AN: This took this long because of life and plotting. I think I've reread what I already have like ten times to establish what points I made and what points I didn't, to clump together all loose ends I have so far, to collect all info about my characters. Then I looked at it all and had zero ideas how to move forward, even though I already have many future points already figured out. It's a bit of a paradox, but it do be like that sometimes. Anyways, I realized the only way to get forward was to actually write, and so I just wrote. It took me a while to get a hang of it, but in the end, I succeeded because I really like this story. Because of that, this might look like a long chapter of nothing, but it is what I needed, and I tried to wiggle some important stuff into it. If anything, I had fun writing it. Not a big fan of long ANs, but I had a feeling that I needed to explain myself, and so I did. I'm a bit happier because of it so bear with me.

Another in his Place

Harry woke up with a yawn, a bright summer sun shining through the rich, but not overly quality curtains, right onto his face. His rented muggle room was a mess and only a few streets away from the Leaky Cauldron, and he frowned at the sight of it.

Potion ingredients, books of all topics, and old newspapers, all lying around in no particular order, and adding to the odor of the room that was not helped by his own sweat. He made his way through all of it, not bothering with cleaning and once his morning routine was done, headed out.

It was strange how he never noticed it before, but Muggles indeed seemed odd. Always rushing somewhere, always frowning in the chaos of shouting, honking, and breathing, and with not many happy faces around on this particularly hot Tuesday. As he slowly strolled down the street, they were like a tide around him, streaming in all directions, but never bumping into him, as even now, he reckoned, there was something to his appearance.

He didn't think about it, but he outgrew his clothes and didn't entirely abandon his wizardly sense of fashion which made him somehow odd in the street of thousand different outfits. His long cloak, charmed to cool him down, was striding behind him with little wind that summer allowed, and in the midst of all colors, his black and gray stood out like a Hippogriff in a Quidditch match.

But all things considered, better that than to be seen entering Leaky Cauldron in the muggle clothes.

On his way in, he politely nodded to the old barman and settled in his usual corner, trusting Tom to remember his rather simple order by now. Harry always liked the somehow shabby bar, and its usual customers, wizards and witches of all ages going about their business. It was a safe routine he ended up enjoying more than he figured he would.

This morning though, there was another younger person, which was unusual, and what was more, that once she noticed him, she offered him a wide smile and walked to his boot.

"Hello," she said and sat without a question. It was a witch he met in Hogwarts, Doe.

"Morning," he said, nodding in her direction and thanking Tom for the coffee he just brought him. "Do sit down, please."

Her smile turned sheepish at that. "Yeah, sorry about that. I just don't like sitting alone."

Harry shrugged. "It's no bother. What are you doing here anyway?" Harry was no stranger to coincidences, but he was curious. It was hard not to be.

"Looking for a job," she said and sipped her tea. "Professor Dumbledore was supposed to help me in that regard, but you know, he's a busy man."

"Ah, yes." Harry nodded towards the newspapers, where the Dark Mark hovered menacingly at the front page, over the house Harry did not recognize. "I've heard he is helping the ministry to make something out of it."

Doe's smile faltered. "Nasty business, that," she said and shook her head. "Someone ought to do something about it."

Harry cocked his head. "You don't think they are trying?"

"Not hard enough, obviously," she said, sighing. "I mean, how hard can it be to stop a bunch of terrorists."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, even though his eyebrow rose. "What do you think it is about?" he asked instead.

"Some wizards just like their egos stroked, what else? It's always been like that."

"You have someone in mind?" he asked and she narrowed her eyes. It was a small and short movement but Harry caught it and covered his surprise with another sip.

"It's not the safest topic, you know?" she said quietly, glancing around them, but there was no one close by. Not for a few tables. "And I won't point any fingers either."

"Fair enough," Harry said. "Could be a good thing though."

She had a face as he had slapped her. "You—You don't mean that!"

Harry scowled. "Not like that. It's just that people now notice the ministry's incompetence and might change things in the future. It's always wars that force people to change the quickest."

"War?" she said, her voice trembling a bit. "Who said anything about the war?"

