"Do not fight when you can run"

-Ancient Chinese Proverb

Harry Potter: The Chronicles of Power

Part Ten

Harry Potter & the Whispers of Desire

Chapter Ten: Fight and Flight

ATTENTION ALL FIRST YEAR STUDENTS

All Hogwarts First Year students will have a single 'Introduction to Flying' lesson, which is happening this coming Thursday, taking place immediately after your Transfiguration lesson.

The lesson, which will be taken by the Hogwarts Flying Instructor, Madam Hooch, will last for approximately one hour and will be taking place down on the school's quidditch pitch.

Your attendance is mandatory.

For this lesson, you have been paired up with students from Gryffindor House, and as such I expect a full turnout, no absences or late-joiners - no exceptions - and I remind you, that you are to handle yourselves in a manner deemed acceptable by Madam Hooch.

You are expected NOT to create an issue, nor are you to be caught in a scenario, in which I will be required to intervene or make my displeasure known.

Additional lessons will then be undertaken every week at the same time, should you elect to take them - these are not mandatory. I do, however, advise that all hopeful and wanting future quidditch players attend these classes every week - both House Captain Marcus Flint and I will be using them to help gage your potential future performance(s).

Do not allow yourselves to disappoint me.

- Professor S. Snape
Hogwarts Potion Master
Head of Slytherin House

As their second week of learning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had progressed, looking up at the noticeboard hadn't become any easier for Harry after that particular piece of information had stuck up earlier that same week by one of the Seventh Year prefects.

Since it had been posted, he had then since been forced to listen to every other male member of his year (and Millicent), argue over what they thought all the best broomstick on the market was; (it was apparently a Nimbus 2000 - whatever that was). That had then evolved into discussion about all of their best childhood adventures in the air, (quite frankly, none of which he was sure he believed), as well as hearing all of them arguing over their favourite quidditch teams and players, all of which he'd never heard of, and about the best matches they'd each been to see.

He'd taken a quick trip to the library during their lunchtime on Monday, using it to continue his self-imposed task of avoiding Alexander, (a task the rest of Slytherin House was enjoying (and being extremely amused by) assisting him in), so that he could look up just exactly what quidditch was.

He'd had the subject briefly explained to him once, by Blaise on the train ride in to Hogwarts, but even after an extensive review of the sport, he still found that he was surprised, to be surprised, that wizards and witches even had sports, because why wouldn't they?

Even if they involved broomsticks.

That just made it seem cooler in his opinion.

It's sort of like a mix between football and basketball, but played in the air.

He was glad to see that even some of the other girls had eventually gotten involved with the quidditch talk, making it a (sort-of) bonding activity for all of them, in fact, it was only Pansy that had stuck her nose in the air, calling quidditch too 'brutish' for her 'delicate tastes', before she had walked away, leaving the rest of them sat at their table, barely even noticing her absence.

It had also since been made extremely obvious to him that Tracey was something of a fanatic for a team called 'The Tutshill Tornadoes', (whoever they were), and after she had told him that, aloud in their common room where the others could hear her, she had then immediately clashed with Millicent and her much beloved 'Puddlemere United', (again, Harry found himself wondering, 'who?').

He didn't quite get the point of the sport, (was there some kind of League or Cup he didn't know about?), or why it seemed so thrilling. When they'd began discussing the sport instead of their broomsticks, he felt he wouldn't be able to understand it all until he actually had the chance to take in a game, though even Crabbe and Goyle were quick to assure him he would be able to soon, given that there were four school teams and Gryffindor versus Slytherin was always the first game of the new season.

He was still somewhat excited by the thought of a new aspect of being a wizard, even if it did sound like the multitude of sports he'd been forced to play as a child; but he thought he was smart enough to stay quiet about that particular fact - he was confident the rest of his housemates wouldn't appreciate their apparently universally beloved sport being compared to a 'filthy muggle game', and in truth, Harry found he was loathe to disagree.

Even Blaise - the one person he knew that completely abhorred anything and everything that could even possibly result in the 'besmirching of his immaculate appearance', had a few of his own stories to share about flying, and a love of the game he felt the need to spread to Harry at every available opportunity.

Daphne Greengrass, who was one of the quieter girls in their entire year, had even given him a drawn-out, well-reasoned and strongly impassioned twenty minute speech on just exactly who the 'Holyhead Harpies' were, what their list of rather impressive accomplishments as a team was, and why being the only all-female team in the world made them the best team by far.

In fact, the only other first year he had found to be even slightly as nervous for the upcoming lesson as he was, which didn't say much, as the rest of the school seemed to avoid all Slytherins on general principle, was Morag; as a result, the two of them had spent what was left of their Monday afternoon, after their lessons had finished for the day, holed up in the library, seeing if the books had anything to offer on flying theory and general tips.

