Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

Author's Note: Thanks to Tombadgerlock, Sinkingboat, pstibbons, Allen Pitt, mike, Wonderbee31, dm, Dernhelm-caorann, The War General, Dreamweaver, Saetan, fooboo27, Nights Silhouette, Belladonna16, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, harryginny01, Bobboky, Jarvey, Dream's Abyss, Yasmine Lupin, amanda, jw, yojorocks, momocolady and moonlit dew for reviewing.

So, a couple of people have been discussing pairings. Like JKR, I'm not going to be introducing romance for Harry for the next couple of books. He is only 11 after all. But there are all manner of possibilities for who he could end up with. The picture Harry sent Hermione, as most of my lovely reviewers pointed out, is going to be pretty instrumental for the Wizarding World finding Harry, but only if certain people see it - most witches and wizards have no idea of what Harry Potter looks like. Oh also well done to everyone who spotted my coughdeliberatecough mistake. In my AN for last chapter I said that Hermione didn't know Harry's last name, but at the end of the chapter when Harry got a letter from her, the envelope said "Harry Potter" by mistake. So I've edited that now to just say "Harry". It's really nice to know that some of you pay attention so closely to notice that when even I didn't.

The Watcher's Apprentice

Chapter Ten: Second Casualty

In contrast to the last couple of days, Harry's third day of school was sunny and bright. This was lucky as it was their first PE lesson, and otherwise they would have been stuck inside doing theory, something which Harry was certain would be extremely boring.

As it was, the class was outside, playing a makeshift game of football. Harry, who understood the rules but had never played in his life, was being more of a hindrance than a help to his team, which nonetheless was winning seven two. As the ball passed him once again, he watched it curiously, not even attempting to kick it, as Olivia Nelson gave it a delicate pat with the sole of her pink trainer, and then complained that mud had ruined her new shoes.

"I don't even see why we have to play this stupid game anyway," she whined to her friends, making sure everyone could hear her. "It's not ladylike at all!" Her friends all nodded in agreement.

"In that case, I'm sure it will suit you very well," said Dimitrie, who was passing as he huffed and puffed his way up the pitch.

"Now, now," said the teacher, who had not heard Dimitrie's cutting comment. "Err…"

"Olivia," scowled Olivia.

"Olivia, women's soccer is a very well respected sport. Why don't you just give it a try, eh?" he asked, he glanced down at Olivia's 'soiled' shoe. "And, er, it might be better if you wore some white trainers you're not so attached to next time."

Olivia's whole demeanour changed. "Okay," she smiled. Harry couldn't help but feel she must have some sort of ulterior motive. "I'll do that next time, so I'm sure you won't mind if I go inside and sit out for the rest of the lesson?" There it was, thought Harry.

She had voiced it as a question, but Olivia didn't wait for an answer before she flounced off towards the school building. The teacher gaped after her, but seemed to decide it wasn't worth bothering with to go after her. He did stop her entourage from following though, who had decided that as her friends, it was all of their responsibility to go and look after her.

By the end of the lesson, everyone was covered in mud, as the ground was still exceedingly wet and slippery from the rain the day before.

"It is amazing," said Dimitrie, as they walked back to the changing rooms, "that Olivia's friends have managed to stay remarkably clean."

Harry twisted around to take a look. Sure enough, although they were complaining louder than anyone, their PE kits had hardly a trace of mud on.

"That would be because they spent the whole time whining and not doing," said Antony. Again, Harry was surprised by the boy's observation skills. Harry considered himself to be observant, but he had been too concentrated on what he was doing rather than how the girls were acting. Or maybe Antony was just nosey.

0o0o0o0

Harry and his friends were walking to Geography after PE, when Stephen, who had stopped off to grab a drink of water, came running up to them.

"Guys!" he said urgently. "You'll never believe what's happened!"

"Tell us then," said Dimitrie.

"Apparently Olivia Nelson hung herself in the Drama Studio!"

Harry's eyes bugged. "Oh my God!" He exchanged a look with Antony, who seemed to be just as affected.

"She never will have, we can but hope," said Dimitrie cynically.

