Ascension: The Silver Spears

by Define Anachronistic

(AU) Harry Potter is different. No one is more aware of this than him. His relatives acknowledge his existence only when necessary and despite growing up surrounded by creature comforts, everything he has ever owned is either a hand me down, stolen, scavenged or lent to him out of pity. He has no one to rely on. He tells himself that he prefers it that way. But no man is an island.

15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER TEN

Fragile Virtues

"Are you sure you're alright?" Michael asked at breakfast one morning. He was looking at him over the copy of Flying with Falcons that Harry had given him for Christmas. "You've been acting weird."

Harry wasn't surprised that he had noticed. In the fortnight since the new term began, Harry had felt increasingly guilty about all the secrets he had been keeping from Michael. Every time he saw the boy, he remembered Commander Robert Boot telling him to be careful of who he associated with in public and whenever he locked eyes with Robert Hillard, he recalled the Prefect marking out his brother as someone he should specifically not tell his secret to.

Normally, keeping secrets wasn't much of a problem for him, as after being reared in a town as stringently normal as Little Whinging, he had become rather adept at it. What bothered him was the fact that he was keeping secrets that involved Michael from said boy. If Harry were in his position, he would want someone to tell him. But it could hurt Robert, Terry and Anthony if he did so. It was all so confusing.

I really need to stop talking to people named Robert, Harry thought, it's brought me nothing but a stomach-ache from all the guilt.

"Winter blues." Harry shrugged off his friend's concern.

Michael clearly didn't believe his excuse. "Let me know if you want to talk about it." He said, clearly still concerned, but giving Harry his space.

Kick me while I'm already down, why don't you? Harry thought morosely but nodded anyway. "Excited for next Saturday?" He asked the group at large. It couldn't be more obvious that he was trying to change the subject.

As always, Terry made himself into an excellent distraction. "Yup! We've already been to Hogsmeade a million times, but this is the first time we get to go on our own."

Anthony glanced up from today's copy of Wizarding World News, his spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth. "What are you planning?" He asked, suspiciously.

Terry tried, and failed, to look innocent. "Why do you always think I'm planning something?"

Anthony's expression was stony. "Because you always are."

Harry smiled. "You're being a bit suspicious, mate."

Terry looked like he was about to deny any wrongdoing, but Michael rolled his eyes. "We're gonna find out anyway, so just tell us."

Terry looked at them, each in turn, before he sighed. "Alright, just remember we have our wands now, so we can look after ourselves."

Anthony sighed heavily, putting his still full spoon back into his bowl. "That doesn't exactly fill me with confidence."

Terry looked around, even though no one was paying any close attention to them. It was half past eight in the morning and the Great Hall was always packed right before classes began. "I've been contacted by," he paused, as if searching for the right word, "an old friend." He finally said, very clearly lying. "They have some ingredients I've been looking for. Some things apothecaries don't sell to kids."

"You do realise I know everyone you know." Anthony said, unimpressed with his brother's cloak and dagger attitude. "Who contacted you?"

Terry bit his lip. "I don't know." He admitted.

Anthony's eyes widened. "You don't even-!" His shout was cut off when Harry kicked him under the table. People were already beginning to look their way, so he forcibly lowered his voice. "You're the son of the highest ranking Auror in Britain and this is obviously a trap. You are not going!" He hissed. Terry made to protest by Anthony added sharply. "One more word and I'm writing to the Commander." Terry's shut his mouth, but he looked mutinous. Harry and Michael exchanged and awkward look.

The four finished their breakfast in a tense silence.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Quidditch practice had become equally awkward. Robert avoided his eye whenever he spoke to the team and gave Harry his instructions quickly, without any of their usual banter. Worse, unflappable Marcus looked like a kicked puppy whenever Harry saw him around these days. Whatever had occurred in that room after Robert had shouted at him clearly wasn't good in his eyes.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch team had practice that evening and Robert took the time to inform them of the next match date and who their opponents would be.

"Gryffindor." Robert said, arms folded as he stood in front of them. "Strong all-round team, equal to Hufflepuff. There one weakness is their Seeker." Robert glanced in Harry's vague direction. "Keep a close eye on the score. If were behind by thirty, we're not going to catch up. So just catch the Snitch."

With that, their Captain left the changing room abruptly, headed for the pitch. The team exchanged looks, used to this new behaviour after two weeks, but still confused by it.

"I wish he would tell me what's going on." Michael muttered, looking in concern at the door his brother had just passed through.

Harry perked up. "Maybe you should just ask him." There wasn't anything wrong with that, was there? Harry couldn't tell his secret, but Robert certainly could.

Unfortunately, Michael unknowingly killed that hope. "You think I haven't tried that?" He snorted. "Nah. He's just being extra grumpy for some reason." He sighed and followed the rest of the team out onto the pitch.

Harry hung back, as he wished to speak to a still sulking Marcus. He approached the intimidating boy warily, afraid that speaking about something he was explicitly told not to would incur his wrath. "You should tell him his new attitude is making people suspicious." Harry said, trying to keep his voice steady. They were alone, so if he pissed Marcus off, the older boy would have the time to hide his body anywhere.

Marcus glared at him for a moment before he slumped, sighing. "He won't talk to me. He blames me for sneaking in that night and not giving him enough time to put the usual privacy charms up."

Harry nodded. He had wondered why Marcus hadn't said hello, but it made sense if he wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place. "You're in the same house and the same year. He can't avoid you forever." He pointed out. "Besides, he's your team Captain and a Prefect. He has to make himself available to you, doesn't he?"

Marcus blinked, as though he had never considered that. He grinned and clapped Harry on the back. "Thanks, Harry!" He left for the pitch looking happier than Harry had ever seen him.

Harry shook his head as he watched him go. Teenagers were so weird.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

With the new year came the first private duelling lesson of the term. Despite their last meeting, Harry had been looking forward to it. There was only so much you could do alone in a practice room. Quirrell had seemed wary of Harry's mood when he first entered but seemed relieved when he showed how eager he was to duel.

