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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Divination, Dimwits, Drugs, and Detention

[The Day after Christmas Day 1991 (Boxing Day Morning)]

Curtis Lawless glared at the silent mobile phone on his desk as his number two filled him in on their current, rather low, drug stock levels. The pounding and throbbing of last night's Christmas drunken revelry, which had echoed up through the Manchester nightclub's walls and floors, had slowly given way to the simple pounding and throbbing of a mild hangover, and it was interfering with his ability to be properly annoyed.

"So you're saying," Curtis started in a grumble, continuing to try and will the mobile phone back to life with just the power of his toxin filled mind, "That because we mis…mis… er… got wrong the amount we needed to have — because of Christmas — that we're now going to run out in just a few weeks?"

"Yes, boss," his number two rumbled, standing like a mountain with his hands in front of him, fingering a large gold ring.

"And now we can do nothing but wait for Mister posh-boy Malfoy to call and hope he's got something for us?"

"Yes, Boss."

Curtis groaned. The drug runner who called himself Malfoy had said Curtis wouldn't be able to get a hold of him using this phone — That he'd be the one to call Curtis, but it still pissed him off when he'd tried to call and got the 'this number is unreachable' response.

His number two made a small grunt. "He's not let us down yet."

"No, he hasn't, but I'm not looking forward to when he does. I've no idea who we can get who'll do us as low as he does."

"Prices are coming down all over the place."

"Not as fast as he is." Curtis continued to glare at the inert mobile phone. Malfoy had said a while back that he'd call some time over Christmas or early in the new year. Hopefully the man would keep his word again. He didn't like being so reliant on one person.

A glass of water thumped down on the table in front of him. He took it in his large fist and fumbled a half swallow.

Suddenly, a massive bang from downstairs caused the glass to shatter in his grip.

"POLICE! GET DOWN!"

Curtis slowly put his face in his hands and groaned.

— DP & SW: TFoP —

[January 6th, 1992]

John Potter confidently strode down the Hogwarts Express, shaking hands with boys and smiling at girls as was his duty as the Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Leader of the children of the Light, and, if not the actual boy-who-lived, then the chosen of fate and death, at least.

The Winter Festival had gone well. He'd been the centre of attention at the Potter Christmas Party and he'd impressed all and sundry with his 'advanced' wand work and transfiguration skills. His Dad had pulled him aside not long after and given him the same 'How to charm girls and influence people' lessons that he'd received the first time around. This time, however, he'd been far more receptive, understanding exactly why charming girls mattered, beyond just the intellectual understanding of an eleven year old heir to a noble house, that is. Just why his Dad had thought giving him these lessons at age eleven was a good idea, though, was a mystery to him.

But, that didn't matter now. There were quite a few girls he wanted by his side, and one in particular who he needed to, at the very least, negotiate with, if not win back. He patted the bag that hung at his shoulder. And he had just the thing to do it with.

John walked further down the carriage, shook a few more hands, winked at one particularly cute third year girl, getting a shy smile back, opened the door to the next carriage, saw a flash wavy brown hair, widened his eyes when he saw who Hermione was talking to, and ducked into the carriage's first compartment, only to be met by the wide eyes of several second year girls. He gave them an apologetic smile and pressed his ear up against the door.

"—Don't care about that, Heir Malfoy."

"You should, Granger." Malfoy's voice dripped smugness. "You don't always have Greengrass around to protect you."

"You know what happened to the last person who attacked me."

"Yes, Slytherin duelled them, but only because Volf didn't want to go to court for assault."

John tried to mould himself to the door to hear better.

"Do you want to go to court for assault?" Hermione asked.

"Not particularly."

"Well, there you go then."

Draco's voice lowered and John had to shush the girls behind him who had started to giggle. "I bet you think you're pretty hot stuff, Granger — joining the hunt and catching Lovegood, but you are not one of us. You will never be one of us. You are a jumped up mudblood with ideas above her station. Underneath all your training and manners and princess airs, you have nothing. No ancestry, no family magic, no legacy of contribution to the wizarding world. How many spells has the House of Granger discovered? How many artefacts has it invented? How many books has it published? None."

"Not today, perhaps, but one day it will."

John heard a loud laugh.

"Bwahahaha! Oh Granger, you are too much."

The sounds of laughter travelled down the corridor and eventually faded away.