After a small smile and a short, but nonetheless polite conversation with Madam Pince, the school's librarian, she was happy to show them both to a small stand near the very back of the library, which held a small, pain black, leather-bound book, as well as plain quill and small black inkpot.

They had then both watched on, somewhat transfixed, as she wrote 'flying' on the book's first page, before the ink melted into the paper, disappearing completely, before being replaced by inky washes of black, which then moulded themselves into words.

Now, taking a moment to quickly read through the words, Harry and Morag were amazed to see that there was a list of titles and author's names, as well as location information for books that had flying as the main subject of the work.

Whipping out her wand from her pocket, she brandished it at the book's page of names, and then with a sharp jabbing motion, incanted "Geminio", and the two of them watched as a second page seemingly materialised itself out of thin air, before gently dropping itself through the air, until it was low enough that Morag could catch it.

It was now certain; Harry loved magic.

A quick check with Madam Pince was all that was needed to be certain that what they had was actually an exact copy of the page they had just seen. Offering the kind librarian another smile, Morag muttered a muted, "Thanks", squeaking slightly and receiving a small smile in return; one which served to seemingly de-age the elderly woman's appearance by a decade, before she bade them a quiet, "goodbye", and then left them to search through her beloved shelves for their books.

They spent the next three hours before dinner going through the list that they had been provided with, flicking over the smaller books and thumbing their way through thicker tomes, attempting to find anything they said about flying and what they had on flying tips, only to find that the only real thing the books said at all, was that flying had to be 'practiced' and not 'studied'.

And a fat lot of good that is for us.

Feeling slightly disheartened, but bolstered by the fact that they were at least going to be able to suffer together, the two of them had returned the books to their proper places, under the hawk-like eyes, and protective stare of Madam Pince, before they went down to dinner together, joining their housemates at their table, just in time for the Roast Lamb chops to be served.

For flying, it seemed, they would have to be patient.

Luckily, growing up with the Dursleys had given Harry plenty of practice.

Tuesday and Wednesday passed with no major incidents.

Or even minor ones for that matter.

On Thursday morning, Harry awoke in his room, earlier than everyone else in his year did, which was now becoming their House's standard practice, and went about his morning routine of his ablutions and dressing himself. He finished when he tied the Windsor knot around his neck, settling his tie under his jumper, before he slid his wand holster onto his right wrist, pulling it tight, and slipping his wand off of its stand and into place.

Picking up his copy of Hogwarts: A History, he settled into what had become known to the other First Years as 'Potter's Chair'. It was the second armchair from the fire, where he was now found nearly every morning, sat comfortably in his seat, where he wasn't so close to the fire as to start sweating, nor was he far away enough that the early morning light was too dim to read his book.

For Harry, it was the perfect spot.

He waited for Blaise to drag himself out of bed, while he read through some more of whatever book he chose on that day. Thursday's was 'Hogwarts: A History', which had him feeling slightly antsy as he moved, one page at a time, closer to reading about the Inter-House Duelling Tournament, and had just finished up 'Chapter Seven: The Unknown', when Blaise appeared at his side, looking as composed as he ever did, with his light brown hair swept perfectly off to the side.

Marking his page, he returned the book to his bookshelf, and grabbed his cloak from his wardrobe, before he accompanied Blaise up to the Great Hall, and into breakfast.

Their first lesson for the day was Charms, where they were supposed to be studying the theory of the 'Lumos' spell, but as Harry had already managed to successfully cast and maintain the spell, without it flickering out, after their last class on it, and seeing as he had also completed the theory work on their other spell - the levitation charm, Professor Flitwick had set him a challenge that he was to work on while everyone else took notes.

He'd given a few of his notes on the basic fire charm, and then set him the challenge of seeing if he could manage to understand the spell in his own time - but he was only to try and attempt to cast it under his direct supervision.

Nearing the end of the lesson, when he was feeling confident in his understanding of the spell to try casting it, he worked with Morag, helping her with her own theory work, until she was happy with the spell, and before the bell sounded throughout the halls, and they were dismissed, she had earned Slytherin five points for successfully managing to levitate her feather.

And while the rest of their class dispersed, Blaise and Harry stayed behind, waiting for the rest of them to leave, so that Harry could have a go a casting 'Incendio'.

When Pansy rushed out after Draco and his two goons, Professor Flitwick vanished all of the feathers that were sitting on the desks, and conjured up a small stack of paper for Harry to aim at, offering him an encouraging smile.

"Whenever you're ready Mister Potter, you may begin"

Nodding his understanding, he drew in a deep breath, as Blaise took a step off to the side, towards where Professor Flitwick was, and out of the way.

He already knew that the wand motion was a snapping motion in the direction he wanted the flames to go, and the incantation was 'Incendio', but he couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. This was the first time any of his teachers had asked him to do anything like this.

"I'm ready"

He spoke the words with a confidence he wasn't completely sure he felt, but he didn't doubt his ability to cast the spell.

Why would I?

