Notes. Happy (late) Halloween! Hope you guys had fun. I wanted to upload this earlier, but my current work-load made it impossible. Technically I still have a lot of work to get done, and since the semester is due to end in little over a month, it seems like all my subjects have joined forces against me. I may have to take another week off from updating soon, just a heads up (I'll post a small note on my profile if it comes to that).

Anyways, thanks for the support until now, and as always, thanks to everyone that's been kind enough to drop by, even is just to say hi.

Also, I was thinking of throwing in a small omake once this reaches 200 reviews.

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(ARC)

To Guest:

Ah, thanks. I had a laugh too while I was writing it.

Not quite sure about Snape and Kuja though, I think their relationship is more akin to two roommates that really hate each other (or rather, one poor bastard that really hates his roommate but knows there's nothing he can do but wait it out, and said roommate who just finds everything amusing).

I think more than actual mind magic, Kuja can teach Harry the real basics that are needed for Snape's part of the class (like calmness of mind or flexibility that may be required to efficiently deal with threats). Harry's main problem is that he's far too hot-headed. However, as you'll likely see in this chapter, that doesn't make Kuja an easier teacher to deal with.

I also agree with you. Harry's portrayal seems pretty unrealistic considering all the horrible stuff he's had to deal with. In the fifth book he at least shows some signs of mental trauma (like nightmares and such), but if you go back to the first books you get a small kid that's pretty chill to the idea of nearly dying horribly (not to mention immune to nightmarish things like a mass murderer's head growing out of another man's and then disintegrating). I still think it's extremely cruel to put so much pressure on a young teen that's had to go through so much, especially since nobody really considers his mental health (Dumbledore pretty much neglects him in this book, and a lot of people are just hoping he 'gets over' his PTSD).

Thanks for reviewing!

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Chapter 39: Schism

.

Harry felt like he had woken up from a terrible nightmare the next morning. It was only after meeting downstairs with a worried Ron and Hermione that he realized that yesterday´s scene had indeed happened. He could only hope that Zidane wouldn´t avoid him like the plague after that. Not that he would blame him. Even he would be more than a little disturbed if he were in Zidane's shoes at that moment.

For a moment he held on to the misguided hope that whatever Voldemort had been happy about last night was only a bluff. The students didn't really seem all that concerned when they entered the Great Hall, so there was a chance that nothing had happened. That hope however, was completely crushed when Hermione opened up her morning copy of the Daily Prophet.

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

MINISTRY FEARS THAT BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT'

FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

Harry's eyes widened as he looked at the ten black and white photographs that filled the front page along with those chilling headlines. His eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the picture of a rather familiar looking woman he had seen in the Black family tree tapestry back at Grimmauld Place. Just like with Sirius two years before, this woman had hints of what could once be called beauty, but was dashed off after years of imprisonment. Her previous porcelain like skin was now gaunt, while her once lustrous hair was now a knotted and oily mass of black locks.

They said that the eyes were the windows of the soul, and if that was true, then he couldn't help but feel a shiver go down his back. All he could see in Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes was a bottomless pit of madness.

"Well, there you have it." Ron said with an awestruck face as they read the article. "That's why he must've been so happy yesterday."

Harry let a snarl twist his features as he read the article. He just couldn't believe that Fudge would use Sirius as an escape goat. Well scratch that, he could believe that just fine. What he couldn't believe was just how thick the man could be, though the students around him weren't any better by the looks of it. Ten Death Eaters had made it out of Azkaban and nobody had even made a comment. Even though it made the front page and was practically impossible to miss, everyone's conversation just seemed to revolve around school, Quidditch or some current rumor that was going around.

The same could not be said about the staff table. Dumbledore was in a deep and rather serious looking conversation with McGonagall. Professor Sprout had propped her copy of the Daily Prophet on a bottle of ketchup, unaware of the egg yolk that dripped from her spoon as she read. Even Umbridge had her eyes fixated on the porridge before her, rather than sweeping the Great Hall in search of students to terrorize. The only teacher who seemed wholly unconcerned was Professor Kuja, who was gracefully sipping at his tea, completely unaware, or more like not particularly caring of what was going on around him. Though that behavior did strike him as odd, it could be entirely possible that, as a French wizard, the man just didn't really care of what was going on in Wizarding Britain; as a foreigner, he either thought that none of this would affect him directly or simply that this was all just some over-exaggeration on behalf of the British Wizarding government.