John carefully opened the door, waved at the girls, stepped though, and closed it behind him with an audible snap.

Granger whirled around causing him to raise his hands in surrender.

"Whoa there."

"Oh, it's you," she said as though a cockroach had just scuttled in front of her.

John pushed away the hurt her voice caused and gave her a winning smile. "Malfoy being an arse?"

"Yes. Not that it's any of your business, Heir Potter."

"C'mon, Hermione. What have I ever done to you to get the ice princess treatment?"

"I could not imagine. Maybe you being a presumptuous arse, Heir Potter."

John leaned on the door. "I just want to be friends. You like making friends, don't you?"

"I like making friends with people who don't strut around like the world owes them just for being born."

Ouch. He didn't think he strut around that much, and a certain amount of strutting was required of someone in his position. He smiled and shrugged. "Well, if not friends, why not acquaintances willing to make mutually beneficial trades?"

Hermione's face shifted from icy glare to caution. "What kind of trades?"

John grinned and pulled out a book from his bag. He handed it to Hermione whose eyes widened in shock.

"This is…"

"That," John said, "is a first edition copy of 'Hogwarts a History' — one of only seven in existence."

Hermione's eyes remained fixed on the book and John was sure her pupils had dilated.

He inwardly smirked. Hermione had always had a near pathological book fetish. "Do you like it?"

Hermione looked up. She couldn't have looked more guarded if she were wearing full plate armour. "What's the trade?"

"Just that you accept this as a declaration of intention gift."

"What!" Hermione squeaked.

"A declaration of intention gift. You do know what they are?"

"Of…Of course I know what they are!" Hermione's voice raised in pitch. "But why are you giving me one!"

John smirked, still leaning against the door. "Why wouldn't I? You're cute, and powerful, and the best student in our year."

"I…" she thrust the book back in his arms. "I'd need to talk to my lord."

John frowned catching the book before it fell to the floor. "Hermione, do you need to ask your lord about everything? It's your decision if you accept such a gift, no one else's."

"I need to… to ask his advice." She turned to go.

"Hermione!" John's voice rose. "Why do you defer to this guy so much? Are you afraid of him! Does he hurt you!"

Hermione stiffened and whirled around. "No! He does not hurt me! How could you even suggest such a thing!"

"Then why? What do you even know about him! Have you even seen his face?"

"I…" Hermione froze. Her very being seemed to shift. Tension drained out of her. Anger and embarrassed panic faded away. Slowly and surely, princess Hermione formed again, cool, calm, and collected.

John's stomach dropped.

"I cannot give out my lord's secrets. I'm sorry, Heir Potter."

Damn. So close.

"I will consider your gift and let you know soon." And with that, Hermione turned around again and left the carriage, heading back towards the middle of the train.

John watched her go before heading back to his own compartment, in which waited a girl who definitely hadn't rejected his declaration of intent gift.

Susan smiled somewhat shyly as he entered and played with the citrine and onyx encrusted bracelet around her wrist. "Any luck?"

John shook his head. "She clammed up as soon as I asked."

Susan frowned. "Well, Auntie could only haul her in for veritaserum if Slytherin had actually been convicted of a crime, anyway."

John sat down heavily on the bench opposite the red-haired Bones heiress. "Still, you said she would only do that if Hermione had admitted she knew who Slytherin was."

Susan nodded slowly.

John smiled. "I'm sure I'll have more chances to get her to admit it."

Susan looked down at a small notebook. "What about the polyjuice idea?"

John tapped his knee and looked out of the window. "If we can get a strand of Slytherin's hair, or nail clipping, or something, then yes — pop polyjuice, and instantly find out Slytherin's actual identity, but getting that hair…" he looked back at Susan. "…I don't have a clue."

The two sat in silence for a bit.

Susan was the first to break it. "So, Granger actually refused to say? She didn't just say no?"

"Yeah, she refused to say one way or the other."

"Doesn't that mean that she probably has seen his face?"

John considered this for a moment. "It might," he finally conceded. "Why?"

"I was just thinking that instead of polyjuicing to be Lord Slytherin, we could polyjuice as Hermione and talk to Slytherin while he's around. You never know, he might let something slip."

John chewed his cheek and thought. "Risky, but it might work. Certainly less risky than a love potion."

