This chapter has been checked over for my usual errors. Grammar/spelling/typos by my beta the brilliant Claira. So All thanks to her for being able to view my work without all the horrible mistakes I make :)

Chapter Fourteen: Death's Messenger

"Harry!"

Not now... Harry inwardly muttered, intent on getting something hot to eat for breakfast and not liking his chances of that if his bossy friend had her say. Oh sure, she'd let him eat but she'd be nagging him while he was trying. He decided to play deaf and had just gotten inside the Great hall when—

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

The aforementioned boy winced and halted his steps as his name echoed across the corridor and into the large Great hall, heralding the arrival of an irate Hermione Granger. Almost timidly, Harry turned to watch the girl approach as her clipped, purposeful stride carried her toward him in an angry haste.

Once she stopped in front of him, she folded her arms roughly across her chest, with that pinched expression McGonagall was so very fond of.

"I was waiting for you to come down stairs," the bushy haired girl began in a carefully patient voice, "and imagine my surprise when Ron tells me you weren't in your room. Did you forget that we needed to have this little talk? Where were you?"

"But Hermione..."

"No 'Buts' Harry!" She growled, her patience no longer existent. "You're avoiding this conversation."

"I'm not avoiding anything," the boy denied. "I want breakfast. Then we can talk."

Hermione's expression darkened and she opened her mouth just about to speak when some Ravenclaw girl burst into the hall, causing everyone to stare at her frantic expression and gasps.

Harry wasn't able to recall a name, but he vaguely remembered her as being a friend of Cho Chang's and that it had been her who had snitched on the D.A group the previous year to Umbridge. He held no warm feelings for her.

With an indifferent sort of curiosity, Harry watched as the girl ran up to the head table and began some tearful diatribe that had the teachers nearby Dumbledore leaning in to listen intently. Then the staff members began to converse quietly amongst themselves for a few moments more.

The headmaster nodded once, then he and Flitwick stood and followed the still pathetically tearful girl from the room. None of the three glanced once in Harry's direction.

"I wonder what that was about," Ron asked with a puzzled expression. "Wasn't she Cho's best mate?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, absently as his eyes scanned the Ravenclaw table for the glossy obsidian locks and Cho's pretty face, but wasn't able to find her anywhere amongst her fellow house mates. He frowned.

Strange.

Ron saw the expression immediately. "You don't still... fancy her, do you?"

"No," the Nikolai replied, instantly. He turned to his red-headed friend. "Why would you think that?"

"You had that look on your face when you used to think about her," Hermione added as she slid in next to Harry at their table, sitting opposite Ron. The look she offered the Angelus informed him she hadn't forgotten about their discussion but was willing to let it slid. For the moment. "But it also held concern."

"I don't fancy her," Harry confirmed, knowing it was absolutely true.

Hermione already seemed to agree with him on that and gave him a knowing look. One Harry didn't particularly care to think about, or consider the reason behind it. He turned away and set about covering his toast in a thick layer of cherry jam.

"I really hope not, Harry," Ron muttered, his mouth still half full of egg.

"Ron that's disgusting!" Hermione exclaimed, her nose twisting in revulsion. "Don't talk with your mouth full and chew before you swallow!"

Snickering quietly to himself, Harry internally grinned at his best friends before his expression darkened as he again caught the scent of Lavender's damn perfume on Ron. He was a little surprised Hermione hadn't smelt it yet, as it wasn't like the perfume was weak...

Actually, now that he thought about it, Hermione probably couldn't smell Lavender's perfume on Ron because her own was also, really quite strong.

Considering that, Harry took a careful bite from his jam-covered toast and chewed thoughtfully as he eyed both his best friends before his gaze inadvertently drifted towards the Slytherin table, where his eyes immediately met Draco's grey ones. It wasn't abnormal or anything. Even before the two had become friends, their gazes seemed naturally drawn to the other, of course not quite as often as it was these days.

He allowed his eyes to wander further until they settled on Pan, to find the snowy-haired boy slaughtering his sausages. The Angelus' lip quirked up in amusement.

"Harry?"

Turning to his friend, the boy slowly chewed his mouthful and swallowed. "Mm?"

Hermione looked more than a little uneasy. "We really..."

Dumbledore appeared then, followed once again by Flitwick.

Cho's friend was nowhere to be seen—not that Harry cared for her at all—but still, it was a rather curious thing. He wondered if Cho was injured or something. Harry dislodged the thought easily from his mind. He really didn't care after all.

"We will be having a half day today," the headmaster announced, causing many happy murmurings to start amongst the students seated. "You will continue to your first classes as usual but have free time after lunch."

"Damn it," Seamus cursed, as he stabbed viciously at his eggs. "We still have potions."

