- Aside from OCs and AUs everything is the property of J. K. Rowling-

-Chapter Six- Camping in the Forest-

'No run this morning?'

Harry silently cursed his luck as he reached over to grab his school robe from a hanger and shrugged it on. He'd been careful to dress as quietly as possible when he rose, ever since he'd managed to wake Liram during their first morning in the dormitory, and had been able to escape without notice the rest of the week. Of course, it would be the morning of his meeting with Dumbledore that his friend chose to stir again.

'No.' He replied, smiling. 'I've got something else to do.'

Liram frowned at him for a moment, before nodding silently and retreating back behind his bed curtains.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and set off for the headmaster's office, enjoying the silence as he walked through the long, deserted corridors.

'Toxic Waste.'

The gargoyle slowly stood from its crouch and began turning atop the rising stairway.

'Do come in, Harry.' Came a cheery voice before he even had a chance to knock the gleaming door.

He pushed against the door and stepped into the room, which looked exactly as he remembered; save that the twinkling headmaster was draped in pale green silk this morning.

'Please, have a seat.'

Harry nodded, and sat himself in front of the breakfast table, the smell of the food making him feel desperately hungry in spite of the early hour.

'Thank you, sir.' He said respectfully.

The headmaster smiled gently, and began spreading what looked like marmite over a croissant. They sat together, eating in silence for a few minutes, before Harry felt he should say something.

'Can I ask what we'll be doing today, sir?'

Dumbledore eyed him carefully before nodding.

'Of course. I will let you into a little secret, Harry.' He began conspiratorially. 'I wanted to wait until Friday for our first meeting so that I would have occasion to speak to some of your professors about your work… oh, don't worry, don't worry; I was circumspect.' He promised, correctly reading into Harry's frown that he was concerned about drawing attention from teachers who weren't supposed to be aware of his identity.

'And what did they tell you about me?' Harry asked, half annoyed and half curious.

'Many things, many things.' Professor Dumbledore replied irritatingly, as he pretended to be distracted brushing some crumbs from his beard.

'But of course, you wanted to know what we would be talking about today.' Dumbledore continued after another mouthful. 'I thought we could begin with a discussion of Light and Dark magic.' He said cheerfully.

Harry nodded politely, curious.

Professor Dumbledore slid his plate to one side and drew his teacup to sit in front of him before steepling his fingers above it.

'I suspect, having grown up with Nicholas and Perenelle, that you are already well familiar with some of the natural divisions in this substance we wizards call magic.' He began contemplatively. 'The most obvious of which is, of course, that between the Light and the Dark. A great many theories about the substance of magic have been put forwards over the years, and I do not intend to discuss in any detail the merits of the various cases, cases which, I personally suspect, will never completely be resolved. Instead, perhaps, it is simplest for our purposes to think of magic simply as a form of energy possessed of certain characteristics. As an active force and, in some ways, an almost sentient entity.

Since the earliest wizards first put down their stone tools and began to shape the world with the energy they found that they, and they alone, could control, there has been a rough divide, a divide in the nature of magic that has only deepened through the millennia. Magic, like anything with sentience, or some approximation of it, has conflicting desires. There was a muggle scientist once, who explained it rather well, albeit unknowingly, when he wrote that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. In the world, in the very substance of creation, there must always be a kind of balance between forces, for too strong a pull in one direction is almost inevitably catastrophic. Magic, you see, can only be balanced out by itself; it is too powerful to be restrained by anything else. Magic gave itself into the hands of witches and wizards, but as a self-regulating force; for which we should all be thankful.'

Harry nodded. The ancient man was describing things he knew, but he had such a calm, compelling voice that it was hard not to be fascinated.

