Previously on Defiance...

Hermione rubbed her forehead. The happiness she had felt about having a proper teacher for DADA (despite Harry's clauses and his changed behavior) suddenly vanished as she felt anger trickling down her spine.

"This isn't a coincidence," she said, his hands forming fists. "She knows."

"She can't," said Ron at once. "We never mentioned it publicly to anyone, except those who had signed the parchment. She couldn't have known it."

It was the truth. Hermione, Ron, the twins and a large group of students from all houses excluding Slytherin (a group of twenty-eight students to be exact) had met at the Hog's Head three days ago. They had taken advantage of the fact that Umbridge was in the hospital and had had a secret meeting about the secret defense group they wanted for their own. It had been, well, almost, a success.

The next morning...

"POTTER!"

Harry raised his eyebrows elegantly at the sudden change in the tone of voices around him as he regarded the unwanted presence of his self-declared nemesis in front of him. If he had to make a bet, he would say that the news about his dual-lordship, or more precisely, his being the Lord of Black was what had brought the young Malfoy heir raging in front of him. Draco looked ostensibly similar to a fire-breathing dragon at the moment, and Harry could swear that his ears were steaming in anger.

"Yes... Malfoy?" Snape would have been proud of the way he drawled. Speaking of Snape, the hated Potions Master was avoiding him for some reason, though the look of hatred on his face seemed crystal clear, and if the looks of revulsion he gave him at moments were any indication, Harry was sure that Snape was just one-step away from hacking him into tiny little morsels and use them in his potions. Not wishing to lose his breakfast, Harry discarded the thought and focused on the little ferret at hand. If the self-appointed Prince of Slytherin (Harry had guffawed when Daphne had mentioned the term to him) had come all the way to the Gryffindor table during breakfast, it was certainly not because he wanted to wish him a good morning.

"What is this I hear about you lying about being Lord Black?" Draco snapped.

Harry felt his eyes twitch. What was it with people believing him to be lying ever time? In fact, it was so ridiculous that he wondered why his name hadn't been changed to 'Liar Potter' instead of 'Harry Potter'. Given the way Fudge was spearheading the Ministry and using the laws (and inventing some) for his benefit, he could see that one coming in the future.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, he raised his right fist towards the blond ponce, too lazy to even get up for the boy. The Black signet ring materialized in his ring finger, much to the other boy's shock and rising fury. The change in the boy's countenance was remarkably quick, and had he not known better, he would have suspected the boy to be a metamorphmagus like Miss Tonks.

"This is IMPOSSIBLE!" Draco shrieked in fury, his eyes blazing with rage, "I am the heir Black and soon to be Lord Black on my birthday."

"Really?"

The curious and skeptical tone in Harry's voice caught him off-guard. Draco paused, and then returned heatedly, "Really? Of course, really. My father told me that I am the heir of Black, and that I will be the Black Lord by my seventeenth birthday. My father will not let this travesty go-"

"Well, there goes your solution!" Harry replied eagerly, clapping his palms like an excited ten-year-old.

"What-what do you mean?" Draco asked, unsure of this new Harry Potter. He was used to the Harry Potter that would argue back heatedly, the one who was easy to infuriate, the Gryffindor golden boy. He could not understand how to deal with Potter who could counter back his arguments with logic and a cool head.

"Well," Harry began in a matter-of-fact tone, not unlike the one Hermione used while lecturing him in studies previously, "—you just said that you are the rightful heir and should get the Lordship at seventeen, and that your father would take care of the travesty, correct?"

Draco nodded, almost dumbly.

"Awesome!" Harry clapped again, much to Draco's confusion, "—so that ends it. When you are seventeen, do remember to come to me. If you are the rightful heir, you will get what you deserve." His eyes then narrowed sharply and glowed with eldritch energies, as his tone changed to feral and he hissed. "Till then ferret, I am the Lord Black and you better remember it. Now leave this table and let me eat, you worthless excuse of a wizard." The last sentence was said in Parseltongue, making Draco nearly wet himself in fright as he stepped back and darted off to the other table.

