Harry Potter and Type Moon

by Undying Soul98

Harry Potter discovered a certain Visual Novel series in his youth, so became a bit too prepared for a world of Monsters and Magic. With the Church on the move, Vampires actually doing something, more Dark Lords than you can shake a stick at and a much bleaker future to look forwards to... truly the world needed a Hero, and it might just find one.

4. Third Enchantment

Third Enchantment

AN- Sorry for the really long wait. This baby here is the love child of several potent writers blocks, a dozen rewrites, lots of research, a person with a real life and many mock exams, as well as various anime and video games to play/watch. I think I have an excuse or two. Even so, I really didn't like the way that this has turned out. The thing about Harry Potter is that nothing exciting fight wise really happens until the end of the year, or until later years. I'm emulating Warhammer 40K, so I MUST have awesome fights in somewhere, but I'll need to wait until enough divergence occurs for it to make sense. So at the moment I have to keep this story progressing purely on funny moments and character interactions, which probably aren't my best points.

Still, I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway, despite it taking an age. I was originally going to have it connect up to the next chapter too, but I felt that 20,000 words should probably be the maximum, so that it would have content and be a generous length, but not be too long. At 15K I figured it was as good a place as any to stop.

Disclaimer: I own my plot and any OC's that someday show up. As much as I wish though, I don't own either the Nasuverse or Hpverse... darn. Oh well, if I owned either of them, I'd probably screw them up, so perhaps its for the best.

In Harry's opinion, you go to schools in order to learn. Harry liked to learn, therefore he liked Hogwarts a lot. Who wouldn't share his opinion on the matter? Even if one wasn't interested in furthering their own knowledge, picking up the ability to break the laws of physics and perform Magic would make anyone eager to get a formal education.

Thus with classes starting within only an hour or so, Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast with bated breath, eager to eat quickly in preparation for his first lesson, Charms with the Gryffindor's (Checking his timetable, Harry had most of his lessons joined with either Gryffindor or Slytherin,

only Potions was with the Hufflepuff's).

Hermione was as equally excited as Harry was, smiling in anticipation and babbling inaudibly. "And we'll be learning the Levitation Charm eventually! According to one of the prefects, Professor Flitwick is really good! And- and-" Harry nodded, filtering it out. He knew that he should have been paying attention to her, but he knew how excited she was: he was as equally anxious. It was just that she was talking so quickly that Harry felt it would be a better usage of time to mentally prepare for the day instead.

The Boy Who Lived was about to sit down when he noticed that Neville, over at the Gryffindor table, seemed rather sullen. Upon a second glance, the Longbottom youth was sat at the end of the table and had only a half finished bowl of porridge before him, clearly rather nervous for upcoming Charms. It was a well known fact that Neville considered himself sub-par, almost a Squib, so such self doubt was to be expected.

Harry was just annoyed that none of the other Gryffindor's were consoling him at all. In fact, he was all alone.

"Hey Hermione." Started Harry softly.

The girl blinked once or twice, having been cut off mid-sentence about Hexes. "Yes?"

"Is it against the rules for a student to sit at a table not of their own House?"

"As far as I'm aware, no." She bit her lip. "Why do you ask?" Harry merely pointed at the sullen Neville. Hermione internally debated the pro's and con's of going against the norm and sitting with her friend. On the one hand, it would make her stand out and could be against the rules, on the other Neville was a friend (She assumed), so she had to help him if possible! It was all so hard! She didn't want to go against authority, but she also knew that morally she should help Neville!

"Look, I'm going to go sit with him." Harry shrugged. "You coming?"

With the choice happily taken from her hands, she agreed to march over to the Gryfindor table and plant herself upon one of the open slots next to Neville, amongst much surprise from the rest of the table.

"Hey, Neville." Greeted Harry.

"Yeah, hi Neville." Hermione reached for some toast to try and relieve the glances she was receiving by occupying herself by eating.

"What are you doing here?" Neville asked genuinely confused. "Aren't you a Ravenclaw?"

"Yeah?" Harry helped himself to some bacon and eggs, then poured some orange juice. "What of it?"

"Then why aren't you at your own table then?"

"Because we wanted to sit next to you." Responded the glasses garbed boy like it was obvious. "Its not against the rules to sit on other tables... we think."

"You think?"

"Yeah, not completely sure though." Harry began to quickly shovel his warm scrambled eggs into his mouth, Hunger was still the enemy.

"But why did you want to sit with me?" Added Neville, still somewhat confused. Weren't they in different Houses? Didn't the fact that they no longer shared a House mean that they couldn't be friends?

"Because we're your... friends." Hermione sternly said, almost lecturing the other boy for his ignorance. "I mean, I think we're friends. I'm not very good at such social things, but when you spend time with one another then want to do so again, doesn't that make you friends?"

Neville sniffed briefly, then rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. "I thought that we couldn't be friends... that you didn't want to be friends. I thought that since you were Ravenclaw's, you'd be to busy studying to want to hang out."

Harry snorted. "I like to think that I break conventions and shatter stereotypes. Yes, I like to read, but that doesn't mean I'm opposed to physical labour. It doesn't mean I'm a study freak, far from it, I hate homework!" He was certain that had he been on his proper table, that he would have been castrated by a group of angry learning freaks. "Its pointless, we should just be taught by the teacher in the time it takes to do the work, rather than do homework!"

A smirk graced Neville's features, while a frown embraced Hermione's. A Ravenclaw who disliked homework? Perhaps they weren't joking when they said they wanted to be his friend?

"Why aren't any of your dorm mates here?" Asked Hermione. "Surely you must have made some friends over dinner?"

"Not really." Admitted the boy. "They were all talking about Quiditch, and I felt a bit nervous so kept quiet."

Hermione sighed. "That's sort of useless, Neville."

The boy flushed. "You can't talk."

"I suppose not." That didn't stop the huff escaping her lips. "At least I tried to talk to my House mates over dinner, at least until they hushed me and told me how Ravenclaw dinners work." Coincidentally, Ravenclaw mealtimes included eating quickly and methodically without talking or thinking unless absolutely necessary, because if everyone kept thinking then nobody would eat and a quarter of the school would starve.

Harry grinned and said nothing, merely looking over the antics of his two probably definite friends in amusement. It was certainly an odd feeling, having friends. In his Muggle school Harry had never really opened up to his class mates, even after they stopped picking on him, so the two sat with him were truly his first friends, apart from the voices in the back of his head, whom probably shouldn't count anyway.

"Well, well, well." Began one voice which was far too cheerful for any first day of term.

"What is it I see here?" Asked the second very similar sounding exclamation.

"Are some ickle Ravenclaws visiting our table?"

"I suppose-"

"We'd better-"

"Greet them ourselves!" Like a ten foot weight thrown from above, two boys threw themselves into the slight spaces next to Harry on the bench, forcing nearby students to grumble out load and shuffle way, then unaware of the irritation that they had caused, they threw their arms around the apparent celebrity in a joking fashion.

Harry looked at the first boy, a ginger youth with a grin as equally mischievous and upbeat as his tone. "The names Fred."

"And I'm George." Added the boy on the right, whom was identical to Fred.

"Or am I George?" Asked Fred Maybe George.

"I don't know George? Am I really Fred?" George Perhaps Fred was as equally confused.

"I think that half the time I don't even know which twin I am sometimes." Conceded Fred Potentially George sheepishly. "I think I'm in a Fred mood today."

"Very well then, I can be George for now." The newly decided George agreed. "Now, who do we have here but Harry Potter himself?"

Harry didn't immediately respond, probably due to confusion. His mind was blank. "Whaaa?"

Rin mirrored him. "Whaaa?"

"I think those two put together have nearly as much insanity as Harry potentially does." Decided Shiki with a shudder, unsure of if this was a good thing or not.

"Anyway, we were-" Started Fred once more, only for George to cut in.

"Attracted here by the rumours of a Ravenclaw with a dislike-"

"For homework." Cut off Fred, attempting to get the final word. Harry ignored their odd verbal habits, since clearly it was just how they were.

"So are they true?"

"I'm afraid so." Acknowledged Hermione with a sigh. Somehow, the girl knew that she would be performing that action a lot in the near future. "He's a traitor to the cause."

"Ah well." Fred threw the issue aside, and shuffled up to a quickly getting awkward Harry, who was unsure of if the gingers were being friendly forwards or just a bit to forwards in the other sense. Harry dared not ask.

"Either way, we're just happy for another to embrace the ways of chaos so eagerly." George nodded his head enthusiastically. "The things the three of us shall achieve!"

"No."

"But the potential pranks! A Ravenclaw who dislikes homework is suspectable to the allure of pranks! Imagine a Ravenclaw willingly using his brain to cause mischief!" George began to salivate, such an occurrence was unheard of!

"Scram." Remarked Hermione.

"Very well." Fred nodded his head solemnly and stood up, his twin brother followed. "I suppose we shall have to perform the full presentation when he is alone."

"I think that we have a Powerpoint somewhere..." George waved at Harry. "See ya later Harry, hope you join the Prank Side!"

"Bye." Informed Harry, a smile on his face.

"Did we mention we have Pranks!?" Fred nearly shouted as he was heralded away by an equally jubilant George. The trio fell into silence for a moment or two, before Neville spoke out, stating what he and Hermione were both thinking.

"Did that just happen?" Asked Hermione in utter confusion,

"Did they just attempt to make me join their pranking duo?" Remarked Harry rhetorically.

"It might be best to put such things out of mind. We have Charms soon..."