And speaking of foreigners, Harry couldn't help but notice the absence of a certain blonde. On one hand, he was glad since it would mean saving him from a rather awkward and highly uncomfortable encounter. As much as he wanted to forget about it all, Zidane did see him laughing maniacally on the floor last night, literally possessed by Voldemort's twisted glee. Now that he thought about it, Neville was absent as well. The round-faced teen worried him since learning that the person responsible for his parent's condition was on the loose had to be hard on him. He would know since the same thing happened when Sirius escaped from Azkaban. Of course, that story had a much happier ending since he highly doubted that Bellatrix Lestrange would turn out to actually be a kind loving individual who was actually framed for her supposed crimes.

'Yeah, fat chance of that happening.' Harry said while mentally scoffing.

"Oh my…" Hermione said, bringing his thoughts right back to reality.

"What now?" Harry asked, he couldn't help but dislike the tone Hermione had used. It was never followed by anything good. Ron seemed to agree with him.

"It's horrible." Hermione said as she handed both teens a folded section of page ten.

TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER

Harry scanned the title and then quickly read through the rest of the article. He just couldn't believe it. A man by the name of Broderick Bode was strangled by a potted Devil's Snare. Worst of all, they had all been unknowing witnesses to the attempted murder. It was back when they visited Mr. Weasley in St. Mungo's and encountered not only Neville and his grandmother, but also Zidane and their ex-DADA teacher, Lockhart. It was in that same ward where the fraud was interned that they had seen Mr. Bode just staring up wordlessly at the ceiling. Heck, they had even seen the moment when the Healer brought the potted gift that ended up killing the man. He just couldn't help but feel queasy at the thought. They should have recognized the Devil's Snare. They had seen it before and they were actually nearly killed by one in their first year. They could have saved the man.

"Nobody could've expected it. A hospital isn't exactly the kind of place you'd expect Devil's Snare to turn up in." Hermione defended.

It was then that Harry remembered something important.

He had met Broderick Bode months ago when he had to attend his hearing. The man had gotten in the same lift as him and Mr. Weasley.

"I've heard dad talk about him at home! He was an Unspeakable; he worked at the Department of Mysteries!"

Harry frowned in thought. Everything seemed to come down to that one place. Next to him, Hermione quickly put the paper away and got up.

"Hey, where are you going?" Ron asked.

"I need to send a letter." The girl replied as she swung her bag over her shoulder. "It…well, I don't know whether…but it's worth trying…and I'm the only one that can."

A part of him was rather upset as he watched Hermione leave the Great Hall. He would have rather liked to know just what she was going on about. The other side of him had just accepted it as one of those things that Hermione did and would simply reveal itself with time. Then there was the side of him that shivered slightly as it thought about the future consequences of her actions.

And then as if his morning couldn't possibly get any worse, he realized otherwise when both teens happened to come across a certain half-giant.

"What do you mean you´re on probation?!" Ron said loudly, making nearby students turn to them in curiosity. Ron quickly apologized.

Though Harry hated to say this, even he had to admit that it did not surprise him. It was unpleasant, yes, but Umbridge's dislike for Hagrid was apparent the moment they met. His class on Thestrals hadn't done much to redeem his image as a professor, either. Hagrid would really have to watch his step around the woman from now on. It seemed like the only people that the pink-clad woman hated more than Hagrid were Professor Kuja and himself. How the silver-haired man managed to dodge everything that the toad threw at him was still a complete mystery to him. Perhaps Hagrid would do well to take some advice.

'Then again, I doubt Hagrid would ever be able to pull it off.' Harry mused, the sudden thought of Hagrid mimicking Professor Kuja seeming completely ridiculous in his mind.