Harry hesitated. He said too much, as usual. "People talk," he said in the end. "And I can't say I like much of it."

She smiled nervously at him. "Aren't you a bit young to think like that?"

Harry gave her a blank look. "And what's the right age to be concerned?"

"You don't have to be," she said and scoffed. "You're a Pureblood, aren't you?"

"I am." He slowly nodded. "But I'm not concerned about myself."

"Who, then?"

"You," he tried and congratulated himself when her eyes widened. "Many others."

"Then… Will you do something about it?"

Harry blinked. "About what?"

She opened her mouth and then closed them. It seemed she realized only then that they were actually strangers and that she might have given away something. It was like a turmoil of feelings in her eyes that finally settled at caution. "You're a strange one, aren't you?"

Harry smiled at that, all teeth. "One of my best qualities, I'm afraid."

"Mhm." She gave him up and down. "I'm not quite sure."

Harry was about to reply but he was interrupted by a shadow over him. "Meadowes," Frank Longbottom said, frowning at her, and then at Harry. "What are you doing here?" With him? He left unsaid.

"Oh, hi Frank. I'm just having tea with Potter here. Well, coffee in his case."

Frank slowly nodded. "I can see that," he said and glanced at Harry, fighting some sort of internal battle. "May I join you then?" he asked.

"Sure," Harry said with a shrug. "The more the merrier."

"Thanks." He sat down and let out a long breath, rubbing his temples. "It's been a long night," he added, nodding towards the newspapers. "And about to be an even longer day. I barely have time for coffee, and even now, Moody will kill me."

Doe punched him in the shoulder, something Harry noted and laughed. "Oh, you know him, always grumpy. He won't be happy with whatever you do."

"I suppose that's true," he said, and was about to add more, but stopped with a glance at Harry. He wasn't about to leave any time soon though. This was far too amusing. And useful.

"You know each other, then?"

"We went to school together," Doe said. "Both Gryffindors."

That explained it. "Huh. I wouldn't peg you as a Gryffindor."

She snorted. "I don't think I'd fit anywhere else. I've always been rather impulsive."

Longbottom chuckled. "That's true," he said and downed his new-arrived drink in a single gulp. "Anyway, I got to run now." He stood up and gave Doe a long look. "We'll see each other later?"

"Err, sure," she said, and Harry thought her smile was rather forced. "What was it? Eight?"

Frank nodded. "Eight o'clock sharp. Don't be late."

Harry watched him walk towards the floo, more than a few questions plaguing his mind. None easy to ask though. "Having a party?"

She looked at him as if she had forgotten that he was there for a moment, but quickly put on another, small smile. "Yeah, sort of. It's just catching up with a few of my old classmates, you know?"

Harry made a sound at that and sipped his coffee again.

"What about you? How does young Slytherin spend a summer?" she asked and raised her eyebrow, with a wicked sort of smile. "I've always wanted to know."

"Oh, you know," he said with a smile of his own. "This and that."

She snorted. "Of course. Being sneaky and mysterious is part of the charm of your house, isn't it?"

"You know us so well."

She smiled again. "But no, really. What are you up to?"

"Well, if you must know, I've got a party of my own to attend," he said. "Malfoys were so gracious to invite me to their humble abode."

She watched him blankly for a moment and then got into fits of laughter. "H-Humble? Malfoys? Please, Potter."

He chuckled. "You ought to see the letter they've sent me. I half-expected there'd be a peacock included somewhere on it."

"How do you even know Malfoys?" she asked, and Harry thought it too abruptly. It was like she really wanted to know. And that, Harry was sure, made this whole thing not really a coincidence.

"All Purebloods know each other," he said. "Old Abraxas is amusing."

She raised an eyebrow. "You on a first name basis?"

Harry laughed. "I wouldn't dare call him that into his face, mind you, but we are familiar enough, I'd say."

"You're a very interesting student, Potter," she said, watching him without blinking, with her head slightly cocked and her clumsy ponytail hanging at the side, drawing his attention away. "I wish I was invited by Malfoys when I was still in Hogwarts."

