I don't own Harry Potter...I didn't own Harry Potter last chapter or in any of my other stories either, and I won't ever own Harry Potter...so yeah...I disclaim Harry Potter...

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I appreciate all your comments and especially your questions which I hope to answer...eventually...

Anyway, here's your next installment...I think it gets a little loopy toward the end, but whatever...the whole thing's loopy

Intent, The Second

Harry scratched his ear and smiled at Hermione, who was again staring at him like he might be the devil himself. Harry really needed to figure out just who had set her on him so he could find some way to get her off his back.

It was becoming a bit stifling, not to mention she could catch onto what exactly Harry was trying to hide, and worst yet: Harry's mouth was starting to hurt because of all the smiling he'd been doing.

…and it wasn't even working!

Harry turned his attention back to McGonagall, she wouldn't have anything to do with Hermione's behavior, but she might know about it and be unable to do anything about it. There couldn't be any concrete reason to be watching Harry; it wasn't like anyone truly knew anything about him…but his behavior must have changed in order to have it pointed out to Hermione.

Dumbledore was the likely culprit…or maybe someone just pointed out something Harry did and Hermione latched onto it. Whatever happened, it was becoming annoying rather rapidly.

Honestly, how did these people expect Harry to off a dark lord working under these conditions?

Bloody impossible was what this was.

Harry turned his thoughts away from that matter and placed his attention on McGonagall, she was talking about theory, and Harry never had much of a mind for Transfiguration theories. He picked up his quill and resumed his elaborate doodling as McGonagall lectured.

Hermione gave Harry one last suspicious look, and Harry was sure that was because he was actually "paying attention" and returned to her neatly organized notes. Class continued on in this manner until a parchment appeared before Harry right on top of his drawing, luckily for him it appeared inside his illusion so no one saw it.

The parchment looked older than sin, but Harry knew that it wasn't. It was carefully rolled up and held by an extremely elaborate bow crafted from four thin ribbons of black, bronze, silver and gold.

Harry was sure Dumbledore wouldn't be happy that he'd lost such a precious artifact.

Harry spent the rest of the class smiling smugly at the priceless relic that had presented itself to him.

That night, at dinner, Harry's eyes were continually drawn back up to the head table where Dumbledore was deep in a whispered conversation with McGonagall about something that made Dumbledore's brow furrow deeply.

Harry hid his smirk behind his sandwich and spared an amused glance around the hall…or at least it was amused until he discovered that Ginny was walking in and there just so happened to be an empty seat almost right next to Harry.

Harry only barely managed to contain a curse and wondered just how un-Harry Potter-ish it would be to get up and run out of the great hall screaming like a girl. Harry wasn't quite sure why the whole school seemed to be convinced that Harry really needed to shack up with Ginny, but it was frankly disturbing.

Not to mention Ginny was icky.

Or that Harry had been shacked up with a hot Ravenclaw by the name of Lisa Turpin for the past year and a half.

And despite the fact Ginny's weirdness had led to some amazing jealous sex, Harry was going to go crazy if he had to put up with her through One. More. Meal.

Ginny noticed him staring at her in clear horror and disgust, which somehow went completely over her head, and she smiled in a way that made Harry worry for the well-being of his immortal soul. Then a shy first year girl saved his sorry, sorry ass.

She slid into the seat where Ginny was clearly heading and said softly, "Um, hi, I was wondering, since you were so nice earlier, if…you could...you know help me with something."

Well, considering you just saved my appetite… "What can I help you with?" Harry asked brightly, leaning precariously close to Hermione's plate, just to peeve her.

The girl looked shocked he'd agreed, Harry wouldn't be surprised if the other upperclassmen had snubbed her in favor of trying to get Harry to shack up with Ginny. Then she smiled quickly and pulled out a textbook.

"Trnafigurations?" Harry asked, "not exactly my most knowledgeable subject, but I can certainly help you with anything you'd need to know."

