Archie asked curiously. He had been bugging Harry and Cedric
for information on the second task for weeks, none of which ever felt generous enough to
spill any details whatsoever.

Fleur threw the sheet of parchment with the code written on it to Archie, who caught the
scrunched up piece of paper easily. Working around his girlfriend, who was once again
sitting on his lap, he flattened out the scrunched up piece of paper to see what was
written inside. To his surprise, underneath the gibberish code written on the piece of
paper, there was a much more legible one.

“It is a combination of three creatures,” Archie deadpanned, looking at Fleur, “could they
be more vague?”

“Zat is my problem!” she sighed in frustration, “I can think of lots of creatures of ze top
of my head zat fir ze description . . .”

“Could be a Manticore,” Archie offered helpfully, “Head and body of a lion, wings of a
dragon and a scorpion’s tail – they’re so cool!”

“And deadly,” Stephanie deadpanned, “what about a Runespoor? They didn’t exactly say
it had to be three different creatures . . . a Runespoor is basically three snakes combined
into one big three headed snake . . .”

“Yeah, but that isn’t as cool,” Archie logically reminded her, causing his girlfriend to roll her
eyes in annoyance, “There’s a Chimera, which are pretty cool as well . . . not as
dangerous as a Manticore though . . .”

“Is that the one with three heads, a lion, a goat and a dragon?” Stephanie mused, as
Archie nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, they’re kind of like Manticore like that, with the dragon and lion parts and all, but
these guys have hind legs of a goat, and a tail of a dragon, instead of wings. They also
breathe scary hot fire, from memory, from the dragon head only though . . .” Archie
lectured his girlfriend as Fleur sat, seemingly forgotten, glaring at the two in frustration.
If they were supposed to be reassuring her, they were doing a shitty job!

“How do you know all this?” Stephanie asked with a grin, “I didn’t think you were so
interested in magical creatures.”

“Hey, I need to know about the creatures I’ll be fighting heroically one day for potions
ingredients, don’t I?” Archie said with a cheesy grin, “Oh, I just remembered, there’s a
Nue as well . . . they’re kind of weird and funny looking though.”

“I know them ones!” Stephanie interrupted her boyfriend’s explanation, “Head of a

monkey, body of a graceful tiger and a huge anaconda for a tail. I thought they were
extinct though . . .”

“They were artificially created by wizards,” Archie reminded her, “if that were true, they’d
just make more. No, the country that they’re native to probably has a tight control on
them or something. I think they were causing a lot of trouble in the Vietnamese jungles
during some muggle war, when they were forced to reign them in.”

“Hmm, that sounds about right, hey, speaking of Vietnam, what about Qilin?” Stephanie
asked curiously, “they’re made up of three creatures too, I think, and they’re from
around there.”

“They’re from China, I think,” Archie corrected, “they’re kind of small though, dog size
small I’m pretty sure . . .”

“Yeah, but there could be more than one, just like the first task,” Stephanie reminded
Archie, reminding them of the Gorpack, “they’d be pretty deadly in groups, and they can
survive underwater, I think; they’re part fish, from memory.

“Yeah, Dragon heads, fish-scale bodies and ox hooves, hey, wouldn’t it be cool to have
one? Raise it like a dog or something . . .”

“No,” Stephanie told him firmly in a ‘no nonsense’ tone.

“Oh, but come on, wouldn’t it be cool if . . .” Archie tried to reason.

“Absolutely not,” Stephanie cut him off once again, “stop being stupid.”

“Oh, come on,” Archie whined, “How come Harry gets to have his own little attack-pet
and we don’t?”
“Stop referring to my sister as zat buffoon’s pet!” Fleur snapped, but she was mostly
ignored. She didn’t mind Harry manipulating her sister to be his personal little attack-Veela .
. . thing, but to call her his pet was a bit too degrading.

“Oh, so the Qilin would be our pet now, would it?” Stephanie asked with a smile, as Archie
flushed in embarrassment, “is this our first ‘argument’.”

“No,” Archie sighed, “I just thought it’d be cool if we could train one to kick Harry in the
balls, see how he likes it for a change,” he tried to coax Stephanie, “come on, you can’t
honestly say he doesn’t deserve a good kick in the testes . . .”

Fleur was shocked to see Stephanie actually considering the proposal for a very brief
moment, “Still no,” Stephanie finally said, “and that’s only because Harry will get Gabby to
kick you just for thinking about it, and I, well, that won’t be good . . .”

Both of their faces flushed as Stephanie showed her newfound protectiveness of Archie’s
genitals, as Fleur rolled her eyes in annoyance. These two were so stupid that it wasn’t
even funny anymore.

“Hey, there’s those Indian creatures too,” Archie broke the awkward silence, “Feline
head, elephant tusks and a feathery, bird-like tail?”

“Oh yeah, Yeeley, Yarlu, Yali, yeah that’s it, Yali,” Stephanie mused, “They’re funny
looking creatures from memory . . . not too dangerous . . . “

“Will you two shut-up!” Fleur snapped once again, fed up with being ignored, “now that
you ‘ave sufficiently proved ‘ow useless you both are, can you stop talking about ze
dangerous creatures that could all maim and kill me in ze next task?”

“Merlin, there’s no need to snap at us,” Archie said with an affronted tone.

“Just ignore it Archie,” Stephanie said as she made herself comfortable in her new
favourite seat, “she’s just frustrated because Harry won’t respond to any of her
advances,” she said in an overly sweet voice.

“You are comfortable to poke fun at my love life now zat yours isn’t so pathetic, yes?”
Fleur snapped at her friend, crossing her arms and glaring at her friend angrily.

“What happened with you two at the ball?” Archie quickly changed the topic and asked
the blonde part-Veela, “from what Stephanie told me, you two pretty much danced
together all night, things look to be going pretty well to me . . .”

“I ‘ave not spoken to ‘im since ze ball,” Fleur said dejectedly as she slumped further into
her chair, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Holy shit,” Stephanie breathed out in realisation, “you really like him, I mean, really, really
like him . . .”

“I would not be putting forth such an effort if I did not,” Fleur said miserably, “If I try and
‘arder, ‘e will think me to be like one of zose scarlet women that lust after ‘im so shamelessly.”

“Well,” Archie spoke up, “if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t seen much of him since
the ball either,” he shrugged, “actually, I don’t see much of him at all unless he needs me
for something, or I need him.”

“Zat doesn’t bother you?” Fleur asked with a frown, “Friends, especially ones as close as
you two, should be spending more recreational time together . . . at ze very least, share
some non-school related ‘obbies so zat they can relate somewhat.”

Archie shrugged nonchalantly, “Harry’s a busy guy, and so am I, usually,” he squeezed

Stephanie a little tighter in a reassuring gesture, “you have to remember though, where
I’m just going for my Potion mastery after I graduate, Harry’s going for Transfiguration,
Charms and Arithmancy . . . it keeps him busy, you know.”

“He’s what?” Fleur and Stephanie chorused incredulously, as Archie shrugged again.

“You expected something less?” Archie asked with amusement, “what do you think he
does during all that time he’s ‘mysteriously’ disappeared? Shave his ass?”

“He shaves his ass?” Stephanie asked as she tried to hold in a laugh.

“Yes? No? How the hell should I know?” Archie looked at his girlfriend with a troubling
frown, “It was just an expression, I don’t look at Harry’s ass . . . stop looking at me like
that Fleur, I don’t!”

“Anyway,” Fleur smirked off that awkward moment, “I just thought ‘e was working out in
‘is spare time . . . you don’t get a body like zat with just, ‘ow did you say it? ‘Shaving ‘is ass’?”

“Notice that, did you?” Stephanie asked with amusement, “you two joke about it all the
time, but have you actually seen him naked?”

“Of course not!” Fleur snapped, “ ‘Arry just likes to annoy Madame Maxime, or so ‘e says . . .”