"It was inevitable," Harry muttered darkly.

Ron, who was in perfect agreement with Harry nodded his head. "If it had been a Friday when we have potions last, it would be guaranteed that we had the second half of our classes."

"Someone up there hates us," Dean muttered.

Ginny, who was seated at Dean's side, patted his hand in sympathy.

"Harry come on," Hermione announced, once the Nikolai had finished his toast and hot chocolate. "I need to visit the library and you can help me carry some of the books."

"But—"

The look Hermione fixed on him, had Harry knowing there was no way he was escaping her now. That it was in his best interests just to go along with her or else risk the possibility of injury by hex.

"All right," Harry sighed. Standing slowly he slipped his satchel back over his shoulder. "Ron we'll see you in class."

The redhead glanced up curiously between his two friends, nodded once and continued on with his breakfast. Harry felt mildly disappointed. He had hoped Ron would at least offered to come with them.

With another sigh, Harry trailed Hermione from the Great hall and down to the library, just as she had said.

"Harry this isn't safe anymore," the girl began, after casting some type of sound scrambling ward. "I'm not sure how long this has been going on or even how it started but it isn't safe anymore. I can't let you continue alone."

The Angelus stared at his friend in total confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Malfoy, Harry," Hermione said in exasperation. "This thing between you two. How can you both be on such good terms now? I admit I found it all very strange to begin with, even after finding out about the Nikolai's connection to the Malfoys."

Immediately, Harry stiffened. What did she know?

She can't know about our connection... There is no way she could. Harry chastised himself mentally. Of course she can, she's Hermione and she had been reading that book on damned Blood bonds.

"What connection?"

Hermione gave the Nikolai a penetrating stare before she sighed, somewhat deflated. "This can't continue," she said again, almost pleading this time. "I'm not the only one who is going to figure this out. The other day I over heard two boys speaking about you the other day. More specifically, they were talking about how Malfoy seemed to be going soft on you."

Harry opened his mouth to answer and almost choked, "What—"

His friend silenced him with a shake of her head. "Just listen, all right? I've been watching you two closely and it is fairly obvious that there is something going on between you. I can't tell exactly what it is... Is he your–" She stopped herself suddenly, studying Harry then she shook her head, as though trying to dislodge something. "And then there's Pan."

Harry blinked, again totally thrown. "What?"

"Pan, I know he comes into this mess somewhere. Give me more credit then that, Harry," Hermione replied, sounding a little miffed. "He knew you from before school starts and then I swear he almost called you by your real last name. His references to you as his Prince also struck as something more than just an endearment."

The Nikolai heir's head was spinning as he absorbed all the information the girl had thrown at him. He knew she was far too smart for her own good. It was evident now in how she had somehow puzzled that much out. His eyes narrowed as he listened to the rest of what Hermione had to say.

"It wasn't too hard finding information on the Nikolais, either," the book-worm continued, her voice gathering speed as her enthusiasm grew. "They were a well known Pureblood Russian family. One of the very few families that never interfered in any of the wars both muggle and wizard. At least, never openly... and then they all vanished one day. Apparently slaughtered by a rival family."

Hermione's eyes rose then, to stare evenly back as Harry, as though waiting for him to either deny or confirm her words, but he remained silent. Instead, he peered back at his long time friend, his features schooled in complete insouciance, though his mind was running wild with questions he wanted answered.

He had never thought to look up his family in general, now though he was really wishing he had. Obviously he'd left too much up to assumption when handing over his own books to Hermione.

"And then your books stated how the Angelus Royal family had gone into hiding around the exact same time the Nikolais seemed to vanish from the face of the earth. It was far too coincidental," Hermione said, more to herself now than Harry. "I decided to investigate it further and was able to discover that several more families were wiped out not long after. It was claimed that they were the families involved with the destruction of the Nikolai line and guess who led the hunt to avenge the Nikolais?"

Harry wasn't sure but he had a fair idea. Especially with the knowing spark that lit Hermione's dark-brown eyes.

"Lucien Malfoy," Hermione intoned with a flourish of her hand. "Who was supported by a Silvain Torrez. There were others, obviously. But I thought those names in particular would mean more to you."

For seemingly endless moments, Harry said nothing. Just sat against his chosen desk across from his friend with a indifferent expression and a cool, penetrating stare.

Inside his mind though, was quite a different story. All turbulent emotions and conflicting thoughts. But all pointed out one prominent thing. Hermione had figured out that the Nikolais were the Angelus Royalty and that they were tied with the Malfoys and Torrezs in someway or another. That was probably where her 'blood-bond' books came into play.

