Chapter 13: Storms and Secrets

He stepped out of the floo and into the dingy, dimly lit room, pushing his way to the door.

Entering into the main room of 'The Leaky Cauldron' he nearly knocked over a portly hag sporting a shirt with a fierce, animated falcon; causing her to spill her drink. She shot him a cross look, mumbling drunkenly under her breath.

Alfred hardly paid her any mind as he made his way through the throngs of quidditch fans - still in revelry stemming from Falmouth's defeat of Kestrel earlier in the evening - and towards the entrance to Diagon Alley on the pubs east wall.

Paying special attention to the package at his waist, he stepped into the elements.

Wind howled through the air as rain splattered off his cloak. He shivered in the freezing, November rain as somewhere not too far off a flash of lightning permeated the midnight sky. The loud roar of thunder a second later shook the buildings on either side of the alley.

Lord Greengrass was uncommonly unpresentable as he cantered through the empty, cobblestone streets- absent were the well-tailored robes, styled blonde hair, and charmed cloaks that normally adorned his sturdy figure. He didn't dare to dawdle, sometimes there were more important things in life.

As he made his way towards the beautiful marbled building at the end of the alley he thought back on the letter he had received an hour prior.

' Lucius Malfoy wants to encourage a relationship between his son and Astoria?'

The question was why.

The gossip that his eldest daughter was romantically involved with the scion of two of England's most influential families had spread like wildfire, as had his approval of the relationship -effectively announcing to the world that the Greengrass family would not be supporting the Dark Lord in his attempt at revolution. And while he didn't expect Astoria to break off contact with Draco Malfoy, he certainly hadn't expected Lucius to act so boldly.

' What did he hope to gain?' He had asked himself, but the answer was obvious.

' Secrets.' And he had already invited the child into his home once, he had undoubtedly wanted a tour.

' And seen the library.' He shivered at the thought.

' Horcruxes, Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy.' Ophelia had been privy to it all.

' And now my family is in danger.'

Cutting through the wind and rain Alfred ascended the steps of Gringotts with some pace, hoping to finish his task as soon as possible.

Despite the hour, he met little resistance at the door as the two goblins merely eyed him with varying degrees of suspicion - accustom to late-night visitors.

He quickly made his way to a bored looking teller at the front of the empty bank.

"I'd like to make a deposit." He said with more confidence then he felt.

The creature eyed him blankly for a moment; "gold or possessions?" He asked in a bored manner.

"Possessions." He said confidently, placing the shrunken trunk hanging from his waist onto the counter.

The goblin made to grab the trunk, but Alfred stopped him.

"I'd like to accompany the parcel to my family's vault, please."

The goblin shot him an annoyed look - trips to ones' vault were exceptionally rare and required more work than a goblin liked to put in at such an hour.

Still, with the request made, the creature couldn't refuse and shouted out in gobbledygook.

A tired-looking second goblin appeared a second later, ready to lead him to the depths of Gringotts.

Removing a small sack of galleons from his pocket, he gave the first goblin his most serious look, pushing the bag towards the teller.

"This transaction never happened."

With a greedy smile the goblin took the bag and nodded his head.

"It seems I have misplaced my ledger, but I'm pretty sure my colleague has a spare."

Alfred got the hint, and with a nod of his head followed the second goblin to the carts.

' The price I pay to keep my family safe.'

"Did you see Krum's face?" Daphne exclaimed, a face-slitting grin adorning her face. "It looked like he had just finished double potions with Snape!"

He laughed. The making their way to the dungeons from the decidedly anti-climactic selection ceremony.

"His reaction was surprising, but not unexpected." Harry responded.

While Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory had both been hoping to become their schools champions, Viktor Krum - rumor had it - only entered at behest of the Vratsa Vultures, the star seeker's club team wanted the added press.

Daphne nodded; "I overheard a prefect tell Blaise that both Krum and Federov wanted Federov to represent Durmstrang."

The pair let the conversation drift as they made themselves comfortable in a pair of plush, leather chairs they had conjured for themselves at the beginning of the year.

"Who did you draw in round one?" His she asked. Along with the announcement of the three champions, duelers had partaken in the official draw for the first round of the other aspects of the tournament.

The dueling tournament was set to begin in two weeks, and despite his excitement for the opportunity, he couldn't help but wonder if fourth years - from any school - could challenge him, let alone Maria Duval.

"Maria Duval from Beauxbatons, how about you?"

"Constantine Heidberg. He's in my transfiguration class, I'm not overly impressed."

It was no secret among the schools that one of the Hogwarts fourth years was expected to win the dueling tournament, most felt that Harry and Daphne would ultimately duel each other for that crown, the Weasley twins had even given that possibility 2:1 odds.

The pair settled into a comfortable silence as Daphne dove into a book on conjuration, while he flipped open to an earmarked page in a plain, black journal once belonging to Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle, he had discovered through the years, was frighteningly brilliant, and appeared to be much further along in his studies at fourteen than he was; a thought that drove him mad.

It was odd to have a rival whom he had never met, or even corresponded with, but it pushed him to become better none-the-less.

The journal itself was a wealth of knowledge; with notes on everything from charms and the dark arts, to divination and even necromancy.

But it was Tom Riddle's obsession with Hogwarts that had piqued his interest of late.

Page after page contained detailed information about passages, artifacts, and rooms he had never heard of; but above all else, it was Tom Riddle's obsession with the Chamber of Secrets that had rubbed off on him.

The fabled chamber had been created by Salazar Slytherin towards the end of his life as a way to pass along his heritage.

Tom Riddle had hypothesized that only a parselmouth could unravel the mysteries of the chamber; Harry had wondered for years if his unique trait, a trait he apparently shared with Riddle, had any use beyond conversing with pointless creatures.

Apparently, Riddle had thought the same.

At long last, sometime in his fifth year, the Slytherin prefect had found what he had been looking for, and he had excitedly noted his discovery in the journal Harry was currently reading.

' While attending to my prefect duties on Tuesday night, I came across an incident in the girl's loo on the second floor between two fourth year girls. After putting an end to the banal fight, I had noticed one of the girls had lost a book, which had found its way under the closest sink to the wall. While retrieving the girls book, I noticed a peculiar carving of a snake slithering around the plumbing, demanding to be spoken too.'

Harry paused. 'No fucking way.'