XXXXXXXXXX

Charms with the Head of Ravenclaw House, Professor Flitwick, was an interesting experience. According to one of the other Ravenclaws, Flitwick had once been a Master Duelist in his youth (Much to Harry's surprise), so Harry had been unsure of just what his lessons would be like. The Boy Who Lived wasn't disappointed, it turns out. Charms as a subject seemed very similar to the Nasuverse's Alteration technique; it was a line of Magic which centres around giving objects properties that they did not previously have, such as giving a feather the property of 'flight' or a chair the property of 'dancing across the room'.

"Just think," Drooled Rin, speculating at the possibilities. "adding properties to an object is all well and good, but what if Charms can also add CONCEPTS to an object?"

Harry could imagine such an idea very well, and equally desired to see if Charms could mess around with the concept of an object. The possibilities were endless! In the Nasuverse, fights normally resolved themselves in a relatively straightforward manner (In Harry's opinion, and in his opinion only), through the balancing out of concepts. Shiki defeats his foes by cutting their 'lines of death', using his ability to perceive the concept of death to win; Shirou was specialised towards the very concept of swords, recreating artefacts of impossible power and antiquity to battle; while others in the universe like Archer and Lancer had Noble Phantasms, the crystallisation of LEGENDS THEMSELVES, with powers over this idea that Nasu so loved to toy and play with.

"You being able to charm something to act with the same conceptual power as Gae Bolg would give me a heart attack, or break it..." Complained Shirou lightly, while Rin hushed him in favour of laughing like a lunatic.

"Quite literally in fact." Giggled Rin, picturing an armoury filled with weapons able to pierce the enemies vital organs no matter what.

Either way, Charms was guaranteed to be an interesting topic to study.

Transfiguration quickly followed Charms, Harry assumed that it would be an equally interesting subject to study, since it was taught by Professor McGonagall, so he had high standards for the first lesson.

When Harry arrived, he could have sworn that the teacher in question was guzzling Aspirin like an addict to get rid of the sure to arrive headaches, but he wasn't sure that his eyes hadn't been playing up.

In the end, when she began the lesson she was professional enough to ignore her belief that Harry was going to somehow to find a way to blow something up.

In fact, she was deathly serious once she actually began teaching, with good reasons as well. Basically, according to her, there was a lot that could go wrong with Transfiguration if used improperly or incorrectly... things such as mutilation, disembodiment and death. While Harry's own Transmutation was next to identical in the application and idea behind it, there were so many associated risks that Harry hadn't even realised that he felt foolish and idiotic for even developing his Transmutation technique in the first place.

"Children," Began the elderly woman. "I would feel much safer if Transfiguration was taught fourth year onwards, considering the sheer stupidity that can be found with giving eleven year olds the ability to turn anything into anything else. I would personally refrain from teaching this subject until you are all much more mature."

Harry looked at Neville, whom had an expression of such intense nervousness that it looked like he was almost crapping a brick. A large, pointy, uncomfortable brick. In direct contrast, Hermione was the image of rapt attention, eager to learn.

"Alas, to properly teach even OWL level Transfigurations, early development is necessary to grasp both basics and complexities alike, so I must teach you, despite my dislike for such a thing." Her gaze narrowed. "But, for the duration of your stay at this school, you must understand a single fact."

She cleared her throat. "Transfiguration kills." Silence, unease. She let it continue for a beat, then carried on. "As many of you may or may not know, Transfiguration is only temporary. Complete transformation is utterly unnatural, to such an extent that even the world itself must revert the transformed object back to its original form at some point just to balance out the laws of physics so we don't accidentally destroy the universe!"

"The universe!?" Voiced one Ravenclaw student defiantly. "Surely spellwork could not destroy the universe, or else nobody would be stupid enough to use it... wouldn't they?"

"Yes, our power could potentially destroy the world. We are simply lucky that existence is so good at correcting errors. The world has a set of laws which it governs quite strictly, so while Magic does have the ability to bend, or sometimes even bend these laws of reality, its effects are never permanent. There is always a cost, a balancer, a payment for our hubris... whether it be our Magic, blood or our very souls. For example, you pay for spells with Magic from your Magical Core, energy is given out to counter the force of using the impossible."

McGonagall took a moment to catch herself, to ensure she got back to the actual topic at hand, just to make sure that Harry didn't figure too much out. The Scottish woman might have been acting a little too paranoid, but she had good reason. Even if no one believed her, a large chunk of her very self knew that Harry would someday attempt to crack open the universe if told about its laws too thoroughly, simply to make a point. Harry Potter and Reasonable Logic would never be found in the same sentence... ever.

"As I said, Magic is only temporary. This counts doubly for Transfiguration. The act of Transfiguration includes imposing your will over reality through your wand to overwrite the worlds opinion on what an object is; your mental image of a turnip is so strong that reality is forced to concede that the desk before you is a turnip, so transforms it using the prompt which you advise."

At this she frowned. She needed to get to the point, then stab it at the children until they learnt that ignoring her was Bad. "But what if you ate this turnip? Eventually the world would wise up and return the turnip to a desk... only it would then be floating around in your stomach. Mr Potter?"

"Yes." The Magic user responded, suddenly sitting much straighter on his chair.

"Ever felt a large slab of wood gradually appear in your stomach, until it tears through due to its mass and shape?"

"No."

"Well don't ever attempt something as stupid as that then." Harry decided not to point out that she had assumed that he would one day try something that stupid, which was a bit insulting. Surely he wasn't the only person that had the potential to mess things up to such an extent... surely... hopefully... maybe.

"Okay," Conceded Harry, "Perhaps McGonagall was onto something when she singled me out. I was rather infamous back with the Dursleys for messing up things even without meaning to."

"Cough, COUGH, Aunt Marges Burning Curtains Incident, COUGH, cough." Barked Rin.

Her cat like eyes wandered over the other shocked children. "The same goes for any transformations including food, water or gas; they will all return to their original materials, leaving bits of this and that floating around in your bloodstream, your bladder, your stomach and Merlin knows where else. If when you Transfigure something, it can be eaten, drunk or inhaled... please return it to its original form and tell an adult, because if not you'll probably kill yourself."

Harry really liked Transmutation and consequently Transfiguration, but there were so many dangers, and he was only eleven, meaning that Harry decided that experimentation in this subject could wait. It could wait...

XXXXXXXXXX

During the following days, Harry also experienced Herbology, Astronomy and History of Magic classes, the former was with Neville and the Gryffindor's, the latter two were with Slytherin. The fact that he had lessons with Slytherin students was not disappointing, merely irritating, since Malfoy always seemed to have some backhand insult to give, some reason to assume that he was superior to everyone else.

He found the subject matter... adequate. Not bad per say, but not quite as intriguing as McGonagalls or Flitwicks lessons. Stargazing, gardening and listening to history lectures from a person that decided not to die when he was killed wasn't really on the young boy's agenda upon learning of the existence of Hogwarts.

The only important point to note was that when Harry had Herbology with Neville, he had discovered that the other boy had an unnatural affinity for the subject concerning Magical plants. The Longbottom boy's fingers were so green that he swore that he regularly underwent photosynthesis. "Either that or he has an Origin or an Element of plants, maybe even a Gardening Skill of EX..." Rin snorted. "It would be rather cool if he did, actually."

On the Friday morning, the only subjects Harry had yet to have were Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions. One he was looking forwards to, the other he was not.

Harry was in the Great Hall eating breakfast at his own table for a change (Neville had decided to sit with him to repay the favour), when he received his first letter of the school year, from one of the school's owls.

It read:

'Harry, I know we haven't met yet, but I used to know you're parents. We were good friends, and I'd like to meet you and hear how your first school week went. Perhaps I can tell you some old stories about your mum and dad? Anyway, come to my hut in the school grounds at around three, send back the owl with a response if you're interested.

Rubeus Hagrid, Gamekeeper of Hogwarts'

Now Harry knew a lot about accepting candy from strangers, but this time when the boy looked down at the yellow parchment making up the letter all he could see was a pretty damn irresistible treat: Knowledge on his parents. Harry had grown up ignorant of any details about his blood parents, thanks to the Dursleys, so any enlightenment would be marvellous. He wanted to hear tales of Lily and James Potter, he wanted to know about the ones whom had died so that he could live.

Harry appreciated that the role of a parent is sometimes to protect a child and sacrifice much in the process of doing so; he remembered how Kiritsugu had given up his ideals for his adopted son Shirou, quite fondly in fact. He found such a selfless act appealing. As such, he had the innate desire to discover more about the two enigmatic Magic users that had birthed him.

"Even if I don't actually know Hagrid, he seemed nice enough during the boat passage across the lake. Root, even if he was more intolerable than Shinji, I'd still bare his presence to find out more!"

Thus, the boy wrote back agreeing to meet at the arranged time.

Sometime during Harry's second slice of toast, Flitwick approached the technical celebrity and quickly warned him to be on his best behaviour with the Potions Master Snape, since the short man claimed that Snape had a grudge against all Potter's on principle.

Harry thanked him for his advice, finished his food, then advised Hermione for them to get going quickly. They set off, leaving Neville behind to eat, since his class was half an hour later, and followed a large group of Hufflepuff's heading towards their intended destination.

You see, another negative about Harry's soon to be teacher was the fact that he taught in a dungeon. If that wasn't ominous enough on principle, then he resolved to eat the ridiculous hat that the school had insisted he purchase.

Thus with great reluctance Harry dragged himself to the dungeon alongside an excited Hermione for his first Potions lesson.

XXXXXXXXXX

First impressions are rather important, vital, some might say. As such, seeing Snape swoop into the dark and cold room like some sort of demented bat only reinforced Harry's pre-existing image of Professor Snape.

