AN: Wow, okay, so… where to start?
Well, first off, we hit 1000 favs/follows! Yeah! Thank you all so much for favoriting/following and enjoying my fic!
Next topic; I graduated from University in May. I now hold a Bachelor's of Science in Chemical Engineering (with a slight biomolecular/organic process emphasis) from an accredited 4-year University Program.
Which means squat when looking for jobs these days. Basically, what I've been doing for the entire Summer and Fall so far. (I'm guessing that's where the B.S. in my degree comes in)
Yeah, writing got put off for a while. Firstly, from needing to focus on not-failing a course at the very, very end of college and having to re-take an expensive semester. Then, from returning home and doing job searches, maintaining the house, and helping my mom and dad with whatever projects crop up. It's been a bit worse since my dad got a medical condition in his arm last July.
…
So… not many people liked the fact that I put Harry in Gryffindor. We did lose a few followers. I was actually planning the re-sort for a while, but it was honestly pretty disheartening to see review after review upset about Harry's re-sort.
And I wondered… why did I do it?
Then, it came to me.
I know so many fics have Harry in Gryffindor to the point that it's cliché. I know that so many fics have him just wind up in Gryffindor somehow and it's a bit boring. I know Harry Potter, ward of Slenderman, is a Ravenclaw at heart.
But why did I do it?
Simple.
Why else would I take him from one House and put him in a house where the most conflict and trouble is bound to happen? Why else would I put him in a House where privacy and common courtesy are "suggestions"? Where bold, brazen, and ballsy moves is lauded openly and encouraged? Where the most narrow-minded Holier-than-thou Light-people cluster together?
Where Harry is going to be pulling out his hair and reactions are bound to leave them all dumbfounded?
See where I'm going with this?
Plus, I thought a story of Dumbledore being blocked at every turn conveniently might be too boring or Mary-Sue levels of convenient. He is a manipulative bastard and Slender is as new to this society as Harry; mistakes will be made, but rest assured that Slenderman will put his own… personal touch to threats to those he cares about.
As I said, so many reviews were about the resort (and the lack of updates) that nobody got the Easter Egg. I'll admit, it was vague and, even then, the AN was a bit muddled there. But still, I thought someone might have asked about it.
Oh, well, I promised I'd reveal it.
Eyeless Jack saw a certain DNA sequence ATGGCTGGAATATGT on specifically Chromosome 13 with at least 77 repeats.
In DNA, every 3 "letters" makes an amino acid. These amino acids are strung together into proteins. Each amino acid has a name, a 3-letter abbreviation, and a single-letter symbol associated with it, too.
So, it becomes:
ATG-GCT-GGA-ATA-TGT
Methionine-Alanine-Glycine-Isoleucine-Cysteine
Met Ala Gly Ise Cys
M-A-G-I-C
Literally, a "magic" protein.
Just a subtle thing that made the extra time looking up DNA/RNA/amino acid coding worth it. To biologists or people who love genetics, if I flipped it by accident (and I very well could have), I apologize, but sometimes it's difficult to interpret if some tables are sequencing amino acids with the template or coding DNA strand in mind.
Either way, I hope you enjoy this new (and hopefully long-awaited?) installment of Harry by Proxy.
Sincerely,
-Crow
Harry woke up in the morning without the harsh, blinding light from the ceiling of the Ravenclaw Tower. In fact, he woke up in pretty much solid darkness as the four-poster beds did a pretty decent job of blocking out light.
Still, even without the aid of an artificial sun, he woke up pretty early. His dormmates were all in their beds. Surprisingly, the quiet one, Neville, snored almost as loudly as the red-haired boy, Ron. Either way, none of them woke up with him shuffling around quietly.
He walked down and took a second to feel a sense of relief that the entire common area was empty for a change. Ravenclaws were notorious for effectively passing out on top of books or in chairs in the Tower, so pretty much every morning after the first day, he and Adrian would find a couple 'claws mumbling incoherently while drooling on either upholstery or a smudged book page that would cause a mini-meltdown when they finally woke up (Madame Pince wasn't above banning Ravenclaws from their precious, precious library privileges for a solid few days. Harry saw it once already to a seventh year… it wasn't a pretty sight).
He made his way out from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady in pink and walked through the almost completely empty corridors of early-morning Hogwarts. He noted a few of the enchanted suits of armor had slouched a bit in the early hours and creaked loudly as they tried to discretely jerk themselves back into position, noticing him approach.
Finally, he found the large entrance to the Great Hall and took a seat at the Hufflepuff table, quietly grateful that Nick and Adrian had already beaten him to it. In no time at all, he was gratefully digging into some nice porridge and bacon with a side of hash-
SPLAT!
He froze in position, lips thinned in a good imitation of Professor McGonagall's as he processed the once-delicious brown sugar with maple syrup porridge currently on his face and on his sleeves. The other two were looking at him with a mix of humor and surprise, the blast radius of mush having just missed them. As one, they looked up at the offending brown tawny owl fluttering crookedly before swooping back down and landing on their table.
It looked up at them…
…
-before suddenly snatching a piece of crispy bacon from the plate with its beak and ungracefully flapping its wings back up towards the exit windows at the top of the Hall.
Harry looked down at the table, now covered in a few molted tawny feathers and he picked up a bacon-oil-stained paper off of his plate. Sadly, his muffin did not survive the impact.
…
"This system is horribly inefficient," He finally said, grabbing a napkin to wipe away most of the meal out of his hair and clothes.
"Well, maybe if we're lucky, it'll send a paper to Slendy," Nick grinned, "I'm pretty sure with a bird like that, he wouldn't be as against Smile and Rake eating it."
They shared a moment of vindictive pleasure in imagining the rude, grody owl at the mercy of the Rake.
Harry grabbed some more bacon from plates further down the table where the feathery plumage hadn't contaminated anything. They started talking about how things changed in Ravenclaw now that Harry had moved out. Apparently, people were either kind-of upset that they lost the Harry Potter or nonchalantly saying 'it was bound to happen, his parents were in Gryffindor'.
Absently, he flicked open the pages of the Prophet and almost immediately wished it hadn't survived the porridge. The front page had an entire article about his re-sorting. The actual sorting decision was a blurb, but the rest was flimsy speculation from the reporter and vague conjectures on his home life.
"How did they even manage to print this out that quickly?" He snarled, angrily tossing the paper aside.
"Don't worry, Harry. That stuff's bull and we all know it." Nick commented, noticing the article.
"The laws here are different," Adrian thought aloud. "First Amendment isn't a thing here, so maybe there are Libel laws you can use to your advantage?"
Harry frowned, "I'll ask Slender, but I don't think it's really applicable. First off, Wizarding Britain and UK Britain seem to have independent laws from one another. Plus, if I say anything, it'll just put me in the spotlight even more. I want it to die down a bit." He admitted.