For years Riddle, and ostensibly he, had been searching for this mysterious chamber, only to find it in a girl's bathroom?

' I instinctively knew what to do, as if the magic of the chamber had been speaking to me, calling for me to unleash the mysteries. 'Open' I hissed, and the wall came apart, revealing a narrow, disgusting, set of stairs.'

"He found it."

Daphne looked up from her book with a start; "who found what?"

"Tom Riddle. He found the Chamber of Secrets in the girl's loo on the second floor!" Harry slammed the book shut, eager to explore the chamber for himself.

The look of indecision on his girlfriend's face gave him pause.

"What's wrong?"

Daphne bit her bottom lip in hesitation.

When she spoke, her voice was trembling;"how much do you know about Tom Riddle, Harry? I mean do we really want to trust his judgement?"

' Where is this coming from?' After all, they had been using this room - to both of their benefit - for years, and now she has worries.

"We've trusted his judgement enough to use this room…"

She cut him off, motioning towards the spartan desk several meters away; "that drawer nearly killed you!"

He frowned; "I wasn't ready for that; besides, I'm sure Riddle took care of the dangerous things that may be in the Chamber."

For the first time in his life he saw Daphne look scared, although he didn't know why.

She fidgeted silently in her chair for a few seconds before a familiar calm passed over her.

"It's Tom Riddle, Harry." She said through baited breath; "the man who would later become Voldemort."

A hurricane of emotions flew through him.

Disbelief. Tom Riddle couldn't have become Voldemort. While he certainly tended to research the more destructive aspects of magic, the boy didn't fit the mold of a psychopath, did he?

Denial. Tom Riddle postulated about a lot of harmful ways magic could be used; but many geniuses have their kinks - Dumbledore spent years studying resurrection and he wasn't evil.

Anger. If Riddle really was the man who killed his parents, then why the hell would Daphne keep that from him, isn't that something he should have known?

"How long have you known, Greengrass?" She flinched at the use of her surname.

' Good.' He thought.

In that moment he wanted her to feel the hurt and betrayal he was.

"I came across that information in my Aunt's memories last year." She admitted, a slight tremble in her voice.

"And you kept that from me?" He said with disgust. Keeping secrets was one thing - he didn't need to know that every Thursday she had lunch with Astoria in an unused lounge on the third floor, but this ? This was different.

"I liked you Harry." She started. "I liked our time together in this room. I liked that we pushed each other to our limits. I liked that the knowledge you found in here made you want to become better, I liked laughing with you and having a friend, what was I supposed to do?" She yelled, anger finally creeping into her voice.

"I don't know!" He responded with vitriol. "Maybe tell me that I'm learning from the most evil man who had ever lived!"

"So what? You would stop learning? Knowledge is knowledge, Potter. " She spat. "It's how you use it that matters! You're the one who has to kill the bastard someday, now you know him as well as anyone!"

The reminder of the prophecy tugged at his mind, but anger overwhelmed him, his wand at the ready as he stepped towards her.

"Get out, Greengrass. You're not welcome here anymore."

Daphne stood abruptly, fiery pride on her perfect face, she stepped towards the door before turning to face him one last time.

"I don't regret it, Harry. I hope someday you come to see that." She said softly, closing the door behind her as she left.

Finally, fear flowed through him.

' If I find Tom Riddle and his ideas this captivating, what does that say about me?'

Voldemort eyed the woman across from him with mild disdain at her failure.

He gripped Crouch'swillow and dragon heartstring wand - a relatively poor match compared to his own yew and phoenix feather - in annoyance, he had many good qualities, patience wasn't one of them.

"You better have a secondary plan, Bellatrix." He stated in a soft, calm voice.

She flinched at his tone.

He didn't blame her, that tone tended to shorten lifespans.

So did his yelling, now that he contemplated the issue.

"Of course, my lord."

Bellatrix spoke with confidence and maintained eye contact, showing none of her fear.

He'd always loved her self-assured nature, it reminded him of himself.

Calm.

Confident.

Cunning.

Dangerous.

Smart.

The five qualities he looked for in a General, and a relatively brilliant one, Bellatrix Lestrange had become.

"Good. "

"It will be a few weeks before we can execute it, my lord. The boy is cautious, and difficult to get alone, but the pieces are already in motion."

Severus had once said Dumbledore would do anything to protect the Potter family; the theory had proved true in the past.

The wait was no problem; it wouldn't be good to act before Lucius had a chance to set the board, anyways.

"Take your time, Bella, but get it right. Failure will not be tolerated again."

' Lies; ' he couldn't afford to lose the sadistic witch; others could be sacrificed, but not Bellatrix Lestrange.

The finality in his voice conveyed his message, and the black-haired witch dismissed herself with a deep bow before calmly walking out of the room.

Absentmindedly he fidgeted with the ring on his finger, relishing the feeling of one partial soul tickling the other.

He hadn't felt this alive in years.

"Are you two still fighting?" Terry said as they exited herbology on the third day of November.

"Ummhmm." Was his response as he finished reading a letter from Sirius.

"What the hell are you two fighting about, anyways?"

Harry stopped in his tracks, his eyes turning to Daphne's swaying hips as she, Lily, and Blaise headed towards the castle.

' Do I tell him?' He contemplated that thought for a second.

He needed to tell someone, it may as well be his best friend.

' He's betrayed you before, Harry. Can you really trust him?' He contemplated telling him a partial truth but decided against it, unwilling to lie to his friend.

"Personal stuff, that's all."

And it was personal. His argument with Daphne had thrown his mood off - he hadn't realized how much he had been leaning on her.

He couldn't even muster the nerves to check out the very thing that caused their fight.

"Do you think you two will work it out?" Terry asked, stopping in front of a large oak tree near the westernmost greenhouse; burning a triangle with a downward slash through it into the center of the tree.

The trunk of the tree widened, and the charred bark disappeared, revealing a dusty path that would lead them to just outside the student lounge on the third floor, defying the laws of physics.

' Riddle's passageway.'

He frowned.

"Congratulations, by the way." He said, changing the topic.

Terry took the subject change in stride and smiled.

"Thanks, I really like her."

"Not Marci, you jackass." He half-laughed, rolling his eyes. His friend had really loosened up since meeting the pretty French witch. "Your mother."

The brunette boy smiled. "Thanks! It will be coming up for a vote in the Wizengamot early next year, dad says."