“Yeah, I believe that,” Archie grinned, “So why don’t you just grow a pair and tell him
what you think about him? You did have a good time with him at the ball, right?”

“Of course she did,” Stephanie answered for her friend, “you should have seen her the
next day, she had this ridiculous smile on her face that just wouldn’t go away,” Stephanie
leaned in a whispered loudly to Archie “Madame Maxime thought she was high, but don’t
tell anyone I said . . . oomph, bitch!”

Fleur, who had thrown a pillow at her friend’s head, just grinned mischievously at her,
“Maybe you should keep your mouth shut?”

“No way,” Stephanie grinned right back, “after all the shit you gave me about Archie
before we got together, you deserve everything you get.”

“And what is she getting, exactly?” Harry’s voice spoke up form behind them, startling the
three chatting teens, as they hadn’t heard him coming, “okay, that wasn’t weird or
anything . . .”

“What the hell Harry?” Archie said first, recovering from his shock, “can you stop sneaking
up on people like that, for fuck’s sake!”

Harry looked around the noisy common room before turning to Archie with a raised brow,
“Right, whatever, I need to speak to you.”
“Speak,” Archie countered, motioning to an empty chair beside them, “You’re not
interrupting anything.”

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance, “In private, you moron.”

“Hey now, that’s not very . . . oh fine, just stop glaring at me,” Archie sighed in
exasperation before giving Stephanie a peck on the lips as he slid her off of him and
following Harry to a secluded corner of the common room.

“Since when are you avoiding Fleur?” Archie opened up the conversation, much to
Harry’s confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Harry shook his head, “Never mind, I don’t care.
Have you noticed anything strange about Alastor this year?”

“Moody?” Archie asked curiously, his thoughts about Fleur leaving his mind at the mention
of the ex-Auror, “Possibly, why? Is he giving you a hard time?”

“Not particularly. So, have you noticed anything, or not?” Harry asked his friend.

“Nothing much,” Archie mused as he scratched his chin thoughtfully, “there was that time
where you left the Defence class where he tore into your old man, calling him a coward, a
poor duellist and what not,” Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of his father,
“I guess you could call that strange, personally, I’d never heard him speak of your old
man before, let alone insult him like that . . .”

“He called him a poor duellist, did he?” Harry mused quietly, a contemplative look on his
face, “that’s interesting . . .”

“This is one of those things where you realise something cool, but aren’t going to tell me
about, isn’t it?” Archie asked with a grin.

“Pretty much,” Harry returned the grin, “you notice anything else interesting? Think back
to what you noticed about him whenever he’d drop by with Nymphadora at Moony Nights.”

Archie frowned at Harry in confusion, “Why are you asking me? You’re usually the
observant one, that’s what you bring to this relationship – I bring the looks, the smarts
and the general coolness, and you bring the wand, and the observational skills . . .”

“First,” Harry interrupted his friend, “don’t refer to our friendship as a relationship, and
secondly, you bring none of those things to our mutually beneficial partnership.”

“Mutually beneficial partnership sounds like something the Ministry would use to formally
describe gay relationships,” Archie deadpanned. Harry grimaced at the thought, Archie
was probably right.

“So, you got anything?” Harry quickly changed the topic, before things became even
more awkward.

“Now that you mention it,” Archie frowned, “I don’t remember Moody drinking so much on
the job, I mean, I knew he had a flask to drink from because he doesn’t trust people to not
slip him something, but I’d never actually seen him drink out of it until we started school . .
.” Archie scratched his chin in thought, “didn’t he mention something about Firewhisky
being in that flask? With the amount of times he drinks from it, you’d expect him to be a
little tipsy, at the least . . . and let’s not mention how McGonagall would rip into him if she
found out he was drinking on the job . . .”

“Is that right?” Harry looked to be lost in thought as he processed that information. Archie
didn’t even want to know what was going on in that crazy head of his.

“You and Stephanie seem to be attached to the hip again, as always,” Harry suddenly
mentioned, much to Archie’s surprise, “either that, or she’s already got you on a tight leash.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, mate,” Archie grinned, “so are you going to tell me why
you’re avoiding Fleur, or are you just going to keep being a dick to her?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Harry asked with a frown, remembering that this
wasn’t the first time Archie had brought that up in this conversation, “Not that I care if I
am, but how am I avoiding her?”

“You haven’t spoken to her since the ball?” Archie suggested, “Not that it’s my business,
but I thought you, at least, had a good time at the Yule Ball, despite the fact that you try
your damned hardest to not have a good time as often as possible.”

“Yes, and you are the king of good times – how was your shack that night, by the way?”
Harry countered dryly.

“Excellent mate,” Archie grinned, “I was with Stephanie all night with no interruption;
Who needs to go to some stupid ball when you can spend a whole night like that with the
girl you’re crazy about?” he asked with a huge grin as Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sounds like fun,” Harry said in a very uninterested manner, “and how is not
speaking to Fleur since the ball construe as avoiding her? That was like three days ago . . .”

“It was two weeks ago, what the fuck is the matter with you?” Archie asked his friend
incredulously.

“Really?” Harry asked, genuinely surprised, “I guess I’ve been kind of busy, shit
happens, what do you want me to say?”

“Well, say something to Fleur if you actually like her, she sounds miserable,” Archie advised.

“What the hell for?” Harry asked incredulously. Archie resisted the urge to slam his head
against the wall in annoyance.

“You know, for a smart person, you’re the dumbest motherfucker I’ve ever met!” Archie
said in exasperation, “by the way, do you know which creature the champions will be
facing in the second task?”

“Fleur knows all she needs to know to figure that out herself,” Harry said dryly, avoiding
the question, “she doesn’t need to send her best friend’s lapdog to fish for answers.”

“I’m not fishing for anything, I’m just asking in a very congenial manner completely out of
self-interest,” he tried to lie, lamely, in Harry’s opinion.

“You know, for a dumb person, you’re the dumbest motherfucker I’ve ever met,” Harry
reworded his friend’s insult and sent it right back at him.
“That’s not very nice,” Archie said as he walked back over to Stephanie and plopped
down on her lap, “hey sexy-legs, you miss me?”

Harry looked away as the couple shared a kiss to Fleur with a raised brow, “Did he just
say what I think he said?”

Even Fleur had a limit when it came to fluffiness, “Zey ‘ave been calling each ozzer zose
ridiculous names all day,” she rolled her eyes at their general behaviour, “I don’t think zey
realise ‘ow stupid zey look, or sound.”

“Probably not,” Harry agreed, taking the seat beside Fleur as he propped his feet up on
the coffee table nearby, “So I hear you haven’t figured out what exactly you’ll be facing
in the next task,” he said conversationally, ignoring the glare Fleur sent Archie’s way,
“but you know it’s a combination of three creatures.”

“So it would seem,” Fleur answered curtly.

“You have all the information you need,” Harry shrugged, “especially if you’ve come this far.”

“What are you talking about?” Fleur snapped, gaining Stephanie and Archie’s attention in
the process, “I ‘ave ‘ad enough of zese stupid riddles, if you want to speak wiz me, do so
in English.”

“You know you needed a shift cipher to get that little message you have,” Harry said,
ignoring her attitude, “you didn’t find it peculiar that each word had a different key?”

“It was probably to make it a little more difficult so smart asses like you could not gloat so
easily about solving it,” she said grumpily, “I don’t see why else . . .” Fleur’s eyes widened
as realisation dawned on her, “Archie, give me ze sheet of paper I gave you . . .” she
stopped mid sentence as Harry lazily started to trace the English alphabet with his wand
after giving it a quick twirl. Much to the onlookers’ amazement, his wand was writing on
the air as if he were using a quill, except, each letter was written in a very thin flame.

“How the fuck . . .” Archie began to question, only for Harry to cut him off.

“If you don’t know how I’m doing this, explaining anything more will just be pointless,” he
pointed out dryly, as he finished writing out all twenty-six letters of the alphabet for Fleur
to see.

