"I will never understand some of the patients I get, Ted. I don't know how they manage to cause these injuries to themselves. Just today I had a patient that said his hand was hurting. Not only was his hand COMPLETELY gone but seared against his ribs were three of his fingers! They were actually seared against the bones too! Under the skin! And here's the thing, I believe him when he says it was an accident, because if there was a spell that caused those effects, then I promise you the Blacks would've had it in their library." -Andromeda Tonks to her husband while he cooked dinner. March 1982.

Chapter 10:

"Ow…" The morning light waged a war against Harry Evans with all the subtlety of a bludger stuck in a cabinet filled with fine porcelain. Whatever time it was, it was probably too early given the events of the previous night. He hadn't even gotten that drunk, or so he assumed anyways, alcohol memories were always a bit skewed… but regardless, it had been a long day and an equally long night. Harry rose to a sitting position and through squinted eyes made his first of many attempts to take in his surroundings. It took a while, but he eventually discerned that his clothes were where he'd left them, Parvati was slowly stirring from her slumber next to him, and it appeared that no one had disturbed anything else in the room. "Perfect," he mumbled through a yawn.

The thought of going back to sleep was an enticing one, but it was his dry mouth above all else that convinced him to try and stumble to the nearest source of cold water. Situated on top of one of the dressers was a pitcher of cold water and two glasses. The tray even had ice cubes still floating in it, whether that was due to magic or the recency of their placement Harry wasn't sure. He had already fallen in love with Hogwarts' house elves after the previous evening's feast, but the fact that they had cold water waiting for him once he woke up solidified his love forever – he would now die for them without question.

Between the ice-cold water soothing his throat, the hot shower to soothe his body, and a series of other hygiene related activities, Harry felt like he honestly stood a chance at accomplishing something that day. When Harry exited the bathroom connected to his room, he found Parvati in the process of waking up. "Morning," he murmured, crouching down to dig to into his trunk so that he could wear something besides a towel.

Parvati muttered 'tempus' as she waved her wand through the air. "Afternoon at this point," she yawned deeply, "it's already past one. How late were we up?"

"No clue," Harry chuckled as he put on his clothes, jeans and a flannel as was habit, "but I'm pretty sure we missed our guided tour back to the Great Hall."

"That's their fault for scheduling it so early…" Parvati craned her neck so she could see all around the bed. "Have you seen my panties?"

Harry retrieved the jumbled-up cloth and tossed it onto the bed. A few seconds later a pair of his pajama pants and a t-shirt followed suit. "Here, you can wear these to get to your dorm, I don't imagine you're keen on giving everyone currently in the common room a free show."

"I'm way too sober to give them a free-show," she said, stretching in bed and giving Harry an excellent view in the process.

"I couldn't tell who enjoyed your little dance last night more, everyone watching or yourself," he teased.

Parvati smirked as she stepped out of the bed. "What can I say, I love to dance."

"Does Hogwarts have dances?" Harry asked, suddenly realizing he had no clue if Hogwarts had the same types of social events that were so common among muggles.

"One in the fall, one in the spring," her voice briefly muffled as she pulled the shirt over her head. "Did no one ever tell you?" She asked confusedly.

"Muggle raised," was Harry's succinct reply as he took a seat on the small stone ledge of the window. He opened the window and let in an extremely pleasant breeze. "Cigarettes didn't clue you in to as much?"

"Honestly didn't even think about it. Those things aren't common, but you're not the first person I've seen with them or anything."

Harry inhaled deeply on his freshly lit fag. "Fair point," he acknowledged, the smoke being carried out the open window.

Parvati waved off his offer to smoke as well but joined him on the ledge. "So, just to be clear…" She paused briefly before looking him in the eyes, "you're not interested in a relationship, right?"

"Right," Harry nodded, enjoying his smoke before clarifying. "I like you, Parvati, and the sex was great but I'm not about to get into a romantic relationship my second day at Hogwarts." The visible sigh of relief made him chuckle. "A bit nervous about my response, huh?"

"Fun fact: telling guys you don't want to date them when they think you're into them isn't fun. At all," Parvati began running her fingers through her hair, unraveling the occasional knot. "Not like any of them got that aggressive or anything, but it's not a very pleasant conversation regardless."