He had read in the Prophet that morning that his mother's Wolfsbane potion had finally been deemed "safe" by the ministry, all that was left was to get the Wizengamot's approval.

Back in first year Terry had told him how difficult it was for a family to elevate their financial status, families worked for years to break that barrier; with Melissa Boot's potion, his family would have that opportunity.

He frowned internally; that conversation had been about why Goldstein hated him. 'All because my ancestor saw a better investment opportunity.'

The boy had been a thorn in his side for years, but something in him had changed this year.

Where there had once been loud taunts and jabs at how people around him died, that bullying had lacked a sense of determination. This years version of Anthony Goldstein had that in excess.

"How will your father remain impartial?"

Terry sighed; "he'll have to recuse himself."

Harry nodded; he had expected as much.

"We can count on the support of House Potter and House Black, right?"

Harry nodded his head vigorously; without that potion Remus would be a wreck.

"After what it has done for Remus? Of course!"

He watched as Daphne bowed slightly to Constantine Heidberg, fixing the boy with a bored look.

The Durmstrang fourth year looked confident in his blood red dueling robes and black dragon skin boots.

The adversaries stepped into their dueling circles, and at the referee's mark, the duel began.

The red-haired boy opened with a mildly impressive string of bludgeoners and knee-reversal hexes.

None of them had a chance against Daphne as she danced around her circle with grace, countering with a string of silent explosive curses aimed at the ground in front of her opponent, spewing up a cloud of rock and dust.

The contrast in her casting ability to that of her opponents was embarrassing.

He recognized her strategy and smirked at what he saw.

' She's experimenting.'

For as long as he had known her, Daphne had preferred a direct approach; avoiding distractions in favor of direct confrontation.

Piercing curses, fire spells, blood boilers; those were her bread and butter.

And her strategy worked well, as long as she was facing an inferior opponent.

Consistently losing to him and Tonks in their practice duels had finally taught her to be more well-rounded.

Heidelberg could hardly be considered the superior here, he noted as Daphne evoked a beautiful, golden shield with a soft mutter - allowing the boys skin pealing curse to be absorbed.

' Overkill.' He thought to himself; she would have been better off smacking that curse aside and countering quickly.

But the regal blonde knew that; and if the small smile tugging at the corner of Tonks's lips was any indicator, so did she.

Seemingly bored with the duel, Greengrass directed a large bolt of lightning at her opponent.

Constantine's eyes widened as he leapt from his circle.

The Durmstrang contingent hissed in displeasure - not at Constantine's cowardice, but at Daphne's borderline lethal spell.

Harry laughed. For all their bravado Durmstrang could barely last two minutes.

Several meters away the Durmstrang coach was arguing that point to the referee animatedly, while Tonks seemed to be pointing out that since her duelist didn't use any water spells, she was within her right to use lightning.

To the layman, Daphne looked bored with the argument; but he could see the subtle amusement in her features as she observed the Durmstrang students.

The slight tug on her high-cheekbones accentuating her jawline.

Well-manicured eyebrows; the left standing a little higher than the right, as if daring the foreigners to fire a spell at her.

And finally, her posture; chest puffed out as she stood back on her heels, her sleeves purposefully rolled up, showing the whole crowd her wand, which was fastened non-threatingly in the holster on her wrist.

She was inviting confrontation.

Daphne Greengrass wasn't scared of one of them.

The referee made the correct decision and she caught his eye; impress me, the look screamed.

He scraped his original plan of finishing Maria Duval with one spell as soon as he stepped on the stage; eager to match his competition's display.

The roar of the crowd filled him with exhilaration as he offered the French witch a polite bow, catching Gabrielle's pretty blue eyes as he did so.

The part-veela was sitting in the front row, right behind the dueling platform.

Her expression was more curious than calculating, though there was definitely some of the later in her oval, almost avian face.

His opponent looked nervous; and he couldn't help but feel sorry for the tall brunette; even if there hadn't been rumors about him, she would be filled with anxiety. She was outmatched and they both knew it.

It didn't take a scouting report from Tonks to tell him that.

She opened by casting a disillusionment charm on herself, following it up with a blanket of grey smoke.

' Smart start.' He thought, looking for any sign of movement. What the witch lacked in power she made up for in strategy.

For the crowd's sake he remained visible.

A bright orange curse flew at him from his right.

Without hesitation he batted the spell away; and in a snap decision he knew what he needed to work on.

Charms and offensive magic had been his preferred strategy throughout his time at Hogwarts; but both Tonks and Daphne wanted him to incorporate more transfiguration and conjuration into his style.

Silently he dissipated the smoke, following it up with a large swath of red paint.

An amount of the paint rested in the air, and with a flick of his wrist he conjured a murder of ravens, directing them at his opponent.

Duval eliminated them with a wide-area stunner immediately, much to his surprise, hoping to catch him off-guard with a quick counter.

But Harry was too quick as he hit the ground in front of himself with a minor explosive curse, causing the dueling platform to splinter.

Using the debris as a base material, he quickly transfigured a pair of Doberman's, sending them charging at the lanky girl who was still trying to catch her bearings after dealing with the ravens.

Displaying some surprising quickness, Maria hit both dogs with bludgeoners to the head, causing their skulls to explode in a sea of red.

The crowd roared with gusto as the French witch sent a weak piercing curse his way.

The curse was accurate, but not accurate enough as Harry turned his torso slightly, causing the curse to crash into the wards behind him.

' Enough of this.'

The fight was boring, and he had better things to do.

With a couple of circular motions, he transfigured some debris into a large polar bear.

The transfiguration was at the upper edge of his limits, but he wanted to impress.

The bear roared, but his wand hadn't stopped moving as he transfigured another few pieces of wood into a chest plate and a helmet before sticking them to the bear - effectively guarding his beast from Maria's spells.

The girl screamed in terror as the bear charged at her - running from her circle in fright.

After being declared the victor, Harry sent a severing curse at the bear, catching the transfiguration in its neck, severing its head.

The Hogwarts crowd roared in approval while the Beauxbatons contingent -minus Gabrielle who gave him a look that screamed approval and… something else - reacted in much the same manner as Durmstrang had.

' Fear.' He realized. Everyone who had witnessed the last two duels feared the victors.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

As he calmly hopped off stage he caught Daphne's eye and her brief nod of approval.

' Daphne doesn't fear me.' He realized.

' To hell with the rest of them.'