Susan violently shook her head and half brandished her thirteen inch Hazel and unicorn hair wand. "No love potions, John, that's just wrong."

John grinned and raised his hands. "I know, I know, I'd never do that to Hermione."

"Good."

He lowered his hands and looked out of the window again. Still though, too much was going differently not to dig deeper. Not having Hermione this time round was killing him and she was looking to be doing even better this time around, too. He spotted Susan staring at him in the window's reflection. Mmmmm…. He looked back at Susan again, who blushed under his intense gaze. Maybe…. He took a deep breath. "Say, Susie, how would you like some private duelling lessons?"

Susan's eyes widened. "Private duelling lessons?"

John nodded.

"With you?"

He nodded again.

"Mister rumoured-to-have-taken-out-his-entire-duelling-team?"

"Yes."

Susan broke out into an ear splitting grin. "Sign me up, Heir boy-who-lived."

— DP & SW: TFoP —

Daily Prophet Society Pages [6th January, 1992]

LORD SLYTHERIN BUYS SCOTTISH ISLAND

Yesterday afternoon, a spokesman for the ministry confirmed that Gairsay Island, the ninety-ninth largest island in the Scottish Orkneys, is now the newest land in Magical Britain, and the largest such land transfer from muggle to magical in over one-hundred years.

The ever masked and mysterious Lord Slytherin has been making moves towards the building of a manor for his newly resurrected house for the last six months and, with this purchase, has sent a clear message to those few who still doubt his seriousness.

In a statement sent to the Prophet, Lord Slytherin said that he, "couldn't be happier with his choice," and that, "establishing the future seat of Slytherin House so close to the Scottish Highlands, and to Hogwarts, was deliberate."

But Hogwarts to the South-West isn't the only well known magical institution close to Slytherin's new land. Azkaban Prison lies to the far North and East off the Shetland Islands, well into the North Sea, and Gairsay Island is now also the closest magical land to the formidable and forbidding fortress.

Floor plans for Slytherin Manor, filed with the ministry during the land transfer process, and marking the future Slytherin Manor as the largest magical manor in the country, include a two story circular ballroom and entertaining space. Whether 200 km between them and hell on earth will be far enough for future guests remains to be seen, but if there's one thing we know about Lord Slytherin, it's to expect the unexpected.

Just two weeks ago, Slytherin appeared for his first ever public social event, the Greengrass Winter Festival, in which he and his betrothed and vassal—Heiress Daphne Greengrass (12) and Miss Hermione Granger (12)— successfully caught Lord James Potter in his stag animagus form and Lady Pandora Lovegood in her flying squirrel animagus form, in a gruelling two hour hunt through the Greengrass Forest (more details on page 14).

Slytherin Manor is scheduled to begin construction in the next few weeks and to be finished in one year—just in time for the 1992 end of year winter festival and associated social highlights—and is slated to be costing 112,000 Galleons (£5.6 million).

BOY WHO LIVED TO FACE SQUIB TWIN IN DUELLING TOURNAMENT

John Potter, the boy who lived and defeater of He Who Must Not Be Named, is apparently taking his heroic past to heart and stepping up as Gryffindor's first year duelling spot — and he's not there just because of his name either, oh no. An informed source told the Prophet that, "John Potter is a duelling prodigy," and that rumours said he'd "defeated several members of his team, even those older than him." Even wilder rumours circulate about our favourite hero, including such unlikely tales as him defeating his entire duelling team, one after the other, all the way up to the seventh years. When asked about the likelihood of such a claim being true, long time duelling expert Mister Samuel Ratherberk (46), smiled and suggested that, "Some people may have been reading too many boy who lived adventure books."

But perhaps what's most interesting about the upcoming Hogwarts Duelling Tournament, is that John Potter will be facing off against his own twin brother, Harry, who recently returned to the wizarding world after growing up with Lady Lilly Potter's muggle relatives. The little known Harry Potter (11) was long considered a squib, but was lucky enough to receive his Hogwarts letter last July and was subsequently sorted into Slytherin House. When asked about such a match up Mister Ratherberk said, "I'm surprised anyone mistaken for a squib could get onto the Slytherin duelling team, considering the usual fierce competition for the slot and the pride the House takes in its team." What does that say about Harry's chances against his more famous brother? This reporter, for one, will be watching with interest.

