Learning to Lead Chapter 10: Caught

That weekend, Harry started to begin adjusting to a frantic life of early morning training sessions, war meetings, and, oddly enough, other lessons thrown in wherever the three masters could put them. In the decision to give Harry more responsibilities, it seemed they had come to the conclusion that the three of them were going to tag team the training more than anything.

Though it was only the third week in September, Harry had begun to wonder if time had slowed on him. Time seemed to drag by too slowly.

Harry also found that life among his fellow students had changed. Where the whispers used to start when he walked into or out of a room, his entrances were now followed by mostly silence. Snape had explained that in his role as Junior Commander for a quarter of them, idolatry was beginning to take shape. Harry scowled at the way Snape had sneered when he described what was happening. He hated the idea of being a "hero" to his fellow students almost as much as Snape hated watching the idiocy of it all.

The only other students who didn't seem to be afraid to talk to him were his leadership team, and a fourth year Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood, that Ginny had known growing up. He watched Colin Creevey pass and smiled, "Hey, Colin!"

For his part, Colin looked mildly surprised. "Aeter," he greeted, using Harry's apprentice name. Harry smiled gratefully. At least they had finally separated him from his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived. "Mind if I get a photo with you and Dennis later? I don't think-"

Harry waved his hand and interrupted Colin, "Sure, Colin. Have a great day," and he wandered away.

He finally caught up with the Weasley's in the Great Hall. "Ready for the first game? Also, how is it even legal that the Gryffindor team is literally over half Weasleys?"

Ginny snorted. "Did you know that I literally had to respond to an appeal of favoritism? Did I tell you that? The only thing that kept one of us from getting booted off was McGonagall's sheer desperation to have that cup on her desk."

Ron, for his part, looked queasy as he played with his breakfast. "Ron, mate, you have to eat," Harry told him. "The Hufflepuffs will be lucky to score even one goal against you."

Harry looked bittersweetly at the four Weasley siblings. He missed playing Quidditch desperately. He missed the excitement and adrenaline of gameday more than anything. But he knew that the war was coming hard and fast, and he already had so much on his plate, that there was no way quidditch practice and matches could have fit in.

"Aeternus," Harry jumped at his master behind him. After his customary greeting, Snape continued, "due to your unprecedented position, you're expected in the faculty box with me this morning. You may reconvene with your friends later. Good luck, Weasleys," Snape barely held back a sneer. They knew he wanted to keep the Cup as much as McGonagall wanted to win it.

After reassurances, Harry quietly followed his Master away. Not glancing at Harry, Snape spoke again, "Master Sterling will be present at the matches. While Ferraldin will be seated with the students, Sterling would like a word with yourself and Terran. While I'm not certain exactly what he would like to speak about, I have some ideas, and I don't anticipate Ferraldin will be pleased when he finds out."

"Yes, Sir," Harry agreed quietly.

"You miss quidditch?"

Harry nodded. "Dearly, but it's worth it."

Snape didn't respond, as he pushed open the castle doors.

As the match began in earnest, Gryffindor taking control of the Quaffle immediately, Harry waited for Sterling to speak. "Aeternus, you have impressed us with what you have done here. We are confident that, on most of your content, you've surpassed not only the second year expectations, but some of the third year, as well. While in some places, you remain where you should be, you have proven your worthiness. Terran as well."

Both boys nodded and thanked the man before a loud cheer arose from the Gryffindor side of the stands, and a low groan from the Ravenclaw. Gryffindor had scored. "Sir, I hope you're right. I look forward to finding out at the end of the term."

Sterling shook his head. "Aeter, we need you to focus on the war effort, here, and not Latin. The Board has a proposal for your masters, but we will not pursue it without your blessing."

Harry and Terran waited. It was bizarre enough that the Head of the Board of Masters was here to ask for their approval, it seemed poor form for him to speak. Terran was content to follow his lead.

"We will be gathering a significant number of masters next month to update them on the war, and to reassess who needs to be posted where. Many have already been invited. However, we will also propose that eligible apprentices may select tests for which they are ahead of their peers and attempt them early in an attempt to move more apprentices toward fighting Voldemort."

Harry gaped. "Sir, this has never-"

"We are aware," Sterling interrupted. "While we like our pomp and circumstance, a quick end to this war is crucial. Those who pass now will have Emergency Masterys, and the official awarding will take place after the war. We are working out the details still."

Harry nodded in understanding, watching as Ron blocked a shot by Terry Boot.

