Chapter 16: Watchful Eyes

It was nearly the end of term and Harry had yet to figure out what Malfoy wanted from him. The head boy had not approached him or even seemed to notice his presence. However, Harry frequently caught the blonde boy staring at him intently when he thought no one else was watching. The first year thought that Malfoy was either studying or watching him, Harry hadn't figured out which one it was yet. But honestly he didn't care, as far as he was concerned any interest the older boy held in him was too much interest.

Harry and his group avoided the head boy as much as possible, and it became increasingly clear with time that Malfoy was following them and attempting to watch Harry's every move. Some people might have said he was being paranoid, but too many attempts had been made on his life for him to assume that people weren't out to get him. Especially Death Eaters who served the Dark Lord. And Lucius was definitely a Death Eater.

Now that Harry knew that the older Slytherins were steering clear of him on Malfoy's orders, he began to notice more and more speculative glances thrown his way. Eyes and whispering followed him whenever he passed a group of Slytherins, but none approached him to figure out why he was in Malfoy's good graces.

Regulus and Arct kept a close eye on Snape and Lestrange, not convinced that they wouldn't try something again. All three boys regarded Lestrange's younger brother with distrust. Though Harry doubted that a first year could seriously endanger him, Arct was certain that the small boy would feed his brother anything damaging about Harry. Both Regulus and Harry agreed and shunned Rabastan more so than ever, going out of their ways to avoid the boy. If Rabastan knew what they were doing he didn't give any indication…he continued to avoid other people and only associate with his brother.

Honestly, Harry feared his roommate much less than his friends did, instead his concern lied elsewhere. Voldemort had been suspiciously quiet in the last month and a half. The newspapers reported little Death Eater activity, and Harry's scar lay dormant, except for a vision the day after the attack.

He had fallen asleep quickly that night, and almost instantly he found himself in a dark unfamiliar room. He sat quietly glaring at the wood table, tracing rune patterns into the surface with his fingers. A voice interrupted his thoughts and his fingers halted in their travel across the smooth surface.

The voice was soft and shook in obvious fear, "My Lord, we can only assume that there is a spy within our midst."

Harry looked up at the unknown man across from him and felt his temper flare.

His lip pulled back as he bared his teeth and his hand moved down to grip his wand tightly, wishing nothing more than to curse the man for the attack's failure. Not only had the group failed to kill any of the wizards, but ten of his followers had either been killed or captured in the botched attempt.

As all of his followers knew…defeat did not come lightly under his command. He considered failure unacceptable. There was going to be hell to pay and as the simpletons hadn't caught any of the Order's members he'd just have to take it out on his men.

He looked over at the shaking man. But of course the idiot was right; a spy would explain why the attack had gone amiss, and why the thrice damned bunch of do-gooders was in Kent.

At the Dark Lord's increasingly dark looks the Death Eater paled and sat up straighter in his chair while he diverted his eyes in fear.

"A spy?" Voldemort hissed out, anger lacing the two words, twisting them horribly. "A spy for Dumbledore!"

Harry had woken quickly afterwards and stood under the shower for an hour to calm his nerves and to think on what he had learned.

After that vision he was surprised when his scar didn't even give the occasional twinge of pain. He could only wonder at what this silence meant.

While he was confident that Riddle did not even remotely connect the failed Kent attack with him, he still worried that in the silence the Dark Lord was planning something major.

Harry had been racking his brain for days on end trying to recall if there had been a major attack any time soon, or perhaps an attack just on an important target? Unfortunately he could not specifically recall any important attack happening until well after the New Years.

He sincerely hoped that the silence simply meant that Riddle was concentrating on finding the suppose spy and not plotting an attack.

Not long after he had sent a letter to Harold, the month previously, he had received a vague reply back containing some pleasantries and little else. His grandfather had seemed rather distracted and worried about something, and when Harry asked James what Harold said about the Malfoy situation, the older boy merely shrugged in confusion and replied that his father hadn't a clue.

James had been watching the head boy so intently, that his squabble with Snape had been currently put on hold. It would seem that Snape had been avoiding the Marauders even more as the two hadn't exchanged any curses since Halloween night.

However, in the previous weeks following the attacks, Harry noticed Dumbledore regarding himself and Malfoy with increasing interest. Albus would stare intently; get a pondering look on his face, almost as if he was debating with himself. Then his face would grow grim, his eyes would harden, and then soften with something akin to hope. Only to be repeated over and over again. Luckily, Malfoy was so intent on watching Harry that he never seemed to notice the Headmaster's interest in him. If he had he would have been much more worried about all of the staring.

