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Chapter Sixty-Four—Recruiting Allies

"I still want to know why you're spending time with a chit like Parkinson."

"Which one?" Harry asked absently as he sorted through his books for the Potions class that was upcoming. Horace Slughorn was an uninspired professor, he thought, but at least he could get across basic concepts. And he would probably be fairly easy to recruit to Harry and Voldemort's peace. Peace was good for connections and gifts, the two things Horace was most interested in.

"Either one." Mafalda Prewett planted herself in front of him. She had her hands on her hips, and her hair hung to her hips in a burnished curtain of red that Harry supposed she thought made her look attractive. "You have power. Your brother has even more. But the Parkinsons are of no account."

"Funny. I think a lot of Slytherins would say the same thing about the Prewetts."

Mafalda flushed so brightly that it made her face look as if she'd swallowed cyanide. She followed Harry as he walked towards the entrance of the common room, packing away his books as he moved. "Maybe some of my relatives are worthless, but I'm not."

"Then you have to prove it. The Parkinsons have already proved themselves to me. You haven't done anything."

Mafalda preened and puffed up. "What do you want me to do? Demonstrate my power? Curse someone from a younger year?"

"What would that prove except that you're a bully?" Harry asked her as he walked down the corridor towards the Great Hall. Pansy was already following him, which was all right with him. Draco and Acanthus weren't up yet, or he thought they would have been here as well. "Come up with a worthy test of your worthiness."

"Did you notice that that last sentence was very repetitive?" Mafalda asked, trotting beside him.

"Checking my grammar isn't it," Harry said. "I already have Ravenclaw friends who can do that."

Mafalda gave him an injured look, and went off to the far end of the Slytherin table, presumably to ponder how she was going to prove her worthiness. Harry shook his own head as he took his seat in the place where the first-years had sat last night. He hadn't even shown off his own magical power to her yet, although Mafalda might have heard rumors. The kind of impression a few words and hints made never ceased to startle him.

"Good morning, Harry!"

Harry looked up and smiled as Hermione came over from the Ravenclaw table. She shrank a little at the looks that the Slytherins prefects shot her, but she had the courage to stand up for her principles even if she hadn't been Sorted into Gryffindor this time around. She nodded to him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," Harry said, and it was no less than the truth. Hogwarts had been home to various incarnations of him, and his friends, and even his enemies, the ones he could forgive and find amusing. "What about you?"

"It was different, being up in a four-poster bed. But exciting! Did you know that Ravenclaw Tower has its own library? It's really…" Hermione trailed off. Harry turned his head. Yes, the Slytherin death glares had reached the point where even she couldn't ignore them. "Um, I don't think your new friends like me very much."

Harry shrugged and stood up. "Not friends, just Housemates. Why don't we go over and sit at the Ravenclaw table?"

"You want to?" Hermione's voice became a little shrill, but Harry would rather deal with a hundred shrill conversations than remember some of the times in other worlds when her voice had risen for worse reasons. He nodded.

"Of course, why not? Did you know that Hogwarts's Charter doesn't have any kind of rules about House tables? I doubt they were established in the Founders' time. They probably had too few students to separate them like that."

"That's fascinating! And I suppose that we don't have to worry about it if the Charter doesn't have a rule."

People were watching them all over the Hall as Harry walked with Hermione towards the Ravenclaw table, but the only ones he actually cared about were Jonathan, who was grinning, and the other first-year Ravenclaws. They were frowning. Harry called up a bit of magic to wrap around himself. He wouldn't let them hurt Hermione for befriending a Slytherin.

"Everyone, this is Harry Potter," Hermione announced as they sat down near the end of one bench, the one that would keep their backs to the Slytherin table. Harry didn't think Hermione had picked that one deliberately, but she might have done it subconsciously. "Jonathan Potter's brother."

So she learned some history between the train ride and now. On the train, Hermione hadn't treated Jonathan with the awe that some people gave him—uneasy awe, though, because they didn't know what it meant that Jonathan hadn't actually been attacked by Voldemort.

"We know who he is, Granger." It was Terry Boot, leaning forwards to frown at Harry. "And we can see the snake badge on his chest."

"Harry explained that to me, Boot." Hermione had already mastered the art of sounding condescending. Harry hid his grin behind a scone he'd picked up from the table. "The Charter doesn't say that students can't sit at the tables of other Houses."

"That doesn't have anything to do with it, though." Cho Chang was speaking in snotty tones, but Harry could see the anxiety flickering in the back of her eyes. Even in the worlds where she didn't date Cedric and see him die in front of her, there was always something fearful in her eyes, Harry knew. In this case, she was just a second-year and probably had more to worry about. "It's the fact that he comes from the same House that You-Know-Who does."

Harry shrugged. "Well, you come from the same House as the Dark Lady Morgana, but you don't see me holding that against you, do you?" He slathered his scone with marmalade and took a huge bite that made some of the Ravenclaw prefects frown at him from down the table, probably about his manners.