You would not, for you are not weak…

He felt his resolve harden, as he slipped his left hand into his sleeve, drawing his wand from its place in his holster, and discretely slipping it into his right hand, in the way he'd become accustomed to drawing it, holding all twelve inches of yew wood in front of him.

Wasting no more time, he raised his hand into the air, snapping it down and towards the pile of paper that was now on his desk.

"Incendio!"

The result of his muted half-yell, combined with his intense concentration resulted in a jet of fire pouring from his wand, the force knocked his spell to the side slightly, setting fire to the corner of one of the room's sets of blinds, before he moved his aim back onto the paper, reducing it to a pile of cinders in seconds, even as the minute Charms professor fixed the damage.

"Oh ho!"

His concentration was interrupted by Professor Flitwick's exclamation and a brief splattering of applause, and a he turned his head to find the beaming face of his Charms teacher and a gobsmacked Blaise.

"Very well done Mister Potter! Take ten extremely well-deserved points for Slytherin! Extermely hot too…"

He couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh, "Thank you Sir", even as the tiny professor looked slightly upset, and spoke to him with a tone that was half-amused, half-disappointed.

"Ah, alas, if only you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw with talent like that"

He chuckled again, but decided not to let him know that he'd been slightly considered for the house of blue and bronze, instead, he bid his professor a simple goodbye, pleased with the way his spell had turned out, and received a promise that there would have something new for him for their next lesson, while everyone else would be finishing up their levitation charms.

Blaise fell into step with him as they made their way down to the Entrance Hall, where they could go to Herbology, finally knocked out of his stupor, as they descended the staircase, but still feeling surprised.

"For some reason Harry", the young wizards turned to face each other as they walked, "what you seem to be capable of scares me"

"What?" He turned his head more towards his best friend, taking his eyes off of the stairs for a moment, "Why?"

"Because", Blaise broke off eye contact as they reached the ground floor, "you probably have the least amount of knowledge about the wizarding world out of all the new First Years, yet you seem to be more capable than the rest of us at this stuff, and one day, I think the rest of us are going to hit a limit of the spells we can cast, and I'm not sure that you will"

Unsure of what to say in response, (what could he say to that?), both young wizards walked into the grounds in an amenable silence, and made their way into Greenhouse One, where they were just in time for Professor Sprout's rollcall, Blaise moved to stand with Theo and Tracey, and Harry joined Morag and Millicent at their workstation.

They were dismissed from Herbology slightly early, which gave them some extra time to get cleaned up before lunch, during which, they were then told by Marcus Flint, a surly looking sixth year, and the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, to keep it light, or they'd be seeing it again in their flying lesson.

Rather wisely, in Harry's opinion, they all decided to have the mushroom soup and bread rolls.

After lunch, they had their Transfiguration class with the Gryffindors, where Harry, Draco and Daphne, (and Granger), both earned five points apiece for being able to transfigure their lumps of metal into thimbles, and Alexander and Weasley, once again, tried to corner him, for another attempt at a 'family chat'.

He used Crabbe and Goyle as a moving wall, slipping behind them, and away to their Defence Class with Hufflepuff; leaving his confused twin behind as he tried to find him.

They had a lecture on the benefits and drawbacks of using different shield charms in a duel, and were treated to a tale of Professor Quirrell's duel against a Mongolian War Lord, which had earned him a not-too small plot of land in one of the regions of Eastern Mongolia, and the eternal thanks of everyone who lived there.

All in all, Harry thought he'd had quite a great day, and felt less nervous about their flying lesson than he had that morning, which also seemed to lighten up Morag as well, as they chatted about her levitation charm while making their way down to the quidditch pitch, led by Flint.

He walked them through the main entrance to the grounds, pointing out the different team's changing rooms as they went, and onto the main pitch.

There was a pile of twenty broomsticks left near the entrance, which Flint immediately began sifting through, calling them up one at a time, he handed them the better broomsticks from the pile, looking through them for the ones with the least amount of broken twigs, and the straightest bodies.

When he was happy that they all had equipment that was good enough for them to learn with, he moved them into a single file line, and showed them the way Madam Hooch would expect them to grip it, visibly taking some pleasure out of correcting Draco's grip, until he could see the red and gold of Gryffindor making their way down the grounds, when he left them on the pitch without sparing them a goodbye.

Draco had been put on one end of the line, nearest to where they were told Madam Hooch would be teaching them from, with Harry on the other side. For once, ignoring his twin, Alex made a beeline for the space opposite Malfoy, dragging Weasley into the space next to him, and sending the Malfoy Heir a dulled glare, which earned him a sneer in response.

Harry ended up with Longbottom opposite him, who sent him a small smile, looking terrified all the while, but he relaxed visibly, when he received a small nod in response.

From his place at the far end of the line, he could hear Alexander and Draco exchanging insults over each other's families, which he paid no attention to, but he was interested in just how easy it seemed to be for both of them to rile each other up.