He really wasn't sure what he could do. No one outside the circle of both clans was meant to know. Not even Dumbledore knew about that. His Aunt had pointed out that she regarded his friends highly, but was it high enough to allow Hermione such knowledge?

He hoped so. He really did.

Hermione had always been the one to stand by him. Even in Fourth year when it seemed everyone else was willing to think the worst, she was there to support him. He also knew that while Hermione was curious about him and his clan, the reason she had even bothered researching all this herself was because she had been worried about him. And now because of him, she had forfeited her own life.

It just didn't seem right that she may have to die. He couldn't obliterate her. Didn't know how and doubted she'd be given such a chance by Draco, who'd likely be more inclined to snapping her neck.

Harry knew there was only one possible hope of fixing this. He was going to have to tell his Aunty and Uncle. Only they could decide what was to happen and Harry just prayed that they would be lenient and grant her mercy as well.

"You've no idea what you've just done..." Harry whispered, morosely.

"I've probably just gone and brought about the wrath of a very powerful King down upon my head," Hermione replied somewhat mordantly, despite Harry's words being a statement. Her features softened after the terse reply and she gave a tiny smile."I'm quite aware of what I've gone and done, Harry."

"Then why did you do it?" The Angelus asked, his temper rising due to the confusion. If Hermione knew what could happen, why on earth would she go ahead and do something so damn reckless? She would have been safe if only she hadn't told him of her discovery. Why had she done it?

The girl strode confidently over to the unsettled boy and stopped before him, not wavering at all before she reached out and took his hand in her own. She gave the appendage a comforting pat.

"So you know you're not alone in this. Whatever it is. I don't want a repeat of what happened last year. Or you feeling isolated from everyone else because of what's happened," she said seriously. "I know that until now you couldn't tell me certain things—like this this," she made an all encompassing gesture. "That maybe Pan or Malfoy, perhaps both have been assisting you, since their families supposedly supported yours generations ago..." The girl hesitated a moment. "They don't... You didn't tell them about-?"

Harry shook his head, knowing that Hermione was talking about both the prophecy and his mission to locate and destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes. This prompted his friend to nod.

"I wasn't sure how much they know."

"They know very little," Harry murmured and slumped down on his desk. "How long have you known about...me?" He asked, warily.

"I've had my suspicions for a while now. Although it wasn't until recently that I was able to work out the truth," she replied calmly. "I haven't told anyone else."

Harry nodded, allowing his head to loll back as his eyes slid closed. He exhaled slowly as exhaustion seemed to fill him. "You can't tell anyone else," he intoned, quietly. "Not even Dumbledore is aware of my status. Although, I'm not sure how long it will stay that way."

The Angelus opened his eyes and glanced over at Hermione, catching the end of her dubious look.

"Even Dumbledore doesn't know?"

"No," Harry confirmed, dragging a hand back through his hair. "He knew as much as both Ron and you. My Uncle didn't tell him anything else."

Hermione nodded, though was biting her lip in contemplation. It looked like she was dying to ask a question but wasn't sure how to ask it. Or perhaps she was just unsure of how Harry would receive it.

"Ask away," the Nikolai heir sighed wearily and stood from his desk, stretching his back as he did so. "I know you want to."

Still, the Gryffindor girl seemed a little apprehensive in her curiosity. That in itself made Harry rather uneasy. But after a pregnant pause, Hermione's inquisitiveness got the better of her and she finally caved to it's demands.

"How exactly do both Malfoy and Pan fit into the picture?"

Biting his lip, again Harry found himself speechless and considered ignoring the question altogether. He couldn't betray Draco or Pan's secret but he wasn't sure keeping things to himself was good, considering the still potentially disastrous conversation he needed to have with his family over Hermione's recent discovery.

"They've been helping me," the Angelus returned. "They're... guides, of a sort. Like you said. Malfoy knows all about politics. Different Pureblood etiquette that I can't learn from my family at the moment, " Harry said, speaking mostly truthfully. "In Pan's case, he's my self-appointed body guard."

Harry watched as Hermione digested that and began to mull the words over in her head. He felt more than a little surprised that she hadn't caught on to his half-truths and incomplete answers. But he was more than happy to accept whatever good luck that had prevented the usually sharp girl from seeing through him as she usually did.

"Pureblood etiquette?" Hermione questioned, then shook her head. Apparently already beginning to speculate on a new theory. Though Harry wasn't privy to it.

The shrill screech of the school bell went, announcing the standard five minute period until class was to begin, startling both occupants of the now quiet room.

"Is your curiosity quite sated now?" Harry asked, haughtily trying to make light of their previously serious conversation.

Hermione blinked once, then shook her head as a tiny smile slowly spreading across her face. "For the moment," she conceded, then set about removing the wardings around them.