Daphne smiled triumphantly as the potion in front of her turned from a nice magenta, to a crystal clear color.

Setting her potion to simmer, she stood up from the rigid wooden chair, extending her arms above her head and arching her back as she stretched.

The brew was exceptional, and after simmering for three hours, she would have her own cauldron of Parysatis's Poison.

She shuddered slightly as the wards recognized her presence, letting her leave the room she and Harry had created, unharmed.

' A ward Harry had learned from Riddle.'

The thought was unnerving, her boyfriend had been learning from Voldemort for years; but Harry had drastically overreacted to her revelation - after all, it's not as though he hadn't stolen knowledge from other dark lords.

' Tempus' She thought as she exited into the castle.

' Damn.' She hated being out after curfew. With the castle so empty, it became harder to blend in.

Daphne cast a disillusionment charm on herself and silenced her shoes as she hung a left and took the wide staircase to a seldom used part of the dungeons.

The stairs led her to a mostly unused corridor - one of many such corridors, remnants of a forgotten time when hundreds of kids filled these hallways.

' What the hell?' She thought as her body tingled slightly.

Casting a quick diagnostic charm, she frowned as she discovered that temporary proximity wards had been erected over the area.

Alerted by the wards, she could hear a set of voices heading her way.

Daphne quickly placed a notice-me-not charm on herself before hugging the damp stone walls, making sure to remain perfectly still.

A moment later Professor Avery, flanked by Malfoy and Goldstein appeared.

She eyed them suspiciously as they walked the perimeter.

' What are you assholes up to?'

"It was probably just Ms. Norris." Goldstein quipped.

She eyed the tall boy suspiciously; his dislike of Harry buoyed by his affiliation with Malfoy; 'and Avery;' made him potentially dangerous.

The charms professor seemed to accept that answer readily enough, and the trio headed back towards where they came.

She followed them from a distance, watching as they made their way into an unused classroom.

"Alright, boys." She heard the voice of Daniel Avery say in a light tone; "the incantation is 'Obliviate!' "

Daphne gasped in horror as she peaked into the room.

Thankfully they didn't have a victim to practice on, but by the looks of their spells they weren't far from taking that final step.

Quietly she snuck away.

She had a letter to write.

Daphne's mind raced as she sprinted back to the common room.

' The memory charm. Within Draco's grasp.'

She thought of Astoria's growing relationship with the boy, and dread filled her.

But who could she take her concerns to?

Snape wouldn't discipline his godson.

Vector; while fair, was till Goldstein's Head of House.

' McGonagall.'

The Deputy Headmistress was exceptionally fair; and would at the very least investigate the matter.

The issue was settled, first thing in the morning she would seek out the Transfiguration professor and express her concerns.

"It's so… busy." She said with wonder as Harry grabbed her hand and led her past the multitude of ovens and stove tops and towards a quiet corner near the back of the kitchens.

"Are the kitchens at Beauxbatons quieter?" He asked curiously.

Gabrielle tilted her head in thought as he did his best not to stare.

"I don't believe I have ever seen the kitchens at Beauxbatons, 'Arry."

It took all his training to not blush at the way she purred his name. 'Thank god for occlumency.'

"Then you don't know your school well enough!" He proclaimed, pulling her chair out for her as she took a seat.

"Such a gentleman, 'Arry." She teased.

He did blush that time.

Harry found himself in a difficult situation as they exchanged small talk while waiting for their first course to arrive.

Gabrielle was incredibly easy to talk to and when he talked to her, she had a way of drawing him in so that nothing else in the world seemed to matter.

There was no doubt his French friend had many suitors; but here she was, with one of the few people in the school who she couldn't have.

"How's quidditch training coming?"

He knew from their previous talks that her practice schedule had been a little more demanding than she had anticipated.

Her blue eyes danced in delight at the change in topic. Flying came naturally to the part veela, and Harry had come to learn that the competition gave her an outlet for her suppressed aggression.

" Magnifique!" She exclaimed excitedly. "I've won a spot in the starting lineup for Saturday!"

He congratulated his friend, but otherwise listened to her excited response silently, distracted as her leg seemed to brush against his from under the table.

Not that he minded.

The topic switched to his duel against her classmate as they ate their main course before shifting to nonsensical, random topics as they waited for their desert.

"Is Fleur ready for the first task?"

Gabrielle frowned; "she claims she isn't, but I find that hard to believe."

The first task was meant to put an exclamation point on the upcoming weekend's activities.

"Does she know what it is yet?"

The honey-blonde seemed to ponder his question for a moment, before a smile graced her angelic face.

"Can you keep a secret."

It was his turn to smile; "better than anyone in the school."

"She won't tell me what it is… but she's been getting help from Madame Maxime; and I know she has snuck off into the forest at least twice; I have a feeling she may know."

He nodded his head in disappointment at the lack of information, before holding out his arm,

allowing Gabrielle to loop her arm in his as they left the kitchens.

They walked in a comfortable silence for several minutes when a far-off voice interrupted them.

"Gabrielle!" A girl Harry did not recognize shouted out.

The girl ran towards them, and the pair exchanged a rapid conversation in French before the other girl nodded and ran off.

Gabrielle turned towards him, uncertainty on her face.

"I've heard about your fight with Daphne, Harry." She started nervously.

Harry tensed up, hoping she both would and wouldn't kiss him again.

"Are the two of you attending the ball together?"

Despite being prepared for it, the question still caught him off-guard.

He and Daphne hadn't talked over the last couple weeks, and with December approaching it was something they needed to figure out.

Still…. His fight with Daphne felt more like wonton anger than something he couldn't get over - even now her actions didn't do more than annoy him.

"Yes." He answered, giving her an apologetic smile. "We are."

Gabrielle offered him a sad smile; "a girls gotta try." She responded sadly before enveloping him in a quick embrace.

"I hope to see you in the stands Saturday, Harry!" She said, the invite lacking some of her natural enthusiasm.

"I'll be cheering for you." He said with a bright smile.

"You better." She said, a hint of forced cheerfulness in her voice.

"Goodbye, Harry." She said softly before kissing his cheek.

And with that, Gabrielle Delacour turned on her heel and headed off to the small group of witch's waiting for her.

"Uck. Why do we need to collect these damn leaves again?" Lily said, wiping the thick, purple liquid emanating from the roots and leaves of the shrivelfig in front of them.

