12

Chapter 12

"So, have you learned your lesson?" Harry asked calmly.

"Yes!" Sobbed the Sorting Hat. "Please! Please, no more, no more," it subsided into whimpers.

Harry smirked and reached into the hat, pulling out the books he'd placed in there as agreed. Admittedly, his punishment might have been a bit harsh, but the blasted Hat had derailed so many of his plans that he was feeling vindictive.

"Now, do you have any information for me?"

"Dumbledore muttered something about Sirius Black. He doesn't like you being in Slytherin and wants to do something about it. I don't know what, or what Black has to do with it, but I'd be careful. He also wasn't pleased you killed the troll. He was thrilled you went to rescue a fellow student, such a good little hero, you were," Albert cooed, then continued, "but you were a bit more aggressive than he'd anticipated. He doesn't like that you can kill something so calmly."

Harry hummed thoughtfully.

"Anything else?"

"Severus has approached Dumbledore about Quirrell; he believes that Quirrell may be working for the Dark Lord. He's on the right track, but it's closer to a partial possession I think. Dumbledore seems aware of it, but isn't taking action. I suspect it's because of whatever he's hidden away on the third floor. Regardless, something is wrong with Quirinus. I can't confirm what, but I'm certain it's not good; it's definitely a threat to the students."

"Alright, thank you, Albert."

Harry pulled out a new bundle of books, and slid them into the hat. Hooking the edge of the hat onto a long wooden pole, he carefully extended it into the room, ensuring that no part of his body crossed the line of the open window. The rod lifted the hat back onto his corner of the shelf, and then withdrew slowly. The portraits kept chatting away to themselves, oblivious.

It was quite a handy little loophole that Harry had found. He had noticed that the window was always open, to allow Fawkes to come and go as he pleased, and had charms and wards across it to prevent insects or gusts of wind from getting in. As long as nothing living crossed the ward line, nothing would trigger the alert. So, a long pole to lift the hat in and out of the window, and disillusionment and notice-me-not charms on himself and a broom outside the window, and he was set. It was almost disgusting how easy it was.

Harry tipped the broom, landed gracefully and after concealing it in his cuff again, moved closer to the Entrance Hall before dropping the charms. Sauntering casually toward the dungeons with his hands in his pockets, he found himself whistling cheerfully. The slightly fearful looks from a trio of passing Hufflepuffs had him grinning in amusement.

"Boo," he deadpanned, chuckling when they jumped and scattered like startled sheep. He really shouldn't frighten the poor dears if he planned to recruit some of them, but it was just so easy sometimes.

The air of the dungeons was cool and damp, and Harry let his hand trail along the wall as he walked, enjoying his unusually good mood.

A movement in the shadows caught his eye, and he watched, bemused, as Warthog stalked out of the gloom, padding quietly past him studiously looking anywhere but at her bonded wizard.

"Warthog?" Harry asked slowly. "Why is Mrs Norris riding on your back?"

"Not. One. Word."

"I see. Well for what it's worth, I think you make a mighty steed." Hearing his familiars snarl, Harry laughed and dashed the rest of the way to the Slytherin Common Room before she could take a swipe at him.

Dumbledore and Snape stood next to the window in Dumbledore's office, watching as Harry and Draco smiled and socialised with a group of Ravenclaws. It was clear, even from a distance, that the young Potter Heir was quickly drawing the other students into his orbit, and that it wouldn't be long until he'd added to his faithful following.

The Headmaster frowned, reminded far too strongly of another charismatic young man. This was potentially problematic.

"Is there a reason you called me here, Albus?" Snape finally broke the silence.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Please, take a seat."

The two men settled themselves on opposite sides of the desk, forgoing their usual tea.

"Severus, what is your assessment of young Harry?"

Snape held back the heavy sigh building in his chest, maintaining his impassive façade. He'd known this conversation was coming, and was in fact surprised it had taken so long to occur. That didn't mean he was going to make it easy for the old goat.