"Are you sure?" he said. Maybe it could be an opportunity. After all, he needed to learn how to play the game if he is about to be a major player. "You know, they say it's never too late. I could get you an invitation." He smiled the best he could. "It could be like a date."

She smiled at him, suddenly very pretty. "I might hold you to that."

"Please do," he responded. His coffee done and his business here concluded, Harry stood up, inclined his head at Doe, and added, "Until next time then."

As he strolled back to his summertime home, there was an extra hop in his step.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he opened the door and the fresh wind carried a pleasant smell to him. The smell of freshly cleaned things. It took him a split second to grab the wand and raise it, his eyes scanning the unnaturally clean room.

"Unacceptable." He heard the familiar voice coming from the bathroom. "Tarrying a good name of wizardkind like this."

Harry lowered his voice with a smile. "Mr. Malfoy?"

The old man showed himself in the doorframe and nodded at him. "Potter," he grunted. "Took me almost half an hour to find this… " His eyes scanned the room. "Abode."

Harry shrugged, still unable to conceal his smile. "It's safe and comfortable."

"Safe?" The man snorted. "What part of half an hour you didn't understand? And the less I say about comfort the better, I think. Now, never mind that." He took the seat on the sole chair Harry had in the apartment, and watched Harry with his eyes narrowed. "Where were you?"

"At Leaky Cauldron," he replied and leaned against the wall, for some reason not uncomfortable with the man visiting him. It almost made him snort. "Had tea with a friend."

"And you let me wait for that?" The man puffed. "Kids these days…"

"Not that I mind, Mr. Malfoy, but...what are you doing here?"

Malfoy's face twisted into a more serious expression as he took one of the books that were now neatly stacked on the pile, and listed through the first few pages. "It is good that you have engaged in some extracurricular work already. Every decent wizard does so, when the time allows such things, of course," he droned. "I wish I could say the same for my son, alas...but never mind that boy. I came here as a favor to our mutual friend."

Harry swallowed, and judging by the small smirk Malfoy sported, he noticed it. "What is it about?"

"About my invitation," he said and frowned. "It seems I acted rashly, inviting you before consulting with him."

"Oh," Harry said. "It's fine. I mean, I can just not come, it's not the end of the world."

Abraxas seemed amused by that. "Nevermind my mistakes, boy, but when I invite someone I expect them to show. This is no different."

Harry bit his lip. "Then what?"

"It appears that the ministry isn't satisfied with your innocence. You see, they really want to have someone to blame, otherwise, they appear weak—which they are—but that's not the point."

Harry's throat went dry. "Regulus…"

Malfoy waved his hand. "Orion got it covered, as do I. The fact is that someone needs to go down. Ah, take one for the team to say so. Not you, of course," he added, correctly reading Harry's face.

"Then who?"

"The boy will plead guilty and claim obscure poison, or some nonsense. It doesn't matter. He will be out in five years, tops."

"Who?" Harry repeated, gritting his teeth.

"Your friend, that unstable boy." He snorted. "Serves his father right, the ungrateful fool."

"A-Avery?"

Malfoy nodded. "He volunteered practically, once we told him what it's all about. You seem to have some loyal friends."

It made Harry's mind spiral. He didn't even talk that much to the older boy, then again, no one except Evan did. Harry felt no better because of it though, as this was the direct consequence of something he did. He sentenced him to five years in hell. "He… He'll do it for me?"

"For all of us, Potter," Malfoy said. "We need you disconnected."

"What do you mean?"

Malfoy hesitated, but then his eyes softened with emotion Harry couldn't recognize. "I've heard that you became a person of interest in Auror's office."

"What does that mean?"

"It means someone is looking into you. Who you associate with, where do you go, what are your beliefs...and more unpleasant questions."

"But you said you'll take care of that," Harry almost yelled.

"You will not raise your voice at me, boy," Malfoy said, his voice ice cold, and Harry could do nothing but nod. Even though old, there was confidence in Malfoy's narrowed grey eyes and Harry did not want to test him. Not yet. "Good. Anyways, I did take care of that. Which means that people looking into you are not reporting to the ministry."