"We're doing toothpicks into sewing needles," the girl explained, "and I keep making these things that look like mechanical pencil leads, except they're not graphite."

Harry leaned over the table and attempted to try and fix the girl's problem, he kept one eye on Ginny and tried not to smirk when she glared at the first year girl and headed over to her year mates, which was as it damn well should have been, but Harry was definitely regretting his decision to go into the Gryffindor House since all it had gotten him was...Ginny…he forced down a grimace.

Okay, Harry was exaggerating; he'd gotten more out of Gryffindor than his own personal freaky stalker girl. He almost had himself convinced now, but every night before bed he still continued to look over the list he'd created telling all the good things about Gryffindor just to make sure.

Okay, so Harry was exaggerating again, the list was actually a farce; he'd created it because Ron and Hermione had gotten a bit too comfortable with Harry's belongings in the past year or two, and so now if they looked through his trunk they would find something they didn't want to see…a candidly honest list of the good things about Gryffindor.

A direct quote: "great friends like Ron and Hermione that are so willing to accept me and worry for my well-being that they randomly go through my things…like prison wardens."

Harry'd caught them looking at him with tight-lipped, guarded expressions one day and he'd known that he'd won that particular battle…at least momentarily.

But Harry was used to fighting, and normally winning battles. Because that's all that his stay at Hogwarts had consisted of: battles.

Harry couldn't say he minded them…so long as he continued winning.

That's where everything hinged.

"Can you help me with potions too?" the little first year girl asked brightly, "I've been having a lot of problems in there."

Harry grinned and shook his head replying, "I'm a bit beyond help in potions so you'd probably be way better off if you tracked someone else down for help in there. Now for your magic classes—I'm your man."

"Potions isn't the only course you're doing poorly in," Hermione informed Harry, "She should probably get help from someone else, who has time to spare from their studies. Someone who's better than average at coursework."

Harry grinned at the first year and then at Hermione and replied, "Just because my grades are poor doesn't mean I don't have any aptitude in a subject. Besides, this is just first year stuff; I think I have a pretty good hold over them, considering I'm average in my current coursework."

"Which means that you're—?"

"Which means that I have to have an understanding of the basics before I can do well on something that requires the basics, right?" Harry asked curiously, trying to keep from getting testy. He managed very well…but he's had so many years of practice it's hardly surprising.

But Hermione's suspicious nature would either have to be stopped or directed elsewhere…where's an evil dark lord when you need one?

"What about charms, then?" the girl asked brightly.

"Charms it is," Harry declared, "what seems to be the problem?"

As Harry looked down at the girl's book to see exactly what it was that had been lost in translation, Dumbledore and McGonagall finished their conversation and Dumbledore stood up and quickly slipped out of the Great Hall. McGonagall remained in her seat, stiff, with her lips pursed.

Harry fought down the wry bit of amusement he felt and corrected the little first year girls' wand form. Hermione looked surprised Harry even knew what the correct form was for the levitation spell.

Hours later, Harry was sitting on his bed, curtains as closed as he could get them, with glowing balls of light produced by his wand floating near the canopy of his four poster bed.

It lay before him.

One of the most priceless artifacts in Britain, Harry was sure. He was also sure that certain people would be looking ceaselessly for this little bit of living history.

"And what?" Harry questioned the inanimate object, "Shall I do with you?"

The gold and silver ribbons glinted a bit, but that was no response.

Harry shook his head, and allowed himself to dwell on the situation a bit more. Then he slammed a hand over his mouth, to keep from laughing out loud…or giggling like a schoolgirl.

Harry looked up at the canopy of his bed, where the little orbs of light floated it a bright, fuzzy mass, and allowed himself to say it out loud…hopefully no one would hear him…

"I have the deed to Hogwarts."

The orbs exploded into darkness, and Harry couldn't keep one chuckle from escaping...well, wasn't this a twist?