And here is another chapter. Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed. Your feedback is greatly appreciated. Before we get into the story proper, I'd just like to leave a few words of reply to two people who reviewed anonymously, and thus I cannot reply to otherwise.

First, to kiki, just a short note to say thank you for your review, and I'm glad you're enjoying how I'm developing the plot and characters. I hope you keep reading and like what is coming next.

Second, to the 'Guest' who left an anonymous review on the 6th of May. Harry is being a bit judgemental and uncharitable, yes. The thing is, he was exposed to far more judgemental words and uncharitable evaluations growing up than he was to tolerance and charity. It's a testament to the strength of his character that it's not much worse! He might grow out of it somewhat due to character development, but he will never lose some edge. If you want a perfect character, look elsewhere!

The reason I chose to repeat PS/SS events was precisely to highlight the contrast between how this Harry sees things compared to canon. It's a character study.

As for the Sorting Hat, I'm really confused. I really don't understand why you think I see the hat as "a super hat that actively tries to change events and impart with information to students." In fact, it's precisely because the hat is not a "super hat" that the conversation with it was "unoriginal and lame[!]" Harry would have been sent to Slytherin in canon, had he not asked to be put somewhere else. Since in this storyline, he has no reason to ask that, the conversation would necessarily have been a lot shorter than it was there!

Now as a reply to no one in particular, though a few people have mentioned this to me in PMs, my beta included, I'd like to say a few words about third person limited narration. I welcome corrections from readers who have studied literature, but to my understanding, while it is common to identify third person limited narration with a character's inner monologue, it is not beyond the pale for the narrator to be aware of things that the character only feels subconsciously. When the narrator conveys Harry's emotions, it's not necessarily the case that if asked, he would answer with those words. Again, I welcome corrections/pushbacks/feedback on this.

Many thanks to my beta Secondary Luminescence.

Finally, this chapter is slightly shorter than the previous one, but contains a scene that was really hard to write and will have quite an impact on Harry. Plus, writing the next scene would have made it too long.

Without further ado, here is chapter 7.


Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

Even though it was a Saturday afternoon, Harry knew he would find Granger in the library, as he had seen her there many times in the past. Harry himself regularly spent at least a portion of his weekends in the library, either by himself or with his friends, so he was hardly going to pass judgement on Granger for that. In fact, he fully planned to study, but he wanted to deal with the textbook swap first.

Ted was following on Harry's wake, as Harry had enlisted his friend's help to deal with some recalcitrant Charms homework. And also, though left unstated, he could serve as Harry's backup in case things turned sour. Not that Harry expected them to, as he didn't really think Granger had it in her to break the many rules that prohibited fighting in the library. And while Harry had noticed that Granger had recently taken to studying with Neville Longbottom, he wasn't very afraid of him, certainly not if his performance in Potions and Flying lessons was anything to go by.

They crossed the library's heavy doors and waded through its massive corridors, headed towards the table Harry knew Granger usually favoured. Soon they reached their goal, a table tucked away between bookcases, where Harry could see Granger and Longbottom poring over a heavy tome which did not look like any of their textbooks. Slightly curious despite himself, Harry made his way towards the two Gryffindors as inconspicuously as he could, trying to make out the book's title before they noticed his approach.

His plans, however, were frustrated by Longbottom, who was closest to the direction from which the two Slytherins were walking, and must have noticed their approach. Soon both he and Granger were looking Harry and Ted's way with quizzical and slightly wary expressions. Harry sighed at this, but deliberately slowed his pace and lowered his bag by his side, retrieving the potions textbook from its depths; he hoped both these actions conveyed his completely harmless intentions. And they think Slytherins are paranoid, thought Harry with a mental grin.

Granger was the first to break the silence, and she did not seem overly convinced by Harry's display of peaceful intentions. "What do you want, Potter?" she asked, in a tone that still reminded Harry of Aunt Petunia, though less so than it had months before on the Hogwarts Express.

Harry rolled his eyes at the hostility he could clearly perceive in her voice, and raised the Potions textbook in both hands as a way of conveying, hopefully more clearly, that he did not have any harmful intentions. "I think we mixed up each other's copies of our Potions textbook yesterday. This certainly isn't mine," he said, proffering the volume to the bushy-haired Gryffindor.

