Author's Note: I had an overwhelming amount of views on my last chapter and I'm very appreciative of the people who are following FH! I'd also like to thank those who reviewed, I'm looking into some of those scenarios and you might find some of them in this chapter!

As to the anonymous reviewer, your input was neither appreciated nor needed. You obviously did not read the canon well enough (as we don't see the true Slytherin side, only the viewpoint of a largely-Gryffindor told story), or even read my story well. I would have sent you an email about the things you said in your review, but, alas, you remain anonymous and nameless to me.

Now that the unpleasantness is over, on to the story!

A Message Delivered

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He saw all four of his new-found friends deep in conversation by the fire, all of whom looked up like rabbits in high-beams as he walked in. Harry felt really guilty when he saw Dale's face; he looked sad and small where he sat next to Millicent. Harry kept his face serene. He really didn't have anything to say for himself.

"Harry, you shouldn't have flown off the handle at them like that! We're worried for you! I mean, look at this!" Daphne held his dark-grey combat pants, clearly showing the large bloodstains on them. Naturally, Harry's anger boiled once more, and with an effort, he stifled it. His face was still calm.

"It's not mine."

"We know it's not yours but whose is it? Why do you have another man's blood on yourself!?"

"I have a job. I do it." This was as much as he was willing to say on the subject. This only served to worry his friends more; he saw, Millicent's face drained of colour.

"You have a job? What kind of job, Harry? Why on earth would you want the kind of job that leaves another person's blood on your clothes?" Millicent looked sad and angry at him.

"Um, well, I can't tell you about it, any more than I have. And well... I've been doing my job for too many years to give it up. I'm only here as part of it." Millicent's face was like a porcelain dolls. Her pretty blue eyes had widened, her mouth formed a shocked "O" and there was a flush on her cheeks, from anger or shock he wasn't sure.

"You're here because of your job?" Blaise spoke for the first time, Harry hadn't noticed but he'd stood up and was now walking toward him, anger in his voice and his eyes.

"What are you here to do, Potter?" He said this viciously. Harry blinked in surprise. Why had they reacted so strongly to that? He was only here to gain experience, it's not like he was going to ki... oh.

"You thought I meant I was here to kill someone!? No! How could you all think that?" Blaise stopped his slow walk toward him and cocked his head, willing him to explain and not excusing their thoughts.

"I'm here to learn. To gain experience. To make friends. Friends who won't act as if I'm some kind of monster! What I do is my own business, and only people I trust are given more information. I've known you all about a week! And you obviously hadn't realised I don't like speaking to people about my past, what I do in my spare time, or any thing mildly personal! I've tried to be a good friend to you. I created a nice room and I warded it so no-one can get in and I've defended you in the corridors when I heard some of that Malfoy git's friends mocking you! I apologise for getting so angry last night but you have as much reason to apologise as I! I'd just gotten back from a mission and you jump on me right after it." He was breathing heavily by now, and his voice had risen, and all four looked at him with looks of shock and a bit of guilt.

Dale stood up and walked over to him, looking apprehensive and afraid. As he reached him he stuck out his hand. "Sorry mate, I- I didn't want to upset you, but you gotta at least understand our side of it, don't you?" Harry took his hand and nodded, keen to get this conversation out of the way. He really liked these people and wished they could be his friends. It would be better if they didn't find out the full truth.

After this exchange, they all moved back to the fire and hesitantly, slowly, a conversation about Quidditch was started, and soon they were laughing again and all was, not forgotten, but forgiven.

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Harry glanced up from the potion he was currently brewing with Dale. Draco Malfoy, the boy who by all reports was a sorry excuse for a Slytherin, was currently tormenting the boy from the train, Neville Longbottom. It was a well-known fact to all Slytherins that Neville was absolutely hopeless at Potions, but Harry believed it was just the constant terror that the Slytherins and their Head of House had him under that made him hopeless.

Harry was thoroughly sick of Malfoy. He was just a punk little brat, with Daddy's money and reputation to hide behind. He threatened people's families when they ever got close enough to exposing him as the child that he was. In the two weeks that Harry had been at Hogwarts, he'd so far escaped Malfoy's esteemed attention, but he knew his friends were not having the same luck.

