The Revised Chronicles of

Those-Who-Lived

Chapter Twenty-Five:

"Harry, you remember what they said? You heard, right?" Nanna bounced on his arm. "I'm a shoo-in for reserve; even Katie and Angelina and Alicia agreed! I'll be on the team the year after next when the Twins are gone!"

Harry had heard. Several times. Nanna hadn't been able to contain her excitement all weekend. Now, at supper on Sunday evening, she was still pouncing on him and reminding him of it. The entire regular Gryffindor Quidditch team – and, from glimpses Harry had had, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff's teams as well – had filled the stands as soon as they heard that a pick-up game was turning into a full match. They'd only been too happy to critique the hopefuls on their performance.

Still, Harry wasn't entirely satisfied. He still didn't know why Alan was grinning so widely. At breakfast, Severus had been just as cheerful. While Harry's friends and house were all bright and cheery because of a good match (it was amazing what even a lost game of Quidditch could do for their morale) Harry was still gnawing on the problem that was Alan.

Nothing interesting had come from his parents that day, except for his father reporting that he had seen the article, and – while he wasn't surprised Snape had knocked up a whore – that really wasn't something he'd needed to know about him, and he wasn't going to stoop low enough to use it against him or his child – his kid especially didn't deserve that. He included a stern order that Harry not use that against him either. Harry supposed last year hadn't helped his father's opinion of his temper.

Harry also strongly suspected that it had been his mother who had corrected his father on the 'not using it against Snape' part.

Alan was seated once again amidst his gathered coterie, which now included Theodore Nott, and he was apparently in deep conversation with all of them, earning himself incredulous exclamations and other responses that only made Alan smile. Harry frowned. He needed to get Alan's attention. He ignored dessert, spinning his fork in his hand as he ran through several ideas. It was finally Neville who elbowed him out of it, and, as he received his friend's irritated glare, Harry suddenly smiled and excused himself.

It was a spell from the Dark Arts book that came to mind, one he'd seen before too. Harry stopped just outside the doors of the Great Hall and crouched to whisper, "Serpensortia."

A small, black and green snake dropped from his wand to the ground, and Harry called it onto his hand. He felt a shiver of nerves: he'd never really spent much time with any snakes before, but he raised his hand and opted to be polite.

"Hello," he hissed.

"Who are you?" the snake hissed, tasting the air and flicking Harry's nose. "What did you summon me for?"

"I... need to send a message," Harry elaborated, still a little stunned. The spell conjured a snake, but it wouldn't last, depending on the caster's skill and power. Harry wasn't too worried about power; it was skill he wasn't sure about. "The boy... you can smell Parselmouths, can't you?" It had been in the book 'Serpent-Tongue' at least.

"Yesss." The snake bobbed it's head. "To another Parselmouth? What must I say?"

"Ask him to meet the other Parselmouth in the library. He knows who I am."

"Very well."

Harry lowered his hand and added, "It's the first table; he's on the side closer to the wall."

The snake bobbed its head again, and Harry hit it with a disillusionment charm before it could be seen – now he just hoped it didn't get stepped on on it's way. He could follow the shimmer of the disillusionment spell with his eyes, and once it disappeared beneath the chairs, Harry turned and went to the library to wait for Alan.

It was forty-five minutes before Alan arrived. Harry had gotten into a book, but he jumped when something slithered onto his shoulders. Harry glared at Alan and then flinched as something brushed his cheek. He turned and found the black and green snake draped over his shoulders.

Alan sat down across from him with a grin. "Now that's odd," Alan observed. "It's a magical snake, isn't it?"

"A conjuration," Harry clarified. "Remember the spell Malfoy used second year? It's the same one."

"Interesting. I asked Louis about it, but he wouldn't teach me, said it was both useless and Dark." Alan raised an eyebrow. "Of course, he's not a Parselmouth."

Harry swallowed the pinch that came from knowing Alan knew he'd used a Dark spell, and before his conscience could pinch him again, he raised his wand and undid the conjuration. The faint weight on his shoulders disappeared, and Harry shut his book to frown at Alan. "What's got you grinning like the cat that ate the canary all weekend, Alan?"

Alan stretched, making a pleased sound and smiled again. "I'm surprised it wasn't in the paper," Alan said, "but it wasn't a very accurate spell either. I do know she's gone missing."

"Who has?"

"Rita Skeeter."

Harry blinked. "What do mean?"

Alan glanced around and hit the bookshelves with a privacy charm. "My dear and lovely aunt... You remember what I told you about my cousins, right?"

"Louis, Green and..." Harry faltered. He hadn't met the last, he didn't think. There had been so many people at the Triwizard cup he hardly remembered them.

"Amaranth," Alan finished. "Amaranth is a spell-smith, and a researcher. He's kinda in the middle of the two, sanity wise."

Harry stifled a snort. That did not say much.

"Anyways, he's researching a weird spell he refuses to tell me about that's a kind of aimless transfiguration – really powerful. He says he's tried it..." Alan faltered. "You know America has the death penalty, right?"

Harry frowned, really confused now. "Yes...?"