"Anger can be a great source of power but mind it doesn't cloud your judgement." Quirrell warned as Harry sent a Severing Charm for his throat. Harry froze, as he had been aiming for his wand arm. Thankfully, Quirrell merely deflected it and it dissipated harmlessly against the wall.

Harry sighed in relief. "Sorry." He said awkwardly. What else were you meant to say when you almost decapitated someone?

Quirrell was unimpressed. "That would never have hit me," he said condescendingly, "not even if I were asleep." Harry was about to argue that point, before he realised, he would be demanding to be seen as an attempted murderer. He quickly shut his mouth.

"Are you ready to go again?" Harry nodded, eager to show off his improvements over the last month. The exact moment he did so, Quirrell launched a Stunning Spell right at him. Instead of using a Shield Charm, Harry leapt out of the way and flicked his wand at the nearest chair. "Locomotor! Flipendo!"

The chair moved itself in front of Harry, blocking Quirrell's Leg-Locker Curse, the force of it splintering the wood, but not breaking it as Harry had hoped. That was where the Knockback Jinx came in. The fractured chair launched itself at Quirrell, spinning rapidly, just in time to protect Harry from Quirrell's second Stunning Spell. This time the chair broke into a dozen pieces.

Harry smiled. Now was his time to shine. "Fumos! Acusignis! Depulso!" This was the rapid three-spell combination that Harry had spent the last month working on. The first two spells were known to be in his repertoire, but the third was a Second-Year charm he had been saving until he mastered it completely. It should take Quirrell by surprise.

In quick succession, the room was blanketed by dark grey smoke, the dozen pieces of wood that remained from the chair had all turned into long, sharp needles and had launched themselves at Quirrell with great speed. Harry's vision was just as impaired as his opponent, so he couldn't see if his attack had worked, all he could do was wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

Harry heard Quirrell's slow, mocking clap just before the smoke vanished, revealing the Defence Professor by the door. While Harry was proud of himself for forcing the man to move, (the needles had imbedded themselves in the wall, just behind where he had been standing) but he was a little annoyed that Quirrell didn't even bother with a counterattack. Was he mocking him?

"Good, very good!" Quirrell said happily, as he finally stopped clapping. "You can see now how a little anger can go a long way. It's a difficult balance, remaining angry, while planning the best move to defeat your enemy." He waved his wand and returned the classroom to the way it was when Harry had first entered. "Not enough anger and you pull your punches, leaving yourself vulnerable. Too much, and you make critical mistakes as you did earlier." Quirrell mimed his throat being cut, looking ridiculous as he rolled his eyes and opened his mouth like a dying man. Harry snorted, despite himself.

Quirrell smiled, seemingly happy that whatever tension had been between them before Christmas had disappeared, but only for a moment, as his expression now became stern. "However, you keep making the same mistake. One big attack you clearly hinge everything on, and once it fails then you flail around like a headless Hippogriff."

Harry felt his face begin to heat up. "I do not flail."

Quirrell raise an eyebrow. "That's your only concern with what I just said?"

Harry sighed. "Please explain that further." He requested with faux politeness. "I'm afraid I'm far too dim to understand your sharp observations."

Quirrell's mouth twitched. "Your words." He said, before elaborating. "You need to learn how to pivot as you duel."

Harry frowned, now he was honestly confused. "Pivot?"

Quirrell nodded. "Just because one tactic doesn't work, it doesn't mean you've lost. You need to pivot into another, and then another until something finally works."

Harry nodded, catching on to what he was saying. He had realised this weakness in himself months ago, as he tried to not put all his eggs in one proverbial basket while duelling, but it was a lot more difficult to do in the heat of the moment than one would think. Despite this, he felt the need to point something out. "I've never seen you pivot when we duel."

For some reason that made Quirrell burst out laughing. "You could never push me that far!" He wheezed, as though the idea of Harry being a threat to him was the funniest thing that he had heard all day. Finally getting control over himself (something about Harry's put out expression made it difficult for him to remain serious) Quirrell said, "You need to duel someone closer to your level."

Harry sighed again, finally realising where this was going. "I already agreed to return to the Silver Spears for a second meeting." He said, annoyed. "You don't need to try and convince me."

Quirrell nodded. "I'm glad. It'll be good for you to test yourself against those closer to you in age and skill level." He smiled reassuringly at him now. "Don't let it get to you if it takes you a while to get the hang of pivoting. Like most things, it is a skill that can only be learnt but never truly mastered."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Later that week, Harry found himself back in the underground training hall of the Silver Spears one night after curfew. Since term began, he had agonised over this looming second meeting, going out of his way to avoid both Slughorn, and to a lesser extent, Eliza.

However, despite his fears, they both gave him his space, Slughorn not even acknowledging him in class like he usually did. Perhaps they had sensed his newfound fear of them and their cold, brutal natures. The idea that they had read his emotions, which he always tried to mask, did not comfort him.

He recognised Eliza by the thin golden ring around the top of her boots. Gathering his nerve, he approached her before Slughorn could arrive to start the meeting. He stood next to her, giving her a solemn nod before waiting along with everyone else.

Slughorn ambled into the room, looking as haggard as he usually did since the New Year. He had lost a little weight and what little remained of his hair was falling out, leaving him looking like his head was an egg placed atop a much larger, rounder egg. He stepped into the centre of the hall, levitating over a dozen large boxes behind him, covered in dark sheets.

"Step forward! Hurry now!" He called out like this was a normal class, and not a secret Dark Arts society. "Today we will be doing something a little different, but just as important in your education." He smiled at them, reminding Harry of the Potions Master he had met in September rather than the sinister cult leader he had revealed himself to be in December. Despite his good judgement, Harry felt himself relaxing slightly, already preferring this new teaching method.

Once they had all gathered around him, Slughorn began to explain what they would be doing tonight. "Tonight, we will be learning the Confundus Charm." There were excited murmurs all round, before Slughorn raised his hand for silence. "For those unaware, the Confundus Charm was designed to confuse its target, either a person, creature or bewitched object. Depending on the skill of the caster, it can either confuse a person or a thing about a specific incident, make them see and hear things that aren't there or even remember things that had never happened at all."