Finally, Neville's cauldron started to hiss and melt because of his inattention to it, and Harry slammed down his silver stirring rod, causing the people around him to look back at him, startled. Currently, Professor Snape was out of the classroom, having been called to deal with a problem in Flitwick's first-year Charms Class.

"Malfoy, what the hell is your problem?" Now the whole class had turned to him, and noted the anger in his voice. The Gryffindors looked startled, probably never having noticed rifts in the Slytherin Sixth-years. The Slytherins, however, looked back in varying looks of shock and curiosity. Most had not met or spoken with Harry at all, giving him a wide birth.

The blonde youth turned slowly, forgetting Neville enough for him to escape further away from him.

"My problem, Potter?"

"Yeah. You're just a brat." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, but this was his only sign of anger.

"A brat, Potter? No, you mistake me. I'm the heir to the Malfoy fortune, and I act accordingly. I apologise for not acting more like a half-blood orphan." Shocked gasps could be heard, one voice that Harry recognised as Daphne's said "that's unfair!"

Harry clenched his hands.

"No Malfoy, you act like a brat, a common bully with some thug sidekicks and you hide behind your precious pureblood beliefs to hide the scared boy you are."

Malfoy took a step forward. He was taller and had the muscles of a Quidditch player, and had probably been in his share of fights. He looked at Harry thinking him easy game. He looked scrawny. He knew spells, Malfoy knew this, but as to his physical condition? Not many knew about the muscles beneath his robes, or the scars on his chest. A number of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls could probably attest to his muscles, having seen him coming through the Entrance Hall in his running shorts on more than one occasion, but it would be terribly unlikely for Malfoy to have heard this from them.

"Why don't you come closer and say that, Potter?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?" The room held its collective breath, waiting to see the outcome of the little contest of wills. Malfoy had just opened his mouth to reply, when Snape came striding in, not looking at any of the students. Snape reached the front of the room and spun, and noted with some surprise nobody was watching their boiling, sparking and melting cauldrons.

"What is the meaning of this?" He snapped, glaring at the obvious distracters, Malfoy and Harry.

"Nothing Professor." Malfoy sat and Harry followed suit, all students letting out their breaths and suddenly realising what a sorry state their Potions had gotten into. But Malfoy had turned and glared at him, mouthing 'this isn't over.'

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The tension between the two brewed the whole of the third week of term, with small verbal bashings being directed at him and his four friends. Harry remained steadfastly silent during these times, only raising an eyebrow and walking on, refusing to be led into the fight.

Finally the weekend set in, and Harry knew Malfoy would want to settle the tension over the next two days. Harry was prepared, however, he knew he could fend for himself, but he didn't know if he could protect his friends. On missions, he only had himself to protect, and on the few missions where he'd been required to guard someone, it had been relatively easy and he'd know where and when an attack would come.

So it was that whilst the five of them were outside flying, Harry had his wand in his pocket and he wearily scanned the grounds at intervals. Finally he saw the Doors open and a crowd of Slytherins came out, whilst people all over the Grounds stopped and watched, having heard about the incident already. Harry signalled to his friends and they nodded, each dismounting at the same time.

"Potter! Let's settle this. No wands. No one interferes." Harry smirked and took his wand from his pocket, handing it to Blaise, whilst Malfoy did the same, handing it to one of his goons, Crabbe or Goyle.

"Don't want to get beat Malfoy?"

"Of course not, and I won't be. I've trained with instructors from all over the world for years Potter, you are going to lose." His four companions contained their grins. Finally, Malfoy would be put in his place.

"So, do you agree to this now, no backing out, no changes of mind? How are we to end this? First blood? Until we tire? Death?" Malfoy slightly paled (more so than usual).

"Of course we are doing this. And the terms are until the other is unable to fight, whatever that entails." Harry frowned. Perhaps, if he was boasting like this, he did have some skill. This might be interesting. Silently, Harry threw off his black jacket, revealing his usual running singlet, which revealed muscles, his scars and the tattoo. The surrounding people (more people from other houses had been added to the crowd) gasped or started whispering, and Malfoy had visibly gulped.