"Alright, man." Nick nodded understandingly. "But we're still behind you 100%. Anyone messes with you and we kick their ass from here to France. 'Murica-style!" Harry snorted some orange juice in choked laughter, but nodded gratefully.
"So, Harry," Adrian began as the smaller boy collected himself. "How's the Lion's Den?"
"Awful," Harry groaned, "Easily 99% are fawning over me as some kind of 'hero', and the last 1% is Ronald. Naffing. Weasley!"
"Harry! I don't know British-speak, but I think that's offensive!" Nick mock-exclaimed.
"Don't care! That absolute prick is getting on my last nerve! If it's not him prattling on about that broom-sport Quidditch, he's asking for a game of chess! And if it's not either of those things, it's him going on about how Gryffindor is superior and Slytherin can rot in Hell. Seriously, he's insulted three-quarters of the school and a couple Gryffindors he doesn't feel are 'Lion Material'. I wasn't 'Lion Material' until Dumbledore stuck his nose in."
Harry gave a tired huff. "Sorry, but he's really insufferable. I get the impression he feels like he's already my 'friend' and he has permission to monopolize my time to shirk off with him."
"Nah, s'okay." Nick replied, taking a bite of waffle. "We met him, remember? He was an ass then, too."
Adrian nodded in agreement, "So, anything else you want to get off your chest?"
"I really, really miss the Ravenclaw Private Library in the Common Room," Harry admitted. "The Gryffindor… 'Library' (he had to roll his eyes) is absolutely pitiful! It's a single bookshelf in a corner. There are maybe five actual textbooks that are just standard texts. In all likelihood, someone probably just misplaced them and they got stuffed there. Everything else are Quidditch magazines, a vast collection of these teen-trend magazines called Witch Weekly, and a couple books on Quidditch history and game rules."
"Sounds like Hell," Adrian commented. To a Ravenclaw, it was.
"And it gets weirder, too!" Harry continued, "One of the textbooks isn't even real! It's hollowed out and filled with… of all things… these individually sealed packets of those weird carnival balloon thingies. The kind LJ uses for balloon animals?"
"That's just… bizarre," Nick commented, as confused as the 11-year-old. Adrian, on the other hand, had a rare look of slight discomfort, disgust, and awkwardness.
"How have things been back at the Mansion? Any word?" Harry asked, oblivious.
"Good. Fine. Yes, the Mansion's fine." Adrian rather quickly responded. "Slender says everyone's been alright, even if the rotation guard will become more difficult to maintain as time goes on. We may be on our own by November. People will start asking questions if the others are always hanging around. God knows why Dumbledore allowed them in the first place."
"Slender thinks it's to get to know us. In a less-than-pleasant kind of way," Harry commented grimly.
"Like trying to get to you?" Nick asked the unspoken question.
"Mm-hm." Harry shuddered, choosing to dig into some more bacon.
A commotion started up behind them and they turned to see the bleached-blonde boy from Slytherin, Malfoy, smugly inspecting a small, glass orb about the size of a small orange. The Gryffindor table was glaring collectively at him, but only the ones within a couple feet seemed to be noteworthy. Namely, the round-faced boy Neville was cowering meekly in the face of Malfoy's book-end bodyguards, the red-headed first year, Ronald, was red-faced with anger and on his feet clearly itching to start an all-out brawl, and a few assorted Gryffindors that seemed just indignant to be in the general vicinity of the Slytherin.
Almost instantly, the stern Transfiguration Mistress waltzed up unnoticed behind Malfoy and shooed him off, after ensuring he returned the glass orb to Neville.
"Do you think we should get involved?" Nick said.
"Nah."
"Me neither."
And so, they returned to their breakfast.
That morning saw them all lining up outside in a rare instance where everyone from all of the other houses were also present. As they stood waiting for the instructor to show up, Nick introduced the other two to some of his Hufflepuff housemates that seemed amicable enough, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot. Harry was a bit discomforted by the fact that both girls (both from wizarding homes) were rather star-struck when his brother-in-crime introduced them.
It was only a short wait before Professor Rolanda Hooch showed up in the grassy courtyard. The students privately wondered if she was like McGonagall and could turn into an animal, namely a hawk. Her short spiked, gray-white hair, sharp nose, and sharper gold eyes gave a distinct impression of the large bird of prey coupled with a habit of swiveling her head in short jerks towards whatever caught her attention.
A few mumbled 'good morning's as she walked down the rows and turned on her heel at the end to face them all. "Good morning, everyone! Welcome to your first and likely only flying lesson!"
A few students, mainly muggleborns, looked dismayed before she continued, "Now, before you get yourselves in a twist, I should explain that the broom is reasonably easy to master and you should get it down pat in the next hour or so. School brooms are available for recreational flying on the grounds of Hogwarts provided you have a spotter and the brooms are signed out and signed back in at the boathouse storage area. Personal brooms are only permitted by Second Years and above. That in mind, you may still ride a broomstick even if you are not on the Quidditch House Team."
Students brightened instantly, before Hooch's eyes sharpened again, "However, I will warn you that there are strict Ministerial laws and guidelines to owning private brooms, particularly with muggleborns in densely populated muggle locations. A flying broomstick is not something you can easily hide, even at night. I encourage you to look into it before you even think of buying one in the Alley next year. That said, let's begin."
She waved her wand absently and brooms flew from a small shed by the lake in a row at each of their feet. The brooms were old, worn, and beaten up rather badly. Many had noticeable bald spots in the bristles and others had cracks or splinters in the handle. She instructed them to shout 'UP' forcefully to feel the broom zoom into their hands. Harry's immediately shot into his hand, smacking his palm. Adrian's was resistant and bucked a few times on the ground before jerkily moving into his hand.
Nick's whacked him in the groin.
"Oh, get up boy, it builds proper character," Hooch argued to the prone corpse kneeling on the ground. Other houses were either snickering or outright laughing. She turned to the rest as he inched his way to standing. "Up, up! Everyone mount their brooms!"
"Wait!"
The entire class turned towards the entrance of the school as a small pink blur sped across the grass. Following closely behind was a black-and-white blur with a straggling figure in white, clearly trying to keep up.
"Haaaaarrrrryyyyyyy!" Harry almost buckled as the pink blur whammed into his chest. He looked down and saw Sally, eyes shining with excitement, grinning back. "Are you gonna fly, Harry? Like on brooms and stuff?"
Smile woofed energetically, happy to bound around in the excitement around the girl in pink. Jeff came stumbling up, winded and miffed. "Sally! You're not supposed to run around the castle like that."
She ignored him in favor of Harry, "We heard from a teacher that today was the flying lesson! The only flying lesson! We couldn't miss it!"
Harry chuckled as he started prying the smaller girl off of him. Professor Hooch was less amused, "Young lady, stop disrupting my class at once!"