Classes were over surprisingly quick and by the end of the day, just about everyone knew about the half-giant's probation, though nobody seemed to know or care about the death of the Ministry worker.

With heavy steps, he reluctantly left the warm confines of the boy's dormitory where he had left his bags. Tonight he had another Occlumecy class with Snape and he'd be lying if he said he was looking forward to it.

Ever since he began with the lessons, he had been getting progressively worse, getting small yet constant flashes of Voldemort's emotions. Last night's episode was possibly one of the worst ones yet, meaning he was obviously not making progress. Making his mind blank before sleep was a difficult task that he often forgot, yet even when he did remember, it didn't seem to do any good. Snape would surely chew him out because of it later. Somehow he always seemed to know.

Hermione had already suggested that it could all be part of the process, just like how a fever had to get worse before getting better. Ron, of course, quickly suggested that Snape was still a Death Eater and it was all an elaborate plan to weaken him.

"Snape is loyal to Dumbledore, and just because he doesn't like Harry, that doesn't mean he won't follow Dumbledore's instructions." Hermione said. "I'm sure Professor Snape knows what he is doing."

Harry scoffed at that. Snape was out for him, it didn't matter how you looked at it. It was really too bad that he couldn't learn Occlumency from somebody else in the Order, like Dumbledore, or even McGonagall. If it were Lupin, he would have probably learned it already.

After saying goodbye to his friends, he slowly made his way to the chilly castle dungeons, hoping to prolong his freedom if only for just a little bit longer. Though there was still some time until curfew, the corridors were rather empty, most likely since it was still rather early in the week, meaning that most students were too tired or busy with homework to loiter in the halls at this hour.

Harry finally reached the heavy door that led to Snape's office and knocked lightly before waiting for a reply. His actions were responded with a monotonous 'come in', and once the door was opened, he was greeted by the sight of a completely unamused Snape clad in his usual billowing black robes.

"You're late, Potter." Snape drawled.

"I'm sorry, sir." Harry replied, not meaning a word of what he said. His gaze was quickly drawn towards the other figure inside the room. What was Professor Kuja doing here anyways?

"I will not tolerate this behavior again, understood? Now come inside and let us begin." Snape said, turning around without a second glance.

Harry shut the door behind him and followed after Snape, looking on with a rather confused, yet curious look at the other person inside of the room besides the two of them. As if sensing his confusion, the silver haired man just smirked.

"Excuse me professor, why-" Harry began to question politely before being interrupted by the man.

"If you are wondering why we have an unexpected guest today." Snape began, saying the word guest as if he had swallowed something sour. "It's because from today onwards he will be assisting you with these lessons."

"Assisting?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed, though a small shred of hope was beginning to bubble within him. Maybe Profesor Kuja was here to replace Snape. 'But weren't these lessons a secret? How did he find out? Is he actually part of the Order then?'

"It was my idea, really." Professor Kuja finally spoke up, that ever present smile on his face. "Occlumency is a difficult art to learn, because it needs a great deal of mental and emotional control. As such, even with guidance on how to perform it, there are oftentimes problems when it comes to practice. I am a bit of an expert when it comes to this matter, so when I came to learn about these lessons, I humbly offered my assistance."

"The headmaster has agreed to dedicate some time in every lesson for meditation, in hopes that it will improve your performance to a bare satisfactory level." Snape sneered. "Due to some unforeseen circumstances, I won't be able to instruct you tonight, so Professor Kuja will be taking over this class. Next lesson I will be testing you on whether you can successfully clear your thoughts to create a mental barrier. I do not want to be disappointed."

The greasy haired man left through a door, his robes billowing behind him, while the two remaining males watched as the door closed behind him. After that, there was a sudden uncomfortable silence that lingered in the room.

"Well, it looks like it will be just you and me tonight." The man said, turning to look at him with those oddly colored, light bluish-purple eyes. He had never been this close to him before so he had never really been able to notice just how bizarre that color was since it looked rather normal from a distance. "What do you say we take this lesson to some other place? I cannot say that dear Severus's sense of décor quite agrees with me."

