Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.

~~[q]~~

Between the Lines 2

Interlude, Ravenclaw House:

"So, we can conclude that if something strange happens in the next few weeks that revolves around Luna Lovegood, there is a higher than normal probability that Harry Potter is involved, right?"

"Yes, Terry, I concede that point." Su sighed, and shifted some parchment around. The Arithmancy problems weren't going to do themselves, but it had been two days, and Terry was still convinced that Harry was going to do something based on one conversation, which made things a tad difficult to complete.

"You think we ought to ask to join his secret club then?" Terry had a note of excitement in his voice.

"You don't know that he has a secret club!" Su hissed at him. For all that her House valued knowledge and learning, it was surprisingly difficult to get a Ravenclaw to change their mind when they were wrong sometimes.

(Each study table in the common room had their own individual Cones of Silence, but it was still easy to tell when people were arguing by body language alone.)

"Yeah, because if everyone knows, it won't be much of a secret, would it?"

The utterly illogical reply, delivered in a most sincere manner, made her want to thud her head on her desk. "I can't even tell if you're doing this on purpose any more."

"But it makes sense! Potter's making a secret army to fight Umbridge, that's why he's lying low for now, and Granger's not in it because she likes following rules too much!"

"And Weasley? Where does he fit in all this?"

"He's obviously in love with Granger." Terry made a dismissive motion with his hand, waving away the counterpoint.

"Terry, do you remember last year?" Su sighed.

"Yes?"

"When you were convinced you had discovered a new trend in Arithmancy, and then Tony and Padma and I all told you, independently, there it was just a coincidence, and then you still brought it up to Professor Vector anyway?"

"Yes?"

"This is one of those times."

"Is it?"

"Yes!" Su threw her arms up in frustration. "Honestly, you're as bad as Loony L–" Su stopped short, and slowly lowered her arms back onto the table. "Well."

"We might need to stop calling her that, huh." Terry noted, a tad bit more sombrely.

"Yeah, or we might bring the wrath of Harry bloody Potter down on our heads." Su sighed. The numerous rumors surrounding the Boy-Who-Lived, along with his general tendency to mostly not talk to people in general, had simply led many to just stay clear of him.

Cedric Diggory's death, along with the Daily Prophet's reporting, had further murkied the waters. Su herself personally didn't think that Voldemort had returned, but a dead body was a dead body, and that meant that trouble was brewing, somewhere.

"Better than bringing the wrath of the Divination Professor down on our heads," countered Terry, who had returned to his chipper self in a matter of seconds. "Did you see her expression when we asked Professor Usami how to–"

Su's face began to redden. "Excuse me, we? What do you mean, 'we'? You were the one who asked–"

"And you were the one who suggested consulting them in the first place." Terry pointed out, with an air of innocence. "Honestly, it's almost scary just how reasonable you can appear to be when you're actually this enthusiastic about–"

"Silencio." Su casted. She was beginning to regret confiding in her friend about her embarassing hobbies, even if he did share her interests.

~~[q]~~

Interlude, Hufflepuff House:

Susan Bones sighed as she listened to the many complaints about Umbridge. The Hufflepuff common room, located in the lower levels of the castle, was always warm, in temperature and lighting and atmosphere, but this time her heart wasn't quite in it.

Beside her, she knew Hannah would be feeling about the same thing, and so would Ernie, from a few feet away.

Receiving secret Defence training from Harry Potter himself had seemed to be a good idea at first, but not being able to tell others…well, it had been a good idea at the time, and in fact, she mused, it was still a good idea now, because she really didn't want Umbridge to come down on their heads, but the hush-hush thing was starting to wear on her.

Slightly.

Very slightly.

Then again, the excitement of being in a secret club for Defence outweighed that by quite a lot, which meant that effectively, nothing had changed. It was just something she had noted about her own thoughts.

("In the conversation, Wayne Hopkins cracked a joke, and Ernie and Justin laughed.)