"Well, Salem has some... experiments that are really dangerous. And you don't want those used on people who aren't sentenced to die, so he'd tried on criminals from Death Row and the results were... not pretty, in most cases."

Harry was significantly more worried and disgusted than before. "And what, did your aunt try this on Skeeter?"

Alan rubbed the back of his neck and then nodded. "Nnnn... Yeah. Sent it in the mail."

"She did what?"

Alan laughed. "Yeah, that was reportedly both Louis and Amaranth's response."

"What if it went off on somebody else?"

"I... don't think she cared." Alan shrugged once again.

Harry wanted to slap him. "So she's just going to risk... whatever that was happening to anybody?"

"I didn't say I agreed! But still... Rita's disappeared. The only other response to that spell was the person changed into an animal, like an Animagus, except they couldn't change back. So chances are, Rita's stuck until she can find someone to change her back; she's not even dead!"

Harry stuck to his offence and glared. It didn't excuse the risk.

"Harry, what am I going to do? Lecture my own Aunt on her mistakes?" Alan asked, spreading his hands. "She was wrong; I wouldn't do that, but honestly since it's Rita, I don't really care all that much. It didn't go wrong. Once you're past the danger, there's no point anymore. If she was on the Animagus register she'd be able to get recognized by someone even then, but she's not."

Harry turned his head aside and scowled still. They sat in silence, Alan finally turning aside and pulling out parchment and two textbooks to start on his own work. Harry leaned forward to pull his open once more – he was trying to start Moody's essay on hexes, but he wasn't sure he could focus anymore...

"Are you going to report it to your father?" Alan asked dully.

Harry blinked. "No. Why would I?"

"Well if you're so offended... Never mind."

Harry grimaced and fell silent again. Would he report it? He had no proof. And while his father arguing with Alan's aunt would be funny, Harry hadn't liked how observant she was when he saw her over the summer. He didn't need her talking to his father.

Harry stopped himself and shook his head. If he was worrying about his own situation, it couldn't matter that much to him. "No, I'm going to not tell my dad."

Alan sent him a smile and then tilted his head slightly. "Harry... Have you ever been curious about Occlumency?"

Harry frowned. "What, you mean the stuff you had to learn over the summer?"

Alan nodded idly.

"No, I haven't. I think Professor Zen may have something or another about it, but it's NEWT stuff, not OWL. What exactly is it?"

"Counterpoint to Legilimency," Alan started. "It's closing your mind to any invasion, while Legilimency is trying to get in. It takes a lot of concentration or not, depending on how you learn it." Alan grinned, "After trying to teach me one type for two months, Louis just tossed me into the other and I took to it like a fish to water."

"There's different types?" Harry scowled, but suddenly an alarm on Alan's watch went off. His friend scowled at it and then sighed, putting his books back away before stealing one of the ones Harry had pulled down. "Hey, I was going to use that."

"You don't have Defence until Thursday afternoon; I have it morning. You don't even need this book; you already know plenty about hexes."

"I want it back Wednesday at the latest," Harry retorted. "Is that alarm a warning about curfew?"

"Yes," Alan huffed. "Here, ask Zen if he has any suggestions about Occlumency and I'll try to get you a book on it from Louis."

Harry nodded. "Alright. Sounds like fun."

"How about we meet sometime around Easter to go over it in more detail? I should be able to get the Animagus potion done then, too."

Harry grinned widely. "Alright. Good luck with that essay."

"Hah, you're the one who needs luck!"

"I've never failed a Defence test!"

They split off from each other, Alan going to check out the book and Harry leaving his behind. Harry had better ones in his trunk, and one of Neville's would be a big help too. He was still turning the essay over in his mind when he got through the common room and tossed his bag on his bed to pop open his trunk. It wasn't until Neville cleared his throat that Harry looked up and asked the question that had been on his mind first,

"Neville, do you have that treatise by Theravada Glottis on counters and shields?"

"Trunk." He scooted down and kicked it, making the latch pop open. "Harry, you really like that corner in the library, don't you?"

Harry blinked, his mind crashing to a halt. "Um, yes?"

"Do you normally spend two hours or more there with Alan Prince?"

Harry couldn't come up with an answer. Neville was watching him with an unreadable expression. When Harry couldn't respond, he just sighed, shrugging and tucking back behind a book. There was a parchment open on the bed next to him, and Harry felt his mouth go dry. He was willing to bet good money it was the new Marauder's Map... And it had just confirmed to Neville that Harry and Alan weren't rivals, they were friends.

Harry forced himself to pick out the books he wanted and fished the other out of Neville's trunk before crawling onto his bed to try and do the work. He couldn't concentrate.

Neville still hadn't said anything. Harry doubted Neville would. There wasn't actually anything wrong with him and Alan being friends. He just didn't want it well known. Last year he and Alan had been able to distract everyone with their fights, but this year he neither had the heart nor the permission – Harry did not want to know what detention with Dumbledore was like.

Harry still hadn't told Neville about Alan being another candidate for the Prophecy nor that Dumbledore had told Alan the same about him. With all the stress on Alan, Harry was feeling more and more Gryffindor as he struggled to support him. Neville would have been a fool not to notice eventually, especially with that damn map Harry hadn't opted to take from him.