"That's not true!" Cho's eyes were wide. "The Dark Lady Morgana was a Slytherin!"

"Have you ever seen a picture of her?"

"Well, not a portrait. Of course not." Cho was biting her lip, and Harry reminded himself that she was just a little girl, and didn't know anything about the other worlds and lives he'd lived, yet. "She would never sit for one, and Merlin didn't want to preserve her essence in case she managed to persuade and corrupt innocent people."

"That's true." Harry gave her a smile for knowing that much. Then again, she was a Ravenclaw. "But have you ever noticed that pictures in books always have an eagle sitting next to her and a raven crest on her brooch or ring, or whatever piece of jewelry she's wearing? The clues are there if you know how to look for them."

"It shouldn't matter, though," Hermione butted in. She always hated to be left out of conversations that were even vaguely academic, Harry thought fondly. "I mean, You-Know-Who has asked for peace with the Light, hasn't he? So the House Harry comes from shouldn't matter." She nodded and shot a triumphant look at both Terry and Cho.

"That doesn't erase all the things that Slytherins have done to Ravenclaws in this school." Boot folded his arms.

"Of course not," Harry said, taking neat bites of his scone. "So tell me what they've done to you, and I'll see if I can do anything about it."

They stared at him. Even Hermione had opened her mouth to say something and then had closed it and blinked. Harry eyed them, waiting for the moment when one of them started to talk about concrete objections.

"You—you're just a first-year," Cho said. "You don't have any power in the House yet."

Harry grinned and looked over his shoulder. The whole of Slytherin was focused on him, even the ones who had just arrived and heard what was happening from their friends. Most of them were scowling, true, but even that was more emotion than they usually would have showed about the antics of a first-year. "Well?" he asked, turning back to Cho.

"I—wow." Cho had wide eyes. "It's true, you know, Terry," she added, looking at Boot. "None of them have ever paid that much attention to what a first-year did before."

"But that just means that they're annoyed." Boot was dividing his attention between Harry and the Slytherin table, and refusing to look startled. "Doesn't mean they'll listen to him, doesn't mean they'll give up on attacking us."

"Attacking?" Harry shook his head. There were a lot of Slytherins here who needed to learn the meaning of subtlety, it seemed. Then again, that had been true in every single one of his lives. "Tell me which ones they were, and I'll talk to them."

"Wait. You believe me?"

"I'm sitting here not accusing you of being a liar, so yes. Why wouldn't I? Do you lie a lot, Boot?"

That got him more spluttering and a glare, but Cho jumped into the breach. "Those big ones that are sitting at the end of the table furthest away from Hufflepuff, Crabbe and Goyle. They go after even the first-years, and they just laugh when we try to report them to the prefects. The Slytherin prefects get them out of trouble."

Harry turned around, not entirely surprised to realize that the Crabbe and Goyle in his year had older relatives. He nodded. "I'll teach them better."

"No offense, Potter, but how can you? Not even the seventh-years in our House will stand up to them."

Harry grinned at Cho. "I have some weapons that other people don't."

"You know curses?' Boot sounded way too excited.

Hermione cut in, maybe a little upset that Harry was talking to other people when he was her friend. "Of course he does, because he's educated, but he would never use them in the corridor on Hogwarts students."

Harry's eyes met Cho's for a second, more or less behind Hermione's head. He nodded a little. Cho sighed and relaxed.

"Of course he wouldn't," she agreed, turning to look at Hermione. "Now, Granger, there's something I didn't understand about what you were saying this morning. Your parents work on teeth? How can they do that? I mean, I know Muggles can't just cast a charm and be done with the Healing, but teeth don't seem like something you can work on. It sounds unpleasant."

Hermione was more than happy to explain about dentists, while Harry ate his breakfast and sometimes answered questions from Boot and kept an eye on the Slytherin table. He noted who was the most upset about him being over here, and it wasn't the older Crabbe and Goyle, or Prewett.

Well, isn't that too bad for them, then? Harry thought, and licked his lips free of crumbs as he pondered how to proceed. He didn't exactly plan to blend into the background, but he definitely wouldn't want to use his full power against a couple of schoolkids whose only crime was stupidity.

A little, though…

Well, even when they lacked subtlety, Slytherins respected power.

"I hear that some of you like to bully the Ravenclaws."

Jonathan came to a stop, not so much because of the words as because he recognized his brother's voice speaking them. Cedric glanced at him in worry, as though thinking that Jonathan might need rescuing, but Jonathan shook his head. When Harry spoke in that tone, most of the time it was other people who needed the rescuing.

There was a long silence, and Jonathan could just picture the incredulity on the faces of older Slytherins being spoken to that way by a first-year. Then there was loud, grunting laughter. "And what you doin' about it, firstie?" said someone.