"Well that was fun." Harry remarked, feeling as if he was suddenly being the center of attention for the Great Hall. The students, staff and even the pink hag was silent, though even from this distance, he could see her glaring at him. Deciding he had enough of the attention, he did the thing he did best. Sitting down on the bench, he continued to his feast on his breakfast.

"HARRY POTTER!"

There goes my chance at a peaceful breakfast.

He lifted his chin to stare at the angry glare of Dolores Umbridge, and tilted his head slightly with a curious expression. "Yes, Madam Umbridge?"

"MADAM HIGH INQUISITOR!" Umbridge, bellowing to correct him. Harry smirked at her. "Whatever you say."

Umbridge seemed to swell up in anger, if that was even possible. "DETENTION!" she screamed, as her lips twisted in sick pleasure.

"For?"

"Causing disturbance in the Great Hall and demonstration of dark magic in the Great Hall. I will expect you to come to my office at five in the evening, for your detention."

"No."

Every single eye turned to him.

"Excuse- me?"

"No." Harry repeated, standing up now that he knew for sure that breakfast would not be an activity he would get to do in peace.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Umbridge screeched, standing up from her seat. To Harry's surprise, none of the teachers were saying anything. The Headmaster was absent. Even Snape was silent, observing the entire situation.

"Be my guest!" Harry waved her off, as he turned his back at the staff table, walking out of the Great Hall, leaving a fuming Umbridge behind.

Later in the Office of the High Inquisitor…

"What do you mean Harry Potter is the Lord Black?" Cornelius fumed, glaring at Umbridge through the Floo as if it were all her fault. "Lucius personally shared with me that his son was the Black heir."

"He wears the ring." That was all Dolores had to say.

"The ring? That cannot be possible. He is what- fifteen? He is not of age." Cornelius ranted absent-mindedly when his eyes widened with glee— "—AHA! Potter is not of age, and yet he is illegally holding the Lordship of Black. What an excellent opportunity!" His gleeful face turned to Umbridge, "You have given me an excellent information. We will now get to put him in a criminal trial. Unlike the previous attempt, this one must not be sabotaged at all costs." He regarded the woman with an intimidating expression, "I want you to get me as much dirt as is possible on Harry Potter. With a little effort, we will be able to lock him up in Azkaban for good. The boy must learn not to pick up fights with his betters."

Dolores smiled. The sharp front teeth on either end looked rather scary.

Cornelius looked rather pleased. "The previous information that you supplied to me have been rather... useful, I must say. Potter and Dumbledore have been neck-deep into illegal things lately, as I suspected of course. Killing a professor? That is enough to send him to prison for twenty-five years at least. Fighting another one? Holding people at wand-point? This is extremely sensitive and powerful evidence. With a little support from the Wizengamot, the Boy-who-lived will be a criminal, nothing more."

"As we had garnered, Minister." Dolores added, making sure to emphasize upon the 'we', much to the Minister's consternation.

"Of course, of course, and what was it now? A secret defense organization? I knew Potter and Dumbledore were trying something similar."

"Indeed."

"I want you to catch them red-handed. We need proof before we act, and once we get them, we can get rid of the old bumbling coot for good."

"Of course, Minister." Dolores returned in her sickly-sweet voice.

In the Gryffindor dorm...

"Harry, do you think what you did in the Great Hall was right? You just painted a big cross on yourself." Hermione chastised him. Much to her consternation, Harry neither showed any kind of defiance nor rose up to her bait, he just lounged on the couch lazily.

"I know what I have done, Hermione. Moreover, yes, I know what can happen. After all, I have seen what happens when you paint a cross on yourself this year. You and Ron have been rather exhibitionistic about that." Hermione blushed in embarrassment, but did not say anything.

