14

Chapter 14

Christmas morning found Harry curled up in his bed with Warthog wrapped around him. She'd managed to arrange herself so that he was using her belly as a pillow, and given that he'd woken curled up in a ball, she was able to bend herself around him as if she was some kind of protective prawn. He couldn't find it in himself to be irritated, given that she was purring softly under his head, and he was unusually comfortable.

Forcing himself fully awake, he prodded his overgrown house brat, er, cat.

"Wake up."

"No."

"It's Christmas."

"So? Neither of us actually care about that. Let me sleep."

"So you don't want your present then?"

Warthog cracked an eye.

Harry blinked up at her guilelessly.

"… Gimme."

Harry snorted slightly, and dug himself out of his nest of blankets, pillows, and uncooperative puma.

Ignoring the pile of presents at the end of his bed (a tradition he understood in a communal living situation like the dorms, but still abhorred) he stepped lightly into the slippers he'd demanded from Alex the first time he'd set foot on the morning chilled stone.

Opening his trunk, he pulled out a respectably large box wrapped in forest green paper with a midnight blue ribbon that glittered with pricks of silver and matched the constellations.

"Here you go. Merry Christmas, or whatever."

Warthog chuffed a laugh, and nosed curiously at the box. A glance at her wizard told her that he wasn't going to help her open it; most likely because the sadistic brat wanted to watch her frustration as she tried to figure out how to do it without thumbs.

A heavy swipe of her claws had the box shredded in moments, and she cast a smug look at the totally-not-pouting-honest boy. Nosing the paper aside and nudging the lid off the top of the box, she peered down.

"You didn't."

Harry smirked.

"Seriously?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a very enthusiastic blond.

"Harry! Oh good, you're awake!" Draco threw himself onto the bed next to Warthog, and looked up at Harry excitedly. "How many presents did you get? I bet it was heaps. Of course you got heaps! Have you opened any yet? What did you get?"

Harry waited patiently through Draco's excited babbling. It was times like this that he was reminded of just how young and sheltered the other boy was, even after all his time being groomed by Harry.

"I haven't looked at my presents yet," he commented calmly. Draco's gobsmacked expression had him fighting down a giggle. The blond couldn't have looked more shocked if a monkey had slapped him with a fish.

"You seem to have a significant pile yourself," Harry observed.

Draco lit up, and bounced over to his own bed, shouting wake up calls to the other boys in the dorm. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle all grumbled sleepily, but quickly forgot their ire when they caught sight of their own piles of presents.

Out of the entire dorm, only Nott had decided to go home for the break; the others seeming reluctant to part from Harry. He had to admit to being surprised at how quickly they'd attached themselves to him, though he was still unsure about Blaise.

Harry applied his Warm Smile #2 at the exclamations of joy his gifts elicited from the other boys, and he made a mental note that every single one of them had dug through their piles to locate and open his gift first. He was pleased by this; it was a very clear message since they had opened his before even looking at the ones from their families.

"Don't forget to open your own," Warthog prompted him quietly.

Harry hummed in agreement, and reached for his own pile. He knew that he would have many more gifts waiting for him at both Fortress and the Nest, so he wasn't offended by the small pile that graced his bed. It was considerably larger than he'd expected though, but a quick glance at the gift tags revealed that the bulk were likely token gifts from the large number of students he'd taken the time to network with at the school.

He grabbed a notebook and fountain pen from his bedside table and set it aside to make notes of who had gifted him what, knowing that Alex would give him a Severely Disapproving Look if he didn't.

He quickly sorted the pile, and fished out the gift from Draco. Given that the blond boy was effectively his 2IC at Hogwarts, the show of favour was important. The luxuriously thick paper was removed to reveal an exquisitely crafted set of leather thigh sheaths, and a set of magically balanced throwing knives. There were six knives in each sheath, and the hand written information leaflet that came with them explained that they were charmed to be ever sharp and unbreakable, would automatically return to their sheaths when a particular rune on the leather was tapped, and that six of the twelve had a thin vein that could be loaded with a potion or poison if desired.

Harry was dazzled by the extravagant and very thoughtful gift, and made sure to express his pleasure to Draco, who beamed happily at the praise.

He hesitated slightly, unnoticed by the other boys, over which to open next. He eventually settled for pulling Crabbe and Goyle's gifts out next, and placed them next to each other to show their equal standing. He could feel Blaise's eyes sitting heavily on him, but ignored it. He was sure his message had gotten through.

Crabbe had bought him a scarf and glove set, high end and heavily charmed for warmth, durability, and comfort. Harry made his approval clear, and smiled gently at the shy boy. Since Harry had found the problem of his cleft palate - and seriously, what were the chances of such a rare condition showing up in two people Harry knew? - the boy had been devoted to Harry. He'd even managed to lose a bit of weight, since eating was easier now. He was still quiet though, both he and Goyle having decided to maintain their act of being dumb muscle.

Goyle's gift was surprisingly humorous, in that he'd given Harry a set of magically loaded dice, a set of playing cards that would tell their owner what hand the other players had been dealt, and a truly gorgeous silk tie that would change colour and pattern to suit whatever outfit you paired it with.

Harry glanced up and met Blaise's burning gaze, and quirked an eyebrow. The Italian boy clenched his jaw, and looked away for a moment before determinedly meeting Harry's eyes. Harry allowed a smirk to slowly slide across his lips. Oh yes, Blaise was coming along nicely.

He plucked out Blaise's gift, and deftly opened it. A beautiful wooden box the size of his hand lay inside the paper. It was inlayed with an intricate pattern, and oiled to a high sheen. The catch was made of a polished stone of some sort rather than the traditional metal, and Harry ran a finger over it curiously. It was smooth, but warm to the touch.

Harry went to open it, but cursed when a hidden needle pricked his finger, drawing a drop of blood which smeared onto the stone before being absorbed. The young crime lord lifted furious eyes to Blaise, whipping his wand out and pointing at the drastically paling boy.

Warthog was immediately by his side, snarling angrily, hard eyes fixed on the idiot boy who'd dared to do such a thing to her wizard.

Draco glanced up, and seeing a trace of red on Harry's finger quickly followed his reaction and pointed his own wand at the boy he'd considered a friend.

Crabbe and Goyle didn't understand what was going on, but they knew all they needed to. Harry was pointing his wand at Blaise, and that made Blaise a threat. Throwing themselves off their beds, which conveniently were on either side of Blaise's, they grabbed him and twisted his arms out to the side, each with a hand on one shoulder.

Blaise's eyes were wide, and he whined in pain as his shoulders, elbows, and wrist joints were all twisted just shy of dislocation.

"It's not what you think!" He shouted desperately. "It's a Blood Key!"