"Silence." Commanded the cloaked man in a commanding tone saturated with authority, as he marched over to one side of the classroom. Everyone obeyed. "Firstly, I shall take a register." He proceeded to read off a list of names, saying each one with a unique talent to make it sound like your very identity was an insult.

At Harry's name he paused. "Ah yes. Harry Potter, our new celebrity." He sneered, narrowing his cold black eyes in Harry's general direction, before finishing the register and proceeding to actually teach.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death..." Snape looked over his new charges in dissatisfaction. "if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach, obviously."

Harry for one found this equally interesting and insulting. On the one hand a man who probably had an A rank in Item Creation concerning Potions and Poisons was going to be teaching him, but on the other hand the slimy git had just insulted him and everyone else in the room.

Harry shrugged. "Oh well. He's hardly as bad as someone like Kotomine." At least Snape openly admitted that he disliked them, instead of hiding behind a false persona like the treacherous priest.

"Potter!" Started the man suddenly. "Tell me something, what would I get if I mixed powdered root of of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"What?" Harry didn't have a clue what either things mentioned were. He was pretty sure that they hadn't appeared in the early chapters of the Potions textbook that he had studied briefly. Meanwhile, Hermione and several Ravenclaw's hands shot up, while some of the Hufflepuffs in the lesson looked they were going to wither under the Potion Masters keen glare.

"The correct term is 'pardon', Potter. I will not tolerate incorrect manners directed towards me within my own classroom." Harry wondered if Snape was normally like this to everyone, or if he was just in a really, really, really bad mood.

"Sorry sir." Offered Harry, eager to get this issue out of the way and actually learn something. "I don't know the answer to your question."

Severus Snape's signature Sneer reappeared. "Tut, tut, tut. Clearly fame isn't everything."

Harry wanted to kindly inform Snape that fame has absolutely noting to knowing the Magical equivalent of obscure pub quiz answers.

"How about this question then? Where would you search for a bezoar, if I asked for one?"

"I'm not sure... sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Harry wanted to kindly inform Snape to shut the hell up, since he had been reading his books non stop since he had gained them.

Snape ignored Hermione and the other Ravenclaws who still had their hands up. "What is the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?"

"Well how the Root should I know that?" Retorted Harry indigenously. "Do you expect all of your students to have memorised the entirety of their school textbooks within a single month of owning them? Do you get off asking trivia pursuit? Do you even like children?"

"Two points from Ravenclaw for disrespectful conduct." Stated Snape.

"Seriously, aren't you here to teach us and not to ridicule us and lord over our lacking Potions knowledge? Why don't you actually try teaching us first, before acting so damned superior?"

"Another point for backchat." Snape smirked. "Keep digging yourself a hole, Potter. I'll happily fill it in for you."

"Isn't that antagonism towards minors? I take back my claims to you getting off on trivial pursuit. You're like Atlas, you get off children's tears!"

"Five points."

"Harry!" Hissed Hermione, who had placed her hand down by now. "Stop, you're going to loose all the house points that we've gained this week!"

Harry ignored her. "And isn't this whole point deduction thing a bit unfair since all I'm doing is pointing out why you're being so unreasonable?"

"Another five points for that, now shut up." Snapes glare was very insistent on obedience, so Harry decided to obey... for the moment.

"There's a time and place for everything." Insisted Rin. "We can get our revenge later!"

"Now to answer the questions that Potter was too disrespectful or too lazy to learn, asphodel and wormwood makes a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death, a bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat and will cure you of most poisons and monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant." He returned his attention to the rest of the class. "Well? Why aren't any of you writing that down?"

Harry now wanted to kindly shove his foot up Snape's ass. "Perhaps you should have mentioned you wanted us to make notes before you began harassing student or students?" He muttered quietly.

"For that cheek, another three points. I advise you stop now while you're ahead."

Harry was normally rather happy to follow the commands of those in authority, teachers in particular since they were normally most wise. Snape was an exception. Flitwick mentioned that the man had a grudge, and while Harry could ignore the fop, he didn't really want to.

"Harry, please stop!" Hermione was almost pleading now. "That's sixteen points lost already, you'll be ostracised by our house if you lose any more within the first week!"

"Fine." Grunted the boy who thought of himself as a Magus. He could shut his trap if not for himself then the sake of his house mates, his friend and his desire to learn.

Harry was certain that things would get worse before they got better.

XXXXXXXXXX

He was correct, that lesson did degrade after that point, as did the day decrease in quality following it. It seems that Snape's ability to suck the joy out of learning could diffuse to even when he when he was not strictly there. It was almost as if Severus Snape carried the concept of 'Joy Sapper', or spent his free time using an invisibility spell to stalk around the school and subtly manipulating events to make everyone more miserable than himself.

The thing which disappointed Harry the most that day was not Potions, since he had been expecting that treatment based around what Flitwick told him, but rather Defence Against the Dark Arts.

He had been tremendously excited, bounding up to the classroom early like an enthusiastic dog leaping for a stake, only to have his good mood shattered by disappointment.

You see, earlier in the week, one of the Hufflepuff's had mentioned during Herbology class that the Professor of DADA, Quirinus Quirrel, had left the school for a gap year, where he went to Albania, gained his turban for having killed a zombie, fought a hag and killed some vampires while he was at it.

This might not sound like much, but Harry was raised believing the Vampires were the pinnacle of inhuman power, even beyond that of a Heroic Spirit or a Demon. He had always carried the belief that meeting Dead Apostles and True Ancestors alike guaranteed you a certain death, since they were so inhuman that they literally COULD NOT be classified in the same league as humans.

Nearly immortal, unkillable, bloodthirsty, sometimes deserving of pity, but normally fiends of the highest level, possessing Reality Marbles and Marble Phantasms (the ability to either override the current reality with a new one via a perception of the world so fundamentally alien to humans that it literally recreates the world, or to work with the world itself to cause mysteries with Gaea's permission and will); you don't ever fight one and LIVE without being someone as powerful as Shiki or Ciel!

As such, Harry entered the lesson early, desiring to speak with his teacher, and was severely disappointed.

"Professor Quirrel!" Yelled Harry as he knocked on the classroom door. "Can I talk to you?"

"I-I s-suppose!" Came a startled reply. Moments later after the sound of several chains being unlocked, the pale and shaking form of Quirrel opened the door, releasing a poignant odour of garlic into the hallway. "P-Please come in!"

Harry complied with the man's request. He was a killer of the deadliest being imaginable, therefore he deserved respect. Although, he certainly seemed more jittery than he had expected him to...

"P-please sit down." Quirrel gestured to one of the desks. Harry sat at the nearest seat and shook his head to himself.

"No... I suppose that killing an Apostle or two must wear on your nerves. Undoubtedly, this speech impediment must be unintentional!"

"W-What is it you wanted to talk to me a-about?"

"I wanted to congratulate you, and to tell you that you must have balls of steel."

"P-Pardon!"

"You killed a vampire!" The boys eyes sparkled as he emphasised this point. "The fact that apparently you met multiple ones MUST mean you are a great and terrible man, Professor Quirrel!"

"N-Nonsense." Quirrel shoved the issue to one side. "Isn't the weather lovely today." He raised rhetorically.

"Powerful, badass AND modest!" Harry bowed his head until it touched the desk. "Truly you are a great man!"

"I-It was the garlic, you see." Elaborated the teacher reluctantly and quickly. "Vampire r-repelling is all in t-the garlic! Garlic, and l-lots of it!"

Harry respectful smile slipped. "Garlic? You held off and potentially killed Vampires with garlic?"

"Y-y-yes?" Quirrel gathered himself "Y-yes! Garlic! T-that's all you need."

"Oh." The blank look turned to a frown. "So what? We live in a world where Vampires are killed by garlic bread!" Two hands slammed onto the desk. "GARLIC BREAD?"

"GARLIC BREAD!?" Added Rin, Shiki and Arcueid in disbelief. "WTF?"

The turban wearing man flinched. "Y-yes. Garlic works, although sunlight and l-large bodies of water help."

SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! Harry forced his face to collide with the desk he was sitting at a few times before he was satisfied that he wasn't dreaming a horrific dream where Vampires really were sparkling little emo's that were scared off by GARLIC!

"P-Potter?"

"Thank you for your time, Professor." Harry staggered up like a drunk or a dead man rising. In his eyes something that once shone was gone, lost in the knowledge that apparently the world really was silly enough to have an organism with a natural fear of cooking ingredients. "I'm just going to go now... go and think life through a little. I mean, the Root, Magic, heroism?" Harry snorted. "Are such things worth pursuing in a world with monstrosities like them in?"

"D-don't be disheartened." The teacher went to a nearby bookshelf and pulled out a thin, crimson tome. "H-here. Its a book on basic vampire protection. Y-yes, their race is horrifying, but you don't need to f-fear them."

Harry took the book weakly. "I'm not fearful of vampires... I'm fearful for the Vamps, and for the sanity of one of the voices in the back of my head."

"Life makes no sense any more." Claimed the True Ancestor princess weakly. "Vampires stopped by garlic bread? Whatever next, a vigilante that dresses up like a bat? An orange ninja?"

"There there." Comforted Shiki softly. "At least they don't sparkle... probably."

"Tell me something... please tell me they don't sparkle."

"P-pardon?"

"I don't know why the image is in my head, just tell me that they don't sparkle. I don't care if they do or not, lie to me if you must."

"T-They don't sparkle?"

Harry slumped while Arcueid cried tears of equal relief and equal pity for her apparent real life equivalents. "Thank Root! Our Vampires just must be different to your Vampires! Yeah... that must be it!"

"P-Potter?"