He vaguely wondered if he would look as ridiculous as Alexander did, if he could get his own face to go the particular shade of red that his twin was now sporting.

Probably… best not risk it though.

Probably a wise decision.

When the argument began involving why Draco's parents were the, "scum of society"; a phrase Harry was sure that was being repeated from 'someone' else, and that he was welcome to join the rest of the 'slimy snakes' in getting 'matching Dark Marks' that his attention was pulled away from the broom at his feet.

He felt his eyebrows raise involuntarily, even as Daphne, Millicent and a few of the Gryffindors shot him looks of apprehension. It didn't take long for Alex to figure out what he had said, and who he had said it in front of, as he quickly turned to him, his face fully apologetic.

Thankfully, anything else that might've been said was stopped in its tracks by the arrival of Madam Hooch, her dark blue robes billowing behind her as she strode across the pitch towards them, with a silver whistle around her neck, and a broom already in her hand.

"Alright, alright, I'm here", the closer she got, the more Harry could make out her hawk-like eyes and windswept grey hair, "all of you now, stand next to a broom. Come on now, get on with it"

She was apparently going to be a no-nonsense, and slightly impatient, teacher, as she began tapping her foot while the lions sorted themselves into a reasonably straight line opposite their emerald counterparts.

When everyone was finally ready to get started, she blew her whistle three times, causing those closest to her to wince at the shrillness of the noise.

"Now", she ran her eyes over all of them, "I want all of you to place your right hand over the broom, and say 'up'"

"UP!"

At his strong command, Alexander's broom shot straight up and into his hand, before he took the time to send Draco a smug look.

"UP!"

Draco's broom leapt up to match it, before he sent the brown haired Gryffindor a smirk of his own, while everyone else in the two houses looked on at them in surprise, having gotten their brooms up on their first try.

"Up"

Not allowing himself to be outdone by the other two, Harry gave off a satisfied smirk of his own, as he found his broom was also now in his hand after he spoke to it, and felt it become a grin, as the Twin-Who-Lived's smirk disappeared, his house having been outdone by theirs at two-to-one.

And from his place in the spot beside his best friend, Blaise rolled his eyes.

Madam Hooch was not unlike Professor Snape in her ways and teaching methodology. She walked amongst them, letting them each do their own work, as she stood over them, staring intently, and correcting them only when absolutely necessary.

All of the Slytherin students were commended on their grip technique, with a small smile on her face, as though she were aware of Flint's short and impromptu lesson before she had arrived, as she demonstrated the correct way to mount a broom without falling off, before she set about correcting the Gryffindors on their own grips, and Harry was delighted to hear that Alex had been doing it wrong all his life.

"Now on my whistle, I want you to kick off from the ground hard, hover for a few seconds, and then lean forwards slightly, reach back over, and touch the ground. On my whistle now, three - two - one"

They each took a turn doing it, with Draco being the first to try. His form was excellent, as Madam Hooch told him so, and he took a moment to look smug before it was Alexander's turn. She went from side-to-side as she went down the line, gradually correcting each person and commenting on their technique. Harry, the last member of Slytherin House to go, was told that while his technique was solid, he looked too uncomfortable on a broom for her tastes.

It was an assessment he agreed with - if he was meant to fly, he'd grow wings - flying, or simply not being on solid ground in general, made him feel more out of his element than he was happy with.

Longbottom though, the last one to go, and the great lump of nerves that he apparently was, kicked off from the ground far harder than they were told to, and shot straight up into the air like a rocket, ignoring Madam Hooch's cries for him to stop, as he spiralled upwards, losing all control of the broom, and Harry couldn't supress his wince when the boy crashed into one of the walls of the castle, falling down, only to bounce slightly when his cloak snagged on one of the wall sconces, before it tore, and he dropped the rest of the way, a mass of black and grey hitting the ground with a sickening 'thud'.

They all moved towards him, some of them to check on him, and some of them simply out of curiosity more than concern for his welfare, and Harry noticed the grass twinkle beside him, even as the broomstick continued to float away on its own, making its way towards the Forbidden Forest.

With a threat of expulsion aimed to keep them all on the ground and off of their broomsticks, Madam Hooch whipped her wand out, and cast a charm, allowing her to levitate the semi-conscious boy behind her, as she moved him off towards the Hospital Wing.

Draco, as subtle as he ever was, decided that he just had to comment.

"Did you see his face? The great lump"

His comment had meant to mock and garner a few laughs, but only Crabbe and Goyle guffawed, while Pansy shrieked. The other Slytherins, he noticed, and even a few of the Gryffindors were grimacing, and Morag, who had moved closer to him when Madam Hooch had left them, was now nearly as pale as Neville was when he had been floated away.

Without moving enough to draw attention to himself, he slipped his left hand into hers, squeezing her fingers, which caused her to jump slightly, before she squeezed back lightly, dropping his hand, and he was glad to see at least some of the colour return to her cheeks, as he murmured to her.