She supposed she ought to offer and teach the rest, or at least those in her year, being second-best in the club next to Harry himself (though Neville was steadily improving), but then questions would be raised, and she did not like dealing with questions.

(Yet another reason why she didn't even think about trying to be a Department Head like her aunt.)

Her thoughts drifted slightly further.

Harry Potter knew spell deflection, a technique that even final-term Auror Academy trainees had trouble with.

There had been rumors that Harry was Albus Dumbledore's secret apprentice.

Harry Potter had slain a centuries-old Basilisk at the age of twelve.

And on the other hand...

There were whispers that it was Harry Potter that killed Cedric Diggory, for the glory or the gold or whatever.

The same people that believed this thought that Harry's claims of Voldemort returning was so that he, again, would be famous and/or needed. It was a grab for more fame, for political power, they said, and Albus Dumbledore, whose own prestige was beginning to dim, was in on it...

At face level, it seemed so normal, so reasonable, that even Susan herself could almost believe it.

And Harry himself had disappeared over the summer, not even turning up for Cedric's funeral in Ottery St. Catchpole, and then reappeared as if nothing had happened...

Hannah, in her one Gryffindor moment, had suggested that Harry Potter teach them Defence, and she had jumped at the chance to learn from, well, someone who had faced down and survived You-Know-Who.

She sighed to herself and tried to join the conversation.

Not that she believed it, but if Harry, of all people, was secretly evil, they were all doomed anyway, so she might as well get some good training out of it.

~~[q]~~

Interlude, House of Black:

Sirius Black had many faults. He was reckless and impulsive, and tended to do things without thinking, like a dog chasing after every car that drove past on the street. His emotions waxed and waned quickly and unpredictably, like fire in intermittent bursts of strong wind.

He carried with him an air of childishness, and flashes of teenage rebelliousness could sometimes still be seen. One could suppose it came with being a scion of Dark house that stood against all of his ideals.

Twelve years in Azkaban prison, in a place where every happy thought was drained from him, had led him to temper his faults somewhat, and given him a significant sense of self-reflection.

So here it was that Sirius Black was stuck in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the ancestral, unchanging home of the Blacks, where villages and later towns had sprung up around. Specifically, he was deep in its (magically expanded) library, leafing through tomes he had not since the previous conflict with Voldemort.

And he was doing this without complaint.

Because for all his faults, you could never say that Sirius was traitorous. In fact, you could actually say that he was loyal to a fault, so much so that he could not understand why anybody else would ever behave otherwise.

(Dark undercurrents of obsession and excess flowed in the Black bloodline, of which Bellatrix Black's madness was the most egregious example.)

For his many loyalties, his fiercest had been to James Potter, which later extended to his wife, Lily, and even later to their son, Harry.

And now there was something obviously wrong with Harry, and Sirius was worried.

(Quitting Quidditch? When he had enjoyed it for the past four years without complaint?)

There had been a look on Harry's face as of late, as he had seen in their recent mirror-calls. It reminded him, not of a traumatized child, but of the weary expressions of the members of the Order of the Phoenix, in the twilight days of the previous war.

Harry had went on a tirade, and Sirius had let him, only trying to gently shunt him in a less negative direction. It was all he could do across a mirror–had he been around physically he would have escalated things until an explosion released all that pent-up tension, but without his direct supervision, he did not want to risk it.

So now, apart from thinking about the right words to counsel his Godson, Sirius was simply trying to find spells that would help Harry to survive. It was what Harry had asked of him, and all he could do, at least until Christmas.

He opened another book (gruesome blood sacrifice, again), and flipped through it. It was all principles and concepts–useless again, for his purposes, and he swore as a page of the old tome detached itself and floated to the ground.

Closer inspection revealed that the paper wasn't a page, but a note with very familiar handwriting.

When in Morgana's name had Lily Potter been allowed into the Black Library, and why hadn't he known about it?

~~[q]~~

I thought I would try branching out from Harry's perspective a bit more, so here we are.

Review please!