"Why do you know my name anyway, I haven't ever seen you before, and I never introduced myself to you either?" Added Harry on the spur of the moment.

"Umm... l-lovely weather?"

"Indeed." Harry stalked towards the door, not caring enough in his current frame of mind to press the matter further. "See you in an hour or so for lesson, Professor... thanks for the book."

Harry left the room with only a slightly more confused Quirrel and a still sleeping Lord Voldemort behind him.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You okay, Harry?" Asked Neville half heartedly as he jotted down some notes from the book he was reading.

"I'm getting better." Decided Harry in a voice lacking any emotions as he chose to disregard his homework for a night and start reading the book Quirrel gave him on vampires. "I still haven't fully recovered from the terrible issues I have faced today, but I think I'll cope... somehow."

"Harry still refuses to say what Quirrel actually said to make him so disheartened." Hermione huffed and make a few notes herself, since she, Neville and Harry had all agreed to meet and do their homework in the library together, since Neville was in a different house, so they couldn't really see each other save for in the few lessons they shared together.

"I just want to forget about it."

The Witch in the group sighed. "I really don't get you sometimes."

Harry chose not to answer. Being told that her friend was a visual novel loving Type Moon addict, whom also happened to be slightly schizophrenic, probably wouldn't reassure her in the slightest. In his defence, he was only slightly schizophrenic, and he still liked to consider himself saner than most of the messed up society he had entered.

"Moving on," the girl cleared her throat. "How are you, Neville."

"Umm... not bad."

"On the other side of the coin, that also means you're not good either, so spill it." Harry gestured to the now sweating boy.

"Its nothing."

"Come on Neville." Hermione set aside her book for a moment, a rare occasion for her to do so while completing her homework.

"No... its nothing." Neville stated stubbornly.

"Suit yourself." The trio returned to silence, until a Slytherin first year called Blaise Zabini entered the library with one of his house mates, Pansy Parkinson. They glanced over at the trio and sniggered, but chose not to approach. Neville, however, immediately stiffened and stopped writing. The fan of all things green and growing gulped nervously, but ultimately chose to hold his peace and say nothing.

"Clearly," Thought Harry. "Neville has something against those two in particular." Either way, Neville was more courageous than he initially seems. Clearly he was troubled by something, but sought not to bother his friends with his worries and fears. Courageous, or stubborn. "Until he asks for help, I won't ask, I won't stamp on his pride by assuming that he can't possibly handle his own issues." Harry paused and regarded the two unaware Slytherin's more intently. "Although if I do find out on my own accord, and they've done something to Neville..." Harry left his thought unfinished, seeing that it was suitably more dramatic if sometimes he left Threats Unfinished.

Gilgamesh approved and made an 'eekkk' noise as he motioned a slit throat. Harry doubted he'd ever need to do something so extreme, but you never know...

The world might be one with Vampires that were driven off by garlic, but based on the presence of Draco Malfoy and his cronies, this was a world with stuck up nobles that didn't necessarily deserve to have all their limbs...

"Wow... you guys are a bad influence on me." He looked internally at Gilgamesh, who whistled innocently.

"Oh yeah!" Harry snapped his fingers as he realised just what he had forgotten. "I just remembered that letter I got earlier, do you two fancy coming with me to visit that Hagrid fellow?"

"I suppose that I could do with a break." Sighed Neville, still looking at the due of Slytherin's out of the corner of his eye.

"No thanks." Refused Hermione. "I still have a few inches of History to get through."

"Suit yourself." Oh well. He supposed that it could be a nice male bonding moment between himself and Neville, he checked the time, it was a few minuted to three. "I suppose we'd better hurry up if we don't want to be late."

XXXXXXXXXX

Harry ran alongside Neville through the castle and into the wide, green spaces that surrounded Hogwarts, while attempting to maintain as much dignity as possible for someone sprinting like the Blue was on their tail.

Finally, they came to a spluttering halt at the squat hut which housed the local gamekeeper (According to the Weasley twins, whom they had ran past on the way).

KNOCK! KNOCK! Harry performed the honours of knocking. A crescendo of barking rose from within, accompanied by shouting.

"Back, Fang! Back!" The wide form of Hagrid answered the door. "I said, back!" With seemingly little effort, the man practically threw the large black dog Harry assumed to be Fang back into the house. He returned his focus to the bemused Harry and the silently terrified Neville. "I didn't know yer was bringin' guests." He motioned to the rounder of the two. "Ah well, come on in. Make yerselves at home."

Harry complied, entering the hut. Inside it was just as Spartan as he had assumed it would be. Decorating the sole room there were various foods hanging from the ceiling, like pheasants and hams, while a copper kettle boiled in the centre of the room atop an open fire. In the corner of the room was a very large and squat bed (Presumably to fit Hagrid's muscle mass), with unmade covers and a patchwork quilt placed on top to hide the unmade state.

"Thanks for inviting us." Began Harry taking a seat.

"Y-yeah, thanks." Neville took the one besides him, and fearfully allowed the great dog to approach him. Much to his surprise, Fang began to lick his hand affectionately. It seems like Fang was a direct inversion of a Fluffy the Terrible, since he was an animal with a vicious name but a caring nature, instead of a ferocious beast with a cutesy nickname.

"Anyway, this is Neville, Neville Longbottom." The Boy Who Lived introduced his friend. "And I'm Harry Potter, although you probably already know this since you sent me the letter, I simply felt for politeness sake I should introduce myself."

"Yeah, well ahm Hagrid." With a kind twinkle in his beady eyes he offered an enormous hand to shake. Harry bravely shook it, only to nearly have his hand broken by accident.

"By the looks of him, he'd give Berserker a fair match in an arm wrestling competition." Exclaimed Shirou in slight awe. "Actually, scratch that. Berserker is so OP Hagrid would probably just lose less spectacularly than everyone else in the running."

"Anyway, I don't want to seem rude, but you sort of promised me some tales about my parents." Pointed out Harry. "Not that I don't want to be here, but we're practically strangers, so the only reason you succeeded in luring me here is because the bait was damned fine."

"Ah, right." Hagrid nodded his head, like it all made sense to him now. "S'ppose it was a bit much t' expect yer to come 'ere without a reason. Well, I guess I can tell ya some tales 'bout yer parents. We used t' be friends, so I hoped that the tradition'd continue." He scratched his head sheepishly.

"Who knows, perhaps a friendship could flourish." Remarked Harry. "Just saying that I'd like to hear some stuff about mum and dad. I'd... I'd appreciate it... a lot. I never knew them, so just hearing some stories would be nice."

Neville sent him a sympathetic look, but offered no words or consolations. Harry respected that, sympathies meant nothing, only action. If one understands you, nothing needs to be said for them to show their support.

Hagrid grinned. "Well, I've got some good'n's from back when they were around yer age."

For the next three hours Hagrid talked about Lily and James Potter. Harry spoke very little, only talking to ask Hagrid to elaborate on something he was conveying, while subconsciously nibbling his way through the larger man's extensive rock cake collection, requiring him to Reinforce his teeth without even realising it, just to chew them. The time passed by rather quickly, neither of the two noticing the time fly by, while Neville was respectful to allow Harry to have his moment. Merlin knows how much his gran's tales about his own parents had meant to him. Besides which, some of the tales were amusing.

Harry quickly built up a mental image of the two he had never met. Lily was the intelligent one, a lover of Charms and a studious individual, admired and respected by all of the Gryffindor's and other houses alike (Apart from Slytherin, but they didn't count). Wonderful kindness and a bright smile apparently accompanied her vast intellect and mind, fusing together to make one of the best types of people. Funnily, enough, for most of her school life, she had ignored James' rather obvious advances.

"A stubborn fool like yourself then." Joked Rin to one of the other mental constructs without alerting Harry, since he was engrossed in the past.

James however was the polar opposite, cocky fire to oppose Lily's cool humility. A prankster with an excellent sense of humour, famous for being a part of the Quiditch squad and a member of the equally notorious Marauders, feared by most teachers due to his various joking exploits, and a prodigy in Transfiguration to boot.

Still, even as Harry heard about what good people his parents were, even as he shed one or two silent tears for the loss of such great lives, he could sense that something was missing. Not the fact that they weren't there by his side, but that something big was missing from the tale. Hagrid mentioned that Lily had a best friend from before Hogwarts, but never followed up on this friend, and never spoke of him for any of the seventh year tales. That, and the fact that James seemed a bit off...

He didn't know how or why, but he couldn't put his finger on why something felt off...

Regardless, the sun eventually began to dip; Neville let loose a yawn. By now Harry wasn't even attempting to hide his slow, methodical tears. It was such a loss, such a terrible price had been paid that evening at Godric's Hollow. A terrible, unredeemable, irreplaceable loss. Harry had grown up without the love of a parent, had mourned never knowing them for the last ten years, but the message was being hammered in once more like a stubborn, bent nail.

"You're parents are dead. They didn't deserve to die." No, they hadn't deserved their fate, being mere footnotes in the history of the Boy Who Lived. He could almost see it, a world where he had grown up happy and loved by his parents, in a dream world where someone else (Say, Neville) had been the Boy Who Lived and lost his parents instead. Alas, such things were only selfish, impossible dreams.

Harry might have wanted the impossible nine time out of ten, but he knew that their death had long since happened, there would be no sudden recovery, no miracle. There had been a harsh price for victory over the Dark Lord Voldemort; Harry didn't like it, but he knew that the price was necessary.

"They're dead." Stated Harry. "I know this, I've known it for years. Why does my heart still ache?"

"Because that's what love is." Neville frowned bitterly. "Loving someone so much that when they leave you it never feels right again, even if you tell yourself otherwise."

"Speaking from experience?"

