Stealing a Secret

"Alright, settle down," Professor Nott instructed.

The class fell immediately silent, her presence alone enough to elicit such a reaction. She was a stern woman, her mousey brown hair pulled back as tightly as her ever-present pursed lips. She always appeared as though she was unimpressed, but Harry had quickly learned this was her demeanour. She was not as sour as she was terse, impatient perhaps, but not unfair.

Thus far, Rosalina Nott had impressed him. She was a well of knowledge on the subject of defence, and a passionate practitioner. One only needed to hear her explain the beauty of the spells she taught to see that.

If he were honest with himself, he had expected little from her, bigotry and favouritism towards purebloods, but she had proven him wrong. She was nothing like the two Notts he had met.

She looked like them, but that was where the resemblance ended.

"Today we will be discussing situational specific spells," she announced, and Harry could have sworn her eyes had lingered on him for a second longer than was normal. "Can anyone tell me what I mean by the term 'situational specific spells?"

Harry had read the term in the books that Sirius had given him, and when no one else raised their hands, he did so.

"Evans," Nott prompted.

"The term refers to spells that have been created to serve only one specific purpose. As an example, a privacy charm is designed only for that outcome, whereas a fire summoning charm could be used for many things from lighting a candle to burning down an entire building."

A ghost of a smile crested the woman's thin lips as she nodded.

"Take five points for Gryffindor," she offered. "Mr Evans is correct. Situational specific spells are designed for one thing only. The privacy charm, as Mr Evans explained, serves only the purpose of providing privacy. It cannot be repurposed for other use. Now, can anyone think of any other spells that would fall into the category? Mr Black?"

Arcturus Black frowned at being questioned when he had not raised his hand.

"The killing curse," he answered with a shrug.

"Indeed," Professor Nott agreed, "the one of the three unforgivable curses that has only one purpose."

"What about the Cruciatus Curse?" Stebbins questioned.

Harry disliked the boy. He was as bigoted as they came with none of the intelligence or charisma of some of his housemates. Charlus too disliked him and often spoke of his stupidity.

"The Cruciatus Curse used to be used as a medical spell," Nott replied. "It still could be if needed but the healer practice has advanced beyond the need of it."

Stebbins merely frowned but said nothing else.

"Let us delve into more specific examples," Professor Nott suggested, her calculating eyes once more roaming towards Harry.

Seeing that he would not take whatever bait she was offering, she took it upon herself to prod him in the desired direction.

"Mr Evans, I have it on very good authority that you have mastered the patronus charm and did so when you were aged thirteen."

And there it was.

Harry could only nod as most of his peers stared at him in various states of disbelief and scepticism.

"Is that true, Evans?" Charlus asked appreciatively.

"Bollocks is it," Arcturus Black denied.

Harry frowned at the boy.

Were it a pureblood student that had been called upon for such a feat, Black wouldn't be so dismissive.

"What's a patronus charm?" Poppy questioned.

"Ah, well the patronus charm was developed to fight the effects of the Dementors. We covered them in your third-year classes," Nott reminded them. "The patronus acts as a shield initially, but when the charm is mastered, it takes on what is knows as its corporeal form, an animal that best represents you, or someone you see as a guardian. It is a very difficult spell to master, and one that very few have the patience and diligence to do so."

"Because it is almost impossible," Abraxus Malfoy huffed. "Even my father cannot do it."

"So, if Evans can, does that mean he is a better wizard than your father, Malfoy?" Tiberius asked with a smirk.

Abraxus scowled.

"Go on, Harry, show us," Charlus encouraged.

Releasing a sigh, Harry stood and drew his wand, his memories of Sirius becoming his point of focus.

"Expecto Patronum," he whispered.

The grim that had become familiar leapt from the tip of his wand, the blinding light of his spell bathing the room in a white glow.

Harry was not often one to be smug, but he turned towards both Arcturus and Abraxus, a challenging look adorning his features.

"Bloody hell," Charlus muttered, in awe by the magic on display.

He was not the only one, and even Professor Nott was suitably impressed.

"What is it?" Ogden asked curiously.

"It's a dog," Malfoy snorted.

"No," Arcturus denied offering Harry a speculative look. "That would be a grim."

"A grim?" Abraxus questioned with a frown.

"An omen of death," Arcturus muttered. "It is one of the symbols of my family."

With a flick of his wand, Harry ended the spell and took his seat, irritated that he had been pushed into demonstrating the spell. He would rather have done without such a display.

"Excellent work, Mr Evans. Take twenty points for Gryffindor."

Harry merely shrugged in response.

"For next lesson, I would like you to find other examples of situational specific spells that we can attempt to master. That will be all for today, Mr Evans, I'd like you to stay behind for a moment."