"I imagine not," Harry murmured, quite grateful that he'd only had to deal with a clingy girl once. He hadn't even slept with her, but apparently in her brain making out at a party meant they were together… she tried to kick him when he explained his utter lack of interest in a committed relationship. Unsurprisingly, they hadn't spoken since.

"I'm going to go take that shower now," Parvati said, standing to her feet. "We should definitely do this again sometime – not tonight though, I'm way too sore for that and I really should make sure I have everything ready for classes."

Harry wasn't surprised that Parvati had a side to her that was still focused and interested in their studies. Padma had spoken highly of her intelligence, and that girl had been sorted into Ravenclaw almost the second the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. They hadn't had a ton of intellectually stimulating conversation at the party thanks to all the alcohol, but even at dinner Parvati had proved there was more to her than just being a flirt. "Agreed on all accounts."

"Perfect," she said, walking towards the door. Before she left, she turned around and flashed him her breasts, a cheeky smile on her face. "And that's for you to think about until next time."

"Get out already before you turn me on again," Harry called at her as she exited the room, giggling at him all the way. "Damned tease." He retrieved his ashtray from his trunk and placed it on the ledge that was likely going to become his favored place to smoke.

"Time to go find Ron," he muttered, and headed off to Dean and Seamus' room, the last place he'd seen the majority of his new friends. Once he arrived, the sight that awaited him inside the room made him desperately wish he'd thought to purchase a camera, and he immediately resolved to owl-order one that day. Ron and Seamus were spooning on the bed while Fay was half draped over them, half falling off the bed – meanwhile Lavender was still asleep, utterly content on the other bed, somehow with both bedspreads on top of her when Harry was certain she'd only had one when he left. Given that the shower was running, Harry presumed that Dean had also returned.

Skirting the many empty bottles and stray articles of clothing scattered about the room, Harry decided to be the guy everyone was going to hate and opened the curtains with a single, sudden movement. "Wakey wakey!" He shouted, his voice and the sun's rays streaming into the room working in concert to wage war on everyone's senses. The annoyed and slightly pained groans of Fay, Seamus, and Ron were like music to his ears. Lavender, on the other hand, didn't move an inch.

"Bloody hell, Harry?" Fay mumbled. She then shifted, apparently not realizing the precarious position in which she lay and tumbled off the bed, her squeal of surprise also making him laugh. He enjoyed doing this to people a bit too much, even with the black eye it had once earned him when one of his friends instinctually threw the first thing they could find, a half empty can of beer… they really were such fond memories.

"Come on, kids, time to wake up."

"Wha – what time is it?" Ron asked, arm thrown over his eyes to shield them from the sun's evil rays.

"Late, now hop to it," Harry called, taking a seat on the bed next to Lavender, who had still barely so much as stirred. Something in the back of his mind told him that if he tried to wake her up with his usual methods then he'd end up with far worse than just a bruised eye. "Hey," he lightly shook her shoulder, "time to wake up, Lav."

The blonde girl mumbled something that was completely unintelligible and rolled away from him, pulling the bedspread over her eyes as she did so. A small smile came unbidden to his lips as he was reminded of Sarah. His foster sister had a habit of doing the exact same thing. Hiding under the blankets was by no means unique to the two girls, but the reminder of the pseudo-sister he hadn't seen in months was a nice one all the same. Sarah had never taken kindly to being woken up after a late night herself, so he decided to take that as a hint and leave Lavender to her slumber.

"I need food," Ron yawned, stumbling to his feet as he haphazardly pulled up his pants.

"You need a shower first." Harry glanced at his alcohol-stained clothes. "You should probably change as well, if I'm being honest."

Ron pulled his shirt up to smell it and instantly recoiled. "Yeah, you got a point there, mate."

"Hey," Fay said, rubbing her eyes as she addressed the room at large. "I don't know whose pants these are, but I'll get them back to you later."

"No one cares about any damn trousers, has anyone seen my wand?" Seamus was scrambling about on his hands and knees, desperately searching for his apparently missing wand. Poor bastard.

"Day one, and you already lost your wand?" Ron asked, utterly incredulous at the Irish teen.

"Well forgive me for being a bit preoccupied last night!" Seamus bit back, his voice muffled as he leaned down to look under one of the beds.