"I guess." Neville continued to frown, but shook it away quickly. "I suppose that one way to deal with it is to look at what you've got, and be glad that you have it."

Harry laughed. Neville was right, he was being silly. Silly, but human, for humans are silly creatures when compared to the rest of the animal kingdom. Humans were one of the few existences in the world to conceive the idea of death, and as such were one of the few beings that could ever mourn.

This was just like when he had lost his two disks, which felt like years ago. This wasn't a time for a freak out, or to have a Heroic BSOD, or to cry. Yes, crying was rational, but his parents had died long ago. Like Neville said, you have to look at what you do have and appreciate it.

Harry had a wonderful albeit unorthodox childhood (Once he looked past the dealings with his relatives), amerced in the gritty world of the Nasuverse. He was happy, he now had friends, he had ambitions, and he had voices in the back of his head. What more could he want?

Admittedly, a lot; but this was besides the point. If James and Lily had lived, it was guaranteed that Harry would not be the person that he was today. As such, he could accept his parents death, even if he didn't like it.

"Thanks... Neville." Harry wiped his wet eyes with his sleeve. "I think that this has helped a lot, so thanks for telling me all this, Hagrid."

"No problem." Responded Hagrid awkwardly, not really knowing what to say.

"Perhaps we should go back to the castle?" Suggested Neville.

"Yeah, I guess so." Life went on. Harry still had homework to complete, books to read and plots to make. This was Hogwarts, life always went on. Dinner had probably already finished, so Hermione would be wondering where he was. Harry didn't want to worry her; this would annoy her, and everyone knows that you never annoy silent, studious girls, since you must always beware them on a subconscious level.

"Its always the quiet ones..." Shirou informed, thinking of his Saber and her more rare... outbursts "Beware the Quiet Ones...".

And on that ominous note, Harry returned silently to the castle with Neville, both choosing not to speak to one another, lost in their own thoughts.

XXXXXXXXXX

That evening, Hermione and Harry sat in the moonlight of the Ravenclaw Tower and meditated. The emerald eyed boy was as unnaturally calm and still as he normally was during the duos sessions, although he seemed more solemn and silent than normal, while Hermione shuffled uncomfortably.

The girl didn't particularly mind the fact that she had to sit in an awkward position for at least an hour a day before she was allowed to slump off to her bed. Far from it, she was actually starting to really enjoy their private time together; it was... different.

Hermione was happy to do anything in the pursuit of new knowledge (With some obvious exceptions, many of which were taboo's originating from her Christian upbringing), so she was grateful to even be learning this apparently 'new' form of Magic. Even after almost two weeks she hadn't yet found that sensation Harry had pointed out, but she was eager to keep searching. She would always be happy to search, even if it was hard and sometimes nerve wrenchingly boring.

This was probably due to the company she spent the time with.

Harry Potter... Hermione found him to be an enigma, a mystery. Even now his motives and desires were vague at best and unknown at worst, since the history books about him knew nothing, while the novels and stories surrounding him were all unlikely and more than likely false. Luckily, Hermione favourite genre of books had always been detective stories like Sherlock Holmes; there would be nothing better for her to experience than to crack the case which was The Boy Who Lived.

Even at eleven, the Granger girl was certain that something big awaited her companion in the future. Whatever happens in the days of tomorrow, she knew that he would be there as a key player, the main character in the play which is life. Harry Potter would undoubtedly change the world someday, whether for a good reason or a bad one. It was shouted in his posture. It was screamed by his piercing glare. His very presence enforced this idea of 'importance'. How could he not someday hold the lives of many in his hands?

"Harry... what do you actually want to do in the future?" Asked Hermione softly.

"Nothing much. I wish to fulfil the oaths that I once set myself at a graveside." Harry smiled in the dim light, remembering the day that he said goodbye to 'Tsukihime' and 'Fate/Stay Night'. "You see, I feel that I can't ever break those promises. I directed them to the people that had shaped my youth and character, so it would be a terrible thing to break my word."

Likewise, Hermione smiled. While Harry was normally quite mad in his day to day interactions with people, his personality and temperament changing with his mood, sometimes he could be serious, just like now. She loved these moments the most, thus why she loved her late night meditations so. Harry could reveal such hidden depths to his character during these vulnerable, isolated, never spoken of again moments.

"But what are these exact goals?"

The boy didn't answer her for a few seconds, then he did. "I have always wanted the impossible. I dislike... no, I detest the cruel world we live in sometimes. Life isn't fair, save for in my dreams, so I want my dreams to walk in the daylights and not in the darkness. This is a very vague goal though. The honest truth is I don't really have any immediate or long term goals, although I do want to get a Magical sword, and I do want to work with the Unspeakables when I'm older. The point I'm making is that I don't know what I want to do with my life, who does at age eleven? I've only just entered the Wizarding community, and I am still inexperienced when it comes to life, so I have no idea just what cause I would want to fight for."

"Surely you must have some idea?"

"Not really. I have vague motivations. Nothing more, nothing less. To be honest, I just want to become the best Magic user that I can, to live on no matter what, to have a good time and to childishly act as a hero if ever I am needed."

"I never really saw you as having a hero complex." Joked the book loving girl.

"You'd be surprised. I was quite a romantic in my youth: heroic knights slaying the dragon and the evil wizard to rescue the princess." A snort. "Now I obviously see how childish this view is, that Good and Evil is just Black and White. It isn't. Life is made up of Greys; heroes are never wanted, nor should anyone ever aspire to take on such a hypocritical burden by becoming one. To be one is to ask for others to be in distress..." The image of a certain Counter Guardian who held a series of very important lessons for the hero Shirou briefly came to mind, although Harry shook those thoughts away. "But I am a child. I'm too young to be a full on cynic, so I'll believe in heroes and shining knights for a little longer, since the reality without such symbols isn't worth experiencing."

And so the duo sat alone and secluded in the empty, late night Ravenclaw common room, meditating and trying to learn more about Magic.

XXXXXXXXXX

Another few day passed, the weekend drifted past like an autumn breeze and the school week rolled in like a round, heavy rock; Harry marched into Quirrel's classroom without asking for permission and slammed the tome on vampires that he had steadily read through the previous week in his free time, onto the seemingly perplexed man's desk.

"This." Spat out Harry, like that single word was enough to describe his disgust. "This."

"Mr P-Potter?" Asked the Defence Instructor. "D-do you need me? B-because our lesson isn't until tomorrow, and y-you have intruded in my c-classroom."

"Yeah, I need you. I need you to explain this abomination to me!" Harry felt the need to re-slam the book on the desk, just to reiterate his frustration. The table was a helpful medium for relieving his anger.

"W-well, Vampires are covered in classes in Dec-"

"I don't want to learn about vampires!" Snapped Harry. "Far from it, I want nothing to do with them now! Large bodies of water I could understand. Holy Water could have some spiritual backing. Garlic... maybe. But mustard seeds! Are you once more telling me that this universe is so ridiculous as to have vampires that are actually repelled by throwing mustard seeds at them?"

"W-well, mustard seeds c-contain a less potent s-selection of nutrients than garlic, b-but they work."

"This is absurd! This is a textbook, so its right, meaning vampires here suck!" That was the crux of the matter. Harry Potter could not accept a world where Vampires were not the top dog, like Counter Guardian EMIYA could not permit an idealistic, younger version of himself to exist.

"M-Mr Potter." Stated Quirrel sternly. "P-please stop."

"No. I am going to rant and you will listen to me damn it! This is stupid! Wizarding World as a whole makes no sense, with stupid Dark Lords, incompetent Police services, DRAGON LIVER FOR SEV... EIGHTEEN SICKLES, and this is the topper! Beings repelled by garlic, mustard, rowan trees and iron as well? Unacceptable! By all rights, the vampires in your textbooks are portrayed as wusses by all accounts, able to be slain by such many methods that apparently we still need to learn about them in class up until year three!" Harry loved vampires with a passion, but they were supposed to be the pinnacle of power! His and Arcueid's ego's could not take such an insult without raging about it first.

"S-stop."

"By all rights, I actually look down on you now. Once I admired you for killing a group of un-killable vampires, now I actually pity the vampires themselves. They're like sheep, and you hunted them down so very easily. So now I spit on your accolades,Vampire Hunters mean nothing to me!"

"Stop." Quirrel repeated that word for a third time, with such urgency and authority that Harry found himself forced to act on it. Quirrel stood up to his full height and glowered in a much different fashion to his regular quivering self. "Stop. I am going to tell you a story, then you are going shut up and then get the hell out of my room."

Harry gulped. Quirrel was speaking without a stutter... in most contexts, this could probably be considered a bad thing. "Let me first tell you that those books are wrong, or rather, they are only partially accurate. The methods detailed would stop a newly turned or an undead minion, they're so weak and dilute power wise that such ridiculous things work. A real vampire though, one with centuries of experience... they're terrible!"

Quirrel began to pace back and front, anger radiating from him like steam. Harry simply wondered what the Root he had unleashed upon the world. "Given enough time, a True Vampire will gain the ability to recover from nearly all mortal attacks, gain strength and speed surpassing all mortal perceptions, and can sometimes even become impartial! Impartial! Very few spells can affect those of a similar nature to a ghost! I could go on; a True Vampire is a terrifying thing to face. That is why the Ministry have labelled them as XXXXX in their records, despite most being harmless or unwilling to harm others. Because those that do rise through the ranks would probably become XXXXX...X rank, if one existed."

"Oh..."