"We'll wait outside for you," Charlus muttered.

Harry nodded appreciatively and waited for the room to clear whilst he pondered what the woman wanted with him.

"That was an extraordinary display," she praised when the final student had left.

"Did you have to make me do it in front of everyone?" he asked.

"I did, and with good reason."

"Then I'd like for you to explain."

The corner of the woman's mouth twitched in amusement.

"Mr Evans, you are a very talented student, that cannot be denied, but I needed to see it for myself," she began. "I have been watching you closely these past weeks, and you complete the work set to a high standard, but you are better than you are showing me, and the rest of the class."

"That doesn't seem to be a good enough reason," Harry sighed.

"No, but the fact that you are a half-blood with a rather influential boy holding a grudge against you is," Nott returned evenly. "That display of magic will not prevent Malfoy from acting eventually, but it will make him consider it. Unless the magical relatives you have can stand against the Lord of his family, then it is in your best interest that the grudge is forgotten. I say this as someone who understands the way of purebloods."

"You mean purebloods like you?" Harry replied.

"Exactly," Nott agreed, much to his surprise. "I understand better than any because I have seen it. I watch my own brother bending over backwards to accommodate families like the Malfoys. If they take exception to you, they will make your life very difficult. I do not wish that for you."

"Why do you care?"

"Because you have more potential than you know and I would see you fulfil it," Nott answered simply. "I would like for you to come for one-to-one tuition with me two evenings a week. We will work on anything you like pertaining to Defence Against the Dark Arts, and I will even set you advanced work to complete. If you like, I will even teach you to duel. I think you would make an excellent duellist."

"A duellist?" Harry asked, taken aback by the offer.

Nott nodded.

"From what I have already seen, you could make a very profitable career from it, but that would be your decision. I think it is something you would benefit from at the very least."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

Having someone to duel against would be useful, and any further help he could get, a boon to his own efforts.

"I'd like that," he replied.

"Good, then we will begin next week on Monday and Friday evenings after dinner," Professor Nott decided. "Until then, and moving forward, do try not to antagonise the Malfoy boy. If he is anything like his father, he could prove to be rather troublesome for you."

Harry snorted.

If he was anything like Draco and Lucius, he would prove to be a snivelling coward.

"I won't antagonise him, but if he comes for me, I will not back down from him."

Nott smiled.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," she returned with a conspiratorial wink.

With a new plan in motion, Harry gathered his things and took his leave of the classroom, the unexpected offer and conversation he'd shared with the woman having left him taken aback.

"What did she want?" Charlus questioned.

"To tutor me," Harry replied.

"Bloody hell, she must think a lot of your ability to do that. I think only Minnie here has been offered that by Dumbledore since we started."

Minerva nodded, a thoughtful frown marring her features.

"Is that what you want?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"It can't hurt, can it?"

Charlus shook his head.

"You'd be stupid for turning it down. Say what you will about the rest of her family, Nott is good at what she does."

"She is," Harry agreed quietly, his mind already wandering to the task he intended on completing today.

"And we have the feast to look forward to," Charlus reminded them.

Minerva's eyes lit up, but Harry released a deep breath.

"I don't celebrate Halloween," he muttered.

"Why not?" Charlus asked.

"It's the date that my parents were murdered," Harry answered morosely.

"Talk about putting your foot in it," Charlus mumbled as he gave Harry a look of sympathy. "Sorry, Evans."

Harry waved him off.

"You didn't know. I just don't feel like celebrating it. I don't have good memories of Halloween, so I'll just go to bed early," he announced, taking his leave of the duo.

He hadn't lied.

The recent Halloweens had not endeared him to the idea of the holiday, and the death of his parents coinciding with that date only made it all the sourer.

Besides, tonight was the night he had been preparing for, the hours spent watching the map late at night, and his trips into the restricted section undercover of the cloak culminating to what he was to undertake this evening.

Carrying it out on this day merely felt fitting to strike his first blow against Voldemort.

When he arrived at the common room, it was as empty as he expected, and he had chosen to act during the feast so that his presence would not be missed. If past events were anything to go by, he would have a few hours to do what he needed to and be back in the tower.

Even if he were to overrun, he could claim that he had simply gone for a walk. Having revealed his reason to Minerva and Charlus for not attending the feast, they would come to his defence.

A part of him felt guilty for manipulating the situation to his benefit this way, but it could prove to be necessary.

'A plan that Tom himself would be proud of,' he thought, sickened that he was using subterfuge worthy of his foe.

Such tactic, as abhorrent as he found it, was admirable, and he grudgingly accepted that much of his would now revolve around it.