'Various pressures,' Professor Dumbledore continued, 'have contributed to deepening this division of magic through the centuries, as magical folk discovered that they could penetrate further into the nature of magic by dedicating themselves exclusively to one of its sides; that they could become more powerful than those who refused to commit themselves and attempted to walk a balanced path. Eventually, by the time of the Roman Empire you had magical people declaring their allegiance, as it were. You see, by devoting yourself, committing yourself, to Dark magic, or to Light magic, people began to notice that they seemed to gain its favour. It not only made them more powerful, but became a drug to them, intoxicating them, turning them against those who had not chosen their side.

And so, conflict bred and deepened, and Rome fell. Now, of course, we know the dangers of intolerance, and have suffered great losses in the process, but our dedication to our sides has never wavered, for we all seek power and knowledge, and we cannot follow both paths.'

Harry inclined his head again, sipping his orange juice.

'In this country it is, alas, a particularly deep division. Magic has always appeared to be particularly fond of Britain and its people, and so, in addition to supporting a larger magical population than any other country, we have a society characterised by particularly powerful bloodlines which entrench their dedications in order to perpetuate their strength.'

'Which is why Britain has tended to be one of the less… peaceful countries in the magical world.'

Dumbledore inclined his head this time.

'Just so. And that brings us rather neatly onto Lords by Magic.'

Harry couldn't help but sit up a little, bearing in mind both what he'd been told of the prophecy, and that the man in front of him was one of perhaps a dozen publicly identified Lords by Magic in the entire world.

'Britain has a particular propensity for breeding us, I fear.' The headmaster continued. 'And this creates a twofold problem, you see. Power tends to corrupt even the best of us, and there is no headier strength than the blessings given by Magic. When a witch or wizard of sufficient strength to assert themself a Lord, or Lady, by Magic, declares for the Light or the Dark, then a spark within them takes light and grows, builds within them a desire for knowledge, for power and strength and conquest and domination, for all of the things that have started so very many wars.'

Harry wasn't sure what to say. This was certainly not information he knew, in fact, he thought it was probably information almost no-one knew

'I myself have fought against these inclinations for more than a century.' Dumbledore admitted calmly, taking a small bite of shortbread. 'And I hope to be able to claim that I have been more successful than most in restraining myself; hope that in the battles I have fought I have never been the aggressor.'

Harry was taken aback in spite of himself; Professor Dumbledore was being remarkably, even discomfortingly, open with him.

'I fought against Grindelwald when he sought domination for himself and for the Dark, and I fought against Voldemort when he crusaded for the same.' He paused. 'You see, it is my cross to bear, in a way, for magic will always seek a balance; and as a declared Light Lord by Magic the only counterbalance to me is an equal devoted to the Dark. And yet, my opposite numbers have always been corrupted to the point of war.'

'So, are Lords by Magic a good thing, sir?' Harry asked, slightly surprised by his own temerity.

The headmaster chuckled, however.

'Perhaps, perhaps not.' He replied. 'Certainly the world might be simpler without us, but equally, there are many instances of Lords by Magic achieving remarkable things that have come to benefit all of us. These issues, I fear, are complex; but when magic has given no indication of stopping blessing certain of its children with inordinate strength, then there is little we can do but make the best of the situations we are given.'

'Yes, sir.' Harry replied, hiding his uncertainty as his mind whirled.

The twinkling gaze Dumbledore fixed on him seemed uncomfortably penetrating, though, as he dismissed Harry to his first class.

The day, after that, seemed to go by particularly slowly. Harry sat patiently through a single period of World Studies where the professor attempted to describe the magic behind making land Unplottable, a single period of Potions where Professor Snape seemed to be in a particularly ill-temper as he swept up and down the rows delivering his lecture, and then endured a double period of Magical Theory where a Daphne who still didn't seem quite her usual self sat next to him and muttered irritably about the simplicity of the work.

At least Defence Against the Dark Arts proved more interesting, as Professor Lupin looked slightly nervously at Harry as he came in before apologising for the absence of boggart to those who'd missed out on facing it the last time, and delivered a comparatively muted talk and examination of the still dazed-looking Grindylows floating in the swampy water of their tank.

'Mr Flamel, could you stay behind a moment, please?'