"You already have my report from the staff meeting; I fail to see why I should deliver it orally as well." He added a faint scowl for good measure, inwardly smirking at the flash of annoyance in the twinkling blue eyes opposite.

"Yes, your report on him as a teacher was somewhat surprising. As I recall you stated that he had a whiff of potential if he could ever overcome his arrogance long enough to learn something. High praise indeed! However, we both know that is not what I'm asking about." Dumbledore's gaze was unwavering, and Severus knew that play time was over. The question was, how did he want to twist this? He had yet to make a decision about the offer that Potter had made him.

"He's intelligent," he finally allowed slowly. "Whoever his adopted father is, they've put time into training him."

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened.

"What kind of training?"

Snape took a moment to observe the man who had held his leash for the last decade. He'd never particularly liked the old man, but at the time he'd been the only option. Now, however, he had a way to escape, to actually live a life of his own if he chose. He thought back to the card he'd been given, carefully tucked away in the secret pocket inside his robes. The stylized V over an otherwise blank shield shimmered in the middle of the plain white card, leaving no doubt who the card belonged to. Anyone who had even the shallowest of dealings with the seedier side of the wizarding world knew that symbol nowadays. And yet, for all Vahan's growing influence, one thing had been clear from the very beginning; he looked after his people. He was no soft touch, that was blatantly obvious, but if you gave your loyalty to him, he would never abuse it.

The same could not be said for Dumbledore. The old man moved people like chess pieces, and it had been apparent from the start that he had some sort of strategy in mind involving The-Boy-Who-Lived. Given the death toll from the central figures in the last war, Severus didn't hold out much hope for the boy's survival if he rested his life in Dumbledore's wrinkled old hands.

The question was, just how was Potter connected to the illusive Crime Lord that had non-affiliated scumbags shivering in terror?

'They work for me.'

He had his suspicions, but only time would tell. Either way, nobody was stupid enough to falsely claim association; not if they wanted to live.

"Publicity," he said, making up his mind. "He's been taught how to manage people. I'd say it's the same sort of training diplomats would get, though scaled down appropriate for his age. He's no expert, but I'd say his father wanted him to be able to manage his fans and fame without panicking."

"I see," Dumbledore leaned back with a frown, stroking his beard. "Have you been able to uncover anything about the man who adopted him?"

"Nothing yet," Severus lied. "I've a few rumours, but nothing concrete enough to report."

Dumbledore pursed his lips, thinking. This wasn't going the way he'd planned at all, and would require some careful manoeuvring to fix. The boy was too important to allow him to slip away, especially in these early days of the game.

"Thank you, Severus, that will be all for now."

The younger man nodded and stood, sweeping out of the room and down the stairs, heading directly for his quarters. He had a letter to write.

Harry stood next to his bed, sorting through his books and assignments before placing some in his bag and withdrawing others. He had a study session tonight, and had managed to convince both Cedric Diggory and the Weasley Twins to join them. The only problem he could see with the arrangement was Hermione.

The girl had settled a little with the usual group, focusing more on her own work and not trying to arrange everything for the others, but her need to show off her intelligence was likely to make a resurgence in the presence of older students. She had a lot of potential, but her personality and rigid beliefs about certain topics didn't do her any favours. She'd need a lot of work before she was anything close to usable; though her devotion since the troll incident was useful and gave him something to work with.

Leaving the unneeded books scattered on his bed, he grabbed his bag and strolled to the library. He was a little late, but he wanted to see how his group was interacting without him there, and the older students wouldn't be arriving for another half hour.

"Granger, the assignment is a one foot. You can't submit three!"

Harry sighed. 'And so it begins,' he thought wryly.

"Zabini, just because you're content doing the bare minimum of work doesn't mean the rest of us are!"

Deciding to interrupt before the argument could get them thrown out of the library, Harry approached and set his bag down.

"You guys were getting pretty loud. Is everything alright?"