Checking the bag he had packed and had been adding to these past weeks, he consulted the map a final time before concealing himself within his cloak.

Releasing a deep breath, he exited the tower and began his descent towards the second-floor bathroom.

(Break)

"Do you think we should check on him?" Minerva whispered as she and Charlus were seated at the Gryffindor table with the other sixth years.

She was worried for him. He had not been himself all day, and learning the reason as to why, she felt awful for him.

Her relationship with her own parents was strained at best, but at the very least, they were still around when she needed them. Even her father, despite his views on what she was.

Harry had no one, and from what little he had mentioned to her during the hours they had spent together, he had lost his godfather too.

"I think he would like to be alone," Charlus said sadly. "You saw him, Minnie, he does what he is used to."

"Being alone?"

Charlus nodded.

"He might come to lessons with us, and even eat with us, but on weekends, do you see him?"

Minerva frowned and shook her head.

Not since summer had ended had she seen him on a weekend, and a sense of guilt filled her. Harry was more alone than Charlus knew, but Minerva did.

She made a mental note to spend more time with him, if he wanted to, of course.

"No," she admitted.

"He's a loner," Charlus shrugged, "and that's fine, but I'd like to think he likes us. He doesn't strike me as a person who would pretend."

Minerva sighed internally.

Of course, Harry liked Charlus, they were family after all, even if the latter didn't know it.

"I'll check on him later," she decided. "I'll give him some space first."

"I think that would be for the best," Charlus agreed. "Besides, it's a Hogsmeade weekend. He should be there with us. I'll bloody drag him along if I have to."

(Break)

The chamber was as he remembered it; the journey here much less impeded than the first time he had ventured here. There had been no Moaning Myrtle to avoid, no collapsed tunnel to navigate, and no Lockhart present to attempt wiping his memories.

All in all, accessing the hidden cavern beneath the school had been rather anticlimactic in comparison, though he was pleased by the lack of obstacles presented to him this time.

And here he was.

The cold, stone chamber, lined with serpent statues and a flowing stream on either side. It was no less eerie, and the knowledge that the basilisk he had once killed was only on the other side of the intricate statue of Salazar Slytherin only served to make the place more foreboding.

A shiver ran down Harry's spine and he instinctively reached for the scar near his left elbow.

The pain he'd felt was incomparable to anything else, though the speed in which he felt himself fading after having been bitten is what remained with him.

Pain was no stranger to him, after all.

With a deep breath, he slowly walked towards the statue, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in anticipation.

He had contemplated what he would do here for the past weeks, various scenarios playing over in his mind, something he had changed countless times.

He had considered the benefits of keeping the snake alive. Perhaps in the creature, he could find a powerful ally?

He had dismissed the thought having pondered it.

He may be a parselmouth, but a beast such as this was dangerous to all, too dangerous to be allowed to live within the school or to expose people to.

No, leaving it alive was not an option. Despite his potential ability to converse with it, the basilisk was a power unto its own, and even if it were to prove compliant with his wishes, it was not a responsibility he wanted.

His arm throbbed a phantom pain, reminding him once more of what had happened the last time he had been here.

There was no other way.

To ensure his safety, and those within the castle now, and in the future, the basilisk had to die.

It was for the best.

He certainly couldn't risk leaving it here for Tom to find when he arrived, and if Harry had learned anything of his foe, he was as resourceful as they came.

Even if Harry did manage to take control of the serpent, Tom would find a way to take it from him.

That was not a risk he was willing to take, and there was nowhere else for it to go where it would be safe.

It would be hunted, and were he to surrender it to the Ministry, they would only kill it themselves.

If anyone was going to do so, it should be him. If there was any benefit to be had from its death, it should be him to reap it.

He frowned at that thought.

Harry had never been one for greed, but there was a part of him that wanted to keep it all for himself, and if there was indeed worth in his kill, he wanted to benefit from it.

He had read that the venom, fangs, and skin were sought after in certain circles, each component all but worth their weight in gold.

Not that he could hope to bring in such a fortune.

No, he would have to resort to selling through dubious means, and that meant less gold.

It mattered not when he considered it.

He would still make a significant sum from the parts, just not as much as they were truly worth.

Of course, he would keep some for himself. The skin, the venom, and fangs could prove to come in handy sometime in the future.

The rest, however, would go.

Knowing he was taking it all from Voldemort only made it all the sweeter. Even if Tom were to find the chamber, there would be nothing here for him.

Harry would make sure of that.

He was pulled from his thoughts by an incoherent hiss sounding from behind the statue and he stiffened.

The basilisk had woken.

Carefully, he removed his bag from his shoulders and placed it on the ground, opened it, and removed a single box.