“Amazing, it is a combination of ze Incendio charm and ze Levitation charm,” Fleur pointed

out, earning an annoyed frown from Harry, “You are controlling ze weak flames you
conjure wiz ze levitation charm, forming letters in ze process.”

“I believe I did this for a purpose,” Harry deadpanned, snapping Fleur into action. Using
her code sheet as a reference, she aligned the number of each word’s key in the shift
cipher to a letter in the alphabet, writing each letter down as she discovered it.

“Oh shit,” Fleur cursed in French, much to Harry’s amusement, “ ‘Ow did I know it would
be something like zis?”

“What is it?” Stephanie asked impatiently, “What did you find out?”

“Well,” Fleur began, “A shift cipher is basically a coding technique where each letter of a
word is shifted, or changed wiz another letter of ze alphabet based on a certain key
number,” she explained to the uninformed duo, “So, if ze first word was ‘apple’, and ze
key was four, you would change each letter in ze word with ze ones four characters after
ze originals. Zerefore, ‘apple’ would become ‘e.t.t.p.i’, do you understand?”

“Yeah, you already used that method to find out the message ‘it is a combination of three
creatures’, didn’t you?” Stephanie asked with a confused frown.

“Yes, I did,” she answered, “but zere was something weird with ze message. Each word
‘ad a different key, which is most unusual wiz a shift cipher.”

“Oh, I get it,” Archie suddenly realised, “the answer to the little riddle-message thing is
obtained when you assign each key to a letter in the alphabet,” he pointed out, “so, what
does it spell already? Don’t keep us in suspense!”

Harry sighed and with a flick of his wand, seven of the fiery letters floated together to
create a familiar fiery word.

“Chimera,” Archie and Stephanie breathed out in unison, “wow, sucks to be you Fleur,”
Archie said sympathetically, earning a punch to the gut from his girlfriend.

“What he means is,” Stephanie sent a glare at Archie, “that you’ll do spectacularly, so
there’s no need to worry.”

“Right, whatever,” Harry rolled his eyes, “now that my good deed for the day is done, I
need to go and meet someone.”

“Off to devise another ‘cunning stratagem’ for your champion then?” Archie asked with a
grin, as Harry walked away.

“No,” was his simple answer, as he left the common, leaving three subdued teen in his wake.

“Chimera, huh?” Archie chuckled, “better check in with Maxime and see if she can help you
with anything.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Fleur agreed as she gazed into the fire with a blank expression.

“What’s her problem?” Archie whispered to Stephanie, “Shouldn’t she be a little relieved,
at least?”

“Harry still didn’t speak to her just now, just at her,” Stephanie informed her clueless
boyfriend, “I think she’s a little upset.”

“Wow, she really does like him,” Archie observed his part-Veela friend with a sympathetic
expression, “I don’t see why though, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks,” Stephanie gave him a tight squeeze, as he was still lazing on top of her, “it’ll
mean a lot to her.”

“I don’t think Harry’s doing this intentionally though,” Archie spoke up, “when we were
speaking before, he was asking all these really weird questions, and he thought the Ball
was only three days ago . . .”

“He actually lost track of what day it was?” Stephanie asked sceptically, “I didn’t think
that was actually possible.”
“It’s happened to me a few times,” Archie said with a shrug, “I can get carried away
sometimes when I get a new idea I want to test, it can be pretty exhilarating”

“What were you speaking about?” Stephanie suddenly asked him, interested in what
Harry wanted to talk about in privacy.

“I’d tell you if Harry wouldn’t hunt me down and kill me for blabbing again,” Archie
chuckled nervously, “He already gave me a huge grilling for telling Fleur about his mum.”

“Ouch,” Stephanie winced sympathetically, “where did the bad man hurt you, want me to
kiss it better?” she cooed to him as if he were a baby.

“You have no idea how hard it is to resist the urge to point to my penis right now,” Archie
joked, yelping as Stephanie pinched him, hard.

“Have you got a plan for the next task yet?” ‘Mad-eye’ Moody asked the boy in his room
in a gruff voice. Neville Longbottom looked up from his seated position with a defiant look.

“I’ll think of something,” Neville assured his advisor unconvincingly, “I thought of something
last time.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Moody said with a scowl, “you got by in the last task because of
Dumbledore’s wards, and a shit load of luck, it won’t happen again. Especially considering
what the next task entails!”

“I’ve got Hermione trying to find out as much about Chimeras as she can,” Neville said
dejectedly, “there isn’t much in the Library that we can use, just some information on
how they were created, and from what creatures . . .”

“You’re not going to find what you need in a Library!” Moody barked, “Chimeras are an
extremely rare and powerful dark creature, do you think Hogwarts would stock any
information on them? Much less in a school library?”

“I had to try,” Neville mumbled in an annoyed tone, “what else was I supposed to do?”

“Practice those spells I told you to practise!” Moody barked, “your opponents have two
years on you in schooling, and even without that, they were all much better students
than you are at this age, why, Dumbledore was telling me the other day that in his fourth
year, Diggory could transfigure a whistle into a watch and have it sing the time to you!”

“He doesn’t seem that great,” Neville mumbled sourly, “if it weren’t for Potter, I doubt he
would have done so well in the first task . . .”

Moody ignored him though, “That French girl? She may look like a fairy princess, but she’s
as much of a princess as I am. You can be sure that she’ll have a plan long before she
steps foot in that arena to fight those beasts!” he barked at Neville, “Krum’s head also
may be full of sawdust, but Karkaroff’s is not, you can be sure that they’re already got
some spells that’ll work on Chimeras, and that Krum’s already mastered them!”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Neville cried out angrily, “I’ve been trying to learn those
spells you’ve given me, I’ve got two of them down already, what more do you want?!”
“Some effort you useless boy!” Moody hollered at the angry fourteen year old, causing
him to shrink back into his chair, “You think this is some game? Do you think Dumbledore
will be able to just jump in front of the Chimera and stop it from incinerating you with its
fire breath?” he sneered at the Boy-who-lived, “You’ve survived thus far in life mainly
because of Dumbledore’s help and a lot of luck. While you and your little idiotic friends
were proud of your victory in the first task, your opponents were laughing at you behind
your back!”

“They weren’t laughing . . .” Neville began to reason, but Moody cut him off instantly.

“And they were right to do so!” Moody roared, “You looked like a complete idiot, running
around like a weak chicken with your head cut off! Throwing around blasting curses like it
was a new craze? What were you thinking?!”

“I’m not weak!” Neville protested vehemently, but Moody completely ignored his childish
rebuttal.

“What would you have done had one of your spell accidently killed one of the Gorpack?”
Moody asked in a deadly calm voice, “do you think you could have held off two
murderous Gorpack that were out for your blood, if they wanted you dead?”

“They were already out for my blood,” Neville reminded his advisor, who seemed to be
doing little advising right now.

“Are you a complete idiot?” Moody asked incredulously, “Those Gorpack were playing with
you! They weren’t serious! If they were, they would have killed you first, not captured
you! Then they would have mounted your head on a pike and paraded it around the forest
like a trophy! As I said, you have Dumbledore to thank for saving your worthless hide!”

Rightfully shamed, Neville clenched his fists angrily in his lap as his face flushed in
embarrassment, “What do you want me to do?” he asked bitterly, “the other champions
are miles ahead of me in skill, I have no way in keeping up with them, let alone catching
up to them,” Moody grinned as the boy swallowed his pride. It was obviously a huge
thing to swallow, but he didn’t need the boy killing himself because of his over-inflated
ego, after all.

“Good,” Moody said in a calm voice, his magical-eye was whizzing around in his skull as he
spoke, “Now, there’s something about Chimeras that many people tend to overlook, can
you tell me what that is?”

Neville levelled a blank stare on Moody, the ex-Auror should have expected as such when
asking the question.

“Of course you can’t,” he nodded his head distractedly, “What is the Chimera’s unique
characteristic?”

“Err, it has three heads?” Neville ventured a guess, though not entirely too far off.