He was overreacting. Nothing had changed. Neville wouldn't hurt him or Alan. Harry stubbornly opened the book and started reading the contents. Neville just didn't seem to like Alan all that much. Maybe if he introduced them, they'd get along... Maybe...

IIII

Tuesday evening Harry stayed after class during Meditations and cautiously approached Professor Zen. The stern man was flipping through their essays from last week and didn't seem to be aware of him until Harry stopped in front of his desk.

"Something has been on your mind," Professor Zen observed, looking up sharply. "Well?"

"I was curious... about what you know of Occlumency."

"Occlumency, the discipline of emptying your mind to prevent its secrets from reaching anyone you do not wish to know no matter how they may try to pry them away," he recited. "It's counterpoint of Legilimency, a more complicated and difficult discipline that involves reaching inside another's mind to tease out their secrets and memories. They're both NEWT or further work. Why are you curious now?"

Harry blushed and tried to think of a reasonable explanation. He opened his mouth and closed it. Would Professor Zen know if he was lying? He didn't know if his teacher knew both of those or not – which meant he could very well be reading his mind anyways. Harry dropped his eyes and shrugged.

"Good response." Professor Zen congratulated him and popped open a drawer. "Curiosity, for whatever reason, is not worth punishment. Knowing it now, if you are able, would be bonus points for your OWL and move you well towards your NEWTs." He placed one of the European Magical Monthly magazines on his desk and slid it over. "There's an article on Occlumency on page thirty-eight. Read it, summarize, and find a good excuse for yourself and hand it in – I'll grade it as bonus work." He smiled suddenly, a real, honest smile that looked weird on a man normally as reticent as Snape or McGonagall. "Not that you need it. You're an excellent student. I wouldn't be surprised if you were capable of Occlumency at your present state."

Harry blushed again and accepted the magazine before leaving, his face still hot.

Alan got the book on Occlumency to Harry two weeks after they'd discussed it, promising he should have the potion done early into the Easter break. Shortly after that, Neville mentioned that he wanted to see the Animagus book again to move further in his own work. Harry cautiously asked him if he wanted to come with him to talk to Alan about the potion... although when he asked, he had to keep breaking off with qualifiers until he told himself to shut up.

Neville only shrugged, and Harry turned and explained that Alan was thinking about teaching him Occlumency. That got Neville's attention, and he demanded to read the book. Harry didn't see the book again for a week. Fortunately, he'd read over the initial exercises and found them to only be a little different from the various meditation styles he'd already learned in class.

He finished the essay for Professor Zen the week before Easter, and it was two days into the holidays before Harry got the expected note from Alan – in an unexpected manner.

Neville came up from the library well before Harry would have expected him: It was hardly an hour past lunch. Harry jumped when he sat next to him, pulling away from his Defence text to frown at his brother. Neville handed him a folded note, and Harry gave him an odd look. He hefted the Charms textbook he was reading and it flickered, showing the slate-and-silver cover of the Occlumency book. Harry blinked and flipped open the note.

It was Alan's handwriting – he knew that perfectly now – and he was asking Harry to come join him in the Chamber and to bring Neville, if he wanted to. Alan admitted he'd be bringing Blaise and Daphne. Harry felt a twinge of nerves, and not entirely based out of secrecy – and not related to the Animagus or Occlumency work, either. Bringing their friends wasn't a bad thing – they were all curious, weren't they? It was all practical work...

Besides, people would ask fewer questions if they disappeared with their friends. It meant those friends wouldn't hang around making uncomfortable connections and possibly coming to the wrong conclusions.

Harry refolded the paper and huffed. They were only breaking one or two laws by becoming Animagi. Occlumency wasn't regulated – although Legilimency was. Dumbledore hadn't told him to stay out of the Chamber, after all.

Harry shut his book and put it into his bag before standing and shouldering it to grin at Neville. "I think it'd go better if I was working in the library, you're right. Let's go?"

Neville marked his page, shut the book and took the note from Harry, glancing over it as he followed him out the portrait hole. Neville's bag was dragging on one arm, and he shifted it up onto his shoulder as he tucked the note in next to his bookmark.

"Harry," Neville asked, glancing around to see that the coast was clear. "What was Prince doing, giving me this note?"

Harry shrugged. "He must have noticed it was his book you were reading and presumed you knew."

"And how, exactly, did he know what book I was reading?" Neville hissed. "I have it glamoured so well Flitwick hasn't even noticed it's there!"

Harry tried to wrap his mind around that and finally shrugged. "Good question. Ask him."

"'Ask him'?" Neville scowled. "Just, 'ask him'?"

"What, you think I know all his secrets? He's told me a few times he's got weird eyes, but I haven't been able to get it out of him. You go throw it in his face. Maybe he'll finally give a straight answer."

"I intend to," Neville growled, and thumbed the note in his book again. "Why is Prince bringing Zabini with him?"

"Alibi, probably." Harry shrugged. "And he's had problems getting hexed all year. Better to have friends and more targets, rather than less. And who wouldn't want to learn how to be an Animagus? Not to mention how useful Occlumency is."