Sally, realizing for the first time the other people staring at her in amusement, surprise, or disgust (Malfoy and co.), shrunk back cowed by the woman's anger.
"Sorry, ma'am," Jeff said to the adult, "she got away from me and decided to run ahead. I couldn't really stop her-"
"Well see that you try harder next time," The woman snapped, popping open a small pocket watch from her robes, "We're already behind schedule! Everyone step forward in mounting positions!" She went around, quickly correcting everyone's stances and positions. Sally retreated with Smile and Jeff to the sidelines, watching with keen interest. Even Jeff couldn't deny he was interested.
"Now, on my whistle you will kick off from the ground hard. Keep your brooms steady, hover, and come back down. Three- Two- *tweeeeeet*"
Everyone pushed off the ground like they were about to hop in place and many inexperienced were amazed when they stayed hovering in mid-air. Sally gaped openly at them all, waving excitedly to Harry who waved back from his position about 3 feet off the ground. He couldn't stop the grin that threatened to split his head open. Even just as high as the low setting on the Dumbo Ride with Kida, it was exhilarating to be freed from the Earth!
He glanced around and saw a few stragglers were left behind. Neville Longbottom being one of them, giving half-hearted hops but clearly fearful of going higher. One of the others was Nick, who looked distinctly uncomfortable with the whole idea and didn't even do the bunny-hops Neville was attempting.
"Come on, lads, give it a go!" Hooch shouted tersely. Neville jumped, frightened, and shot up like a cork in water a solid few yards before dropping suddenly back to a position a solid few feet above the rest. He was almost in tears as he gripped the broom and willed it lower to level off with the rest.
Nick, however,-
"Mr. Brahms, if you don't even try then I will dock House Points!"
Nick shut his eyes and pushed off on the ground. He rose swiftly a solid 20 feet and his eyes snapped open to the size of dinner plates before he hugged the broomstick with both arms and legs. The broom slowly descended and on passing the other students could hear him muttering 'downdowndowndowndowndown' without breaking eye-contact with the ground.
The broom hit the ground and he thumped on his side, finally releasing the wooden cleaning instrument and curling into the fetal position, croaking gutturally in a way that reminded Harry of Toshio's mother.
Students struggled to contain laughter despite some of their own previous apprehensions. Hooch was far less impressed. "Oh, get up, boy! We're still moving on!"
Over the next five minutes, they repeated some basic routines. Point up, rise, hover, point down, sink, repeat. They made these wavy patterns for a while, snaking their way across the courtyard lawn, Harry and a few others with previous experience getting it down pat in no time, while most either overshot or dropped out of the air entirely.
Nick, though, was the butt of most jokes. He clutched the broom like a koala on a branch with arms and feet and it slowly rose and fell, but always hovered only a foot off the ground at a pace barely above crawling. Madame Hooch bemusedy walked beside him, easily matching speed. Despite threats of points lost, he vehemently refused to fly any higher. Hooch took off 5 points from Hufflepuff and sighed, admitting he was at least doing the exercises.
After the basic material, was free reign.
And Harry loved it.
He instantly zoomed from elevation where his toes could skim grass to 5, 10, 20 feet high! He pushed the ancient broom to its speed limits, sincerely enjoying the wind whipping in his face. He instantly envied all of the flying tenants; even Mothman! They got to enjoy this every day and it was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
The adept fliers were already forming basic games like tag or toss-the-sickle, while others were either working their way up there or contentedly flying low. Nick being the one slowly gliding along at a kiddy-ride's pace.
A few minutes in, and he landed by a practically bursting Sally. He glanced at Hooch and got a bemused nod of approval before the ghost-girl hopped in front of him on the broom and he took off. She shrieked in joy as he gave a less-risky, but still thrilling flight around the courtyard. Jeff watched on, smirking at Sally's excited screams echoing off the stonework.
In all the chaos of fifty-or-so 11-year-olds zooming around a confined space, nobody noticed as Neville Longbottom slowly rose higher. He immediately felt himself rising and tried pushing his broom downward, but tipping the handle forward only resulted in a backward corkscrew-upward rise. A couple Slytherins noticed the awkward ascent and cackled. Malfoy, in particular, saw an opening.
The blond swooped by the startled Gryffindor and he lost his grip on the broom, landing on the ground with a painful-sounding crack!
"Everybody down!" Hooch cried out, blowing her whistle urgently as she rushed to the downed student. Everyone landed, murmuring amongst each other and eyeing the chubby boy whimpering slightly as Madame Hooch inspected his arm. Harry winced as he saw the hand bent at an awkward angle at the wrist.
Hooch helped him to his feet before addressing the class. "Now, you are all to stay on the ground while I escort Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing, understood? One broom in the air and the rider will be expelled faster than they can say 'Quidditch'."
She led the boy back into the castle as the students started muttering about the incident, their flight, or whatever. Their attention was redirected to a loud, scoffing laugh. Malfoy, surrounded by his green posse, held up the small, glass orb from breakfast.
"Look at what the squib dropped! Maybe if he squeezed this, you think he'd remember to fall on his arse?" Some muttered laughter, mixed with indignant mutters from Gryffindors.
"Give it over, Malfoy!" Ron Weasley snarled, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.
Malfoy looked up, pretending to think it over, "Nah! I think I'll leave it for him to find. How about… up a tree?" He swung his leg over his broom and glided up above the watching audience, casually tossing the small orb in the air.
Ron rounded on a particular Gryffindor. "Harry! C'mon, mate, help me out!" All eyes on him, Harry quietly shook his head awkwardly, avoiding the eyes of others, particularly Gryffindors, muttering about 'cowardice'.
"Oh, come on! You were bloody brilliant up there! You'd have Malfoy running in no time flat!" Ron argued.
Harry glanced up at the blonde bully, still goadingly tossing the fragile ball in his hands. He thought about it, glancing at his companions. Nick was clearly conflicted over helping Neville, who seemed alright, and not getting in trouble or flying that high. Adrian was stone-faced and unhelpful, staring with simmered anger at the bully.
'Neville doesn't deserve that. The orb-thingy looks expensive, too.' He thought to himself.
"Screw it." He muttered, swinging a leg over the broom and pointedly ignoring the sudden mood-swing to cheers and hollers from Gryffs. He was level with Malfoy in an instant.
"Give it over, and let's not make any trouble." Harry tried reasoning.
"Is that so?" Malfoy drawled.
"I don't want to knock you off your broom. Odds are, you'd break your wrist at best, your neck at worst." Harry solemnly replied.
Malfoy's face drained, before flaring pink. He smirked, "Fine then! If you want it so bad, go catch it!"
He lobbed the orb in to the air. Harry almost-instinctively followed its arc path through the air and angled his broom as it reached its peak. He accelerated, the wind whistling by his ears, down towards the grass. The trinket fell to the Earth.