"Explain," Harry growled.

"Oh Merlin," Blaise whimpered. "You know what my mother is infamous for, right? Well she's been teaching me stuff, and she taught me how to make different poisons! The box has six vials of very illegal poisons inside, and I had the box custom made to protect them! The lock was just taking a sample of your blood to key it to you, I swear! Anytime you open the box it will sample your blood, and if you're not keyed to the box it will destroy the contents!"

Harry eyed the panicking boy, before examining the tip of his finger critically. He didn't feel any tell-tale signs of poison or controlling potions, but that didn't mean much. Holding out the finger to Warthog, he let his familiar sniff his bloodied digit carefully.

"It's clean. I can't smell anything on it, but you should have Marcel check you thoroughly just in case; no sense taking chances."

Nodding in agreement, Harry lowered his wand.

"Zabini, you will be accompanying Draco and I. Get dressed."

Draco caught his eye and raised a questioning eyebrow, before he worked out what Harry was planning. A sharp nod and the blond was throwing his clothes on as quickly as he could.

Crabbe and Goyle released Blaise when Harry nodded, and went back to their own beds, digging through their piles of gifts and trusting that Harry had the situation well in hand.

Blaise slumped bonelessly onto his bed when the two larger boys let him go, taking a moment to pull himself together. His mother would be horrified at his lack of composure, but if he was perfectly honest, Harry scared him a lot more than the Widow Zabini did. Plus, Harry was here, and she wasn't. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself together as best he could and stripped off his pyjamas, dressing in his day clothes. His hand hovered over his favourite wine red silk button up shirt, before deciding that all black might be more appropriate. Not to mention that if he was going to die - a distinct possibility - he wanted something that wouldn't show the blood too badly. Death was no excuse to look anything less than his best.

Harry scrawled a quick note, tearing it from his notebook and placing it in the hidden cache in Warthogs collar. All of her collars had several little pockets the same as Harry's cuffs, however they were hidden in such a way that the puma could carry immense amounts of supplies or correspondence between Vahan's Inner Circle with nobody else any the wiser.

A dip of her head, and Warthog was darting out of the room and disappearing into the shadows, making her way to Fortress at top speed. Marcel would be there to greet her wizard the moment he arrived, if she had to drag him there by the scruff.

Harry and Draco took an extra moment to gather up their gifts, knowing that Connor was unlikely to allow them to leave before lunch time.

Exiting the room, a subdued Blaise trailing half a step behind Draco, the trio traipsed up the stairs and out of the castle. It was early enough that the morning light was still barely above the horizon, and as such there was nobody out and about to see them prod at a knot on the base of the murderous willow tree and dart into a tunnel at its base.

Harry was gratified to find both of his Hounds, Jinky, Brix, and even Snake waiting for him at the door with Warthog and Marcel. Sweeping past them, he went straight to the infirmary, and sat on a bed, holding his hand out to Marcel to check.

Draco followed, a firm hand pressing Blaise onto a chair against the wall and ensuring he didn't panic and run away.

"Where's Shot?" Harry asked, not looking away from the scans Marcel was performing.

"She's with Alice. With so many excited children there right now she thought an extra pair of hands might be helpful, so she stayed there last night." Alex answered calmly.

Harry nodded, and relaxed once Marcel gave him the all clear. Turning a cold gaze onto the still trembling Blaise, he gestured imperiously. Waiting until the boy was standing in front of him, he stared at him intensely, watching the child squirm at the heavy silence.

"That was a very stupid thing you did," he eventually stated, "though I do appreciate the gift. Next time, I would suggest warning me beforehand, yes?"

Blaise nodded frantically, well aware of the heavy gazes levelled on him by the very scary men and absolutely terrifying House Elves. The one in the strange all black uniform looked like it was ready to tear him limb from limb and leave the mess as a warning, while the older one looked on with disapproving eyes that left him feeling smaller than when his mother attempted the same.

"Yes, you're right, I absolutely should have, and I'm very very sorry and please don't kill me because I've decided that whatever it is that you're doing I want in and I can't do that if I'm dead." He heaved in a breath, panting slightly.

Draco snorted quietly next to Alex and rubbed a finger over his upper lip to hide his smirk.

Harry huffed slightly in amusement.

"Well then. If you're serious, Alex here will put a gag spell on you to protect my information, and we can give you a trial period. I have no desire to surround myself with stupid people, so be sure not to make such a foolish mistake again. You won't be warned a second time."

Alex drew his wand and flicked it at Blaise, then again to ensure the spell had properly taken hold.

"Stay here, Marcel will do a complete scan of you for his files; you'll need his services eventually if you work for me, and a proper baseline is vital. We'll send for you shortly. I'd suggest not leaving that bed without an escort, it won't end well for you if you try." With those ominous words, Harry and his entourage left the room.

If Blaise had any doubts that Harry was serious about his warning, the disturbingly bloodthirsty look on Draco's face was enough to convince him that sitting right there on the bed was the most wonderful idea in the world. He had once entertained the idea that the Malfoy Heir would be an ally, but one look at that expression told him everything he needed to know. Draco would never betray Harry, and would gleefully torture or kill even his closest friends with a fervour as great as the most rabid Death Eaters in the last war, on the other boy's whim.

Marcel looked down at the Zabini Heir.

"Good luck kid; you're going to need it." A flick of his wand, and he began compiling the data on his latest patient.

"Sir!"

Connor's joyous shout rang through the sitting room where Harry and his Hounds, and Draco, were waiting.

Harry looked up from the report the Smith golem had handed him, and put it aside. It wasn't urgent, and he was really just killing time until the Corkscrew Menace woke up.

"Good morning, Connor. Did you sleep well?" Harry grunted a little in pain as Connor flung himself into his arms, a bony shoulder driving into his gut in the younger boy's enthusiasm.

"Yes Sir! I didn't know you were going to be here this early! I mean, I knew you were coming today, you said you would, and you always keep your promises, but I thought it would only be an hour or so before you went back to Hogwarts for lunch! But you did say that we were going to the Nest this afternoon, so I didn't expect to get much time with you today, but you're here! We can open our presents together! Will you stay for breakfast after, or do you have to get back to Hogwarts? I know you said that you have to make appearances at meals so they don't realise you're sneaking out of school but I was hoping we might have time to spar a little, and for me to show you the new song I learned on piano! I've been practicing super hard every day, I promise! But I don't mind, it's super fun, and I really love it. Thank you so much for letting me learn!"

Harry waited patiently for the noise to stop and for Connor to finally draw breath. It honestly amazed him how large the child's lung capacity was, and the fitter the Hounds training made him, the longer he seemed to be able to talk. It was a little disconcerting, if Harry was going to be honest.

