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Chapter Ten: The Bargain

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It had taken some time to wait for a private moment in the hectic and busy time, but Helga had told him to leave early and pay attention to his friends. Ginny had a detention with Snape, which meant that she wouldn't be around until later, and most probably would go straight to bed. Three hours of scrubbing cauldrons did that to a person.

Ron and Hermione were both out of the question as well. As was becoming usual, Harry and Ginny had placated one after another as they came from their morning, afternoon and evening arguments. Now they were both quietly sulking. Ron had gone upstairs and promptly fallen asleep, and Hermione had her nose in a book, quickly fending him off with a few spiky comments. In fact, this suited Harry rather well, because after another evening of pruning plants and talking to a singularly chatty portrait he'd found (Helga had informed him that the bespectacled man had a lot to offer, if only he could get past the chatter), all Harry wanted to do was sit and think.

Or, as it worked out, write a letter. Harry had come to appreciate letter writing over the years as one of the things that calmed him. There was just something about the quiet flow of ink from his quill and the words appearing on the page that made him forget everything that was going on around him. It also gave him time to accurately formulate his thoughts, unlike in speech.

He reached for his trunk, undoing the enchantments and lifting the lid. He rummaged around for a few moments before drawing out a quill and parchment. While he re-applied the wards and enchantments over the large box, he mused that as soon as the next Hogsmeade weekend came around, he would find a shop that sold well-protected trunks.

The thing he liked about Hogsmeade was that if he wandered off the main road (which he had been prone to stick to up until the previous year), he encountered a whole range of small, specialist shops. If he wanted to buy a good quality and unique travelling trunk, then that would be his best bet. Of course, he thought, he could wait until the Christmas break and he and Ginny visited the other wizarding places she'd mentioned. But that was an internal debate for another day.

Lifting a book up to rest on, he laid the parchment across it and began to write. It took him quite awhile to compose the letter as he wanted it, but once he'd finished it he read it over and felt quite satisfied, idly noting that his handwriting was gradually getting neater over the years.

'Dear Snuffles,

I know you haven't heard from me for awhile, but I've been busier than I've ever been. I've information that would make the Marauders green with envy, but I can't tell you until I convince her I'm allowed to. She seemed quite resistant to it, so I'll have to work on that (and no, I'm not dating anyone, so get your head out of the gutter).

My lessons are fascinating, although I'm still stuck with Snape in Potions, but after this many years he's stopped bothering me all together. It just doesn't make sense to get angry with him just because he's a grumpy old git. I suspect he simply can't help it – can you even imagine him smiling?

In Transfiguration we've started learning about Animagus Transformation. Now, I know you can probably guess what I'm going to ask you, but you did promise that you'd show me when I was ready, and believe me, there's nothing I'd want more in the world than to become an Animagus. You could make it my Christmas present for the next three years perhaps? Do you think Remus would want to help? It's difficult for me to tell, because he pays attention to rules more than you do.

I hope you're enjoying yourself in whatever tropical country you've vacated to. I expect to see you with a sun tan and new clothes when we next meet. Talking about that, are you around over Christmas break, because Ginny and I are going to visit a whole load of wizarding places that I didn't even know existed before this year. You know we'd love to bring our ever-faithful black dog along too.

Love,

Harry'

Harry reread it for the second time, corrected a small mistake and folded it in half, magically sealing it. He tucked it into the book he had been leaning on and placed the volume back into a drawer of his bedside table. He would write a similar note to Remus tomorrow, but as of now he was far too tired.

He walked sleepily into the bathroom, brushed his teeth and headed back to bed, casting a quick fold-me spell on his clothes. He was very happy with Molly Weasley's book on household charms. They had included several that he'd already used, such as the packing charm and the fold-me charm. There were many more along those lines, but Harry hardly needed to iron out the wrinkles in his robes when they were made of smoke. Although the label assured him that they were compatible with regular household charms, Harry wasn't going to push his luck.

His last thought before sleep overtook him was a muddled musing about whether his Cloak of Smoke would burn if he ironed it for too long.

---

Darkness surrounded him, creeping over his skin and whispering in his ears. This wasn't an oppressive type of darkness, no, not at all. Harry drifted through it, stumbling over the slightly rocky floor, ducking a little to miss catching his head on the sloped ceiling. He moved forwards, reached forwards, was pulled forwards. He was gliding on unhindered, pulled by that lovely voice, calling him like siren song, so soft and alluring.

He stumbled a little, putting out a hand to steady himself and encountered rock. Cool, unyielding stone. Yet he knew that he could pass through it, why he was sure that he had done it before. Pushing, he felt his hand sink into the stone, then his arm, and finally his body.