"Do you know of a place where we can all train without interference?" she asked primly.

Yes. Harry thought in his mind. "No."

"Damn," Hermione swore in frustration. "It is OWL year and we don't even have a place to study. Umbridge is breathing down our necks and we are all helpless. Even the Headmaster is powerless to stop her. She's torturing everyone with those quills of hers and now-ARGHH!" She turned to Harry with desperation in her eyes. "Come on, Harry, no one is more resourceful than you in these cases. Find us a room where we can all train in peace. I am even ready to negotiate something in return..."

Harry's eyes glinted.

Sometime later...

"Harry, if this is your idea of a joke..." Hermione tried, but Harry would just not listen. The two of them walked all the way to the fourth-floor corridor, the one that housed the Hogwarts library and just one single lane away from the Ravenclaw common room. It was one of the most populated places in Hogwarts during nighttime, and knowing the Ravenclaws and their love of the library, it was commonplace for students to walk past it all day. Hermione herself traversed the path every day and every night.

"I know this corridor like the back of my hand, Harry, there is absolutely no place here where we could-" her words stopped in her throat as Harry stopped in front of one of the two unused classrooms in the corridor.

"This? You couldn't have gotten another unused classroom in the entire castle, Harry? I am appalled that you are treating all of this as a joke, you-"

"Hermione," Harry suddenly cut her short, "-has anyone ever mentioned it to you that you talk too much?"

Hermione shut her mouth and waited blankly. Not willing to argue any further, she simply waited for Harry to explain. 'This is the perfect room for training. It is large, it is unused and the best thing, it is located so close to the library."

"How will that help?" Hermione blurted out, unable to constrict her inherent reaction of demanding answers. Harry faked a long-suffering sigh and continued, "Since it is close to the library, one gets to use a proper alibi- going to the library." Harry exclaimed with a flourish.

"Uh, question." Hermione raised her finger as if she were asking a question to a professor.

"Yes?"

"I can't help but point out one single loophole. You see," Hermione, exclaimed animatedly in return, "if they look into this room when we are having our sessions, they will still CATCH US RED-HANDED!"

Harry almost looked mollified, then his countenance shifted and a smirk flitted across his lips. "I never said I was done explaining." He whipped his wand out and-

"Harry, that is not your wand, where is your-"

"Hermione, what have I told you about speaking-"

"Sorry!"

"Right- so let's do this..." He lifted his palms as if in prayer and put them together, folding them onto each other as he called on his magic... His hands glowed with an ethereal eldritch energy as he chanted...

"Ad imaginem dei,

Mutata ego mundo

Ego tibi dabo potestatem...

Fidelius... maximas...Potestatem ostendere..."

He eyes shot open, his eyes burning with energy, as he extended his hands outward, a chain of white light joining both of his hands as he smashed both of his palms into each other...

"Fidelius... The meeting place of the Defense Association is the third room from the library on the fourth-floor corridor of Hogwarts." He turned towards Hermione who looked shocked, amazed and completely gob smacked.

"Hermione Granger, you are named Secret keeper. Will you treasure the secret with your soul in the same manner and spirit as it was given to you?"

Hermione looked flustered for a moment, before she nodded, "Yes, I will."

"So, have you said, so mote it be. Fidelius ostendere." With that, the glow left Harry's eyes as they turned back to their usual shade of green.

"You- you- you performed a Fidelius?" Hermione stammered.

"Yes, Hermione. The secret now, if you please?"

Hermione looked blank for a moment. "oh, of course." She looked strangely disarrayed as she walked towards him and whispered into his ear. "The meeting place of the Defense Association is the third room from the library on the fourth-floor corridor of Hogwarts."

Harry seemed to be hit by a freight car for a moment before he looked composed once again. "Damn, that spell messes with the head... Anyway, hope you have your answer now, right?"

Hermione looked half-shocked and half-enraged.