"We need them for the shrinking solution we're making in potions on Thursday." Was his quick reply as he collected what was needed and pushed the shrivelfig aside.

"We don't need to, though." Lily said conspiratorially; all of this is in our potions kit.

He just shrugged as they packed up and headed towards the door.

"How's Blaise doing?"

Lily's eyes briefly came to life before fading slightly.

' She's gotten much better at controlling her emotions.' He thought with approval.

"He's doing good! We spend most of our free time mapping out constellations, right now we're working on Cassiopeia!"

He would never understand their fascination with stars but admired his friends passion for the subject nonetheless.

"I heard you had lunch with Gabrielle?"

There was a slight question in her otherwise emotionless voice.

"The other day, it was nice."

' And challenging.' He added silently.

It was hard not to be attracted to the French girl; looks aside, Gabrielle Delacour was a joy to be around.

"Daphne didn't like that." Lily chided as they entered into the castle.

He shrugged; "I can't have lunch with a friend?"

She snorted. "Are you trying to tell me she didn't ask you to the Yule Ball?"

Hopefully he managed to keep the surprise off his face. "Where did you hear that?"

She just stared at him blankly in response.

' A little too good.'

"Besides, I said I was going with Daphne."

Lily smiled. "You should tell Daphne that, she's been a wreck."

The truth was he wanted to. He missed her, he needed her in his life - Hogwarts was dull without her around. But his pride wouldn't let him.

"I know." He replied. With some slight hesitation he quickly added; "would you tell her that I've changed the password back? She'll understand."

Lily offered him a pretty smile; "tell her yourself."

He sighed; he really should. But an apology would make her believe she did nothing wrong, and he couldn't allow that, even if he did realize he was overreacting.

"Would you just pass along the message, please?" He half pleaded.

Lily seemed to struggle internally before groaning; "fine, but just this once."

The crowd was buzzing with excitement as they took their seats on a chilly November Sunday.

The first task was set to begin any minute now, putting an end to an exciting weekend that saw Durmstrang defeat Beauxbatons 210-180 in quidditch the day before.

"Are you going to tell us what the first task is, or are you going to make us wait?" Terry asked; the boy had been speculating on what the first task could be for nearly a week - postulating on anything from killing an Acromantula to testing their nerve with some dementors.

The whole thing was driving Harry mad.

Gabrielle smiled, showing off her pearly whites while moving a strand of loose hair out of her face.

"They have to get past a dragon and steal an egg."

Marci and Terry balked at her statement, but he just smiled; from the cavalier way Gabrielle had revealed the task, he knew that the charms prodigy must have a plan.

"Do you think Diggory and Krum know what the task is?"

Gabrielle shrugged, but he cut Terry off before he could respond.

"I'd bet Krum knew." There was no way the Vultures would ask their star seeker to enter a dangerous tournament without knowing all the risks involved.

"But I doubt Diggory knew anything."

There was something vitreous and naïve about Hogwarts, and there was no doubt in his mind that Dumbledore would uphold his oath and ensure Diggory got no special help.

The three champions stood at the center of the quidditch pitch as Ludo Bagman announced the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and while Delacour and Krum didn't even bother to feign surprise - Diggory had gone from confident, to ghost-white in a matter of seconds, confirming his theory.

"What were the redheads saying, Terry?" Marci questioned.

The Weasley twins had turned gambling into a lucrative side business in their time at Hogwarts, and for the last week they had been accepting bets on the first task.

"They have Fleur as the favorite to win this task."

"Why's that?" He asked curiously, wondering how they knew so much about Fleur.

"I told them what I knew about her, and apparently they have their own sources as well."

Gabrielle smiled brightly; "Fleur's ability with charms, as well as a veela's natural resistance to fire gives her the advantage."

The group nodded as Viktor Krum prepared to take on his Swedish Short-Snout.

The vicious looking creature roared with gusto, trying to break free of its bindings and attack the threat in front of him.

For his part, Krum looked annoyed by the entire proceeding, and when the whistle blew, he started moving his wand in a slow, circular motion.

Besides his prowess in quidditch, it had been reported in the Prophet the Viktor Krum was an ambitious hunter; a trait that would undoubtedly help him in his task.

Harry recognized the fireproofing charm, which Krum immediately followed up with a charm commonly used by hunters to mask their smell.

His wand movements were precise and fluid, and he imagined his spells were applied properly.

Next the quidditch star started to move forward cautiously as the dragon tried to lunge at the Durmstrang champion.

Krum took a hesitant step back before sending several curses at the dragon, attempting to blind the creature.

His first two spells missed, but his third found its mark, hitting the dragon in its left eye.

The Swedish Short-Snout thrashed around in pain, causing Krum to jump to an unnatural height.

' Wingardium Leviosa.' He thought with pained amusement, thinking sadly about his old friend.

Harry often wondered about Hermione, what she would be doing right now.

' What I'd be doing right now.' Would he be the same person he was today?

While slowly levitating towards the ground, the seeker let loose several high-level cutting charms, charms normally meant for precious medals.

The first missed, but the third connected with the dragons tail, instantly severing a large piece of it, causing the creature to let out a loud roar.

Seemingly satisfied with his effort, Krum conjured a thick cloud of smoke, disappearing from view.

On the pitch he could hear the dragon thrash around in displeasure.

When the smoke cleared a few seconds later, a limping Viktor Krum was holding a golden egg as the Durmstrang contingent roared in delight.

The judges conveyed, whispering together for a minute before the four scores were tallied.

"38." Terry stated. "Not bad."

"But not good enough." Gabrielle boasted. "Fleur will only use one spell, and she will walk away unharmed, you'll see."

The French witch took her place on the pitch, a bored expression on her face as she stared down the Chinese Fireball in front of her.

The Fireball sniffed the air cautiously. Seemingly sensing danger, the dragon immediately shot a thick stream of fire at Fleur, causing the witch to run forward at an unnatural speed, cutting hard and to the left.

Gabrielle squeezed his thigh in worry, but otherwise showed no concern for her sisters safety.

While Fleur was moving, her eyes never left her target, and her wand never stopped moving.

"She's using Grimhilde's curse." Gabrielle answered at his questioning gaze.

Queen Grimhilde, was a sixteenth century Scandinavian queen famous for cursing her step-daughter into a near permanent sleep.

With that knowledge, Harry re-focused his attention on the scene in front of him with intrigue.