"Yes. Oh. The fools simply try not to think about the fact that they can do nearly nothing against such enemies, so in their curriculum's only speak of how to deal with the weakest, and advise the ignorant youths to apparate if they're ever felling out of their league." He snorted bitterly and rolled his eyes. "What a lie. Like a child would ever be able to analyse a situation enough to figure out when they were in over their head. Like the Vampire would ever allow you to escape. You don't run from a True Vampire. You die."

Harry gulped. He saw where this was going, and realised that he had unintentionally brought up Quirrel's Berserk Button subject- Vampires.

"You die. No questions asked. So you know what, you may laugh and mock poor foolish Quirrel, because I did not ever kill a Vampire. When myself and a group of explorers entered Albania, we were ambushed by two True Vampires, a very unlikely event. They butchered us. I ran. I somehow escaped." 'Thanks to a certain spirit I met... Voldemort.' Quirrel thought. "So yes, I am a coward. I ran. I am proud, for if I had stayed my body would have been drained of its life liquid without question. So laugh and mock me, but don't under-exaggerate their powers, or mock them, or pity them." Hollow eyes gazed into Harry's soul as Quirrel wrapped his thin hands round the boys arms, gripping his robes tightly. "If you meet one... run."

The Vampire victim let the boy go, whom stumbled, then pointed harshly to the door. "Now get the hell out of my office."

Harry complied.

XXXXXXXXXX

Since then, Quirrel had not said a word to Harry. The Vampire victim had returned to using his normal quivering façade and did not treat Harry negatively,merely impassively; he went out of his way to ignore the Potter boys presence.

Harry could accept this. Looking back on his actions, his confrontation with Quirrel had been foolish and pointless, a childish method of nursing his bruised ego concerning the subject of Vampires, by taking his annoyance out on one apparently weaker than himself. Apparently weaker. Harry now knew that beneath that nervous smile lay a sleeping dragon, a man that had seen many traumatising things and passionately radiated authority. Professor Quirrel was not someone that the Boy Who Lived ever wanted to cross again; he had learned his lesson about irresponsibly speaking without thought, thank you very much.

"Still," Mused Harry at the Gryffindor table with his two friends. "If such a personality lies within him, why does he not act more serious? I have seen him speak without his signature stutter, so why is he CHOOSING to speak like that?"

"Its suspicious." Remarked Rin.

"Yes." He agreed while nibbling some of his toast. "It IS suspicious. Nobody would willingly talk like that, not without reason, so there probably is one." What this reason actually consisted of, Harry did not know.

"I am so going to embarrass myself today." Neville's dilemma drew Harry back to the current topic of conversation across the entire table; Flying Lessons. Today was the day that the Gryffindor's and Slytherin's alike would stretch their wings and learn the basics of broomstick flight.

Naturally, Neville was convinced that he was going to fail.

Hermione, having already had her lesson alongside Harry the day previously, was furiously reading 'Quiditch through the Ages' to try and find the passages that had been useful to her, then relayed said tips to the frantic gardening enthusiast.

"Morning Harry." Greeted one of the Weasley twins as he sat to one side of Harry, the other twin taking the other side. The boy Who Lived sighed, they were here to give him another recruitment speech.

"What a pleasant day." Spoke the other.

"Indeed, its too-"

"Pleasant. Just the right atmosphere for a good prank, eh?"

Harry placed his toast to one side and appraised the two in turn. "As much as I find your constant attempts to recruit me rather flattering, the fact that you try to do it every time I sit at the Gryffindor table sort of lessens the impact."

"What can I say?" Fred shrugged (Harry was just assuming that the one on the left was Fred, it didn't really matter which one was which). "If you just came with us to view the full presentation then I'm sure you would be raring to join us."

"Perhaps."

"Seriously though," George spoke persuasively. "think of the perks! Join us and you will get a forty percent discount on all Zonko's products, the mischievous support of myself and my brother, twenty four seven access to our plotting lab, as well as getting a dozen laughs along the way! Not only this, you will also gain a full guide to all the secret passages of Hogwarts!"

"Don't forget the coupons!" Reminded Fred.

"Yes... we also have coupons." Finished George. "Well, what do you think?"

Harry thought for a moment, then answered. "Actually, the whole secret passages thing sounded like a pretty cool deal."

Hermione stuck her head out of her book at this point; years of experience had given her the ability to know what someone else is saying even while reading. "Don't tell me you're actually thinking of joining them?"

"Well, those were some pretty good perks." Reminded the boy.

"Come ooonnn!" The twins rubbed their palms together evilly, noticing that their prey was starting to give in. "Join the Prank Side! You know you want to! We'll even chuck in a years free membership, no fees whatsoever!"

"Wait, you have membership fees?" The bookish girl cried indignantly.

"Of course." George nodded his head sagely. "How else do we make any money?"

"Did someone say the 'M' word?" A dark grin applied itself to Harry's face.

"A money man, huh? Yep, we're thinking of going into the whole pranking market eventually; plans to sell some of our pranking goods are already being finalised."

"Yahahahaha!" Harry gave a short, quiet evil laugh (Since a long and drawn out one would simply be a waste of time), and because it was a given that he should do so in the circumstances. When a plan comes together, you manically laugh. Its a given, practically written down in black and white ink! People on the table who still weren't used to the Boy Who Lived's eccentric behaviour turned to him disapprovingly. "Why, I do believe I have a cunning plan!"

"Pray tell, Baldrick." Quoted Hermione tiredly. "I'm starting to see why Professor McGonagall always carries aspirin. Correction, I've probably known why for a long time."

"Go on then, we're always happy to hear a cunning plan." Informed George.

"Those damned Goblins wouldn't let me buy a Magical Laser Sword just because I legally wasn't able to extract the money needed from my vast fortune! I mean, who the hell do they think they are, following the law like that? Aren't banks supposed to be morally bankrupt? All the Muggle ones are at any rate! Just my luck that Wizarding Society is not only insane but also has a law abiding economic system as well! Well, I'll show them! I just realised that if I make the money, owning an OP sword is still within my grasps! They can't deny me as a customer if I have earned the cash through legal or illegal means!"

"Indeed!" Rin whole heartedly agreed with the boy. "With this plan we WILL make money large enough to purchase that damned Laser Sword! Admittedly, I don't really want one, but Money is Money!"

Hermione sighed. "How did I know?"

"Well, not quite what I was expecting your proposal to be." Admitted Fred. "But its a start, its a start."

"Fred?"

"Yes George?"

"I have a plan of my own." George stood up valiantly and stomped his foot onto the table in a dramatic fashion. "Let us create a potent money making scheme and assist Harry in raising funds to purchase his potentially hazardous and destructive weapon!"

"Indeed! Being the kind and generous men that we are, this is the only option!" Fred followed his twin's lead, stomping his own foot onto the table while many an onlooker's eyebrow was raised at the action. "Once he sees our ability to fund his escapades, surely he will put his Ravenclaw mind towards the glorious, higher purpose of pranking!" The final word was said with relish, as if a priest was speaking of his holiest copy of the bible. "Come, brother! Let us plot!"

"Mr Weasley, both of you! Please refrain from placing your feet in the morning breakfast!" McGonagall raised her voice from the head table (Since she had somehow honed a sixth sense when it came to detecting when the Weasley twins were going to cause mischief), seeking to show her displeasure. The pranking duo were disruptive enough on their own, so attempting to recruit the Potter boy into assisting them was just asking for the school to blow up. Mark her words, none may believe her, but one day, Harry would be responsible for demolishing half of Hogwarts; she would bet her glasses and hat on it. "Also, if you must plot, plot later, preferably when you won't be in the presence of others to corrupt! Or when you're at least half a mile away from Mr Potter... either is fine."

"Yes Professor." Both twins sat down. Meanwhile, Harry despaired.

"How come she always mentions me? Am I really that bad? Did I accidentally kick a puppy in her presence or something?"

At this point the post for the school arrived; an entire flock of owls descended on the students of Hgwarts and deposited their loads on their targets. Harry found the concept of a postal system based on owls amusing. Not exactly practical, but it was better than a postal service based on using postmen, that was for sure.

"I wouldn't trust Muggle Britain's postal service with delivering the paper, let alone anything of actual value."

Like normal, Harry didn't get any letters, nor did Hermione. A barn owl did bring Neville a small package, which relieved him of his anxiety momentarily. "Look," Neville showed his two friends and the Weasley twins (Whom were still sat with them) the small glass ball filled with thick smoke. "Its a Remembrall! Gran must have sent it, since she knows I'm always forgetting stuff. Basically, if you hold it like so, and if you're forgetting something, it'll glow red!" Before Harry's eyes, the smoke shifted to a crimson colour.

"Looks like you're forgetting something then." Spoke the sole girl in the group.

While Neville attempted to remember just what he had forgotten Draco Malfoy, whom had been passing by the Gryffindor table while leaving the hall, figured that it would be a fun idea to pinch the Remembrall.

"What's this then? A Remembrall?" Asked Malfoy mockingly.

"Why yes, yes it is." Said Harry politely, providing a deceptive smile as he did so. "I recommend you give it back."

"Why should I?" Responded the blonde haired boy.

"Because McGonagall is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out trouble, and it looks like she's about to walk over here."

"Fine." Conceded Malfoy as he walked away. Almost forgetting that he still had the pillaged goods, the Sytherin absent mindedly chucked the small, marble sized globe to Neville, whom promptly dropped it, cursed, then furiously scrambled underneath the table to pick it up before it rolled too far away.

"I don't like him." Declared Harry. "Admittedly I haven't really interacted with him much in class, and we've only spoken twice, but I still don't like him. I feel like someday I'm going to end up punching him in the face. I'm really looking forward to that day."