Granger looked suspiciously at the book, and seemed unduly hesitant to retrieve it from Harry's hands. Longbottom was eyeing the two Slytherins with a similar look of suspicion, though Harry thought he could see a trace of active dislike in the Gryffindor boy's glance at Ted.

Harry rolled his eyes at the two Gryffindors' ridiculous behaviour. "Oh, for Heaven's sake," he ejaculated rashly, doing his best to keep his voice down despite his exasperation. "Here, Ted, hold this," he went on, turning to his friend and offering him the book.

Grasping Harry's intentions, Ted grasped the book as well, and held it in front of himself. "Looks like I'm still alive," he spoke for the first time, and then added, deadpan, "Good thing our trap misfired."

Harry choked a laugh at this, and grabbed the book back from his friend's hands. "You're not helping, prat," Harry replied, before hitting Ted across the arm with the book. "I'll deal with you later," he said shaking his head, to which Ted only laughed. Harry turned around and laid the book on the table shared by the two Gryffindors. As he did so, he leaned slightly into the book they had open, glimpsing just a few words on its musty yellowed out pages. "Here's your book, anyway. Whether you pick it up or just leave it to rot here is your business. Can I have my copy now, please," he went on, holding out his hand.

Granger still eyed him suspiciously, but picked up the textbook slowly, as if she thought it might explode at any second. When nothing happened, she seemed to relax a bit, and confirmed it was indeed her own, before placing it in her own bag, whence she also retrieved an identical volume, which she held out to Harry. "I hadn't noticed we had got them mixed up, otherwise I would have given it to you."

Harry raised his eyebrow at this, while taking the book and lowering it onto his bag. "Would you really?" he asked. "Excuse my asking," Harry went on, not feeling sorry at all. He had very little patience for people who disliked him for no reason. "I'm not exactly feeling the goodwill here. Honestly Granger, what have I ever done to you? You can't still be bitter about that time on the train."

Despite casting the two Slytherin friends wary glances, Longbottom had kept silent through the entire conversation. But with what seemed like a monumental effort to dredge up some bravery, he finally spoke, with only a slight hint of a stutter in his voice betraying his nerves. "Hey, leave Hermione alone, Potter. It's not like it would be the first time a Slytherin would try to prank her because she's Muggleborn."

Harry scoffed. "Oh, that's really rich, coming a Gryffindor. It's not like the two biggest idiot prankers in the school are in Slytherin!" He said, his temper rising at the mention of pranks. His encounters with the Weasley twins were still a sore point for him. "When have I ever pranked anyone?"

"Well, with the company you keep, why should we expect you not to?" Longbottom replied, shooting daggers at Ted with a glance.

Harry wondered what that was supposed to mean. Did Longbottom mean Ted specifically, or just other Slytherins? Surely he couldn't be surprised at Harry having friends in his own House...

Ted clearly seemed to take this as a personal attack. "What's that supposed to mean, Longbottom?" he asked, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen his friend before.

Clearly Longbottom was surprised by this reaction as well, for he seemed to revert to timidity. Still, he managed to mumble. "Everyone knows your family..." That was all he managed to get out before Ted, looking downright murderous, pulled his wand out and looked ready to curse the chubby Gryffindor, who was now looking like he had bitten off more than he could chew, his temporary fortitude having deserted him.

Harry knew he had to intervene to prevent the situation degenerating further. He reached out to his friend and pulled him backwards by his arm. "Ted, drop it," he uttered harshly in a half-whisper. "Do you want to lose points and get banned from the library for fighting?"

Granger had clearly had the same thought, as she whispered to Longbottom in a similar tone. "Neville, be quiet. This isn't what I meant by being more assertive." She even managed to shoot Harry a slightly grateful look for having had the same thought of diffusing the situation.

Harry nodded at her discreetly and turned around, dragging Ted along with him. "Come on, we can finish that Charms work later," he whispered, dragging the taller boy by the arm behind him.

Ted's anger seemed to have dissipated, but was quickly replaced by a look of dejection that was worse than Harry had ever seen in his friend. "You should go back to the common room, Harry. I'll catch up with you later," he said, bounding around a corner and out of view before Harry had the chance to object.