The excited whispers of the gathered crowd took longer to silence this time. Harry could see everyone else was itching to learn this spell, but all he could think about was the consequences of giving such a versatile weapon to this particular group.

What Slughorn said next did not put him at ease. "As a rudimentary spell of the Mind Arts, the Confundus Charm should be easy to learn, relatively speaking. More complex Illusion and Cognitive Based Spells require a caster with more experience in the field. Think of this as your first step along this particular Esoteric Art."

Once he had finished speaking, he vanished the dark sheets revealing glass cages, each containing an impossibly large, and very hairy, spider. There were hisses all round, as many students stumbled back, and Slughorn nodded as though he approved of this reaction.

"Yes, baby Acromantula! An abandoned nest was found in the Forbidden Forest, with several damaged eggs." Slughorn looked pale now, as he looked like he was struggling to remember something. "I was able to save them, so that I could bring them to you now. Quickly now, in pairs, take a cage."

Harry hung back, allowing Eliza to levitate a glass cage, following her to a corner of the hall. Once everyone had paired up and spaced out around the hall, Slughorn's instruction began.

"Confundo!" Eliza said, jabbing her wand at the cage for what had to be the hundredth time. The Spider froze and shivered for a second before continuing its attack at the glass and Eliza let out another frustrated huff. Harry still hadn't taken his turn, not exactly eager to follow Slughorn's commands and Eliza hadn't asked him if he wanted a turn. That was fine with him, he was happy to run down the clock and never come back here.

"Confundo!" Once more, the spider froze for a brief instant before continuing its attack as though nothing had happened. Harry couldn't see her face underneath her shadowy hood, but he could see by here clenched fists that she wasn't exactly happy with this result.

The spell was an interesting one, Harry supposed, as it was similar to the Severing Charm in the way that it was both invisible and soundless. The only thing that stopped it from being completely undetectable was the intense shiver the spider made every time it was hit. Was that just for spiders? Or was that a reaction every target shared?

Before he could fall deeper into his own wonderings, Slughorn appeared at his shoulder. Harry managed to stop himself from stiffening, but he still had to move away from the Potions Master in order to keep him fully within his line of sight, for his own comfort if nothing else.

"You haven't tried it yet." He stated, revealing that he had been observing Harry the whole time.

"I was just waiting until my partner was finished." Harry lied. Eliza turned her head towards him, and Harry just knew she was giving him a filthy look.

"I'm done for now." She took a step back. "Why don't you give it a try?" It was Harry's turn to give her a filthy look.

Stepping towards the cage, Harry observed the baby Acromantula for a moment. It was a good thing Slughorn hadn't brought in something adorable like Crup puppies, as Harry would never have been able to go through with it then. But this was as easy as it was going to get. After all, was there anything less sympathetic than an angry spider the size of a cat?

Harry took a brief moment in order to brace himself before he quickly raised his wand and pointed right at it. "Confundo!" The spider froze and shivered for a moment, just as it had with Eliza, before turning to Harry's direction and bashing its body repeatedly against the glass, trying to attack him. Eliza snorted and Harry glared at her.

"The Confundus Charm is a battle of wills. All creatures have desires, instincts, that they need to have fulfilled." Slughorn explained, keeping his distance from Harry, but staring at him hard, willing him to understand. "That's why it's so hard to get any Cognitive Spells to work against humans, because no creature is filled with more desire." He extended an open hand at the cage. "But this is just an animal, so its desires are simple and few. You simply need to reach out and-," he closed his open hand quickly, making a tight fist, as though he were crushing the spider.

Harry was surprised to find that he actually understood what Slughorn meant. Raising his wand, he jabbed it sharply at the Acromantula once more. "Confundo!" There, just as he cast the spell, in the moment the spider paused its incessant attack against the glass, Harry felt a connection briefly form. Before he could figure out what to do, it disappeared, and the spider resumed its attack.

No wonder I didn't feel it before, Harry thought, it died so quickly.

Before either Slughorn or Eliza could say a word, Harry raised his wand once more. "Confundo!" The instant the connection was formed, Harry made his will known to the Beast. Calm down! He thought, as strongly as he could. All he wanted in that moment was for the spider to stop attacking the cage because, believe it or not, having a giant arachnid slam itself repeatedly against glass trying to get to you was very unsettling.

The spider froze, shivered, and stopped attacking the cage. It seemed confused, moving back and forth, as though it had lost track of what it had been doing. While the three of them watched, it seemed to relax as it bent its legs against the only rock in the cage and settled itself as though resting.

It had calmed down.

Harry was breathing deeply. Never before had a spell worked so well for him so quickly. He looked up from the cage to find that both Slughorn and Eliza were staring at him.

Slughorn's expression was fixed; He looked neither happy nor unhappy. "Well done." Was all he said, before continuing on to the next pair.

Eliza stared at him for a moment longer before turning back to the cage with new resolve, but with no new success. Harry, still confused by his own achievement, tried to give her advice a few times, but she shushed him each time, wanting to succeed all on her own.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

His confusion stayed with him into the next day, all throughout classes. He only snapped out of it after Quidditch practice was over and he noticed that he and Robert were the only ones left in the changing room.

"Where's Michael?" Harry asked, as he finished tying his laces. Normally, the two of them would walk back to Ravenclaw tower together.

"I sent him on ahead. I told him I wanted to talk to you."

Harry raised his hands. "Look, I didn't tell anyone alright?"

Robert looked abashed. "No that's not-" he paused, before blurting out, "I'm sorry for shouting at you! You didn't deserve it." His voice was stiff, but his face was bright red.

Harry stared at him for a long moment before speaking. "That's why you've been acting like a prat for ages? Because you're sorry?" He hadn't realised until now how angry and embarrassed he had been when Robert had shouted at him, slammed the door in his face and then ignored him for weeks. He had been too worried with keeping his secret from Michael to think about how mortified he had been, standing in the dark hallway like an idiot, before making his way downstairs.

Robert grimaced. "I was afraid that you were going to tell someone. You're just a kid, so I didn't think you could keep your mouth shut." He said, awkwardly. "I realised you hadn't when Marcus spoke to me."