Hermione and Zabini were glaring at each other over piles of reference books, and looked to be seconds away from growling at each other like a pair of brawling junkyard mutts.

Both children turned to him and began babbling, each trying to get their point across over the top of the other.

"She's being totally-"

"And he won't-"

"But they-"

"And then he-"

Harry held up a hand, pleased when they instantly fell silent.

"Hermione, Zabini, we can discuss it after we're finished here for the night. In the meantime, please let it rest before you get our entire group thrown out of the library." For all that he maintained a pleasant expression, his voice was cold and firm, and he could see Draco flinch slightly at his side. The sight had him fighting down a smirk; it was good to know that the blonde hadn't gotten complacent.

Hermione looked to be about to argue, but quickly reconsidered when she saw the glare from Madam Pince aimed in their direction. Zabini settled back quietly, seemingly content to follow orders in this case, much to Harry's surprise. Perhaps he was further along in his recruitment of the young Italian than he'd thought?

Settling himself at the table, and waiting for Draco to do the same to his right as usual, he pulled out his homework planner. He waited until everyone in the group had settled back to work and the Librarian had stopped glaring at them, before softly clearing his throat.

"We have a trio of third years joining us shortly. If we work well together then they'll join us regularly."

He could see Hermione starting to puff up, her hands inching towards the pile of books in front of her.

"Hermione, please remember that they are here to study WITH us, not tutor us in advanced work. If you have questions about the work you're currently doing, then by all means ask for clarification as usual, but please limit it to that for these sessions. They have their own work to do as well."

The girl practically whined in frustration, but didn't question the order, settling down and returning to her own work. Harry mused that it was promising how she's taken two orders from him without question in the past fifteen minutes. He'd have to find something to reward her for her cooperation.

Working quietly, they ploughed through their homework, comparing notes in quiet whispers and coaching each other through trouble spots. Harry kept watch over his little group, pleased to see how well they were all interacting. Even Crabbe and Goyle had come out of their shells somewhat, becoming more active members. They were still quiet, particularly if people outside their usual group were around, but now they didn't hold back or hide their intelligence from the people at the table. They'd also become visibly protective of every member currently sitting with them, even going so far as to defend both Thomas and Hermione from the youngest Weasley boy and his Irish sidekick. The incident had been immediately reported to Harry, who was privately thrilled that they'd come to him rather than Draco. He considered it progress.

He glanced up, spotting the expected third years entering the library. Raising a hand to draw their attention, he made sure the space to his left was clear for them to settle. The table that the group had claimed as their own was actually two pushed together, and conveniently, there were three seat free at the end.

"Diggory, Weasley's," Harry greeted them as the older boys settled next to him.

"Potter," they nodded back, pulling out their work, and smiling to everyone else at the table.

Harry took a moment to cast a glance at Hermione, silently reminding her to behave herself. The girl dropped her eyes and kept her silence, earning herself a pat on the arm from Thomas, who was sitting next to her.

Diggory groaned quietly as he glanced at his homework planner.

"Oh, Merlin, this assignment is going to kill me!"

The Twins nodded in agreement.

"What's the assignment?" Harry asked, jotting the few last points onto his Potions essay and casting a drying charm at the ink.

"Herbology," Diggory whispered. "We have to do three feet on the Incubus Datura metel."

Neville perked up, which earned a small smile from the other first years.

"I can help with that," he whispered excitedly. "I have a couple of those in the greenhouse at home. They're amazing plants, really, and surprisingly useful!"

"Neville is a budding Herbology prodigy, if you'll excuse the pun," Harry explain to the surprised looking third years. "If he says he can help you, then he can."

The boy in question blushed, but puffed up under the praise.

Harry glanced at Goyle, who wordlessly stood, switching chairs with the Longbottom Heir. There was a bit of shuffling as they moved their belongings, but in short order the chubby boy was settled opposite Harry, and leaning in to discuss the details of the essay requirements.