“Three different heads,” Moody corrected, “and each of these heads has its own
personality. In essence, the dragon head acts like a dragon, the lion head like a lion, and
the goat head like a goat, it has no ‘single’ identity,” Moody lectured, “It is, in essence,
three different creatures sharing the one body!”

“That must be confusing,” Neville mumbled under his breath, “I may not have known that,
but doesn’t everyone else?”

“Some might,” Moody nodded, “but not many would put much stock into it. The trick is to
get the three heads fighting with each other, each of them wanting to do different things
with the one body,” he advised his champion, “you see, if all three heads of a Chimera are
solely focused on you, then you’re in trouble. The dragon can roast you, the lion can use
its magically empowered roar to immobilize you and the goat can you its large horns to
skewer you – truly, a deadly creature.”

“So, all I have to do is make sure the three heads are more preoccupied with each
enough to completely ignore me,” Neville guessed with a large smile, “how are we going to
do it?”

“Right, good lad,” Moody nodded in approval, “but it’s easier said than done. It only
takes a second for the Chimera to do away with you with either one of its many offensive
abilities, so if you’re not quick, the ‘Boy-who-lived’ is going to be the
‘Boy-who-got-his-ass-handed-to-him-by-a-Chimera’, you get what I’m saying?”

Neville nodded mutely as Moody described the severity of the situation. What was he
supposed to say? Cool? That’s awesome? Unsurprisingly, words failed him.

“If a Chimera’s heads are all focused on one goal, or one thing, then there is little that can
stop it getting what it wants,” Moody said in a deathly calm voice, “which is why we can’t
let that happen!”

“Yes sir,” Neville meekly replied with the only thing he thought appropriate, “what am I
supposed to do?”

“We’ve established that!” Moody barked, as he rummaged through his desk, searching
for something. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled it out of the drawer and
deposited it on the desk before the ‘Boy-who-lived’, “the question is, ‘how’ are we going to
do it. We’re going to use those ingredients to help us brew a potion that will help us, are
you ready?”

“Yes sir,” Neville obediently answered, before paling when Moody dropped a thick tome
on the desk before him.

“Read that,” Moody gruffly ordered, “find your ingredients in that book, and find out
what we can make with it!” he ordered the student, who was still looking at the book in
shock. Grabbing his cane, he slammed it on the desk right beside Neville, startling the boy
out of his stupor “Quit wasting time! Or you can leave and not get my help laddie!”

“Yes sir,” Neville grumbled sourly, the idea of having to read any book for himself, instead
of delegating such tasks to Hermione not sitting well with him.

Albus Dumbledore sighed warily as he ascended the stairs to his office. Ever since this
Tournament had begun, and young Neville’s name called from the Goblet of Fire, his life
seemed to have become infinitely more complicated. Constant meetings with foreign
ministries and organizations to set up these tasks and make sure they ran smoothly,
frequent letters and correspondence with Augusta Longbottom, ensuring her that her
grandson was safe, and two foreign schools to accommodate to the best of his abilities
even wore down one such as himself.
“Good evening Humphrey, old friend, would you please grant me access to my office?”
Dumbledore cordially requested of the loyal stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to his
office. Without a second thought, the large stone gargoyle came to life and moved out
of the way, allowing Dumbledore access to his office.

If Dumbledore was expecting a pleasantly quiet evening to himself with a nice glass of
Firewhisky, he was sorely mistaken. It must have been too much to ask for, apparently,
for standing by his faithful familiar was none other than Harry Potter, resident prodigal
student and general troublemaker extraordinaire.

Harry wasn’t a troublemaker like his father was, no, that kind of trouble would be simple
to deal with. Harry, seemed to like to cause trouble in a way that not only didn’t break
any serious rules, but it also caused much more headaches – Dumbledore at least assumed
he liked causing trouble, either that or the boy just had a natural affinity for it. Almost
every authoritarian figure the boy had come into contact with had something negative to
say about the boy; Minerva McGonagall, Cornelius Fudge (though Dumbledore didn’t
sympathise with the minister in the slightest), Septima Vector, Severus Snape, Olympe
Maxime, Igor Karkaroff and Alastor Moody were only some of the people who had at
least some issues with the boy, and that wasn’t even mentioning the students or other
children his age.

Yes, Harry Potter was quite the enigma. The boy was the perfect student in every sense
of the word, - studious, attentive when necessary, determined, incredibly gifted and a
willingness to lean that Dumbledore had only ever seen on rare occasions as a
headmaster of Hogwarts – yet, quite possibly, at times, the most frustrating individual to
deal with on the planet.

How in the name of Merlin’s crooked staff did the boy manage to get into his office
without him knowing?

“Your bird let me in,” Harry answered the venerable headmaster’s unasked question, as
he pocketed something and turned to the elder man, “I think he likes me.”

Fawkes let out a pleasant trill as Dumbledore sent a disapproving glare to the magnificent
creature. If the Phoenix was bothered by his bonded’s opinion or apparent disapproval
though, he certainly didn’t show it, “Is there a reason you have seen fit to break into my
office, Mister Potter?” Dumbledore asked with a neutral face, “if it is anything other than
an issue of the upmost importance, I am afraid I cannot overlook such an offence and
must impart on you a severe punishment.”

Harry brow raised in surprise at the declaration, “Well, I guess I should feel glad that it is
a matter of upmost importance then,” Harry looked around the cluttered office curiously
before continuing, “that is, of course, if you consider a possible imposter within your
school a matter of upmost importance – actually, ‘another imposter’ is probably the
correct way to describe it.”

“Indeed?” Dumbledore inquired curiously, ignoring the obvious jab against his person, as
he strode towards his desk and took a seat in his large and comfortable looking chair,
“where are my manners? Can I offer you a seat Mister Potter? Perhaps a Lemon Drop?”

Harry had taken the seat before it was offered and declined the offer of sweets, “I’m
sorry, something about accepting candy from weird old men just doesn’t sit well with me,”
Harry dryly replied, “I’ll take a glass of coke though, if you’re offering.”
“Oh, you must be referring to that muggle fizzy drink you seem to like so much,”
Dumbledore pointed out in realisation, “Unfortunately, we do not stock it here at Hogwarts . . .”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, taking a swig of his flask before pocketing it once again.

“I’d offer to get one of the elves to fetch you a glass,” Dumbledore said with amusement,
“but it seems such an action would be unnecessary.”

“It does seem that way,” Harry agreed, “wow, you look tired.”

“I was actually planning on retiring for the evening,” Dumbledore informed him merrily, “it
seems I had an unscheduled meeting to attend to first, however.”

“Oh well, sleep’s overrated,” Harry said as he reclined further into the chair opposite
the headmaster, “you get many visitors in here?”

“Usually Professors in need of my assistance, or the odd student who has been
misbehaving more than usual,” Dumbledore said as he popped a small yellow sweet into
his mouth, “The Minister used to frequent my fireplace regularly, though we have had
somewhat of a falling out recently, I’m sure you understand.”

“Yeah, he’s quite the dip-shit,” Harry replied, ignoring the disapproving frown the
headmaster sent his way.

“I wish you’d refrain from using profanity in the presence of other professors, Mister
Potter,” Dumbledore said to the amused teen, “If nothing else, it would stop them
complaining about needing to punish you to set an example that such behaviour is not
accepted.”

“Severus been complaining about me again, has he?” Harry asked with a raised brow, “I’ll
consider listening to him when he gives me a valid reason for missing the Imperius curse
cast on one of his students, really, that’s just silly.”

“Professor Snape has expressed his deepest apologies already to the Zabinis for letting
such an incident go unnoticed, you needn’t hold a grudge against the man for something
that largely didn’t concern you,” Dumbledore chided Harry, “managing the students in the
Slytherin house is difficult enough a task for Severus without adding on an incident as
horrendous as the one we all had to endure with young Stephanie.”