'Professor… I've got Quidditch training now.' Harry tried to object, not really wanting to talk to the man after their last conversation.

'This won't take a minute.' Professor Lupin promised calmly, watching the last few of Harry's classmates leave the room safely.

He came over to where Harry was standing behind his desk, bag over one shoulder.

'I should apologise for our last lesson. It's one I've given for several years now without a problem, but I appreciate that it could cause… problems.' He finished, slightly uncomfortably. 'I would like to thank you for raising you concerns, although I would appreciate it if, in future, you could phrase them more civilly.'

Harry nodded at the unexpected apology, suddenly feeling a little guilty himself.

'Yes, sir, and thank you.' He said politely, before leaving hastily.

'You ready?'

Harry looked at Liram's grinning face and smirked back.

'Always.'

Liram had waited outside the classroom for Harry, and they made their way down to the entrance hall together before walking out across the grounds to the changing rooms built into the bottom of the Quidditch stadium's stands.

'Bang on time, good.' Sullivan Fawley said, nodding approvingly as they came in.

Harry attempted to keep his gaze averted from all the smooth skin and muscular flesh on display as the team and reserves changed around him, focusing on pulling his own gear from the locker that now bore his name.

'Where are Brayden and Ethan?' Fawley asked no one in particular, slapping his gloves irritably against his thigh. 'Come in!' He barked when a polite knock came at the door, and the team's one female player entered, fully dressed in her blue and bronze training kit and looking around curiously.

'Sorry we're late, boss; Flitwick overran.'

Fawley eyed the two Beaters impassively as they came in a few moments behind her, looking flushed but not particularly guilty. The slightly stockier one, who Harry thought was Ethan, had been the one to speak, and was also the one to notice the girl in their midst.

'Hey, beautiful,' he said, whistling admiringly at Myrellie as he stripped off his shirt and tie and looked at her suggestively. 'You've arrived just in time for the show.'

She looked at him, apparently unimpressed, as he stepped out of his trousers and rotated his boxer-clad waist suggestively.

'Back off, Fernsby.' Jacob, the other new Chaser, who Harry assumed was dating Myrellie, said coolly.

'No need to get defensive, Allington.' Ethan mocked, before rubbing himself obscenely. 'We can't all be packing what I've got.'

'Genital warts, wasn't it?' Myrellie remarked lightly, eyeing the boy's crotch with apparent distaste. 'At least… that was the rumour I heard last year.'

The boy flushed as the team laughed.

'Right!' Fawley exclaimed, calling them to order. 'First practise of the year, and with lots of new faces. Our first match is against Gryffindor just before the end of term, and we'll be drilling hard to be ready for them. They've lost Oliver Wood, and they're going to be struggling…' He spoke for a couple more minutes before he went over to a blackboard stuck to the locker room wall and started to draw diagrams. They spent almost an hour staring at his scrawlings and listening to his lecture, and it wasn't until Fawley was convinced that every player in the room had memorised the tactics they would be rehearsing that he led them out onto the pitch.

'Well, that was fun,' Harry commented lightly to Liram as they made their way back up to the castle, having changed into casual clothes now that they were free for the weekend.

'It was exhausting.' His friend moaned, even though Fawley had put the reserves through a shorter series of simpler plays than the full team had had to endure.

'We'll get used to it.' Harry said reassuringly, playing down his own exhilaration.

'Flamel.'

'Hi Zacharias, but, please, call me Harry.' Harry said, plastering on a smile and enjoying the flicker of irritation that crossed the other boy's face.

'Harry.' Smith repeated after moment. 'Do you have any idea what we're doing?'

'Not a clue.' Harry replied cheerfully, glancing round the empty entrance hall. Professor McGonagall's note had merely told them to be there at half past eight on Saturday.

Shit. Harry thought to himself when he heard a faint meow from behind him. Only one cat at Hogwarts was allowed to roam the school freely after the dinner hour.

'You two, come wiv me.'