The Hogwarts Duelling Tournament takes place on Saturday, April 4th in the Hogwarts Duelling Arena and is watched by many of the students, faculty, parents, interested members of the public, and scouts from the professional duelling circuit.

Dumbledore lowered and folded the paper and watched his many students file into the great hall for the welcome back feast from where he sat at in the middle of the head table.

So, Slytherin was starting to build his own stronghold only a few hundred kilometres from Hogwarts. That was a situation that would require careful observation. Luckily, he knew a few people who could be counted on for that task. His opinions on Slytherin kept yo-yoing back and forth and he just could not seem to pin down what he thought of the man. Sometimes Slytherin seemed to be just another politician, albeit one who refused to show his face, and other times he seemed to be… something else… something much, much worse — and not knowing which was maddening.

The man tortured those who crossed those he protected, as shown by his treatment of young Volf. He happily used those who were most vulnerable, as shown by his vassaling the Grangers and his buying and enforcing the horribly immoral debt of a muggleborn prostitute. And he was happy to ruthlessly manipulate events for his own benefit, as shown by his (and it was almost certainly his) strangling of the entire British market of a specific medicinal herb, fresh mandrake, just to keep Severus out of commission for whatever unknown machination he was playing. Albus had gone so far as to send an agent of his own out to track down an independent supplier of the herb and smuggle some into the country. Hopefully that would arrive soon.

However, the most troublesome thing Slytherin had done was ban the Hogwarts house elves from spying on students — a masterfully played move, making use of all three top families of the Dark, Gray, and Light, managing, however briefly, to unite them all against him.

Right now, Dumbledore needed information on a certain Harry Potter, and not having the elves available was annoying. The ghosts refused to spy for him, and the paintings were only of limited usefulness. It was ironic that Slytherin had unknowingly deprived him of his best tool to ensure that Harry Potter did not get any closer to the masked Lord in question.

Dumbledore frowned as the final students filed in and he saw the true boy who lived laughing and chatting right in the middle of the Gray faction at the far end of the Slytherin table. He couldn't allow that to continue. It was far too dangerous. He picked up his goblet and swirled the liquid inside. Maybe it was time for him to take a more hands on approach and see what was going on for himself.

— DP & SW: TFoP —

Later that night, after the welcome back feast had finished and the students herded back to their common rooms, Daphne Greengrass, the ice princess of the Gray, sat upright against her four poster bed's headboard with her knees to her chest, hugging the massive fluffy snake Harry had given her at the Winter Festival. The rest of the dormitory had long ago turned in, but she was still fully dressed in her expensive school robes.

"Tempus," she whispered, wand held in her off hand.

10:58

She squeezed the toy snake a little tighter.

"Tempus."

10:58

"Tempus."

10:59

After moving Angelystor with the help of the Black Heiress, Harry had gone back to those muggles of his. Daphne hadn't seen him until the train ride back, and while they had talked on the train and during the feast, it had been the polite back and forth of two political agents, each playing carefully choreographed roles, rather than the relaxed peacefulness she liked to enjoy with her future lord and best male friend.

"Tempus."

10:59

"Tempus."

10:59

"Tempus."

11:00

Daphne's eyes lit up. She quietly untangled herself from her fluffy snake, slipped to the edge of the bed, and drew back the curtains.

Hermione's head poked through the gap between her own curtains and the two exchanged an excited nod, although she thought she also detected a hint of anxiety from her friend.

They tiptoed down to a quiet and empty common room and Daphne gave a little squeak when a hand reached out of nowhere and tugged at her robes. A parting opened in the world and Harry quickly motioned her and Hermione under his invisibility cloak, which they both quickly scuttled under.

Harry held a finger to his lips and motioned them to the common room door, through the castle, across the ground, and up to the whomping willow. Harry cast a quick spell at the tree and it's threatening trembling ceased. He then led them both down into a secret passageway.

Now freed from the cloak, Hermione tapped her on the shoulder, caught her eye, and motioned to ask her if she could move aside so that Hermione, now biting her bottom lip, could get in front of her.

Daphne nodded and moved to let her friend walk just behind Harry.

"Um, Harry?" Hermione sounded hesitant — worried even.

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry continued leading them down the dark corridor.

"This morning, on the train…" She trailed off.