The man wrinkled his nose in disgust as if the dark and rather gloomy office was actually offending his senses in some way. Harry didn't find it that bad, but considering how the man before him acted and dressed, adding with the fact that he was French, made him realize that to him, this place must've been hideous.

Harry nodded in response, and was then led outside of Snape's office. The pale man locked the door behind him and quickly took him through a series of stairs and corridors until reaching a door rather close to where the library was located. On the door, the words 'Professor Jacques L'Rouge, Counselor' could be seen. With a wave of his hand, there was a click and the door opened for them.

If Harry had to use a word to describe the man's office, it would have been 'classy'. Black and very comfortable- looking leather chairs lay in front of a mahogany desk with a high backed almost throne-like chair behind it. There were several books and artifacts decorating the tall shelves inside room, as well as a large orb on a pedestal in the back. Unlike Dumbledore's warm and cluttered shelves, everything here looked cold and elegant, just like its owner. Somehow, the man had even managed to fit a couple of expensive looking statues, some murals, and a stained glass window in a room that was much larger than it should have been.

"Alright, here we are. Please, take a seat." The man said. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, that's alright Professor-" Harry said before being interrupted by the man.

"It's alright, Harry. No need for formalities when outside of class; Kuja is just fine." The Professor said.

Harry blinked. It was strange and rather awkward to call a Professor by his name, and even worse, when it was actually a request. The only professor he had ever called by his first name was Lupin, but the man was almost an uncle to him, so it felt natural. This on the other hand…

"Now on with the show, shall we?" The man said, not waiting for a hint of a response from him. "Tell me now. Just how well have you been able to progress with dear old Severus?"

Harry scowled lightly, though his gaze suddenly seemed to find the floor very interesting. What could he say? Him and Snape got along like water and oil. Just about all the castle knew that. But it wasn't like he could blame it all on the professor either. He had been…distracted as of late. He'd also be lying if he said that he actually cleared his mind before bed every night like instructed. There was just too much on his mind at the moment. He usually forgot, and even if he just so happened to remember, the task was impossible with his cluttered thoughts.

Whatever the case, at least the profe- KUJA, Harry reminded himself- wasn't upset with him. If anything, the man looked rather amused.

"I expected as much." Kuja said. "But not to worry, when I get through with you, Occlumecy will come off as easy as breathing."

A sudden thought occurred to Harry. This was all just too convenient for his liking. "Excuse me professor, I mean, Kuja. I-it's not that I do not appreciate what you are doing, but I was just wondering. How did you know about these lessons in the first place?"

Harry had done it. These lessons were supposed to be a secret, so how had the man found out? He had not mentioned it earlier, and now that he thought about it, it was far too suspicious. On one hand it made it likely that professor Kuja was not as neutral as they were led to believe, and was actually working for someone. Judging by his position, the Ministry would be likely, but it made no sense if he considered the way the man behaved towards Umbridge or his general disregard for Ministry regulations.

But then that left only two other options. Either the man was sided with the Order, or he was a Death Eater.

So far there were no indications whatsoever that the man was with the Order of the Phoenix. He had hoped that someone would have at least told him before returning to Hogwarts. Now that he was back, unless Dumbledore decided to speak to him for once, he was completely disconnected to what was happening outside. He had managed to convince Dumbledore to enter the school, but then again, Dumbledore had also allowed Death Eaters inside before. Frauds and impostors were not uncommon in the past years, as much as it pained him to admit. There was also the strange relationship he had with Snape. Unlike with the rest of the professors, it seemed like the greasy haired potions master somewhat put up with his presence. This could prove that he was actually in the Order, but then again, Snape was under even more suspicion of being a Death Eater than the silver haired man.

There was actually a huge chance that Kuja was a Death Eater. He sure was cunning and very Slytherin-like; something that after years of near death encounters, he had forever linked to being a Death Eater. He was obviously aristocratic enough to mingle amongst the purest of pure-bloods. Then there was the fact that he had suddenly come to the school, completely out of nowhere. Why would an aristocrat like himself bother with a bunch of foreign witches and wizards in training? Yes, it could be because of Zidane being his brother and all, just as Hermione had suggested, but even the blonde was skeptical when confronted with that reasoning. It seemed like even the blonde did not trust his brother. Did he know something about this perhaps?