Harry found himself whispering with Draco, coaching him through a Transfiguration problem, while Zabini worked with Thomas, Crabbe and Goyle on their History. Hermione was scribbling frantically, seemingly trying to include an entire textbooks worth of notes into whatever assignment she was working on. Eying it warily, Harry reinforced his mental note to speak with her and Zabini after study was finished for the night.

The quiet of the library was soothing, and the third years slipped into the group dynamic as if they'd always been a part of it. The Weasley twins eyed Harry speculatively every now and again, but Harry ignored it, focusing on his work. He knew they were curious about what he could possibly be trying to recruit them for, but he wanted to draw them in a little more first, binding them into the group and if possible, begin earning their loyalty. He'd done his research on them, and he already had several ideas for possible ways to use their skills.

Two hours passed, and the group finally called it quits for the night. It wasn't quite curfew, but it was close enough that they didn't have a lot of time to linger in the halls, especially if Harry was going to sort out the issue between Hermione and Zabini.

Packing up their materials, Neville, Thomas, and Diggory moved to return the books to the shelves, while the rest of the group collected their things for them.

"When's your next study group?" Fred asked, George waiting expectantly next to him.

"Wednesday after dinner. At the moment we're meeting Wednesdays, and Fridays, and a few of us meet informally on Saturdays after lunch if we have something we want to work on, but that isn't an 'official' session. Will you be joining us again?" Harry peered up expectantly, his green eyes large and hopeful behind his glasses.

"I know I will," Diggory interjected, coming up behind the twins and picking his bag up from the table. "I would have been here all night on that Herbology essay without Neville's help."

Neville, who had returned at the same time, blushed and stared at his feet, mumbling something undistinguishable.

Diggory looked at the embarrassed boy and smiled kindly.

"Is it alright if I call you Neville? I know you didn't invite me to, but I'd like to think we could be friends? You can all call me Cedric, too; I don't mind."

The twins shared a glance, and threw their arms around Neville's shoulders.

"We'll be back-"

"Too, so you may as-"

"Well call us Gred-"

"And Forge."

Neville smiled shyly, and nodded his agreement.

The other first years eyed each other, then shrugged.

"We spend all our time together anyway, we may as well just agree to all use our first names," Zabini drawled, looking bored as he hitched his satchel onto his shoulder.

Harry watched quietly as everyone nodded in agreement. The group was already pulling together, even outside of study and he was very pleased to see it. Vahan's current Inner Circle wouldn't be around forever, and it was highly likely that these children would form the core of their replacements when the time came. In the meantime, they would need to be drawn even closer to Harry, and he would need to shape them into something useable. Behind his calm expression, his mind raced, making plans.

The group said their goodbyes, disbursing to their respective common rooms, though Harry made sure to grab Hermione and Zabini, ushering them into one of the multitude of abandoned classrooms that seemed to fill Hogwarts halls.

He ignored Draco following them into the room, and settled against a desk, leaving the blond to shut the door after they'd all filed in.

"Now, let's get this settled before we get caught out after curfew. Zabini - Blaise, you start first."

Hermione huffed and opened her mouth, but a narrow eyed glance from Draco was enough to settle her for the moment.

"I was trying to do my charms assignment, and she kept shoving more and more books at me saying that I wasn't including enough references, and that if I wanted to raise my grades 'to an acceptable level' then I needed to provide more than what was asked for to demonstrate my knowledge and research skills. I'm in the top ten students across the board, and I have an EE average! I don't appreciate being told what to do by someone who's sabotaging their own grades because they want to show off! And when I tried to tell her why she keeps losing marks on her assignments, she just shouts at me! She's impossible!"

He might have continued his rant, had Harry not raised a hand.

"So you're saying that you feel that your grades are acceptable, her attempts at assisting you were counter-productive, and your own attempts to help her were not received in the spirit they were intended?"

Blaise nodded sulkily.