"That's our book he's sharing out, remember?" Neville grumbled. "You do remember how illegal that book is?"

"They probably think it's his; he'd be able to get it easily enough. Besides, neither of them would out us."

"You trust them?" Neville asked, incredulously.

"They're Slytherin," Harry shrugged. "I'm a better ally than an enemy. Simple enough. Same for you."

Neville paused and blinked before he caught up with Harry on the landing. Harry had just shocked Neville. He hadn't anticipated that.

Then again, Neville had always been a very straight-forward rules person. The Slytherin games of give-and-take just weren't his kind of thing. His thinking usually got complicated in regards to Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and spell craft – not politics and alliances. The Longbottoms had been a very 'soft' pureblood family for several generations now, and stayed out of politics.

They made it all the way to the second floor before Neville asked another question,

"Why am I a better ally than enemy?"

Harry gave Neville a long look, and then smiled and shook his head, leading him to Myrtle's bathroom without answering. Neville was scowling as he followed, and he remained silent through his nod to Myrtle... through him dropping down the pipe, and through his own arrival, and Harry shutting the sink behind them.

He finally spoke as they started down the hallway.

"Is my name really all that important?"

"Yes and no," Harry answered, smiling. "It's not everything, though."

"I'm not that good," Neville argued. "You're magically stronger than me by a long shot, and Hermione gets the better grade, more often than not, since she actually studies."

Harry rolled his eyes. "And that makes Hermione important in spite of her lack of a family name. You've got the money, the skill, and the intelligence all together, and you're my friend and the friend of several other purebloods. Stop being modest." Harry turned to make a face at him. "Hell, you've got that natural skill to judge power. I can't do that."

"Your mother does it all the time."

"And it drives my dad nuts!"

Neville rolled his eyes and demanded, "Is this going to be like one of those stuffy pureblood parties?"

Harry snorted, almost dismissed it and then paused. "With Zabini and Greengrass there... it might be. Just try and be comfortable, okay?"

"Harry," he whined. "I hate politics."

Harry shrugged and strode through the open portal in the main room, leading Neville over to the table, where Alan was walking with Blaise and Daphne. Alan turned to give Harry a smile that was more a quirk of his lips than anything and returned to finish his discussion with his friends. Harry glanced back at Neville and was surprised to see him with a mostly blank face, nearly the equal of the closed expression Zabini was giving them, save for the tension around his eyes that creased his brow.

Harry took the seat to Alan's right, opposite Zabini, as Neville took the next seat down from him. Harry was surprised the seat had been left open, especially as Zabini glared at him. Ignoring Neville's irritation once more, even as he no longer really knew just what was causing it, Harry leaned back and threw Alan a brilliant smile.

"Good evening, Alan."

Alan nodded to Harry and threw Neville a polite smile that Neville mirrored almost perfectly. Alan's smiled widened.

"Thanks for coming, Harry. Good to see you, too, Longbottom. I believe you both already know Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini?"

Neville nodded politely and turned to address Alan once more. "I appreciate the invite, Prince, although I don't understand why you thought to ask."

"I noticed you were reading my book," Alan grinned. "The glamour spell wasn't as good as it could have been."

Harry bit his lips as Neville stared a moment longer and wondered how bad the fight would get.

Neville responded softly, "You're saying you can see through Favreau's Mantle of Innocuity?"

Alan went very still, and Harry threw Neville an admiring look. He hadn't known Neville had mastered that. That was Auror-level glamour. If you didn't get it right, it didn't take. Harry doubted Moody could notice it was there, much less see through it. Chances are he hadn't if Neville had been using it regularly.

"I never said I could see through it," Alan allowed carefully. Harry wondered how much lying he was about to do. Zabini and Daphne looked just as interested as he and Neville were. "I... Louis taught me several ways to detect glamour." He rallied, his eyes relaxing and his smile widening again. "Considering how close you and Harry are, I figured you might be reading the Occlumency book. You were mouthing the basic meditation lock I know very well."

Neville's look faded to a considering glance, nodding slowly – he did talk to himself when he read. Harry recognized that set to his face: it meant Alan had suddenly brought a spell to mind. Detecting Favreau's Mantle was more work than casting it, and while Alan getting into the Tournament argued that level of skill, Harry, at least, knew Alan wasn't at that level of theory yet. Harry actually knew that Alan was struggling to master the first of the NEWT spells.

Neville wasn't the only one eyeing the other with deep interest. Alan was just as surprised at Neville's skill.

Harry was just wondering why Neville hadn't torn Alan's excuse apart yet. He'd skipped a lot of detail, although the mention of Louis was nice – and suspicious. However, Harry wasn't going to lose out on Neville actually capitulating the point. If he started demanding, and Alan didn't want to tell, it would break them apart – possibly permanently. Harry did not want them to be against each other.

"What did you plan on going over first, Alan? Animagi or Occlumency?" Harry asked.