"Who then?" Harry asked but he already knew the answer. It was just like Doe said, someone started doing something about the situation, outside of the ministry's jurisdiction, and Harry knew only one person who stood against Voldemort so openly. And the whole order he is about to form.

"Who indeed," Abraxas whispered. "They must know who you associate with already, and the word about that party at Rosier's would reach their ears sooner or later. Do you get it, boy?"

"They'll draw their own conclusions," Harry said, knowing it to be true. It's not like he looked particularly innocent. Even his own housemates avoided him.

"Precisely. But don't worry, though, I have a plan."

"You?"

Abraxas' mouth twitched. "Yes, me." He hesitated. "He… He cannot worry about every single person, which means that duty falls to me. We can do no good if we are under the magnifying glass." He stood up, walked to Harry, and put his hand on Harry's shoulder, giving him a piercing look. "I won't have more kids imprisoned or dead. Especially not my own kind."

For reasons unknown, Harry felt genuinely touched by that simple statement. "Thank you, sir," he said. "What's the plan then?"

"We all must do our parts. Yours will be to take the attention away from yourself."

"How do I do that?"

"By meeting new people, I'd wager," he said and chuckled. "You have a cousin in Gryffindor, and I heard my son mentioning a half-blood in your year in Slytherin. Spread your circle, Potter, and see what others have to tell. Absorb their stances, argue with them, even befriend them for it will do you good."

"Right," Harry said, not really convinced.

"I'm older and wiser, boy. And if I say that another perspective can give you more insight and knowledge then better trust it," he said in that pureblood no-nonsense voice, and Harry had to grin at it. Malfoy leaned closer as if there was someone watching them. "But most importantly, watch those close to the headmaster."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I can do that, sir."

He tapped Harry's shoulder. "Good lad," he said and turned around. "Don't be late on Saturday." And with that, he disappeared with a signature pop of apparition.

Saturday came, and Harry found himself standing in Malfoy Manor, in the most fancy dress robes he had ever worn, looking and feeling like a ponce. The first thing he noticed was that Voldemort was not there, which made him sigh in relief, but he kept his appearance and straightened his back.

The room was full of important people, both from ministry and Abraxas's circle. Even some from Dumbledore's circle. Some, like Rookwood, he recognized but many more he didn't, and the part of his brain wished Eileen was here, but he couldn't find her. Heck, it would've been better if Doe was here.

Another blond figure attracted his attention. The pair of them, to be precise. Both tall and regal, the man and woman held hands, and whispered something under their breaths, and judging by the man's expression, he was not overly satisfied. He strolled towards them, faking the confidence, and drew a sharp breath once he confirmed who they were; Bloody Lucius and Narcissa.

"Evening," he said, and Narcissa's eyes immediately darted towards him, her face changing into a welcoming, pleasant one. He knew from before that she wasn't bad-looking, but now, standing in front of her, he had to admit the woman was breath-taking. Perfect in any sense Harry could think of.

The corner of her lips tugged in an almost invisible smile, and Harry was pretty sure she must've noticed his thoughts somehow. "Evening, Mr. Potter," she said and Harry wondered how she knew his name. "It's a pleasure to have you here."

"Indeed," Lucius added smoothly, taking a step forward and offering a hand. "Father mentioned you."

They shook hands. "He did?" Harry tilted his head and did a smirk he practiced these days. A dangerous one. "He does me an honor, then."

Lucius approved of that with a nod. Of course, he did, bloody ponce, but then Harry remembered Abraxas not being the happiest with his son. "A rare honor," Lucius drawled, narrowing his eyes. He did not miss Harry's expression. "This is Narcissa Black. I believe you met her cousins?"

"I did," Harry said and smiled in her way, a much more relaxed one. "Their compliments don't do you justice, Miss."

She laughed softly, something he knew must've been practiced. "You flatter me," she said. "Regulus spoke well of you, of course, but Sirius remains unconvinced of your character. Strange, seeing as you are a Potter."

Harry shrugged. "We operate in different circles."