When he enlarged it, it was several times the size it had been, and he peered into one of the holes he had cut into the side.

To believe that a rooster of all things was the best weapon against such a spectacular creature bordered on ridiculous, but Harry remembered that Ginny, although possessed by Tom, had taken to killing all the roosters within the grounds.

That could only mean that they posed a threat to the basilisk, that Tom was willing to risk being caught in the act to kill the birds to ensure the safety of the basilisk.

If it proved to be so simple, Harry would be grateful, and if the crow of one would be fatal, the ten he had gathered should be more than sufficient, much to his relief.

Harry would be glad to be rid of the infernal birds he had harvested.

Feeding and keeping them clean had become quite the chore, and he did not even know how he would begin explaining if his roommates were to discover he had them.

Another hiss, this time accompanied by the unmistakeable sound of the basilisk slithering around its nest.

It had to be now.

Removing the silencing spell he had placed on the box, he kicked it over and the roosters flapped around the room, their crowing reverberating off the walls.

Immediately, a bloodcurdling shriek was heard from within the confines of the statue, and sporadic thudding from the thrashing of the basilisk as it panicked.

Harry covered his ears for several moments, afraid they may just bleed from the protests of the enormous serpent.

When he noticed the roosters had calmed, he tentatively un-cupped one of his ears and was met with silence.

There was no screeching, no hissing, and no movement.

Remaining hidden beneath his cloak, he closed his eyes and spoke the words that Tom Riddle had a little over three years prior.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four."

Either Salazar was as egotistical as Tom had been, or the latter had found a way to use this as the phrase to open the statue. Given that it opened even now, Harry could only deduce the former was true.

The sound of stone craping as the mouth of the statue opened made him press his eyes tightly closed and listen for any other sounds coming from within.

Nothing, and as he squinted through the smallest gap he could, he caught a glimpse of the serpent, limp and unmoving, surrounded by pieces of rock it had dislodged during its final throes of life.

"That's a bloody relief," he muttered, opening his eyes fully.

Drawing his wand, he shuffled closer until was within distance to prod the creature with his foot.

Having done so, he withdrew quickly, still concealed by the cloak as he took in the sheer magnificence of it.

For something so deadly, it was indeed a marvel, and though it was a shame to have slain it, Harry knew he had made the right choice.

The basilisk was a liability, to big a liability for a sixteen-year-old to handle.

Knowing that he had perhaps dawdled a little longer than he had anticipated, he set to work removing a sample of skin from the softer underside of the corpse before donning his dragonhide gloves and pulling away a loose fang.

Cutting into one of the venom sacks, was the most delicate part of the job, but he remembered what he had read in one of the books he had found in the restricted section on magical creature physiology.

The Venom Sack of the serpent is easily ruptured, and you risk losing much of the valuable fluid if too big an incision is made. The smallest of holes will suffice to drain, as it is better to be careful and patient than to rush the procedure.

Although the text was not specifically discussing basilisks, Harry thought it best to heed the advice. The creature before him was a serpent after all, only much, much larger.

Preparing a large vial and removing the pocketknife Sirius had gifted him, he slid out a thin spike that would work perfectly to perforate the sack.

Placing the tip gently against it, he pressed until he felt the tool penetrate, and slowly withdrew it, placing the vial below to catch the viscous, green liquid. When the flow began to ease, he squeezed out the final dregs and inserted a stopper whilst revelling in just how much venom he had extracted.

The vial could carry a pint and it was more than half full. He didn't know the value of it in millilitres, but with how rare it was, he could potentially make a lot of gold from this alone.

That, however, would have to wait until he could look into it. For now, he needed to return to the common room before his absence was noticed. He would return to gather the rest of the basilisk over the coming days and weeks, or more likely when he had found somewhere to offload it.

Again, an enormous corpse of a highly regulated creature was something he did not wish to be caught with.

Exiting and sealing the chamber once more, he made his way through the twists and turns of the tunnels before he reached the entrance to the long pipe that led back to the second-floor bathroom.

This had caused quite the snag in his plans when considering his timings to carry out his task.

Climbing up the pipe would take hours, and he wasn't even sure if he could accomplish such a thing, so once again, he had taken to the library to find a spell that could assist him.

Here, he had discovered one used by miners who gathered the precious metals that went into galleons.

The spell itself was a variation of a levitation spell, though much more practical for exiting caverns. Harry had practiced with it in the room of requirement, so much so that he was confident with it, and had even found ways to incorporate it into his duelling.

It was a very useful spell in many ways, but for now, he only needed it for its intended use.