People screamed as he reached break-neck speeds in an instant.
*swoosh*
He pulled up on his broom just in time to skim the grass with his feet and slide to a stop, the fragile ball safely in his palm. Cheers erupted from most of those attending as they all started rushing toward him, eagerly patting him on the back.
Jeff and Sally ran up, Jeff almost as pale as his unglamoured form, Sally gibbering excitedly about how awesome that catch was.
Jeff's voice shakily got through everyone else, "Harry, promise me never do that again. I don't think Slendy'd take you dying on my watch too well."
"They'd never find your body." Harry replied semi-serious.
"HARRY POTTER!"
The murmurs died faster than a snuffed candle. Professor McGonagall strode across the grass with her lips thinned to a line and with disjointed, thick brogue. "Ne'er – in all ma time at Hogwarts- ya couldae broken your neck- daft bairne- Ah can't believe ma own- what were ya thinkin'-"
"Professor, it's not his-"
"Not now, Miss Patil." She said, reigning in her Scottish accent.
"But Malfoy"
"Enough, Mr. Weasley."
"Professor-"
"Mr. Travis! I don't want another word about it or I'll report you to Mr. Lindermann!" She scolded. "The same with all of you! Potter, follow me, now."
Harry started walking. He looked back and saw Malfoy and company smirking victoriously at the scene playing out. He gave a nod to a scowling Jeff and worried Sally as he followed the strict professor into the castle. He fretted internally; what would Slenderman say about botching it all up so soon? Nick and Adrian could learn about wizardry, but admittedly, he felt envious and more than a little bitter. The Hogwarts letter was initially addressed to him and Slender went through all of this risk for the first time in decades to see that he got the education. It might've been selfish, but he really did want to learn this; his unique Ability that had been a part of him for so long, that made him feel useful to Slender and the Mansion. This Hogwarts fiasco was centered around him.
And now, he was off to get expelled.
His stomach knotted. What was a wizard expulsion like? Would it just be a quick 'you're out, never come back'? No, they were too secretive for that. He heard from some upper years that Hagrid's expulsion meant his wand was snapped. He couldn't imagine life without his thestral-wand; it was a part of him like he couldn't describe. Like he could never hope to replace.
They reached the staircase to the upper floors and, to Harry's confusion, stopped in front of Professor Flitwick's door. He was in the middle of a lecture where a head of broccoli with magically-grown legs and feet was doing a complicated tap-dance routine on his desk.
"Professor Flitwick? Excuse me, but could I borrow Wood for a moment?"
Harry raised an eyebrow as a confused, burly fifth-year boy stood up from the desks and walked out with them.
McGonagall nodded, "Follow me."
She led them to a vacant classroom that was occupied only by Peeves. The Poltergeist took one glance at Harry and immediately tensed, remembering another green-eyed child. Neither the Professor or fifth-year noticed, "Out, Peeves!" McGonagall barked.
The spirit of chaos didn't need to be told twice and zoomed out through the wall with barely a whoopee-cushion fart sound behind him. McGonagall immediately turned to the two.
"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood- I've found you a Seeker!"
Wood went from confused to momentarily star-struck (hearing 'Potter') and then absolutely elated. "Are you serious, Professor?"
"Absolutely! The boy's a natural! I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?" He nodded cautiously.
"He caught this Remembrall in his hand from a fifty-foot dive," She held up the orb he'd caught. Harry suddenly frowned, had she not seen Malfoy throw it? She had to have noticed him if she noticed it fall. "Not even a scratch. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it!"
Wood rounded on Harry excitedly, "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?"
"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor Team."
"He's just the build for a Seeker, too. Light- speedy – we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor-"
"WAIT A MINUTE!" Harry exclaimed. At their surprised silence, he cleared his throat and began again, "I'm sorry, but I'm so confused. What's going on here?"
"Ah, of course," McGonagall smiled. "Are you familiar with the wizarding sport Quidditch? I believe I talked about it briefly in the Leaky Cauldron with your family."
"Yeah; four balls; Quaffle, bludgers, snitch; three goal posts. Right?"
"Essentially. Anyways, the Gryffindor team has had a… well, rather lackluster Seeker over the last… how long?"
"Ten years." Wood replied immediately.
"Ah, yes, yes, ten years. The Seeker is a vital position in the game, they catch the Snitch, and it's important to have a good one in play. After your little stunt in the courtyard, you have all the qualities of one that might actually do well! I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Absolutely flattened last year by Slytherin. Winning this year… Oh, my." She said giddily.
"Alright, Potter." Wood said seriously, "Practice is bright and early. 6 o' clock every Saturday, sometimes on Weekdays, but check the board for it or ask Angelina, she'll usually be the first to know. Anyways, we'll work on getting you a broom and-"
"Wait, hang on!" Harry protested. "I'm not even sure I want to join."
That brought the pair up short. McGonagall looked slightly stricken, but Wood looked almost like a child who'd been told that the combined Christmas and Birthday celebration was all one big April Fool's. Harry felt rather offended they just assumed, so he didn't really care.
"I'm rather flattered you think I'd do so well, but I haven't even agreed to join yet."
"B-but, it's Quidditch!" Oliver exclaimed.
"Meh."
McGonagall looked slightly offended by his blasé response. Wood's expression gave the impression that someone had just defiled his religion's most-sacred object of worship with blasphemy and dishonor.
And, in his eyes, it probably just was.
"Look, I'm just… not sure I want to join, okay? Maybe later." He gathered his bag and picked up the orb- Rememberall- the professor had set down and walked out of the room, leaving the still-stunned pair in his wake.
"They did what?"
"Yep."
"Holy crap."
"That is pretty suspicious."
"No shit, Ay!"
Slender's trio had met up in the abandoned ballroom again that afternoon after classes. Harry just got through recounting the meeting with Oliver Wood and McGonagall.
"Yeah, but McGonagall caught up with me later and gave me detention for the stunt itself. I did leave before she could really give me one after the meeting."
"That's just not right!" Nick exclaimed.
"No, I guess not. I mean, I earned the detention, yeah. It was a pretty bone-headed move to make and I deserved the detention like any teacher would give out, but I do feel like it was more punishment for rejecting their 'get-out-of-jail-free' card at face value."
"Hmm. Well, this'll be conspiracy-level gossip by dinner, then. I already overheard someone telling someone else you broke the sound barrier." Adrian smirked.
Harry groaned as he slid down the marble steps. "Whyyyyyyyy?"
"Well, did Neville appreciate it?" The amnesiac asked.