XXXXXXXXXX

At half three, Neville walked solemnly to his flying lesson, like a prosecuted murderer to the gallows. He was not looking forwards to it, since he would be all alone and without his friends, left to embarrass. Himself in front of the Slytherin's. Luckily, he had managed to pick up some useful stuff from Fred and George, whom were on the Gryffindor Quiditch team, so he felt that he had a greater chance than before of not screwing up.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Barked the stern voice of Madam Hooch when she arrived. Neville immediately disliked her, since she had an overly provocative tone to her voice. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!"

Five minutes of harsh instructions later, Neville found himself miraculously floating on his broomstick without falling off or crashing. "Fred's advice really was useful." He thought, all the while attempting to not look down. "Its all about confidence apparently... that and not making any sudden movements. Tilt to change direction, pull and push to go up and down."

Now that Neville was in the air, it didn't quite seem as initially terrifying. So long as he made no sudden movements, he wasn't going to be making a fool of himself any time soon.

Neville spoke to soon. One Slytherin student had accidentally crashed into one of his friends, causing a chain reaction of collisions, ending with Malfoy's minion Goyle knocking Neville from his broom.

CRASH!

Neville groaned. Luckily, he was able to stagger to his feet, having fallen from a height close enough to the ground that he received no obvious injuries. His uncle had thrown him from a window to try and test his Magic, so falling a few metres wasn't that bad.

Others weren't so lucky. Several students from both houses were forced to be sent to the Hospital wing, including Lavender Brown and Dean Thomas from Gryffindor and Vincent Crabbe from Slytherin. Hooch was forced to declare the lesson a disaster and finish it early, not that Neville minded.

It was only while he was leaving that he had realised that during the initial collision he had dropped the gift he had gotten from his Gran earlier that day; his Remembrall.

"Looking for this, Longbottom?" Neville spun, noticing that Malfoy and his sole remaining minion were standing conspicuously and chuckling. Clenched in the Purebloods left hand was a small, glass sphere.

"Y-Yes actually." He spoke, trying to seem braver than he really was. In actuality, he was terrified of the two first year students. "Can you give it back?"

"Hmmm... how about no?" The boy smirked nastily, chucking it up into the air in a smooth motion, then catching it again. "How about if I leave it for you to find somewhere? Somewhere like up in a tree, or in the lake."

"G-Give it back!" Demanded Neville shakily. "My Gran sent me that."

"I don't particularly care if your Gran sent it or not."

"It was a present." He insisted.

"So?" Malfoy wasn't a sadist, but he had to admit that picking on the defenceless boy was surprisingly fun. "Why would that influence my thoughts in the slightest?"

"Its not yours, so give it back." Neville's throat felt dry. Terribly dry, like sandpaper. By this point the few students still in the nearby area were looking at the conflict and pointing, whispering to one another.

"Again, why should that matter?"

"Because its not right." Neville had been brought up in a moral family. His Grandmother had been an intimidating woman, who demanded that all those that inhabited her home were to uphold her traditional values. Stealing was wrong, so if Malfoy had any speck of decency in him, he should give it back if he asked. Should.

"So? There's right, and then there's Right. It all depends, doesn't it? Its the winner that's always right, Father always told me that. In this instance I'm better than you, so I am right, not you. And I say that you don't need this, so I'm going to keep it."

"Give it back, or I'll, or I'll-"

"Do what? Go running off to Potter and Granger to solve your problems? Tell a teacher?" He scoffed. "There's no help to be found here. Look around, no one here's going to assist you, and you're friends aren't here either. If you tell a teacher, I'll just say that you're lying and that this is mine. So what are you going to do to get this back then?"

Malfoy was right, everyone here was apathetic towards him. No one was going to do the right thing and stand up for him; no one was going to tell a teacher; all they would do is stand there and gossip, they'd sit back and watch. The Bystander Effect at work, the more people there were the less chance that anyone was going to interfere.

Neville was alone.

He knew that all he could look to for help was himself and his friends, but he didn't want to bother them. That's why he hadn't told Harry or Hermione that the Slytherin's kept bullying him in the corridors whenever Harry wasn't around. That's why he had stayed quiet. In the Longbottom code of conduct, the only thing Gran wanted more than favourable morals was courage, for Neville to take responsibility for himself like his parents had.

Neville knew that he was a coward. He didn't want any confrontations with people, all he wanted was be happy with his friends, and maybe to look after some more unusual plants. Even so, he was in Gryffindor, the house of the brave and strong. Surely that counted for something? Surely?

"So then Longbottom, what are you going to do?"

"Give. It. Back."

"No. If you want it, come get it."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Let me get this straight." Stated Hermione as she appraised the condition of Neville while they were all sat at the Ravenclaw table. "Malfoy stole your Remembrall and refused to give it back. Then after you tried to manually take it back, he gave you a black eye and ran off with it?"

"That's about it." Remarked Neville tiredly while cradling his black eye. "I tried to get it back, but I failed."

"Why didn't you get a teacher, and why didn't anyone try and help you?"

"Well... no teachers were around, and all the students were useless."

"Quite right." Stated Harry. "People can be idiots, very few ever have the courage to go out and do anything when they see injustice or something wrong. That makes what you did all the more courageous."

"I failed though! I was useless, he practically laughed at me!" The Longbottom lamented.

"Failure is always relative. This isn't a loss; this is just a setback, the first round of many." Neville's friend narrowed his eyes. "This is only the beginning."

"What do you mean?"

"You said some of the Slytherin's were bullying you too? Well, Malfoy still has your Remembrall, so we need to get it back. By harming you, he and his house have declared War, so we shall retaliate in kind!"

"Harry," Hermione sighed, placing her palm in its usual resting place on her forehead. "No declaring war on opposite houses."

"He started it!"

"So?" The Witch pouted. "Why don't we tell a teacher instead?"

Snort. Harry nearly choked on his mashed potatoes. "Are you joking? Everyone knows that in a school setting Authority is always Useless. They're like the Police in horror films, they make things worse. People like Malfoy only grow more resentful if teachers become involved."

"Harry, I don't want you to fight my fights for me." The other boy stated resolutely. "Gran always said I need to take responsibility for my actions. And, well, you're my friends, I shouldn't have to rely on you to solve my problems."

"Relax. I'm not trying to fight your fights for you... merely level the playing field a bit."

"Harry!" The fork was thrown to the table, into Hermione's own dinner. "No declaring war!"

"Why not? We can't just let Malfoy win!"

"Indeed! Its your right to place the Mongrel in his place!" Advised Gil. "My Chore Boy, carry on!"

"Well... I suppose he is a bully." Shirou conceded reluctantly.

"See, Shirou? Violence is always the answer nine times out of ten."

"You can't declare war on Malfoy because you're better than him! Besides which, what were you intending to do anyway?"

"This." Harry stood up from his table and began to purposefully stride towards the Slytherin table.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione and Neville reluctantly followed, Neville only because he didn't want to be left alone, although he was quaking in his boots from the fact that he was literally walking into the den of the snakes which would happily eat him alive.

"You." Harry stopped suddenly before Malfoy and his gang, tapping the Pureblood heir on his shoulder to get his attention.

"Me?" Asked Malfoy indignantly. "What do you want?"

"Quite simple. You took Neville's Remembrall, and as his friend I am morally obliged to come over here and formally ask you to return it. If you don't, the Bro code of conduct demands that I force you to return it."

The blonde haired youth scoffed. "Seriously? You're here because of that? No, I won't return it."

"Then I have issued your warning, meaning that I am well within my right to make you give it back."

"Harry!" Hissed Neville quietly. "I told you, I don't want you fighting my battles!"

"I told you, I'm not! Just watch!"

"Ha!" The boy laughed. "Make me give it back? Don't be ridiculous! You can't make me do anything!"

"Well then, this is war." Harry crossed his arms defiantly.

"What? Are you really issuing me with a declaration of war?" He found the entire idea of this ridiculous.

"Yes. Unless we get Neville's stuff back, we can't give up."

"We?" Hermione was wondering just when she had agreed to assist Harry in his war efforts, since she clearly hadn't.

"Yes, we. Anyway, we challenge you and all that malarkey."

"To what, a Duel? You do realise that I am the Malfoy heir! It was expected that I be proficient in Dueling, so father hired me a tutor! I could beat you all at the same time, with my wand tied behind my back!"

"Dueling? The thought hadn't even occurred to me! I wasn't even aware that the Wizarding World had official duels." The Boy Who Lived admitted sheepishly. "I was going to ask the Weasley twins to assist me in starting a pranking campaign against you, then get Neville to be the one to get his revenge by being the guy to do the pranking." He assumed the thinker pose, placing his fist under his chin and pretending to be in deep thought. "But then again, a Duel would be equally as effective."

"Indeed." Saber nodded her head in agreement. "An honourable duel is ever so much more preferred to succumbing to Guerrilla warfare, such as pranking." The King shuddered at the idea. "Rin and Arcueid might approve of such ideas, but I don't."

"Come on~! It'd be fun!" The Vampires tone grew more serious. "Besides which, Malfoy deserves a lot more than just a duel! Him and his Slytherin friends have been picking on Neville!"

"Are you an idiot?" Stated the Slytherin in amazement. "I just told you that father had me tutored, while you have barely learnt a single class spell by now, only being in the second week! Are you truly stupid enough to try and Duel me in such bad conditions?"

"I don't care how bad the conditions are." Declared Harry. "We need that Remembrall back, so we'll just have to win then."