Pointing his wand to his feet, but looking into the tunnel, he focused on propelling himself upwards until he passed through the entrance into the bathroom.

It was a rather taxing undertaking, but it had gotten easier the more he had used it.

Relieved to be out of the chamber, and without injury, he made sure the entrance to the chamber was sealed before consulting the map.

The feat had evidently finished, and the rest of the students were now in their common rooms.

He had planned to be finished before this had happened, but had prepared accordingly, and seeing that there was no one within the vicinity of the bathroom, he took his leave of it and headed back towards Gryffindor Tower.

(Break)

"I think I'll check on him now," Charlus announced as he stood from his chair by the fire in the common room.

Minerva nodded, relieved that he was doing so.

"You checking on Evans?" Prewett asked.

Charlus nodded.

"Well, he's not upstairs," the other replied, peeling a banana and removing half of it with one bite.

The boy never ceased to amaze Charlus with the amount he could eat and not gain an ounce of weight. He'd watched only a short while ago as Prewett had polished off five helpings of food and three desserts.

"What do you mean he's not upstairs?" Charlus asked worriedly.

Prewett shrugged.

"His curtains are open, but he's not in his bed."

"Bollocks," Charlus muttered. "It's not a good idea for him to be wandering around alone, especially if Malfoy is planning something."

Minerva nodded worriedly as she too stood, drawing her wand as she did so.

"We'd better look for him."

"We had," Charlus agreed.

"I'm coming," Prewett declared. "He's one of us," he added simply.

Charlus offered the boy a grateful smile as he stalked towards the entrance to the common room, only to be caught short as it opened, and an unharmed Harry entered.

"Where have you been?" Charlus demanded.

"Just for a walk," Harry replied, taken aback by the frantic tone.

Charlus shook his head.

"Bloody hell, Evans, we were then coming to look for you," he sighed. "it's not safe to go around the castle on your own at the moment."

Harry frowned.

"Because of Malfoy," Prewett reminded him.

Harry snorted.

"If Malfoy is stupid enough to try something, it will be him that regrets it."

"And as I said, he wouldn't do anything directly," Charlus reminded him. "Don't underestimate him, Harry. Abraxus might be all talk himself, but he will stoop to whatever means necessary to get back at you. Just, be careful."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"I will, I just needed to walk."

Charlus offered him as look of sympathy.

"I get that, I do, but don't make yourself an easy target for them. If any harm comes to you, then there will be trouble."

Prewett nodded firmly.

"And lots of it," he added. "You're one of us, Evans, and we look out for our own."

Minerva smiled and took Harry by the hand.

Leading him to a chair by the fire, she sat him down.

"You're coming to Hogsmeade tomorrow."

It wasn't an invitation or request, but a command.

"You're going to take a day off from whatever you do on the weekends and come with us. You could so with the fresh air and some fun."

"She's right," Charlus offered supportively. "We can show you around and get some lunch. I will do you good."

"And I don't suppose I have a choice?" Harry asked amusedly.

"Not unless you want to spend the day in my pocket having been turned into a mouse," Minerva returned.

Harry chuckled and nodded.

"Alright, I'll be there, but I'd like to go to bed now. It's been a trying day."

When Minerva gestured that he could do so, he quickly headed towards the staircase to the boys' dormitory.

"Eight O'clock, in here," she called after him.

She received no response, but Harry would be there.

"Well, he didn't take much convincing," Prewett mused aloud.

"Well, he's learnt not to get on the wrong side of Minnie," Charlus chuckled. "We'll give him some time before we head up. Merlin knows he needs the sleep."

"So, what until then?" Prewett asked, his eyes wondering to the clock above the fireplace.

(Break)

His roommates had tried to be quiet as they followed him to bed some thirty minutes or so later, but Harry had heard them anyway, and then the ruffling of the curtains as Charlus pulled them apart slightly to check on him.

What Harry had learnt about his grandfather since he had met him was that he was a kind and caring boy. Often, he could be found helping out the lower years with their homework, or simply just spending time with them. Because of this, he was highly thought of by the Gryffindors, a big brother of sorts to most.

Harry too had grown to respect him, and not just because of their familial relationship.

Charlus was almost exactly how he imagined his own father would be, just with less focus on pranking.

He would go as far to say that they had formed something of a friendship. Not a day went by without Charlus waiting for him in the common room to shower after Harry had spent the earlier hours of the day in the room of requirement, and there was never a meal that he sat alone.

Both Ogden and Charlus had welcomed him, and even Prewett had, though he was not as close to Tiberius and the Potter heir as one may expect. Damon Prewett had friends in Hufflepuff he spent much of his time with.

Not that Harry had anything against the boy. He too was friendly enough, would speak when he was present, and work with the other sixth year boys on their assignments.