"That you do," she said, ever so slightly cocking her head. As they locked their eyes, Lucius slipped away, murmuring some excuse. Harry wanted to see what he was up to but was unable to unglue his eyes from Narcissa's.

"And your sisters?" he asked, finishing blindly. "Are they here?"

"No," she said, her face neutral as if made of porcelain. "Andromeda chose wrong, as you probably heard, and Bella is busy. Have you met them, perchance?"

Harry shook his head. "Didn't have the pleasure. I was hoping tonight…"

She raised an eyebrow. "Why? I don't think she ever mentioned you."

"She wouldn't," Harry said. "But I heard good things about her."

She frowned, and Harry thought it rather genuine. "Where would you hear…" Her eyes widened, for a fraction of a second. "Of course," she breathed out and seemed to look at him properly this time. She took it all in, his robes and stance, and her eyes stopped on the tip of his wand under his sleeve. "It's good that you came then, with all those important people around."

"Exactly my thoughts," he said and risked a step in her direction. She smelled warm, somehow, and it was a beautiful contrast to her cold exterior. Her slightly widened eyes never left his own, and her lips were a bit apart. He had no idea what he was doing. "I'm really glad I met you." And then, before he lost his nerve completely, he got himself lost in the crowd.

Talking to Abraxas wasn't wise, and he avoided the man. But he was invited here, and old crafty Abraxas wouldn't have done it for no reason, Harry reasoned. Which meant that he was supposed to meet someone at least. The prickles on his neck told him that he was watched, but by whom, it was impossible to say with so many people around.

Finally, he settled with a loner, who was sipping champagne from a tall elegant glass and glancing around with a bored expression on his middle-aged, bearded face. "Evening," Harry said. "It's something, this place Malfoys got, huh?"

The man chuckled. "Something?" he said. "There are bloody peacocks all over the place. Both literal and figurative."

Harry laughed at that, noticing that the man didn't offer the name. So he didn't either. "Yeah," he said with a nod. "It can be a bit overwhelming."

"You don't say," the man said under his breath, his eyes following the elder Lestrange on the other side of the room. "So you participate often in these...meetings?"

Harry raised a brow. "Meetings? he asked and added a bit of mocking to it, tugging his lips slightly. "You shouldn't really call them that."

"And why not?" the man said and it told Harry a lot. This wasn't his sort of thing. He didn't conduct himself properly, which in turn probably explained his loneliness. Which in turn was quite a bit suspicious. "Who cares?"

"More people than you think," Harry said easily, now also looking at Lestrange. His sons, though, were nowhere near. "It might even come off as a little odd."

The man met his eyes, and Harry saw hesitation behind them. A slight twitch of his hand only confirmed it. "Odd, eh?" he said, grinning. "There's a few oddballs at every party."

"True enough," Harry said, thought it over for a moment, and then reached his decision. "You ought to call them galas. Or political minglings that bore your pants off, if you're aiming for a comical angle."

The man gathered his brows. "And why would you tell me that?"

Harry shrugged. "I like mysteries of all sorts. It makes for good fun when it's unveiled."

"Unveiled?" the man asked with a scoff.

"They always end up unveiled," Harry said. "It's how things are."

"Heh, Potter," the man said. "I think I like you, boy."

"Harry took a sip, concealing a grin of his own, even if he did find it a little strange that he knew his name. "Don't judge me too quickly, sir," he said. "I may yet give you something to hate me for."

"I don't know about that," he said. "Hate is a heavy word. Too heavy, I think."

Harry inclined his head. It made him a bit uneasy how good he found himself at doing these things. Only a year ago, he'd scoff at galas and wordplays and politics, and now, well, he was up to the throat in all of them. He frowned. Perhaps deeper than he was comfortable with. "You got me there," he said with a fake smile. "But I'm not the one under scrutiny here."

"And I am?"

Harry cocked his head. "If I call for Mister Malfoy you certainly will be," he said, his voice low and gentle. "But as of now, I have no reason to do so."

The man smirked and made a move that showed the wand in his robes. "I reckon you're a tad too confident," he said. "I might decide to rectify that."