"You're an idiot." Blonde eyebrows knotted together in a scowl, before a sudden look of realisation met the boy. That scowl slowly shifted to a confident smile. "But, why not? This is a perfect opportunity for me to prove my superiority." He leaned into the defiant Harry, lowering his voice so none of the present students or any teachers could hear what he said next. "How about tonight, at midnight? We'll meet in the Trophy Room, and since you were so insistent to fight that forgetful fools problems, why don't you bring her and your... other friend too." Clearly Malfoy remembered their previous meeting enough to realise that calling Hermione a Mudblood would be a really bad idea.

"Fine."

"Yes. I'll bring Crabbe and Goyle. Three on three, Crabbe'll be my second, Goyle my third."

Harry didn't know what the other meant by second or third, but after looking at his two friends, who seemed to be rather annoyed at his decision, he settled on just answering anyway, then asking Hermione about duels later on (Since Hermione knew something about everything. It stands to reason that she knew the basics of dueling). "Neville will be my second, Hermione my third. If I win, you give back the Remembrall and tell your Slytherin lackeys to leave my friends alone."

"Good. And if I win, you have to publicly admit that I'm better than you." Malfoy smiled a smile worthy of Slazar himself. "I'll see you there then."

Harry gave his own smile, before walking towards the Great Hall's doors and gesturing for his miffed friends to follow him. Irritably, they complied.

XXXXXXXXXX

Malfoy wanted to laugh, except that his father had warned him that laughing in an evil fashion often tempted fate and ensured that the plans of whomever laughed would fail. As such, he instead gave an evil snigger.

This was perfect, a brilliant opportunity practically thrown at his feet! The Pureblood had never liked Harry Potter or his friends. From the very start, that damned Potter had rebuffed his attempts to befriend him and had instead ignored him, belittled him, acted so damned arrogantly, making out that he was too fantastic to even acknowledge the blonde.

He was sick of it. How dare he? How dare he not accept an offer of friendship with him? He was the son of the Lucius Malfoy! His father was so feared and influential that his name included an italic 'the' before it! He practically ran the Ministry of Magic, being the puppetmaster who had some measure of control on all the major players in the Great Political Game. Basically his father was a very important person!

From birth, Malfoy's parents had always told him that he was destined for greatness, that he would one day follow his fathers example and become someone that they would be proud to call their own. Draco intended for his name to one day include 'the' in it too.

He was raised to be perfect, to be the next head of the Malfoy house, so he couldn't accept this idiot that considered him to be nothing. Potter wasn't that special! He was only famous because his parents had done some bogus Magic before they dropped dead, which led to the Dark Lord's demise. Harry had done nothing for his fame and his power, the Malfoys had toiled for centuries for theirs.

"I mean, he only killed the Dark Lord! It isn't THAT fantastic!"

So Malofy had tried to befriend the boy, since perhaps he would understand and acknowledge the Pureblood's desire to be great. That had failed. Apparently Draco wasn't very good at making friends.

Instead he tried to beat the boy at his own game, by defeating him in lessons. That plan was still in its early stages, considering it was only the second week of term. So far he was losing. He'd have to remedy that fact soon.

The third plan to show the Potter boy his superiority and to force the celebrity to acknowledge him was to target his friends, getting past his political armour by striking his weak points. That was why the Slytherin's had been targeting Neville, since he had encouraged them to, remarking how easy a target he was.

Now he had been provided with the perfect opportunity; the Duel. Malfoy had no motivation to actually duel Potter, his upcoming opponent had only had a single week of schooling under his belt, gaining a victory over him then would be unsatisfying and pointless, like taking candy from an Albus Dumbledore. Perhaps when Potter had been trained more he would properly challenge him?

Either way, Malfoy wasn't going to show up at the Trophy Room. Instead he would alert Filch, the caretaker, then let the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw's be caught. They would then be punished, lose House Points, and be resented for doing so.

Meanwhile, Malfoy would have an early night and ensure he was well rested for lessons the next day, so he could outperform Potter in classes the next day while he was still tired from his night-time escapades.

It was a perfect plan. He looked forwards to seeing the look on their faces the next day when they realised that they had been tricked.

XXXXXXXXXX

Harry realised that he had probably messed up when Hermione and Neville refused to speak to him after leaving the Hall. Hermione because she had specifically warned against doing that which he had chosen to do, and he had ignored her and proceeded to select something which would break various school rules. He had then proceeded to drag her along for the ride too.

Neville meanwhile, was annoyed because his friend had ignored his demands to allow him to fight his own fights, and chosen to interfere. Yes, Harry might have set it up with the best of interests so that Neville too was taking a key part, so he was technically fighting for himself, but it had been Harry and not he who had arranged it. Neville found it patronising, as if Harry felt he could not handle his own problems. Admittedly, he could barely manage to cast Spells, let alone handle his own problems, but that was besides the point.

Harry should have had more faith.

Upon reflection, the Magic user recognised that he had been ignorant and wrong, he should have listened to his friends requests instead of pushing forwards. Hindsight was 20/20 though, it was all well and good that he knew that he had been a fool to just accept Malfoy's challenge without asking them first (He had rushed ahead and involved his friends without even getting their consent), but pointless pondering could do nothing to solve his problem.

He was having his first major fight with his friends, and he had been responsible for it. Neville had left for his Common Room, agreeing to assist Harry since it would stupid for him to go alone, but had done so unhappily. Harry had been unable to select the right words of apology to make things up to his companion.

Hermione also agreed to stand by his side against Malfoy, as equally unhappy about it as Neville. She spent the evening in the Ravenclaw Common Room reading up on basic Dueling charms while waiting for midnight.

Harry didn't know what to do, so he asked the only people that could offer sensible advice- the voices in the back of his head. "Guys, how do I fix this?"

"Don't ask me!" Huffed Rin. "Call them idiots or something, then tell them that you'll happily accept their apology or something!"

"Rin, you can't just twist things and force them to apologise!" Insisted Shiki. "Friendship doesn't work like that."

"Try bribery." Put forwards the True Ancestor. "It always worked for Shiki to make me happy!"

"That might not work this time." Sighed the boy tiredly.

"Why can't we all just get along?" Sobbed Shirou, while Saber patted his back reassuringly.

"Ha! Why bother! You can always get more subjects!" Thus was the Kings opinion. Thus did every other voice use their powers that they could access while in Harry's mindscape to simultaneously punch the Golden Archer in the face.

"Any MEANINGFUL advice?"

"Why don't you just apologise?" Vocalised the former Nanaya. "That normally works!"

"I did... it didn't."

"Grovel." Advised Rin darkly. "Chicks dig it when men grovel at their feet!"

"..." Said Saber to Gilgamesh.

"..." Spoke Archer back.

"..." Narrated Shiki.

"..." Related Arcueid back to Shiki.

"..." Told Harry to the others sadly.

"What?" Huffed Rin. "What?"

"I think that's just what you want, Rin." Informed the Servant of the Sword matter of factly.

"Indeed." Harry groaned to himself. "The sad thing is that she's a part of my psyche, so what the hell does her commentary say about myself if apparently some small part of me digs having men (And HOPEFULLY women, because otherwise it would totally be gay) grovelling at my feet?"

"That you're secretly a sadist?"

"That you like having other people at your feet?"

"That you have repressed homosexuality which is being released through your feminine side Tohsaka?"

"That we should all be worried!?" Bellowed Saber at the top of her lungs, greatly coming out of character for the sake of uttering the greatest warning of all, to prove the solemnity of the situation.

"All of the above... unfortunately. Now then, moving on from my potential sadistic and or homosexual traits, any more advice?"

"Why the hell are you asking us? We're just parts of yourself; anything we know you know already." Harry blinked upon being reminded of said fact by Skiki.

"Oh yeah." So with no more information than he had initially started with, the male resolved to just hope for the best, and instead focus on the upcoming duel itself.

Harry was confident in his own Magical Skills. Certainly, his actual Spell repertoire was quite low. The book on useful defensive spells he had acquired were mostly very situational, techniques which were to be used against specific enemies or conditions (Two examples from within was the Riddikulus Charm to be used on Boggarts, and the Extinguishing Spell which only worked to smother flames), so not very useful for a situation like a Duel, which needed more offensive based techniques than that.

Of the few offensive spells in the pamphlet which could be safely used against humans, even less were usable by Harry, since the text specifically stated that unless the caster was of the mentioned level of power, not to use the Spell, since doing so could Magically exhaust you or explode in your face from control issues.

Admittedly Harry felt he had no issues in either Magical capacities or control, but it was better to verge on the side of caution. In the Nasuverse, using Magic to powerful could kill you or cripple your Magical Circuits, the ultimate punishment for any aspiring Magus.

So he was rather limited on that front. On the bright side, his own Magicraft Techniques were rather potent. With Alteration, Transmutation, Levitation and Reinforcement under his belt, he had a few creative options available to him.

"I really need to make more techniques." He resolved. Though doing so would have to wait until he had some free time.

Still he felt that he would be fine, since nothing could possibly go wrong over the course of the night. It was only a Duel after all...

AN- Well, its only a duel... raise your hand if you can guess that shit will go down next chapter. *Most raise hands*, well, I suppose that since I am inspired by Shinji and Warhammer 40K, shit had to go down eventually. Alas, its only the first year, so epic stuff will probably be rather limited until I have time to allow plot divergences to occur. Either way, I have a real treat planned for the end of the year... a real treat. Not only this, from year 3 onwards, that is when I have all the super cool stuff planned. The end of the Fourth Year should be amazingly surprisingly, when I get to writing it.

Also, still debating over the idea of using a forum to respond to people's reviews, since the few people I've responded to have led to me having large PM conversations, so it might be useful. Please review and give me your opinion on what you thought of the chapter! So until next chapter (Probably in a while, since my full exams are coming up soon and I need to revise so that I pass), Undying Soul out.