"Alright, Hermione?"

The girl could barely contain herself, and angrily burst into speech, her voice tight and shrill as she fought back tears.

"I was just trying to help! You're always encouraging us to help each other, and I was trying! I'm not good at anything other than classwork and research, so how am I supposed to help if every time I try I just get shouted at? And besides, if we don't show that we thoroughly understand the material, how can the Professors grade us appropriately? My dad says you should always do more than asked for because it's a mark of good character!"

Harry sighed tiredly. He really was too exhausted to be playing mediator to a couple of squabbling children.

"I think I understand the issue. To summarise, you feel that your only contribution is academic, and you don't want to be a burden. Your excessive amount of work is due to your attempts to prove your worth; does that sound about right?"

Hermione wilted slightly under the harsh phrasing, but nodded quietly.

"Ok, firstly; the next time you have issues with each other and it's escalating, take it out of the library so that you don't disturb the rest of the group. Don't drag them into your fights, it has nothing to do with them, and they shouldn't have to suffer through their own work being disturbed. Secondly, Blaise, do you want to raise your average?"

The Italian gave a half-hearted shrug and a head jiggle that could be vaguely interpreted as a nod.

"If you do, then working with Hermione will help you increase your research skills at the very least. You should take advantage of her offered help. Hermione," he turned to look at the sulking girl, "Blaise has a point about the length of your submitted work. Tell me, how many students are at Hogwarts right now?"

"Approximately 1500," the girl answered promptly.

"And if we use Charms as an example, how many students are taking that?"

"At least a thousand, since some students choose not to continue it after OWLs."

"Exactly. Ignoring the difference in level and volume of work required from the upper years, let's assume that every student is tasked with one essay a week. That means that the Professor has to read and mark approximately 1000 feet of essays every week. Now, if students submitting work three times the requested length each and every time, do you think the Professor would truly appreciate the effort, or do you think they would resent it?"

He paused, waiting for the girl to process that, and felt a moment of relief when she looked stricken.

"Additionally, part of the assignment requirement is a specific length. This means that not only do you need to demonstrate your knowledge, you need to be able to do it clearly and concisely within a given framework. It's not always enough to know something, sometimes you have to show you know something in a way that doesn't bore your audience. For example, if I asked you what the weather was like today, would you say it was sunny? Or would you spend three hours explaining the science of meteorology behind weather prediction, and how it affects fashion choices in today's society?"

Hermione's eyes bugged out, her mouth dropping into a shocked little 'o'.

"I've been costing myself marks because my assignments were too long and had too much information?"

Blaise nodded, relieved.

"That's what I was trying to say! You can always include an inch at the bottom with a list of further resources or reading; the Professors wouldn't mind that, and it shows the thoroughness of your research without making them hate you for the extra work you're making them do."

Hermione turned watery eyes onto Blaise.

"I'm so sorry I didn't listen!"

"Good, so you both get it now? Argument over?" Harry asked quietly, rubbing his eye under his glasses. At their nods, he glanced at his watch. "It's nearly curfew. We won't have time to walk you back to your dorm, Hermione, I'm sorry."

"That's alright, I don't need to be escorted everywhere!" The girl scowled, folding her arms defiantly.

"I would prefer you were, especially at this time of night; especially since I know that you're still being picked on. Not to mention that you're officially under the protection of House Longbottom, which is trusting Houses Malfoy, Potter, and Zabini with your protection in Neville's absence. It's kind of a big deal, even if you don't see it like that. It's our responsibility to make sure you're returned 'home' safely."

Harry thought for a moment. Normally he'd send Zabini - Blaise, damn it - to escort her since this was partially his mess to clean up, but that would leave the young Slytherin to traverse the entire castle alone on the edge of curfew. Slytherins didn't walk alone even in the middle of the day, it just wasn't safe given how vilified the House of Snakes was. To have a first year do so at this time of night was asking for a trip to the hospital wing. Of course, he and Draco could join the group, but that would be overkill for this situation, and send the wrong message about Hermione's position in the group.