Harry sighed. There definitely was something odd about his friend's family. Harry had been mildly concerned before, but now his worries started to increase. Still, he knew his friend well enough by now to know that he needed to be left alone to brood things over. Ted would talk to Harry when he was ready.


Harry did not see Theodore for the rest of the day, but he did not go look for him. Ted knew how to take care of himself, and at any rate, he was quite zealous of his privacy. Harry abided by his resolve to leave him alone to figure things out, and did not set eyes on his friend until the next day, when he saw him asleep on his bed. Clearly he had stayed out until well after curfew again, and was sleeping off the effects of that.

Harry shrugged and let him sleep, going for breakfast with Blaise and Tracey, with whom he'd also had dinner the previous day. Harry was getting somewhat worried over Ted himself, as his occasional fits of moodiness did not usually last that long. However, he tried his best to ignore it, and spend the morning trying to work on a History essay with Blaise, who managed to excel at the subject despite Binns' teaching.

When he returned to the Great Hall for lunch, Harry finally spotted Ted. He looked haggard, the dark rings around his eyes indicating his lack of sleep. He was eating quite a large portion, which was slightly uncharacteristic; Harry chalked that up to his friend having missed breakfast.

Harry walked slowly towards his friend and stopped just when he reached the table, glancing at him in a silent query. Ted clearly saw him out of the corner of his eye. He was looking quite serious, and there was a quiet determination in his hazel eyes, but he nodded at Harry's unspoken question. A feeling of relief washing over him, Harry took a seat next to Ted and started grabbing some food for himself.

Ted glanced around to check if anyone was eavesdropping, then leaned his head towards Harry and whispered. "We need to talk alone. After lunch."

Harry gave him the slightest of nods. He was expecting something like that. His friend had clearly been affected by Longbottom's words. Harry recalled the conversation they had had earlier in the week when Ted had looked quite flustered at his own mention of his grandfather's book, and was quite sure that the two were connected. It wasn't that hard to connect the dots between that and Longbottom's intimation that Ted would have been happy to torment Granger for being Muggleborn, to come to the conclusion that the Nott family probably subscribed to pureblood supremacist ideas. Harry had generally avoided discussing the subject with him, or with most people in Slytherin for that matter; the one exception was, of course, Tracey, with whom he knew he shared his half-blood status.

Harry was pretty sure Ted knew he was a half-blood, however, as information about Harry's parents was in the public domain, and fairly common knowledge—Harry had certainly heard some muffled comments from older Slytherins about it, though perhaps because of his celebrity status any hostility he could have got from them was whispered and didn't manifest itself into any overt displays of aggression. Ted had not had any issues befriending him, however that might not mean much, as Malfoy certainly seemed to try to get into Harry's good graces once in a while, and he was notorious for mouthing off about 'mudbloods' in the relative privacy of the Slytherin common room and dorms. Nevertheless, Harry had never heard Ted make say anything about anyone's blood status, good or bad.

This maelstrom of conflicting thoughts came to an end as both Ted and Harry finished their meal, more or less simultaneously, Ted's early arrival being matched by Harry's smaller portion. The two friends rose and headed out of the Great Hall. By unspoken agreement neither of them spoke. Harry let his friend lead the way to his chosen venue, realizing that whatever he had to say was not going to be easy, and he could use the extra time for reflection the walk gave them.

They were heading towards the castle's doors and the grounds beyond, and Ted spoke for the first time since the whispers at lunch. "You might want to cast a warming charm on yourself, it's still quite cold outside," he said softly, as he stopped just before crossing the threshold of the school door.

Harry nodded and did so with a whispered spell, soon followed by Ted. They walked further in silence until they were a fair distance away from the school itself, towards an area of empty moor in the opposite direction from the Forbidden Forest. Ted looked around as if to check whether anyone had followed them, or whether there was anyone present already who could listen in to their conversation, but the closest person was only a small figure near the greenhouses, far enough away that they were barely able to see them, much less eavesdrop.

The taller boy looked at Harry with a determined expression, though he seemed to be dreading the task he had set up for himself. Harry said nothing, content on letting Ted take as much time as he thought he needed.