"Yes?"

"… Your brother offered me a declaration of intent gift."

Daphne couldn't stop herself from letting out a small gasp.

"Turn it down." Harry's voice was flat and expressionless and as uncompromising as an iron bar.

Daphne saw Hermione's shoulders visibly relax and her voice, when it next spoke, was more cheerful then she'd heard all day. "Yes, Harry."

They walked in silence for a few more moments.

"Just out of curiosity," Harry started, "what was the gift?"

"A first edition copy of Hogwarts a History."

"Mmmm." Daphne could hear the smile in Harry's voice. "Then I will have make sure your gift is suitably better, won't I?"

"My gift?" Hermione squeaked.

"For your birthday."

"Oh, right." Hermione's voice calmed down again, but Daphne was sure she heard a hint of disappointment laced into the forced nonchalance and relief.

Daphne smirked and shook her head — and Hermione had the temerity to tease her about the fluffy snake.

After several more minutes, Harry stopped them. "We're almost there. Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Remember this — The Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin's divination classroom is in the top floor of the shrieking shack."

Hermione nodded.

Daphne grinned. She already knew the new fidelius secret from when Harry had set it up just a few weeks ago.

A minute later, they arrived at the shrieking shack's top floor and were met by an incredibly bubbly pregnant ghost.

"Harry! You're here! And you've brought another friend."

Harry smiled and held Hermione's hand as though they were at a formal ball, climbing up the rickety stairs. "Angelystor, may I present Miss Hermione Granger, Vassal of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin and my personal close, close friend."

Hermione smiled and curtseyed, Angelystor clapped happily, and everyone exchanged greetings, happy to be finally getting to where they'd spent so much time and effort working towards.

Angelystor floated over to where Harry had set up some desks and chairs in mock imitation of a classroom. Dust tickled Daphne's nose. By the window, the tiny tree cutting from the Llangernyw yew to which Alexandra Black had bound Angelystor sat in its plant pot.

Daphne took one of the seats and looked at the ghost expectantly. She might not quite have Hermione's thirst for forgotten knowledge — her friend was now practically bouncing in her seat — but she couldn't help feel excited anyway. It wasn't every day you learned secret spells and the Greengrasses didn't give their children access to the Greengrass magic until their thirteenth birthday.

Angelystor gave an exaggerated cough. "I thought I'd start by going over the different types of divination and what I can and can't teach you."

Harry nodded.

"Right then. First there's seership — that's the skill of using the inner eye to see thing far away from you, either in space or in time. That's what most people think of when they think of divination, at least, they did in my time."

"Our time too I think," Daphne said.

Angelystor nodded. "Then there's sensing — that's using magic as a kind of echo location to detect various types of things."

"Like homenum revelio?" Harry asked.

"Exactly like homenum revelio. That's one of the spells I was going to teach you."

Harry smiled. "Already know that one."

Daphne frowned. "I don't."

"My neither," Hermione added.

"Well, we'll get to them soon enough." Angelystor drifted back and forth as though she were pacing, hand under her chin, elbow resting on her other folded arm. "Thirdly, there's warding, at least those wards used to gather information."

"Detection wards?" Hermione asked.

"They're a good example, yes. And finally, there are associated charms and enchantments which improve your senses directly. For example, 'visus caligno', or the true night vision charm."

"True night vision…" Harry muttered, his eyes gleaming in the moon and ghost light. "…brilliant."

Hermione straightened in her chair. "Umm… Professor?"

Angelystor giggled. "Just Angelystor, or Angel if you want."

"Okay, ah… Angel. What are some of the seership spells you can teach us?"

Daphne saw Harry lean forward eagerly in his chair.

"Assuming you can successfully open your inner eye, I was trained in three spells. The first was the 'Eye of Kilrogg—'

Daphne perked up. She remembered reading about that spell before in the library. It summoned an invisible eyeball that could float through walls and wards, and which the caster could see through.

"—The second was 'mirror seership', and the third was 'threat seeing.'"

Harry tapped on his desk. "Is it possible to focus on those three first?"

"We can do that, although it's more normal to focus on learning occlumency first."

"We all know advanced occlumency."

Angelystor made a surprised smile. "Really? That's wonderful. Oh, that will make everything so much easier. Mmmmm…" She took a thinking pose. "let's start with threat seeing — that's the easiest to learn and it gives us a good idea of your ability to open your inner eye."