Harry nodded ruefully. He visited the boy in the Hospital Wing. The Matron had fixed his wrist in less than five minutes, but was keeping him for observation. When he gave him back his Remembrall, the boy's face lit up and he mentioned how 'he knew he was forgetting something'. He thanked Harry profusely, especially after hearing what almost happened to it. 'Gran would kill me if I broke it' he bemoaned. Harry left him to it. While it was really nice to know he helped the poor guy, it still sucked that he not only got detention, but he also got suspicion, attention, gossip, and a Quidditch-nut upper-year on his back.
He'd already seen Oliver twice in the span of the afternoon asking if he'd reconsidered.
"So, what do you guys think?"
"Hmm, well Quidditch would be a cool sport. Plus, you're really good at… flying." Nick shuddered heavily at the word.
"It would play into their plans and draw less attention to you from professors, but more attention from practically everyone else." Adrian considered.
"But it'd cut into study time and time with you and everyone who visits." Harry protested.
"Plus, it'd be pretty dangerous." Nick added, "I mean, they have literal flying cannonballs zooming around trying to concuss you. And two players trying to redirect the balls to concuss you again."
"Do you think they sharpen the ends of their broomsticks into shivs?" Adrian asked semi-rhetorically.
"Maybe Slytherin, but this isn't an R-rated movie." Harry replied, "The professors would stop something like that immediately."
"How often was practice again?" Nick interrupted.
"Pretty much whenever, but always early in the morning, so I'm told." Harry sighed.
"I do not envy you." Ay replied seriously. Sleep was a precious, precious thing to him.
"We're off track again!" Harry exclaimed, shaking his head. "What do I do? Should I accept the offer or not?"
"We could send a note to Slender." Adrian spoke, "and I think I have an idea."
That evening, dinner was buzzing with gossip surrounding Harry and leftover murmurs of his re-sort flared every now and then, too. For the most part, Harry was actually rather proud of himself for not doing what he initially wanted and blowing up at them all for it. Even if he had to part ways with his friends to the Table of Lions.
He walked to a less-crowded spot of the table, aware of a particular watchful eye. Glancing up, he saw Dumbledore cover a smug smile by looking down at his dinner as though minding his potatoes and lamb chops. He wasn't fooling anyone, though. Everyone could tell he was smugly pleased, or at least a lot more twinkly-eyed after the re-sort. Granted, everyone else agreed with the Headmaster's idea and didn't think much against it, but everyone from Slender's home knew he was very happy it went his way (for once).
He reached for a spoonful of peas and carrots when a shadow fell right next to him. He heaved a sigh and spoke without turning around, "What, Oliver?"
"How'd you- nevermind- have you reconsidered-?"
"I haven't yet, Wood! It's barely been a couple hours!" Harry replied, exasperated, swiveling his head to cast an irritated glare at the fifth year. The older student looked a mix of indignant, abashed, and disappointed before settling on a disgruntled huff and stomping his way back to his friend group down the table.
Harry ignored the stares and started resuming his meal. After five minutes, he was sure the stares were low enough to read the letter he received that afternoon using Scath. He discretely opened his satchel and pulled out a book and some notes. He set it up to take up space on the table around him as well as hide him breaking the wax seal of a small envelope and reading the missive amongst the sheets of Transfiguration notes.
Harry,
I appreciate you informing me of this development. Especially considering the re-sort. I admit, Dumbledore has gained a slight upper hand for himself, now that you are surrounded by light-minded and like-minded individuals. Be cautious.
If I'd known that before, I would have protested the re-sort more vehemently. For that, I apologize. We can't petition for another at this time; it's too dangerous to draw attention right now. Keep in close contact with Nikolaus and Adrian, though.
As for Quidditch, I leave that up to you. It may help give insight into their popular sports. Bread and Circuses are traditional distractions. However, I heard from Sally how much you enjoyed flying today.
Join if you want, or don't.
However, I believe Adrian's proposal has merit.
Be safe, be cautious.
-S.
Harry set the letter down, folding it into his potion's text. He pulled out a Charms assignment, pretending to read over it, and thought over Slender's reply.
Ay's idea sounded reasonable, but these people weren't exactly the epitome of reasonable and logical. Heck, they turn desks into pigs here. Then again, his home life involves living with the undead, inhuman, interdimensional, and occasionally a sentient toaster that likes spewing out cinnamon bagels. Logic and reasoning flew out the window the second he took Slender's hand.
As he was lost in thought, he quickly noticed three approaching figures in the corner of his eye. Sighing, he quickly swept all of his papers and books into his satchel again and prodded his potato mash pile with a fork.
"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting back aboard the train to those freakish muggles?"
Harry's eye twitched, "What is it now, Malfoy?"
"Oh, nothing, it's just such a shame you're bound for home. Then again, I wouldn't expect the halfblood son of a mudblood to make the cut around here. Especially one with mudblood 'brothers' and daring to associate himself with a muggle family. How they were even allowed in Hogwarts is beyond me and certainly an insult to the school. My father always said Dumbledore was bringing this school to the dogs. Now the dogs come here!" The blonde sneered in contempt and arrogant victory as Harry's hands twitched, tiny sparks of electricity occasionally dancing near-invisibly between his fingers.
"Oi! Leave him alone, you slimy snake!"
Harry groaned audibly as Ronald Weasley stormed over, blood boiling. Malfoy smirked, eyeing the new toy, "Oh, look. It's the rabble-rouser blood-traitor. Coming to defend him, eh?"
"Yeah, I am!" Ron retorted, "Harry's ten times as strong as you! Unlike you, he's got power beyond his father's money! He could take you on anytime!"
Malfoy flushed angrily before spewing back, "Fine! Let's make it official, then. Wizard's duel. Tonight! Midnight at the Trophy Room; wands only- no contact."
"I'm his second, then. Who's yours."
Malfoy glanced between his two gorilla-like bodyguards, clearly sizing them up, "Crabbe."
"WAIT ONE FLIPPING SECOND!" Harry shouted over the banter. "Anyone care to tell me what's going on? First off, you-" He jabbed a finger at Ron, "are not allowed to make decisions for me, thank you very much. Second off, what the hell just happened? Third off, what is a 'second'?"
Malfoy sneered, "Pitiful, doesn't even know what a wizard's duel is."
By now, the combined bickering, shouting, and by the principle of event-occuring-near-Harry-Potter, most of the school's attention was on the small group.
A Gryffindor girl, Angelina Johnson if Harry remembered correctly, was sitting closest and leaned in towards Harry, "A wizard's duel is essentially a magic fight between two opponents. You shoot spells at one another until one or the other yields, is knocked unconscious, rendered wandless or bound, or dead. That's what a second is for; to take over if one opponent dies in rare cases, but is usually to ensure fair-play."
"Thank you." Harry grunted, "So, I'm essentially in a duel-to-the-death with this prat?"
Those around snickered at Malfoy's expense, Angelina smiled, "Don't worry, Potter, duels to the death are rare and for severe infractions. Plus, you're just first years."