"I'm not joking!" cried Stephen. "All the teachers are gathered around there and no-one's allowed in!"

Right on cue a police siren sounded and they could see flashing lights drive into the school playground.

"My prayers have been answered!" said Dimitrie, sounding happy for the first time Harry had known him.

The three other boys gaped at him.

"You cannot be serious?!" said Stephen. "Yeah, she was annoying, but you can't have seriously wanted her dead!"

Dimitrie just shrugged and walked away, leaving the other three boys to ponder over his terrible behaviour.

"She must have done something really bad to him," said Harry by way of a possible explanation, "for him to want her dead."

Antony looked at him worriedly.

"Yeah, really bad," said Stephen.

The entire student body had been sent home early due to Olivia's suicide. By the next day, the school had sent home letters informing parents what had gone on.

"Soon they'll have a standard letter for this kind of thing, with 'insert name here' on it," joked Dimitrie, while the others looked on in alarm.

0o0o0o0

The drama of the last couple of days had delayed Harry writing to Hermione, though when he finally did he made certain to include everything that had happened. He was certain now that she had made the right choice in going to Hogwarts. After all, she was smart – very smart – and there was no way she would have been able to concentrate fully on her studies with all this going on. But then again, Harry thought, boarding all the way up in Scotland can't have been that settling either. As asked, Harry included a photo of himself. It was an old one, of him and Giles, and looking at it made Harry miss the man even more.

As told to, Harry went round to the Grangers' to drop off his letter. They happened to be entertaining one of the other neighbours as he and Katherine popped round (Katherine had decided that it had been too long since she had last talked to the Grangers) and the awkwardness could be cut with a knife, though the ever-sensible Grangers ignored it admirably. Harry and Katherine made as quick an exit as possible without being rude, though they were unable to turn down the Grangers' offer of joining them for a "last barbeque of the year" party the next weekend. Katherine groaned when they got back home.

"James is going to kill me," she moaned. "There's no way he'll be able to skip it, and those types of things are always super boring. Plus there always ends up being some young snob with her eye on him throughout."

"What have you done?" asked James with a smile as he made his way into the hall after hearing her moaning voice.

"Forgive me, almighty one!" Katherine cried, throwing her hands up and bowing at the waist.

Harry couldn't resist a giggle and explained what had happened.

"Katherine?" said James in a false polite voice. Katherine looked up hopefully. "You suck."

0o0o0o0

Olivia's suicide had made Harry more determined than ever to find out what was going on with that drama studio. He decided to enlist the help of Antony, who Harry thought would probably be the most useful of his friends – Dimitrie would hardly want to and Stephen never seemed to have anything particularly valuable to say. Harry managed to speak to Antony alone on the Friday after the death.

"I have a question," said Harry, sitting down next to Antony at lunch.

"Ask away," said the other boy, waving an apple about.

"Will you help me investigate something?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" said Antony. "I have loads of ideas about what's in that drama room, though I hope none of them are true."

Harry's eyes bugged. "W-What?" he said, astonished. "How did you know?" Harry paused. "How come you always seem to notice so much, anyway?"

"I look." said Antony cryptically. Harry was beginning to suspect Antony was definitely more than he seemed. "Now, here's how we can find out some stuff…"

Harry leaned in. He had no idea how Antony had all this knowledge, but he wasn't about to ignore it just because of that. It was time to get planning, and to get to the bottom of things.

0o0o0o0

"Remember," said Harry, as Katherine dropped him off at school the next day, "I'm staying a bit late to do some studying."

"Oh, yeah," said Katherine, who'd completely forgotten. "I'll be here from five."

Harry thanked her and left the car, heading towards Antony who was waiting by the main gates.

"Have you got everything?" the boy asked him.

"Yeah," said Harry. "You?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" asked Harry. He was having doubts. Investigating was one thing, but having slept on it, he thought Antony's plan was going a bit far.

"Trust me," said Antony. And Harry did.