It was just too suspicious.

'But depending on his answer, I may be able to figure it out once and for all.' Harry thought to himself.

"Oh that." The silvery haired man said, pulling a bang out of his face and behind his ear. A mischievous grin quickly overtook his features. "Let's just say a little bird told me."

Harry was taken back. That was certainly not the answer he was expecting, and if anything, the suspicious answer just tipped the scales towards 'Death Eater'. He would have to be careful from now on, as difficult as it may be. The man was teaching him Occlumency for Merlin´s sake. If he was a Death Eater that was infiltrating the school, he was in the perfect position to eavesdrop on his innermost memories and thoughts and report back to Voldemort.

"Now, if you are done with all your queries, let's begin, shall we?" The man said, getting up from where he sat, and then walking gracefully towards him. Harry pulled out his wand as was custom with Snapes lessons. The man would try to break into his mind and he would be forced to defend himself against it by using spells. That's why he was a little confused and rather put off when the man before him began to laugh as if it were the funniest thing ever.

Before he could ask what the bloody hell was so funny, because really, who could blame him if he felt a little irritated at getting laughed at, the man spoke again.

"We won't be using any wands yet Harry, first I'd like to see where you stand as of right now." The man said as he circled around him. "I would brace myself if I were you."

Harry was going to ask whether or not the man would take out his wand, but apparently, there was no need for it. The moment his eyes made contact with Professor Kuja's, he felt an immense pressure in the back of his head as flashes of memories and feeling began to play through his head like a film. Quickly realizing what was happening, Harry did as he had done with Snape several times and attempted to create a barrier by ridding his mind of any thoughts and emotions.

Needless to say, it didn't work all that well.

The presence stilled for a moment, as if thoroughly amused. It seemed to slither about, lithely like a snake, prodding at his barrier experimentally with increasing strength until Harry wasn't sure if he could keep it up any longer.

Cracks began to form along its surface and the Boy-Who-Lived was sure that he must be sweating profusely at this point. Snape had never made him keep up a barrier for extended periods of time. In fact, the potions master had never kept going for so long either. His strategy usually involved striking hard and when he least expected, and then continue until he was exhausted. This man however… he was sure that Kuja was holding back.

The strain was too much now. It didn't help that he had been tired to begin with. A feeling of amusement suddenly filled him as the presence pressed against him once more before being seemingly satisfied and disappearing all together from his mind. A queasy feeling of vertigo overtook him then and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on one of Professor Kuja's leather-back chairs while panting desperately for breath.

"Hmm, well it wasn't a complete failure. Fortunately it looks like I have my work cut out for me. You're reaction time was far too slow, and the strength of your barrier was rather weak." The man said, making a rebellious spark of irritation flare inside of him. The man before him had really just told him that he was nothing short of awful at this. All that hard work with Snape had amounted to nothing. He just wasn't cut out for this. Maybe if he wasn't so tired, he could've shown him. Besides, a bit more of a warning would have helped. How was he supposed to know that the man wouldn't use a wand?

As if sensing his irritation, the man turned his eyes to him before allowing a playful smile on his lips. "Worry not. Do you honestly think I would waste my time if I weren't confident of your improvement? Ha! You should know. I never gamble if I am not sure that I will win."

Harry once again found himself stumbling over the man's confusing ways. Did that mean that saying he wasn't a complete failure was just his way of complementing him? It was confusing since all the expressions he had seen from him so far were smugness and amusement. In truth he didn't know whether to be flattered by the man's confidence in his skills, or feel insulted that the man compared him to nothing more than a prized horse in a race.

'I am beginning to see why Zidane hates him.' Harry thought to himself.

"Alright Harry, now it's time for the real training, but first you must take out your wand." The silver haired man said, and Harry couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine once he cause sight of the strange glimmer in Professor Kuja's eyes.

Harry looked at the man with a hint of apprehension before following his instructions and taking out his trusty length of holly.