Harry nodded, still rather unsure himself about where they were up to.

"I don't particularly like not knowing exactly how this truce between you and Malfoy formed," the bushy-haired girl stated after a few moments of silence. She turned to Harry. "I can only assume it has something to do with past good relations between your families and while I don't particularly agree with friendships of that sort, I'll accept your judgement of him for the time being." Then, she shot Harry a warning look. "Just be careful. I don't want to see you hurt."

Feeling like a large weight had been lifted from his shoulders, Harry smiled lazily back at his friend.

"I'm fairly sure I can handle Malfoy, Hermione," the Nikolai heir voiced, confidently.

Hermione sighed and gave him a shrewd, calculating look. "There are some things even you can't protect yourself from, Harry," she said, sagaciously. Only the last few room wards left over to be removed. "Just remember that."

He nodded.

"Oh, by the way," Hermione started, as her and Harry exited the library together, both carrying a few books the bush-haired girl had selected. "Tell Malfoy I think his scarf looks better on you. It brings out the colour of your eyes."

--xXx--

The loud, piercing sound of the bell resounded throughout the class, signalling it's end. It was a godsend to the lion pride, who had already lost 37 house points. Courtesy the greasy git and his loathing of all things Gryffindor.

"I want a four-foot essay on this type of memory restorative potion, the differences between it and the other types available. The effectiveness and all the known negative effects that have been recorded through history. This is to be on my desk by Monday. No later.

"You are dismissed."

All the students hurriedly returned their school things to their bags and began scurrying from the room. Harry, was one of the last to go but caught the brief grin Draco flashed him before the blonde slipped from the room.

"Mr Torrez, if you'll remain behind for a moment?"

Curiously, Harry watched the snowy-haired Invidian approach the teacher's desk but didn't bother sticking around to hear their conversation. Blaise was still packing up his cauldron as Harry exited the dank old room.

Once all three friends were outside the classroom, Ron immediately began complaining. "Can you believe that bastar—"

"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded, sending a glare the red-head's way. "What have I told you about the use of your language?"

The boy just rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.

The girl's anger piqued and she asked, in a deadly calm voice that reminded Harry a great deal of both Lucius and Snape when furious; "What was that, Ronald?"

Despite himself, Harry snickered at his companions. His problem with Hermione and Ron may be simpler to fix than he previously thought. All he needed to do was give a good shove in the right direction.

"Potter," a female voice hissed.

The Angelus turned sharply, easily locating the owner of the voice standing within a set of shadows of an alcove.

It was Pansy Parkinson.

Her dark, sleek hair falling about her hard face which was twisted with distaste, making her already pert nose more pronounced. She didn't look exactly happy with the current situation but she had to want to speak with him for a reason. Harry was almost fairly certain what this reason revolved around.

He sighed heavily and with much frustration. Was it confront Harry for the truth day or something? The Nikolai didn't particularly feel too inclined to speak with the Slytherin girl. She'd never been nice to him, in fact, generally she was a grade A bitch to him and all of his friends.

The Gryffindor boy frowned a moment. Excluding recently, of course, he mused. But then, pretty much all the Slytherins had been treading somewhat lightly around him as of late. Harry suspected it was the influence of both Draco and Pan.

"Hey guys," Harry called out to his still bickering friends who were a little down the hall from him and the still hidden Pansy. "Go on without me," he tried waving them both off.

"What about you?" Ron asked, with a frown.

" I just forgot something," Harry replied, vaguely and hitched his book-bag higher on his shoulder. "Go ahead without me. I'll catch up in a few seconds."

Hermione, Harry observed, was deliberately eying the shadowed alcove just behind him. Then she gave him a pointed look before reaching over to seize the red-head's wrist in a vice-like grip. "Come along Ron." With a dark amusement, Harry watched as Ron was led away like a lamb by the skilful Gryffindor girl.

After confirming that his friends were indeed gone, Harry turned to the still hidden Slytherin girl.

"Parkinson," he intoned, politely. "What can I do for you?"

She sneered a bit, then seemed to check herself. "I'm here about Draco," she drawled out.

"Of course you are," Harry said and crossed his arms over his chest. Briefly, he glanced further down the hall to ensure no one else was coming their way. But it was still clear.

Pansy sniffed.

"What we are to speak is to remain between us," she said, studying her manicured nails, "Draco isn't to hear a thing."

"Why in the world would I tell Malfoy anything?" Harry asked, sounding confused and looking perfectly perplexed. He knew that if the wrong people figured out he and Draco were friends that they would be screwed and that Draco could possibly be expecting assassination attempts from his own house members.

The thought made something churn horribly within Harry's stomach.