Eventually he spoke. "You must be wondering what this is all about Harry. I've been meaning to tell you about this for a while, but it was just so nice to be your friend without having to worry about being under my family's shadow. But after yesterday's spat with Longbottom, I knew I had to explain things."

Harry nodded, Ted's words matching what Harry had conjectured. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I grew up with people who hated me because of who my parents were and because of something I couldn't change, even if they had ever told me about it. I'm not going to hate you because of what your family did," Harry told him. He hoped that by revealing a little of his own past, he would show his friend he trusted him, making it easier for him to share whatever had been eating him up.

Harry's gambit seemed to have worked to an extent, for Ted seemed to lose some of the tension in his frame and gave him a small smile, though his hazel eyes still seemed doubtful. "You probably figured from what Longbottom said yesterday that my father is not a lover of muggleborns."

Harry nodded at this. "I had actually started wondering what you weren't telling me about your family when you mentioned your grandfather's book on genealogies. I figured they would have that kind of ideas, what with your having been so worried about making it into Slytherin. But you've never said a word about that, unlike people like Malfoy who go on about it all the time. And you're my friend, despite my being a half-blood." Harry finished, trying again to reassure his friend that he was able to see him as a separate individual from his father.

Ted nodded at this, again looking microscopically less tense. "Yeah, I guess I kind of did let the cat out of the bag with that one. Maybe I just secretly wanted to let it out in the open." He shrugged. "You guessed some of it Harry, and you're right as far as that goes. But there's more that you didn't guess. I don't think you could have guessed it." Ted stopped and swallowed dry, a great inward tension overwhelming him again.

"My father, he does not just believe in blood purity, Harry. He did something about it." Ted swallowed again, but despite the enormous mental strain, he continued. "He was a Death Eater, one of the Dark Lord's inner circle. He fought for him during the war. Afterwards, he escaped conviction by claiming he was under the Imperius Curse. That's a spell that puts someone under a person's entire mental control. But I know that's not true." He uttered these words looking straight at Harry, speaking quickly, as if afraid he would lose his nerve if he tarried. "I told you I've learned how to move around our house pretty much undetected. I overheard many conversations, so I know a lot I'm not supposed to." Ted sounded anguished now, as if reliving some rather painful memories. "He doesn't know that I know... a lot of things." He looked to be close to the end of his revelations, finishing with an appeal to Harry, who had remained silent through Ted's explanation. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you this earlier; it was just easier not to. I don't know if you'll hate me now, Harry, but I thought you deserved to know, being who you are." Ted was finally done, and looked at Harry with an expectant gaze.

Harry had been careful to guard his facial expressions while the taller boy was talking, though he was definitely experiencing great emotional turmoil. Anger and feelings of betrayal raised their ugly heads inside him. He was horrified to find that his friend's father had fought for his parents' murderer. Soon, however, his own words calmed him down. As Harry himself had said, Ted was not his father. If Harry treated him like he was, he was no better than the Dursleys. And Harry could not actually fault Ted for not telling him sooner. Harry was hardly free with details of his own family life. He wouldn't have been anyway, but in Slytherin, it was very easy for such details to end up being told to the wrong persons and used against one. He got the need to build trust—and then, why Ted had been reluctant to say anything for fear of ruining their incipient friendship.

"Theodore," Harry started, using his friend's Christian name to emphasize the solemnity of what he was saying, "you were right, I definitely hadn't guessed that. I don't quite know what to think. I don't want to be angry at you for what your father did. But, and I know this is not something I 'should' ask about, you never told me what you think. You never said anything about it... but for all I know that just means you are better at keeping things to yourself than Malfoy is. For all I know, you're just befriending me as part of a plan by Voldemort's followers." Ted flinched at this, whether at the meaning of Harry's words or his use of Voldemort's name, Harry didn't know. He hated himself for saying this, but he needed to lay things out in the open. "I don't want to believe that, Ted, I really don't. But I need you to come clean with me. Just where do you stand? Do you think Voldemort was right? Do you think I should have been killed when I was a baby, and my parents with me?"