"You alright?"

Instead of answering, she gave a noise that was probably supposed to be a word, but came out as a squeak, before nodding more vigorously, and then moving to stand closer to Millicent, her best friend, and away from the brooms, to a place where she could feel safer.

"Shut it Malfoy!"

Parvati's voice cut across to where Draco was now attempting to impress his solid trio of followers, by adding a few more insults onto his original one, and drew the attention of everyone else.

"Aww Patil", Pansy's voice was far too shrill for everyone else's liking, "didn't know you liked big, stupid, fat-"

"Ooh look, there's that useless thing Longbottom's gran sent him", Draco interrupted his female follower to snatch up a tiny, glittering gold ball from the grass nearby.

"Give it here Malfoy"

The leader of the lions pack stepped up to the Malfoy Heir, until they were stood almost nose to nose, with Alex's face set into a glare, while Malfoy's seemingly ever-present sneer was once again in place, before the blonde boy took a step backwards.

"You know, I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find", quickly he mounted his broom and casually kicked off, coming to float above their heads, "like maybe up a tree", he tossed the ball from hand to hand, and Harry was impressed with his control in the air, he certainly didn't feel that at home when he was on a broomstick - not that he'd ever admit to it, "come and get it then Potter, unless you're scared"

Well… that's certainly bold…

No… it's idiotic.

Let's not insult ourselves by pretending otherwise.

Spurred on by the challenge, Alex's face hardened as he immediately swung his leg over his broomstick, completely ignoring Granger's attempt to warn him off, before he shot straight up into the air

Stood together in a small huddle of their own, Blaise, Morag, Tracey, Daphne and Millicent all shot their own Potter a questioning look, as he huffed out a chuckle as his twin brother and Draco began to exchange words they couldn't hear, in the air.

"What?"

Harry looked at the small group of his own housemates that was now staring at him, flicking their eye between him and the duo in the air.

"Aren't you going to do something?"

"Like what?"

"Help… one of them?"

Millicent's voice trailed off, as she became more unsure of if she was answering his question, or asking one of her own, and he held back a small smile, as he moved his head to stare straight up at the two figures that were the two supposed rivals.

"Hmm… you know, I think I'm fine here thanks"

A few eyes widened in slight surprise, but their attention was taken completely away from him by Alex flying straight at Draco like a dart, before Draco, after releasing another taunt, threw the small golden ball with all his might, and Alex went racing across the pitch after it, flying flat out before diving to the floor, even as Draco quickly lowered himself back to the ground, smirking in the direction of the entrance.

Where Professor McGonagall was making a beeline for where Alex was heading.

"Finite Incantatem"

The others gathered around him all went wide-eyed once more, as he used the general counter-curse, and they whipped their heads around, just in time to catch a glimpse of the small golden ball before it faded from existence, the Gryffindor's hand closing over nothing, as Harry slipped his wand back into place in its holster.

"You didn't…"

He turned to face Tracey, who had asked the pseudo-question, and was apparently caught somewhere between shock and awe, and he sent her his best smile, "I think we all know I did"

"How?"

He looked her in the eyes, as he casually pulled the real remembrall from his left cloak pocket, earning him a few small chuckles that were quickly smothered, but began again when one of the Gryffindors pointed it out, as he rolled the small golden orb about in his palm, sharing a glance with Morag, whose eyebrows pulled together slightly, as he whispered the incantation for the third year charm that had been his goal to master over the last few days, devoting every inch of time he had to it, under the careful instruction of Lucan, "Geminio"

She giggled lightly, attempting to cover it with her hand, while the lions were too busy trying to shift the blame Alex had been given onto Draco, and the others looked on, feeling slightly lost in the conversation, and Harry just chuckled.

Sometimes, he just liked to leave them feeling confused.

It was at Thursday's dinner when he next had to see his brother, and a part of him was disappointed, completely unsurprised, but nonetheless disappointed that Madam Hooch hadn't followed up on her threat of expulsion and sent Alexander back to his parents on the train.

He crossed the Great Hall from the doorway, walking past the Hufflepuff table, down to where his brother was sat, and ignoring the table of yellow and black, he noticed how several of the scarlet-clad students sent him various looks, ranging from slight curiosity to outright disgust and distrust, before he reached his brother's spot, who puffed out his chest slightly as he got closer, in a vain attempt to look more impressive.

He stepped just past him, holding back the smirk at the frown Alexander now wore, as he was ignored, while Harry tapped the prefect he was looking for on the back twice, causing Percy Weasley to turn around, diverting his attention away from the book he was reading, and causing him to face him.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so", he pulled the remembrall from where he had been keeping it in his robes, and offered it to him, clenching his jaw tightly, so he wouldn't laugh at the look of outrage plastered on the face of his brother and the glare on the face of Weasley junior, "one of your First Years, a Mister Longbottom I believe, dropped this during our flying lesson earlier. Could you please see that he gets it back?"

