AN: A few more chapters and this school year should be concluded.

Gaps and Laps

The Great Hall became dourer during the meals; it was like every single student was aware that there was a secret going on, but none were privy to the actual context of it. Even the sitting schedule was different. There were gaps visible to anyone who paid attention, and Harry was more than aware of Dumbledore's eyes passing over one of them, the one that happened to begin at a spot next to Harry.

Fourth-year girls used to sit there, well-distanced from Regulus and his suite, and sometimes shily smiling at him, but ever since they've got back, they found a new place for themselves. Next to a sixth-year girl who Harry knew as a Farley.

Mulciber tracked his eyes, and his lip curled once he saw her. "Elisabeth, if you were wondering," he said. "Her father is high up in the Department of Magical Transportation, but no one knows what exactly his job is."

Harry frowned. "Then how do they know he's high up?"

Mulciber went over his teeth with his tongue. "They're old gold." His eye tracked the girl in a way Harry didn't like, and it seemed to him like he saw her like no more than a pray. "Some positions you work for, others though, you pay for."

Harry humphed, and glanced at the girl again. She most certainly did not look back, but Harry thought her smile rather forced, and saw some tension to her shoulders. Once, he'd be mortified to be the cause of such a reaction, but those were happier times, where he was both hero and villain, depending on what suited the public. Now, it seemed everyone agreed on the villain, but how exactly it came to be, he was at loss.

Of course, it was Regulus who filled the gap; The boy dropped in the empty seat with an elegance of a hippogriff and started filling his plate with so much food Harry almost got worried about him.

"Rough night?" he said under his voice, loud enough only for him and Mulciber to hear.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes so hard that the pale skin around them got red, before they slowly lost color to their usual one. "You could say so," he said in a friendly voice Harry was used to. "But the superior pair of Potter and Black does not bother itself with such muggles notions." He clicked with his tongue. "Tiredness." He shook his head. "We got work to do."

Harry ignored the remark, but Mulciber seemed to find it more than interesting, and it made him wonder if Regulus had done so on purpose, as yet another way of messing with his head. He rubbed his temples and sighed. "When I get something to share with you, I'd be more than happy to do so," he said and narrowed his eyes, slowly and deliberately. "Until then, piss of!"

It made Regulus chuckle in between his mouthfuls. "Or what?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. "Do you want to find out?"

Regulus' smile remained, but the humor left his eyes, which dropped down the table, to Mulciber, whose smirk became just that much wider. "I'm not sure, Potter," he said. "My heart says yes, but…my brain seems to be smarter in that regard." He shrugged carelessly. "I'll settle with maybe."

Harry rubbed his temples again. "What do you want?"

"I want us to be friends. Share secrets and such." Then, he winked at him. "Maybe more? No? Ah, pity." He was done with his plate and went to stab a bit of Harry's bacon, but he was quick enough to catch his hand in the midair.

"We'll be friends until this is over and done," he said quietly, but in a way that everyone heard him anyway. A nifty trick altogether, and he tightened the grip around Regulus' arm.

"And then?" Regulus asked, and it actually seemed that the boy was excited about the prospect.

Harry pointed at him and then at himself. "Then we settle this between us, and either way, we don't talk to each other anymore."

Regulus scratched his cheek. "I'm not sure I'd like that outcome. You do make a most interesting interlocutor."

But then Harry got an idea of how to finally get rid of him. "Tell you what, I got potions now, and I'd like to prepare for them. The concoction we are about to brew is of utmost importance." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Mulciber's brows disappearing into his hair, but forced his face even and calm.

Regulus was happy to hear that judging by his ever-growing smile. He leaned in and said, "Tick-tock, Potter, tick-tock." He spread his arms and then yelled for the whole hall to hear. "And then, ladies and gentlemen, a grand finale!"

Most dismissed him, but Harry saw Sirius carefully watching his brother, following his movements with his face grim and serious, a great rarity.

All in all, potion time. He stood up, waited for Mulciber to catch his intention, and then left Great Hall.