Harry eyed the wand so the other man could see it that he could see it, and leaned his hand forward enough, for his wand to slip a bit forward. "I'd love to see it," Harry said, his smile still in place. He hoped the environment and Abraxas' reputation would do the rest for him.

"I see," the man said, his eyes narrowing. His whole face shifted in something different. Not cruel per se, but determined maybe. Ready, if nothing else. "So what is it going to be?"

They looked at each other for a long moment. "Nothing, I think," Harry finally said, and they both hid their wands again. "I guess I don't care enough."

The man nodded. "Wise. Are you close with this lot?" he asked then.

It was all but an innocent question, and Harry cursed himself when he bit his lip, a dead giveaway that the man's keen eyes caught. "Close is exaggerating it," Harry said. "They are useful people, I guess. Well connected. And they like me well enough to shield me from whatever is coming."

"An interesting stance," the man said. "A clever one, I guess. I can see why you're Slytherin now. More than in one way."

"Thank you," Harry said with a smirk. It meant that the man most likely wasn't Slytherin. And that could mean anything. "I think I'll be going now."

"Sure," he said, "piss off, will you?"

Harry chuckled and went away, adding under his voice, "You shouldn't say things like that, either."

Harry was about to keep an eye on the stranger for a while longer, but it wasn't to be. A few hellos he needed to do to keep up appearances were enough for the man to slip off and disappear, and it left Harry with nothing more to do. What a strange evening.

He found Abraxas rather quickly. "Sir, I'll be off now," he said quietly.

"Already?" Abraxas raised a brow. "Eh, it doesn't matter really. We've done what we wanted."

Harry blinked. "We did?"

Abraxas scoffed. "Don't get overworked about it, boy. Sometimes it's just about being seen, you know?"

Harry didn't and he blinked again. "Are you sure, sir? Nothing else to do?"

Abraxas clapped Harry's back. "Nothing at all," he said, leaning closer to Harry. "Remember what we spoke about the other day."

"Yeah, hiding in plain sight and all that."

Abraxas smirked. "You'll get far, Potter, just stuck with me."

"Oh, I intend to, sir," Harry replied, his grin stretching a bit.

"Atta boy," Abraxas said and turned to greet someone else. Harry took it as a dismissal and turned on his heel, heading for floo.

He arrived early on the train, and Mulciber and Wilkes hunted him down in mere minutes.

"Have you heard about Avery?" Mulciber said as a greet, sloping down on the opposite of Harry. Wilkes sat next to him. "Seven bloody years."

Harry winced, but in truth, he already got over it. Avery chose it and that was that. Thinking more about it would only make him guiltier, and if he is to allow that, he'd get nowhere with his plans. "Someone had to go down," he said instead, his voice flat.

"We get that," Mulciber said, a nasty grin on his face. "But you gotta understand our position too. I don't want to be just the next sacrificed piece in…" He waved with his hand. "In whatever this is."

Wilkes cocked his head at him. "I don't like Dementors, Potter."

Mulciber nodded. "That too. You know I'm pants at charms."

Harry raised his hands, palms out. "I get it, alright, but it wasn't exactly my call. I've no idea how this thing worked with Evan around, but it's definitely going to be different now that he is away." Harry sighed, and the boys exchanged a loaded glance.

"Landed a cushy job at DMLE, didn't he?" Mulciber asked.

"Yaxley fixed it for him. Sorting cases for Hit-Wizards or some such," Wilkes added.

Harry raised his eyebrows. He had no idea about that. But it wasn't that surprising since he didn't hear from Eileen the whole summer. Evan claimed protection.

He hesitated, and Mulciber seemed to get through his expression. "She's with Fawley, I think. And Davis."

Harry appreciated it. A moment of silence stretched for a long moment, before Harry fidgeted a bit to the side, hoping the others would interpret it as nervousness. "Malfoy passed the regards from him," he said, looking both of them in the eyes for a few seconds. "Even more dangerous business this time around."

Mulciber rubbed his hands. "Out with it, then." Wilkes nodded.

"Dumbledore's got someone watching over me."

"We surmised as much," Mulciber drawled. "Out with it, I said."