"Doesn't help." Harry retorted. "Also, one thing clear, if anyone is being my backup, I want it to be Adrian Thresher." If things go really far south, he'd want someone who could impale the other with a wire before they could start a spell's first syllable.
Said 'Claw rose from his seat to give a slight nod to the Gryffindor. Ron, however, became red-faced. "What?! C'mon, mate! Why not me?"
"Why should it be you?" Harry shot back angrily.
"I'm your best mate!"
Another eye twitch, before a long inhale, and Harry turned back to the blonde instigator. "I don't want to fight you, Malfoy."
"Ha! He admits it!" Draco crowed, "Now we see the Boy-Who-Lived's real spine is limp as a flobber-worm! So much for Gryffindor bravery!"
The bully basked in the boos and glares from the offended House as other Houses egged him on cheering (Slytherin) or watching the excitement unfold (Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw). Harry found himself quickly losing patience in the torrent of angry shouts encouraging him to pick this fight.
Harry swallowed his anger at generally everyone and looked up at the staff table. No one seemed like they were even going to try to sort this out. Dumbledore was tinkly-eyed and clearly interested in his reaction. McGonagall was thin-lipped but didn't get up. Flitwick and Sprout were irate and clearly being restrained only from a whispered word from the Headmaster beside them (from obvious back-and-forth glares between the three). Snape, however, was quietly looking down at his meal as though nothing of note was going on beyond his spinach and soup.
"I'm not going to fight you." He enunciated clearly. More boos and hollers surrounded him in a fresh wave from Gryffindor.
Malfoy snarked, "Figures! Pathetic, spineless wizard raised by freakish, infirm, creeps of a family."
The boos died down. "What did you say?" Harry hissed coldly.
Delighted he finally struck a vein, the snake continued, "Oh, nothing, just what everyone's saying is all. I mean, there's the weirdo with the mask who can't stop t-t-twitching and st-tutt-terning." He mimicked both the stutter and neck-crack/spasms crudely with a purposely-stupid-looking face on. "Then that blind freak with the black glasses! I didn't even know muggles could get much more useless!"
Harry's face became redder as anger boiled in him. Other Gryffindors were anxious to see the result; an acceptance to the duel or an out-and-out brawl right in front of them. The hall was absolutely silent.
"Then, there's the clown, I mean, he dresses like an actual clown! And muggles don't notice? Why even have the Statute at this point; they're too blind to even notice!
"And, of course, there's your freakishly tall 'parent' who took pity on all of you and brought you in-"
*SLAM!*
The ponce stopped speaking as Harry abruptly slammed a fist into the table. The tension in the room was like an electric storm; combined effects of Harry's own 'electric' personality, Draco's inflammatory speech, and the escalating excitement from the wizard's duel announcement.
"Insult me all you like," Harry hissed lowly, "Insult my birth-parents, if you must. But no one insults my family or especially our Guardian."
"So, your answer?" Malfoy responded with feeble pomp, chest puffed and looking down his nose at Harry.
…
"For the honor of my family; I accept your challenge." The entire Gryffindor house table erupted in cheers and applause for the singular Ravenclaw-turned-Lion still staring down the snake. Who, in the applause, grinned viciously back at Harry and retreated to his surprisingly quiet table with his two bodyguards in tow.
Harry quickly tossed his supplies in his backpack, meal abandoned and suddenly a lot less hungry than he was before. He stalked out of the Great Hall, aware of the following gazes of the teachers and blatantly ignoring or shrugging off his 'fellow' Gryffindors trying to clap him on the back and harshly swatting any hands that got too close. The hall was abuzz as soon as his black robes swished around the doorframe.
The Ravenclaws had started paying a lot of attention to the mysterious 'brother' of Harry Potter, now his Second in a Wizarding Duel. He was murmuring quietly to himself. Curious, a second-year leaned closer.
"What are you saying?"
The quiet 'Claw spared a glance and spoke, "I was just thinking about what flowers would go well with Malfoy's Funeral."
Around him faces paled.
"White Lilies are traditional, and would suit his pallor. Of course," he paused, ominously, "color-schemes matching the body are irrelevant in a closed-casket." He couldn't hide the grin on his face as one fourth-year actually fainted.
Harry stormed past the Fat Lady, grunting out the password. He needed alone-time and he needed it now. He managed to get to his shared dormitory room and sent an irate glare at the orange monstrosity of Weasley's division of the room before he got to his trunk.
BRVR was startled awake by the door slamming open and watched his new-brother throw open the lid of his trunk and slowly pull out a leather roll tied off with a string. He quietly ran his fingers along it, feeling the leather to help calm him. He had started it as a personal collection from the supplies given on his First Christmas. Tending to them helped calm him, act as an active form of meditation, and it kept his supplies in good shape.
He hopped into his bed, pulling the heavy, red drapery over it and unfurled the roll of leather to reveal a large selection of small, glinting, metallic knives and medical instruments.
He pulled out a sharpening rod and worked his way through the first blade. Rhythmically running the edge expertly across the surface.
Up.
Down.
Pull.
Pull.
Srkt!
Srkt!
Srkt!
Srkt!
A glint in BRVR's eyes danced delightedly from beside the pillow as blue-white sparks erupted along the length of the stone. It knew it's new-brother Master was getting ready to go out tonight.
Harry stayed sequestered behind his bed curtains until well after curfew. He quietly slipped out of the room, whispering to BRVR to stay there. The cat-like mouse pokemon seemed to shrug and went back to its warm-spot contentedly curling in on himself.
He gathered what he felt he'd need including his wand and a few of his more… lethal collection pieces (in case things went really south) before he crept down the stairwell.
He mentally congratulated himself as he finally set foot in the common room completely undetecte-
*FWEEE!*
He jumped a mile in the air as the room lit up with excited, gleeful Gryffindors cheering his name. The major noise had come from their noisemakers, magical sparklers, and more as he looked on stupidly.
He recognized several of the Prefects in the crowd, excluding the Weasley Prefect, clearly giddy at the thought of action even at the cost of not upholding the rules. Someone popped a cork off a bottle and sprayed the foamy mess coming out on some seventh year before taking a draw. Another few had already started rather passionately making out on the couch.
They continued almost a full minute until he snapped. "WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON HERE!"
The room quieted to confusion. A braver (or denser) third-year spoke, "Well, you're off on your Duel. We wanted to give you a sort-of party for it, y'know? We'll throw a bigger one when you win!" He added delightedly.
"Look," Harry groaned, rubbing forehead agitatedly. "I don't need this shite. I don't want this shite. I am going to this duel because he brought family into it. Not. Because. Of. You. People."