Daphne and Hermione eagerly nodded and soon they and Harry each had a crystal ball in front of them.

"The wand incantation is 'videt immino,' the wand movement is three jabs diagonally upwards to the right, and a single small left spiral, along with the intention to know the severity of the threat you will face, all passed through your inner eye before being released from the tip of your wand and into the crystal ball at the exact end of the final spiral."

Ten minutes later, Daphne focused again on her crystal ball, finished the final spiral of her wand movement, and released her spell into the sphere. Nothing changed. She frowned. It wasn't the wand movements that were difficult — no, it was the whole 'pass your magic through your inner eye' business. Angelystor said it was a point just beyond where their magic flowed into their bodies from their cores, and that it should feel like trying to force their magic through a pinhole.

Daphne was sure she could feel something when she really focused on that point, but it was hard to get her magic to flow through it.

She glanced over at Harry and Hermione who each wore identical expressions of focused concentration and who both had similarly unremarkable results. That even Harry was having problems said a lot about how obscure what they were trying to do must be.

Daphne turned her attention back to her own crystal ball, closed her eyes and felt her magic flow into her body. It swirled through her. She knew she could mould it and direct it as needed, could even form intent strong enough for certain spells—like stupefy and protego—to materialise straight from her fingers without having to pass through her wand. Was that similar to what she had to do now?

She gently shepherded some of her magic back to the point magic flowed from her core and attempted to pool intent to… what? To solidify? To stay where it was? But this wasn't a spell she was trying to create… it was more like an advanced form of manipulating the very magic itself. What she needed was pressure — like when she cast a wandless spell and could feel the pressure of the spell at the tips of her fingers.

She forced the magic down through her self and up again, down and up, trying to find some point for the magic to push against. Again and again. Wait. There! It was tiny and almost impossible to feel, but it was there — a tiny point of pressure, of resistance, and she thought she recognised it from when she focused hard before.

She gathered the smallest amount of magic that she possible could and tried to find that point in her again. There! Okay. Now, pool intent to know threat severity, and push it through that point.

The tiny amount of magic flowed through the point and slowly swirled around the other side.

Okay, now keep it up.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a respectable amount of channelled magic started swirling around her body. Daphne carefully nudged it towards her wand arm, allowed it to flow up through her arm, into her hand, and started the wand movements — three diagonal jabs to the right and a small left spiral. "Videt immino." The spell easily flowed through her wand, seemingly almost pulled through by an enthusiastic hand, and bolted straight into the crystal ball, which shivered, and slowly started giving off a dim blue light.

Angelystor let out a gasp. "Daphne!"

Daphne let out a long breath and beamed.

Harry and Hermione looked up at her, the former with a smile, the latter with familiar competitive intensity.

"You did it! You actually did it!" The pregnant ghost floated over to her. "That's amazing! I didn't think any of you would get that for months, not even Harry! And it only took you a quarter hour!"

Daphne tried to not look too pleased with herself, but it was a loosing battle. Harry's eyes were sparkling as he stood up and it was doing weird things to her insides. "Good instincts, I guess," she said, trying to wave it off.

Harry had now made his way over to her desk. He picked up the crystal ball and inspected it up close. "Well, there's nothing immediately hunting us down. Blue means no current threat, yes?"

Angelystor nodded. "Yes. And the brightness of the glow indicates how far into the future the threat is. We'd only have to be worried if the ball started glowing red."

Hermione had already doubled back down and was focusing with patronus like intensity over her own ball.

"Any tips you can give, Daphne?" Harry asked.

Daphne's smile grew even wider and that warm feeling from before grew stronger. She couldn't ever remember a time in all the years she'd known him, when she was actually better at something than Harry, and now Harry was asking for her help. She explained what she'd done with her magic to a listening Harry and a suddenly fiercely listening Hermione, who'd been distracted from her ball the moment Daphne started her mini lecture.

Angelystor then put her back to work on, 'opening her inner eye wider' while Harry and Hermione continued to try to open theirs even a bit.

By the end of their session, though, neither Harry nor Hermione had made any progress, and Hermione was in a right huff.

"Not everyone has the ability to open their inner eye, Hermione," Angelystor said, trying to console her friend. "And you've only been trying for a few hours. Maybe you'll get it next time?"