Jonathan's mouth tightened. That was Phineas Goyle. He'd tried to help the younger Hufflepuffs who got caught by that git, but it wasn't always possible, and Professor Slughorn favored the idiot's father too much to really intervene the way he should.

"I'm doing something."

Jonathan was already trotting towards the voice, with Cedric coming loyally behind him, when he felt the walls ripple and bulge around them. He gasped as something unfolded next to them, long wings and yawning jaws. There was only a shadow of it, but Jonathan could imagine what Phineas was seeing at the moment. There was a long gasp.

"I don't need to let it burn you, do I?" Harry asked, his voice light and cheerful. "I know that you have better sense than that. I don't need to let it go so that it could ravage the halls of the school and clean out all the Slytherins who have the same bullying tendencies you do. Not that you would be here to see it, of course. Well?" he added in a deeper tone, probably because Phineas had been silent for too long. "Do I?"

"No." Goyle almost whimpered, and other voices chimed in alongside his, fervently assuring Harry that he never needed to let the creature go, and they never wanted to see it again, and they never needed to see it again.

"Great!" Harry's voice was light and cheerful again, the voice he adopted when he wanted people to think he was an ordinary boy, and the shadow vanished. Jonathan saw Cedric checking from the corner of his eyes that the walls had really gone back to being normal stone. "I'm glad that we had this talk, and that we don't need to have it again."

Harry was smiling as he strolled down the corridor towards Jonathan and Cedric. He would have known they were there all along, Jonathan realized. Of course. There was the pounding noise of heavy footsteps running the other way from behind him.

"Hi, Harry." Cedric's voice was a little shaken, but Jonathan had to admit he was impressed that Cedric had tried speaking up at all. "Did—did you really summon a creature that was going to eat everyone?"

"Oh, no," Harry said, shaking his head and reaching out to pick up one of the books he held that had fallen on the floor. "Just the illusion of one. I knew that I wouldn't have to frighten them that much."

"But what if they didn't say they would stop bullying people?"

"Then I would have created another illusion. A more frightening one. Believe me, Cedric, I've seen lots of scary things in the time I've been alive."

Jonathan darted his eyes around and noted some Hufflepuffs coming around the corner. Well, even if they'd heard, it wasn't like Harry had admitted to the centuries he'd been alive. Everyone knew, or at least most people knew, that he'd been kidnapped by Voldemort when he was a baby. That could be why he'd seen frightening things. No one would know for sure.

"Okay." Cedric licked his lips. "But why did you frighten them in the first place? Why not try to reason with them?"

Harry's face grew gentle and sad. For a second, Jonathan thought he saw falling stars in his eyes. "I've known this kind of person before, Cedric. This kind of bully. They understand fear, but not anything else. There was nothing else I could do."

"Someone would have convinced Phineas a long time ago if you just had to use words," Jonathan said, shaking his head. "I know the Ravenclaws have tried, and they're a lot cleverer than most people."

"It still seems like there could be some better way to deal with them." Cedric was speaking cautiously, but his eyes cut back and forth between Harry and Jonathan as though he would push back against any negative reaction.

"That's one reason I want advisors like you around," Harry said, nodding to Cedric. "Sometimes there's a better way, and I just don't see it. That's what relying on your magical power and nothing else all the time will get you."

Cedric's mouth fell open a little. "So you're not—angry at me for speaking up?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't have any friends that way."

Cedric paused and then walked on in front of them as if he would need some time to come to terms with that. Jonathan didn't blame him. Sometimes, Harry was as confusing as hell.

"Things are going to be different now that I'm in Slytherin."

Jonathan smiled at him. "I'm glad. There were plenty of them who liked to bully Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and I tried to stop them, but I was never strong enough. And the Slytherins aren't really awed about me as someone who might have defeated Voldemort if the war had gone forwards."

Harry nodded absently. "Is it true that some of the Slytherins were also bullied?"

Jonathan frowned. "Yes. I've never personally seen it, because people were smart enough not to do it where I could see, but those are the rumors, and I believe them."

"Good. Things are going to be different," Harry said, and stretched his arms over his head. For a second, Jonathan thought he saw claws spreading out from the edges of his fingers, lazily scratching at the air before Harry pulled them back within his hands.

"Is it—enough for you?" Jonathan had to ask. Harry tilted one eye up at him, and Jonathan elaborated, "Just keeping peace in a school, when you've been involved in other negotiations and keeping peace for all of Britain already."

Harry smiled at him. "It's relaxing. And it's good to know that I can still listen to people and correct my course if I need to. I was always afraid of what might happen if I got to the point where I didn't listen."

Jonathan envisioned a high, dark mountain peak, and someone standing alone on top of it, staring down and watching everyone who tried to reach him fall short. That was what he heard in Harry's voice.

"I'll always be there, to warn you away from getting a big head," he said, and patted his brother's shoulder.

Harry grinned at him. "I knew I could count on you."