Over half of those gathered wilted or shrunk back at the venom he brought. "I am going to this event and I strongly suggest you go to bed." He started towards the portrait hole, before pausing, "Either way this goes down. I'm sure you'll hear all about it tomorrow morning." He sent a mildly terrifying grin that had the members of the House of Lions eagerly anticipating the impending gossip of the dastardly duel and how badly Potter walloped the Slytherin.
Outside the portrait, he heard hushed tones from beside a pillar. He immediately shot towards the shadows cast in the recesses of the hallway as he edged towards the raised whispers.
"It's against the school rules!"
"Oh, sod off, bloody bookworm!"
"I'm frankly appalled the Prefects were involved!"
"Well, you're not going to go about ruining it!"
He allowed himself to melt from the darkness beside them. Granger gave a stifled shriek as Weasley looked ready to piss himself before breaking out in a large grin. "Harry, mate, you made it!"
"Weasley. Granger." He nodded cordially, "What are you doing here?"
Ron started first, "Well, y'see mate, you were in your bed. I figured you were preparing or something and I didn't want to get in the way, so I went out here to wait for you! Bloody good thing, too. She was going to the teachers about all this! Can you imagine?"
"I actually can, Weasley. The teachers heard the whole thing back in the Great Hall." Harry deadpanned.
Hermione looked scandalized, "Are you saying teachers could be so irresponsible!"
"Yes."
The girl looked ready to explode before releasing it in a frustrated huff of air, "Well, regardless, you shouldn't be out past curfew. You'll lose us all of the points I've earned from class from McGonagall about her questions on Switching Spells!"
"Yes, because points matter." Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. The girl plowed on.
"Additionally, it's incredibly dangerous to go into this duel in the first place! Someone had to be the voice of reason. Especially with everyone setting up a party about this. It's barbaric!"
"You just hate that it's fun!" Ron retorted.
"And you are just as bad!"
"Enough!" Harry roared, echoing around the empty silent hallway. "I've had enough of the both of you. You (he pointed to Hermione) are not in charge of my decisions and you (he pointed to Ron) are not involved, not needed, and not my 'best mate'."
Ron turned a tomato-like red but before he could retort, a sharp whistle echoed from further down the hallway. The three turned and saw two figures in the shadows. They stepped out and revealed two stone-faced wards of Slender.
"Hello, Harry." Adrian quietly murmured. Nick reciprocated with a quick wave and grin, masking his other hand letting a quick metallic glint of his 9mm Glock show beneath his robes. They came prepped for anything, like he had.
Harry gave a quick nod of appreciation and walked past the two Gryffindors. Hermione was the first to recover, "What!? You're really going through with this?"
"Yes." The shortest one replied, "Malfoy brought my family and Guardian into this. He will pay."
"You're going to get in trouble!"
"Don't care."
"You tell 'er, mate!"
"Shut up, you."
*Whimper*
The quite arguing was stopped as a small noise was heard. Harry, being closest, inched towards a shadow beside a suit of armor. He took out his wand and cast a low-level Lumos to reveal the tear-stained, chubby face of Neville Longbottom.
"Neville? What are you doing here?"
"I f'rgot the passw'rd." The Gryff replied, sheepishly. He buried himself further into his knees. Harry, showing a smidge of pity for the wizard, offered a hand to help him stand up.
"Why didn't you ask Hermione or Ron? They were out here long enough."
"I didn't see Ron until Hermione came out. When she did, they just started arguing. So… I, um, I just- didn't want to… I mean I wouldn't want to…"
"You didn't want to get involved?" Neville nodded quietly. Harry turned to the only girl in the group, "Granger, could you take him to the common room? Same with you, Weasley."
"What?!"
"Oh, no!" Hermione shrieked. They all turned to see her pointing to the portrait of the Fat Lady… or rather, the empty backdrop of the Fat Lady. "She's left! Oh, we'll get caught for sure now!" She bemoaned their misfortune.
Harry took a deep breath in through the nose before snapping out, "Fine! Then just stay here and say you had to use the restroom or something if anyone comes along. Say the ones inside were full-up or something. Just stay here. I'm going off… alone." He sent a pointed glare at Ron, who was still in stunned shock.
Said red-head shook his mop angrily, "No way, Harry! I'm coming too!"
"No. You. Are. Not." Harry growled.
"Well, how come they get to go?" He pointed at the two non-Gryffs present.
"I trust them and they're family." Was Harry's curt reply. He motioned to the other two and they started walking the darkened halls of Hogwarts. They didn't get far before three sets of footsteps followed closely behind.
"What now?" Harry rounded on them.
"I'm coming too!" Ron stubbornly argued.
"I'm here to make sure none of you!" She jabbed a finger at all of them, "get into trouble!"
Harry waited before facing Neville, who was just shaking quietly, "I-I came because I didn't want to be alone."
He grunted before turning around, "Fine, but if we're caught, you save your own bacon."
The others followed behind as Neville turned to Nick, "W-where does bacon come into this?"
"It's an American muggle slang," Nick replied helpfully, "It essentially means in this case 'If you're caught, you're on your own'."
Neville whimpered again.
They continued wandering the corridors of the castle, avoiding any of the slumbering portraits and narrowly dodging the wandering ghost of the Gray Lady. Finally, they made it to the large room of glinting metal plaques and shields behind glimmering glass cases. The moonlight cast eerie glows on the entire scene, making shadows shift in the darkness.
Minutes of anticipation crept onwards.
"Heh. He chickened out." Ron snorted quietly.
A shuffling sound echoed down the hallway followed closely by a quiet, slimy murmur. "Sniff around, my sweet, they must be lurking 'round here somewhere."
The group broke into a run in the opposite direction, the non-Slender-wards huffing and exhausted, unused to the exertion. Still, the uneven limping steps were echoing behind them as Filch and his cat scurried after.
They reached a particular corridor and Harry shouted, "SCATTER!"
Harry, Adrian, and Nick, already familiar with how it was done, chose their spots expertly in the available nooks and crannies of the hall. Ron hid behind the shield of a nearby suit of armor while Hermione dashed into a small outcropping for a locked door. Neville stood in paralyzed confusion until Nick dragged him into the spot he was occupying and helped him scrunch to be less noticeable in the shadow.
The limping sounds got louder as the grimy, yellow light of Filch's oil lamp bounced around the end of the hallway they occupied. He started waving the beam around on that end as a pale, white figure floated through the door.
Peeves heard the commotion and grinned delightedly at the students hiding from the dastardly caretaker. He cackled and was about to speak when he saw the silhouetted figure of the Potter boy glaring back with almost-glowing green eyes. Peeves recognized them as being valued family of… Her… The Dreaded One- Sally, and (even for a ghost) paled drastically.
The poltergeist backed away, making sure they saw him doing so. Then, he noticed the small one with red hair, like the Gryffindor Twins he was fond of. He glanced at the distance between the Feared Ones and the red-head. Then, he motioned at the poorly-hidden Weasley, asking an unspoken question. To his delight, the green-eyed Dreaded one shrugged uncaringly. The ghostly figure split into a grin.