"We will begin by improving your concentration and precision. You are capable of performing the levitating charm, yes?" The man said as he summoned a crystal ball from one of the shelves into his hand and placed it right in the middle of the table.

Harry nodded while trying to hold back a snort. It was part of the first year curriculum after all. With a quick 'wingardium leviosa' the crystal sphere rose from the table and levitated to an even height, swaying left and right occasionally. It was painfully easy, really.

"That's wonderful, though sadly, that was not what I wanted you to do." Kuja said, the gleam in his eyes shining wickedly in the light. Harry frowned. "Your task is to levitate the desk for as long as you can, while making sure that the crystal does not fall and crash."

The man reached out with one hand and the desk began to levitate, the crystal raising with it, but not moving and inch from the center. "Now go on, give it a try."

Harry raised his wand once more and said the incantation. It was followed shortly by the horrible grating sound of crystal shattering on the ground into a million pieces as the sphere rolled away off the ledge of the desk.

"You will need a lot of concentration to accomplish this, not to mention a bit of brainpower." Kuja commented as he waved his hand and made the orb whole again. With a swish of a finger, the orb was placed right in the middle of the desk that was once again on firm ground. Professor Kuja simply turned around and headed to the back of the room, opening the wooden door at the end that seemingly lead to his personal quarters. "If you can manage for at least ten minutes then we will move on to the next exercise. I will be in the other room for the moment, but don't even think about slacking off, because I will know."

With a small wave, the man shut the door behind him and Harry was left alone, cursing as the sphere rolled off the table again and shattered on the stone floor.

…..

Zidane sneezed loudly, eliciting some disgusted looks from the people around him. Was he getting sick or something? He sure hadn´t felt very well lately, he´d even stop playing his occasional pranks because he wasn´t feeling up to it, but he had just attributed it to the cold weather outside. It was strange though, he was usually very healthy. So healthy in fact that Blank had even attributed it to the fact that ´idiots don´t catch colds´.

Maybe he´d ask Kuja.

Well, not now though. He had quite a couple of things on his mind as of late, and he thought that maybe just sitting down comfortably by the fire of the common room would help him sort things out. Like he said; it was ridiculously cold outside anyways.

Hagrid had been put on probation. That was one of the things that bothered him. Though the half-giant had a weird fascination with creatures capable of various degrees of bodily harm (which, in his opinion, really had no business being here to begin with), the man was still a very good friend to him. He had accepted him quite quickly and even agreed to keep his secret. So maybe his method of teaching could use a bit of improvement, a lot of other teachers in the school could actually benefit from improvement as well, like Binns and Trelawney. What really bothered him was that it wasn't really his teaching methods that got him on probation. Sure, that was the excuse, but he knew, and just about everyone knew that it was because of the toad finding out his heritage.

Now all of the giant´s lessons seemed to involve ridiculously harmless creatures. In fact, the most dangerous looking thing they´d worked with in the past week were crups, which were basically Jack Russel Terriers with forked tails, or so he had been told, since he wasn't really knowledgeable when it came to dog breeds. To him they looked ridiculous. Still beat the flobberworms though.

Trelawney wasn´t doing any better, though. He didn´t exactly like the woman, but he really didn´t hate her either. He had let go of the fact that she had rather rudely blurted out a rather nasty palm reading in front of the whole class, he had really gotten past that. What he had trouble getting over however, was the constant, clearly fake, death predictions that came from the woman´s mouth every time she opened it. It was rather annoying, and she wasn´t fooling anyone. The fact that she seemed to pick on Harry the most, made it worse in his books.

He really would have been angry if it weren´t for the prevailing pity he felt for the woman. Umbridge was out for her as well, and well, the future wasn´t looking very bright for her. She seemed to realize it too, based on the constant breakdowns she would have during class, and the smell of sherry that seemed to permeate through the air whenever she was nearby. Zidane had even seen her a few times in the Hog´s Head during his occasional getaways.