"Occlumency," Alan answered immediately, shifting his attention to Harry, "then we'll do Animagi. There's enough of that oil for the three of us – me, Blaise, and Daphne, and I have your potion already finished, with some extra in case one of us has need of it. I trust Neville would just like the book back?" Alan scooted back and fished it out of his bag as he finished talking, sliding it over to Neville with a smile. His eyes were bright with curiosity. "What was your form?"

"Dun thoroughbred stallion," Neville answered.

"Awesome form," Alan grinned. "Sounds like fun." He leaned back, glanced at his bag, and then frowned at Harry and Neville. "Do you have that Occlumency book?"

Neville slid it over hesitantly and, as Alan began to flip through, asked, "What branch are you going to cover with us anyways?"

Alan blinked. "I was thinking of explaining the Plane first and seeing how well you got that before going into the Crystal shield, which is what worked initially for me. I'm still trying to perfect the Plane, myself."

Neville nodded, folding his arms on the table. "I preferred the Crystal method myself. I understood that immediately."

"Daphne couldn't do it," Alan shrugged, "And Blaise finds it offensive. You can honestly do more with the Plane than the Crystal, which is why I'm trying to learn it."

Harry felt a pinch and was rather glad he hadn't opted to bring Hermione down. He'd just introduced two of his very theoretical friends. Three would have definitely been too many; two was going to be bad enough. He hadn't read the book all the way, only as far as Alan had recommended. He hadn't bothered to tell Neville that; he wouldn't have listened.

However, he did not appreciate being left out as they tossed the concepts back and forth. Daphne didn't look any happier. Harry gave her a smirk and a shrug, and she smiled before straightening.

"Boys," she snapped.

Alan halted in mid-sentence and turned to give her his politest face. Blaise was rolling his eyes and Neville frowned, subsiding into his seat once more.

Neville dryly asked. "Yes?"

She gave him a sweet smile. "Could you two explain that to us normal people again, in terms we can understand?"

Neville sighed and turned beseechingly to Harry who only gave him a wide grin. He tried to appeal to Alan, but found the boy grinning just as widely as Harry. Throwing his hands in the air, he asked, "Who first, then?"

"Go ahead. Explain the Crystal as you understood it." Alan grinned.

Neville rubbed a hand over his face and started. "The Crystal is... based on creating a barrier between your mind and the outside. It is a kind of shield that won't allow anything in or out, pretty much locking your mind completely from interference of any kind. It draws on your magical reserves for power, and while maintaining it doesn't take much, getting it up does." He turned to Daphne with a shrug. "You, Daphne, don't really have enough power to get it started, and Blaise would probably struggle." He turned a little pink. "For me, Harry, and Alan, though..."

"It'd be a piece of cake," Blaise sneered. "And you might as well light a bonfire to announce that you're scared of anyone prying."

"Hence the Plane," Alan cut in before Neville could respond to Blaise's sarcasm. He glared at his friend, and then smiled between Harry and Daphne with enough amusement Harry promised to hex him one for it. "The Plane is closer to the class of Meditations than the Crystal method, because while the Crystal only takes the concentration to get it up, the Plane is precipitated by maintaining the state of calm and order in your own mind. It's a matter of..." Alan frowned and made a waffling motion with his hand, "...keeping your mind clear, or something. Not drawing someone into your anxieties – cutting the ties of your secrets from your 'outside' mind." He made another face. "I still don't really get it."

Blaise pulled the book over and began to scan down the page. Harry sighed and folded his arms as silence fell, Alan still looking thoughtful as Daphne traced designs on the table.

"From what I gathered, reading," Neville offered, "it's keeping the emotion out of it so there's not that 'tie' back to the secret."

"But how do you manage that?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"By putting up a subtle mental block." Neville shrugged. "I don't know meditations; I can't explain it better than that."

"Mental block?" Harry frowned. "You mean, like a smokescreen?"

"How do you even know what a smokescreen is?" Alan had tilted his chair back, frowning.

"Because it's not a new concept, and the article Professor Zen gave me talked about it." Harry explained with exaggerated patience. "It talked about keeping idle thoughts 'outside' and putting a smokescreen, like a mental image, between your secrets and the outside. Imagery was something it said was very important, like hiding your secrets in the eye of a hurricane..." Harry shrugged again. "I think the author was some American they'd dragged over."

"What magazine?"

"European Magical Monthly."

Blaise put down the book and whistled. "My mother gets that. Half the time she throws it across the room, but two years ago they did an article on the Pureblood mansions, and they opted to showcase ours. She was really flattered... has been getting it ever since. It's good stuff. They had a wizard give an interview from what he remembered of serving Grindelwald during World War Two."

"Enough." Neville frowned and asked, "What do you do when someone attacks you with the Plane, though? It said something about forcing them out, but how do you do that when you don't have anything but a wispy mental image on board?"

"That's easy." Harry grinned immediately. "Meditations has that answer: you just focus and throw them out. Magic's all about your mind anyways; it's really easy to pick something up and toss it out when someone invades your own mind – they're on your territory, and unless you don't notice or they're stronger than you, you have the advantage."