But it was still a grumpy Hermione who climbed into the bed opposite her own in the Slytherin first years girl's dormitory, and it wasn't until next morning that the enthusiastic 'learn all the spells' witch returned.

— DP & SW: TFoP —

Albus Dumbledore invisibly crept along the passageways of Hogwarts in search of his quarry. He hated that he'd been reduced to this, and indeed, if anyone on the board of directors learned that he'd taken to following an eleven year old boy around while invisible… well… awkward wouldn't begin to describe it.

He soon found said eleven year old boy standing in a circle of his fellow Slytherins consisting of the Greengrass heiress, the Davis heiress, the muggleborn vassal, and Mister Zabini.

"But you still hang out with Malfoy and his ilk." The Davis heiress looked ticked off.

Harry Potter smiled. "Sure."

Davis growled. "You can't be secretly on our side, Potter. That's not how this works."

"Why not?"

Davis huffed and opened her mouth again.

The Greengrass heiress put a calming hand on Davis' shoulder. "Let it go, Tracey."

"Buuutttt Dappphhhhh," Davis whined.

Potter chuckled. "I'll catch you later. I have some things to sort out." And with that, he waved and left, heading back up the corridor.

Albus followed him and the last words he heard from the children of the Gray were, "I swear, Daph, if we lose him…"

The youngest Potter swung around a corner and marched down another passageway, Albus following closely behind. So, both the Dark and the Gray children were courting Harry, were they? That was troublesome, but at least Harry's unwillingness to publicly pick a side would give him time to manoeuvre.

Harry stopped just outside a seemingly random tapestry and pulled out his wand.

Albus's eyes lit up. If young Harry was in the habit of using his wand in the corridors, issuing him a detention so he could get a full evening with him would be easy.

This thought lasted only as long as it took the boy to jab the brother wand to Tom's and muttered, "homenum revelio."

Dumbledore froze and felt a familiar wave of magic sweep over him, singling him out, even while invisible, rending any form of concealment about as useful as a paper screen in a monsoon.

The boy glanced disinterestedly in his direction, turned, and walked off again, seemingly without a care in the world.

Albus stood there, rooted to the spot. "What the hell had that been?"

— DP & SW: TFoP —

It was the second Monday after the students returned to the castle, and Hermione was tidying up after the first club meeting of the first year muggleborns, in which they'd briefly started occlumency lessons, although not the full on 'Harry Potter Method'.

They didn't have a name for their group yet. Sophie Roper had suggested, "The Newblood Club," as she felt, 'muggleborn,' sounded like you had a mental birth defect. Justin, on the other hand, didn't like the idea of giving the phrase, 'pureblood,' legitimacy by defining themselves in relation to them. He preferred, "The Founder's Club," because, as he said, "we are all the founders of our own houses."

Hermione couldn't help liking that one — 'Hermione Granger, Founder of the House of Granger' — It had quite a nice ring to it.

Kevin Entwhistle had shrugged his large shoulders and said it was, "six of one and half a dozen of the other, you know?" to which Hermione had pointed out that if you took six of one and half a dozen of another, then you would still have two identically numbered sets of different things.

Dean Thomas had then jokingly bopped her on the head, resulting in an impromptu duel that she had easily won, hands down.

Hermione now stood in the empty classroom, shrinking and pocketing the trunk that contained the portrait of Daphne's grandmother. She heard the door creak open and idly turned her head, expecting to see Sophie, or maybe one of the others back again. What she wasn't expecting to see was Draco Malfoy, leaning against the door frame and wearing that same smirk he'd worn on the train.

"Heir Malfoy." A heavy feeling slowly formed in her stomach. Her wand softly slid into her hand from her holster.

Malfoy kicked off from the door. "Hello there, Granger. Fancy meeting you here." The door closed behind him with a soft little click. "You know, amazing thing… I was just minding my own business when suddenly, a muddle of mudbloods from all the houses strolls right past me, and I thought, 'well, that's something you don't see everyday — I wonder if I follow the stink they left behind them, if I'll find the mudblood princess,' and here you are."

Hermione stuck her nose up slightly and sniffed. "Can I help you, or are just here to bark?" She couldn't help but noticing Malfoy's own wand sliding into his hand.