There was a moment of stillness as he found himself entirely surrounded by stone, and he wondered distantly what it would be like to be stuck there. Then his fingertips broke free of the other side, and he oozed out of the cave-in as slowly as he had entered.

The other side was darkness, but he knew that a long winding tunnel stretched away before him. The cold and drip of water was stronger here, pushing his senses.

"Come…"

Harry blinked. There was a moment of wild disorientation as he struggled to work out the perspective around him. He fell, or at least he assumed that he was falling, because he still felt unsure of how the force of gravity was working today. It was only when his knees hit the floor with a soft thump and dull sting of pain that he realised that he had been standing. Surely he should be in his bed? Where was he?

Looking around he wondered momentarily if he was still in the cave – it was so dark. But the floor was even, and the sensitive pads of his toes could feel smooth stone. With a start he realised that his arm was outstretched, reaching for something. Moving forwards his fingers touched cool metal. A doorknob.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief before realising that he was really quite cold. He had taken to wearing pyjamas since the deep chills had started, but he had obviously thrown off the top in the night due to all the warming charms he'd placed around the bed. He stood slowly, peering around. Behind him was the comforting shape of a window. It looked as if he was still in the boy's dormitory, and thank Merlin for small mercies. He didn't like to think of how he was supposed to explain to Filch or Snape that he had been sleepwalking in the corridors.

With a shudder he began to walk back to his bed. However, luck seemed against him, and time seemed to slow as the prequel to the deep chills came on. Harry tried to drag himself forwards, urging his mind to snap out of the gentle trance it always fell into.

The roaring and rush that sounded like water was building again, and Harry stumbled as he reached his bed, pulling the covers back so that he could slip into it. He had just got his feet off of the cold stone floor when the noise stopped, and the chill came upon him. This cold seemed deeper and harsher than ever before, but Harry mused that it was probably because he had already been out of bed and had become chilled. He fumbled for his wand with numb fingers.

He was about to strengthen the warming charms when he had a thought. Instead, he cast a detection charm, and was alarmed to find that his previous spells were glimmering and fading out of existence. He waited a few more moments for them to completely disappear, his teeth chattering all the while before casting fresh ones.

To his utmost dismay these too began to fade, although at a much slower rate. Harry watched with dawning horror as they slowed and stilled, leaving the charms at half their normal power. Something was certainly wrong, and Harry was going to get to the bottom of it.

With a flick of his wand he had drawn the curtains around his bed shut and cast an unseen light charm that would prevent the other occupants of the room from waking when he cast lumos. He cast a silencing charm to cover any noise he might make, before turning to his trunk and removing all the books that he thought might mention the absorption of magic. With that done, he turned to the introduction in his Charms textbook. It seemed the likeliest place for that sort of information to be. He was in luck, for on the second page was the sort of thing he was looking for:

"Magic, in a similar fashion to chemical reactions, expel heat as the spells break down, and cause a cool when magic is absorbed from nearby surroundings."

Harry growled in frustration as he scanned the paragraph for anything more. He needed more information than that. He slammed the book shut with a snap, grateful for his silencing spells, before turning to the next. It took him roughly ten minutes to find the next mention of it, and he nearly missed the paragraph as he turned the page. With a soft sigh he leant forwards and began to read:

"The expulsion of heat from the decay of spells is reasonably common, although the magnitude of the temperature change depends on the strength of the spell. A lowering of surrounding temperature is less common, and impossible in humans as the magic is drawn from the central core of the body, which is adapted to the change. A few magical creatures and plants are known to have a place in this reaction, such as the Strangler Fig. Objects can also be charmed to absorb magical energy."

Harry stared blankly at the page. The next paragraph went on to discuss how the theory applied to transfiguration, which he didn't really need to know. The paragraph had only told him what he already knew to be the case, and Harry was beyond frustrated. There wasn't a chance of him visiting the library to look through books this late at night, particularly when sleep still clung to him like a second skin and he had woken up to find himself sleepwalking. No, that sort of exploration would have to wait until the morning.

With a sigh he packed his textbooks away and pulled his quill and parchment towards him. There was no better time than now to write to Remus, and it wasn't as if he was going to get any more sleep tonight with such a puzzle haunting him.

---

It was five thirty in the morning when Harry stepped out of the Gryffindor common room and headed down towards the Great Hall. He called out quiet greetings to the paintings that were awake, politely apologising for waking those who had been asleep. He was nearing the hall when one of the paintings called out to him. It was hung beside an indented window with a heavy stone seat and Harry walked over, although he chose not to sit on the freezing stone. It was cold enough just standing there, and he rubbed his hands together in a futile attempt to warm them.