Marcus. That was who had initiated this conversation. "You told me not tell anyone, so I didn't." Harry said rapidly, failing to reign in his temper. "But Michael doesn't deserve to be ignored by you for doing nothing wrong. Tell him the truth or don't, it's your choice, but you really need to treat him better. He's your brother!"

Harry let it all out in a single breath, feeling better than he had in weeks. Where was the Commander? Harry wanted to shout at him next.

Robert sat down, having the decency to look ashamed of himself. "I know he deserves better." He sighed. "Is he angry with me?"

Harry's anger began to fade when he saw how regretful the Captain looked. "Not angry, just worried." This seemed to make him feel worse. "I don't think he'd be angry with you if you tell him the truth either. For someone who acts like such a grumpy idiot, he can be very understanding."

Robert didn't smile. "He's the last person who can know." Harry raised his eyebrows, not understanding this sentiment. "He's my little brother. He's followed me around for as long as I can remember. The first time he picked up a broomstick, it was only because he wanted to keep following me. I want him to keep looking up to me."

Harry was still confused. "You think he'll stop looking up to you because you're gay?" Robert nodded, and now it was Harry's turn to sigh. "You're really underestimating him. Besides," Harry thought of their conversation on Halloween, "you have no idea how much you and your parents mean to him."

Robert nodded slowly, and after almost a month of no answers, Harry couldn't help but ask the question that had been rattling around his head. "The relatives I grew up with are Muggle, you know. They were really afraid of anything that was different." Harry paused, hoping Robert would pick up on the hints he was dropping, but when he didn't, Harry asked, "Is your mum similar?"

Harry was afraid that Robert might get angry, as all boys did when their mothers were spoken of in a way that might be construed as an insult, but he, surprisingly, just snorted. "Just my mum? You're not worried about my dad?"

Harry blinked. "Your dad's a Squib, isn't he? He grew up in the magical world, so he should know better." Something about that statement made Robert laugh and Harry tried to defend his thought process. "Everyone in the Wizarding World is so proud of their individualism! I saw it the first time I went to Diagon Alley, the way everyone was dressed! It was so-" Harry stopped speaking when Robert's laughter became too loud.

When he finally sat up from where he had slumped along the bench, wiping the tears from his eyes, Robert explained himself. "All of that is just superficial! It's just window dressing. Believe me, I've kept one foot in both worlds my entire life, and they're each as bad as the other." Harry began to protest, but Robert pointed out. "Sure, not everyone in the Wizarding World would hate me, just like in the Muggle world, but do you really think that a movement like the Knights of Walpurgis would have grown so powerful, almost taking over the whole world, if they didn't have so much support?"

Michael's words came back to him now. Muggles might not care, but wizards do. Harry didn't want to believe that his new world, the world he had been born into, could be so similar to the one that he had left behind.

Harry frowned. "Why are people's opinions so important to you?"

Robert smiled, humourlessly. "I want to become Minister of Magic." Harry blinked. He had not expected him to say something like that. "I want a seat at the Coalition, and I want my life, my career, to have a real impact on the world."

"That's why you keep your nose clean." Harry realised. "Why you study so hard, practice Quidditch so hard, because you're trying to build a flawless record?"

Robert nodded. "It all starts at Hogwarts. I've even been interning at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement since I was a Third Year." He looked Harry in the eye, looking more passionate than Harry had ever seen him. "I have it all planned I. just don't want anything to ruin it."

Harry nodded, slowly. Clearly, Robert had thought on this matter for much longer than Harry had, and it was his decision to tell anyone even if he hadn't given it any thought.

"I can't say if you're going to be Minister one day, or how other people will react if you ever tell them the truth about yourself, but I can say that I still think of you the same way I did before." Harry said this slowly, as he wasn't sure if this was something Robert wanted to hear.

Robert merely smiled. "Cheers."

The two of them finally left the changing room and made their way back through the cold January air, towards the warm castle. As they went, Harry once more fell victim to his curiosity.

"Hey, Robert?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is Marcus your boyfriend?"

Robert scrunched his eyebrows together. "Don't tell me it took you this long to figure that out."

Harry ignored his teasing. "Is that why he gets so annoyed whenever you mention Oliver Wood during practice? He was your old boyfriend, wasn't he?"

Robert's face turned red, and not from the cold. "How do you-? How did you even-?" He spluttered.

Harry smothered his smile. "Marcus looks like he wants to punch a brick wall every time you comment on his Keeper skills." Harry tried to look innocent. "Haven't you noticed?"

"Of course, I haven't!"

It was Harry's turn to hum. "Funny thing is, they're both Keepers. Do you have a type?" He couldn't hold onto his innocent act, as Robert looked so embarrassed that Harry had to laugh.

Robert remained both red-faced and silent, all the way to Ravenclaw Tower, with Harry smirking all the while. When he knocked on the bronze eagle knocker, it asked:

I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?

Harry blinked. For the first time, the eagle headed knocker had him stumped. "I haven't got a clue." He looked up at Robert and waggled his eyebrows. "You're up, Keeper-Lover."

"Oh, shut it." Instead of answering the riddle, Robert went for his hip holster.

Harry protested. "That's cheating!"

Robert smiled. "Benefits of being a Prefect." He tapped his Aspen wand on the knocker, and the door swung open. "Are you coming?" He asked when he noticed that Harry was not following him.

Harry was so busy staring at his wand he almost missed the question. "Yeah, yeah! I just forgot I have homework waiting for me. Don't you hate it when that happens? You think you have a free night and then, BAM! You see a Transfiguration essay waiting for you on your desk." Harry cut himself off as he realised, he was beginning to ramble.

Robert stared at him for a long moment, and Harry was terrified that he understood what had just occurred to him. Then he spoke, "You are even weirder than Michael, you know that?"

Harry smiled, trying to keep all the tension he felt off his face. "What's so wrong with being weird?"

Robert shook his head, smiling as they went their separate ways, he to Marcus and the other Sixth Years by the window, and Harry up the stairs to his dorm. Glad he didn't meet any of his friends on the landing, especially Michael, he closed his dormitory door behind him with a slam.