In a moment of inspiration, he reached for the bond to Warthog. He couldn't speak to her through it, but a gentle tug against it let her know that she was needed. He felt her tug back in acknowledgement and relaxed.

"Was there anything else that needed addressing urgently?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione bit her lip and shifted, drawing their attention.

"Where can I find out more about this Protection thing? If even having me walk alone could be an issue, I need to know more about it. I mean, I'm not some fainting damsel in distress and I don't want to be treated like one, but if this is as big a deal as you say I should probably learn more so I don't cause problems or embarrass Neville."

The three Slytherins smiled at her proudly, and she blushed.

"I'm glad you're willing to learn before jumping to conclusions," Harry complimented her, Draco nodding at his side.

"It's a good sign that you're willing to learn, so you don't make the same mistakes you did at the start," Draco offered. "I can recommend some books for you to look up. I'll give you a list tomorrow."

"I'd be happy to help explain anything you don't understand, though you'll need to sit down with the Longbottoms and your parents to arrange the details of the agreement before it can be made official. As Heir, Neville can offer it and it will be enforced, but as Regent, his grandmother has to negotiate the specifics with your legal guardians." Blaise jumped in, not wanting to be outdone. It was obvious that Harry had plans for this little muggleborn, and while he wasn't entirely sure he wanted in on whatever the boy was working towards, he hadn't decided he wanted out yet either.

Hermione wasn't given time to respond, since Warthog chose that moment to materialize from the shadows and stroll over to Harry, sitting casually next to her human as if she hadn't just miraculously appeared in an effectively locked room with zero effort.

The girl yelped, starting violently. Draco and Blaise weren't any less startled, but managed to control their reactions to a slight twitch and a hitched breath.

Harry glanced at his smug familiar out of the corner of his eye, but didn't comment on her appearance.

"Warthog, would you please escort Hermione back to her Common Room?"

The puma dipped her head in a nod, and moved next to the lightly shaking girl, standing next to her patiently. It wasn't until that moment that Harry really noticed that Warthog was significantly larger than a typical example of her species. Where a normal Cougar would reach approximately mid-thigh on an adult, his familiar stood approximately hip height, and carried a lot more defined muscle than most; this left her standing roughly equal to Hermione's armpit. Her brilliant blue eyes shone in the flickering torch light, and the young wizard found himself eyeing her appreciatively. She really was beautiful.

Hermione shifted nervously.

"Um, Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione?" The boy teased back.

"She won't, ah, do anything, will she?" Hermione bit her lip, her overly large beaver-like teeth sticking out unfortunately.

Harry smiled when Warthog gave an amused chuff.

"To you? Nothing beyond ensuring you go straight to your Common Room and actually go inside. If someone tries to hurt you, she'll deter them." He stood, ignoring Hermione's increasingly frantic demands for clarification, taking his bag from Draco and slinging it over his shoulder. Blaise opened the door, and waited until they'd all exited before following them and closing the door again.

The boys waited until Warthog had ushered the young girl down the hallway, then made their way down to the dungeons, making it to their Common Room with barely a minute and a half to spare.

The Common Room was pleasantly warm, easing away the damp chill that pervaded the rest of the dungeon corridors. Nott was sitting by the fire, and scowled when he saw the group enter. It was obvious that he'd been hoping to get them in trouble if they were even a minute late; for all that Slytherin was famous for their cunning, the little rat boy was not exactly subtle.

They trooped into the dorms, dropping their things onto their respective beds and flopping down.

Draco ended up draped on Harry's bed, and absently picked up the pile of books he'd left there earlier. Pulling one from the pile, he frowned as he flicked through it.

"Hey, Harry?"

Harry hummed absently, beginning to strip off his uniform in preparation for a shower.

"Why do you have the Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes with the last chapter of each story ripped out?"