Harry sighed. "We're the only ones who can watch Dumbledore for him," he said. "So while he watches me, you watch him."

Mulcibers' eyes bulged and he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

Wilkes did a translation. "He's Dumbledore," he said as if it explained everything. It kinda did. "We can't just watch him."

"I know." Harry nodded. "But we can get close to him in other ways."

"How?" Wilkes asked.

Harry smirked. "The hard way. Get close to people that are kinda close to him." They couldn't know that the bunch of Gryffindors would end up friendly with the headmaster, but Harry was more than aware. It was a golden opportunity he could not make himself miss. It might even save Sirius. It had the capacity to do tons of good. At least he repeated himself so, and besides, he deserved a chance to get to know them.

"You're gonna make us hang with Gryffindors?" Mulciber said, and Harry's eyes widened. He didn't expect him to realize it as quickly. "It ain't gonna fly with Slytherins. Not easily."

But Harry already knew that. "Regulus will help," he said. "You know how he is."

"I do, but do you? He won't like it either. With his blood traitor brother and all."

"What?"

"Haven't you heard?" Mulciber's smirk was all sharp edges. "He went to live with Potters over the holidays. Evan says old Orion took him out of the will."

Harry scowled. That won't make it any easier.

Wilkes cleared his throat. "How do we do it?"

Harry shrugged easily. "I put a charm in the compartment where that Macdonald girl is. We go in there and apologize."

Mulciber was looking at him as if he was a ghost. "Are you completely mad? And what charm are you talking about?"

"It's just a small enhancement that tells me how many people are in there, and once we step through it will block others out. At least it should."

"Who is she with?" Mulciber demanded.

"Evans."

Wilkes shook his head. "Another mudblood?"

Harry tensed a bit. It was time to try and rectify that little habit of theirs. "Yeah, you'll have to stop saying things like that too."

"You're going to make us into bloody muggle-lovers, Potter?" Mulciber said with a sneer.

"Not muggle," Harry corrected. "Muggleborn. And you said last year that she isn't a bad witch. Evans probably got more OWLs than you too."

Mulciber's expression darkened, but he grinned nonetheless. A wide one that scarcely reached his eyes that glinted even more than usual. Had Harry been anybody else, he'd have gotten scared right then and there, but he played this game with Voldemort himself. He wasn't afraid then, and he wasn't to be now. Their staring contest lasted for a while, but then Mulciber let a heavy sigh out. "She ain't bad on eyes either," he muttered. "What do I say?"

Harry laughed. "How about you apologize? Really, 's not that hard," he said, and Wilkes snorted. "The word you're looking for is sorry."

I think it's a real good idea," Wilkes said and Harry blinked, but then he remembered his mother was muggleborn. That made things more complicated. Or maybe easier. He'll just have to wait and see.

Mulciber gaped at Wilkes. "You fucking traitor," he said and punched him in the shoulder but there wasn't any real force behind it so Harry let it slide. He turned his attention back to Harry. "You owe us big time if we do this."

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Whatever you want," he said even though he thought the boy was a hypocrite. It wasn't like he chose this. It wasn't him who said that he was a boss.

The boy leaned forward, more than Harry was comfortable with, and said, "I want Avery not rotting in the prison, for one, but that won't change the thing, will it?" Harry stood silent. It wasn't a question so Harry offered no answer. "I've already told you that Avery looked after me since forever."

Wilkes shifted in his seat, subtly lowering his arms. "Yeah, what about it?" Harry asked, keeping his voice even.

"The thing is that my father had the same idea as Avery's but even then, Avery was a force of nature," he said, chuckled, and shook his head. "Father hinted at it, and little, eleven years old Avery stood up to him, in his own home and said no. He said that he would take care of my training once I come to Hogwarts."

Harry just started, preventing his mouth from gaping.

"He somehow made his father threaten mine and Merlin knows how, it passed. That's probably the only reason why I'm not next to him right now. Do you understand that, Potter? You weren't around long enough to catch all the little things, even if you did adapt well." He was on the roll, and even Wilkes was nodding along now. "You know all kinds of people you have no reason to know. You know so much that I suspect that you were eavesdropping during the first four years on pretty much everyone."