0o0o0o0

The day dribbled by at a snail's pace, and if it weren't for the hope of something exciting happening in the near future, Harry thought he might die of boredom. His other friends seemed alright – Stephen was as normal as ever, Dimitrie looked angry and Antony was his usual mysterious self – but Harry definitely thought school wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

By three fifteen, everyone was rushing home, eager to be free, but Harry and Antony crept around the back buildings. The drama room was out of bounds, even though the police had already left knowing it was a straightforward suicide. The doors opened silently as they entered, and the whole school was eerily silent.

"Where are all the teachers?" Harry whispered.

Antony looked at him. "Good point." He whispered back. "Well they're not here anyway."

Harry shrugged and led the way over to the corner.

"That's where I felt something too," said Antony.

"The wall here is hollow," explained Harry. "That's what I was looking at a few weeks ago when you caught me."

They got to work, using a small hammer to knock away at the flaky plaster.

"Why are we whispering?" asked Harry. The noise from the hammer was enough to get them noticed if anyone walked by.

Antony shrugged. "You started it," he said returning to normal voice.

"Sssssh!" said Harry quickly. He thought he heard something.

"What?" asked Antony. "You were just wondering why we were whispering." Antony knocked the wall in again.

"Stoppit!" whispered Harry urgently, grabbing the other boy's wrist. He had definitely heard something that time. Something he didn't like at all.

"Something's in pain," said Harry. "And lots of it. Can't you hear it?"

The moaning and crying was getting louder now. So loud Harry could hardly make out what Antony was replying with.

"No." said the boy. "There's nothing. It's just us. Come on." He gestured to the wall. A small hole had appeared. Harry ignored the crying – it had got quieter now anyway, though it was strange that Antony hadn't heard it.

Slowly they enlarged the hole, until it was about half the size of the hollow bit. Harry, being the smaller of the two boys, peered inside with a torch. What he saw made his stomach turn.

"Antony," he whispered. "There's a body in here." The clothes that lingered on the rotting flesh were remnants of a school uniform, though it wasn't the same as what they wore now.

"That's not surprising," said the other boy. "Though it is rather sad."

Harry was shocked. "Rather sad?" he said surprised. "It's a bit more than rather sad. And how come it's not surprising?"

"Well there was obviously some kind of malevolent spirit in here. The fact that it's a dead person is pretty much irrelevant."

Harry gathered himself together. "But it's a student-"

"Correction," interrupted Antony. "It was a student." He held up a hand. "I'm as sorry for the guy – or girl – as the next person, but we have to move on."

"But what are we gonna do?" asked Harry. "We have to go to the police! This isn't like seeing a dead body in the street – our fingerprints and stuff are going to be all over this wall!"

"Harry," said Antony slowly. "Calm down. How many students are in this school? Plus there're the teachers. Just think how many people will have touched this wall."

Harry realised what Antony said was true.

"Hold this," said Antony, handing Harry a small plastic bag of crushed leaves. Harry took them, perplexed. "We need to do an exorcism."

"Right…" said Harry. He definitely wasn't sure about this any more. He trusted Antony, yes, but knocking down walls and doing black magic was a bit too much.

"Not scared, are you?" mocked Antony, noticing Harry's hesitance.

"No!" said Harry hurriedly. After all, he was a wizard himself, and was definitely not evil.

"Ok then," said Antony with a slight smile. "As I speak, get out the other stuff from my bag and set them on fire. There're some matches in there too." During their conversation he had got an old battered book out of his bag. Now he began to recite in a language Harry thought was probably Latin due to its similarity to the Spanish he had been learning with James.

Harry hurriedly carried out Antony's instructions. Somehow, a wind was picking up in the studio, causing the book's pages to fly about as Antony continued to read haltingly. The leaves and other strange ingredients started to fly about, and Harry had several false starts with the matches before he managed to get one lit for long enough to set the other things alight. The moaning and crying from earlier was back now, full force, and from the wincing expression on Antony's face, Harry knew the other boy could hear it this time. Louder and louder it got until Antony was shouting above the din and the roar of the flames.

The flames burnt themselves out, but in their place was something different. It was a boy – a few years older than them – curled up on the floor, sobbing.

Harry and Antony looked at each other – what were they going to do now?