"I'll join you for breakfast. I can get away with skipping breakfast at Hogwarts, but I absolutely must be back for lunch. I'll return after and then we will go to the Nest together for the afternoon. Did you want to stay with them for dinner? I won't be able to join, but you're welcome to stay there if you wish. I'm sure the Hounds won't mind, will you?" He directed this last at Sergei and Alex, who both shook their heads. Turning back to Connor, Harry continued. "We'll be having another guest join us for presents and breakfast, but he won't be coming to the Nest, and I'd like you to avoid mentioning it in his presence."

Connor nodded vigorously.

"I can do that! Or, um, not do that!" The boy looked at the ground as he puzzled through that for a moment, then shrugged slightly and looked back up. "Anything else? Should I not call you Sir?"

Harry smiled fondly and ruffled the boy's completely untamed bedhead.

"Business as usual otherwise, kiddo. He's on a trial period at the moment, but if he proves himself he'll become one of my Hounds eventually."

He could feel Draco staring with burning intensity at the side of his face, and decided that he should probably explain to the blond boy before he got it into his head to do something stupid.

"Connor, why don't you go start opening your gifts?" He smiled at the eight year old as he jumped off Harry's lap and practically sprinted to the tree, tearing into his presents. Alex stepped in to ensure he made a note of who gifted what so they could be properly thanked, and Sergei took one look at Harry and Draco before wandering over to the tree as well, leaving them in relative privacy.

"Draco," Harry began lowly, eyes still locked on Connor. "Your jealousy is unwarranted. You're also being prepared to become a Hound in the future, though barring an action of supreme stupidity, your position is almost a certainty at this point."

The blond drew a sharp breath, surprised. He glanced for a moment at the trio bickering playfully at the tree, before turning his full attention onto Harry.

"Really? I mean, I knew you were setting me up for something, but… a Hound?"

Harry took his eyes off Connor long enough to give Draco a look that implied less than flattering things about the blonds intelligence.

"Obviously. I am significantly younger than the Hounds, and in our line of work age is a disadvantage that will prove fatal eventually. I need to have replacements fully trained and waiting when the inevitable happens and one of my current Inner Circle need to be replaced."

Draco stared for a moment, then huffed a disbelieving laugh.

"Me, Blaise, Neville, Hermione, Crabbe, Goyle, Dean, the Weasley Twins, and Cedric Diggory. We're the ones you've selected to train up?"

Harry cocked his head thoughtfully.

"Not exactly. While you're all part of a group I intend to work closely with, not all of you will become my Inner Circle, and fewer still will become Hounds. The others will become Section Heads, or affiliates, depending on how they develop over time."

"So who are your Pups?"

Harry stared at Draco in confusion.

"My what?"

Draco smirked.

"Pups. You know, Hounds-In-Training? I mean, I suppose you could call us you HIT squad if you liked acronyms, but I think that sends out the wrong message. Either way, we need a name if we're being groomed for this."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Fine, you're Vahan's Pups, though nobody outside my current Inner Circle will be aware of that name."

"So who is it?" Draco persisted doggedly.

Harry sighed with a faint smile.

"We'll discuss it at a later date; today is not the day for business. Jinky?"

The black clad elf appeared with a barely noticeable pop, assuming his standard military rest position.

"Collect Blaise from the Infirmary please, and guide him here."

The elf nodded and disappeared to do as instructed, leaving Harry with a pouting Draco, who was promptly ignored in favour of a bouncing Connor.

"Sir! Oh, thank you!" Connor flung himself into Harry's arms, beaming widely. "It's perfect! I love it! Thank you so much!"

Harry didn't even try to supress his smile, and settled himself in a chair near the fire.

"You're welcome. Your teacher has reported that you're clearly practicing very hard at piano, and that you're ready to move up a level of difficulty. He suggested these as a challenge for you."

Connor was hugging the bundle of books he'd been given, each filled with sheet music for various styles of music adapted for piano. Harry decided that he'd bring up Mr Jinsen's suggestion of entering Connor into competitions at a later date. He knew that Connor loved playing the piano, but he wanted to be able to talk freely with the boy about it, and that wasn't possible with so many ears perked in their direction.

The young boy looked up at his Sir again, and immediately noticed that Sir wanted to speak with him privately about something. It didn't seem to be urgent, and there was no tension in Sir's frame to suggest it was unpleasant, so he determined that he'd probably bring it up during his next midnight visit while they did art together.

Connor was a smart boy, and had taken Harry's lessons about not trusting anyone fully to heart. The boy knew that he could rely on the Hounds and the rest of the people Harry had approved to care for him, but they were still only employee's, not family. The only person that Connor knew he could trust without reservation was his Sir. His father might once have been in that category as well, but he'd lost that trust when he'd abandoned Connor after he'd woken up from his coma. He knew that he'd regretted it and wanted to take him back, but Sir had protected him and kept him close. After all, if he'd found it all 'too much' and abandoned him once, what was to stop him from doing it again? Sir had never really commented on it one way or the other, but Connor was secretly grateful. He loved his father, but the man had always been too buried in his work to build a truly close relationship with the small boy. Sir was better. No matter how busy he was, he always made time for Connor, and would drop nearly anything if Connor needed him.

He looked up from his pile of presents and watched Sir and Draco calmly invite a new dark haired boy to join them. The boy seemed nervous, but did as instructed and sat, accepting a cup of tea. He didn't have any presents of his own, but seemed content to watch the people around him opening theirs.

"Connor," Harry called quietly, setting aside his own teacup and letting Connor approach and snuggle into his side while warily eyeing the new addition. "This is Blaise Zabini. He goes to Hogwarts with Draco and I, and is joining the Organisation on a trial basis. Blaise, this is Connor. In the event that something happens when both of you are present, his safety is your highest priority. Draco will go through all the relevant procedures with you."

Draco nodded calmly, and took a sip of his hot chocolate.

Connor remained tucked into Harry's side, but extended one hand to Blaise.

"Nice to meet you."

Blaise smiled charmingly and shook the offered hand.

"Likewise. I look forward to getting to know you better."

After a much needed relaxing morning spent playing with Connor, Harry headed back to Hogwarts with Draco and Blaise in tow.

To Harry's pleasure, Blaise and Connor seemed to hit it off, and while Blaise still had a long way to go to prove himself, Harry was reasonably confident that the Italian would make an excellent future bodyguard for the younger boy. Perhaps in time he would even become to Connor what Alex was to Harry.

Sneaking back into Hogwarts was a disappointingly simple exercise. Sending Warthog ahead to scout, then a quick Disillusionment charm and they were strolling casually back into the castle and directly into the Great Hall for lunch.