The painting was of a pale witch with mismatched eyes and shoulder-length black hair. She was depicted on a chaise lounge, and spent most of her days drinking coffee and smoking from the elegant hookah that stood beside her. Harry wondered vaguely when the picture had been painted, and what kind of narcotics had been legal then.

"I heard something that might interest you, little sprite." In keeping with the decadent painting, Harry had found the witch in it to be rather wicked too.

"What is it?" he asked, curious. It wasn't very often that paintings called him aside to tell him things. She raised a brow and peered either side of the painting before lowering her voice.

"It's about your search," she said with a wink. "There's a rumour going around the paintings that one of the four you're looking for had been seen in the dungeons a long time ago."

"Ravenclaw," Harry breathed, casting a suspicious glance around the hall.

"Oh yes. It's uncommon that we're moved around at all, and if we are it is more certainly not by the headmaster of the school." She smirked a little at this. "It's only a rumour, but I hear that the woman in the portrait was protesting quite loudly, or would have been were it not for the silencing charm. One of the paintings commented and was stunned. Which is certainly cause for interest." The woman took a long drag on the hookah and blew smoke out of her nostrils.

"The forgetful old girl only just remembered. She's in the dungeons, near the potions classroom." She looked at Harry with those odd eyes for a long moment. "I believe that she has a pet snake about her feet. Perhaps the memory of that one is a little better."

"Thank you so much," Harry replied with a half bow, and the woman winked at him before staring off over his shoulder.

"You look in a pleasant mood today Severus," she said, a wicked smile coming over her features. Harry twirled round to see the man standing directly behind him.

"What, may I ask, are you doing talking to a portrait at this time in the morning Mr Potter?" he asked silkily, causing Harry to twitch a little.

"She's pleasant company," he replied, proud that he had kept the quaver out of his voice.

"Of course," Snape said sarcastically. "It is a common occurrence for students, especially Gryffindors to be talking to paintings at the late hour of six in the morning." Harry gulped. How long had he been standing there?

"Do lay off him Severus dear. He keeps me entertained." Snape glared a little at the portrait behind him.

"It's no use glaring at me. You should respect your elders," she said, her mouth curving into a small secretive smile.

"My deepest apologies if a portrait doesn't come at the top of the list for my respect," he snapped, his glare sharpening. Harry decided that now would be a good time to start edging away, but Snape's hand clamped onto his shoulder without him even breaking eye contact with the portrait.

"You Potter, are not going anywhere," he said in a dangerous voice. "I am very curious as to what you would have to say to this woman. She is certain to have influenced you somehow..." Harry tried desperately to stop his anger surfacing on his face, praying that his features fall into an expressionless mask.

"Now, now. Is that any way to speak to your great, great, great aunt Agatha?" Harry winced a little for her sake after seeing Snape's expression. Surely she would know better than to goad him this way. But then again if it was true…Harry tried very hard to keep himself from saying 'Great, great, great aunt!?' in an incredulous voice.

He couldn't help his eyes from widening a little at this though. Snape must have noticed, because he pulled Harry away from the painting that obviously knew far too much about him. He would have to ask her about that.

"Be on your way Potter." He spat Harry's name with distaste. "Five points from Gryffindor for conversing with paintings."

"You're too cruel Severus." Agatha teased before turning to Harry. "Remember what I said, and come see me soon, little sprite. I'll be waiting with all of Severus's dirty little secrets."

Harry had to cover a snort of amusement as he turned away from Snape's murderous expression. He didn't waste any time in sprinting to the Great Hall. He was not idiot enough to hang around after that. It seemed that talking to portraits had its own quirky benefits. There was no way he wouldn't return to the woman with his invisibility cloak, but perhaps he'd take the Marauder's map with him next time, and exercise a little more caution.

The Great Hall was empty but for two other students that sat at the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables. Harry wasted no time in calling up a house elf and asking for some toast, jam and coffee, as the tables weren't set yet. The pale blue light of early morning streamed through the windows, casting patches of sunlight onto the empty tables.

He perused a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been left on the table, frowning at the small article mentioning the mysterious Chills at Hogwarts, and several ludicrous speculations on their causes, one of which contemplated the idea of Dumbledore housing an Ice Giant in the dungeons. Harry snorted at that. He wasn't sure if he should be worried or amused that it wasn't such a difficult stretch of the imagination to imagine the eccentric headmaster keeping a creature like that on the grounds.