Harry waited for Slytherins and Gryffindors to leave the classroom before making a move, so he just sat, and made his moves sluggish and slow.

Eileen was out before he even noticed, but that much he already expected. She grew distant over the past few weeks, much to his dismay, and even more to Wilkes' never-better mood.

Even if he hoped he and Mulciber would not notice anything amiss, they did, and Mulciber winked at him as he got his bag over his shoulder while Wilkes' eyes lingered on Harry for a few seconds, before they settled on professor Slughorn, which in turn made him frown. Deeper than usual.

Luckily, Mulciber had more tact about him, and pulled the other boy away, still smiling as if he got the whole situation figured out.

Harry hoped he did not.

"Mr. Potter," Slughorn said once they were alone, with his signature jolliness plastered all over his chubby face, a picture nicely rounded by his oiled mustaches with not a single hair amiss. "Your work was concise, and on point, as usual. Mind you, without the genius Mr. Snape and Miss. Evans apply, but, heh, that's to be expected."

Harry nodded and put on a pleasant smile, dropping all pretense of collecting his staff, and approached the professor. "It's not my best discipline, I'm afraid."

"Indeed," Slughorn said and chuckled. "Youth is more appreciative of the flashiness of charms, and say, defense, which leaves them quite grumpy at the face of fairer smells we usually manage to produce here in the dungeon."

"Yeah," Harry said lamely.

But the professor continued his speech with the same tempo. "Those are, if I'm informed correctly, your very best fields, no?"

Harry nodded, his smile a touch more sincere, and Slughorn went to sniff one of the numerous cauldrons that simmered in the background of the classroom. Harry followed him.

"Very important, of course, especially as your OWLs are approaching, but there is more to magic than waving a piece of stick, isn't there?" He turned around, and his smile got more gentle, his eyes narrowing with wrinkles in their corners. "But I suppose you already know as much."

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say, and cleared his throat, ready to start what he came to do. "Actually, I've got a question about potions."

"Oh." Slughorn's smile became almost too wide for his round face, and he rubbed his palms together, like a villain Harry remembered from cartoons of another time. "Ask away, then, don't make the old man wait."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, and then he started, "Err, it's all experimental. But I was wondering about the potions that, at middle stages, are already certain in their properties and value."

Slughorn twirled the end of his mustache and prompted Harry to go on with his other hand. "More precisely, at what point can I conclude potion as successful, and leave it be, if what is done is all made correctly?"

"So it's about shortcuts?" Slughorn mused, and shook his head a bit as if he expected more from Harry. "No potion is certain, much like a spell isn't once it leaves the tip of your wand. In academic circles, one can speak about certainty only once our product is in the past, and our results recorded."

"Right, but theoretically, the potion would turn out proper if left to be, once its quality is ensured by its current state?"

"Not quite." Professor shook his head with a grimace. I found the hard way, that you should never leave potions to simmer on their own. Impurities, outer effects, the magic's quirkiness...it's all too chaotic to speak about certainty. It's the way of magic, my boy, to evolve and change, and because of it, if we talk science, magic will always surprise you in new ways."

It all made Harry gulp, and the professor took note of it, his smile faltering for the first time. "But we are not talking potions, are we?"

Harry took a seat and didn't meet Slughorn's eyes. "No, professor. It's just..." he tried a smile, but it turned out rather weak. "OWLs... and everything else."

Slughorn moved unto the second cauldron, his voice much more serious. "Pardon my straightforwardness, but are we talking politics?"

Harry bit his lip. "Some, Sir. You know how Slytherin house is."

He dryly chuckled at that. "Better than you think, my boy. It's been so ever since my time, and that alone is ancient history." Harry had to laugh at that, and the professor joined him for a short moment before he continued. "Wizards are peculiar species, which live in both the future and the past, but always forget about the importance of the present."

"What do you mean, professor?"