Harry leaned his back against the door, his breathing erratic. He had recognised Robert's distinctive white Aspen wand as he had seen it a month earlier, at his first meeting of the Silver Spears.

Robert had been the one who floated Myrose's beaten body out of the training hall. Aspen wands weren't common, but they weren't exactly rare either and the boy had the same figure as Robert did in his Quidditch uniform. How many boys that size had an Aspen wand? It had to be Robert.

Harry lost track of time during this latest meltdown, but he slowly managed to calm himself down as he slowly found his resolve. So what if Robert was a part of the group? It didn't make him bad. Quirrell had said that he, like the rest of the members, were victims, young people who were being manipulated by an authority figure. There was no way he could leave the group now, not when Michael's brother might get into trouble. It was up to Harry and Eliza to stop Slughorn and save the other members from his influence.

Harry swore, then and there, that he would do so.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Saturday had arrived, and with it the first ever Hogsmeade trip, for the First Years at least. The First Year Ravenclaw boys were at the head of Filch's queue, armed with school-provided maps of the town, waiting for Hagrid to bring the horseless carriages.

They had all agreed to be in the Great Hall before breakfast was even served. They ignored the jostling behind them as they relished their place in the front. At least until some Slytherin's elbow caught Terry in the back, pushing him into Michael's triple decker breakfast sandwich.

"You do realise they'll be serving food in Hogsmeade, right?" Terry asked, as he tried to get copious amounts of egg, bacon, and ketchup off of his cloak. "You don't need to bring half the castle's food with you."

Michael looked mournfully down at the remains of his breakfast, which now littered the fresh snow of the courtyard. "I'm hungry now and I'll be hungry later."

Anthony looked thoughtful. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I've heard the words "I'm full" ever leave your lips."

Michael shrugged. "Those are the words of a quitter."

Harry couldn't do anything about the half-eaten sandwich on the ground, but he could do something about Terry's cloak. "Come here." He told him, drawing his wand. Once Terry was in front of him, Harry waved his wand over the front of his cloak. "Scourgify!" The sandwich's contents vanished, leaving nothing but a clean cloak and a fresh citrus scent in its place. It was difficult to tell from behind his thick scarf, but judging by the crinkling of his eyes, Terry was beaming at him.

Harry smiled back. "I knew household spells would come in handy."

Anthony rolled his eyes. "However long it took you to learn that an Automaton could have cleaned a thousand cloaks." Harry scowled. He wasn't wrong, which is exactly what made his comment so irritating. Before he could say anything, Michael spotted their ride.

"Hagrid! Over here!" Michael ignored Filch's glare, as he had shouted right in the old caretaker's ear. "Give us the first one! We're your favourites!" How he wasn't embarrassed shouting that in front of their entire year group, Harry didn't know.

Harry elbowed him. "Don't put him in that position." Harry hissed. "He's a teacher. He's supposed to be impartial!" Just as he finished saying that Hagrid brought the first carriage over to the four of them with a wide smile and Michael smirked triumphantly at him. "Oh, shut up." Harry muttered.

The four of them climbed into the carriage, and the second Hagrid closed the door behind them, it took off for the school gates. As the only Muggle raised person present, Harry had to be the one to ask what any reasonable person should be thinking.

"So, are we really comfortable trusting a horseless carriage to take us to Hogsmeade?" The others stared at him, nonplussed. "I'm just saying, if we can't see a driver, are we really safe?" Anthony tsked and rolled his eyes and Harry made a mental note to never speak to him when he was sleep deprived. He was surprisingly grumpy.

Terry furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? Muggles have cars."

Harry stared. "You do realise the car doesn't drive itself? It needs someone to operate it."

Terry looked fascinated now. "Really? I thought only The Knight Bus worked like that!"

"What's The Knight Bus?" Anthony groaned as Terry began to eagerly explain.

In no time at all (For Harry and Terry at least) the carriage had reached the top of the high street at Hogsmeade. Anthony couldn't get out of the carriage fast enough, and even Michael seemed relieved to leave the magical and non-magical transportation discussion behind him. The moment Terry jumped out of the carriage and saw the wide-open street before him, he made a running start, shouting, "HONEYDUKES!"

It was barely nine on a Saturday morning, and the street was empty, so his voice echoed all around. The other three all shushed him. "Slow down! We have plenty of time." Michael pointed out, grabbing him by the back of his cloak.

Terry shook his head rapidly, as though he were already on a sugar high. "Honeydukes and then Zonko's. They're the first to get filled up really on school weekends." He hurried them along towards the famous sweet shop.

Anthony frowned. "How would you even know that?"

"I asked around." Terry shrugged.

Anthony looked distinctly amused. "You did research? For a Hogsmeade trip? You?"

"Yes, yes. It's very funny. Now can we please hurry up? You know how bad I am with queues." Something about this statement made Anthony's eyes fill with apprehension, and he joined in Terry's hurrying.

When they entered Honeydukes, Harry immediately knew what all the fuss was about. Every kind of sweet and confectionery was present among the many shelves. A hundred different kinds of chocolate, toffee, nougat, never-melt ice cream, forever flavour bubble gum, pastries and, of course, Anthony and Terry's favourite jelly slugs/snakes. This shop was every kid's dream and every dentist's worst nightmare.

The four boys looked at each other, grinning, before charging forwards towards the stacked baskets. Twenty minutes later, they left the sweet shop carrying bags full of treats, just as it had begun to fill with slower Hogwarts students, leaving a dazed teenage salesperson behind them.

That was how the rest of the morning went. They went from store to store, exploring the high street as they bought whatever caught their fancy. From Zonko's, where they purchased enough joke items to wage war against Peeves, to Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment store, where the others merely perused while Harry purchased an antique globe which glowed to represent all the magical hotspots in the world in real time.