"Remember our deal," he whispered into her ear as he walked past her, leaving her to register his words and nod dumbly, before the reality of what her best friend had just performed and its associated dangers came to her mind. She spun around, both enraged and worried as she yelled, "Harry James Potter, how on earth could you perform a Fidelius of all things? Dumbledore said it was one of the hardest spells. You could have died, you could have-"

The place was empty. Harry Potter had vanished before her eyes.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she yelled into the open corridor.

"Damn!"

"Never thought you would be such a composed duelist, Potter." Daphne remarked as the two of them continued to trade spells with each other in the Room of Requirement. The spells were all standard ones, with nothing fancy. It was kind of an unspoken rule between the two of them- while powerful and showy spells had their uses, the two of them worked with simple spells, which were faster to use and could be employed in spell chains during a duel. After all, that was what Daphne had wanted to learn.

Daphne dodged the spell cutting hex and then threw a wide-area banisher towards Harry who simply kneeled and allowed it to swerve past his head as he sent a bludgeoner to her abdomen. She swiftly raised a deflective shield and threw another set of stunners in quick succession, firing at him from different angles. Instantly, Harry used his Duro trick to convert his left fist to stone and beat the stunners away. Daphne raised an eyebrow and spun around, sending another succession of banishers and hexes towards him, but Harry simply weaved through them and then suddenly spun back in the air. The entire thing was so lightning fast that Daphne could not believe her eyes. She raised her wand to throw another curse only to-

"Accio…"

The thought that he hadn't named the object he wanted to summon had hardly crept into her mind when an overwhelming force pulled her straight towards him as he thrust his wand towards her…

"Depulso!" He smirked.

WHAM!

The huge wall of air hit her face first, hurling her back as she fell on her back. She hit the floor with a thud, feeling her posterior bruised and paining with the fall. Harry simply raised his wand in front of her face and challenged, "Yield?"

"You win." Daphne answered automatically, putting her wand back into the holster as she tried to pick herself up. Rubbing her back, she looked at him and questioned, "Where did you learn such unconventional ways of fighting?"

Harry simply shrugged. "Picked it up here and there." He replied evasively. Daphne did not question further. Potter could be downright stubborn and evasive if he wanted, especially when it came to private questions about his knowledge or his training.

"I hope you will allow me to watch you during your private training sessions, someday." She urged.

"Perhaps," came another evasive reply.

Daphne shook her head. Perhaps she could try another approach sometime in the future. "Slytherin House has voted to stay neutral until the Dark Lord reveals himself publically."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "That is quite… unexpected, Greengrass. Did you have something to do with it?"

Daphne allowed herself to bask in the glory of her recent achievement. "Yes, I might have had something to do with it."

"And what will Slytherin House do when Voldemort shows his face?" Harry raised his wand, gesturing that it was time to cut the break out and begin another round of dueling. It was what they always did- initially they would discuss a spell or two, and then duel with each other, with him occasionally teaching her a few titbits here and there.

"It will depend on the outcome." Daphne spun her wand in a half-circle and create the beginning of a spell chain before she thrust her wand to start trading spells. She dodged the incoming hex and yelled out, "Reducto!"

"What kind of outcome?" Harry urged, flicking his wand as he sent her most powerful spell away, deflecting towards the floor. The area scorched under the effect of the spell. Daphne noticed how the devil spawn effortlessly deflected her most powerful spell, but refused to allow herself to get dazed by it. It was the first thing she had learnt from him- never get caught up by any fancy show by the opponent.

Harry smirked. The girl was good, very good, he had to accept it. He moved a little towards the left as he sent a wide-area bludgeoner towards her. Just as expected, Daphne put forward a powerful shield and intercepted the hex.

"I must admit, I never thought you to be the showman type." Daphne mused loudly, as she traded some stunners towards him. Harry simply dodged them and replied, "What do you mean?"