His eyebrows scrunched together as he plucked the orb from his palm, and placed it inside of his own robes, "Of course I will, that's quite the noble gesture to make Mister err… I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've been introduced", he offered his hand, "Weasley, Percival Weasley, but most people call me Percy"

He took the larger hand in one of his own, and Harry shook it firmly, "Hadrian Potter, but please, call me Harry"

"Very well then Harry", the two of them released hands, and Percy gave him an approving onceover, "I shall ensure that Mister Longbottom receives his remembrall at the first opportunity I get, later this very evening"

"Thank you Percy"

"Not at all Harry"

The two of them nodded briefly, before Percy returned to his book, patting down his robes to check that the small golden orb was safe, before he picked his transfiguration book back up, allowing it to consume his attention once more. Harry spared enough time to send his brother and the small redhead a small wave, complete with smug smile, which was enough to rile them up without alerting the older prefect sat alongside them.

He gave a short spin on his heel, causing the edges of his cloak to flare out in a way he thought was cool, before he began making his way back to the top of the table, not noticing as the two other boys got up to follow behind him, content on his way back to his own table, as they drew behind him as they reached the top of the hall.

"Hey Potter!"

Draco's voice startled him, with a small shout from right in front of him as the blonde boy entered the hall, flanked by his usual two goons, with his eyes firmly looking over Harry's shoulder, and he span around to check, feeling startled, and annoyed, that Alexander had managed to get that close to him without him noticing.

Draco made the few steps to where Harry was, stopping to stand beside him, with an amused sneer aimed at Alex, while Ron was stood slightly behind him, looking for direction from the other boy.

"I thought you'd be on the train home by now, what's this? One last meal before you go, Potter?"

"You're a lot braver now that you've got your little friends behind you, aren't you Malfoy?"

Alex was aware that 'little' was not a word a normal person would use to describe Crabbe and Goyle junior, but the High Table was full of teachers eating their evening meal, including Professor Dumbledore, and the prefects were spread around the hall, so all they could do was try and look big while scowling at them.

"I could take you on my own anytime, anywhere, Potter"

"Oh yeah", Alex's lips moved into a confident smirk at Draco's challenge, his eyes narrowing, "how about tonight then, a duel at midnight?"

Draco's eyes narrowed in retaliation, his mind going over the challenge in complete detail, before he swallowed once, "Alright then, how about in the Trophy Room? Who's your second?"

"Ron, obviously", behind him, the redhead nodded, as he stepped closer to his friend, "who's yours?"

Draco span around slightly, turning to face his two followers, and ran his eyes over them both, trying to size them up against each other.

"Cr-"

"I am"

The sound of his own voice shocked him slightly, even as Draco's eyes widened slightly as he spoke, even as they shared a small nod, before standing, shoulder to shoulder, to face who were apparently going to be their duelling opponents for that night.

Weasley's glare flicked between the two of them, but mostly stayed with Draco, who continued to ignore the redheaded boy, while Alex looked torn between wanting to duel against Malfoy, and wanting to avoid fighting with his brother.

Ron made the decision for him, looping their arms together, before he pulled the other Potter twin out of the Great Hall, and towards the staircase, no doubt back on the way back to their house, with Alex pausing only to offer them a smug smile, "We'll see you tonight then"

And then they were gone.

Letting Crabbe and Goyle fall behind them, the two Slytherin First Years made their way towards their own housemates, and sat across from each other at the dinner table, where they couldn't ignore the others staring at them.

"So", Harry's voice broke the ice, and their eyes locked, as Draco set down pumpkin juice he'd been pouring himself, "would you mind telling me what I just agreed to?"

Draco's face betrayed his surprise for a second, and then he rolled his eyes.

Alex had spent the rest of their evening passing on some of the duelling tips his father had told him, onto Ron, little pearls of wisdom, such as 'always dodge where you can', and 'if you don't know how to shield, then don't', and it was at half past eleven that both boys slid out of their beds, pulling their dressing gowns on over their pyjamas, before they made their way down to the common room.

They were halfway to the portrait hole, when a lamp flicked on, and sitting there, with a scowl on her face, and wearing a pink dressing gown of her own, was Hermione Granger.

"What are you doing?" Ron's voice was confused for a moment, before it turned harsh, "Go back to bed"

"No. I heard what you said in the Great Hall, and you're going to get yourselves caught, and we'll lose all those house points Professor McGonagall gave me earlier for knowing about switching spells"

Both boys were certain they'd never before met someone so interfering, and that was saying something - they'd both grown up with their mothers - neither of which understood the idea of personal boundaries.

"Come on Ron, let's just go"

The two of them walked straight past her, around the armchair she'd been sitting in, and pushed open the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's disgruntled mutterings, as they stepped out onto the seventh floor.