The normal house tables had been vanished, and instead was a single large table made up for everyone remaining at the school over break. Harry smiled cheerily at his people, and nodded politely to the teachers, before settling himself into his seat. Dean, Neville, and Hermione smiled in welcome, as did Cedric and the Twins, which had the observing teachers doing a double take. It was one thing to hear that the Potter boy had managed to gather friends in every house, but seeing that it crossed years as well was almost beyond belief.

In the older students cases, Harry knew that they hadn't stayed for him, but for family reasons. It was just unfortunate that he hadn't had the opportunity to work on them as he might have wished. Still, he had time; these sorts of things couldn't be rushed.

Draco settled himself at Harry's right, as usual, but this time Blaise nudged Crabbe along a little and settled himself at Harry's left. This raised a few eyebrows around the table amongst those in the know, but nobody was foolish enough to comment, since their leader clearly wasn't concerned.

Harry nodded his thanks as Draco poured him some coffee, and began delicately eating the specialised meal the house elves had sent to his plate, listening quietly to the chatter around him.

The teachers were conversing merrily, Hagrid's voice cheerfully ringing out at almost painful volumes as he shared borderline inappropriate jokes with Professors Flitwick and Sprout, with Professor Sinistra doing a poor job of pretending she wasn't sniggering into her mulled wine at some of the more bawdy offerings. Dumbledore and McGonagall were conversing quietly, with Snape listening as he ate his Yorkshire Pudding and offering only the occasional comment, apparently completely disinterested in the entire proceedings. The other teachers seemed intent on finishing their meal as quickly as possible in order to beat a hasty retreat, Quirrel especially.

Harry eyed the stuttering teacher from under his lashes as he sipped delicately from his coffee cup. The man was truly an appalling actor; it was almost offensive to be forced to endure his bumbling routine each day. Green eyes drifted up slightly to look at the turban wrapped securely around the man's head.

The garish purple fabric reeked of garlic, but despite the almost visible miasma that hovered around it, it wasn't quite enough to mask the sickly sweet scent of rot that underlay it. Harrys nose twitched, but the man was far enough away that the smell didn't quite reach the eleven year olds sensitive orifice. Probably for the best, in hindsight; the aroma would almost certainly put him off his food.

Feeling a set of eyes on him, Harry casually glanced around the table. His people - and potentials - were chatting happily, only glancing at him from the corner of their eyes occasionally to check if he needed them for anything. His gaze finally settled on Dumbledore, who's periwinkle blue eyes were locked onto him, twinkling as they observed him with barely concealed suspicion. McGonagall was still muttering into his ear, but he was obviously barely paying attention to the woman. Foolish, really; she was a lot smarter than she appeared, and had a practical cunningness that Dumbledore appeared to lack. Snape was scowling at the remains of his meal, obviously not liking whatever it was the trio had been discussing.

Harry carefully avoided making direct eye contact with the Headmaster, and smiled cheerfully in his general direction. He took a moment of savage delight at the frustration the Headmaster must be feeling at his casual avoidance of a Legilimency probe. Harry had been training in Occlumency for several years, but being as young as he was, he could still barely manage rudimentary shields. It simply wasn't possible to fully master the art until a witch or wizards magic settled after magical maturity. The mental organisation and emotional control that formed the basis of the art was wildly useful, however, and was easily achieved by a dedicated student of any age.

Finishing the last few bites of his meal, Harry nudged Draco and Blaise and muttered just loud enough for them to hear.

"I think a snowball fight about now would be an excellent way of working off such a heavy meal, wouldn't you? I'll leave recruitment to you. I'll be waiting outside."

Standing, he calmly strolled outside, ignoring the Headmasters heavy gaze on his back.

A few minutes later had all the children remaining in the castle gathered around Harry as they divided into teams. Grabbing Draco's sleeve, he smiled deviously as his eyes tracked a certain unwary Professor walking across the courtyard.

"Spread the word to our group; I'll pay 50 galleons to anyone who knocks Quirrels turban off. 100 if they can bring me proof of what's hidden under it, without getting caught. I'll be out this afternoon, so if anyone comes looking for me, run interference until dinner time."

Draco nodded with a gleeful smile, and immediately slipped away to perform his task.

XXXXX

Harry walked into The Nest with Alex, Sergei, Shot, and Connor following him like overly attentive ducklings. They were greeted by a raucous gaggle of children, who quickly relieved them of their gift wrapped burdens, scampering en masse into the sitting room that had been temporarily converted into Holiday Hell.

"Greg, Alice, Marcel," Harry nodded in greeting, shaking hands with the men and giving Alice a brief kiss on the cheek. "Is everything well?"

All three nodded, falling into step with Harry's entourage as they followed the children.

"Everything's fine," Alice smiled gently. "The children have been very excited to see you today, so I hope you're prepared to be mauled by sugar demons."

Harry smiled wryly and shrugged.

"I'll find a way to wear them out. And if they get too much, I can always hand them back to you."

"No need to get nasty," Alice pouted playfully while the other adults chuckled.

"But I'm an evil crime lord, don't you know," the small boy jested back. "I have a Task Force after my head to prove it! So surely such nefarious deeds come under my purview? In fact, wouldn't it be a requirement for someone in my position?"

Alice took a moment for a dramatic 'thoughtful' pause.

"You're right. You are a truly despicable human being. The worst of the worst. I don't know why I ever thought otherwise. I bet you get up to all sorts of Machiavellian debauchery like, ah," she trailed off, floundering. "Sorry, I've got nothing. That sentence kind of ran away without me." She smiled sheepishly.

The rest of the group sniggered, entering the room where the children waited.

"I liked 'Machiavellian debauchery'," Harry offered with a grin. "I'm not entirely certain what such a thing would entail, but it sounds positively thrilling!"

Alice rolled her head back with a groan.

"No. Never. I give up."

Harry grinned.

"Unlikely. I think this is more of a tactical retreat for the moment."

"Like 'Advancing to the Rear'?" Connor interjected. "Halflung the Unstoppable did that in the Second Great Goblin War at the Battle of the Forge in 1731!"

Harry cut the boy a sharp glance, wordlessly reminding the eight ("almost nine!") year old to watch his tongue in public.

Connor grimaced apologetically, then quickly pasted a cheerful smile on his face and ran over to the other children.

Harry sighed. Connor was still in love with all things Goblin, and was picking up Gobbledegook at an almost frightening pace. He'd managed to charm both Gutshank and Riftweld into providing him with several textbooks on Goblin culture and history, and was well on his way to being accepted as a Clan Friend - a feat that not even Harry had considered possible. It was unusual that the boy would slip up in a muggle environment, though in hindsight he was likely worn out from all the disturbed sleep and excitement of the lead up to Christmas.