Ted looked as horrified at hearing these final words as Harry was at saying them, but sometimes strong, frank language was required. Even with Slytherins. "No! Harry, I don't!" he said quickly, before taking a deep breath and continuing more calmly. "I don't know what my father was like before the War, as I was only one when it ended. But before she died, my mother told me he was a much different person before it all started. Fighting for the Dark Lord turned him into a horrible person. It didn't change much even after the Dark Lord was gone. He's just a bitter man who hates everything now. I... I would have nothing to do with whatever did that to him..." Ted went on, getting more worked up the further he spoke. "Not that he didn't know what he was doing, because he did. I'm not trying to excuse him," he added hastily to avoid misunderstanding.

There was a silence as Harry thought through Ted's words. It seemed, however, that the taller boy wasn't finished. "And I don't give a shit if you're a half-blood. I don't like Granger because she's a conceited know-it-all, not because she's muggleborn. You've got to believe me, Harry. I'm your friend because I want to be, not because my father put me up to it. And I would never sell out my friends, not to him, not to the Dark Lord himself. I don't..."

Ted was ready to continue, but Harry quickly bridged the space between them and laid his hand on his friend's shoulder. A small part of him was wary and convinced he was being foolish to believe in Ted's words, but most of Harry's being screamed against it. Perhaps he couldn't put into words why exactly he felt like that, but nevertheless he did. He was convinced his friend was not lying to him, that he was indeed his friend and was not simply pretending at his father's biding. For one thing, if he was, why would he have told him his father had been one of Voldemort's followers. He would have simply said he was a believer in blood purity and had been bewitched into acting for the Dark Lord, which would have explained Longbottom's words completely. No, Harry was almost sure he should trust his friend. And as for the small uncertainty, well, living required taking risks.

Harry squeezed Ted's shoulder and finally spoke. "I believe you Ted, I really do." Harry smiled and let go, as did the tension which had been gripping his friend's body and mind. The taller boy let out a large sigh, and Harry went on. "I'm sorry for what I said. But I needed to know, and I thought I'd be more likely to get something out of you if I got you worked up."

Ted nodded, and then spoke softly. "I'm beginning too see why you got into Slytherin," he said in a tone that had regained a vague sense of amusement.

Harry guffawed a bit and shrugged. "Hardly. Anyway, I was also a bit shocked. I'm sure you can understand that." He looked straight at his friend before continuing. "Thank you for telling me about it, though. Of course I understand that that's not the sort of thing you go about telling everyone. Don't worry, I'll keep quiet," he finished, smiling.

Ted looked at him with a grateful look. "Thank you, Harry. I just couldn't not tell you after you told me about your Cloak. I'll be worth your trust, I promise you," he said.

Harry had wondered if he had done the right thing in sharing that with Ted. While it turned out his friend had been holding something back from him, telling him had turned out for the best. While he had perhaps been slightly too free with his trust, sometimes you had to give trust before receiving it. He was now sure he had made a friend for life.

"So, with all that nonsense with Granger and Longbottom, we never did get to work on that Charms problem," Harry said, and made to walk back to the Castle.

Ted followed him, his face relaxed and happy. He almost looked like a different man. "Oh, it's not that complicated. We don't really need to go to the library, we'll work it through it in the common room."

The two friends walked back towards the school at a relaxed pace, as the sun went down over the mountains and shadows lengthened on the ground. Soon darkness would arrive for another night. All felt alright in the world.


Harry found himself playing Wizards' chess with Blaise, a quiet evening in their common room. Harry wasn't very good at the game, never having had much opportunity to practice it before coming to Hogwarts. Still, he was slowly improving, and the animated chess pieces no longer shouted contradictory advice at him, which made the whole experience a lot less stressful. Even though the rules were the same, it was amazing how much more interesting the game became just from having magical pieces.

"That book you got me for Christmas was really interesting, Blaise. I'd never known anything about my family before." Harry started, wanting to sound out Blaise, whom he knew to be the best of their year at History. Harry didn't want to give too much away, but had by now learned that revealing something first was a very good way to earn people's trust.

Blaise nodded, and made his next move, ordering his knight to take Harry's bishop. As Harry considered his own move, Blaise replied, "You're welcome. I thought you'd enjoy knowing something about where you came from, what with you being raised by muggles and all."

Harry nodded at this, opting to remain in silence, considering his next move and letting the other boy keep talking.

Blaise obliged him after a short wait. "That's why I find history so interesting. It's so annoying that Binns is such a terrible teacher, so people actually get turned off just by mentioning it."