"STUDENT OUT OF BED!" Peeves cried out, zooming around the suit of armor, cackling. He caused Filch's beam of light to focus on the suit before knocking the shield out of the armors grasp and exposing Ron Weasley like a deer in headlights for a second before scrambling out and rushing down the hallway, the older man hot on his heels. In the thrill of the chase, both he and his cat completely missed the others.
Hermione shot out of her small alcove like the very depths of Hell (or worse… expulsion) were at her heels. Harry, Adrian, and Nick ducked out as well, dragging Neville along with. They wandered quietly in the hallways until a commotion ahead caused them to duck back into hiding spots well out of sight.
Not long after, the hall was lit with a sulfurous yellow as Filch came into view, smugly dragging Weasley by the ear as the younger one was letting out a mixture of whines and rebellious discontent while ratting them out loudly, "I'm telling you! There were others with me, too! That know-it-all Granger girl, she was there with me! And that duffer Brahms from Hufflepuff! And-and that weird quiet guy in Ravenclaw! Thresher!"
"Don't give me your excuses, boy." Filch growled. "I didn't see nobody else with ya and since you were the only one out; you're coming with me to see what McGonagall thinks about yer little tales." He smiled nastily as he continued dragging Ron off.
They waited until the angry retorts and echoes faded off before venturing further.
They discretely rode several different stairwells as they swiveled on point and got nearer and nearer to familiar territory.
"Ugh! What's that smell?" Adrian scowled, face scrunched.
The other three quickly noticed the abhorring miasma the further they went down a corridor. Harry recognized the scent immediately as badly-unwashed dog after the countless times Jeff shirked off washing Smile (sometimes for weeks on-end if he could manage). They held their sleeves over their mouths and noses to try to mitigate the stench.
As they passed by the strongest point, they paused, hearing a soft snarl behind a certain door. Harry, being passively curious, pressed an ear close to it and narrowed his eyes at the sound of three sets of deep, heavy, and perfectly in-time breathing. He hurried back to the others and they quickly made distance between them and the mysterious door.
They gave a grateful sigh of relief when they arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait to see her snoozing in the frame. Her face was flushed red and the heavy, unladylike snores reflected her tendency to travel between frames to get at some of the Drunk Monk's eternal supply of beer and liquor.
Harry rapped against the frame and she snorted as she drunkenly opened an eye and blearily "saw" them. He suspected she was too-far-gone to really process them even being there.
"Pig Snout." He whispered.
"W's that the p'ssword? Pleaseword? Pissword? Nah, that's not it." She mumbled, giggling to herself.
"Look, ma'am, I'm a Gryffindor, and he's a Gryffindor." Harry explained slowly, showing his and Neville's robe badges. "So we just need to get in now."
"J'st like that *hic* girl, aren't ya?" She slurred, but shrugged drowsily and let her frame swing open.
Harry led Neville through the portrait hole and gave a brief nod to Adrian and Nick as both slunk into the shadows to make their way discretely to their own, separate dormitories.
Walking into the admittedly cozy common room, Harry was pleased to see the house had got his memo and cleared out. After the last hour and a half of running, sneaking, and hiding he was not in the mood for a party.
Although, not everyone had left.
"Where HAVE you been?!"
Hermione Granger shot up from the high-backed chair by the fireplace where she'd spent the last while angrily glowering into the embers. She stomped her way in their faces, both Harry and Neville were forced a step back at the suddenness.
"I've been waiting all night! Do you know what could have happened?! Points lost! Detention! Expulsion!"
"Keep it down, will you?" Harry hissed, glancing at both stairs to male/female dormitories.
The girl bristled, but lowered her tone, "And what's worse; Ronald Weasley got caught! He will lose so many points for this! And you just let him get caught!"
"It's his own, damn fault." Harry retorted aggressively.
The girl looked like she'd been slapped by the word, "Well! You practically threw him to Peeves, didn't you?"
"He was the one who insisted he come with. Part of some grand 'adventure' is the risk of getting caught. Maybe next time he'll be smart enough to not invite himself along."
"There won't BE a next time!" She threatened.
"G-guys, please!"
They both turned to Neville who shrank back under the residual heat of the argument. Hermione was the first to cool down, "Yes, Neville? What is it?" She asked calmly.
"I-I just want to go to bed. I-if that's alright?" He stammered out.
He shuffled up the stairs to the boy's dormitory and Harry shot one last peeved look at the rather bossy bushy-haired girl who turned towards her own room before following behind.
"I-I'm sorry." Harry raised an eyebrow as Neville continued, "I was completely dead weight back there. Brahms had to drag me into his hiding places. I bet I would've gotten us caught in an instant if he hadn't."
"No, Longbottom, I'm sorry for dragging you along in the first place." Harry countered.
"But I went with you willingly." Neville insisted. Harry let the subject drop as they climbed. "B-by the way, what about Brahms and Thresher? Will they be okay?"
"Mmm-hm, they can handle themselves pretty well. You saw how well they hid with you and the others in mind; imagine them hiding without any of that holding them back."
Neville was simultaneously impressed and unnerved by visions of two shadows gliding like wraiths between patches of darkness in the corridors.
They opened the door to their room and Harry was relieved that Seamus and Dean were already dead to the world, though if the suspiciously unlabeled bottle in Seamus's arm crook and the necktie around his head, he'd hazard a guess they were set to "congratulate him" when he walked in. They silently got ready for bed, careful not to disturb the two.
Harry lay in his four-poster bed, quietly listening as Neville settled into bed and started snoring. A few minutes passed and he heard a new set of footsteps ascending the stairs. He had his wand in hand and hidden under his sheets as he feigned sleep to watch the red-head sulk in. Through eyelashes, he saw the outline of the boy pause briefly in front of his bed and grumble as he climbed into his own. Mere seconds later, his loud snores reverberated around the walls.
He slowly sat up and listened closely that no one woke before poking BRVR lightly. The pokemon's cheeks briefly sparked in irritation and gave a low, bleary 'Pika?' at him.
"Shh. I need your help, BRVR. We're going hunting." Harry grinned.
The small mouse-type sloughed off the drowsy grumpiness and perked up instantly, face lighting briefly from excited flares of sparks. It followed its new-brother Master out of the portrait hole and down the hallways once more.
AN: Happy Halloween everybody!
It took some doing, but I managed to finish up in time for the holiday! But don't worry; this is Part I of II for today to celebrate today!
I plan on releasing the second half of the chapter this afternoon! Keep a look out for it!
Sincerely,
-Crow
Edit: 11/5/2017: Thank you, Mazzax, for pointing out the Duel Plot Hole. I have fixed it.