Shaking himself back to awareness when he felt a small hand take his, Harry smiled down at Elise, who was gently towing him to sit beside her on her pink Barbie beanbag. Nobody but Elise and her Sir were allowed to sit there, or so Alice had informed him during a previous visit.

"You look very pretty today, Elise," Harry murmured, helping the girl straighten out the fairy wings strapped to her back so she could settle comfortably.

Elise blushed, smiling shyly.

"Thank you, I like this dress."

"Isn't that the one I got you for your birthday this year?" The boy asked, eying the other children warily as they dove into the piles of presents and began handing them out.

Elise lit up, ignoring the ever growing pile next to her beanbag.

"Yes! You got me this one, which I call my fairy princess dress because it's so shiny and matches my wings; and a green Chinese one with the gold dragon stitched on it! I wore that one when Alice took us to Chinatown for the festival, I don't remember which one, and the shop keepers gave me free sweets because they said I looked really cute!"

Harry smiled at her tolerantly.

"Well, you're certainly that, Princess," he charmed, raising her hand to kiss the back of it. "Would the young lady perhaps like to open her presents now?"

Elise squeaked, and turned to her gifts in order to hide her bright red face.

"Please excuse me, Princess, I need to do the rounds with everyone else too." Harry smiled and dropped a kiss on the top of her dark hair. "I'll come and see you again in a little while."

As Harry stood, he caught the matching smirks that Alice and Shot both sported. A half-hearted glare set the girls to giggling, whispering to each other in a way that made Harry eye them warily; nothing good could ever come of those expressions.

Lizzie had settled herself in the corner of the room, watching the other children babbling excitedly about whatever amazing gift Sir had given them. Despite Alice's urging to clean herself up, she was still dressed in an oil stained jumpsuit, though she'd deigned to undo the top half and fold it down until she could knot the arms around her waist. Absently kicking her heavy boots against the leg of the coffee table, she barely twitched when Harry settled next to her.

"I hear your car is nearly restored," Harry opened.

Lizzie shrugged, and looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her Hello Kitty singlet.

"Yeah. Still need some parts, but. Greg's been helping with the heavy stuff, but he lets me do all the actual work."

Harry tilted his head, listening as the young blonde began talking about her project. He personally knew next to nothing about mechanics, but the joy on Lizzie's face as she warmed to her topic was unmistakable.

"Greg and Alice have been keeping me updated on your progress. They've both commented on your aptitude for this kind of work. Is it something you'd like to do for a career when you're older?"

Lizzie stared in confusion.

"Is that something I can do? I thought I had to work for the Boss?"

Harry smiled gently, pleased that even in such a secure setting she was smart enough to not name names. Settling back into his seat more comfortably, he shrugged one shoulder.

"It's not a requirement to work for the Boss. If you don't want anything to do with us, we can make arrangements to find you a new home. But there are different ways to work for us; not everyone is going to be like Brian and Sophie. Those two get as much of a thrill from breaking through High Security Systems as you do from working on cars. But I assume you're aware that I have final say over placement of our people?"

Rubbing a hand through her messy blond bob cut, Lizzie frowned.

"Well, yeah, everyone knows that. You're the Boss. The only one who can overrule you is the Big Boss, and everyone knows that he wouldn't bother; he leaves all the people stuff to you so he doesn't have to reveal himself."

Smiling wryly, Harry took her hand and tugged her closer, letting her lean against his shoulder and rest her head.

"Close enough, I suppose. Anyway, my point is that while I don't usually have any direct interaction with the people in the network, the Ghosts and Nestlings are a special group that I pay personal attention to. You're special. I have a particular interest in developing your skills and talents."

He could feel Lizzie stiffening against his side, and continued quietly before she could jump to the wrong conclusion.

"There are a lot of ways to be useful to the Boss, and where possible I want to help you guys achieve something that makes you happy."

"What does that have to do with me liking cars though?" Lizzie mumbled, trying to put the pieces together. While gifted with mechanics, she was far from the genius of the boy next to her.

"Lizzie, I know you're not particularly interested in school, and that's fine. I was thinking about asking a contact of mine to place you in an apprenticeship once you turned fifteen. The Boss approved my plan to have a dedicated garage for our company vehicles, and I can't think of anyone I'd trust more to work on my cars than you."

Shooting upright, the girl gaped at him.

"You mean it? I could just work at the garage after I turn fifteen?" She gasped, clutching tightly onto his arm.

Wincing slightly, Harry tapped her fingers to get her to ease the death grip she had on his limb.

"Well, there are a few conditions you'd be required to meet, of course, but assuming you put the work in to meet them all, I'd want you to run the place. I'll assign you an assistant to manage the office and help you with the paperwork, but you'd be in charge for all intents and purposes. Over time, once you've proven yourself capable, I'll use you to train up a few other kids like you, then have them set up satellite branches. Is that something that would interest you?"

Lizzie looked up at him, eyes shining brightly with joy and adoration.

"What conditions? I'll do anything!"

Internally, Harry couldn't help but be filled with smug satisfaction. The girl was his, completely loyal.

"I'll have the details sent to Alice to go through with you, but as a general outline, you'll be required to maintain a certain grade average in your core classes, and over the next few years you'll be required to take basic business classes to make sure you're prepared for the realities of running your own business. Alice and whomever you're Apprenticed to will need to sign off on you and your work, and I expect you to behave in a way that I can be proud of. You'll also be expected to ask for help if you need it; we want you to succeed, but we don't want you to struggle any more than you need to."

Lizzie threw herself at Harry, wrapping around him while babbling happily about how she would work her very best and make him proud, and become worthy of having her own shop.

Harry patiently patted her back until she calmed enough for him to pry her off him. He shivered internally; not only had some of the grease residue from her clothes transferred onto his clothes, but he still wasn't overly fond of being touched.

Taking the envelope Alex discretely handed him, Harry offered it to the excited girl.

"Greg mentioned to me that once your car is fully restored, it'll need a proper paint job, but that we don't have the equipment available for that here. Merry Christmas."

Lizzie carefully opened the festively decorated envelope and boggled at the slips of paper inside.

"Seriously? You got me a booking at JJ's for a custom paint job next month?" She squealed in excitement. "How? I mean, his work is the best, and it's nearly impossible to get a booking with him!"

Harry smiled at her joy.

"He owed me a favour; and when I told him about the gifted young girl who'd restored a 1970 Ford Mustang Boss 302 almost entirely on her own, well, he was curious to meet you. He has a soft spot for that model apparently, and flat out refused to let anyone else paint it."

Lizzie looked like she was about to pass out from excitement.