As she completed the complex curse, the dragon glowed a faint blue before stumbling absentmindedly around the pitch before falling to the ground in an enchanted slumber, causing the arena to shake gently.

As the crowd roared in delight, the Beauxbatons champion calmly grabbed her egg, and exited the stadium unharmed.

"A perfect score." Terry grumbled from next to him.

Next to him Marci and Gabrielle shot the boy an annoyed look at his disappointment.

A few rows down Harry noticed Fred and George Weasley eye each other with delight - undoubtedly most of Hogwarts had bet on Diggory.

"It seems your redheaded friends will make some money today." Marci quipped.

"Unless Cedric pulls off a perfect score." Terry added hopefully, earning him another stern glare.

While Krum had looked annoyed, and Fleur bored - Cedric Diggory looked absolutely terrified as the horn sounded, signifying the start of his task.

Sensing his fear, the fierce looking Peruvian Vipertooth let out a loud roar before swinging his spiked tail at the Hogwarts champion, catching him in the ribs and sending him flying several feet in the air.

"That looked like it hurt." Terry added grimly.

Next to him he noticed Gabrielle subconsciously rub her own ribs where she had taken a bludger the previous day.

"It is unfair that he did not know." Marci spoke with dismay.

Harry just shrugged, if Cedric couldn't be bothered to figure out what the task was ahead of time, he probably didn't deserve to be a champion.

The well-built sixth year got up with some trepidation, transfiguring some rocks into several dogs, sending them to the outskirts of the stadium, hoping to draw the dragons attention away from himself.

For a moment, the strategy seemed to work as the Chinese Fireball eagerly chased down and killed the dogs before realizing that Diggory was encroaching on her nest.

With an angry roar the dragon let out a torrent of flames, causing Diggory to freeze just long enough to be hit in the side with the impossibly hot flame.

His amplified screams filled the stadium as dragon handlers and medics rushed out to the pitch to rescue the sixth year.

The attitude in the arena seemed to change in that moment as the crowd realized the true danger involved in the Triwizard Tournament.

No longer was the crowd cheering in delight at the spectacle in front of them; for the first time, many seemed to remember why the tournament had been cancelled a century earlier in the first place.

Minerva listened half-heartedly as Pomona gave her weekly report; focusing on a conflict between two third years that was becoming increasingly malicious.

She sighed; no matter how hard they tried, bullying, it seems, would never be eradicated.

"Thank you, Pomona." Albus said with his usual grace. "Minerva, do you have any updates for us."

Internally, the animagus groaned; she had been dreading this moment for days. It was never fun to express concerns about students in other houses - but she had a duty to do so.

"Late last week I was approached by a student who claimed to witness Professor Avery giving practical instruction to Draco Malfoy and Anthony Goldstein on how to apply the memory charm."

Pomona gasped at the claim while Albus looked impassive, and a look of doubt crossed Septima's face.

"I have known Daniel for eighteen years, Minerva, and I find it highly unlikely that he would teach two fourth years such a dangerous spell." The warding professor stated with skepticism.

Severus nodded his head in agreement; "I am aware that Professor Avery has been instructing several Slytherins in his free time, but their focus has always been on supplementing the students curriculum, not learning how to erase memories from a person's mind."

Albus listened in silence; his eyes lacking their normal twinkle.

"That is a serious accusation, Minerva. I am assuming you have some proof to back these claims up?"

She swallowed hard; she didn't have sufficient proof, but a claim as serious as the one made by Ms. Greengrass could not be taken lightly.

"All I have, Headmaster, is the testimony of a witness who showed me where they were practicing; I have, however, set up the necessary monitoring wards to observe the situation further."

"Minerva, I insist that you reveal the name of your witness." The statement was more of a demand than a question, and she knew she wouldn't be able to ward off both the Ravenclaw and Slytherin heads of house.

In return she offered a kind smile towards the popular Ravenclaw head before glancing towards Severus.

"It was Daphne Greengrass who approached me."

The potions master sneered; "why would she go to you, Minerva? I'm responsible for her well-being while she is at Hogwarts, not you."

"Technically, Severus, every professor is responsible for every child in our care, regardless of house." Albus interrupted gently.

She offered her mentor a gracious smile before returning her attention to the two heads in front of her.

"Apparently Ms. Greengrass worried that if she came to you with an accusation against your godson, the matter would be dismissed outright. It seems she made a wise decision."

Severus made to retort, but Albus stopped him.

"Thank you for the report, Minerva. I will investigate this matter personally."

A few minutes later, the Transfiguration professor exited the teachers' lounge with a smile, never noticing the malicious look being sent her way.

Antonin Dolohov sat quietly at his table, enjoying his mutton as he split his attention between the entrance to Monument Park and the buxom waitress taking orders at the table next to him.

He was bored, he had to admit. While he lusted after battle, and enjoyed planning, he hated waiting, and that's the position he and his comrades found themselves in as they waited for their leaders return.

"Would you like another firewhiskey?" The curly haired waitress asked in a thick Irish accent, interrupting his musings.

"Yes ma'am." He responded, shooting her his most charming smile.

The waitress blushed at the attention, rushing off to grab him another drink.

It was a quarter of an hour later when he saw his mark leaving the shop.

' Well I'll be damned; the rat was right.'

Throwing some galleons on the table, Antonin Dolohov left the small pub and applied a disillusionment charm on himself.

Pettigrew had claimed that his old friend visited the sweet shop at the intersection of Whisper and Diagon Alley's every Tuesday; and he longed to get his own revenge on the man who had killed his wife.

Lord Black was cautious in his movements; erratically zig-zagging in and out of crowds, dipping into sparsely crowded alleyways as he made his way towards the Leaky Cauldron. Tactics implemented only by the paranoid.

Still, he followed quietly from a distance, waiting for his moment to pounce.

Following Black down an empty street that bordered Knockturn Alley, his mark disappeared from view.

Alarm bells went off in the Death Eaters mind as he withdrew his wand and pressed his body against a wall, trying to determine where Black had gone.

To his left, a narrow, dimly lit alley would have taken his target back towards Whisper Alley and the sweet-shop.

Ahead of him and to his right was another side-street that, after several meters, would diverge into three different directions.

Antonin frowned - he had either lost his mark, or he was about to be attacked.