He shoved the feeling a side as he focused on Pansy. At least he knew he could kill her without guilt should the need arise.

"Oh please, Potter," Pansy drawled, appearing mildly amused now and a little impressed. "You're a good actor, I'll give you that, at least."

"Here to talk about my acting skills then, are we?"

"Definitely spending too much time with Draco," Pansy muttered to herself, but Harry heard each word clearly. "No," she said, raising her voice to normal level. "I'm not here to speak about your acting skills, I'm here to warn you."

"Oh, a threat?" Harry smiled darkly. Delighting in the way the Slytherin girl actually shrunk back a bit from him. Though not completely and she hardly appeared defenceless. More like a cornered panther.

For a moment the Slytherin studied him, her dark eyes calculating. "Don't you dare hurt him." She warned, lowly. "If you do, I'll skin you alive. And that's nothing to what some of the others will do."

The smile Harry wore slid from his face as he studied the girl before him. He didn't like her at all, but she felt sincere in her words. Still, he wasn't willing to be baited into a conversation that he knew she was trying to pull from him. Well, not until he confirmed a few things, but first, he'd continue with her little game.

"Parkinson," Harry started slowly, "I think you're a little confused. Unless of course, you're telling me to take whatever Malfoy throws at me? But then we both know I'm not the type of person to back down often. If he hexes me, I hex him."

"Oh cut the crap, Potter," Pansy snapped irritably. Losing her façade of all cool and impassive. "Everyone's noticed how he's changed. He's honestly content now. Far happier than I've ever seen him and I like seeing Draco happy. He deserves it after what you put him and his family through!"

Harry decided he didn't want to travel down that particular path and so stuck with the 'not knowing a thing' story. "And his happiness pertains to me, how?"

The Slytherin let out a frustrated growl. "You can play innocent all you want, but you aren't fooling me. I know Draco far too well to not know what it is that's effecting him in this way. Even if he denies everything." Here, she shot Harry a filthy glare then her expression morphed. "Besides, you're wearing his scarf," she smirked, triumphantly.

For a few moments, Harry's brain stilled. She recognised Draco's scarf, too? He cursed silently. Well of course she does.

Harry gave the girl a level look and decided to go with denial. It usually worked for him. "Parkinson, I'm sure you're aware that there a loads of scarfs that resemble this one out there in the world."

The Slytherin's smirk widened, reminding Harry briefly of Draco.

"Wrong, that one was custom made and none of them have the history that one has," the girl retorted, a wicked gleam to her eyes and looking like she wanted to touch the garment. "Draco's had that scarf since his third year and refused to have it replaced. I can identify any and all of it's imperfections as well as stating how the scarf got them."

"Obsessed much?" Harry muttered in complete disbelief.

"Believe what you will, Potter," Pansy replied boredly with a touch of annoyance. "But I'd know that scarf anywhere. It has 'The Property of Draco Malfoy' embroidered in silver on one of the corners." Her expression turned instantly smug. "What's it like being claimed as the property of Draco, Potter?"

That actually made Harry feel kind of... weird and he tried not to grimace openly at the Slytherin's statement. He also made a mental note to check the scarf later for that supposed name-tag.

"I belong to no one, Parkinson. Property or not and I think you're delusional," Harry stated simply. He tilted his head to the side, quizzically. "Delusional and obsessed with Malfoy."

Pansy stepped back and hissed like a cat tossed in water.

"Fine," she muttered, "I came to you for help but obviously you don't care what may or may not happen to him."

That caught Harry's attention.

What?

"What on earth do you mean?" He scoffed, adopting an air of very mild curiosity, when in reality he was really dying for her to spit the words out.

"I think Draco's in trouble."

"Yes and why would that be?" Harry prompted with a coolly arched brow. "And why didn't you go to Dumbledore if it's so serious. Even if Malfoy and I were friends, what could I do to help him?"

"Get rid of Torrez."

Harry stared hard at Pansy, his countenance set in complete incredulity. He was well aware of the fact that Pansy and Pan clashed rather horribly, having happened upon the two once or twice while they were arguing, but he never thought she'd blame Pan for something as serious as Draco being in danger from him.

"You can't be serious," Harry muttered, to himself.

"Torrez is your lap dog, don't even try to deny it," Pansy cut in, sharply. "He comes to your every beck and call like a faithful mutt to it's master. If you felt anything at all for Draco, you'd send that bastard Torrez away."

"Why?" Harry pressed.

Pansy paused a moment, as though unsure if she should continue or not. Then she swallowed and gave a tiny nod, as though reassuring herself. "The house has been divided ever since Torrez arrived," she said, her mouth twisted in distaste. "Now it's been split into those loyal to Draco and the others that are following Torrez."