Harry's mind was spinning. He never even entertained the thought that someone caught up on him. It was hard to remember if he slipped anything at all, but it seemed that he did. He bit his lip.

Mulciber pointed at Wilkes and then at himself. "As far as I know, only the two of us realized it properly, and we never asked questions. But that doesn't mean they aren't there."

Harry went with a bluff. "Ask then. No one is forbidding you to."

Mulciber grinned with no humor in it. "Your wand is, Potter," he said, and Harry saw that he did so grudgingly. "You could probably take both of us at the same time. You're a scary fucker, even if you don't realize it half the time."

Harry tugged the corner of his mouth. "Then why are you pushing me? You ought to know better by now."

Mulciber laughed. "You even made Evan piss himself last year. You threaten him with his name. How many teenagers can pull that shit off?" He shook his head, chuckling. "You spoke to him, what, thrice now?"

Harry gritted his teeth. The topic was not his favorite if he was honest. "Get to the point."

"Whatever I want, eh?" He glanced at Wilkes and the other boy nodded. "I want a bloody vow."

Harry made his face blank, devoid of any emotion. A hundred thoughts rushed through his mind but one was the strongest. He was getting himself deeper and deeper. His eyes were firm on Mulcibers' own. "I thought we were friends, Mulciber," he said quietly.

Mulciber just snorted. "Yeah, go hug a fucking Hufflepuff. We can be friends with a vow all the same."

Harry offered his arm and Mulciber took it with a wide grin. Wilkes' wand was already out, and he softly said, "Will you do all in your power to protect the two of us from both your enemies and friends—even from Lord Voldemort—if needed?"

The golden line connected their hands with magic that Harry never felt. It was as cold as the November rain and as strong as steel. Unyielding. Cumulative. Harry could feel it twisting its way into him, somewhere deeper than the body itself. If there was such a thing as a soul, Harry was sure that it was entangling it with all its might.

"I will," he breathed out, and something inside him locked.

"And will you do so freely, with any force at your disposal, magical, political, or otherwise?"

This one was trickier, but Harry couldn't stop another angry line, wire-like, wiggling its way around his hand.

"I will."

"And if it all fails, if there's no stopping us going to Azkaban, will you kill us before it comes to be?"

Another line like the others. Harry swallowed, landing his wide eyes on both Wilkes and Mulciber. He thought them joking, but there was nothing in their eyes to confirm it for him. No, they were slightly narrowed, but even more determined. He knew that they must've talked it over million times, and for the moment he wondered just how much would a Dementor bother them. How actually messed their heads were. But, as sad as it was, he already knew the truth. He was just as bad.

And here he thought that they were just a bunch of teenagers. Boy how wrong he was.

"I will," he said, and the magic flashed, and just like that, it was done. Done and final. He could feel it somewhere deep down, ever-present and kind of warm. He doubted he would ever forget it. Hesitantly, he untangled his hand from Mulciber and looked through the window.

"We could've talked about this," he said. "I didn't choose this."

"We know," Wilkes said and there was something like regret in his voice. Harry appreciated it. "But this way we all know the stakes."

"Meaning that we know that we could get killed," Mulciber said, also looking through the window. "But we don't want to die."

Harry snorted. "So you made a vow that will make sure I kill you?"

But Mulciber shook his head, still serious. "It's not that, mate," he said. "It's that we trust you. In you." And if that wasn't the nicest thing anyone ever said to Harry… Only Ron and Hermione made him feel like that in the past.

"I believe you," he whispered and it was true. When he was Gryffindor, Hermione would just hug him, and Ron would put his arm on his shoulder, and it would have been enough. Obviously, the way you do the same in the Slytherin was with a vow that can kill you.

It made him laugh.

Mulciber glanced at him. "You're off the rooker, Potter," he said, grinning all the same. Even Wilkes smiled a little, but it might have been just the twitch of his mouth. He took it as a win all the same. His life was something else before, but now this was it. This was his lot. This and Eileen.

Wooing Gryffindors they left for Hogwarts.