Harry snickered as he exited the room, Fay right behind him. "I'll wait for you in the common room, Ron," he called back."

"Seriously, where the fuck is my wand?!" Seamus' nervous cry was the last sound Harry heard from the room before the door closed behind him.

"Poor bloke," Harry began idly chatting with Fay as they walked, or lumbered in her case, in the same direction. Even after only having it a few months, the black-haired teen couldn't imagine not having his wand readily accessible.

Fay shrugged, another yawn coming unbidden to her lips. "Eh, I'm sure he'll find it before classes start."

"You really think it will take him that long?" Harry asked, not sure if he should be laughing or genuinely concerned for his friend's lost wand.

Fay shrugged cutely. "Not sure, I passed out. For all I know someone ended up throwing it out the window or shoving it up their ass."

Full, unbridled laughter erupted from Harry, his volume unknowingly making the girl alongside him recoil thanks to her hangover. Comments like that were why Harry had quickly befriended Fay during the sorting ceremony – she never hesitated to say what was on her mind.

"Hey, it's not that ludicrous of a thought! After last night it's obvious some of you are into some more kinky stuff, how am I supposed to know how far you all went?"

Harry could not be prouder of the first impression he and the others had left on her. "You were apart of that game just as much as the rest of us, Fay," Harry teased as the two stopped their walk, now just standing in the middle of one of the connecting hallways between the various dorm rooms. "Weren't you the one that dared Lav and I to smack everyone's ass, including yours?"

A light flush painted Fay's features, the only visual sign that Harry's comment had landed at all. "I didn't deny that I may or may not be included on that list."

Harry smirked at the shorter girl but chose to let the topic lie, the memory had already been brought back up and that was more than enough for him. "Regardless, Parvati and I were the last ones awake in that room and no one dared anyone to do anything with Seamus' wand. It's probably just laying under Lav or something."

The two resumed walking, Harry idly following the girl since he had nothing better to do as Fay chuckled lightly. "That might be just as bad, honestly, she seemed pretty out of it still and if I were him, I wouldn't try waking her."

"If we hear Seamus' pained screams, I think we'll be able to assume what happened."

Fay shook her head, stepping over the sleeping form of an older student that was passed out in the middle of the hallway, the guy in question had both pillows and blankets though so Harry assumed he was okay. "I don't think Seamus is that thick. He's not exactly the brightest candle if you know what I mean, but he's not that bad."

Harry could agree with that assessment. Despite how enjoyable it was to laugh at Seamus' expense, the guy seemed to enjoy being the class clown, as it were, rather than legitimately being an idiot.

"Katie! Open the goddamn door already!" A girl in nothing but a towel shouted as she slammed her hand on an apparently locked door.

"In a minute~" a far too cheerful voice sang from inside the room.

"Fucking bitch…" towel-girl muttered to herself, slamming on the door thrice more. "KATIE!"

Harry almost made to stop and question what was going on since he was absolutely certain there was some very entertaining drama to be found, but he decided against it at the last second.

"Good call not getting involved in that one," Fay murmured, her head craning back to catch a final glimpse of towel-girl before they rounded the bend. "She was cute, but that is going to turn into violence, mark my words."

"Are you trying to get me to go back and watch?" Harry asked, confused since the thought of combat magic being flung at one another by two presumably pretty girls sounded like a lovely way to kickstart his day. Harry was well aware he had issues.

Fay rolled her eyes but still she smiled. "You're incorrigible."

Harry smiled at the girl's words that unknowingly echoed Parvati's from the previous night. "I take that as a compliment."

"Just proving my point," Fay said, rubbing her eyes with one hand as she pointed towards the door on their right. "This is me, are you going to be waiting in the common room?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "I'm presuming we're going to get lost on our way to lunch so might as well get lost as a group, right?"

"That works for me," Fay began scrunching up her curly hair. "I probably won't be too long; I'm not going to bother washing this yet." Fay brought up a strand to her nose. "I don't think it smells like Ogden's…" She trailed off uncertainly.

Harry pitied the girl for her dilemma; he'd heard from numerous people he knew over the years that washing curly hair was a particularly difficult science and was a different beast for every person. The constant battle between trying to maintain the natural oils that kept the curls versus the desire to stay clean and healthy was one Harry was glad he did not have to deal with.