“How did the Zabinis take that apology, I wonder?” Harry curiously asked, “I don’t imagine
they’d be sending a Christmas card to Professor Snape anytime soon, if you get what I mean?”

“While what happened to the Zabinis was a tragic incident,” Dumbledore conceded,
purposefully dancing around the issue of how Antonio Zabini had decked Snape the
second he saw the man “that does not make Severus’ apology any less sincere . . .”

“That’s really fascinating and all,” Harry said, “but I came to talk to you about other issues.”

“Yes, an imposter,” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples, “I have
an idea of whom you speak of, but tell me what you have discovered regardless, it may
help to prove my suspicions.”

“Alastor Moody,” Harry immediately said, only slightly surprised that the headmaster
didn’t seem all too shocked, they are old friends, after all, “Just a few little things that the
real Alastor Moody would never do that separately, don’t mean much, but when you add
them all together, one can’t help but get suspicious . . . add Longbottom’s name getting
into the Goblet of Fire into the mix, and you can’t be all that surprised . . .”

“What ‘little things’ do you speak of?” Harry seemed to now have Dumbledore’s full attention.

“The man hasn’t complained about me referring to him as Alastor ever since he saw
Nymphadora’s reaction to me referring to her as such,” Harry said, leaning back in his
chair, “something about if I was able to get away with calling her that, he wasn’t sure if
he’d want to try getting me to stop calling him ‘Alastor’, it became a non-issue
eventually,” Dumbledore smirked at that.

“Yes, Alastor would most likely prefer his name than ‘Mad-eye’ these days,” the
headmaster said with a rueful shake of his head, “he often complains how the name doesn’t
instil fear in the younger generation these days like it used to during Lord Voldemort’s first
reign.”

“There’s that,” Harry nodded, “and the fact that Septima complained to me only today
about how he has been bad mouthing Nymphadora around the school,” Harry tilted his
head curiously, “now either Nymphadora spiked his flask again – which I doubt, merely
because Alastor would just curse himself for falling for that again – or our imposter did a
poor job at assessing Alastor’s feelings towards his most recent protégé apprentice.”

“I was not privy to the depth of the relationship between the two,” Dumbledore
conceded, “However, if his attitude towards his protégés in the past is any indication, I,
too, don’t believe our imposter has done his or her homework regarding my old friend.”

“So you agree,” Harry mused, “and I haven’t even gotten to my most convincing
argument yet, which is his sudden profound dislike for my father, and his sudden branding
him a coward and a poor duellist.”

“He said that about James?” Dumbledore asked with a troubled frown, “that is most
suspicious, most suspicious indeed.”

“Especially considering Alastor would often use my father as a measuring stick whenever
he’d tutor Nymphadora,” Harry dryly said, “she wasn’t too pleased with that, let me tell you.”

“Not many would be pleased with being compared to James Potter,” Dumbledore
thoughtfully added, “not many could boast the fact of being as skilled as your father was,
I assure you.”

“Which is why I think our imposter is not only a Death Eater,” Harry continued, “but one
who had a grudge against my father. This imposter seems to take a perverse pleasure in
trying to smear my father’s name in front of the class as often as possible.”

“Does that bother you?” Dumbledore asked gently, straying off the issue slightly, “I know
it would bother me if I were forced to listen to someone besmirch my father’s name during
classes, especially if it is as regularly as you portray it to be.”

“Not really,” Harry shrugged, “It just means that, whoever this imposter is, my father
must have embarrassed him or her really badly. The more they insult him, the funnier it is,
to be honest.”

“Ah yes,” Dumbledore said with an amused twinkle, “Amusement is such a useful tool in
dealing with our enemies. Fear, anger, hate, they know how to respond to these things,
but they laughter is a reaction they find it hard to comprehend more often than not.”

“Right,” Harry rolled his eyes, “also, unless Alastor has become an alcoholic – which
wouldn’t too far a stretch of the imagination, seeing as he’s been forced to teach at a
school,” Dumbledore didn’t seem amused by that one, “he’s also taken a liking to regularly
drinking out of the flask of his. I can’t be certain, but I think it’s a fair assumption that
he’d take a healthy swig every hour or so . . .”

“You assume it to be Polyjuice?” Dumbledore asked with a frown, “Severus has reported
incidents where his ingredients cabinet has been looted on more than one occasion, the
ingredients reported missing do fir the profile. I am sure he’ll be pleased to know that
young Neville was not the one behind the theft of his precious ingredients.”

The two sat in silence, as Dumbledore seemed to be processing the information brought
to him by the teen sitting before him.

“If I may I ask?” receiving a curt nod from Harry, Dumbledore continued, “why is it you
felt a need to report your findings to me? I was under the assumption that our
relationship, if one between us exists at all, was rather strained after your short stay in
Azkaban.”

Harry shrugged, “I pissed off the wrong people, that wasn’t your fault. They were going
to get revenge regardless of what you wanted, I thought it better to only let it happen
under my terms, not theirs.”

“No amount of money is worth being forced to endure the horrors of such a place,”
Dumbledore said sadly, “especially for one as young as yourself.”

“I guess,” Harry shrugged, not willing to discuss how royally that plan exploded in his face
with present company, “Why I chose to tell you though? Call it curiosity.”

Dumbledore observed him over his half-moon glasses briefly before allowing a small smile
to grace his features, “You wish to know the identity of the one who still harbours a
grudge for your father, and why.”

“You’re thinking too much into it,” Harry deadpanned, “it’s no coincidence that the imposter
is here during this time, and that Neville’s name got called out of the Goblet. The imposter
wants Neville in the tournament, and he or she is going to be screwing with it so that
either Neville dies, or wins,” Harry assumed, “Better to let the imposter carry out his
plans under our scrutiny than let him retreat, and devise a new plan we could be unlucky
enough to not be aware of.”

“That is very wise of you,” Dumbledore said in approval, “and you avoided my original
question with remarkable skill, and for that I applaud you Mister Potter,” Dumbledore said
with a merry twinkle in his eye, “unfortunately for you, I have been in the practise of
using half-truths and twisting words to my advantage for many years, you will have to do
better than that to fool me.”

Dumbledore actually didn’t seem like such a bad guy, Harry thought with amusement as he
replied “Peter Pettigrew escaped from right under our noses last year. I’m sure that if this
imposter is a Death Eater, not only will good old Wormtail be involved somehow, he may
very well be the imposter himself.”
Dumbledore frowned at him over his half-moon spectacles, “There is no revenge so
complete as forgiveness.”

“I’ll forgive Wormtail after he’s dead,” Harry tilted his head curiously at Dumbledore,
“anything I would do to him would be infinitely kinder than whatever Sirius or Remus would
do to him anyway, so I don’t know why you’re so bothered.”

“This is a discussion for another day,” Dumbledore said in a calm voice, “Tell me, what do
you think we should do with the information we have?”

“You’re letting me decide?” Harry asked incredulously, “and why, pray tell, would you do
such a thing?”

“While you and I may be privy to there possibly being an imposter in the school, others
are not as fortunate,” the wise headmaster said, “There are too many unknowns in this
equation. There are not many wizards in Britain who could boast about having gotten the
better of Alastor Moody; whoever is able to boast such a thing must not be
underestimated. We must assume that, until we have proof otherwise, that this imposter
has ways in which to learn if they have been discovered.”

“You’re worried about Karkaroff,” Harry surmised, as Dumbledore nodded curtly.

“Fear is a powerful motivator. Igor may have changed his ways, or he may not have, we
cannot be sure,” he said morosely, “but were his old master to return to power, or be
close to doing so, it would not be hard to manipulate him into doing anything they wished
him to do.”

“So what do you want me to do about it?” Harry asked the headmaster again, “I’m just a
student, after all. You’re the headmaster here, I’m sure you have ways in which to
monitor Moody.”

“I have, but while the evidence seems compelling, I’m afraid it isn’t enough to warrant
anything further than suspicion on my part,” Dumbledore said regretfully, “I have
imparted on Alastor some information that no one else is privy to last week, thought he
does not know this. I can be certain of the existence of an imposter if the man acts
unfavourably with that information at his disposal.”