Another thing that was really bothering him was also just how isolated he felt from the rest of the world. He still felt a prickle of anger whenever he thought about the Order, though he admitted that maybe both parties had overreacted during that fight, and not just them. He had been having a bad day and that intervention was the straw that broke the chocobo´s back. What bothered him even more was that no one had even attempted to contact him since then, not even Dumbledore. He actually hadn't spoken to the old man since he got back from the Christmas holidays to find out that he had hired Kuja. All he had gotten then was a rather empty apology, though whether it was for keeping Kuja a secret from him, or the way the Order members had acted during that little intervention was still very unclear. He hadn't even received a single letter from any of them, not even Bill. It was really as if no one cared, and he´d be lying if he said he felt alright about it. Maybe they were just keeping him right where they could keep track of him, just waiting for him to royally screw up.

Now he knew what Hagrid felt like.

The last and most worrying thing for him at the moment was Neville. Ever since word of that prison escape came out, the teen's demeanor had changed dramatically. He was a lot more silent and seemed to spend less time with him and Luna. He even arrived at the dorms pretty late each night, way after curfew, which was very unlike the teen. This usually meant that he had to cut down his nocturnal activities down to a minimum or risk suspicion.

He knew why that was, he wasn´t a complete idiot. Neville was practicing hard on his spells, which became very evident by the amazing improvement that he had during the DA meetings. The others could hardly believe that it was the same Neville whose attacks were most likely to harm himself than others. Zidane would have been extremely happy for him if it weren't for one simple thing; he did not like that look in his eyes.

He had seen it far too many times before. They were the look of someone seeking vengeance. He had worn that look once back when Dagger had been hurt so badly, and at that point he knew he would have done anything to achieve it. Of course, it never came to that. Sense was able to slap him in the face before that happened. The funny thing about hindsight is that it's always 20/20.

Neville would most definitely regret it. He was too good for that. More importantly, revenge wouldn´t bring his parents back. True, Bellatrix Lestrange probably deserved all that and more, but still, all Neville would find at the end of this dark road would be nothing but regret. If he even made it out alive that is. His obvious lack of experience in real fight would not help against a woman that wouldn´t hesitate to kill him.

Zidane sighed. He would really have to talk to him, if he was willing to listen, that is.

And speaking of insane women, Umbridge had really outdone herself with the newest Educational Reform. Because of the whole break out thing, teachers were now forbidden to give students any information to anything that didn´t have anything to do with their subjects. Lee Jordan had actually told Umbridge that according to the new rule, she wasn´t allowed to tell Fred and George off for playing Exploding Snap in the back of the class since it wasn´t relevant to her subject.

´The poor bastard.´ Zidane thought as he remembered Lee´s exhausted body lying on one of the Common Room's sofas that afternoon. Now that Umbridge didn't have the blood quills, she instead resorted to a rather happy Filch.

Kuja, of course, had a field day with that new rule, since being an OWL preparation teacher meant that he really had no fixed subject. Much to Umbridge´s chagrin, he had managed to singlehandedly slip every bit of information the students craved about the incident into his lessons, by purposely talking about Azkaban during the History of Magic lessons, or Dementors during the Care of Magical Creatures lessons. In fact, the man had really become a bit of a hero lately, for his ability to stand up to Umbridge. That alone had gained him almost every student´s admiration, the keyword being almost.

Zidane could still remember Harry´s reaction to his first lesson with Kuja. He had been relaxing in the Common Room right when the portrait opened to let the moody looking teen pass through. The first thing he had said to him was ´Your brother is a real git, you know.´.

The blonde smirked. Obviously he knew.

Admittedly, Harry had been sleeping a lot better lately. When he had asked Kuja about it, he just said something about meditation. Seeing as he had no idea what the older genome said, Zidane just let it go.

Footsteps echoed slightly as the portrait swung open and snapped him out of his thoughts. He was rather surprised to see Neville emerge, since the round faced boy was hardly ever present in the Common Room at this hour. He´d usually be in the Room of Requirement practicing his spellwork. The teen walked up to the boy´s dormitory, as if too preoccupied to notice anything or anyone around him. Zidane decided that this was as good a time as any.

"Hey Neville." The thief greeted, catching his friend´s attention.