He was half way through his breakfast when he was surprised to feel a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he found himself even more surprised to see Draco Malfoy standing behind him. Swallowing his mouthful of food he shifted so that he could better see him.

"Yes?"

"Potter," Draco said formally, with as little malice in his voice as Harry had ever heard from him. Harry blinked, and the other boy took a deep breath. "I've come to apologise for my thoughtless remarks to you and the Weaslette on the train."

For a moment Harry just stared at him. His expression and pale eyes gave nothing away, but Harry was sure that he had an ulterior motive.

"What's the joke?" he asked dully.

"There isn't one," Draco said with a sigh, before moving gracefully into the seat beside him. "I mean what I said, both now and then. I really am curious about your fight with a Basilisk."

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. His expression had changed slightly, softened and opened as if he were relaxed and telling the truth, but Harry was unsure. His Slytherin side was screaming several things at him: the first being that Draco was almost definitely lying, or if he wasn't then he definitely had some dubious motive. The second thing was that Harry would be a fool to let the opportunity to get something out of the blonde to pass him by. The third was that if he told him, he would be tempting Fate by putting himself in a dangerous position. Absorbing all of these things, he turned back and picked up his coffee, taking a long sip and acting nonchalant. Two could play this game.

"You'll need to tempt me a little more than that Malfoy," he replied, and could see the other boy's eyes widen slightly in his peripheral vision.

"I suppose I'll just ask the Weasel then," Draco said dryly. Harry was distantly surprised that he managed to keep his anger in check so well at the comment, but rather pleased with himself for not exploding nonetheless.

"Oh, yes, please do. You bruise such a nice colour." Harry said, still sipping his coffee and ignoring Draco. "Besides, he wasn't there up close and personal," he proffered, tightening his offer that little bit more. He was curious to see how far the other boy would go for information, and what he could possibly offer him in return.

"How Slytherin of you," the other boy remarked, his voice still neutral. Harry thought he detected a little surprise in there as well.

"Much more than you know," Harry replied shortly, turning his startling green eyes on the blonde. "Well then, cold-blood, what's your bait for me?" Harry drawled, using a name he and Ginny had laughed about for him. Draco's lips curved into a predatory smile. This was an area he knew how to deal with.

"As I've said before, the Malfoy family has a lot to offer."

Harry had to let a little smile cross his face. He'd fooled, persuaded and bargained his way for food, clothes and shelter for most of his life. Did this boy think he was inept enough to demand something as trivial as a few galleons of the Malfoy fortune?

Just then, his mind flicked back to his and Ginny's visit to Borgin and Burkes. He remembered that silver cane that had rested in the corner, and Borgin's description of it. A brother cane, hmm? Well, there was no better time to find out about its twin.

"Yes, I'm sure it does. Very impressive. Much like your father's cane hmm?" Harry smirked inwardly at Draco's surprised reaction.

"I'm afraid that's a little out of you reach Potter." His tone had turned cold, Harry noted.

"I'm simply asking for knowledge Draco, just like you." Harry stressed the other boy's first name. Draco almost visibly relaxed at this. Harry wondered what could possibly be so interesting about that cane.

"What particular knowledge?" The other boy asked warily. Harry was sure that he was going to be more careful with Harry from know on, but at least he was agreeing to it.

"An all round version, just like you're going to ask for. With one particular, which you are probably going to ask for too." Harry drawled. He was rather glad that no one was really around to witness this bargain of theirs, or at least overhear it. He watched Draco hesitate before resolution set into his eyes.

"A deal then. If broken it invokes a spell of the other person's choice. Within reason of course," he agreed, and moved his hand forwards for him to shake. Harry was struck with the sudden parody of his original offer on the train. No doubt that Draco was thinking the same thing, although it probably had far worse connotations for him. Harry shook it after a moment's pause, wondering if he was being even more foolhardy than usual. He was reminded of the phrase 'deal with the devil'.

"Deal." Draco nodded shortly.

"So Potter, you going to tell the tale or not?" He drawled. Harry's returning grin was a little feral.

"Well, that depends on several things. The first being that I could effectively not tell if for years, considering we didn't put a time frame any of this." Harry was glad he'd brought this up, since he was sure that Draco was thinking of saying the same thing to Harry when he had to cough up his end of the deal. This was confirmed by the flash of irritation that showed on the other boy's face.

"The time frame is within two days. Deal?" He extended his hand once more.

"Deal." Harry repeated. "The second is whether we want to be seen sitting and conversing civilly over breakfast. The third is whether I want my story spread around the whole school by lunchtime because of this," he finished and watched as Draco absorbed it all.