"And this is bad, how?"

The Slytherin shot Harry a filthy glare. Then, seeming a little less confident of herself, she fished inside her robes and withdrew a long parchment of paper. "These are all the people sided with Draco in our house," she said, pressing the crumpled paper into Harry's hands. "You figure it out."

"It's good to know he has such a loyal friend," Harry voiced, tonelessly as his eyes quickly swept the list of those named.

The girl's eyes narrowed further, as though she thought he was being sarcastic. "Of course he does! Not all of us are back biting vermin you all seem to believe. He needs good friends. Especially now his father is locked up." She fixed Harry with an accusatory glare.

Harry shrugged calmly. Totally unaffected by her look.

He studied the list of names once more, this time more carefully. He couldn't be sure, because he wasn't certain about any in Slytherin house, but he was almost confident enough to state that the listed people were neutral to the war, meaning...

"Pan's leading the faction that support..."

It didn't make sense. Harry would have thought that since Draco's father had been the 'Known' Death eater, that the other little Death Eater wannabes would all have flocked to the Draco as well. But they had gone to Pan? What had happened? Had Draco fallen out of favour within his house?

I suppose this would explain the absence of Crabbe and Goyle, Harry reflected. He hadn't seen Draco with the pair since the last Hogsmeade weekend, but then he had been sneaking off to talk with his warder more often and had never considered the real possibility behind the the lack of Draco's usual 'body guards.'

Pansy smirked at him briefly. "Smart boy. You're not as dumb as you look."

"Gee, thanks," Harry replied, sarcastically as he slipped the list into his robes, causing Pansy's smirk to widen once more. "I'll be sure to inform Dumbledore of this," he voiced, patting the now hidden list of names.

He studied Pansy for a moment, seeing if she was opposed to the idea but when she made no such protest, Harry nodded once.

"Just so we're clear on a few things, Potter," the girl intoned, her features becoming impassive once more. "I still don't like you but I find you at least tolerable, unlike the rest of your ilk." With another smirk, Pansy turned on her heel and proceeded back the other way. Toward her next class.

Harry watched her go with a frown, before he too hurried along to his next class, with his mind still elsewhere. He needed to know what the hell Pan was doing and he was going to demand answers the next time he saw him.

--xXx--

The Angelus prince had made it to his class on time. Though it was cutting it extremely close and he ended up extremely pink in the face. Due to the lateness of course, Harry found that most of the seats with the shared Ravenclaw class were taken.

Hermione was seated with Terry Boot at the front of the class, while Ron was trapped with some highly irritating nameless, Ravenclaw girl and Harry found himself seated next to Jaime Devon. The Angelus was extremely grateful that Chris didn't share this class, even so he wasn't entirely sure what to make of Jaime yet, either. Though the boy had never indicated he harboured any potentially malicious or even 'hero-worshiping' tendencies towards Harry, the Gryffindor had decided to reserve his judgement on the other's character.

Harry had liked the faux Mad-eye Moody after all, and look how that had turned out? With the man attempting to murder him.

He offered Jaime a brief smile that was mirrored slowly by the other.

"Er," Harry muttered and blinked as he read the script from the black board. He hurriedly withdrew his school books and things. "What page are we on?"

"Page 696," Jaime answered as he uncapped his ink-bottle. "The fall of the Weiss bloodline. Tragic, really. Such a strong and talented family all slaughtered horribly. Can you imagine how magically powerful you'd be if you contained their blood? I think they'd be right up there with the Peverells and everyone claims ancestry to them."

"The Peverells..." Harry muttered with a frown. Hadn't he heard that name mentioned somewhere?

Jaime merely rolled his eyes at Harry and settled down to work.

"Why are we studying about them? I didn't think we were meant to start on the ancient bloodlines for a few more weeks yet."

The Ravenclaw shrugged. "Apparently we're ahead. Not that I mind, too much. Reading up on different bloodlines and the kinds of magical talents they possessed are far more interesting then reading about Goblin rebellions and the like.

"Take the Von Gaertners for example, they were renown for their use of powerful blood magic. This, of course was all before blood magic was considered dark. They were also able to develop a poison that ensnared the mind of any who drank it. Making the victim nothing more than dolls. I guess you could say they made a liquid version of Imperio. Thankfully, they took the poison's recipe to the grave."

That caused Harry to pause, he eyed Jaime curiously. "And others haven't attempted to recreate this potion?"

"Of course many have," Jaime acknowledge, his finger marking his place in his book. "But none were ever successful in the attempts and if they were, they've kept it secret. Knowledge is power, Harry," he said. "And that kind of knowledge is dangerous. Besides, many speculate that it may have contained a little of the family's blood itself."