As it was, after putting up with a month of Dumbledore's stares, Harry was getting quite fed up. The headmaster obviously knew something, or at least he thought he did.

Silently, Harry groaned to himself as he looked at Dumbledore. That speculative gleam in the headmaster's eyes couldn't be good. Whatever Albus thought he knew was obviously wrong. But then again, he may have some information that would help Harry solve his Malfoy problem.

So here he was on the last day of term standing in front of a very familiar stone gargoyle.

"You know you could just make this easy and move out of my way." Harry stated as he stared at the unmoving statue.

When the statue didn't move, he let out a slight sigh before muttering, "Didn't think so."

With a roll of his eyes he began listing all the magical sweets he knew before reverting to the muggle sweets.

When he was just about to give up the gargoyle jumped aside and Harry could almost believe that it seemed disappointed and highly disgruntled.

"Really?" Harry asked disbelievingly, "Anglo Bubblies?"

With a snort he stepped on the bottom step and rolled his eyes at the password. Secretly he agreed with the gargoyle's disgruntlement at the password. He still remembered when Albus' portrait told him about the reactions he got when he had the password 'Sugar Daddy.' Apparently the old wizard would spend some time thinking up the password, for his own personal amusement, which held a secret meaning for him.

'Sometimes,' Harry thought, 'the headmaster receives too much amusement from his passwords; although fighting during three notable wars did lend credence that Albus' mind had slipped over the years.'

When the steps finally stopped moving, he slowly raised his hand and knocked on the door. Doubt entering his heart as soon as he did so. Dumbledore was already suspicious of him, not him directly, but his origins. Was he doing the right thing?

A similar set of problems, among many others, currently plagued the headmaster. Tom's silence after the attack was quite unsettling, add onto that the mysterious identity of the unknown informant and he was down right perturbed.

Albus glanced down at the list on his desk. With a frown he continued to stare intently at each name considering each before shaking his head in doubt. Only three of the nearly eighty names were left on the list, and yet he had high doubts about each one.

The names on the slightly crumpled paper had been narrowed by Moody, until there were only ten left. Painstakingly, Dumbledore had observed his students until he had dismissed seven of the ten. Only one of the three now really held his interest.

Lucius Malfoy-Seventh year, Slytherin, Head boy.

Every since Harold had informed him of Malfoy's orders Albus had been concentrating his attention on the seventh year. However, he was as unsure of Malfoy's motives as Harold was.

Albus had suspected for years that Malfoy Senior was a Death Eater, and high ranking at that, perhaps even part of the Inner Circle. If Malfoy truly was the secret informant why would he risk his cover by protecting someone who had earned Tom's wrath? Unless, Malfoy was ordered by his father to watch the boy, if that was the case then he wasn't the informant at all. Albus suspected that this was this case, after all why would Riddle spend so much time in the past concentrating on the boy's family only to leave him unwatched here?

A loud knock brought him out of his musing and he quickly covered the list with some letters on his desk.

Dumbledore glanced up at the door before staring intently through it. Surprise shown on his face as he recognized one of the last students he would have suspected standing outside his office.

Quickly wiping the surprise from his face he called out loudly, "Come in Harry."

The door silently opened and the first year Slytherin slipped in through the door and closed it quietly behind him.

Albus gave a small smile and indicated for the boy to sit down.

Once Harry had been seated, Albus continued to stare piercingly over his glasses at the smallest Potter. He only looked away once the boy had lowered his head and a light blush had appeared on the first year's cheeks.

Smiling slightly, Albus picked up a bowl and held it out to the boy, "Lemon drop?"

At the shake of the boy's head, Dumbledore put the bowl back down and leaned back in his chair.

"What can I help you with Harry?" He asked in a deceptively light voice.

Harry looked up and held his chin high, a stubborn glint entering his eyes.

The small group of first years crowded into the empty compartment, three of the four members grunting in effort as the maneuvered their luggage into the racks above.

"I can't get it!" Abigail grunted as she shoved her trunk, which had fallen off the rack back to the floor. With a frustrated look she heatedly kicked the trunk repeatedly before throwing herself into a seat, a pout quickly forming on her face.

Amusedly, Harry took out his wand and waved it over the trunk before levitating it onto the rack.

Abigail grinned in thanks and looked in glee at the other two Slytherins.

The boys stared at Harry in annoyance.

"You mean to tell me that we could have done that the whole time and avoided all that trouble?" Arct snarked at the smallest boy, gesturing to his own trunk overhead.

Regulus rolled his eyes in exasperation and took a seat next to the window, steadfastly ignoring the whole proceedings; use to his two friends' fighting by now.