They went to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop to refill their writing sets before Terry led them to Dogweed and Deathcap apothecary, where he asked the owners for potion ingredients that Harry had never heard of. Michael made a stop at The Two Bludgers, a Quidditch Equipment store, in order to pick up some more broomstick wax and Anthony dragged them into Dominic Maestro's Music Shop in order to pick up the new Siren Call Album. While there, Harry made sure to secretly purchase two recently realised Wireless models and several albums to go with it. One pair was for himself of course, but the other was for Anthony, as his birthday was just around the corner.

Harry made them go into Tomes and Scrolls, as he wanted to pick up the intermediate copies of his Charm, Transfiguration, Defence and Healing books. While he wasn't quite there yet, he hoped to be by June, and having these stacked on his shelves would be extra motivation. He didn't bother purchasing the intermediate Arithmancy, Runes and Potions books. As much as he would like to need them right now, he simply counted himself lucky that he was even keeping pace with his classmates in those subjects.

It was almost noon when they began to wander down the street, followed by the bags they had enchanted to float behind them. Pausing only to make kissy faces at Eddie and his date through the window of Madame Puddifoot's Teashop, they made their way to The Three Broomsticks for lunch.

Unfortunately, by the time they had gotten there it was already packed out and it wasn't just Hogwarts students either. It looked like half of Hogsmeade was stuffed into the tavern.

Michael groaned. "I forgot. It's Cannons vs Wasps on the Odeon today." He grimaced. "Let's go somewhere else."

Harry looked at him in surprise. "There's a Quidditch game on and you don't want to watch?" Harry never would have expected to see the day.

Michael looked offended, wrinkling his nose at him. "The Canons suck, and the Wasps are the scum of the earth." A couple of fans wearing black and yellow heard him and scowled in their direction. Unafraid, Michael gave them both a rude hand gesture. The two wizards, who both looked old enough to be their fathers, left their drinks at the bar (their stools immediately being stolen) and began to make their way over.

Before things could escalate, Harry, Anthony, and surprisingly, Terry grabbed a scowling Michael and bid a hasty retreat. When they felt they had run far enough, they let a still struggling Michael go.

"What did you do that for?" He demanded, as though they were the ones in the wrong. "Now those Wasp bastards are gonna say Falcon fans are cowards!"

"How will they even know you're a Falmouth fan?" Anthony pointed out, trying to reason with him with logic. "You're not even wearing any memorabilia."

Michael scoffed. Clearly the logical approach did not work with Quidditch fans. "Look at me. How could they think I'm anything but?"

Harry nodded, thoughtfully. "So, sports fans are ridiculous in either world. It's reassuring to know that some things are universal."

Michael looked like he was about to retort, but Anthony cut him off. "I'm still hungry, so where do we go now?"

Surprisingly, it was Terry who came up with a decision, which wasn't even the surprising part; It was the fact that the suggestion was a sensible one. "The Howling Tavern is supposed to be good." Terry suggested, looking far too innocent.

Judging by Anthony's narrowed eyes, Harry wasn't the only one who was suspicious. "Yeah, it is."

Terry smiled. "Great, let's go!"

Following their maps, they headed back north, towards the school and the Shrieking Shack, ("I still want to see that before we leave!" Michael exclaimed. "I bet it's not half as scary as Robert said.") giving The Three Broomsticks a wide berth just in case the two Wasps fans spotted them through the windows.

The Howling Tavern was not on the High Street, but it was still close enough to get decent foot traffic. It was a clean, stone tavern, smaller than The Three Broomsticks, but every bit as warm and welcoming. Harry had never heard bad thing about this place (unlike the dirty Hogs Head, which was filled with all kinds of shady people or The Heretic's Inn, which is where you went for a drink if you were looking to die) but he couldn't help but notice a few witches and wizards giving the place a wide berth as they passed.

When they stepped inside from the cold, they were greeted with a pleasant temperature, the scent of a cooking food from the kitchen and the sound of the Quidditch game playing in the corner (Michael groaned at that). The barmaid stared at them in surprise for a moment, before calling out, "Feel free to sit anywhere, dears. I'll be with you in a moment!"

The boys took her invitation gratefully, happy to get off their feet after a whole morning of shopping. Anthony and Michael squabbled over their seats for a moment, as the latter wanted to turn his back to the game in some strange, silent protest.

Before they upset the other patrons, especially as they were the only students present, Harry got up from his seat. "You are such a child." He tutted, as he and Michael switched seats.

The barmaid, Pam, according to her name tag, got to their table in no time at all. "What would you like, dears?" She smiled down at them kindly, her face looking strangely young despite her grey hair. She wrote down their meals and drinks orders, with pen and paper strangely enough, before headed toward the back where the kitchen was.

Harry relaxed, leaning back against the back of his chair, and closed his eyes for a moment. He'd had a late night going over the all the Spanish he had learned in Languages Club, and today's early start was only just getting to him. He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, his plate of fish and chips was being placed in front of him.

Harry opened his eyes to see Pam walking away and turned hastily to his friends. The few times he had nodded off in the common room, Anthony and Michael had to stop Terry from doing something embarrassing to him.

However, they were just tucking into their meals. Terry was behaving himself and Harry noted, vaguely, that Anthony was still regarding him with suspicion, but Harry was too busy checking his reflection in his goblet to pay it any mind. Relieved that nothing had been drawn on his face while he had slept, Harry began to eat his meal.

It really was lovely. Just as good as the Automatons made back up at the school in fact. The Butterbeer was served hot in a foaming tankard, and just one sip made Harry regret avoiding it so long. It was sweet enough for his tastes and filled his body with warmth, leaving him feeling toasty and comfortable. Coupled with his full stomach, Harry was on the verge of falling asleep again, his body desiring nothing more than a nap.

Anthony's sharp question snapped him out of his pleasant mood. "Why are you taking so long?" Harry followed his eyes to Terry's plate. Despite the other boys all beginning their meals before him, Terry was barely halfway through his shepherd's pie.

Michael was practically salivating as he looked at the other boy's plate. "If you're full, I'll be happy to finish that for you." His own plate was clean of all the remains of his steak and kidney pie.

Terry's eyes widened. "No! I'm still hungry." He said defensively, as he pulled his shepherd's pie closer to him. "Why don't you just order a second plate?"