He just simply had other friends too.

Above all, what Harry found most odd was how easily he found himself settling into this new way of life.

He often found himself pondering just what Ron and Hermione were doing, if it had been discovered what had happened to him.

Regardless, it mattered not. He had been here for nearing five months now and he had long since accepted there was no going back, even if the pang in his chest at the thought remained.

Still, things could always be worse, and they would become so in the years to come. That was why he worked so hard on his magic when everyone else slept, why he pushed himself to be better every day.

His future was not assured, and though they didn't know it yet, it wasn't for anyone living here.

With each passing day, the impending conflict with Grindelwald and his ilk drew closer, and Harry was determined to be ready for it.

During his musings, he must have dropped off, because when he next opened his eyes, the sun had risen, and he had missed his opportunity to continue with his preparations.

With his promise to meet Minerva in the common room, he would not have time, but perhaps a day off would serve him well?

He had been pushing himself exceedingly hard since he had arrived.

With a flick of his wand, he checked the time, and seeing that he had a couple of hours before she would be waiting for him, he removed one of the parseltongue books that Nicholas had given him from his trunk and began to read.

At first, he had resisted doing so, the gift of the magic he possessed courtesy of his soul being tainted by that of Tom Riddle, but there was something niggling him in the back of his mind, urging him to seize the advantage he had been gifted.

Eventually, he had succumbed, had accepted that being a parselmouth was who he was, even if it should never have been.

The books Nicholas had given him were interesting, full of useful spells that could be used in many situations.

If truth be told, he was excited that it was only him and Voldemort that could wield this magic to his knowledge, and Tom would never have these books at his disposal.

Each of them was handwritten and had evidently been passed down the Slytherin line until they came into the possession of the Flamels, each member of the family having added their own discoveries and spells along the way.

Quickly, the books had become some of his most treasured possessions and he had taken to reading them often and even incorporating them into his daily practices.

"You up, Evans?" Tiberius yawned some time later. "Remember, we are going to Hogsmeade today."

Harry smiled as he shook his head.

"I'm up, Ogden."

"Good," the boy replied. "Get ready, you'll need a decent breakfast in you before we go."

Packing his books away and gathering some clothes from his trunk, he showered before heading to the common room where Minerva, Poppy, Charlus, and Ogden were waiting for him.

"Oh, don't you look dashing," Poppy commented as he reached them, giving him an appraising look. "I've only ever seen you in robes," she pointed out.

She had dressed herself in a long, blue, polka dot dress that flared at the bottom, complete with a black bow tied around her waist and a black hat to match it.

"Looking sharp, Evans," Charlus offered with a nod.

Minerva smiled almost triumphantly at him.

He had chosen to wear a grey and black chequered jacket, with lighter grey trousers, brown shoes, and a white shirt. The ensemble was completed by one of the hats that Minerva had picked out for him, one that matched his jacket.

The girl had opted for a dress similar to Poppy's, though hers was green in colour and the bow and hat a dark tartan.

"Very nice," Minerva commented as she looped arms with Poppy and the two led the group from the common room and towards the Great Hall.

"Have you been to Hogsmeade before, Evans?" Charlus asked as they sat down for breakfast.

Harry nodded as he returned the glare of Abraxus Malfoy from the other side of the room.

"A few times," he answered when the Slytherin looked away. "Not for a while though."

"Well, it doesn't really change much I suppose," Charlus mused aloud, helping himself to some toast, "but it's much needed time away from the castle, and there's always something to do there."

"What do you like to do?"

"The Three Broomsticks is a must for lunch," Charlus replied, "and Zonko's."

"Don't forget Honeydukes," Poppy interjected. "I'm going to get some peppermint clotted cream."

Charlus shook his head disapprovingly.

"If it's not honeycomb cream, then you've got it wrong."

Poppy eyed the boy indignantly.

"Here we go," Tiberius sighed.

What ensued was quite the heated debate between the two as to which clotted cream was better.

Harry and the others merely looked on in amusement until Minerva stood, having finished her breakfast.

"We can sit and argue about it all day, or we can actually get on the carriage and go to the village," she pointed out irritably.

Charlus nodded.

"Then I can show Poppy here why the honeycomb cream is the best."

"And I can drum it into your thick skull that the peppermint is better."

The two of them glared at one another for a moment before Minerva huffed and headed towards the grounds, followed by the others.

"Are they always like this?" Harry asked Ogden.

"You mean stubborn and pig-headed? Yeah, that's Charlus and Poppy."

Harry snorted, frowning as he they reached the carriages.