Harry grinned at that, ordered his rook to move, and replied to Blaise. "Binns really is terrible, and you do explain things a lot better than he does." Harry actually did think Blaise explained things quite well when they were studying together, and praise had never hurt anyone. The other boy was more likely to expand on the topics Harry actually wanted to talk about if he knew Harry thought he communicated well.

Blaise indeed flushed a little at Harry's comment, but merely nodded and replied dryly. "In fairness, it'd be hard to explain worse than Binns does." He ordered another move.

"But to be honest," Harry continued in reply, "I just can't get into it the way you do. This time was an exception though. I really devoured the stuff on my family. I would've never thought someone would write an entire chapter of a book on my family."

"There aren't that many of us when you come down to it," Blaise explained, while Harry was still considering his next move. "So you can give a lot of room to a single family, especially when you're already limiting yourself to a single region like Bagshot was."

Harry issued his own order to his rapidly diminishing chess set, before replying. "Is she the same person who wrote our History of Magic textbook? Is she reliable?" Harry asked, getting to the meat of what he meant to talk about.

Blaise nodded vigorously in reply. "Oh yes, she's quite good. I mean, you've seen she isn't a very exciting read, but she's quite competent, and doesn't make many speculations. Sticks to the facts, that one does." He finished by ordering his queen to put Harry's king in check.

Harry had been hoping that was the case. "That's good to know. Because, well, I kind of wondered if lots of people would be making up family connections to important historical figures to make their family sound older and more important than it really is..." He trailed, hoping Blaise would expand on that. He also ordered a move, though at that point he was almost sure he would lose that game.

Blaise was nodding vigorously at this, smiling knowingly. "I was wondering if you'd think about that. Yes, lots of people do that. Bagshot is pretty good at telling the bogus claims from the good ones, though. Besides, she was basically your parents' next door neighbour. Lived in the same village. Probably knew your parents and the older Potters personally. I think you'll find everything she writes quite reliable." Another check.

Harry's ears perked up at this. Bagshot would've actually have known his parents. He made a mental note to find out where she lived as soon as possible. He couldn't believe he had never considered where his parents had lived. Then a sad shadow entered his mind. That would have probably been the place they had died, the place where Voldemort had tried to kill him. The place Harry would have grown up in had Voldemort not killed his parents that fateful Halloween. Harry definitely wasn't in the mood for chess any more, and he was very close to losing in any case. He toppled his king.

"You win," he said, smiling sadly. Blaise must have noticed something was amiss, for he was looking at Harry with a frown, but Harry did his best to scrub any traces of sadness from his face. He still had one more question for Blaise.

"I'm getting quite interested in this subject. Do you have any books about magical families in the rest of the country?" If Bagshot lived in the South West, then of course it made sense for her to focus on that specific region, but Harry actually wanted to know who else was connected to the Peverells. Besides, if more books corroborated Bagshot's account, the likelier it was to be true.

Blaise nodded again. "I'm glad I'm getting you interested in at least some history," he said, grinning. "There is a really good book, also really reliable, called Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. I can owl my mum to send me her copy for you to borrow if you'd like to read it."

Harry did want to read it, and quickly said so. "I'll owe you one Blaise," he said, acknowledging the previously unmentioned debt. Armed with Blaise's promise to owl his mother, Harry thought he was making progress. Mentally weary from the series of chess matches, the two boys marched to their dorm in silence.


It was a quiet, weekday evening and dinner was almost over. Many students had already left the Great Hall to return to their common rooms, or to finish more work at the library. Harry, however, was staying put, his dessert being consumed at a much slower pace than normal for him. He carefully eyed the Ravenclaw table next to theirs in what he hoped was a discreet manner. Since meeting the Ravenclaw prefect, Alex Campbell, Harry had been wondering how to use their mutual grudge against the Weasley twins to team up to get back at them. He thought he finally had composed his plan, and now he needed to talk to the older boy about it. Harry just hoped that despite being a prefect, he was not averse to some rule-breaking himself. Harry found it difficult to approach the Ravenclaw, who being older and a prefect to boot felt more like an authority figure than a peer to him. Harry didn't trust authority figures much, and wanted to get the whole thing done with as quickly as possible, but the sixth year Ravenclaws seemed to be lingering at their table for a long time.