"Are you asking me?" Harry said.

"No… yes… maybe?" Fay held out a strand of her hair. "Do I smell like booze or Merlin forbid, Seamus' cologne?"

"Seamus was wearing cologne?"

"Not enough to be annoying or anything, it smelled pretty good honestly, but I don't want to smell like him all day," Fay clarified, still holding her hair out. "Come on, help me out I can't tell if it's me, the clothes, or what."

One whiff was all it took for Harry to realize it was most assuredly the clothes. "You're safe, someone must have spilled a drink or two last night."

"Perfect. Merlin, I cannot wait to learn some charms to help me out with problems like this," Fay walked into her room, leaving the door open behind her as she talked, so Harry assumed it was okay to follow. "Spells like that are a bit advanced compared to the shit I can do now, which is why I always had my mum help me out at home but she's obviously not here now."

Harry leaned back onto the bed as Fay began to dig through her magically enlarged trunk. "I thought they sold products that could help out with that stuff?"

"They do," Fay said, tossing clothes onto the bed, so far Harry had caught sight of some leggings, a pair of denim shorts, and an oversized t-shirt. "But I don't know, I've never been a big fan of the products I've tried. I might have to give in and use them for now, but I was a much bigger fan of natural methods combined with a few spells my mum knew."

"Thank you for the reminder of how much I love my simple and easy hair," Harry laughed, fiddling with his horribly messy, untamed, but miraculously knot free mop of hair. "Aside from occasionally tying it up when it gets too long, I don't really have to do anything but occasionally brush it."

Fay just stared at him blankly before throwing her socks at him. "And you don't bother with make-up either!"

"Isn't being me great?"

"Oh, just get out of here and go wait in the common room already!" Fay said, making her way to the bathroom with a towel in hand. "And close that door behind you, please."

Harry waved his hand as a reply as he exited the dorm. The sooner his friends gathered the better in his mind, he desperately wanted something caffeinated. Though, given the fact that they still had to navigate the magical school his desires were likely going to be shelved for a bit. Harry made his way to the common room and decided to join the first friendly face he knew seated at a table. Though, friendly might have been a stretch when it came to describing the seemingly tired and regretful duo of Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger at least appeared to be awake and alert given that she was already reading and taking notes, but the bags under her eyes combined with the slightly more frazzled hair compared to the day prior seemed to suggest a rough morning. Neville, on the other hand, was face down on the table using his arms as a substitute for a pillow. Harry wasn't the biggest fan of either of the two individuals in question, but nor did he particularly dislike them either. Well, Nev depending on the day could be a prat, but after the previous evening Harry had plenty of ammunition to work with so he decided to take a chance. Plus, conversation was more entertaining than sitting alone. If Harry had been thinking ahead then he would've grabbed a book to read while he waited but given that he likely wouldn't be waiting long he forwent the decision to walk back up to his dorm.

"Morning, friends!" Harry proclaimed, taking the seat adjacent to Hermione.

"It's the afternoon, actually," Hermione murmured, glancing at Harry out of the corner of her eye as she continued to read her book.

"Same difference, we had a long night after all, and some of us stayed up a bit after you adjourned for the evening." Harry noticed Hermione flushed lightly at the reference to the prior night but didn't press further.

Neville groaned lightly from his place on the table. "You're… surprisingly chipper right now. I figured you'd be as hungover as the rest of us."

"I've got a moderately sized headache, but little else… which is a bit surprising now that you mention it. I'm good, but I'm not normally this good." Harry genuinely wasn't sure why he was feeling as good as he was. Hangovers were an old friend at this point, and the fact that his wasn't substantially larger was a mystery.

"Lucky bastard…" Neville murmured. "And I've already told Daniel, but you all suck for leaving me on the floor! Do you know how much my back hurt when I woke up?"

"You'll be fine," Harry assured his fellow teen. "Do you know how many floors I've crashed on?"

"Many, I'm sure," Neville's succinct reply didn't miss a beat.

Harry was half certain that he'd been insulted but decided to press on. "Exactly, and I'm perfectly okay."

"That's debatable."

Alright, that one had definitely been an insult.

"Can't believe you guys cut up my pants too…" Neville said, continuing to bitch about the previous night.