He hadn't paid much attention to the Thestrals during the trip to the castle at the beginning of term, mostly because he had been preoccupied with the arrival of the other students, and also, seeing them served only to remind him of what had transpired at the Ministry.

Now, however, as he gazed upon the ominous creature at the front of the carriage, he felt himself filled with warmth.

What had happened at the Ministry had not been their fault. If anything, they had gotten him where he needed to be in what he believed had been his moment of need.

"Hello," he whispered as he reached the misunderstood beast.

"Evans, what are you doing?" Charlus asked curiously.

"Just speaking to the Thestral."

The other teens looked at him confusedly and he smiled.

"Unless you've seen someone die, you won't be able to see them," he explained.

"You mean to say that there is a creature there, that we can't see?" Minerva questioned.

Harry nodded and gestured for the girl to approach. When she did so, he took her by the hand and gave her a look of reassurance.

"Calmly," he urged.

She nodded as he placed her hand on the Thestrals nose, her eyes widening.

"There's something really there," she whispered. "What does it look like?"

"Like a thin horse with wings," Harry answered. "They're brilliant," he added reverently.

Minerva smiled warmly at him.

"You really like them, don't you?"

Harry nodded.

"They helped me when I needed them," he replied quietly, giving the Thestral a final pat before walking back to join the others.

"What did you feel?" Poppy asked.

"I don't know, but it was gentle," she replied, "and warm."

"Well, I suppose you learn something every day. I'll ask Professor Linton if we can cover them," Charlus mused aloud.

Linton was the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, and as far as Harry was concerned, only Hagrid could match him with his passion for his profession.

"Anyway, should we head off?" Tiberius asked.

Charlus gestured for them to enter the carriage, and Minerva took a seat next to Harry, still holding his hand.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I never really thought about what drew the carriages."

"Neither did I until I could see them."

"Your godfather?"

Harry shook his head.

"A friend," he answered cryptically.

Minerva did not question him further but squeezed his hand and the teens remained silent for the rest of the journey.

"Honeydukes first then?" Poppy asked challengingly, her eyes firmly on Charlus who chuckled once they had departed the carriage.

"Alright, Poppy," he conceded. "You can show me just why the peppermint cream is better, but if you're wrong, I'll be very disappointed in you."

Poppy raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm never wrong, Potter," she replied, eliciting another bout of laughter from the boy as the group followed her towards their first stop of the day.

To Harry, the village appeared as it always had; the same cobbled streets, and even the same shops, though perhaps the paintwork was a little fresher?

Still, it was nice to be here, and as he entered Honeydukes, he was reminded of the times he had visited Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione, and also, the very useful shortcut between here and the castle he would take advantage of when needed.

"See, I told you it was better," Poppy said triumphantly as Charlus sampled the peppermint cream.

He nodded thoughtfully before grimacing.

"No," he disagreed. "It's not for me, but now you have to try the honeycomb one."

Poppy mumbled under her breath but accepted a spoonful of the offered treat and shook her head.

"Not sweet enough," she declared.

"Then maybe you should agree to disagree," Minerva interjected.

Charlus nodded, and Poppy did so reluctantly.

"Ah, why did you ruin the fun, Minnie," Tiberius grumbled, "they might have actually started throwing it at each other."

"Because I would rather not be barred from here," Minerva replied evenly. "If you want to throw cream, you can do it outside."

She deflated as she realised the mistake she'd made, and Ogden turned towards Poppy.

"What do you think? Shall we go outside and throw cream at each other?"

His tone was almost hopeful, and Harry shook his head at the boy.

"Judging by the look you are getting, Tiberius, I think that is a no."

The boy pouted, and Poppy dropped her scowl.

"Don't worry, Ogden, it's quite often that I have the urge to throw something at you," she responded before heading towards the till.

"She didn't mean cream, Tiberius," Charlus sighed as the other boy appeared hopeful once more.

"More along the lines of a full bedpan," Harry added.

"Well, that's not very nice," Ogden muttered.

When the group had paid for their purchases, they left the sweet-smelling shop behind and moved on to Zonko's, where oddly enough, Charlus seemed to be in his element.

"Really, Potter?" Poppy questioned as he filled a basket with itching powder, stink bombs, and some rather dubious looking jelly.

"It might come in useful," Charlus defended, "especially if McLaggen continues being a berk this year. I'll show the jumped-up sod."

"Well, if it's for McLaggen, go ahead," Poppy encouraged. "You'll get no protest from me, but if any of that finds itself anywhere near me, just remember, I have access to potions."

Charlus conceded the point with a nod.

"Understood," he replied with a winning smile.

Poppy hummed at the boy, and they once again paid for their items before leaving.