He didn't have to wonder for long, as a black curse with purple tendrils caught him in the leg, causing him to roar out in pain as he felt the effects of the rotting curse immediately begin to take effect.

Antonin had no time to reverse the spell, still finding himself on the defensive.

Unable to dodge, he batted away Blacks first salvo before tapping his head, casting a quick contego shield on his body.

The tingling silver shield contoured itself to his form, absorbing Blacks next two spells with ease.

" Ruo Flagram!" He thought as a black flame whip emerged from his wand.

Blacks eyes widened slightly before he let out a hollow laugh.

"Is that all you've got, Dolohov?"

The dark-haired man let out a snarl, and with inhuman speed he directed the whip at Blacks head, narrowly missing.

The man responded with a series of bone breakers, putting him back on the defensive and rendering his shield useless as he felt several ribs crack.

" Crucio!" Dolohov spit in anger, catching his opponent off guard.

The man in front of him howled, his face contorting as his muscles spasmed in pain, but Black still managed to avoid his killing curse.

Antonin continued to press his advantage, following up with a skin peeler, an organ rupturing curse, and a bone breaker, hitting the pathetic pureblood in the chest, kidneys, and jaw.

Sensing victory, he approached the withering man, hatred radiating from his eyes.

"This is for Petra."He said with a snarl.

But before the final curse could escape his lips, a pained smile swept across the blood-traitors face as he grasped his necklace and disappeared.

Sweat dripped down his face as he dodged a spinning navy-blue curse.

"You're slowing down, Potter!" Snape snapped as the surly potions professor flung acid at him, nearly catching him on his left shoulder as he dove out of the way.

Dueling the long-haired man was a combination of difficult, exhausting, and informative, and while he didn't look forward to their bi-weekly sessions, he had come to see how useful they could be.

Snape ceased firing curses momentarily, allowing him the chance to counter 'Ruo Flagram!' He thought, causing a large, black flame whip to emerge from his wand.

He willed the wild flame towards his opponents torso, only to watch his efforts fail.

"That's how you're going to waste your opportunity, Potter?" The former Death Eater taunted as he easily dissipated the cursed flame.

"Fire whips are for amateurs, boy. Any experienced Death Eater will take advantage of your foolishness. This isn't one of your pathetic school duels!"

Snape's teaching style, he had come to learn, largely revolved around insulting and taunting him while offering the occasional pointer.

All in the name of trying to get him to lose his temper.

"Ignem Aestifer!" The potions master shouted unnecessarily.

It would be easy for Harry to accuse the petty man of taking some cruel pleasure in trying to hurt him, but he had seen past that partial facade - after all, Severus Snape didn't need to annunciate his spells.

He ducked the jet of ugly, cursed fire, only to realize, a little too late, that the fire had been a distraction as he was hit in the chest with a flesh-eating curse, causing him to drop his wand and cry out in pain.

The curse gnawed at his skin as chunks of bloody flesh began to fall off his chest.

"Pathetic, Potter." Snape said with disdain, reversing the curse.

"What the hell was that?" He asked in anger.

While the man's spells always bordered on dangerous, this was the first time the man had used a spell designed to violently kill its opponent.

' Is he trying to kill me?'

He honestly wasn't sure.

The git seemed to read his mind and offered him a cruel smile.

"A curse you would encounter in a life or death battle, Potter. I won't waste my time stroking your ego."

Harry gritted his teeth. "This isn't a real battle! This is practice!"

"Of course it isn't a real battle."

The older man calmly dismissed; the casual way in which he had agreed with him had caught Harry off-guard.

"If this had been a real battle you'd be dead."

The cavalier response caused him to pause.

Despite his hatred of Snape, the man was right, and it made him uncomfortable.

"You're good for a schoolboy, Potter." Snape grudgingly admitted. "But you wouldn't last more than a few minutes against a competent wizard, your fun little trick at the World Cup worked once, but it won't work again."

Harry wanted to argue with the cruel man, but he knew he was right, duels against Tonks and Moody had shown him just how far he still had to go.

"What do I do?" He asked in a defeated tone.

Snape eyed him carefully.

"You are strong, for your age, and you have an effective style." The admission looked as though it pained the pale man.

"But you have a low pain tolerance. The second you get hit with a spell, you lose your concentration. Pain, Potter. You need to experience it, you need to learn to fight when you are at your weakest or you'll never survive."

"What do you suggest I do?" He dreaded the answer.

In response Snape offered him a cruel smile.

" Crucio!"

"What's wrong, Draco?" The soft voice leaning against his chest asked.

Slowly he opened his eyes; "I'm just tired, Stori, that's all." Was his response as he wrapped his arms around her chest protectively.

He could see Astoria offer him a small smile in the windows reflection.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, both enjoying each other's company as they watched the snow dance in the wind outside.

When his father had ordered him to get close to the cute brunette he never would have imagined that he would find himself in this situation.

The younger Greengrass sister hummed in agreement as she leaned against his chest, shutting her own eyes.

" I want you to pursue a relationship with Astoria Greengrass." His father had said. "Get close to her, learn about her family, learn about Potter. "

The girl had been a pleasant surprise, and a welcome distraction from the politics that normally accompanied his everyday life.

Unlike the overbearing Pansy Parkinson, or the desperate Tracy Davis, the younger girl seemed to lack the ulterior motives of their other housemates; she didn't make demands of him, nor did she follow him around, Astoria Greengrass seemed to truly enjoy his company.

It was a welcome change from his day to day, and playing his father's little game was becoming increasingly difficult.

"How's Daphne doing?" He quipped, doing his best to follow his father's orders, but not really caring about her bitch of a sister.

Still, the question lit up the younger Slytherins face, causing him to smile.

"She's as motivated as ever." She groaned. "I admire her determination, but I get exhausted just having lunch with the girl, I don't know how Harry does it."

Potter. It was a disgrace knowing that that disgusting little halfblood was dating such a promising girl.

"Are they still fighting?"

Astoria sighed. "Yes; but neither will tell me why." She scrunched up her nose in annoyance, causing him to smile despite himself.

"Moon seems to think it's a temporary thing." He added.

Amusement danced in her hazel eyes; "I'm sure it is. Daphne told me Gabrielle Delacour asked him to the ball and he said he had a date."

Now that was some new information.

It also reminded him why he was sitting atop the North Tower, watching a snowstorm.

Silently he reached into his pocket, removing a velvet box and passing it to the girl leaning against his chest.