"Huh? I didn't cut up your pants," Harry said, slightly confused because while the state of the guy had made him laugh, he wasn't to blame at all. "Last I saw you was shortly before I went up to the dorms and you still had one pant leg at that time."

Neville gaped at him, genuine surprise painting his features. "If you weren't the one that did that to me, then who in their right mind did?"

"You really thought it was me?" Harry asked, torn between amusement and the wonderment at how bad of a mental picture Nev had of him. He settled on both.

"I mean," Neville shifted somewhat awkwardly, "if the shoe fits, you know?"

"It does seem like the type of behavior that you might find funny, Harry," Hermione chimed in. "You strike everyone as the type of person that finds humor at the expense of others, at least to a certain extent. Damaging clothes like that knowing you could reimburse the cost of such a loss befits your style of humor rather well."

The alcohol must have done a real number on Hermione's ability to communicate because Harry had honestly forgotten just how quickly the girl talked when sober. Her words the previous night hadn't been slurred in the slightest, but they had been delivered far more slowly than the miniature rant Harry had just born witness to. Regardless though, Harry had to give it to them that their assessment of him wasn't entirely off the mark, he had thought the state of Nev's pants to be a rather amusing sight after all. "I guess that's a fair point," he acquiesced. "It genuinely wasn't me though." Harry then turned to look at Hermione. "And look at you getting involved in the conversation! Did you sleep well? Rest easy? You told us last night that was your first time getting drunk and all, also told us about-"

"Would you please not reference the previous evening to me right now?" Hermione interrupted him, her voice rising in pitch. "To be perfectly honest I am still trying to process everything that I did and said while under the effects of that foul concoction and just need a bit of time to take it all in…"

Between her inflection, the beet redness of her face, and the simple fact that Hermione had still not made eye contact with Harry despite how much he knows she values politeness, he knew exactly what she was feeling at that moment. "Oh my god, you're embarrassed, aren't you?"

"I'm mortified!" She exclaimed in a hushed tone. "I've never done anything even remotely like that before but apparently my inebriated self decided to forget every lesson on modesty that my parents ever taught me!"

Harry guffawed loudly, his hand clapping Hermione on the shoulder in commiseration, though judging by her reaction it wasn't going to be much help. "Modesty is overrated, no one in this House thinks less of you, promise." That was Harry's assumption anyway but based on the ideals and behavior that he had seen espoused so far it was a fairly safe bet in his mind.

"But I think less of me!" Hermione cried, her voice still quiet but clearly filled with shame.

Well, that wouldn't do, they lived in a post-sexual revolution era and that meant feeling shame about an enjoyable evening was a thing of the past in Harry's mind. "No reason to," he asserted confidently. "You had fun, trust me, I saw the smiles. The rest of us had fun with you, plus you didn't actually do anything but hang out under some covers." Harry paused for a moment before shrugging. "Honestly, I think more highly of you after last night rather than the opposite."

Hermione stared at him with her mouth slightly agape before audibly groaning and burying her face in her book, face still flushed beyond belief. "I know you're simply trying to make me feel better and that effort is appreciated but if I'm being perfectly honest your system of values could not be further from my own in this regard. My passing some sort of bar of approval in your eyes is quite literally the exact opposite of comforting at this moment."

Harry really didn't have a reply to that. She'd denigrated both his ethics and his attempts to help in only a few quickly spoken sentences. It appeared that his initial impressions of the girl remained accurate. Nice girl, good heart… stick still firmly lodged up her ass.

"You're useless, Harry." Ah, Nev had chimed in once again, and unfortunately Harry couldn't even deny his words.

"Yeah, I've got nothing here," Harry looked at Nev and then jerked his thumb toward Hermione, who was still hiding her face in the pages of her overly sized book. "You're up, model citizen. Give her a pep talk until we can get some caffeine in her or something."

Nev shook his head in the negative. "You already had breakfast, right, Hermione?"

Harry glanced at the girl in question with the look of a man seeing the impossible. "You already woke up, showered and got dressed, navigated the labyrinth of corridors, made it to the Great Hall, got breakfast, and made it back here?"

Hermione nodded, seemingly having squashed her embarrassment enough to engage in her standard format once more. "Well, I didn't have to navigate to the Great Hall myself seeing as I was present for the return tour offered by the prefects, I was the only one present, actually… other than that detail however, you summed up my day rather nicely."