He gave Harry a sad smile. "We cry about grievances of the past, all while we think about changing them in the future. And who suffers for our ambitions? Who is ensnared with our inability to forgive and forget?"

"The present," Harry muttered and looked at Slughorn in a whole new light.

"Just so," he said. "I forgot, and I forgave. My ambition is made true through the success of my pupil, and I hold them in the highest regard..." Harry wasn't even sure that this was meant for his ears, but nodded along nonetheless. His task suddenly felt thrice as hard, and his throat went dry.

"So, err, about certainty?" He managed at last.

"Nothing is certain, but magic and death, Mr. Potter," he said in an all professor-like tone. "Everything dies, but magic lingers still. It's the way of the universe."

Harry felt it was a dismissal, and stood up, ready to leave. Only once he got to the door, he figured the words might have had a deeper meaning. With a frown, he turned back to the professor, and found him looking straight back at Harry. Once their eyes met, Slughorn's lip tugged a bit, and he nodded at Harry, in what the little voice in his head said must've been approval.

Nothing is certain, the thought plagued him in the emptiness of the hall. Nothing. What about his baby self defeating Voldemort? Is he, in the end, to take a bigger role in incoming madness? It made him gag, and the food from his stomach threatened to enter his mouth. He felt dizzy, but the smallest part of him, for reasons unknown to him, which made him feel disgusted with himself, was actually excited about the prospect.

You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head. But he doesn't want to be great. It made him think about what he wanted, and to his dread, his head turned out empty; all he liked was in the future, and if he was to be completely honest with himself, it's not like he ever planned on making it to adulthood. Not with Voldemort hanging over his head like a sharp ax, always ready to fall on his neck

In the chaos of his mind, his legs dragged him on their own, and he was surprised to see they delivered him at the constant he forgot about, but that was still here, same as he remembered; Hagrid's hut.

He took a deep breath and knocked, and counted to three before the giant wooden door opened only to reveal even more giant man. He was the same Harry remembered. A gentle face was hidden behind the forest made of his hair and beard, and his dark brown eyes going over his face in slight confusion, but with no ill meanings.

"Hello," Harry said in the same moment he heard from inside: "What's up Hagrid? Who's that?"

He recognized James' voice and was about to slip away, but Hagrid was already dragging him in, saying, "'S your cousin, James. Harry, is it?"

"Yeah," was all he was able to say, while Hagrid pushed him down on the bench, right next to Lupin. On the other side of the bench, Sirius, James, and Pettigrew watched him as if they had seen a ghost, saying nothing, their mouths slightly agape.

"Hi," he said in a small voice, and they all tried to respond at the same time, creating a chaos of noises that were supposed to be questioned.

"Aight, that's enough," Hagrid said in his booming voice. "Everyone's welcome here! Ye hear me?"

"I'd think twice about this one, Hagrid," Sirius said with his eyes narrowed, and his hand disappeared under the table.

Harry decided to be honest for once and rubbed his forehead. "We can be friends for one afternoon, right? I just needed some peace."

James snorted and Pettigrew giggled. "What would you want peace for? S'not fun at all."

"He just spoke to Slughorn." Lupin surprised him, and not in a good way. If he noticed… The word might yet catch Dumbledore. "Everyone would want some peace after that."

"What did you want with him anyway?" Sirius asked, not joining in the antics of the group.

Harry blinked. "He's the head of the house. Internal grievance, I'm afraid."

"Internal grievance," Pettigrew repeated in a mocking voice, and others snickered again. "I'd be exhausted all the time had I had to talk like that."

Against his will, Harry snorted. "Welcome to Slytherin house."

"Welcome, huh?" Sirius remarked with a nasty grin on his handsome face. Pettigrew shifted in his seat.

"And what will welcome us? A grand finale, perhaps?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry said.

"We've all heard my lovely brother this morning," Sirius said. "So what is this grand finale all about?"

"No offense, Sirius, but your brother might not be fully alright in the head," Harry said and forced a smile, but both Lupin and James laughed, and Harry felt some tension going off.