Malfoy's smirk grew larger. "Whose to say I'm not here to bite?"

"Oh, please. We already had this conversation on the train."

"No, Granger," he drawled, "we had half a conversation on the train. We never finished it."

"You walked away."

"I saw no reason in having the second half of our conversation were other's would see."

Hermione was getting an uneasy feeling. "Well then?" She eyed the classroom's only exit, depressingly far away with Malfoy still standing between her and it.

"As I said on the train, I have no wish to be charged with assault, even as a minor — such a thing would be unseemly of someone in my position."

Hermione snorted.

"But that's okay, because after consulting with my lawyer"—and he said the word lawyer the way other people might say, 'mansion,' or 'diamonds,' or 'five-star luxury cruise'—"I have found a solution."

Hermione gripped her wand tighter. She really didn't like this.

Draco cleared his throat. "Just one moment, let me get my occlumency up…" His eyes went in and out of focus. "Ah, there we are. Article 67, clause 4A of the magical crimes and violence act, 1778. The ministry shall maintain and make available a list of spells, the offensive use of which is not considered assault, unless leading to grievous bodily harm as defined in Article 48, clause 1A of the act." Malfoy's smirk turned to a full on grin. "The prank clause."

Hermione's mind blanked out. "Prank?" she blinked. "You, Heir Draco Malfoy, of the Noble House of Malfoy, the leading family of the Dark, and the most self important and pretentious person on the planet, are planning to use prank spells?" The last bit was said in utter disbelief.

"The list was quite an eye opener, I must say — Spent a good chunk of the Winter Break reading it through."

Hermione ground her teeth together. "I'm honoured."

Malfoy smirked and produced a slip of paper from the inside of his robe. "Listen to this one — 'foot dangling jinx' — hoists the target up into the air and dangles them helplessly from one foot. Or this one — 'the terrets jinx' — forces the target to intermittently shout out loud expletives for the duration of the jinx." He looked up at her. "Must be quite embarrassing, that one."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"And the best bit about all these is that you can only fight back with prank spells of you own, or you're in big trouble, little vassal. How many prank spells does the prim and proper mudblood princess know, I wonder?"

Hermione scowled again. The answer was none and they both knew it.

"Oh, here's a good one," he continued. "Proper place jinx — forces the target to walk on their hands and knees for the duration of the spell. Hah! And this one is my favourite — Maiden's shame jinx, changes the target's hair colour to match their knickers."

Hermione froze, horrified.

Malfoy looked up, and smirked. "Only works on witches, naturally."

And suddenly, a bolt of yellow shot towards her and she only just raised a frantic shield in time. Another bolt of yellow splashed into her shield and she desperately pushed more magic into it. Bolt after bolt slammed into it and Hermione knew that if she didn't get out of there soon, her shields would fail and in the cramped and crowded space of the classroom, she'd be unable to dodge and would be quickly backed into a helpless corner.

Heart hammering in panic, she ran straight at and past Malfoy, lunging for the door and fiddling with the door knob, all while Malfoy laughed and laughed and poured spell after spell into her rapidly weakening shields. She yanked the door open and fled down the corridor, closely followed by a howling with laughter Malfoy, still raining spells on her all the way to empty Slytherin common room, filled with smirking students, before she finally barged it to the sanctuary of the girls dormitory and slammed the door behind her, where she collapsed onto her bed and angrily pummelled her pillow with her fists, eyes watering with humiliation, Malfoy's laughter still ringing in her burning red ears.

Minutes passed and she slowly stopped beating up the pillow and instead hugged it to her chest.

"Hermione?"

Slowly her tear stained face rose up off the sheets and turned to the familiar voice.

Daphne stood in the dormitory doorway looking at her in shock.

Hermione sniffed and soon found herself in a comforting, but rather hesitant hug with the other girl.

"What happened?" Daphne asked, shifting up behind her on the bed.

Hermione told her.

Daphne looked furious. "That bastard! What do you want to do about it?"

Hermione looked down at the floor. "I… I don't know. Maybe we should ask our lord."

Daphne paused then giggled. "No need to do that. We both know exactly what he would do."

Hermione looked up thought about it for a moment. Then her face hardened and she nodded. "Get help, get stronger, get revenge?"

Daphne nodded and smirked. "Close enough."