"One," Harry held up a single finger, "I deliberately left out the soul crushing regret you feel," he ignored her eye roll. "Two, you're crazy! You were drunk as hell last night. Why didn't you sleep in?"

Hermione's book hit the table with a thud as she in turn looked at him like he was crazy. "Sleep in and miss the opportunity to not only gain a better understanding of Hogwarts' structural layout, but also to ask questions of the prefects as we walk the corridors? Please, there was no way I was going to oversleep that opportunity."

"You disturb me…" Harry muttered, quietly resolving to keep an eye on Hermione in the off chance she was secretly a Ravenclaw.

As Hermione returned to her book and Neville returned to doing whatever it was guys of his disposition did when waiting, Harry decided to idly practice his control of the Lumos charm as he reclined his chair back on two legs. All of the ambient magic in the air around Hogwarts had made him somewhat surprised that their spells still functioned as normal, but after considering that their spells were the result of their internal magic cast through a wand it wasn't quite as much of a shock. Though, it did make him wonder if wandless magic, runes, or rituals would be impacted in any way or fashion, but that was an experiment for another day. Despite the progress he'd made in his self-study of magic, Harry was well aware that he was a long, long way off from any real degree of proficiency.

The teen's encounter with Auror Savage had been a rather humbling one, but even then, Harry was still Harry. On one of his many excursions into the varied shops of Diagon Alley he'd decided to peruse a book on runes since it was one of the subjects that Tom had recommended. Harry had never found the old phrase 'it's all Greek to me' to be more appropriate. The words and diagrams on the page might as well have been a foreign language given how well he was able to make sense of them. The book was meant for beginners though, so he already had loose plans to revisit the topic after a few months.

Only about twenty or so minutes had passed when Harry heard the now familiar voices of Ron and Fay approaching.

"You've got to be on something if you think the Cannon's stand so much as a snowball's chance in hell of beating the Arrows this season," Fay said, dismissively waving her hand towards the red-haired teen. "We signed Clive Hemlock for Merlin's sake."

Ron snorted derisively. "You're actually proud of that signing?"

"And why wouldn't I be? Hemlock was fourth in goals scored across the entire league last season!" Fay's voice was growing more impassioned by the second.

Harry approved of her ardent quidditch love, though he hadn't a clue as to why they were arguing when it was clear to him that the Harpies were the best. That reminded him that he had a poster to hang as soon as he got the chance.

"Hemlock isn't bad, I'll give him that," Ron acquiesced, but his body language screamed confidence for all to see. Harry wasn't even sure he could pull off that 'I'm about to win the argument' posture so well. "But you, I, and every other fan out there knows that the main reason Hemlock had such good numbers was because he had the best beater in the entire league constantly guarding him."

Fay almost flinched at that comment. "I… can't really deny that point. Button is better than anyone at defending his chasers."

"Exactly! And without Button backing him up Hemlock's numbers are going to plummet." The two friends had long since reached Harry's table, but they were so engaged in their conversation neither so much as acknowledged the others in the room. "Hemlock is a pretty good shooter, one-on-one with a keeper and the odds are definitely in his favor-"

"But without Button guarding him on the leadup or setting up a safe zone to pass, Hemlock won't be in scoring position as often, I know," Fay finished for him dejectedly before perking back up. "The Arrows' beaters aren't complete slouches though! And there are still rumors of us replacing Merril."

Harry appreciated the girl's optimism in this regard, much like he did Ron's when it came to the Cannons. Unfortunately for them, they were both fans of perennial bottom half teams. The Arrows last year though, but it was the first time in five years. Their reputation wasn't great right now, but they weren't the Cannon's.

"This late into free agency I'd say you're probably stuck with Merril," Ron countered, though his eyes narrowed in thought. "I supposed it's still possible for the Arrows to sign an import now that I think about it."

"Right?" Fay said excitedly. "We've only used two of our three potential slots, and our head coach spent some time as a chaser coach in Australia, Japan, and France. That's a lot of foreign connections! For all we know he's got his eye on a promising rookie from another country!"