But Sirius was still grinning in his nasty way. "You figured that first-hand if my father is to be believed."

Harry paled a little. "Slytherin business. All set and done now, though."

"Yeah, let it go, Sirius." Harry was surprised to see James backing him up, and felt something in his stomach he quickly squashed away. "Anyways." He turned to Harry. "Where did you spend the break,"he asked and then quickly added, "mum was curious, is all."

"At Rosiers," he said with a shrug. "Evan invited me."

"Right," James replied. "Was it fun? Any, err, parties?"

Harry glanced sideways only to see Pettigrew again shifting in his seat, and the rest, even Hagrid, listening closely. "There was a sort of welcoming party," he started slowly, judging their reactions, "there's this guy that they all know from somewhere. And he just returned from abroad." HE shrugged modestly. "A nice fellow."

James and Lupin succeeded in keeping their expressions neutral, but Pettigrew looked as if he wanted to run, and Sirius gaped like a simpleton, his eyes wide. "No," he let out.

It was Hafrid's expression he missed, and the one that got him most. He was looking everywhere but at Harry and had a bad air around him, his face as if someone kicked his puppy, but with something more primal deeper. It was unlike anything Harry considered a gentle giant to be capable of and it made him afraid.

"Dumbledore wouldna want me sayin' this to yer," he said quietly. "But tha' fellow's a bad one, eh? One o' the worst. Rotten as they come."

"Why wouldn't Dumbledore want us to know?" James asked, and Harry felt like he already knew the answer, and it made his stomach tight.

Hagrid glanced at him, and then looked back at James. "Yer been followin' news?"

James slowly nodded.

"There ain't many folks 'round to pull that off. And he's one of them."

"No," Sirius whispered, horror over his face. "But I thought-"

"Nothin'," Hagrid intercepted him with another glance at Harry. "Yer thought nothin' at all."

Sirius nodded too, and Pettigrew and Lupin exchanged the look, none of them looking at Harry. They didn't say much when he stood up either, and during his way to the exit, he felt more alone than ever.

Unwelcome. Always unwelcome. Judged through how much he can do for the others. If useless, then he's imposing, and wasn't that a cheery notion. His walk back to the castle was slow and cold. And alone. In the whole scenario, it seemed he really had but one friend, and she wasn't very eager to speak with him at the moment.

Couldn't they all figure that all he wanted was to help?

And yet they all thought him a villain because of people he hung out with. It wasn't like he asked to be Slytherin, or even to be here, but it couldn't be helped. Not by him. Not by Dumbledore, and certainly not by Voldemort.

Harry was just in time to raise his head to see the glimpse of the woman he ran into, and with her surprised yelp, they both stumbled down, in the litany of limbs.

"Ouch," he heard her say, and took a better look at her. His eyes, against his will, were glued to her very white and even teeth. She had a clumsy ponytail of black hair hanging at one side of her face, not quite in the middle, and dark skin. "Sorry," she said then, and stood up, flicking her wand and undusting them both. "Mom always says I ought to watch where I'm going."

"Uh, no problem, mam," he said, standing up himself and wondering if he had seen her before.

She snorted. "Mam? I'm not that old." And she wasn't. Not a student, for sure, but perhaps in her early twenties. "Anyway, I'm Doe." She offered a hand, her eyes shifting to his green tie in a split of a second, so fast he almost thought he imagined it.

"Harry," he said, accepting her hand.

"Potter, is it? You look like your cousin. More serious though."

"That's me alright," he said with a weak smile and realized she was in muggle clothes. His administration obviously lasted too long as she raised her eyebrow, but Harry shrugged. "Pureblood, remember?"

"Right," she said. "Anyway, I should be going."

"Where to?" Harry asked curiously, and then added when her eyes narrowed, "Are you our new professor?"

"Nope, you're not that lucky. "She flashed him a smile. "Just a chat with Headmaster Dumbledore."

It was his turn to narrow his eyes. "I see. Well, I'm not stopping you."

"You are not."