"You asked for this Malfoy. Now, who here will be the judge? Not a Slytherin," Harry said, eyeing all the Malfoy-supporters who had instantly put up their hand, "we'll need someone to pull me –err, either one of us of each other if we get carried away." Harry smirked at his purposeful slip-of-the-tongue, having seen Malfoy sweat just a little.

"We'll do it." Two very similar voices came from the crowd, and the owners pushed their way through all the people concealing them.

"Name's Fred-"

"-and George Weasley. We'll give you a judge-"

"-and a commentator!" Many people laughed but Malfoy looked murderous, as Harry smiled and agreed. It'd make it a bit more interesting. To his surprise, one of the tall twins pulled out an acid-green Quick Quotes quill and a long roll of parchment, already taking down the last conversation.

There was silence for some time, as Malfoy stretched and Harry stood still, thinking about what he should do. He could end it quickly with one hit, but where would be the fun in that? Small wounds and humiliation was what he'd use, getting Malfoy back for all the abuse he'd doled out in previous years to his friends.

"Begin." George said, and Fred immediately began his commentary.

"And Mr. Potter looks loose and ready, and I notice he has many serious-looking scars upon his person, George."

"Yes, serious indeed, and look at that Tattoo! MOONY-PADFOOT-PRONGS. Wonder who, or what they are! Anyway, it seems neither wants to make the first move, does it Fred?"

And so the banter began, a constant stream of compliments and commentary, obviously aimed at making Harry look better.

Harry and Malfoy circled each other, Malfoy letting out a stream of insults that had many people screaming abuse from the circle. Harry was silent, knowing that it was a waste of breath to try and bait him. His time would come and Harry didn't particularly want to speed up the process.

Finally loosing his cool, Malfoy charged, but instead of using a brawler-style technique like Harry had expected, he slid alongside him a used his leg to sweep his feet from underneath him. Harry smiled widely as he slowly fell, and used his arms to propel himself away, doing a handstand and flipping out of it.

"Ah Malfoy, better than I expected." Without warning, Harry sprinted forward with lightening speed, and started punching and kicking in quick succession, giving him no time to retaliate as he could barely manage to block him.

Between attacks, Harry breathed out, loud enough for Fred to repeat, "Would you like me to pick it up a notch?" Malfoy started and nearly didn't block his punch, but it was too late anyway. He'd had enough playing. He jumped in the air, startling Malfoy into stepping back. He flipped over him, landing at his back, and with a flat palm, used all his force into hitting his unprotected back, sending him five meters to land flat on his face.

Slowly, he got up and turned, glaring bloody murder at him. But before he could act upon anything, Harry was back, hitting his stomach repeated times and again the Malfoy heir fell to the ground in a cloud of dust. Malfoy rolled onto his stomach, arms braced on the floor, ass pointing Harry's way. Harry laughed and walked forward silently, and pushed him, his face landing in the dirt.

"Malfoy. All your life you've been spoiled, your every whim catered to. You're a bully, a fraud and a complete waste of space, and you've attacked, terrified and mocked almost every person you've met, most of which have more worth in their pinkie fingers than you have in your whole body. You've taken it upon yourself to be the King of the Slytherins, giving the rest of the house a bad name, teaching the younger generations to be just like you, or otherwise making the lives of those who don't utter hell. Roll over and look at me when I say this Malfoy!" Malfoy squeaked and rolled over, looking up at him. His eyes were slightly red, and Harry almost laughed.

"You are pathetic, and I want you to apologise to everyone. But even more than that, I want you to apologise to Daphne, Dale, Blaise, Millicent and Neville Longbottom." Murmurs arose from the crowd and his four friends started, not having realised that Harry would bring them into this. Neville, meanwhile, was being pushed to the fore of the crowd, looking terrified and awed at the same time.

Malfoy stood and glared angrily at the crowd.

"I will not. You are the waste of space Potter. You, who are famous for nothing you even remember doing. You who grew up anonymously. And don't think I don't know what you did with all your years Potter. I know you. I know the real you.Would you like me to tell your new precious friends? Would you like me to reveal to all who stand here your, uh, extra-curricular activities?!" Harry went white. Nobody was to know that information. His mind skipped back to a conversation he'd had at age five.