"Which is why I like the Plane," Blaise repeated. "Unlike you, Neville, I'm not a great and wondrous mage overflowing with power. Keeping people from knowing anything I don't want to give away, without them even knowing I'm not telling them everything, sounds like a really good plan to me."

"The Plane also has advantages against the Imperius that the Crystal does not," Alan interjected, "because of how intimately you learn your own mind, but that's immaterial at this point. I think we've all determined what we're planning on learning?"

Harry and Daphne nodded easily. Blaise sat back in his chair and inclined his chin as Neville crossed his arms and deliberately started ignoring the black boy.

"Just one more question," Daphne put in. "What would break through the Crystal defence?"

"Overpowering it," Alan answered immediately. "Basically, you have to bulldozer – er..." he corrected himself as Daphne stared blankly, "...run it over, like, charge like a bull straight at it. If you're stronger than the person holding it, or in better condition after wearing them down, it'll shatter – the person will end up pretty dazed, but since more who can use it are really strong, it doesn't happen often."

"And it takes work to get it up?"

"A minute or two concentration," Alan allowed, "But getting it down takes the same concentration unless it shatters or you're drugged off your ass. The Plane is ingrained habit once you get the hang of it, but again, getting drunk or otherwise incapacitated can make it shift and lose its cohesion."

"Great," Neville sighed and sat back. "Are we starting with the Occlumency first?"

"The basics," Alan nodded. "You can read the book if you really want to, since I'm starting with the Plane exercises."

Neville nodded and propped up the Animagus book, flipping through to the halfway point. Harry ignored him and listened to Alan, quickly growing impatient. He already knew how to meditate. Partway through, he stole the book back from Blaise and started reading ahead, ignoring Alan's amused stare. Neither Daphne nor Blaise were in Meditations, so they had to start with clearing their minds. Harry was already aware of his 'mental landscape', and while he hadn't made any effort to change it before, he knew the theory...

The 'smokescreen' was best used with a vivid and unwelcome memory. Harry was stuck between toying with the acromantula or the three-headed dog for his when Alan wrapped up the first meditation practise for Blaise and Daphne and pulled out the Animagus potion. Harry took it eagerly, lay down on his folded robe, and closed his eyes.

The potion had tasted strongly of garlic and oregano. Harry sniffed and sneezed, and vivid lights burst behind his eyelids.

The lights faded to grey, and then to forest – he couldn't tell if it was the same as last time or not. He was looking down on the red-and-white dog and watching it sniff the trail, casting about for a scent. It was probably as tall as his waist, just thicker than a wolfhound, and definitely stronger – clearly, this wasn't just a tracking animal. It started a slow lope, gaining pace, its pack coming up around it as the chase began again.

An abrupt turn into the woods and Harry was jolted into its body again. He could smell the trail it followed – mule deer, big prey, a challenge and a joy to run down. He could taste the anticipation, hot blood and adrenaline. The great paws beat the ground in time, pulling him forward, faster, stronger...

The potion made him hyper-aware of everything, the pull on the muscles, the lay of the body, the strength and connections. He could feel where the joints came together, the lashing tail and perked up ears. The thought of the deer made his mouth salivate, and the feelings and reasons came together – the hunt was all: the chase, the take-down, the fight. The Cwn Annwn were seekers, eager to find, eager to act, eager to take the lead – but heedful of their pack, and their hunter. It wasn't the blood that drew them, it was the challenge.

Harry woke up with a headache. Groaning, he moved to sit up and glanced around. Another possible cause was standing face-to-face across the room in the middle of an argument. Not five feet away, Alan was lying down, hands on his stomach, with a peaceful expression on his face. Harry glanced back over at Neville and Blaise and decided he couldn't put that off anytime soon. Forcing himself to stand, reclaim his robe, and find a seat at the table across from Daphne put him close enough to find out what the two were arguing about.

"– It's really unlikely," Neville sneered. "I haven't heard much about your line, but you're almost definitely more pure than the Princes, and do you even know anything about the Adamidis? Harry's my fourth cousin, and sure, the Potters are better, but his mother's muggleborn –"

"I think it's safe to say I might know more about the Prince line, and in spite of everything they're very refined and picky."

"And that's why Alan's grandfather is, in fact, a muggle. If you want to use those two as an example, I think it's safe to say that it's muggle blood with more bearing on their magical Animagus than their magical lineage."

"That's a completely absurd concept," Blaise spat. "It's a magical Animagus! It's impossible that it could come from muggle blood! Do muggleborns even have Animagus ability at all?"

"Harry!" Neville spun on him, and he jumped. "Did your mother try for her Animagus?"

"Not yet." Harry blinked. "Why? She's planning on it; I think her idea was to do it with me. I think she's going to have to do it with Nanna.

Neville threw his hands in the air and groaned. "There's no evidence that they don't!"

"And you don't have any that they do!" Blaise crowed.

Harry rolled his eyes and tuned it out to turn to Daphne. "What are they arguing about?"

"Whether being pureblood means you have a magical Animagus or not." She shrugged. "I don't really care. I'd more think it was related to power."

"Why are they arguing?"

"Alan's turned out to be a kneazle. He's taken the potion, and we're waiting on him now." She leaned back and sighed, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Harry felt a blush starting and asked the first question that came to mind. "What was your form?"