"A little manual labor isn't going to kill you." Harry replied with a slight grin, glaring pointedly at Arct's mid-section. He had enjoyed watching the other two boys struggling with their trunks, while he pulled his with relative ease onto the train. A simple feather light charm had taken care of its' weight. Sometimes purebloods could be so stupid.

"Oi, who are you calling fat Potter!"

"Did I say that you were fat?" Harry asked shooting the other boy a grin.

Yaxley glared back, "You implied it!"

"And you assumed I meant you? Touchy, touchy. Maybe your subconscious is telling you something."

Regulus snorted, quickly changing it to a soft cough when Yaxley transferred his glare to him.

"Potter my subconscious is not trying to tell me anything! Besides…at least I'm not an underfed runt."

"Abigail do you hear that?" Regulus asked, looking around the compartment in apparent worry before Harry could respond.

At the girl's inquiring look he continued.

"I could have sworn I heard two Gryffindors whining the world's saddest tune."

As the Hufflepuff started laughing, the train jerked forward, beginning the journey back to London.

About half-way through the train ride Harry bid his friends goodbye and left the compartment to seek out a few of his other friends, before finding James.

He quickly walked down the aisle glancing through the glass widows.

He was about to look into the next compartment when a door opened ahead of him and a dark head peered out, "Potter, I'd like a word with you."

Harry's hand automatically dropped to his wand as he stared at the older boy.

Snape stared back with slight look of distaste on his face.

"In private."

Harry nodded and slowly walked forward, glancing through the glass as he did so. When he saw it was empty, save Snape, he hesitantly walked in.

"What can I do for you Snape?"

The dark haired boy stared at the first year before shutting the door and looking through the glass while pulling the curtains down. Once that was done he turned back around only to find the first year grasping his wand tightly.

"Honestly Potter, I'm not going to attack you." Severus snarled "I simply would like to keep this between the two of us."

Harry nodded. His eyes boring curiously into the other's.

The third year remained silent, looking as if he was contemplating something, and after several minutes he looked up with a slightly pained expression on his face.

"Sorry for attacking you."

Harry blinked in shock…did Snape actually apologize to him?

"Wha-what?" he stuttered out in amazement.

Snape cringed and then glared in annoyance.

"I said that I am sorry for attacking you."

"Yes, I heard you, but why?" he paused before continuing "Why are you apologizing, and why now?"

The other boy straightened and averted his gaze while his cheeks reddened.

"Well it's been brought to my attention that you really did not help Potter in his idiotic prank, and that you are not the same as Potter."

"Oh." Harry still looked confused at the older boy.

"So…?"

"So what?" he asked perplexed.

With a long suffered sigh Snape glared at the first year, "So…am I forgiven or not?"

"Um, yes?"

"Was that a question?"

Harry started, stilling staring "No. Yes you are forgiven. No hard feelings."

Snape nodded tightly and motioned for the first year to leave.

Harry lost no time in leaving, confusion marking his face as he walked out the door and nearly headlong into Lily.

"Hello Harry!" the red head said cheerfully with a wide smile.

His eyes quickly focused in on her and he muttered a subdued reply.

She looked at him in concern, her smile fading slightly.

"Are you feeling well?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He smiled widely before walking around her "Merry Christmas."

Lily watched the boy walk down the hall with amusement written across her features.

"Harry, James!"

Harry turned at the voice, glancing through the crowd as they were jostled about by the surrounding crowd. Body pressed closely to him, and excited shouts could be heard throughout the throng.

"Do you see him James?"

James jumped on top of his trunk and looked at the platform, "Not yet. Which way did he yell from?"

"Boys! Over here!"

James and Harry turned towards the voice.

Harry finally caught sight of Harold waving over the heads of the students, smiling widely, and standing in the middle of the platform.

Grabbing James' arm, he pointed before walking towards the platform, dragging his trunk forward as James hopped down and followed.

"Dad!" The third year called out excitedly once they had reached the older man.

Harold smiled widely before pulling his son into a warm hug, laughing slightly before ruffling James' already windswept hair.

"James…Harry," Harold threw his free arm out and pulled Harry to his side as well, "it's great to have you home boys. Mary hasn't been this eager for Christmas since James' first year."

"Where's she at?" James asked not pulling out from under his father's arm.

"She's at home, taking care of some last minute issues." Harold assured his son before glancing over the crowd.

Harry glanced over the crowed as well, looking for possible threats.

Almost as if catching the thought Harold gained a look of unease, "Shall we go then boys?"

At James' eager nod, Harold led the two away from the tracks and to the barrier.

As they were about to walk through Harry glanced back and caught two sets of blue eyes staring at him. Involuntarily he stiffened as he marched into the barrier.