Just as Harry was about to run out of pudding, and wondering whether he would have to eat any more food he didn't particularly want to keep his charade going, the group of Ravenclaw sixth years started to break up. Harry had picked up Campbell would be going on prefect duty that night, which was the perfect occasion to catch him alone. Just as the older boy separated himself from his friends and walked towards the hall's side door, Harry nonchalantly rose and followed him unobtrusively. Once it was clear they were the only two occupants of that corridor, Harry sped up to catch Campbell, letting his footsteps echo in the empty space. He didn't want to scare the Ravenclaw by coming upon him by surprise.

Campbell turned around once Harry made himself known, slightly warily, but a smile graced his face as he saw who it was, and he slowed his pace to allow Harry to catch up to him. "Hello Potter. How've you been?" He asked, clearly still mindful of Harry's help in what Harry liked to call the Cupboard Incident. "Enjoying the new term?"

Harry caught up to the older boy and started walking beside him. He hoped he had the right approach. "Campbell," he started by nodding. "Have you told anyone about what happened with the Weasleys?" He asked, trying to be tactful by avoiding any mentions of what had actually happened.

Campbell's face darkened at this, but he answered. "I wasn't going to, but Morag insisted I talk to Professor Flitwick about it." He shrugged. "He said pretty much what I was expecting: that he didn't doubt I was telling the truth and the twins were the culprits. But due to the way it all happened I was going to need some sort of proof."

Harry nodded again. "Yeah, I was expecting that, but I thought it was worth a try. I've had a few run-ins with the Weasley twins myself," Harry offered by way of explanation.

Campbell grimaced. "Bloody idiots, aren't they? Bloody Gryffindor prefects don't take the problem seriously, seem to think they would be everyone's friends if we'd let them." He rolled his eyes.

Harry composed his face, trying to look wistful. If things went wrong, he needed to be able to deny any intention of committing mischief. Whether he could do that hinged on how convincing he could make his performance. It was important that it didn't look like he had planned this in advance. "If only there was something somebody could do..." he trailed, letting the older boy draw his own conclusions if he wanted to.

"They've had their share of detentions," Campbell explained. "But they're always very careful about not being caught when they do something really big. Can't really do anything about it without proof."

Harry nodded, still doing his level best to look as innocent as a dove. "Has anyone ever tried to get back at them by themselves..." he trailed again.

Campbell stopped and looked around, as if to check they were really alone. Harry's heart raced. Either he had just acquired a partner in crime, or he was in trouble. "Some people have tried," Campbell said, his voice lower than it had been the last time he spoke. "Sometimes they even succeed, but that just makes the twins retaliate. It tends to create a tit-for-tat cycle until one of the Professors, usually McGonagall, puts a stop to it."

Campbell was still looking at Harry expectantly, which Harry took to be his cue to proceed. Still, he was careful. "So, they could usually tell who had got them. But they must have tons of enemies by now. If they couldn't trace it to anyone, and it was something that got them into trouble with the Professors to begin with, they would just have to suffer through it, wouldn't they?" Harry asked, feeling he could let on more of what was really on his mind, as the older boy seemed willing to entertain his ideas so far.

"I suppose so," Campbell replied. "Why are you asking me that, Potter? Do you have some sort of scheme in mind?"

"Well, that depends on how willing you are to put away your prefect badge in order to get back at them. If you're not, we'll just pretend this whole conversation never happened..." Harry trailed, still unsure as to what lengths the older boy was willing to go to.

"Tell me what you're thinking, and regardless of whether I go along with it or not, I won't tell anyone," the older boy replied, looking slightly perplexed, and yet intrigued by Harry's suggestion.

Knowing he could speak freely, Harry told him his plan.

After the slightly convoluted explanation, Campbell laughed. "That's not badly thought out, I must say, Potter. No wonder you got put into Slytherin. There's a few things I would change, though..." The two boys talked in hushed tones for the better part of half an hour, before each going their own way, the Ravenclaw on his patrol route, Harry back to the dungeons. They would still have to iron things out and set a date, but a happy agreement had been reached. The more he got to know Ravenclaws, the more he liked them.


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