She shrugged. "A robin. I'm not interested in pursuing it; it was either I come along, or Lucille was going to butt in. I wasn't sure it would be smart to let her meet you and your friends at this point; she's not the friendliest person I've ever met."

Harry could well imagine. Harry's father had met her mother; the woman had nearly tried to attack him. He wasn't sure how far apart the girl and her mother might be, although the fact that she actually got along with Alan boded well. He turned back to where Neville and Blaise had knocked over a chair and were still arguing and asked,

"How much longer do you think they're going to last? Are they even on the same topic anymore?"

"I don't think so." Daphne shrugged. "Bet you a sickle they don't stop 'til Alan wakes up?"

Harry turned and found her grinning winsomely his way. Heat rushed again, but he didn't think he was blushing. "Sure. How long has Alan been out?"

"About half-an-hour. He woke a few minutes before Blaise, about the same time as me. You were out for over an hour."

"It's not going to take them that long to die down."

She held out her hand. "Bet you they do."

Harry took her hand and smiled. "You're on."

Daphne had very soft hands.

IIII

Harry lost a sickle that evening and left for the common room with a red-faced Neville. His brother was beaming by the time they reached the Fat Lady and peppered him with questions about meditation when they sat down in their dorm.

They met again that weekend to thrash out the last questions about the meditations and go into the middle-ending theory of the Animagus transformation that gave Harry another headache. He was spending some time looking over dog anatomy books to really get a sense of the information packed into his head and had written Sirius another letter, getting an answer just as complicated.

Neville, it seemed, was perfectly happy with his and eager to get going on his Animagus – his competitive nature had kicked in again, and he was serious about getting one over on Blaise Zabini. The two had yelled each other into a first-name-basis and now weren't going to let the other live it down.

Harry had given up on talking them out of it, and instead used it to get Neville to start practising the Plane Occlumency with him. It was particularly effective after Neville talked Harry and himself through the Crystal defence, and they succeeded at it by the time Alan found out what the Third Task was going to be at the end of May.

They didn't meet in the Chamber again. Alan left Harry and Neville to teach themselves, spending a lot of time in the Library, not talking to anybody – even Harry when he went to join him there. He was studying a variety of spells with intense focus, and Harry had barely managed to wrangle the 'why' of it out of him: the last task was a hedge maze. The simple fact that Hagrid was helping supply the monsters for it was enough to keep Harry silent.

Neville was aware of Harry's worry now, and the full why of it, and began to pester Harry to step up his Occlumency and class work. The reminder of end-of-year tests coming up still didn't keep Harry's worry fully at bay, but when Neville brought Hermione in on it, it become quite a bit more successful because he didn't have any excuses anymore.

Neville also reminded him that Alan was at least as clever as they both were, with a strong grounding in how to keep himself alive. Neville's respect and his own finally brought his heart-rate down, and Harry spent the last two weeks of waiting in relative peace.

The weekend before the tests started, Alan ran into them in the library and took a moment to close his books and smile. "How's it going?"

Harry opened his eyes at him and grinned. "Good. I've got the Plane going strong, and it's getting there towards being habit. Yours?"

"My father has harassed me into getting it settled, yes." Alan grinned. "I've definitely gotten practise taking down and putting up the Crystal, you can say that." He sat down, looked at his book again and tossed it onto the table in disgust. "Do either of you have a decent random book I can look through? I think I've exhausted everything easily found in the library, and my eyes are crossing from trying to read the worn and faded spines in the Restricted Section."

Harry straightened his glasses and laughed. "I dunno, I think Neville stole a prank book from my dad during Christmas, last year. Do you still have that in your trunk?"

Neville frowned. "You know, I think I do..."

"Would you let me borrow it?" Alan asked.

Neville turned to stare at Alan, but Alan was serious. With a faint grumble, Neville shrugged and stood up. "Gimme a min..."

Harry watched him go and stopped his own work to stretch out. Alan draped himself over the wooden chair he'd taken and Harry paused mid-stretch to look him over. He didn't look half as worried as he'd been before either of the previous tasks, and Harry said so.

Alan shrugged it off. "I'm confident I can pass almost anything they could throw at me. Most of what I'm doing is brushing up and finding obscure spells – the most basic things I'd need to know to get through a maze I learned years ago just to keep falling into a trap in the hall." Alan snickered into his hand. "Seriously. The Alfaerus are notorious for making things difficult for each other, and a trapped hallway isn't out of the question in their school. And some of the things they bring home wouldn't be touched by the best paid Gringotts curse-breaker." Alan shrugged. "You learn how to get around."

Harry nodded and gave it a breath of time before he said, "I'm glad you like Neville."

Alan turned to look at him and shrugged awkwardly. "He's alright. Smart, definitely, and sharp. He learns really damn quickly and amazingly, he still has some sense. That's a new one, for me. Most of the smart people I know barely have enough common sense to fill a thimble. I think he's smarter than Amaranth."

"But not Louis." Harry grinned.

Alan glared at him. "Nobody's smarter than Louis. You want me to say he's smarter than your mom?"