Michael sighed. "I would if I could, but I spent a month's pocket money in Honeydukes and Zonko's."

"It's on me." Terry offered.

"You're probably going to regret that." Michael looked delighted as he got Pam's attention and ordered another pie.

If they were going to be here until Michael was full, or Terry ran out of money, whichever came first, then Harry probably had enough time for that nap. However, before he could even close his eyes, Anthony spoke.

"Just tell me."

Terry raised his eyebrows. "Tell you what?"

"Whatever it is your stalling for." Anthony face was without humour. "You can tell me."

Terry stood abruptly. "I'm going to the loo."

Harry chuckled, sleepily. "Announce it to the entire room, why don't you?"

Terry ignored him, ignored all of them, as he left for the door marked Men's. Both Anthony and Harry watched him go, while Michael began to devour his second steak and kidney pie the moment it arrived. It was only when Michael had finished did, he seem to realise Terry wasn't present anymore.

"Did he leave?" Michael asked, concerned. "Because I seriously don't have the money to pay for this."

Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's one-track mind, before reaching into his Mokeskin pouch for a Galleon. "I've got it." Harry placed the Galleon next to the receipt Pam had brought, covering everyone's meals. "Someone else get it next time."

While Michael thanked him profusely, Anthony stood up without a word, making his way to the restroom. "Him too? I hope it wasn't the food." Harry said, teasing a slightly worried Michael. "They might not let you on a broomstick if it's food poisoning. Unless the wanted to fertilise the pitch."

"That is so not funny-"

Michael stopped speaking as Anthony returned looking worried. "I can't find Terry in the loo." They both stared at him.

"Terry's a big boy, I'm sure he'll manage to relieve himself without you."

Anthony glared at Michael. "The window was open! He must have snuck out to avoid us!"

Harry frowned, his full belly made his mind both sleepy and slow. "Why would he avoid us?"

"Because he was supposed to meet his shady pen pal today! Remember?"

In fact, Harry did remember, and his chest began to fill with worry. "He didn't want us to know he was keeping the meeting." Harry said, rising from the table. "That was why he was stalling. Because you said you were gonna tell the Commander."

"It's not my fault!" Anthony said, furiously. "I wasn't going to tell on him. I never tell on him, no matter what he does! Doesn't he know that?"

Harry raised his hands pacifically, not wanting to be the target of his anger. "I think so. Maybe."

Anthony's expression was still angry, but his voice revealed how worried he was. "So then why isn't he here? Did he think I wouldn't notice him disappear?"

Harry shook his head as he stood up and waved a still confused Michael up from his own seat. "I don't think it was part of his plan. I think you were right when you said it was all a trap." Harry led the way out of the Howling Tavern and onto the street. He saw no sign of Terry.

Harry reached for his map of town. "There," he pointed to the small Auror outpost on the map. "Anthony, you go to the local Citadel and let them know what happened. Michael," he pointed to a second labelled location. "Check out this Apparition Point. If you hurry, you might get a good look at whoever took Terry."

Michael frowned. "That one is closer." He pointed to a location Harry was trying to hide with his thumb.

"I'll take that one. You're faster than me, so you'll get to the other one much quicker than I can." Harry lied, quickly. Michael easily accepted this reasoning.

The all agreed on his plan, but before they parted ways, Harry said, "Obviously, if you see a teacher or a Sentinel-"

"Tell them what's going on." Anthony understood. Harry nodded. As much as he would prefer to solve this issue without the help of an authority figure and risk getting into trouble for going out-of-bounds to The Howling Tavern, there was to be no messing around when Terry might be in real danger.

Harry took off down the side street, heading north towards the Shrieking Shack as fast as he could. There was a reason he wanted to be the one to go to the nearest Apparition Point, and it wasn't the lie he had told Michael. Of the three of them, he knew the most Martial Spells. Whoever took Terry was going to put up a fight, either to avoid being identified or to just kidnap another kid, and Harry stood the best chance against them.

Harry left the outskirts of the town behind him, following the path through the thin thicket of trees, stopping just before he emerged into a clearing. Across from him, a hundred feet away, was the infamous Shrieking Shack, a small two story, dilapidated building behind a wooden post and barbed wire fence. The snow around the clearing had plenty of footsteps; First Years eager to see the most haunted building in Britain. However, the snow behind the fence and around the house was untouched.

Except for a single pair of footprints leading straight to the front door. Not away.

Harry narrowed his eyes. Why would they hole up in the Shrieking Shack instead of Apparating away? It didn't make any sense. Unless they were waiting for something. Or someone. Maybe that someone was another target. One who had enemies, who had security all of his life, and whose death, according to Hagrid, would lead to a loss of hope.

While this might be a trap, Harry wasn't going to abandon Terry. It was just fortunate that his parents had left him a last line of defence. Summoning his Invisibility Cloak while he was still behind the tree line, just in case the kidnapper was watching from the boarded-up windows, Harry put it on before drawing his wand. "Anemoi!" He said quietly. A ball of white light erupted from the end of his wand, before launching into the sky towards the nearest Citadel.

The Anemoi spell was a useful one, but it was terribly inaccurate in magically dense areas as it was designed to call for help in Muggle territories. Still, it was better than nothing.

Harry made his way carefully to the shack, making sure to step only where the snow had already been disturbed. It would be smarter to simply wait for their arrival, but even a minute could make all the difference in Terry's rescue.

Climbing over fence was surprisingly difficult while wearing a long, flowing cloak, but he somehow managed. Once he was in front of the door, he pointed his already drawn wand at the lock. "Alohomora!" The door did not open. He tried out the other unlocking spells he had learned, but all of them failed. Harry gritted his teeth, and just as he was resolving himself to try and blow up the door, an idea came to mind.

Reaching for his Mokeskin pouch, Harry withdrew his kindjal. When Professor Flitwick had returned it to him just before last month's exams, Harry had been doubtful of his findings.

"Its purpose is to cut?" Harry asked, repeating the words Flitwick had just uttered. "I tried to cut a letter open with this before, but it didn't work."