"But wouldn't the person be able to break out of it?" Harry pressed, "Like some people can throw off the Imperio?"

Jaime shrugged, helplessly. "I only know what I read," he chuckled lightly as he pointed to the paragraphs he had read in Harry's book. "If you wanted to know more on that potion you'd need to look that up separately and I doubt it'll have anything useful in our school library," the Ravenclaw reasoned out. "It is now considered a highly illegal potion, even if it no longer exists."

Harry mulled over that, finding that this history lesson really wasn't so bad as it usually was with Binns' sleep-inducing lectures.

"Then there are the Weiss family," Jaime continued, clearly enjoying having an audience. Not that Harry was complaining, he was learning faster then he usually would, considering their class was usually where he took his naps. "They were a light orientated family. Said to have been very powerful magically, they also produced a couple of Seers."

The Angelus nodded along.

"Danika Weiss, was meant to have been the greatest from that line." Here, Jaime again pointed out the appropriate passage in Harry's tome, after flipping to the correct page.

"Wait, she was a seer?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed a little. He turned to find Jaime giving him a slight smile, apparently understanding Harry's abrupt outburst.

"The last heiress? Yes. Which makes the families deaths so much stranger. You'd think that if she was half as decent as history claims her to be then, she'd have at least foreseen her own grisly demise."

"Mmm," Harry murmured in agreement.

"There was also the Andjelics, they were rumoured to have been part dragon and part wizard. Though I think that rumour was likely started because of their ability to command dragons with ease. Probably from a rival family jealous of their talents. It's sad that their own pet dragon were to turn on them like that."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, deliberating on that information. Was it possible the family could speak dragon like he could speak snake? He'd never tried speaking parseltongue to a dragon before but considered it might be like trying to talk English to someone who only spoke Latin. Then again, it may be more alone the lines of trying to bark at a cat.

Then Harry's thought turned to something else entirely as his mind processed the dates of each family mentioned so far. From the look of things, a lot of very powerful families had died out during or just as the Dark ages came to an end.

"Am I boring you yet?"

"No," the Gryffindor replied, honestly as he glanced up at his companion a little startled. "I was just curious about the timeline, was all."

The Ravenclaw frowned, too. "Why worry about the..." His dark eyes widened slightly. "Oh, you mean that they seemed to die out around the same time?"

"Well, yeah," Harry admitted, skimming his finger across the text of his page. "All around the end of the Dark ages."

Jaime shook his head. "A lot of families didn't make it through the Dark ages. Beside, look here," he pointed to another block of text and Harry tried not to stiffen. "The Nikolais are somewhat recent in their bloodline being wiped out. There was an absolute uproar when they were killed, too. I remember my Great Grandpa going on about it when I was little, despite it being over for years. From what I was told, Lucien Malfoy was out for blood and didn't stop until he had the head of all those he thought was involved in their deaths."

Harry shuddered.

"I know," Jaime conceded, looking a little sheepish. "It's kind of eerie and all but, well, it is interesting, too."

The Angelus remained mute. Unsure what to say further and disturbed greatly by the subject they were currently on.

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"Huh?" Harry blinked.

Jamie shook his dark-hair, his eyes shone with mirth. "I think I've distracted you enough for the day," he stated with a grin. "We had better start on our actual work before we get in trouble."

Sighing, Harry opened up book back onto page 696 and began reading. It wasn't long before the text blurred with his mind focused elsewhere and he gave up altogether. Now that he had time pretty much to himself, his body was trying to get him to sleep. He was still extremely tired, after all. He had woken far earlier than he usually would.

It was with that thought, that Harry's mind shut down and he drifted off to the land of dreams. With his last conscious thoughts on his strange dream and Draco.

Unsure of how long he had been out, Harry was rudely awoken some time later as he found himself lying flat on the ground and Jaime looking white as a sheet and like he was about to have a heart attack.

Everyone turned to look at the downed boy. Including the floating History teacher.

"Is everything all right, Mr Potter?"

"Sorry, Professor," Jaime interjected, breathlessly. It sounded like he had run a mile. "I accidentally knocked him out of his seat. I saw a bug crawling over him and tried to get it but it seems I may have over estimated my hit."

"Yeah," Harry murmured, bemusedly as he dusted himself off and found his seat once more. "Sorry, sir."

Binns stared at Jaime then transferred his gaze to Harry for a few moments longer. He gave a brief nod. "Please be careful, gentlemen."

Both boys nodded immediately.

The Teacher gave another nod and went back to his lecture, while Harry carefully avoided the concerned looks both Hermione and Ron cast his way.