Harry bristled and got the point. "Fine, forget I said it."

Alan smiled insufferably and was spared a hex by Neville returning with the book. He appraised the look of them and shook his head, dismissing their argument as silly and not worth his time as he sat back down with his own textbook.

Alan glanced over the book he'd brought and then looked at Neville's History of Magic textbook, propped up between him and the Gryffindor. He glared, and Harry glanced between Alan's irate attention and Neville's reading. Quickly, Harry put it together and realized he had another question he really needed answered. For the moment, however, he opted to confirm his suspicions.

"Neville... Why are you reading the History of Magic textbook? I thought you'd finished that last month."

Neville looked up and blinked, shutting the book for a moment. He startled at seeing it, and tapped the spine with his wand, mouthing several obscure words. The image flickered and changed to a Defence tome. He looked up at Harry. "Does that look better?"

Harry laughed away his shock and nodded, shaking with amusement.

"Pray tell," Alan asked, "what are you reading and... was that Favreau's again?"

Neville closed the book on his hand again and let the glamour drop for a moment, revealing a book on myths and legends before it went back up. "Yes, it's Favreau's Mantle again. I hadn't changed it from when I'd been reading during History of Magic, so... Are you still curious about me knowing it?"

Alan opened his mouth, closed it, and then asked, "How many spells of that level do you know?"

"Just the ones that caught my eye." Neville shrugged. "A few shields, the Patronus charm, and a few other spells." He paused uncomfortably. "Gremlin's Illusion Wall and Porrybaxter's Wall of Wings. Nothing else, at the moment. Those are the ones I looked up specifically, the rest I'm either not ready for, or just don't really care about."

Alan looked a little appeased; none of the spells were really extraordinary. Harry was sure he'd heard Alan talking about learning Porrybaxter's Wall of Wings before, and Harry also knew Alan had a more complete knowledge of the sixth and seventh-year spells than Neville did.

"I'd like to see what all you really know." Alan smiled. "Maybe we could practise together sometime. I've had difficulty with Porrybaxter's Wall."

Harry fought to stifle his snicker. Alan was trying to get Neville's help without indicating that he didn't know. Neville just nodded without any indication he knew what was behind his request – which boded well in them remaining friends.

"I haven't managed to get the Greenhorn Wall to work for me yet, so if you know that," he looked up and Alan nodded, "some help there would be nice. Maybe you could help me out with the last of those sixth and seventh-year spells."

Alan grinned. "Of course. What kind of Dark spells do you know, anyways?"

Neville gave Alan a blank expression. Harry could relate; it'd been awkward talking about those with Alan at first, much less in the Library. There was a ward up; Alan used those out of habit after last year. Harry paused, trying to figure out how to stop the stalemate. Alan knew all the spells he knew; he knew Neville had taught him some, especially out of the book they'd taken from the Black Library. Finally, after the silence grew uncomfortable, Harry just said,

"Neville taught me most of the Dark Spells I know."

Alan frowned. "Was he the one that taught you Fiendfyre?"

Neville outright snarled at him. "It's none of your concern!" He sent Harry a glare and began to pack up his books.

Alan frowned between them as Harry tried to shrink back into his seat, and said, "I'm not going to accuse you of anything, Neville. I'm just curious."

Neville stopped in the middle of his packing to sneer at him. "Yeah, curiosity. It nearly started a fire on my property when I first tried to cast the damn spell. You think it's smart to know Fiendfyre?"

Alan shook his head. "It's dangerous, yes, but it's not like it's stupid."

Neville glared past Alan to catch Harry's eye – Harry looked away quickly. "Depends on what you do with it," he said ominously. "Don't you have studying to do, Prince?"

Alan stood up with a faint nod and frowned at him. "You keep surprising me, Longbottom."

"Why," he snapped. "Because I'm a Gryffindor?"

"No," Alan didn't show any hint of discomfort at his tone, "because Light families don't usually go so far when they get curious."

Neville's shoulders relaxed slightly, and he said. "I've always been curious. I don't really care what the books are. I want to know what all's out there, and the 'Light' books don't cut it."

Alan nodded and suddenly glanced at his watch. He swore, brandishing the book. "When do you want this back, Neville?"

"Before the train ride home," he shot.

Alan nodded, saluted him with it and trotted out of the corner. Harry watched him go with an idle smile and turned back. He found Neville scowling at him.

"I didn't teach you just for you to bandy it about to everyone, Harry."

Harry shrugged, unable to meet his eyes. "He knew I knew it, Neville, and that it'd been something I was taught."

"So?" Neville tucked the book into his bag, his lack of stare now more uncomfortable than when he'd nailed him with his eyes. "That's not something you get to tell."

Harry nodded without speaking, his eyes prickling. Neville was right.

He shouldn't have spoken up.

A/N: Yeah. Way too busy with classes to keep this in order. I will finish out fourth year, and I'm very sorry that it looks like I may not get to Fifth Year in the foreseeable future; college is too much in the way. I'll keep it on hand and as an option, but there's no promises.

Thank you for reading and leaving a review.
Fire and Napalm