“You suspected him too then?” Harry asked curiously, “for how long?”

“Give me some credit, Mister Potter,” Dumbledore chided amusedly with a twinkle in his
eye, “As you no doubt have surmised, I have known the man for a very long time. We
have worked together intimately on several occasions, one does not do such a thing
without getting to know the person they are working with just as intimately.”

“Fair enough,” Harry shrugged, “though I very much doubt this imposter would fall for such
a trick. He may not have you fooled just yet, but he has everyone else fooled.”

“Regretfully, I must agree with you,” Dumbledore said with a wary sigh, “So, another way
in which to glean the information we desire would be prudent, if you have any suggestions?”

“I still don’t buy the fact that you’re trusting someone like me with a delicate situation such
as this,” Harry deadpanned, “you have to have a valid reason.”

“Do not sell yourself short, Mister Potter,” Dumbledore said with a smile, “you are a very
brilliant young man, and I value your opinion, despite how crude and unnecessary it
often may be.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush,” Harry dryly responded, “I guess you could force him to
make a mistake, make him slip up in a way that would almost give away his identity to
anyone who was already suspicious of him . . .”

“That list only consists of the two of us, as far as I am aware,” Dumbledore agreed, “go on.”

Harry stared into the fireplace in silence as he ran through the entire situation in his mind,
in an effort to find a solution to this annoying little problem. Finally, after only two minutes
of silence and Dumbledore observing him curiously, the teen spoke up.

“What kind of a leader is Riddle?” Harry suddenly asked the surprised headmaster, who
was unaware that the boy knew of the Dark Lord’s origins, “I mean, how does he treat
his Death Eaters? How does he respond to failure? How does he respond to success?”

“Tom does not take to failure very well,” Dumbledore said after a moment’s pause, “in
fact, he becomes quite . . . angered . . . when such a thing occurs.”

“Has your resident Death Eater been zapped by a few too many Cruciatus curses in his
time, then?” Harry asked unsympathetically, “I’d love a Pensieve memory, maybe I can
ask Riddle one day?”

“That is not funny, Mister Potter,” Dumbledore said in a warning tone, but Harry paid him
no mind.

“Make this imposter think he’s failing his mission,” Harry shrugged, “If Riddle becomes as
violent as you say he does when his little minions fail, I’m sure you’ll notice ‘Moody’
become increasingly jumpy and agitated.”

“If they were to be put in such a state,” Dumbledore picked up on Harry’s idea, “they’d
also be more likely to make a mistake, which can only be beneficial to us until we discover
what it is exactly, that they want.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry nodded, “you know how you’re going to do that? You’ve had a little
bit more experience with fighting against these guys, I imagine,” he added sarcastically.

“I know how, yes,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye that Harry didn’t like very
well, “but it is not I, who will be doing anything.”

Why did he even bother? Harry mused tiredly, as Dumbledore kept looking at him with
that damn twinkling eye.

Stephanie had known Fleur for a few years now, being her best friend for most of that
time, and she could honestly say that she’d never seen the part-Veela like this before.
The situation between Fleur and Harry was quickly becoming ridiculous, and the annoying
thing was, Harry had no idea that there was even a situation.

For as long as Stephanie could remember, and for as long Fleur has been dating on and
off, the girl would never bother to ask a boy on a date. Why bother? Whenever they’d
be allowed into the local town for breaks at Beauxbatons, the guys would line up around
the corner just to say a few words to her, Fleur had never needed to make any conscious
effort on her part.

This is how things would usually run with Fleur in regards to boys. They’d approach her,
strike up a conversation about the first thing they could think about, and if Fleur was
anything more than completely bored by them, she’d let them buy her a meal, or a drink.
If the guy was really lucky, Fleur would let them do it again on another occasion, and
maybe even let them kiss her, but nothing really more in depth than that. These
relationships never lasted long though, the boys trying so hard to date her always
showing their true colours sooner or later and ending any chance they could have for
anything serious.

To see Fleur actually miserable because of a boy, or simply pining after one rather than
beating them away with a stick was definitely something new for Stephanie.

Lately, Fleur would often zone out in the middle of classes, meals and conversations and
go off into her own little world. Not only did it cause her to get in trouble with the
Professors for not paying attention in class, but her grades were suffering also as she
suddenly found it very hard to focus on anything.

Stephanie finally understood how Fleur must have felt being a spectator to the whole
episode between her and Archie had gotten together. It was ridiculously frustrating and
annoying, just watching her best friend continue to wallow in her misery, especially when
it seemed the solution to all her problems was so simple.

“Look, Fleur, this has got to stop,” Stephanie finally snapped, deciding to do something
about this rather than get frustrated.

“What are you talking about?” the French girl inquired as her best friend grabbed her
attention, “You’re already over Archie?”

“No!” Stephanie huffed angrily, “I mean your moping around! It has to stop. If you really
like Harry so much, you’ve got to go and tell him or he’ll never know something’s up!”

Fleur seemed to get her back up at the insinuation that her problems resolved around the
green-eyed teen, “I ‘ave not been thinking about ‘Arry!” Fleur snapped, “it may surprise
you, but finding out zat you could die in a month’s time to a Chimera can be quite ze buzz kill!”

“You and I both know that it isn’t the Chimera you’re moping around about!” Stephanie
snapped as she dragged her friend by a nearby statue, “look, I’m not telling you what to
do, nor am I judging you, I’m just concerned. It’s obvious that you like Harry, you’ve
already admitted as much, I just want you to go and confront him about it.”

Giving up on denying it anymore, Fleur threw her hands up in frustration, “It is not zat
simple!” Fleur angrily replied, “Ze boy is either completely uninterested in ‘aving a
relationship, or completely uninterested in me, zere is nothing I can do!”

“Spend some time with him then!” Stephanie suggested, “alone, without Archie or me
around. Go on those runs with him he takes so often, try and track him down whenever
he disappears or something. Get some alone time with him and try to get to know him . . .”

“We do zat often,” Fleur sighed, “Ze ball for instance, we talked all evening while we
were dancing!”

“Did you really talk?” Stephanie asked sceptically, “or did you just make jokes and laugh at
other people expense?”

“Well . . .” Fleur gave a small smile for the first time in a few days, “It was more of ze
latter, but it was nice regardless.”

“I’m sure it was,” Stephanie returned her friend’s smile, “but we both know that Harry isn’t
like other boys. He’s definitely not as easily impressed as they are, and he’s a lot more
complicated than you seem to think.”

Fleur sighed tiredly and scratched her arm nervously, “Sometimes I think ‘e looks at me
like some stupid little girl, you know?” she asked sadly, “like ‘e knows exactly what I am
going through, but ‘e does not care, because ‘e is not interested.”

“Look, that’s just ridiculous,” Stephanie reassured her friend, “we both know he’s
attracted to you physically, shit, there isn’t a boy on the planet who wouldn’t be!”

“Archie?” Fleur remarked with a grin.

“Well, Archie’s special,” Stephanie said imperiously, before the two collapsed into a fit of
laughter, “okay, that sounded wrong, but you know what I mean.”

“I envy you two,” Fleur said suddenly, “what you two ‘ave, it seems so wonderful!”

“It is,” Stephanie grinned happily, “which is why you should go and track Harry down as
soon as possible, force him to notice you on your terms, and maybe have a few honest
conversations with him. Ones that don’t involve crude jokes or insults, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Fleur grinned at her friend, “that sounds like a lord of ‘ard work.”

“Yes, you are rather insufferable,” Stephanie snorted in amusement, “look, let’s just go to
class and we can talk more about this later, but are we at least agreed on the fact that
you are now head over heels for Harry Potter?”

“It sounds so depressing when you put it like that,” Fleur said weakly, but she definitely
did not deny it.