"Oh hey." The teen said absentmindedly while putting down a few herbology books nearby. The blonde was quick to notice the slight tremble of his hands.

"We need to talk." The genome said, cutting through the chase and grabbing his friend´s hand. Neville winced and attempted to wrench his hand away, but Zidane was stronger than the teen gave him credit for.

Cyan eyes inspected the appendage. His hand was red and there were clearly some boils that had burst at some point to create some painful looking sores. Moreover, there were tiny pieces of what appeared to be shrapnel imbedded in the skin, with crude wounds around them, meaning that at some point Neville attempted to clumsily get them out. Overall, his hand was a mess, and he really wondered how he was even holding those books in the first place.

"Will you stop it already?" Zidane said, looking at his friend in the eye. "I know this is because of that woman, and I am happy that you have gotten better at spells, but this isn´t you. Getting revenge won´t change things, if anything it will only get you killed!"

Neville looked surprised for a moment, making Zidane continue.

"Yes, I noticed. Luna has noticed too, and my guess is that so has everyone else. In fact, you´d have to be an idiot not to notice." The blonde said.

"I don´t expect you to understand, but this is something I have to do." Neville said, his tone rising in a rather surprising way.

"This is real life, not Hamlet. You don´t have to go off looking for revenge!" Zidane retorted.

"What would you know?" Neville yelled.

"I know your parents wouldn´t have wanted their kid to go off and possibly get killed!" The thief called back and at this point, he realized that their conversation had somehow turned into a full blown fight.

"Well, I wouldn´t know, would I? No thanks to that bloody Death Eater!" Neville said, his face becoming red with anger. The genome was sure that he´d never seen Neville like this before.

"You go down this road, and there´s no turning back!" Zidane called out angrily, but it appeared that Neville had either ignored him, or was just not ready to admit it.

"How would you understand?! My parents were such great people, better than I can ever hope to be. How am I supposed to make them proud if I can´t even do this?!" Neville yelled, and the genome felt his anger reach its peak.

"Well then your parents must be proud to have such a dumbass for a son." Zidane said, and the next thing he felt was a strong blow to his face as Neville punched him.

The genome froze, all anger draining from him only to be replaced by the ever-growing sting on his face. A part of him had trouble believing that Neville had just punched him. Touching his lip gently, Zidane looked down to see blood staining his white glove; a split lip. His wide cyan-colored eyes then travelled towards Neville, who was now breathing heavily while still red in the face.

"Wow." The blonde heard from the apparent audience they had acquired without his realizing.

He didn´t turn to look at them. Instead, his thoughts were drawn back to what had just happened, and he felt something bubble deep within him. Zidane looked up to the round faced boy, and curling his fingers into fist, he leaped at him, his fist slamming into the side of his face.

This seemed to break the audience out of their stupor as soon there were shouts of those that had gathered outside the boy´s dorm. He heard several cries of ´break it up!´, and ´stop those two´, though there were many chanting ´fight´ over and over again. The next thing he knew, he was actually wrenched off of the round faced boy, with several arms holding him back, his feet actually lifting off the ground as someone held him by the middle. Looking in front of him (his eyes had never really left Neville´s), he could see that, except from the picked off his feet, the same was happening to the Neville.

"Stop it you two, you´re friends!" Zidane heard Hermione´s voice call out.

"Five sickles says he´ll get a black eye out of that." The blonde heard once more between the crowd and realized it was probably the twins.

"All of you stop this nonsense!" An angry call shouted and everybody who recognized the voice seemed to quiet down instantly. Even Zidane felt his entire body freeze before going limp. "Longbottom, Tribal, my office, NOW!"

It was McGonagall.

"Bloody hell." The blonde heard Ron say from somewhere in the crowd. Zidane silently agreed.

…

To be continued…

…..

A/N: Ah, fights between friends :'D

Also, to follow up on the Halloween theme, I thought it would be fun to hear what everybody went as for Halloween. I personally somehow (unwittingly) ended up as a panda bear, though I didn't really leave my house or anything. I did watch scary movies, though.