Argus Filch, Hogwarts' ancient caretaker, was as grimy as his school was clean. He fixed the pair of them with a terrifying, wild-eyed stare before grunting and stomping off towards the main doors.

They followed obediently, and Harry quickly became grateful that he'd grabbed a warm jacket and pair of gloves as they stepped out into the frigid evening and set off across the grounds in the direction of Hagrid's enormous hut.

'What are we doing?' Zacharias asked, sounding slightly on-edge.

Filch chuckled.

'Yer going to be spending the night in the Forbidden Forest.' He told them with an entirely evil expression.

'But we're not allowed to go there…' Zacharias said, sounding both arrogant and uncertain.

'Hagrid will keep ye safe.' Filch told them, smirking in a way that gave obvious lie to his words.

'Alright boys?'

'For now.' Harry replied to the bearded giant's greeting, rotating his wrist to feel the reassuring press of his wand against his forearm.

Hagrid didn't seem to appreciate the comment, and just beamed down at the two of them, yanking back the massive boar hound he was holding on a leash as the creature tried to lurch towards them. Harry couldn't help but follow Zacharias' glance back for a moment, watching the warm light of Filch's lantern drift back towards the safety of the castle.

'So…' Harry began, trying to make the best of a bad situation. 'What are we doing tonight?'

'Well I'm just doing me normal round of the forest.' Hagrid told them. 'I go out a couple of times a week just so I know it's all under control.'

'Under control.' Zacharias repeated dubiously, eyeing the nearby stretch of forest as though he expected a mob of bloodthirsty vampires to suddenly charge out of the trees.

Hagrid nodded.

'Yep. We've got centaurs and unicorns and acromantulas and hippogriffs and the only herd of thestrals in the whole of Britain.' Hagrid told them proudly.

'Acromantulas.' Zacharias echoed, what little colour his face had held suddenly draining.

'How long is this going to take, Hagrid?' Harry asked, wanting to lose sleep almost as little as he wanted to be attacked by a spider the size of a horse.

'Couple of hours or so.' The man replied, beaming happily as he turned and stomped off.

Harry couldn't help but flick his wand into his hand as they stepped beneath the collective shadow of the great, gnarled trees. It seemed even colder in the forest than it had been out on the grass, and Harry could feel the automatic warming charms on his clothing strengthening their protection against the chill. The path Hagrid was leading them down was winding and snarled frequently with roots, barely wide enough for the huge man to go down.

'Do we have to do this at night?' Zacharias asked from his position walking next to Harry.

'Of course.' Hagrid said. 'Most of the creatures in the forest aren't really active in the day, ye see, so if we want to talk to them we have to come out at night.'

'Talk to them… talk to them…' Harry heard Zacharias muttering incredulously under his breath, the other boy's attention firmly on the ground beneath his feet as he focused on not tripping over. Harry had taken the opportunity to cast a spell that would give light only to himself, the tip of his wand emitting a soft red glow that wouldn't inhibit his night vision too much.

'Look there!' Hagrid exclaimed suddenly in a whisper that was louder than most people's speaking voice, stopping so suddenly that the two students following him almost ran into his broad back. They peered around the groundskeeper, and Harry's breath caught in his throat at the sight in the small, moonlit clearing they found themselves standing at the edge of. A great male unicorn, at least eighteen hands high, gleamed with an unearthly glow in the pale light as he took a drink from the waters of a narrow stream. Even Professor Dumbledore's phoenix would look a little wan besides such magnificence, Harry couldn't help but think as he stood there, barely daring to breathe lest the creature leave them. He needn't have worried though, for after a brief, still moment Hagrid's hound barked loudly. The stallion raised its huge, white head and looked straight at them through large dark eyes before tossing its mane and trotting slowly off.

'Fang!' Hagrid reprimanded his pet as soon as the unicorn had left them, its shining hide quickly disappearing into the trees. The dog seemed unrepentant, barking briefly once more, before dragging his owner off across the abandoned clearing.