“Oh shut up, will you?” Stephanie said jovially as she linked her arm with Fleur’s, “besides,
Harry takes himself far too seriously most of the time – he needs someone like you in his life.”

Fleur allowed her friend to drag her off to their next class; a small smile tugging at her lips
as the two practically skipped through the Hogwarts corridors.

“This is hopeless!” Neville cried, wincing as Madame Pince glared harshly at him for raising
his voice in her library.

“You can’t stop trying because it’s become difficult,” Hermione said curtly, “I’ll not have you
kill yourself out there because you were too lazy to read a couple of books!” she
whispered at the ‘Boy-who-lived’ harshly.

“I bet Cedric doesn’t have to put up with this,” Neville said miserably, flipping through the
pages of the large tome before him carelessly, “it must be nice to have Harry freaking
Potter as an advisor.”
“Potter,” Ron snarled harshly, “I knew that guy was no good the second I laid eyes on him!”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione almost yelled in frustration, her good standing
with the librarian the only thing keeping her from getting kicked out, “it was only the
beginning of the term that you couldn’t even form words when he was in your presence.
You worshipped him!”

“That was before Hermione,” Neville lectured, as if she was some retarded child,
“everything’s different now.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, “stupid prat takes all the girls for himself and leaves us ‘regular’ folk
with absolutely nothing!”

“Oh my goodness! Are you still moping about the whole Fleur Delacour thing?” Hermione
asked in exasperation, “I don’t see what the big deal is, what’s so special about her?”

Ron and Neville looked at each other in shock before turning the look onto Hermione, “You
can’t be serious,” Ron said incredulously, “do you purposefully look away when she’s in a
room or something? How can you not understand what’s so special about her?”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione snapped irritably, “You two are both being
completely illogical!”

“She’s a Veela!” Neville whispered loudly, as if such a thing were the most important fact
in the world, “that means everything!”

“That means nothing!” Hermione snapped in irritation, “she’s just a regular girl, like the
rest of us. There’s nothing special about her.”

“Now who’s being illogical?” Ron asked Hermione with a sly smile, “I think someone’s
jealous. How does Vicky feel about this?”

“Oh, don’t be stupid, I am not jealous!” Hermione snapped before realising what Ron had
said, “And his name is Viktor, and I’ll have you know, at least he knows how to treat a girl,
unlike some buffoons I know!”

Hermione slammed her current book shut and was about to storm out of the Library until
Neville grabbed a hold of her hand, “Look, ‘Mione, we didn’t mean it,” Neville said
sincerely, “we’re sorry okay? Times are just a little stressful right now, we didn’t mean to
sound mean.”

Hermione thinned her lips before sending an impatient look towards Ron. Neville elbowed
the boy under the table so he could get the message.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled under his breath, “still doesn’t mean Potter isn’t a no-good prat
. . .” he grumbled angrily.

“Whatever,” Neville grinned at his best friends, “Look, I’m done with this book. I’m going
to go look for another one – try not to kill each other while I’m gone?”

His friends glared at him heatedly, but he just ignored them with a happy smile before
returning the book he had finished reading on exotic Potions to one of the many aisles of
the Hogwarts library. So immersed was he in searching for another useful tome that he
did not hear the person in the shadows approach him stealthily and stun him silently
before everything went black.

“Did you hear?” a worried second year asked her friends, “I heard Neville Longbottom
gone missing; some say he may be dead!”

“That’s horrible!” one of her friends, a Gryffindor, replied, “who could have done it, and
why would someone want to hurt the ‘Boy-who-lived’?”

“Don’t be stupid,” one of the boys in the group said snobbishly, “It’s obvious that
someone wanted him out of the picture for the Triwizard Tournament. I bet it was Krum,
probably thought he posed too much of a threat, so they took him out!”

“I don’t believe it!” the second girl spoke up again, “Headmaster Dumbledore just wouldn’t
let something like that happen!”

“There’s nothing much he could do about it,” the snobbish boy said with a shrug, “You
know what they say about Durmstrang, they’re all evil and practise dark magic,” he said in
a loud whisper, “what can anyone do against foul magic like that?”

“Neville Longbottom defeated You-know-who!” the first girl yelled in Neville’s defence, “I
doubt some scumbag from Durmstrang could defeat Neville Longbottom when
He-who-must-not-be-named couldn’t!”

“What’s going on here?” Moody came limping into the corridor the group of second years
were blocking and growled angrily, “Why aren’t you all in class?”

“Haven’t you heard, Professor?” one of the girls asked innocently, “classes have been
cancelled. They said it was because a student has gone missing, but everyone thinks he
could be dead!”

“What are you going on about?” Moody asked incredulously, “I heard no such thing!”

“Professor McGonagall just told us,” A quiet boy at the back of the group spoke up, “we
just found out, but there are rumours flying around already of what happened to Longbottom.”

Moody did a double-take when he heard the name, “what did you just say, laddie?”

“He said that Longbottom was the one supposedly kidnapped,” the snobbish boy clarified
to the shocked professor, “some say he was killed by the Durmstrang competition
though, because they thought he posed too much of a threat in the Triwizard Tournament!”

The children watched in shock as the crippled ex-Auror limped off hurriedly towards
Dumbledore’s office at incredibly speeds, not even waiting around to hear the rest of their
theories.

“Albus, what the bleeding hell is going on?” Moody roared as he barged into the
headmaster’s office. The old man was standing by the fireplace with a grave look on his
face as he entered the office.

“If you are referring to young mister Longbottom,” Dumbledore began, turning to his old
friend with a wary face, “it would seem that someone has kidnapped him, or worse, killed
him from right under our noses. It is as we feared, Lord Voldemort must be on the move.”
“That’s not possible!” Moody roared, before correcting himself quickly, “You and I both
know that Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain, there’s just no way the Dark Lord could
get his spies in here to abduct the boy from right under our noses like this! He must be
playing some sort of joke on us! Maybe he’s hiding with that cloak of his!”

“Alas, I have already considered such a possibility,” Dumbledore assured his old friend,
“Young Neville disappeared from the middle of the library, during the day, mere feet
away from miss Granger and mister Weasley. Mister Weasley also informs us that Neville’s
cloak is still in the boy’s trunk.”

“There has to be an explanation for this, there’s no way that the boy could have been
kidnapped, or hurt,” Moody roared angrily, a wild look in his eyes, “Search the castle, he
has to be somewhere!”

“Calm down, my friend,” Dumbledore said in a soothing, yet commanding voice, “you are
helping no one by being angry.”

“You think I’m angry? You have no idea the meaning of the word, and you’ll see what I
mean if that boy isn’t found you old . . .” Moody collapsed into a coughing fit as the tone
of his voice hitched towards the end of his speech. He seemed to collect himself and take
a swig of his flask to right himself.

“Are you alright, old friend?” Dumbledore asked with a frown, “perhaps a lemon drop will
ease your throat?”

“I don’t want a fucking Lemon Drop!” Moody roared, “I want you to find that boy, and I
want you to find him yesterday . . .” their heated, one-sided conversation was
interrupted when a relieved looking McGonagall burst through the door, gave Moody one
queer look, before turning to Dumbledore.

“We found him, he was unharmed and dumped in the girl’s bathroom on the second floor,”
she informed the headmaster with elation, “someone dumped him on one of the toilet
seats and put his hand down his pants while the poor boy was unconscious, it is clear
that whoever did this doesn’t think much of Mister Longbottom.”

Dumbledore hid the small annoyed twitch in his eye well, especially since not even Moody
picked up on it with his magical eye, “This is good news,” he said with a jovial tone,
“Alastor, perhaps you should go tend to your champion while I inform Augusta that her
grandson is fine and relatively unharmed.”

Both professors nodded, Moody hesitating slightly, before they both left the headmaster
to his own devices. The room lapsed into silence as Dumbledore made no move to contact
the Longbottom matriarch like he said he would.

Suddenly, a black cat with green eyes stalked out from underneath Dumbledore’s desk
and transformed into a very familiar green-eyed, spectacled teen.