"You're surprisingly perceptive for a Gryffindor," the other boy stated carefully.

"One gets in practice now and then," Harry replied blandly.

"The second: it would be amusing to see the reactions. The third: we can simply set up silencing charms." Harry nodded. Those had been his thoughts exactly.

"It's always good to keep people on their toes. I'll try and keep Ron from hitting you if you follow through with your half of the deal. Otherwise, I'll add a few myself. And Reverse spells are my speciality."

"Brilliant. Begin," Draco said imperiously, gesturing to a house elf and ordering his tea and plate of food moved over to the Gryffindor table.

So Harry did. He told him of his travels down with Lockhart and Ron (although not where the entrance was, or how to open the doors), the collapse of the cave, how he found Ginny lying there, and how he met Tom Riddle.

"It may interest you to know that the Dark Lord is a half-blood," Harry put in casually, continuing despite Draco's outraged stare. "So, then he 'matched the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin against famous Harry Potter'. I quote there." Harry added dryly. "I did a lot of ducking and weaving with my eyes shut. Fawkes pecked out the Basilisk's eyes, and I pulled a sword out the hat, so to speak. From then on, I had great fun fleeing from my life from a monster that could no longer drop me with a gaze, but could still swallow me whole in the blink of an eye. Or rather, in the blink of an empty eye socket," Harry joked, and Draco rolled his eyes slightly at Harry's poor pun.

"I did several interesting weaves through the pillars before I finally managed to turn and jump aside, as the Basilisk put a rather nice dent in one of them. From then on I had a good time trying to slash its nostrils so that it couldn't smell me. I didn't even try and think about its ears because then I didn't know where a snake's ears are. It was one of the things I found out shortly after I left the Chamber. As it turns out I would have had difficulty rendering it deaf anyway. After that, I got in a nice, lucky strike, and the sword went straight through the roof of its mouth and into its brain. I'm beginning to think that the secret of my success is dumb luck," Harry said dryly, draining his cup of coffee.

"You're Fate's joke," Draco drawled. "Go on."

"What makes you think there's more?" Harry asked. He couldn't resist teasing the blonde.

"There is. Go on," Draco said forcefully.

"Well, the big old snake died, and I got an armful of basilisk tooth." Draco's eyes widened marginally.

"You're still alive," he stated. Harry snorted in response.

"Turns out I'm immune to Basilisk venom," Harry deadpanned. Draco blinked before scowling at him.

"Phoenix tears," Harry admitted finally, and this time Draco's mask really did drop, and he looked on Harry with something that was approaching awe.

"That honour is incredibly rare," he said softly.

"Yes. Anyway, my half of the deal is complete. You have your information," he said, turning to the other boy.

"How did Tom Riddle die?"

"That's not in the fine print, Malfoy," Harry told him flatly. He wanted to keep some things to himself. Draco sighed in irritation, but relented.

"Now for your half," Harry told him. Draco got to his feet and bowed mockingly to him.

"Two days, remember? I've got time."

"Just remember," Harry cautioned him, "I know enough about these deals to know that you owe me now. You can't escape wizard's law Malfoy."

"Of course not. See you on Tuesday morning." Harry growled in irritation as the other boy stalked off. He was going to make him wait the whole extent of the time limit! But then again, he was probably using it to buy him enough time to ask his father what he could and couldn't tell Harry.

"Hey Harry, was that Malfoy you were just talking to?" said an excitable voice. Harry turned to find Colin Creevey standing behind him and restrained a groan. It was going to be a long day.

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Notes:

So, Harry enters into a bargain with his schoolyard nemesis. I feel that it's worth mentioning, as it may not be immediately apparent, but in these early chapters Harry is rather foolish and innocent, making decisions from a more childish point of view than he might otherwise. If some of his self-assurance and foolhardiness seem to be just that, it's because I'm trying to make him evolve gradually.

The Time Frame - Since some of you have been expressing concerns about this - I began this story around January, and posted the first chapter then. However, I realised that I probably wasn't organised enough to post each chapter as I wrote it and still pick up possible plot holes along the way. Things just change when I write them, and some stuff in earlier chapters would need to be edited, so I decided to leave off posting the story until I'd completed it, leaving the first chapter up here on I haven't completed it yet, but with it levelling around 89 chapters I thought it would be safe enough to continue posting, and I have been since about late october every three to four days. I'll carry on until I run out of chapters or finish it. Hope that explains the starting date and what appears to be a pretty poor update record.

Thanks for the reviews and support,

Dream Red