Daphne laughed. "You demonstrate Parseltongue in public, you make Malfoy run like the ferret he is, and then openly defy Umbridge. If that wasn't Gryffindorish, I do not know what is."

Harry grinned. "Well, the hag had it coming. Besides, I do not understand why you look down at Gryffindor. After all, Godric Le Fay was the most accomplished and feared battle mage during his time."

The words had the desired effect. Daphne widened her eyes in surprise as she registered what he had just told her, as she lost some of her concentration. A powerful bludgeoner came galloping at her, and slammed into her, throwing her back into the floor once again.

"Oww! Why is it always my butt, Potter?" she complained, rubbing her back with her left hand, as she stood up. She raised her wand, and tried to diagnose the injury.

"What can I say, you make them quite the target." He returned.

"Would you like a closer feel then? To be sure?" Daphne flirted back.

"I would, but then your other parts would start to crave my touch and we would end up wasting our dueling session, busy in something else…though equally enjoyable I'm sure," Harry drawled, wagging his eyebrows. Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Enough dillydallying around, Potter, get back to the topic," Daphne urged, "what were you saying about Gryffindor? Le Fay?"

"Caught on, have you?" He mock-complained. "Well, it is true. His original name was Godric Le Fay. After an incident when he defended his clan village from a horde of Gryffins, the tribe awarded him the epithet of Gryffindor, which meant 'Lord of the Gryffins' in their native tongue."

"Oh."

"You will find that none of the four founding Houses of Hogwarts have any kind of family name to stick to, except for Ravenclaw. The House of Ravenclaw is an ancient house, though I figure none of the descendants from the original line are alive."

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

"What about Slytherin?"

"It is a name taken by Salazar Grim when he and his brother decided to move out of the main family to create their own. The Grim family, whose native residence was in Blackmoor, took the name Black for the future generations to come."

Daphne looked at him shell-shocked. Finding her voice, she replied, all the while stammering uncharacteristically, "You mean, Salazar Slytherin was a Black?"

"In a way, yes. It should be a clear giveaway since both Black and Slytherins have a snake as their symbol, though only Black has the adder as its family totem."

"Ours is an owl," Daphne returned, not sure why she wanted to say it.

"Of course, the House of Greengrass is a descendant of the line of Le Fay, after all."

"What do you mean?" Daphne narrowed her eyes. While she knew that her family had ancient roots, it was a completely different experience to get to know about her own family from someone else.

"Morgana Le Fay had an animagus form of an Owl. An eagle owl, to be exact. The Ancient family of Le Fay divided itself into the Houses of Longbottom, Greengrass and Nott."

"And how did you know all of that?"

Harry suddenly reached closer to her, reminding Daphne how uncomfortably out of control she felt whenever he invaded her personal space, as he whispered into her ear. "I read."

Daphne ignored the sudden urge to smack his face as she frowned at him. "How can I be sure that you are not making this up?"

Harry shrugged. "Suit yourself. Or if possible, delve into your family grimoires."

Daphne narrowed her eyes. Family Grimoires. It was almost unusual for almost anyone, even the lord of the family to read his family grimoire. Most traditions and customs were forwarded down the progeny by word of mouth. Besides, the family grimoire housed ancient magic, magic way too powerful and complicated for most people to perform them. Suddenly, a thought flitted through her mind, something her father had mentioned in one of the letters.

The Potters have had Warmages in their family and it is believed that their family magic revolves around battle-transfiguration. The Blacks, on the other hand, were notorious for the use of illusions in their battles. If Potter is demonstrating illusions in public, it simply indicates that the boy has his hands on the Black family magic.

"What about your family?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What about mine?"

Daphne felt a little bolder. "The Potters are known to have Warmages in their family, while the Blacks were notorious for their illusions. You have demonstrated illusions publicly before. It is obvious that you have been dabbling with your family magic."

"Consulted with your father, have you?"

"Hardly. It was common knowledge, or at least it has been for me." She lied. If Harry could sense that she was lying, he did not give it away. He just shrugged.