"Sorry," Jaime murmured apologetically, once everyone had returned to their work. His dark eyes were filled with shame. "I was trying to wake you. I didn't realise you would react so violently to someone trying to shake you awake."

"It... happens, sometimes," Harry replied, honestly. His reaction to others had been settling down a little but it seemed not quite as much as he'd thought. "Doesn't matter."

The Ravenclaw nodded, his face slightly downcast and nothing further was said.

--xXx--

The moment Harry set his foot outside the classroom door he knew something was terribly wrong, but wasn't sure exactly what.

The air felt different, smelt different. Like someone had interfered with it somehow and the ever present part of Draco in his mind was oddly still. He was still awake and aware, that much was certain but it was almost like the other was trying to assess something carefully and didn't want anyone else to get in his way.

Warily, Harry headed towards the Great hall for lunch and towards Draco who seemed to be moving out of the dungeons.

Before the Angelus even made it to the corridor outside the Great Hall he was able to determine what was different about the air. It was tainted heavily with the heady scent of blood and sickening stench of death.

Flanked by his closest friends, Harry carefully led the group out of the corridor and into the vast chamber just outside of the Great hall, where he came to a stop.

People were crowding around the entrance halls, seemingly concentrated on the large wooden doors. Their shocked chattered was the only thing that Harry could hear. He pushed forward, eagerly followed by Ron and Hermione to see what had drawn the attention of the other school inhabitants, but the trio were quickly separated in the thick throng of students. Ron having been tugged away by that leech Lavender Brown and Hermione, barely fighting off the push of the crowd to stay at Harry's side.

"Dumbledore's coming." Someone said.

A sharp jolt of anxiety and warning announced the arrival of Draco on the other side of the hall. Harry instantly spotted him weaving his way through the crowd to get as close to the Angelus as he could, there the Invidian prince proceeded to bark out order's to the Slytherin prefects.

"Parkinson! Harper! Get everyone into the Great hall and do a head count. I want to know if there is a single person missing from our house, understood?" He didn't even bother to see whether they complied before he turned to Hermione. "I suggest you do the same for your house, Granger."

Hermione looked distrustfully at the blonde before she shared a quick glance with the Nikolai heir, then she nodded. Although to Harry it looked extremely reluctant.

He glanced about the impending chaos in mild confusion, as the prefects from the other two houses immediately followed Draco and Hermione's lead and began ordering the rest of their house mates to sit at their tables in the Great hall.

While the mass of students made their way into the hall under their prefects watchful eye, Harry was startled as a hand settled on his shoulder and tried to pull him away furtively. He turned and was surprised that it was Draco's hand, seeing as they were in a very crowded place with many eyes and ears. Even though he knew the blonde had been at his side, that had been more than a little unexpected. The Slytherin though, didn't appear to care very much and tried again with equal luck.

"Harry, come with me," the Slytherin ordered in a harsh whisper. Desperation was beginning to lace his tone. "Now."

Wary as well as terribly bewildered now, the Angelus refused to be moved. "What's wrong?" He asked, despite the fact he could feel how incredibly frazzled Draco's currently were. He didn't feel it was wise to just follow the order.

Pan appeared then and tried to do what his cousin could not. "Harry, don't," he warned.

Standing before Harry, the white haired boy blocked most of Harry's view, but since the Angelus had done a fair amount of growing over the past weeks, the use of Pan's body as a visual shield wasn't as effective as it may have once been. The invidian wrapped his arms around the emerald-eyed boy and tried to drag him bodily away.

And for once, Draco didn't complain.

It was all for naught, though, as the remaining student body parted almost seamlessly to allow Harry to view the scene that Draco had been trying to protect him from and his breath was torn from his throat in a sharp, painful gasp, transfixed by the sight that met his eyes.

It was Hedwig.

His beautiful snowy owl was sodden with blood in patches, some of her feathers ripped from her breast and lying scattered about on the floor beneath where she rested, nailed to the doors by her two awkwardly twisted wings. Her large, now sightless amber eyes peered through him. Her beak was open, and looked jarred, broken. One of her talons outstretched, clutching a blood soaked parchment as though expecting Harry to release her of her burden.

"Hedwig," Harry whispered brokenly, in disbelief and confusion.

The muttering all around seemed to dim in his ears and he knew it was because all those who hadn't yet entered the hall were staring at him. No one else in the school possessed an owl like Harry's so everyone knew she was his.

Taking another, numb step forward and pushing Pan from his path, Harry's eyes were suddenly drawn to the message transcribed in blood. It was disturbingly reminiscent of the chamber of secrets. Though the words were more angular and harsh and spoken in a language he shouldn't know.

You won't be able to hide forever, fallen star.
And your pet Dragon can't always protect you.

--xXx--