"Harry! Now listen. All that I've taught you so far, and all that I will teach you, is top secret. Nobody can know. This isn't a rule to be broken. You will be killed or hunted, and I will throw you from my house. Secrecy is vital. Without it, you will never be a successful agent. You will be a nobody. A nothing. Useless. Less than useless, a wanted man. I, like my master before me, must warn you. I will give the Ministry all my records of you and wash my hands of you. Do you understand? I cannot let you be known, or you will not be known to me. Understand me Harry?"

"Y-yes Madam Weir!"

Harry's face clouded and Malfoy seemed to see something in his face he did not like. Harry, when angry, could easily use wandless magic. Non verbal also, but he yelled the next words.

"Quietis impenetrabiilis prohibeo parietis!" Creating a solid dome of wind, and to all outside the dome nothing could be seen or heard.

Malfoy screamed.

"Quiet! Now, first, answer me, how did you find out?" Harry's tone was dangerous, dripping with venom.

"I-I wrote my father and his c-clients had contact w-with y-you, you d-did a job two w-weeks ago for them!" Malfoy was bawling his eyes out. Harry's anger rose. All clients signed confidentiality agreements and swore they would not speak of the agreement. It would cost them millions of dollars if Weir Relations found out, and a huge clean-up mission for Harry. He sighed angrily.

"Malfoy, I cannot let you go with this information." He whimpered and slumped to a heap at his feet, begging him.

"No, I will not kill you. I am going to erase your memory." He looked up, his tears forgotten.

"T-that's a great idea Potter! Perfect! Just don't kill me! B-but, won't I just ask my father again?"

"I will be taking care of that too. Have you told anyone?" Malfoy shook his head vigorously but Harry was not sure.

"I am going to look to see if you have, and I will be very angry if you have lied to me." Malfoy shuddered but still shook his head, eyes looking straight at Harry's. Taking his chance, Harry entered his mind with Legilimency, and saw that he'd been telling the truth.

"Draco, you will remember parts of this conversation, but not anything more than my threatening." Harry wandlessly cast a Memory Charm, erasing all evidence of Harry's job.

Malfoy looked at him, eyes glazed.

"We have just been having a serious conversation, and you are terrified. You will never look into my past, or harm my friends again. Understand?" Dumbly, Malfoy nodded, and, satisfied, Harry released the spell concealing them. Immediately, he heard cheers and shouts and Harry smiled. Harry stood proudly over a slumped and tear-stained Draco Malfoy. His humiliation was complete.

He'd have to deal with Lucius Malfoy and his other clients that night.

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Harry's triumph over Malfoy had spread around the whole school, and he was soon everyone's hero, giggling girls passed him and he had all sorts of "offers", Guys clapped him on the back, congratulated him, nodded or looked at him jealously.

He'd gained a sort of fan group, lead by a couple of Gryffindors and many Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, not all of them girls. Harry really didn't want the extra attention.

Harry had sorted out the security breach all on his own, not notifying Madam Weir. He erased the memories of Lucius Malfoy and the three gentlemen he'd "sent a message" for the other week. He'd also collected thousands of galleons from the men; they'd probably file a theft report to the Ministry, Dably's trademark fingerprints and magic signature all over the crime scene. He was now a considerably rich sixteen-year-old.

Harry's friends were eternally grateful for him putting Malfoy in his place. Malfoy, however, was furious, he was the laughing-stock of the whole school, humiliated, and he'd lost a lot of the respect he'd gained over the years. He did, however, have a close-knit gaggle of cronies and hangers-on, who tried to console the defeated king of the Slytherins.

The next few months passed in a daze for Harry, he knew most of the criteria in class already and enjoyed the times he was randomly pulled into broom closets by unseen and unknown girls, Harry could never see them and they never spoke to him afterwards, he was probably just a bragging chip for them. Of course, it was all just snogging, but Harry enjoyed it immensely. In no time at all, it was Christmas Break.

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Author's Note: I had planned so much more for this chapter, but I just couldn't fit anything else in without writing twenty more pages! Well, I've got a good start for a fifth chapter now!

Reviews, as always, are appreciated! Let me know if you want to see anything in this fic, and I'll try to fit it into my storyline. I've come up with a few interesting ideas as to where this is going!

Thanks for reading,

Fool