They followed Hagrid in silence for the next half hour, stepping carefully as he led them quietly through another, much larger clearing full of sleeping hippogriffs. Harry was amused to note that Fang, too, seemed to know better than to rouse any of the proud creatures. The trees were pressing ever-thicker around them, though, and the slanting beams of light reflecting from the almost full moon began to be filtered out by the knotted branches sprouting from the ancient trunks around them.

'This is the deep forest now.' Hagrid told them reverently, his breath beginning to mist in the air in front of him. 'It's only me that comes here from the castle, nowadays. Even Professor Grubbly-Plank won't come too far. Worried she'll get lost.'

Harry couldn't blame her, for he'd only managed to keep a very general sense of the direction they'd been travelling in as they followed the meandering track.

'Here we are!' Hagrid told them happily, coming to a halt in front of a tree whose trunk must have been as wide as Hogwarts' entrance hall.

Harry looked at the great, black cavern at the base of its trunk that Hagrid was beaming into and tightened his grip on his wand as Zacharias glanced nervously at the groundskeeper.

A tense silence settled over the group as they waited, before eventually a low whine became audible, growing slowly in volume. Harry could hear the leaves on the forest floor start to rustle all around them, and swallowed as he saw big, dark, many-legged shapes begin to descend smoothly from the canopy above.

'Fuck.' Zacharias muttered, and Harry couldn't help but agree as a spider that must easily have weighed as much as the unicorn they'd seen earlier emerged from its burrow. Eight gleaming black eyes, each as wide as Harry's outspread hand, fixed on Hagrid.

'My friend.'

Harry had read somewhere that acromantulas had been known, on occasion, to learn to talk in human tongues, but hearing that great, hairy, crouching mass speak with a man's voice was still something of a shock.

''Ello Aragog' Hagrid said cheerfully. ''Ow's it going with you?'

'I am well, Hagrid.' The immense spider said slowly. 'Are these humans you bring to be food for my children?'

Harry half raised his wand as he swallowed nervously, not really sure how he was going to defend himself against the onslaught of the thousands upon thousands of spiders he could sense rustling in the shadowed forest around them.

'No, no.' Hagrid said hastily. 'They're students from the school just coming on me round with me this evening.'

Gleaming pincers the size of machete blades clicked with irritation at that, but the spider seemed to accept Hagrid's assertion.

'I will warn you, Hagrid, that the disturbance in the forest continues.' The spider declared, before turning and dragging itself heavily away.

Harry glanced up at the groundskeeper and noted his suddenly grim expression.

'Well, we'd best be getting on.' He said gruffly, before stomping off, pulling Fang after him. Zacharias seemed almost to be shaking as he hastened after the reassuringly solid figure, Harry taking up the rear as he looked warily around at the hundreds of massive spiders now scuttling away into the darkness.

'Hagrid?' Harry asked after a few minutes. 'What did… Aragog… mean about a disturbance?' He hoped he'd heard the spider's name correctly.

'Oh, nuffink for you to worry yourself about.' Hagrid said, though Harry noticed that his tone wasn't quite as reassuring as it had been previously, and that their pace had picked up considerably.

Harry jerked slightly with nervous surprise as Zacharias stumbled next to him, the other boy barely keeping his feet as he tripped over a root and cursed softly. The light of the moon was a bare few fingers of light clawing down through the trees by now, and the path was becoming increasingly treacherous. Fang was sniffing about and snuffling uncertainly as he scouted ahead, running back to his master frequently for reassurance. A sudden whine from the massive boar hound had Harry gripping his Ollivander wand more tightly, and begin to regret having accepted Zacharias' challenge.

'Well bugger me!'

Hagrid's sudden, booming exclamation seemed so odd that Harry couldn't help but let out a sudden snort of nervous laughter before he edged forwards to see what had prompted the giant man's cry.