"So," Harry concluded, "I suggest you work with Greg to finish up anything else it needs before your appointment." He smiled, accepting her over excited hug before she bounced off the couch and practically ran from the room, yelling something about needing her notebook.

Greg huffed, watching her go.

"You realise that you just doubled my workload for the next month, right?"

Harry straightened his clothes, brushing a few stray bits of lint from his pants.

"If you need extra hands to cope, let Alice know. I want you to assist Lizzie as much as you feel is appropriate. I don't want her getting overexcited and injuring herself."

Greg nodded with a smile.

"No problem. Want me to grab you some snacks? It looks like you're about to be holding court."

Harry eyed the kids who were waiting with barely restrained impatience to talk to him.

"I would appreciate that, yes."

Harry tucked Connor into bed, gently smoothing a curl of hair off his forehead. The boy was so exhausted that he couldn't even stay awake long enough to make it to dinner time.

"Did you have fun today?" He asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

Connor nodded sleepily.

"I especially liked seeing you this morning, and meeting Blaise. Do you think Blaise would like to be my friend?"

"I'm sure he would. Maybe, if he proves himself, he can work with you like Alex works for me. Would you like that? Or is there someone else that you would prefer trained for that role?"

Connor shook his head sleepily.

"I don't know. I'll answer that when you think we can trust him."

Harry smiled genuinely, pleased.

"That's very wise of you. Good choice."

Straightening the blankets around the smaller boy and tucking him in snugly, Harry gave him a final kiss on the forehead, then left his heir to sleep.

Wandering slowly down the hallway, the young crime lord took some time to think over the day. He'd been able to spend a small amount of one-on-one time with all of the Nestlings and Ghosts, and he was pleased that his absence didn't appear to have negatively affected his relationships with the children. The constant back and forth of letters was obviously helping, along with the carefully displayed respect and deference from their carers. As he'd explained to Lizzie, he didn't bother to bond so closely with the bulk of his network, but the children in his care were a different story. Each of the ones who elected to stay in his homes were fast tracked into whichever position suited them best, and would eventually oversee their own teams, or even entire sections of the organisation. He'd spoken truthfully to Alice though, none of the children would be forced to work for him. That said, earning their loyalty and gratitude now would pay dividends in the future, even if it was only someone turning a blind eye, or providing information.

He sighed heavily and stretched, rolling his neck to relieve the tension. He was utterly exhausted. The months since starting school had been draining in a way that far exceeded the usual stress he subjected himself to. Even though he'd shifted the bulk of the organisations daily operations to his Hounds and the Smith golem, he still had a lot of work to go over, things that only he could do. Coupled with his school work load, and the necessary networking amongst the students, he was beyond exhausted. He'd already had to sacrifice several hours per week of training, as well as cancelling some of his regular meeting with his contacts. Sightings of Tiny around town had been sparse lately, something which he'd been informed was driving Task Force Merlin frantic as they tried to figure out what had changed.

While he usually kept a rather odd sleeping schedule to accommodate his work, he was currently only managing between two and four hours a night, and it simply wasn't sustainable. Hopefully Sergei had been able to find a solution amongst his contacts, preferably before Harry collapsed from overwork. He could feel his health suffering already, so he didn't think such a situation was as far off as he'd like.

Entering his office, Harry slumped into his chair with a groan of appreciation as the leather seat moulded itself to his back and thighs, the Comfort Charms working their magic to ease his tension.

Jinky appeared silently at his elbow, and placed a small platter on his desk. Disappearing, he reappeared a moment later with a tumbler of scotch.

"Sir?" Alex asked as the Hounds and Shot entered the room. Marcel followed them a moment later, all of them looking a little worse for wear. The afternoon at the Nest had been as pleasant as it could be when surrounded by ten over excited children, but it was still beyond exhausting.

"If you're about to give me work to do, the answer is no."

Alex smiled faintly.

"Actually, Sir, I was going to suggest that you take the night off. There are decisions to be made, but they can wait for another night."

"Good," Harry grumbled before pausing. "Did we ever get around to dealing with the Acolytes we took from that farm in… wherever it was? The ones that took Dudley that time." He rubbed his eyes, his thoughts too fuzzy from exhaustion to come together with any higher degree of coherency.

"Most of them, Sir. We still have a handful that we thought you might want to keep for other purposes."

"Whatever. I'm too tired to even think about it right now." The raven haired boy began to pick at the platter in front of him, grateful for Jinky's thoughtfulness. He'd provided a selection of bite sized pieces of fruit, cubes of cheese, thinly sliced deli meats, crackers, and to Harry's amusement, what appeared to be some sort of potato mash wrapped in ham and skewered on a toothpick. Strange, perhaps, but unexpectedly delicious.

"You're in luck, Boss," Sergei grunted.

Harry hummed questioningly, not looking up from his plate even as he chewed a cube of cheese.

"I said I'd look into what I could find to help you get some more sleep, and I've got something."

At that, Harry looked up, his undivided attention on the Russian.

"It took quite some doing, and I had to kill an Unspeakable to get my hands on it, but my contact didn't lie. The basement freaks use these as standard equipment, so they're thoroughly tested and have no adverse effects that have been detected since they were introduced eighty years ago." The hulking blond placed a plain ring box on the desk.

Harry opened the box, and raised an eyebrow at the contents. Inside was nestled a ring made of some sort of black material. It looked to be a combination of stone and metal, and yet didn't comfortably look like either. It was designed along a similar theme to the muggle 'worry rings', however instead of the upper band spinning freely, it seemed to click along in set increments.

"How does it work?" The boy asked curiously, reluctant to touch the strange material until he understood the device he'd just been given.

Sergei shrugged, and took a sip of his coffee.

"Basically, it causes some sort of time dilation. You put it on, set it for the required time, and when you activate it, your body is put into a forced sleep for that amount of time."

Harry frowned.

"And how does that help me?"

Sergei grinned wolfishly.

"Well, as far as your mind and body is concerned, you've gotten a full night sleep, but in reality you'll only sleep about ten minutes for every hour you've programmed."

Blinking in surprise, Harry glanced at the ring again.

"So, I can get nine hours sleep in an hour and a half? What's the catch?"

"Ah, well, it's a bit of a kicker. While you're asleep, you can't wake on your own, and you're completely unaware of the world around you until the ring disengages at the end of the set period."

"So he would be completely vulnerable while under its influence?" Alex asked, his posture screaming his hesitance.

Sergei grimaced and put his empty mug aside.

"I told you the downside was a kicker. There is a safety built into it though, but you don't want to use it if there's any other option." Seeing he still had everyone's attention, he rubbed his huge hand over his face, scratching the light coating of stubble that dusted his chin. "You can set a failsafe password and pair it to a person you trust. It will only work for them, and all they need to do is say it and you'll wake up. Problem is that being forced out of the time dilation will cause a backlash onto the person wearing the ring. You'll be up and functional, but it'll hurt in ways you can't imagine."