It had begun to rain, as was typical of Scotland this late in the year and Charlus frowned.

"Lunch then?" he suggested.

The group readily agreed and headed towards The Three Broomsticks to escape the downpour.

"Wait!" Harry suddenly said, pausing the others in their steps.

Something felt wrong.

He couldn't explain what it was, but something had stopped him in his tracks, and though he couldn't see anything amiss, he could feel it prickling at him.

"Harry, it's raining," Minerva complained. "What is it?"

Harry frowned and gestured for her to be silent.

Still, he could see nothing, but the feeling remained so he closed his eyes and focused on it.

If he were truthful with himself, he didn't know what he was doing, but it seemed to be the right thing to do.

That feeling, it was almost foreboding, an essence on the periphery of his being that felt simply wrong, and with his eyes closed, it only got stronger.

"Wait here," he muttered, casting a disillusionment charm over himself before sneaking around the side, ignoring the calls of his housemates to return.

The charm was next to useless in the rain, and he found himself lamenting that he had left his cloak behind, though that would have served him little better in the circumstances.

It was as flawed in the rain as the charmed, but what he had was better than nothing.

At least this way, he would not be spotted immediately.

It was when he came to an alley a short distance away that he came upon two figures, seemingly searching for something, and as he drew nearer, he recognised Stebbins and another Slytherin boy he did not know the name of.

"Where are they?" Stebbins huffed irritably. "They can't have spent that long in there."

"They'll be here in a minute, just shut up," the other boy growled, "and remember, Evans is the target. Leave the rest. Malfoy was clear on that."

"I know, Bulstrode," Stebbins huffed.

Harry shook his head at the boys.

They planned on attacking him when he was with four other people? Were they that stupid, or had Malfoy promised them something to make it worth their while to take such a risk?

The latter was most likely.

Regardless, Harry felt his anger begin to boil, and having taken aim with his wand, he fired a bludgeoning curse at Bulstrode, sending him sprawling into the street from the impact to his back.

"Who's t-there?" Stebbins demanded, turning to face where the spell had come from.

Only a few seconds later, the boy had been disarmed and he found himself tied in knots to a nearby drainpipe, staring down the shaft of Harry's wand.

"Looking for me?" Harry hissed, dropping his charm.

Stebbins stared at him wide-eyed, shaking his head as he fought to free himself from his robes.

"No," he denied, looking around for any that might assist him.

There was no one.

With the rain still pouring, the other students had taken refuge in the shops, and Bulstrode was in no position to help.

"Funny that, considering I heard what you were saying.,"

"We d-didn't mean anything by it, just some fun," Stebbins tried.

"On behalf of Malfoy," Harry added.

"He made us do it!" Stebbins protested.

Harry seized him by the front of his robes and pulled him closer so that they were nose to nose.

"Then tell Malfoy to stop being such a snivelling coward and face me himself," he seethed. "Tell him from me, Stebbins that if he wants to get at me, then I'm ready for him any time."

"HARRY!" Minerva's voice sounded. "Harry, let him go," she implored. "he's not worth the trouble."

Harry continued glaring at the pale Stebbins before shoving him away.

"Tell him," Stebbins," he reiterated.

The boy could only nod as he pulled Bulstrode to his feet and the two scarpered.

"Bloody hell, Evans, what happened?" Charlus asked.

"They were planning to ambush me," Harry explained, his eyes still on the retreating Slytherins.

Charlus released a deep sigh.

"I'll have a word with Black," he assured Harry. "He will not be happy about this."

"Then you'd better be quick about it, because Abraxus Malfoy is really starting to piss me off."

"I will," Charlus promised, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get back to the castle."

Harry shook his head.

"No, we were going to have lunch, and that is what we will do."

"You sure?" Tiberius asked. "I mean, I'm famished from all that excitement. You must be starving."

Harry laughed at the boy as he nodded.

"Come on, Ogden, let's get you fed, shall we?"

Tiberius smiled eagerly and the teens continued on their way to the pub.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Minerva asked.

"I'm fine," Harry answered honestly.

He was, though there was something within him that wanted Malfoy to continue with his efforts, just so he would have an excuse to put him in his place.

Just where that thought had come from, he could only guess, but he knew that it was no coincidence that since the ritual, he had become much more willing to confront others, to anticipate conflict, though feeling it approaching was something new.

Could Voldemort do that? Sense danger in such an odd way?

Probably, Harry decided.

If it was something that could be learned, he was certain that Tom Riddle would have found a way.

He always did, a habit that Harry had also recently adopted.

Was this truly down to the ritual?

He would need to speak to the Flamels to find out, and though he was not opposed to these changes within him, they were becoming more noticeable.