"You did not answer." Daphne pressed.

"Was there a question?" he returned blankly. Daphne cursed inwardly. The way Potter would shift seamlessly from being the infinite reservoir of privileged knowledge to a downright stubborn moron was more than a little frustrating at times. Had she not known any better, she would have thought that Potter had some kind of split personality or something.

"Have you been dabbling in your family magic?"

"Family magic? That is a wonderful accusation. Tell me Greengrass," His eyes shone with uncharacteristic power, "—do you even know what my family magic is really about?"

"I am guessing battle magic, maybe something DADA related. I must confess that my initial idea was that the reason behind your… formidable DADA skills were because you were studying your family magic."

Harry smirked. "The Potters did not have Warmages in their family, contrary to your knowledge. In fact, most Potters have been slightly more than mere traders, dealing with everyday magic. My family has almost always been business-oriented. It is the original family we were descended from that were Warmages."

"And what family was that?"

"Peverell."

Daphne assumed that it was the light playing tricks, for there was no way that Potter's eyes would glow like she had just imagined it to be when he had mentioned the word.

"Peverell?"

"Yes."

"Never heard of it."

"You shouldn't. The Peverell name was wiped out around five hundred years ago before Godric Le Fay was even born. The name had changed to Potter already by then."

"So your family is as old as they go?"

"In a way." Harry shrugged.

"You speak of battle mages and Warmages as if they were different." Daphne accused.

Smart girl. Harry mused. "Warmages and battle mages have as much in common as a thestral has with a unicorn."

Daphne mused over it. Thestrals and unicorns were both magical horses, though thestrals were more reptilian than mammalian. Thestrals were treated as dark creatures, while Unicorns-

"What is the difference?"

"I thought I already told you that." Harry stared at her. "A battle mage is a protector, usually tied in service to some royal family or tribe and their main function is to defend. While they are fearsome warriors, ready to both kill and shed their own blood for honor at a moment's notice, most of their magic was Light."

"And a Warmage?"

For a second, it seemed like Potter's eyes seemed more feral than ever. "A Warmage is a butcher, Miss Greengrass. One who has the darkest of magics at his disposal, one who will use every trick in the book- light, dark, elemental, necromantic, anything and everything than can be used in the offensive- a Warmage will use them. Warmages do not have a fixed family magic—they were parasitic, growing out of other magics, defeating families and kingdoms and absorbing their magics into their own. I believe that even the weakest Warmage of my family could make your Lord Voldemort," Harry drawled the name out, "look like a puny kid."

"And how do you know all of that- no wait. Don't answer." Daphne frowned, knowing that he would be intentionally vague or something. Harry smirked.

"What about the Black?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"The Black family magic? You have used illusions in public before." Daphne demanded. At her expression, Harry begun to laugh. "Illusions? You call what I did in front of Snape as an illusion?" He snorted off again.

Daphne stamped her feet, not liking that Potter was having fun at her expense. "Then what is an illusion, pray tell-EEEEE!" Her left shoulder was suddenly pulled, making her spin back to look into the bright green eyes of Harry Potter. She widened her eyes in shock as she turned back again and could see Harry Potter standing behind her, grinning at her shock and inability to hold her usually composed demeanor.

"Like it, Greengrass."

Daphne nodded numbly, looking back again to see no one behind her. She turned back front to see five Harry Potters standing in front of her, and in an instant, they all amalgamated into one, who looked casually at her, and grinned.

"Enjoyed the show, Greengrass? Hope to see you next day." With that, Harry Potter vanished off from the room, leaving her alone. Daphne let out her breath, something she just realized she had been holding all this while. Clutching her head, she sat down on the ground, trying to put a word to the feeling of disorientation that her mind was going through at the moment.

This was madness, she decided. Though, one thing was fixated for good in her mind. Harry Potter was not the spawn of the devil. He was the devil himself.