ABOUT THE PAIRINGS/SHIPS/WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT IN THIS FIC: In this fic and the sequel there won't be any pairings. Whenever Harry mentions his doubts about somebody's sexuality, there's nothing implied. Of course if you're into that sort of thing, you can take it as a sign but Non-slash/Non-Yaoi shippers stay assured, I did not intended it to be. I repeat: no pairings/ships what so ever in this fic. Actually in this universe/series, ships will only be used for plot development. If you expect a light-hearted story, please enjoy the first two fics in the series but later, in Year 3, this shit gets incredibly dark.


Harry had never believed that he would meet a person such a hypocritical and annoying person but apparently Draco Malfoy truly was one of a kind. Pity that they were in the same house. He couldn't even get him in trouble because that would lose Slytherin points most of the school cared about. It was bad enough that he was famous, he didn't need to receive any more attention. It was distracting and more than a little annoying. He couldn't even focus on the task that Rin had so kindly thrusted upon him. Where did she get all that information anyways? Tch. Probably She ((A/N: Morrígan is referred to as She/Her/etc. by Harry and all of Morrígan's...helpers (creatures like Rin, Leila etc.)) had told her so that Rin could protect Hary better. Still, she was annoying and lazy.

Time passed and Thursday came: a day Harry had cursed internally ever since he found out that Gryffindor and Slytherin were having flying lessons together. Great, even more idiots to deal with. As if that wasn't enough, Malfoy hadn't shut up for a single second ever since he found out about it. It was flying this and flying that, as well as Weasley this and Weasley that. Seriously, he talked about the ginger so much that if Harry hadn't noticed him ogling Pancy Parkinson knicker's when the wind had lifted up her skirt last week, he would have thought that hate wan't the only thing Malfoy felt towards the other boy.

On Thursday, Harry contemplated ditching just so he wouldn't deal with the idiots but, alas, he couldn't do that. Instead, he got up and went to breakfast, swearing like a sailor under his breath. If even a single person dared to even so much as look at him, he was ready with a nifty little curse that would give the offender emotionally-scaring hallucinations and dreams for a whole day. As he was eating the (incredibly tasteless) breakfast, a barn owl flew into the room and landed on Gryffindor's table. Neville, the round faced boy with the frog, opened it excitedly and showed his fellow housemates a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke, which, according to Neville's words, was a remembrall. Apparently it told you when you had forgotten to do something, but Harry deemed it completely useless due to the fact that it didn't reveal what is it that you had forgotten. Useless stuff. Oh, how he hated them. Of course Malfoy, being the stuck-up pureblood he was, snatched the remembrall from Neville's hand. At that moment, Harry wanted to slam his face on the table. Of course, nothing happened because McGonagall had interfered before the idiot could do anything even more...well, idiotic.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry and the other Slytherins were already on the smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance when the Gryffindors finally decided to grace them with their presence. There were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground, which, according to rumours, started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. "Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'

"UP" everyone shouted. Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry felt malicious contentment bubble up in him when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years. Finally something that'll shut the fucker up.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and - WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. "Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get.".

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. It was a pathetic sight but humans were fragile and cried easily, so it wasn't really a surprise.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"You. Are. An. Arse. ((A/N: whoever gets the "You. Are. An. Ass." reference gets a cookie)) Malfoy, if you're thinking of what I think you're thinking." drawled out Harry as he glared at his housemate. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy, the smug prick, only smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry glared, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Pity that is, Harry had hoped that he would fall and break something. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

"Yeah, right." right Harry humorously and took the wand out of his pocket. "Accio remembrall."

In the next instant, the object flew into his hand, leaving a stunned Malfoy to clutch the air. Smiling smugly, Harry dusted off imaginary dust from his robes and shoved the remembrall into Granger's hand.

"Here. Give it to him when you next see him."

"S-sure." she stuttered in response, clearly still in awe that he had performed a spell which was above their year level.

"DRACO MALFOY!"

Everybody turned to look at the very enraged Professor McGonagall who was running towards them.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck -. Follow me. NOW!"

When Malfoy made no move, McGonagall took his ear in her hands and started dragging him towards the castle.

After the class ended, Harry felt somebody pull his sleeve and when he turned around, ha came face to face with a fidgeting Hermione Granger.

"What is it, Granger?"

"I was wondering if-seeing as how you summoned the remembrall, even though we weren't suppose to know that spell yet-and I was wondering, if you would, well, help me...learn new spells."

Harry was about to say no to her request when he suddenly remembered Rin's letter.

"Fine." he agreed, making Hermione's face brighten considerably. "There are, however, some conditions."

"Oh." the girl's face immediately fell "What are they?"

"First: you don't ask me any personal questions."

"I can do that."

"And second: you do everything the way I tell you do it. Even if the books say something completely different.

"But-" she started to protest but Harry interrupted her.

"These are my conditions. Take it or leave it." he said making her know that it was a final

The girl sighed dejectedly but nodded her head in agreement.

"We have a deal" smiled Harry but to Hermione it seemed like a wolfish grin and, frankly, it send shivers down her spine. "Meet you at midnight in the trophy room, that's always unlocked."

"But the curfew-" she started to protest but Harry had already ran off towards his next class.

Hermione arrived at the trophy room at exactly twelve o'clock but couldn't see Harry anywhere.

"He probably tricked me. How could I have been so stupid." she mumbled to herself.

"Good to know how high you think of me, Granger." whispered someone in her ear, making Hermione scream. Or at least, she would have screamed if a pale hand hadn't silenced her.

"Don't or they'll hear us." hissed Harry through gritted teeth before removing his hand.

They had been practicing for only twenty minutes when they heard a noise in the next room that made them jump. It was Filch talking to his cat Mrs. Norris

"Somebody must have overheard us talking and has alerted Filch." Harry hissed angrily as he seized Hermione's hand by the wrist and ran like Rin from a church.

They ran through what seemed to be the whole castle when they finally decided to stop and let Hermione catch her breath. Unfortunately, neither of them knew where exactly they were. Suddenly they heard a crashing sound not too far off and, having no other choice, quickly ran into the only room in sight after unlocking the door with an Alohomora. They heard some shuffling from the other side of the door but it quickly went away. Filch must have given up.

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant. When Rin said a Cerberus, Harry hadn't imagined something at least a tad bit smaller. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do with this, so he seized the doorknob.

They fell backward - Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared - all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached what they both had deemed to be a safe place.

"That thing-it was standing-on something." panted out Hermione.

"Yeah. But we'll discuss it another time, ok? Somewhere safe. Right now, we should get to bed."

And with these final words they parted.

Instead of sleeping, Harry tried to think of what that dog could have been guarding.