"Don't either of you care about Gryffindor? I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup for the eight year in a row, but if you two get caught-"

"Go away"

If it was possible, Hermione's glare intensified, but Ron didn't bother looking at her, as she span around, and attempted to go to bed, only to realise the flaw in her plan.

The Fat Lady was gone.

She huffed to herself, before turning around again, and following the boys.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you"

"No you're not"

"Yes", Alex thought she sounded far too smug than she should have, given that she was now locked out of the common room, "I am"

"Ron, just-"

Alex was cut off, mid-sentence, as he fell over a lump on the carpet.

"Neville?"

He heard Hermione's question, even as he struggled to sit up from where he had landed on the floor, to find their (now) awake housemate lying on the floor, apparently having been released from his place in the Hospital Wing.

"Neville, don't take this the wrong way", Alex did his best to sound concerned, and thought he was managing it well, "but what are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't remember the password", the shy boy admitted, "so I thought if I waited here-"

"-someone would open to portrait hole for you", Alex finished for him, as the other boy nodded, and Alex noticed for the first time that he was still dressed in the same robes that he had worn for their flying lesson earlier.

"Alright Neville, the password's 'Pig Snout', but you'll have to wait for a while, the Fat Lady's gone for a walk, and speaking of going for a walk…"

"But-"

"Shh", Ron shushed him, glaring heavily, and Neville immediately stopped his wailing, looking terrified at the idea that he may have been overheard.

"Don't leave me behind!"

Neville whisper-yelled, while Hermione nodded in agreement with him, Ron shook his head furiously, and after a moment's deliberation Alex walked off, pulling Ron with him, and if the other two were going to follow them, then that was their choice.

He wasn't responsible for them.

At exactly quarter-past eleven, Harry and Draco rose from their seats in front of the main common room fireplace. Harry closed the copy of curses and counter-curses he was reading, as Draco dropped the exploding snap cards he had a hold of.

Around them, the other First Years dropped their cards as well, looking on as both of them pulled on their cloaks. Harry let his wand slide into his hand while everyone was distracted by the whirling material of the dragonhide, before Draco withdrew his own from his cloak pocket.

Harry recognised the material as Hawthorne, but knew nothing else about the makeup of the wand, even as he ran his eyes over the length of his own twelve inches of Yew. No blemishes of any sort, and he was happy to see that his stand was keeping it polished and protected, without the need for him to spend any time with a polishing rag, like he had seen Theo doing at the weekend.

The two of them said their goodbyes, before stepping out into the Dungeons, letting the wall seal behind them, and blocking out their housemates from view.

"So", he began conversationally, as they made their way towards the Entrance Hall, "do you remember the plan?"

"Of course", his blonde companion couldn't have sounded any more arrogant if he tried, "Potter - the other Potter - and I are going to duel"

"And if you can't cast any of the spells you haven't actually been taught yet?"

"You're going to set their robes on fire while we run"

"Well then", he turned to face his partner with a small grin, even as they took a moment to check that the Entrance Hall was empty, "let's not be late"

Draco offered him an amused smile of his own, as he made a sweeping gesture down the corridor, "By all means then, after you"

"STUDENTS! STUDENTS OUT OF BED! THEY'RE IN THE TROPHY ROOM!"

From the edge of the corridor, near the entrance to the Trophy Room, both boys seized up as Peeves' voice carried through the silence of the school.

They both felt their heartbeats hammering in their ears, before they heard the thudding of boots against the rug-covered stone floor.

Searching out for a target, he found a broom cupboard just ahead of them, and wasted no time in dragging Draco there. He wrenched open the door, shoving the other boy in, before he jumped in after him, and let his wand slide into his waiting palm, ignoring Draco's grumbling as the footsteps grew louder.

"Potter!" He whispered furiously, "We're going to get caught!"

"Colloportus"

He waved his wand in the box motion the spell required, and his incantation was rewarded with a small squelching noise, which meant that while he hadn't cast it perfectly, he needed to practice more before he got there, he had managed to magically seal the door.

"What was that?"

"Locking spell", even in the pitch black darkness, he could feel Draco's silent question, and added, "Standard Book of Spells, Grade One", before feeling slightly smug and added, "page eighty four I think"

Behind him, Draco made a noise that could've been either a grunt or a snort.

The footsteps got even closer, and Harry slid up to the edge of the door, where he could see out of the gap between the door and the frame, and watched as Mr Filch came down the corridor. He stopped in front of the broom cupboard they were hiding in, and he clamped his hand onto Draco's mouth, and held his breath, as the grumpy caretaker made his way to the door.

He pulled on the handle twice, before grumbling to himself, yanking once more, and then, still grumbling, he rushed off, looking to catch the students Peeves had been yelling about, which Harry was almost certain were Alexander and Weasley.