“Did you really have to leave him in such a compromising position?” Dumbledore asked
with an annoyed frown.

“No,” Harry answered, “but I believe we know all that we need to know.”

“Alas,” Dumbledore said gravely, “it would seem that we have irrefutable proof that an
imposter has kidnapped Alastor Moody and taken his place on my staff, it would also
seem, though I am not sure if this is a blessing or not, that they do not wish to kill the
boy,” he popped a small yellow confectionary into his mouth before continuing, “Alastor
would have never lost his temper in a situation as grave as the one we were just
presented with.”

“Neville’s health definitely seemed to be Moody’s main concern,” Harry agreed, “What
are you going to do now?”

“I will wait, and observe,” Dumbledore said with a sigh, “there is not much more I can do,
less I scare off our enemy and give them a chance to regroup, and come up with
another, potentially more dangerous, plan.”

Harry observed the headmaster curiously for a few moments before leaving through the
door silently, returning back to his cat form in case someone spotted him leaving the office.

“We are in for a troubling year, my friend,” Dumbledore said to his phoenix warily. Fawkes
trilled sadly to his bonded, letting him know that he too agreed with the headmaster.

“There you are,” Archie said in a delighted tone, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“You mustn’t have been looking to hard,” Harry said dryly, “I’ve been in here for a few
hours now.”

Archie looked around their dorm room with a blank expression before chuckling nervously,
“Heh, yeah, anyway, there’s something I wanna show you.”

Harry, who was lazing around on his bed and reading a book, moved the small tome out of
his face to get a good look at Archie, “You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t pull off the ‘smock’ look like I can,” Archie said with an
infectious grin. The boy’s face was covered in what looked like soot, while his face was
covered with protective eyewear and his body and hands in dragon hide protective gear.

“You’ve figured me out,” Harry said dryly, looking at the two vials in Archie’s hands, each
of them a different colour, “what’ve you got there? A new addition to MBMC’s inventory?”

“Not quite,” Archie said with a grin, as he sat down on his desk and cleared it before
motioning Harry over, “I was just working on that werewolf thing when I accidently
discovered something.”

“Werewolf thing?” Harry asked humorously as he approached his friend to see what he
wanted to show him, “so, what’s so important that would actually make you leave
Stephanie’s side for more than three seconds and run around the school looking like a
complete idiot for?”

“Alright, watch this,” Archie said with excitement, “You see this?” Archie swirled the vial of
purple liquid in his left hand, “absolutely harmless on its own,” he proved his statement by
putting a drop on the desk and slamming a book onto it, with no effect whatsoever.

“What’s amazing,” Harry deadpanned, “you’ve finally done it. You’ve created something
as useless as you are . . .”

“Ye have little faith,” Archie grinned as he carefully held out the other vial, filled with
orange watery liquid, and dipped the tip of the quill in there so only the smallest drop was
extracted and placed at the tip of the writing tool, “you might want to stand back.”

Warily, knowing that anything was possible with Archie when it came to Potions, Harry
stood behind his friend and watched the show.

As carefully as humanly possible, Archie scraped up some of the first liquid form the table
with the quill, before raising it up into the air and before his face almost reverently.

“Now, both potions are mixed together on the tip of this quill,” Archie whispered softly,
yet the excitement was easily discerned in his voice, “watch this, take another step back . . .”

Before Harry could comply, Archie pelted the quill at the thick stone wall on the opposite
side of the room as hard as he could.

The second the tip of the quill made contact with the wall, an explosion as loud as a
shotgun fire erupted form the point of impact as a small cloud of dust obscured their
view. Not having expected the sudden explosive noise, Harry had been temporarily
deafened, as a small ringing was the only thing he could hear right now, despite the fact
that he could see Archie’s lips moving.

“ . . . On their own, both liquids are completely useless, but together,” Harry picked up
Archie saying as his hearing returned to him, “well, KABOOM!” he giggled happily, like a
toddler who just impressed his parents, after his little demonstration.

“You are a disturbed little child,” Harry said in disbelief.

“Is everything alright in there?” A voice called out from the other side of the door, much
to both the boys’ amusement.

“Just one of Archades’ experiments,” Harry called out, as if it were supposed to explain
everything . . .

“Oh, okay.”

. . . fortunately, it did.

“You can’t honestly tell me that that wasn’t the coolest thing ever!” Archie grinned, “and,
I found it by accident! I mean, I already knew of many combinations of ingredients and
potions that could have similar effects, but nothing of this magnitude!”

“Okay, so that may have been pretty cool,” Harry relented, “is that all you wanted? I’m
actually kind of tired . . .”

“No, actually,” Archie smile dropped as he leaned back in his desk chair and observed his
friend curiously, “If I were a girl, or smarter in general, I’d be all subtle about this – but
seeing as I’m clearly neither of the two . . .”

“Clearly,” Harry agreed with a grin, interrupting his friend briefly.

“I’m just going to come out and say it,” Archie shrugged, “You do know, for some strange
fucking reason that I cannot comprehend, that Fleur likes you,” seeing Harry’s raised
brow and that he was about to speak, Archie raised his hand to stall his protests, “I don’t
mean the kind of like your fan girls have for you, I mean the kind where, she knows what
kind of fucked up asshole you are, but she doesn’t care, and genuinely likes you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” Harry rolled his eyes, though Archie
supposed that the fact that he didn’t drop the subject entirely was a bonus.

“An exclamation of surprise would probably be appropriate,” Archie deadpanned.

“Right,” Harry did his best to mimic a surprised face, much to Archie’s amusement, “is this goo

“Perfect,” Archie grinned, “look Harry, I don’t know who you’re trying to fool, but even I
can tell that you think Fleur’s attractive, at least,” he sighed in exasperation, “I’m not
asking you to marry her, or anything, just don’t snap at her, or bite her head off if she
approaches you one day and just wants to talk, or something.”

“Why the sudden interest in Fleur’s love life?” Harry inquired, neither confirming or denying
his friend the knowledge of whether he’d do as requested, “it doesn’t seem like you.”

“Mate, believe it or not, but I think Fleur’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a long
time,” Archie sighed, “I like to think we’re friends you know, hell, best friends. But I
haven’t seen you smile so much in a long time since Fleur and Stephanie came into the
picture, granted, it may be those evil little grins you share with her when joking around, but
it’s something, right?”

“Right,” Harry replied dryly as he retook his position on the bed, “if Fleur is really as
interested as you say, she would have done something about it. Fleur’s the kind of girl
that knows what she wants, and goes and gets it when she wants it.”

“Oh Harry, my friend,” Archie sighed wistfully, “so young, so naïve, was I ever this
stupid?” he waved Harry off before he could answer, “don’t answer that, of course I was .
. . these things just become clearer once you’re in a relationship, I think.”

“Whatever,” Harry sighed, “I’m going to bed. If you wake me up with one of those
explosions, I’m sending Gabrielle after you.”

Archie ignored the cold shiver that run down his spine at the mention of the little blonde
terror, watching his friend slowly drift into the land of dreams with a thoughtful look on his face.

Author’s Note:

Uchiha Itachi is my hero.

Unbetad, as usual, in the interest of getting this fucking chapter out as soon as possible.
Just so you know, I’m never promising a release date for another chapter again, you’ll
get them when you get them – it could be one day, it could be six months, but if I ever
decide to abandon any of my stories (which I very much doubt with my two current ones),
I’ll tell you in both my profile, and my story summary.

Uchiha Itachi is my hero.

Last chapter was fairly huge with two hundred and fifty some reviews and thirty five
thousand hits, keep ‘em coming I guess, and PLEASE don’t post stupid reviews like ‘good
stuff’ or ‘update soon’. I’ll seriously just ban you from reviewing again if you do, and I
don’t want to do that. If you like it, say why, if you don’t, also say why. It inspires me to
update quicker.
Uchiha Itachi is my hero.
The END