"We are allowing this decision to rest with you, Aeter," Sterling said quietly. "Most apprentices who are assigned to the War would come to Hogwarts through the floo daily and you would be responsible for them. We would expect that you and Terran would pass most of your second year exams, and some of your third year exams, too."

Harry was speechless. "Sir, I'm not sure-"

Terran interrupted, "Aeter, now is not the time for your humility." He turned to Sterling. "You need us, as leaders of the Junior Guard, to commit, or else the Board risks looking foolish for offering the opportunity that we wouldn't take." Terran did not ask, but stated the fact, looking to Aeter. "Sir, I will, of course, do as the Board wishes, though I will be seeking Master Silverwood's advice on which tests to undergo."

"Thank you, Terran," Sterling nodded and both turned to look at Harry.

Harry was silent for another moment. "If the Board needs me to promote this potential, I will participate on one condition."

"I will do my best," Sterling motioned for Harry to name his condition.

"I will participate in the full set of tests after the war, to the Mastery's traditions. I will not receive my Mastery as a de facto awarding, even if that means I take some of the tests more than once."

Sterling nodded. "You have my word." He settled back to watch the Quidditch match. "That Weasley girl of yours is a phenomenal flyer."

Harry sputtered, "She's not my- I- she's very talented," he finished dumbly, ignoring the smirk on Terran's face. "She's not mine, though, Sir, and she would not appreciate that being said."

"Duly noted," the master smiled, not even glancing at the boys.

Gryffindor won the match with 350 points, Hufflepuff achieving a mere 40. Harry and Terran ran down to meet the Weasleys, meeting Ferral and Hermione halfway down. "Where were you guys? Hermione was trying to tell me that-"

What Hermione was trying to tell Ferral was never related, however, as Ginny and Ron chose that moment to come storming up to them exuberantly. "The party's going to be in the Room of Requirement tonight! Lee's got all sorts of stuff ready!"

"Party?" Hermione scowled.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron wheedled. "It'll be tons of fun, and it'll only be fifth year and up, with the exception of a few fourth years, like Ginny."

"I should have never come," Hermione groaned. "I should be telling McGonagall, but I can't get my friends in trouble!"

Harry nodded unhappily beside her. "Snape'll kill me."

"Don't forget Silverwood," Terran muttered.

"How did they even get a full bar in here?" Hermione muttered under her breath. "And how the hell do those Slytherins know how to tend bar?"

"And I really shouldn't be here," Harry groused.

Harry glanced at Ron and Ferral, noting their excitable expressions. He hesitated, feeling his self-control waning at his oldest friend's insistence. After Ron's exciting Quidditch victory, in a rare moment of goodwill, Snape, Saldor, and Silverwood had allowed their apprentices a full 24 hours from their commitments to celebrate with their friends, though they were expected in Hogsmeade tomorrow.

Ron was still loosely holding the glass out to Harry. "It's a toast, Mate! It's not like we're getting drunk or anything." Harry turned his glance to Terran and shrugged uneasily, but took the glass anyway, Terran taking a glass outstretched from Ferral, too.

"One toast," Harry agreed sternly, moving to join Ginny and Colin who were attempting to coerce Hermione. Hermione reluctantly accepted a glass of wine from Ginny, who was beginning to climb onto the coffee table, ignoring Hermione's protests to be careful.

Ginny raised her glass as the room fell silent. "This team has made me so proud today," Harry wondered if she wasn't already slurring her words slightly. "We are ahead of Slytherin's bid for the Quidditch Cup by 300 points! To Gryffindor!"

Any reluctance that Harry had faded to just a sliver of a doubt as he took in the general Gryffindor rowdiness and moved around the room, noting that, in fact all houses were represented. For several hours, Harry moved about the room himself, chatting with other students, accepting drinks pushed into his hands, and laughing boisterously. For the first time since his appointment, Harry felt a general acceptance by his peers, instead of awe.

It was already nearing midnight when the doors to the Room of Requirement slammed open to reveal Fletcher striding in. His stopped several feet in, allowing his eyes to rake over the students, as though inventorying who was here. His eyes locked with Harry's after a few moments, and Harry wasn't sure if he imagined the way Fletcher's eyes blazed with anger. Without a word to the students, Fletcher turned and left the room, the doors slamming shut behind him. In the quiet of the room, the lock clicked, unmistakably locking Harry in the Room with about 40 other drunk teens.

With a heavy sigh, he flopped down on the couch, "Shit," he muttered, as Terran did the same beside him.