Harry raised an eyebrow, still staring at the ring.

"So in summation, I can get a full night sleep in an hour and a half, but I'm completely helpless while I do, unless I'm forcibly brought out of it in a way that will inspire my future torture sessions, yes?"

"Basically, yes." Sergei grunted. "I considered a Time Turner, or similar, but the cost to your body and lifespan isn't worth it for regular use. Got a hold of a couple anyway, just in case, but I thought this might be a better option for you. After all, the Unspeakables all use these as soon as they join the Department of Mysteries."

Harry lifted the ring from the box and slid it onto his thumb, watching warily while it automatically adjusted to fit him perfectly.

"Warthog," he called, tugging lightly on their bond in case she was out of hearing range.

"You rang, My Lord?" The big cat snarked as she slid out of the shadows.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I need to bond a password to you for this ring. It's an emergency wake up failsafe in case I'm threatened in a way you can't defend me from. Last resort only, since I'd rather not deal with a magical and temporal backlash if it's avoidable."

He concentrated and opened up the relevant part of his memory for her to access. He still couldn't speak directly to her through their Familiar Bond, but with effort he could allow her to access certain short memories. His Hounds had assured him that over time the bond would continue to strengthen, and eventually they would be able to share memories back and forth as easily as breathing. It would just take several years before they reached that point.

"Yeah, ok. Dibs picking the password!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Fine; just pick one now."

"I choose… Wake up!"

"No. Choose something you won't accidentally say while bitching to yourself while I'm unconscious."

"'Tupac was overrated'?"

"I agree, but no. Be serious, please."

Warthog groaned mentally.

"Fine. How about… Enliven! I won't say that by accident!"

"Yeah, that'll do. Sergei, how do I bond the password to her?"

"Put a drop of her blood on it. She needs to be thinking or saying the password the moment the blood touches the ring. You'll only get one shot, so be careful."

Harry nodded and turned to Warthog who sat next to him and obligingly raised a massive paw, resting it on her wizards knee.

"Ready?" He asked her.

Warthog ducked her head, and began chanting the word over and over in her mind, concentrating exclusively on it and what it would do when stated.

Harry drew his wand and used it to carefully prick her paw, lightly massaging the pad with his hand to draw the blood forth. He waited until she began her little chant again, and carefully dripped the blood onto the ring. It absorbed seamlessly into the black material, before a dull flash of light rippled across the spinning band.

"That should be it then," he murmured, and gently healed her paw, checking to make sure there was no lingering soreness or bruising.

Warthog watched his quiet fussing with fond amusement, making no effort to pull away. Her wizard had been so stressed lately that she couldn't bring herself to deny him. Her boy drove himself into the ground looking after his responsibilities, but he still managed to find a few minutes every day to give her as much attention and affection as he could manage.

She agreed with his assessment that no matter how much he trusted his Inner Circle, they were still only employees, but that she - as an extension of himself - was the only one that he could trust without reservation. No matter the situation, he could rely on her to never betray him. It was telling how much he valued this ability to trust her that he made sure to never take her for granted or neglect her needs.

"Sir, it's getting late. You should head back to Hogwarts before you're missed." Alex regretfully broke the quiet moment.

"Of course; thank you all for your hard work today." Keying open one of the locked drawers, he withdrew four Gringotts official coin pouches, and handed them out. "Merry Christmas. I gave you your gifts earlier, but this is your bonus for the extra work you've all been putting in lately. The timing is coincidental, I assure you," Harry smirked, then stood, lightly scratching behind Warthog's ears and earning himself a rumbling purr. "I'm off to eat dinner and try out my new toy. Enjoy your evening."

As Harry opened his eyes exactly one hour and forty minutes after activating his ring for the first time, he decided then and there that this device was his most valuable possession, and would never leave his person. Stretching, he rolled onto his side, burrowing down into his pillow. He could feel Warthog dozing at the end of his bed, but since she wasn't making any effort to oust him from his fluffy cocoon he felt no guilt at luxuriating for a change.

Blinking lazily, he found his gaze drawn to Draco's desk. The blond boy was working with quiet efficiency at a pile of papers that looked to have little to do with schoolwork, and given the determined set of his jaw, Harry assumed it was probably notes about the things Draco would be covering with Blaise.

"Relax, Draco; it's not all on you," Harry mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow his face was currently half buried in.

Draco started, only barely managing to lift his quill in time to avoid a line dragged across the page.

"Merlin, Harry! I thought you'd be asleep for hours yet! With how tired you've been lately, when you said you were taking the night off I thought you'd get a decent amount of rest!"

Harry smiled drowsily.

"Sergei found a solution to my little sleeping problem. I've had more than enough rest now."

Draco frowned, but didn't comment. If Harry wanted him to know the details, he'd tell him; after all, it didn't do to be too curious about the young raven haired boy's doings if you valued your… everything.

"If you say so. Did you want me to bring you anything? The House Elves have put out some snacks in the common rooms."

"Thanks," Harry smiled, finally dragging himself into a sitting position in the bed. "Sounds great. I'll get something more substantial from Jinky later if I get hungry."

With a quick nod, Draco cast a privacy ward around his desk, and darted out to get some snacks for his friend.

"Since you decided not to work tonight, we should take some time to explore the castle more. I can show you some of the secrets I've managed to find while we're at it." Warthog offered.

"Sounds good. Ah, thank you, Draco." Harry accepted the small plate of sugar cookies, and a large mug of what appeared to be peppermint hot chocolate with a generous handful of marshmallows melting on the top.

Sipping his drink with pleasure, Harry hummed and nibbled a cookie, relishing the feeling of being rested and fully alert for a change. It had been so long that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to not have his limbs feel heavy and his thoughts muddied.

"Do you have a minute?" Draco asked tentatively.

"Sure," Harry responded cheerfully. "Grab a seat." He gestured with a cookie to the end of the bed, and waited patiently while his future 2IC settled himself around Warthog's stubbornly unmoving form.

"So, I've been thinking," Draco began hesitantly. "I know it's a bit presumptuous, but given that I'm being trained to take over from Alex when the time comes, and the other Pups are too, I suppose," he added grudgingly, "that it might be worth having Alex train us? Doing jobs for you and following you around and stuff is important, but there's lots of details that Alex could teach me, so that I can step in smoothly when I, you know, take over?"

Harry nibbled a cookie with a small smile.