A small look of confusion crossed her pretty face, and another involuntary smile tugged at his lips.

"Open it."

She did so slowly, the contents causing her to gasp in surprise.

"My grandfather gave that to my grandmother before they stepped into society together for the first time." He said, speaking of the beautiful silver and diamond encrusted bracelet.

"I'd like you to wear it when we go to the Yule Ball."

Astoria stayed silent for an agonizingly long moment, contemplating his words before turning around to face him, her chest resting gently on his.

"Of course, Draco." She said with a beautiful smile, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"My dress is emerald and silver, by the way."

And with that, the younger girl stood up and walked away, leaving him alone to be alone with his thoughts.

Lucius's blue eyes took in the proceedings dispassionately as the Wizengamot narrowly passed a bill repealing the limitations on certain potions imports.

The Wizengamot was a terribly boring chamber most days, but today, he thought hopefully, had some potential.

Currently neither his block nor Dumbledore's held a majority in the Wizengamot, due in part to the unexpected volatility in the voting patterns of Houses Black and Potter, who for the last year had shown a surprising amount of independence.

Malfoy caught Albert Runcorn's eye, giving the man a slight nod.

After the next motion they would act.

Lord Boot pounded his gavel three times on his desk, recognizing Lady Bones.

"House Bones would like to bring forth a motion."

Motion 37.1.3.

Wolfsbane potion.

Houses Potter and Black seconded the motion calling the issue to a vote.

"House Flint kindly asks the Chief Warlock to recuse himself from this vote."

Lord Boot recused himself from the proceedings, he knew what was at stake as he quietly stepped out of the room.

This vote could change his family's trajectory.

Octavius Nott, as Minister of Magic, stepped up to oversee the proceedings.

"Lady Bones, you may proceed with your motion."

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement bowed sagely to Octavius, and Lucius had to fight to keep the smile off his face.

' Augustus would love this.'

The former Unspeakable had a bit of an obsession with his old classmate back in the day, he had even been disciplined for groping her in the Ministry.

"House Bones would like to put to vote the legalization of Melisa Boots Llukánthropos na Antistrépsei, more commonly known as the Wolfsbane potion."

Chatter emerged from the Wizengamot, but Nott quickly brought order to the court.

Although Octavius was loyal to the cause, the man was almost too fair as Minister.

This motion had to be quashed, and quickly. They needed to keep the status quo; fortunately, they found themselves in a closed session.

"I have safety concerns in regard to this potion." He said, lacing his voice with a tint of compassion. "The last thing we need is to think that those infected aren't a danger, only to have the potion fail."

A murmur of agreement washed a large portion of the Wizengamot.

"The Wizengamot recognizes Nymphadora Tonks, serving as proxy for Houses Black and Potter."

A younger Bellatrix Lestrange stood elegantly at the front of the room; thick black locks flowing to the small over her back as warm, violet eyes took everyone in.

The dueling champion looked every bit the pureblood princess.

"Would it not be better to allow werewolves to make that choice for themselves? The Ministry could hand out doses to those affected while providing a safe place for them to wait out the night, out of the public's way?"

"We have accrued too much debt to even entertain the idea." Amos Diggory dismissed from off to the side; much to the approval of several other representatives.

' Bless the fiscal conservatives.' He thought with a smile.

But Tonks was prepared. "Houses Black and Potter are prepared to fund the studies and the distribution provided the ministry can provide the security."

Lucius was trapped, and he knew it. Word would get back to the werewolves if the Blacks and Potters supported the study financially, yet the Malfoy's did nothing.

On instinct he began acting.

"I'm inspired." He started, standing up to address the dumbfounded room. "By the graciousness of Houses Black and Potter."

' Dammit .' He thought as Dumbledore transfixed him with an amused look.

"If the Wizengamot will allow it, then the Malfoy Family will pay the salaries of those aurors asked to pick up an extra shift."

A couple of quick glances and his block joined Dumbledore's in passing the resolution. A rare bipartisan victory for the Wizengamot.

He noticed Runcorn shoot a glance across the room, before offering him a nearly imperceptible nod.

' Let the fun begin.'

"The Wizengamot recognizes Albus Dumbledore on issue 164.32c."

Dumbledore stood, facing the chamber with a certain calm confidence, the old man had spent months lobbying the votes necessary to pass his tax hike.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot. Last month you all received a proposal to raise taxes by 4%." Dumbledore started in his usual annoying tone.

You all are aware of the rise in dark activity surging throughout the continent - particularly in Bulgaria - while the attack on the Quidditch World Cup and the breakout at Azkaban have shown a real need to increase spending on our internal security; this tax would pay for that."

Both sides began shouting as he finished reading his motion.

' He wouldn't call for the vote unless he thought he had the votes.'

The motion was granted, and as the votes were being counted, he caught Antonio Goldstein's eye, and smiled.

The motion failed by one vote.

The Dark Lord would be pleased.

Minerva moved the lemon drop around her mouth with her tongue, enjoying the tart, citrusy taste of the yellow candy as she walked towards her classroom after a long end of the month meeting with Albus.

"Minerva!" A slightly out of breath Septima Vector called out from behind her.

She paused, taking a moment to bite into the hard candy, revealing a slightly alcoholic, lemony liquid savoring the taste of the sweet candy as she turned around.

The younger woman was completely disheveled and rambling, gesturing with her hands, her beautiful engagement ring twinkling in the torch light.

"Calm down, Septima." She said, pointing towards an empty room to her right.

The Deputy Headmistress's curiosity was piqued by the appearance of the normally unflappable Runes professor.

She followed the Head of Ravenclaw into the empty classroom.

"Now what is it?" She asked, her voice laced with unabated curiosity.

"It's about what you were talking about the other day in our meeting. I think Ms. Greengrass may have been right to come to you." The woman had calmed immensely since the pair had entered the room, and in the process captured her full attention.

The older woman stared at the Runes Professor intently, waiting for her to speak.

But Minerva McGonagall never heard her response as she felt something puncture her robes, taking her breath away.

Looking down she saw where the dragonhide-handled dagger had penetrated through her robes, straight under her breast and deep into her heart.

She began to shiver as she felt her life drain away.

She felt pain as the dagger twisted cruelly, causing her to cry out silently.

The last thing Minerva McGonagall saw before succumbing to the darkness was the cruel smile of Septima Vector.