"Were you channelling your Mana through it? As you would your wand?" Harry shook his head, and Flitwick smiled kindly up at him. "As far as I can tell, it was made with the purpose to cut anything in its path. This is not an unusual enchantment, as most weapons are made to hurt others. Yours was not, which is good as I wouldn't feel comfortable returning this to you if the blade were in any way capable of cutting a person."

Harry remembered feeling hopeful that evening and feeling that hope die as the blade failed to cut open his parent's letters. He had put the long dagger back into his Mokeskin pouch and hadn't taken it out since.

Harry did so now. Removing the kindjal from its sheath, he channelled his Mana from his own body to the blade and he felt at once just how receptive it was. No, receptive was not the right word, it was not like his Blackthorn wand, which seemed to have its own kind of power and sentience. It was more of a conductor, like a copper wire allowing electricity to pass through it.

Placing the sharp tip of the blade in the small crack between the door and its frame, Harry moved the kindjal up and down. He removed it after a few moments when he didn't hear the familiar click that the Unlocking Charm always produced. However, the moment he did so the door moved forward a little.

Slowly, Harry opened the door, wand raised. He couldn't see anyone in the foyer, but that did not mean they weren't there. "Homenum Revelio!" He murmured. There was no reaction, meaning the room was truly empty.

Harry glanced back at the door for a moment, only to see the lock had been cut neatly in half. Suddenly feeling glad that it hadn't worked on his letter, Harry began his examination of the house. He could not see any ghosts or ghouls, and all the furniture looked as though it had been ravaged by a wild animal. Not finding any sign of Terry downstairs, Harry began to climb the creaky stairs as quietly as he could.

There. In the first bedroom he came across, he saw a bound, gagged and blindfolded Terry. He was in the clawed grip of a salivating- Was that a Hag?!

Harry almost regretted ever entering the shack. He had read that Hags had very minor magical powers, in comparison to the potential of witches and wizards, but they were something of a nightmare for Aurors. They bred quicker than humans did and, despite their warts and the greenish hue of their skin, could blend in rather easily amongst Muggles, even the ones who could see through the Veil. All of this meant they had ready access to their favourite delicacy:

Human children.

Harry didn't know how one had gotten into Hogsmeade, but he did know that if he didn't do something right now, Terry was going to end up being this Beast's lunch.

Approaching as quietly as he could, Harry raised his wand. The second he did so however, she sniffed the air. She knows I'm here, Harry realised, diving to his left on some crazy instinct. It was a good thing he did so, as the Hag leapt with impossible speed right where he had been standing. Unfortunately, he had forgotten something.

Hags used what little magic they did possess to slowly effect their lairs, turning the whole thing into elaborate lures and then cages for their victims and weapons and traps to use against any intruders, Aurors in particular.

The spot Harry had jumped onto was unusually soft, he could almost feel himself sinking down into its surface, as he would a comfy bed. Glancing down, he saw that he hadn't jumped onto a bed or a piece of furniture; The very floor was sucking his invisible body in, like quicksand.

His heart was racing, but Harry forced himself to remember all he had read from The Auror's Enchiridion, both to escape this and to avoid other critical mistakes. Avoid the traps completely, Harry remembered the words as though they were written in front of his eyes and capture the Hag and force them to remove it.

Just as he recalled that piece of information, the Hag turned from where she had landed and looked at the spot Harry was standing on, confused. Harry couldn't blame her as it probably wasn't everyday her evil lair was trespassed on by an invisible child.

Taking advantage of her pause, he aimed his wand carefully. "Confundo!" he whispered, but it wasn't quite enough. The Hag's sharp ears twitched, and she looked like she was about to dive out of the way, but Harry's spell just barely caught her. If he had been visible, he never would have landed it.

But he was invisible, so when the Confundus Charm established a connection, Harry's desire not to be captured and eaten overwhelmed her desire for a meal. Stop the trap, he commanded, release the children.

The Hag shuddered, froze and then, looking confused as to why she was doing so, waved her hands undoing the sinking trap. Before she could gather her wits, Harry jabbed his wand at her. "Stupefy!" He didn't bother keeping his voice down that time, relishing the widening of her eyes before the Stunning Spell struck her dead centre. She slumped onto the ground with a dull thud.

Turning to his friend now, Harry waved his wand in his direction. "Relashio!" The bindings and blindfold came loose, and Terry tugged them off himself immediately.

"Who's there?!" Terry shouted, the moment he removed his gag, looking at the spot Harry had been sinking in. Harry lowered his hood.

"It's alright! It's just me." Harry tried to reassure him without taking his eyes off the Hag or the door. Just because there was only one set of footprints outside didn't mean she didn't have an accomplice. It wasn't unusual for Hags to work in pairs.

"Harry! How-? You have an invisibility cloak? And you never told me?!" Terry spluttered as he finally got to his feet.

"You have some really weird priorities, you know that?" Harry waved his wand his wand over the Hag. "Oscausi!" The Hag's mouth was sealed shut with her own skin, as though it had never been there. "Mobilicorpus!" She was lifted a few inches off the ground and floated towards the door as Harry directed her. "Are you coming?" He asked Terry over his shoulder. Apparently, Terry wasn't much of a fan of the Shrieking Shack, as he hurried past Harry and the Hag to the front door.

By the time Harry arrived outside, Anthony was already hugging Terry in relief, while Michael was talking two uniformed Aurors, gesturing to the shack. "Our other friend is still in there!"

"It's just a building, kid." The older of the two said, sounding exasperated. "The stories about it are played up for small children and tourists. He's not in any danger in there."

"Err...Lieutenant?" The much younger Auror tried to get his superior officer's attention, once he had caught sight of Harry. The silver-haired Lieutenant turned, and his eyes almost fell out of their head when he saw the Hag that Harry was levitating.

Harry smiled. "Hello officers. I'd like to report a crime."

Author's Note

I realise both Robert's attitude about his own sexual identity might seem a bit backward, but this is 1992. It was probably the stone age for gay rights back then.

I'm trying make Harry realise that while the Wizarding World saved him from the Dursleys, it has all the same problems as the Muggle one. Just heightened cause everyone has magic to fight anything that's different.