"Excellent idea, Draco," he praised. He watched in amusement as the other boy puffed up with pride. No matter how much the boy had changed since coming under Harry's influence, he was still a sucker for praise if it came from someone he respected. Harry had of course already thought of this, and begun mentally assigning his new 'pups' to the most fitting mentor, but he was pleased that Draco was taking the initiative when it came to his position. "I agree that you should do that, but not yet. Alex and Sergei have too much on their plates right now as it is, but perhaps by our second year things will have eased up enough to arrange time for proper mentoring?"

Draco nodded, pleased that his idea had been received so well.

"Is there anything I can do between now and then to help prepare?"

Dusting his fingers off, Harry licked a few lingering crumbs from the side of his mouth.

"Study ahead as much as you can, and help the rest of the Pups do the same. When the mentoring starts, you'll have less time for homework, and I'll be very disappointed if your studies suffer. Actually, while I'm thinking of it, I intend to release some Official Harry Potter study materials when I have results worth showing off. I'd like you and the rest of our group to start compiling study guides for all the subjects that we take. Have Hermione help you; and yes, you can have her do the heavy lifting as far as collation and organisation goes. I want you to focus on content review. The material needs to have enough background and cultural information for muggleborns to fill in the blanks, and for purebloods to get accurate muggle information where must be as unbiased as humanly possible. Once you've put together guides for first year, and my other people have checked it over, we'll distribute them amongst our group. I expect everyone in our group to hold the top places in our year once that happens."

Draco blinked in surprise at the scope and ambition of the project, but nodded in agreement.

"How long do we have to do this, and do you want Hermione to know it's an order from you?"

"Yes, let her know, but you're to be the point of contact for it. You need to get used to people reporting to you on projects." He noticed the gleam in Draco's eye, and took a moment to nip any problems in the bud while he could. "That's not to say you can boss everyone around indiscriminately."

Draco deflated slightly but nodded in acknowledgement.

"Alright, if that's everything, I'm going to enjoy the rest of my night off and take a wander around the castle."

"OK," Draco stood, then seemed to remember something. "Oh, before you go, I found one of your presents from this morning. It seems to have fallen on the floor before you woke up and gotten kicked half under the bed. Did you want it now?"

Harry shrugged and nodded, holding out his hand for the package.

It was soft and floppy, and wrapped in garish purple paper with animated silver constellations. Checking the tag, Harry frowned slightly.

Your father left this in my possession before he died; I think it's time it was returned to you. Use it well.

Inside was a slippery fabric, thin and sliding over his fingers like water. Harry raised an eyebrow; an Invisibility Cloak was not easily obtained, and they usually only lasted a mere handful of years before losing their effectiveness. This cloaks invisibility properties were the most perfect he'd ever seen, and if it had belonged to his father then the magic on it should have well and truly dissipated by now. And yet…

There was no way this was an ordinary Invisibility Cloak.

Harry got up and swiftly put the cloak into a secured box that was stored in his trunk. He would need to thoroughly investigate it later; there was no way he was using an atypical Cloak that had been anonymously gifted to him until he'd had his people check every inch of the damn thing for any surprises. Knowing his luck, someone had put Compulsions and Tracking Charms on it. The lurid wrapping and angled, loopy writing had him putting his money on Dumbledore.

Swiftly throwing on his usual suit but forgoing the tie - that he still couldn't knot on his own - Harry shrugged a heavy robe over the top to shield him from the winter chill. He looped the scarf from Crabbe around his neck and tucked the gloves into his pocket, glancing around the room idly.

It was so nice to not be completely exhausted for a change.

"I'm off," he announced quietly. "Don't wait up, there's no need to cover for me."

Draco nodded, and turned back to his paperwork, dipping his quill and jotting down a note industriously.

"Finally," Warthog grouched, sliding off the bed and padding quietly over to the door.

Harry smiled but didn't reply, merely opening the door and following his Familiar through the Common Room and out into the Dungeon while she kept up a steady stream of complaints in his mind; commenting on everything from the lingering stench of Nott's cologne to the unfairness of the restriction on hunting the Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest. There may also have been a string of insults aimed at the 'KFC bird' that had apparently decided that teasing her was a brilliant pastime when the Headmaster wasn't using him as an overly ostentatious mail owl. Or carrier pigeon, as she smugly commented, given that owls were useful and apparently Phoenix's were merely tasty.

"How would you know?" Harry wondered idly as he strolled along behind her. "To the best of my knowledge you've never eaten Phoenix. Actually, that begs the question, given that a Phoenix is immortal and merely bursts into the only flame hot enough to compare to Dragon flame when it's at the end of its lifecycle, in the event that you did manage to eat it in its entirety quickly enough, would it simply combust inside your stomach? I mean I've heard of heartburn before, but I doubt it's usually that literal."

Warthog gave him a filthy look over her shoulder.

"Still going to eat it."

Glancing at his watch, Harry noted that it was a little before midnight, and took a moment to apply a Disillusionment spell to himself in a portrait free corridor. Curfew may be relaxed for the older years over the holidays, but there was no such leniency for a wandering first year.

The bonded pair wandered the halls a while longer, chatting quietly and enjoying the down time.

"That's true, I suppose," Harry muttered, "but what if Hagrid has a real baby face under all that hair? That would be immensely disturbing, and I'm not sure that shaving him in his sleep is worth the risk, besides, a mohawk would make him look like a demented rooster."

Their conversation fizzled as they heard muffled voices coming from a nearby corridor.

"You filthy fags! Why the fuck wouldn't I tell everyone about you? You're freaks! It's bad enough you're both guys, but together? You deserve everything you get!"

Harry and Warthog immediately changed direction, following the voices that were now pleading with the first to not say anything. By the sounds of things, it wasn't going well. A few thuds and scuffling sounds told Harry that things had started to get physical, and a grin twitched over his lips. It was rare for wizards to use fists over wands, but it was hilarious watching them try.

Rounding the corner, Harry was treated to the sight of the Weasley Twins scuffling about with what looked to be a fifth year Hufflepuff. He wasn't one that Harry was familiar with, but he was impressed at the two third year's temerity. Despite their opponent being larger and stronger, the two were working together to keep him somewhat contained. If only they weren't standing at the top of a flight of stairs.

Harry could see how this would end, and smiled as he rested one shoulder against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, folding his arms across his chest. Warthog sat next to him, using her unique ability to blend into the shadows while they waited for the inevitable.

It happened exactly as Harry expected. One twist, one shove, a fumbled step, and then the unfortunate fifth year was staring sightlessly at Harry's feet as his corpse began to cool.

The twins stood motionless at the top of the stairs, eyes locked on their former schoolmate's body in mute horror.

Harry waited patiently for the moment to sink in, then flicked his finger to dispel his invisibility charm.

"Oh dear," he tutted quietly. "Looks like you boys might need some help."