"How drunk are you?" the other boy asked.

"I dunno, never done this before," Harry said. "I might be sick. You know he went for the Trio, don't you?"

Laughter bubbled out of Terran. "Sorry, shouldn't laugh. But you know some people call us the Trio, now, right? Or you and Ron and Hermione. But you're here. You mean our massssters," he drew out the s like a snake, and Harry's laugh was short.

"Should we help Ferraldin get us out?" Harry stopped laughing as he caught Ferraldin and Ginny attempting spell after spell on the door. "I think he knows they will be here soon, too. I think I'm gonna be sick," Harry muttered, before losing his dinner on the floor in front of the couch.

"Gross," Terran's nose was scrunched, though he made no move to leave the couch. "Why make it worse? I'll just wait for Silverwood to kill me here."

When Fletcher returned, about 45 minutes later, Harry wondered if it wasn't on purpose. Now that he had vomited, he was beginning to feel miserable, and thought that would be a punishment Fletcher saw fitting. Not only were the three masters with Fletcher, but the other Heads of House, too. Harry glanced at each face, trying to do so through the corner of his eye to avoid eye contact. Harry finally dared to look at the face of his master last, stumbling as he rose in a drunken attempt to bow. "M'master," Harry hadn't noticed that he was slurring his words before.

McGonagall ignored the tension between Harry and his master. "I have never been so disappointed in my senior students." Her eyes seemed to rest on Harry, too. "In all my years... Sorted students, you will be returning to your dormitories immediately. House points will be deducted based on House attendance at this soiree. You will each receive details of your assigned detention, once we've sorted out suitable punishments for each of you. Your parents will be notified."

As the Hogwarts students each left, Harry kept his eyes focused entirely on his shoes. He knew, and he did so anyway. His eyes glanced at the mess he had made on the carpet as they waited for Fletcher to return, noticing out of the corner of his eye that a pair of dress shoes had appeared.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "We will take our leave, and allow you three to handle your apprentices. I am most disappointed in you three," McGonagall glared.

"Thank you, Minerva," Snape nodded. "We will keep you updated on our decisions."

That didn't sound good, Harry idly realized.

As she left, Saldor spoke, causing Harry to look toward where he stood near Ferral, still closest to the door. "This is an infraction that I had not expected from all three of you," his voice was low. "This was amongst the most foolish activities you three could have- you threw our goodwill and trust in our face and have made us look like fools!" Harry could feel the tirade building and struggled with a response that could help.

"Sirs, I'm sorry," Harry began. "This was my fault! I shouldn't've-"

Snape snorted. "Save us the theatrics, Potter-" Harry staggered, Snape hadn't called him Potter since the summer day he became an Apprentice. "-we all know your-and your friends'- personalities very well. And this room is warded to record such frivolous activities. You hardly think this is the first underage party?"

Harry gaped. "You've been spying? What about trust?"

An eyebrow rose, and Harry knew he had spoken foolishly. "You got sick all over the upholstery. I can't trust you to hold a bucket right now. Now, before we leave, you three will clean this mess up. Others are not responsible for cleaning up after your mistakes."

The next morning, Snape woke Harry at six am, with a mean smirk on his face. "Come now, Aeter, we have potions ingredients to prepare."

Harry quickly found out that dicing and mincing potions ingredients was about the worst thing he could do hung over. The stench of the various ingredients left his stomach twisting in on itself more, and he stubbornly refused to allow it to empty itself into one of Snape's cauldrons.

"I have no idea what was going through that empty head of yours, Aeter," Snape quietly began, "but that was the dumbest thing you could have done."

Harry sighed. "It was only meant to be a toast. But then… the other students were acting like I was their friend again."

"They were drunk," Snape was brash. "You will never be just a friend to them again. You have your friends, but you were marked for greatness. Do not go chasing people who will never understand."

"Yes, Sir," Harry nodded, immediately regretting the action, as his head already pounded badly enough without the motion.

"Now, you seem to think I am upset about the party. You are hardly the first student, or apprentice, to let loose. I have dealt with enough fifteen-year-olds to know that you always find things you aren't responsible enough for.

"But those other students, the ones you so desperately want to be your friends, they now report to you in a formal way, and you hold a lot of war secrets. Secrets that people would do anything to find. I am angry at your indiscretion.

"You are still responsible to patrol Hogsmeade today. As are Terran and Ferral. As always, students with signed slips will be departing at eleven this morning. Until then, you will be harvesting ingredients with me in the Forest."