"I'm not," Harry agreed and took a step aside, letting her through. He watched her walk all the way down the hall and chuckled when she started to hop a little, as kids did back in Surrey sometimes.

"Doe," he repeated to himself. It tickled his mind in the most interesting way, and he was sure he ought to know who he had just met, but it kept evading him. What didn't, though, was that it seemed Dumbledore had already started calling people in and explaining to them what was about to come. Harry was sure Dumbledore already knew more than ministry, and it was only a matter of time before people started dropping dead left and right. Well, even more than now.

On his way to the dormitory, he still felt undecided, but once he entered, and saw Eileen frowning at him, he inwardly cursed, found Regulus, and promptly went to sit next to him.

"Potter," Regulus said, not shifting his eyes from the book he was reading. "How's the head of our house?"

"Well," Harry said. "On his way to become even better, though."

Regulus smirked a bit at that. "Mulciber and Wilkes stopped by before."

"Oh?"

"Said that coast will be clear, no matter what," he said, put the book down, and looked at Harry. "Said they already have a place." He folded his fingers in front of him and leaned his hands onto the table. "Were you talking with them, Potter?"

Harry sighed. "No. But they aren't stupid."

"And they have a clear idea of what they want." Regulus nodded along. "Nonetheless, it makes me a bit warmer inside that you've got such loyal friends. "

"I'd prefer them at your end," Harry said, keeping his voice calm and even. He'd prefer even more if they had come to him first.

"Exactly my thoughts," Regulus said with a wide smile. "We make a great pair, Potter. Excellent. Heh. Anyway, they promised to show me the place and everything, and promised not to share their business with Rosier and Evans."

Harry tracked his eyes all the way to Eileen and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want Rosier and Avery poking their overly large noses into our new friendship, simple as that," he said quietly. "They'll be leaving Hogwarts, come June, and they'll have much more to worry about. It's the two that will stay behind for a few more years. And of course, with plenty more to be done."

"What are you talking about?"

"About future. I'm a Black, you know?"

"I do."

Regulus' smile went wider. "Most Ancient and Noble."

"Yeah, whatever," Harry said, sighing, as he usually does when dealing with Regulus.

The boy leaned in, so close to Harry that he could feel his breath. "We hold ourselves in the highest regard," he whispered. "And we do not grovel like filthy muggles."

Harry felt his arms bristle. This was not a talk he wanted to be a part of, for it lined very close to the imminent death, if certain someone was to find out. "Regulus…" He let the warning in the air, but Regulus battled it away with his open palm.

"Not now, silly. You're powerful, Potter, I can feel it. And were you to learn certain some, you could become even more so. I'm not a slouch either. Just imagine it, Potter, us at our righteous place."

By now, Harry was completely sure that Regulus was utterly mad, and his mouth opened multiple times, with no sound coming out. He had no idea what to say to Regulus.

"Malfoy already hates his father," Regulus continued, "all he needs is a nudge in the right direction. Avery and Rosier like you more than you know, of course, and the other two are already in your pocket… It won't be long until he trusts us most, above all else, and then… Heh."

Was this actually Harry's chance? Was this the way to get rid of Voldemort if Harry's baby himself wasn't about to? He felt his head spinning, but forced a smirk on his face, and once Regulus saw it, his own widened almost painfully across his whole face. It was dancing with mirth.

"Not soon," Harry said. "Not fast. No half-measures."

"Nice and slow," Regulus responded. "See? I told you we were to be friends."

"Not quite there, Regulus," Harry said, and tapped the other boy on his back. "So. Slughorn."

"Right…" And they talked and planned some more, but said little of importance for it was all unsure until he could convince Slughorn to come where Regulus is about to wait. Harry still wasn't sure what exactly would happen and Regulus was tight on details, but he let it slide, for it wasn't his problem. He had just made his problem much much bigger.

It was much later when Harry finally got to sleep, and he dreamt of a brave girl, just and fair, being killed by Voldemort personally for her daring.