A narrow stream curled through the forest just in front of them, and on its far side stood a tent. It seemed a perfectly ordinary construction of greying canvas, neatly pegged-out on a small expanse of flat ground. There was no sign of life, and so the three humans and Fang stood in silence for a few seconds, staring at the bizarre sight.

'Well, had best take a look.' Hagrid mumbled eventually, crossing the stream in a single stride and slapping a massive hand against the tied-shut entrance.

''Ello!' He shouted. 'Anyone home?'

Harry rolled his eyes at the approach, aiming his wand at the tent's opening as he joined the groundskeeper.

There was no response.

'Do we look inside?' Zacharias asked uncertainly.

Hagrid stood frowning as Fang sniffed his way around the outside of the tent.

'Best not.' He decided eventually. 'I dunno about anyone camping in the forest, but it might be that they're allowed and I don't want to trespass when it ain't none of my business. I'll make me report to Professor Dumbledore.'

Harry was only too glad to nod along with the decision. The tent gave him something of an ill-feeling, and he was eager to return to the warmth and relative security of the castle.

Hagrid tried calling out again, and banged on the tent's canvas roof before they set off, following the bank of the stream in a lazy curve that led them eventually back to beneath the thinning canopy at the forest's edge.

'I'd best be coming with you.' Hagrid told them as Hogwarts' torchlit splendour came into view on its bluff. 'Need to speak to Dumbledore.'

'But it's gone midnight…' Harry pointed out, glancing at his watch. He'd decided he wanted to probe the situation. 'Can't it wait until breakfast?'

'Best let 'im know now.' Hagrid said, stumping up the broad path through the castle grounds.

Hagrid had dismissed Zacharias and himself to bed as soon as they'd reached the entrance hall, and so Harry made his way up to the Ravenclaw dormitories still full of questions.

'How was it?'

Harry looked up with surprise at the whispered question, half undressed for bed as he turned to see Liram looking at him curiously.

'You waited up for me?' He asked, amused to see the other boy look slightly embarrassed.

'In fairness, I didn't expect you to be back so late.' Liram attempted to defend himself.

Harry nodded.

'Nor did I. It was… interesting, I suppose.' He proceeded to recount his adventure to his friend, who sat listening wide-eyed.

'They actually sent you out into the forest?' Liram asked incredulously, shuddering at Harry's description of the acromantula colony.

'Yeah. I don't know whose idea it was, but I suppose it's not a bad way if discouraging students from breaking the rules.'

Liram snorted.

'Kind of ironic that your punishment for breaking the rules is getting to break like the ultimate school rule and go into the Forbidden Forest at night.'

'Exactly. Not sure Zacharias is thinking of it that way, though.'

Liram smirked.

'He was scared?'

'Practically shaking.' Harry felt a little guilty for mocking the other boy's obvious discomfort, but it was hard not to when he was so insufferably arrogant the rest of the time.

'Well, I suppose we should get to bed.' Liram said after they'd spent a few more minutes discussing the evening's events.

Harry nodded and stripped down to the underwear he slept in before slipping beneath his covers, settling himself and absentmindedly beginning to stroke the cat that had leapt up to curl against his side. He couldn't seem to get back to sleep, the rush of adrenaline brought on by his walk in the forest still humming in his veins. His mind wouldn't stop turning over the events of the evening, jerking from the massive, flashing pincers of the enormous spider to the terrified look on Zacharias' face when he spotted one of its children dangling from a web a few feet above his head. But his thoughts always returned to that tent, and the sense of dread it had instilled in him as he approached. He couldn't be certain what had caused his instinctive response, what had brought his magic snarling up defensively against his will, but he'd only experienced a similar sensation a few times before in his life. All of those occasions had been when Perenelle was using Blood Magic.

Author's note: Apologies for the amount of exposition in the conversation at the beginning of this chapter, I just needed to get some outlines in, and this was the slickest way I could think of doing it. Hopefully it didn't prove too onerous, and hopefully detention in the forest makes up for it a little.

(The plot is actually going somewhere now :O)