"Alohamora"

A quiet click signified the opening of the door, and both boys wasted no time in diving out. They remained there just long enough for Harry to seal the door behind them, not wanting Filch to realise he'd been duped, before they bolted, rushing back towards the stairs.

They moved as quickly and as quietly as they could, only pausing at the bottom of the First Floor staircase to check the Entrance Hall was clear, before giving one final dash into the Dungeons, the only place in the castle where Slytherins were known to be safe.

The two of them stopped rubbing at that point, using the walk back to the common room to catch their breath, appearances were, after all, everything in the house of snakes.

Catching eyes as they rounded the last corner, they found that they wore matching grins at the idea, and shared a few chuckles, even as Draco gave the wall the password, "Monkshood", and it folded away, granting them access to the Slytherin common room.

The chuckles continued as they stepped into the empty common room, where the only noise was the low crackling of the fire, and they both let out a small sigh of relief.

"Good morning gentlemen", both boys froze instantly, their breath caught in the throat, as they slowly turned inwards, rotating until they came face to face with the furious face of their Head of House, half-hidden in the shadow from the corner of the room, his beetle-black eyes threatening to eviscerate them both on the spot.

"Now what would two fine boys, such as yourselves", they both shivered lightly at his deceptively calm tone of voice, as he stepped forward to loom over them, "be doing out of the dormitories so early in the morning?"

They both swallowed.

The four of them had entered the Trophy Room expecting to find Harry - Hadrian - and Draco waiting for them, so that they could get their duel over with, so that, when he and Ron were victorious, showing the slimy snakes that Gryffindors were the best, they could go back to bed, before being praised as heroes in the morning by the rest of their house.

They would have been fine too, except that when they got there, there was no Hadrian and Draco waiting for them.

But there was Peeves.

"Ooh", his voice was filled with joy, which caused everyone's breathing to pick up, "look at the ickle Firsties, out of bed. Oh what's Peevesy to do?"

"Peeves", Alex whispered, "please-"

"Tut, tut, tut", the poltergeist cackled madly, "naughty, naughty bad ickle Firsties shouldn't-"

"Shut up Peeves", Ron barely managed to contain a yell, swiping at Peeves, which proved to be a mistake.

The renowned menace sent them a small wink, which finally allowed them to rest slightly, even as he leant his head back.

"STUDENTS! STUDENTS OUT OF BED! IN THE TROPHY ROOM!"

Panic filled their veins, causing all of them to seize up in fear, as the shouting reverberated around the room, filling the corridor, and stretching out, reaching out to the entire floor.

The four of them stood completely still, until the sound of heavy footsteps reached their ears, mixing with Peeves' cackling laughter, and regaining his senses first, Alex ran out of the trophy room, with the other three hot on his heels, ignoring the footsteps that were heading their way, he flung himself onto the staircase, even as it began to move.

The other three were quick to pile on after him, as the staircase came to a stop, and reaching the next platform, Alex wasted no time in pushing the door at the top open, almost smashing into the door as it refused to open.

"Crap", he whispered, covered with worry, before Hermione barged past him, pulling her wand out of her nightgown, as she moved it in a reverse 'S' motion, whisper-yelling, "Alohamora"

The was a loud 'click', before the door swung open, and the four of them fell inside, swinging the door shut behind them, as Alex shoved everyone behind him, pressing his ear to the door, listening out hard, for the sound of any pursuers, even as Neville whimpered from behind him.

"Guys-"

"Shush Neville"

"Alex-"

"Be quiet Nev"

"Guys-"

Whirling around on their not-silent companion, determined to silence him, all three of them felt their words die in their throat, at the sight of the dog opening its mouth to yawn, waking from its slumber. The stench of the animal's foul breathe assaulted their nostrils before they realised just what the problem was.

One dog.

Three heads.

The jaws snapped open and shut as the cerberus woke from its slumber, sniffing heavily, before three pairs of drowsy eyes slid open, scanning over them, and then snapping awake.

They screamed.

Scrambling for the door, Alex threw it open and then threw himself out, waiting for the others to follow behind him. Ron ran into him in his escape attempt, while Hermione came out as the next one, with Neville, still screaming in terror, was the last one, slamming the door shut behind him.

The four of them piled back against the door, combining their strength to pull it shut, while the dog attempted to rip it open from the other side. Neville's screams had become whimpers as he hung on with them, determined not to let the three-headed dog escape.

"Ciero!"

With a faint hiss, caused from the strain of the weight against the door, the door sealed itself shut behind them, and the barking magically quietened, dropping until they were no longer able to hear it.

The quartet of First Years slumped slightly, all of them exhaling in tandem, as their shoulders slumped in exhaustion as their adrenaline wore off, before, moving as a group, they snapped up, alert and afraid.

Who cast that spell?

Still moving as a group, the four of them looked up, and staring down at them with a solid frown, which only served to give credence to the reputation of his well-known, teacher-abiding, rule-following attitude, was Percy Weasley.