"But why would they wait so long to announce this new player?" Harry chimed into the conversation after seeing a flaw in Fay's optimistic outcome. "If they could replace Merril, who everyone knows isn't great, wouldn't they want to get that announcement out there sooner rather than later? A new rookie to place their hope in would do wonders for fans, recruitment, and sponsors alike."

"Why do you have to hurt me like this, Harry?" Fay sighed, her voice flat.

"He's right though," Ron agreed, "The British and Irish league is a fairly high skill one, not quite on the level of the Chinese or Balkan leagues, and don't even get me started on the Amazonian league, they're just insane…" The red head trailed off briefly before seemingly remembering that he was in the middle of a conversation. "My point though is that if there was a promising player from one of the regions you mentioned, then it's a fair bet that they'd leap at the chance to play here and thus the signing wouldn't be a prolonged affair worthy of being kept secret."

Harry had to give credit where it was due, Ron really knew his quidditch. Harry was aware of the international scene's existence, but Ron spoke about it with a level of familiarity that went far beyond what he was capable of. Harry made a mental note to see if there were any Wizarding Wireless stations that broadcasted international matches on a regular basis.

"Now I'm hungover and depressed about the Arrows' upcoming season. Thanks, guys, really," Fay remarked dryly as she pushed her dark curls away from her eyes.

"Happy to help," Harry said, raising a nonexistent glass in her direction. "Are we waiting on Lav and Parvati?"

"No, I ran into Lav on my way down and she said to go ahead without her," Fay replied. "She said she was going to be awhile so there was no point in us waiting."

Harry shrugged unconcernedly. "I was wondering if that was going to be the case, she mentioned on the train that she likes to be punctual, but I'm guessing all bets are off after alcohol enters the fray."

"Probably," Ron agreed. "My brother Charlie is the same way, morning after a late night and it's impossible to get him up quickly. There was this one time where half our house was on fire and we still couldn't get him up."

"I take it that story had a happy ending since you're telling it so casually?" Harry confirmed, hopeful that his friend's house didn't burn to the ground instead of him just being blasé because it was the norm.

"Yeah, luckily my oldest brother Bill was home and he was able to get the fire squared away pretty quickly. Let's start walking while we talk," Ron waved them along as he started walking to the exit. "Later Nev, later Hermione."

"Tell Daniel I'll catch up with him on what he was up to all morning later," Harry called back to Neville, waggling his eyebrows as he and Fay followed after Ron. As eager as he was to grill his little brother about what he got up to the previous evening, that was a conversation that could wait a few hours.

"Can do," Neville said, seemingly unenthused at the idea of being a messenger but too polite to turn down the request.

Harry noted that Hermione didn't say a single word after Fay and Ron showed up but chose not to embarrass her further by drawing attention to that fact. She hadn't run away red faced and screaming and that was pretty much progress in his book.

"Okay," Fay said, "now that we're walking, please clarify how the hell that fire even got started. Had to be more than something like a grease fire or your mum would've taken care of it, yeah?"

"Oh, well…" Ron nervously rubbed the back of his head before eyeing the other students within earshot and lowering his voice. "Let's just say that for legal reasons I was told not to discuss it where others might hear, so…"

Harry stared at his friend and one would be forgiven for seeing stars in his eyes. "Ron, every new thing I learn about you and your family excites me more and more."

"That's nice and all," Ron responded, "but which way do we go?" The three friends had arrived at their first set of stairs and had absolutely no idea which path they should take and no older students nearby to ask.

"Nothing else for it then," Harry said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the same galleon he'd found spinning on the streets of Diagon Alley. "Heads we go up; tails we go down."

OoooOoooO

"Why am I not surprised to find you back here already?"

"What can I say, Raashid, you know me pretty well by now."

"Ha, after sharing a dorm with you for two years I should damn well hope so… I've got to say though, Cedric, your interest in this… whatever it is, it is starting to become an obsession."

"I know…"

"And yet here you are again."

"It's not like I skipped the feast or anything."

"That is true… but still, the fact that you're here by yourself on the second day of term rather than socializing as I know you are fond of doing, that says a lot."

"You could always bring some of our friends here. That would be the best of both worlds, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, please. You and I both know this magic is beyond most of our peers. They would get bored within minutes and then falsify some excuse as to why they have to leave. I simply do not wish to hear their lies."

"I knew you weren't actually interested in socializing."

"I was speaking for your sake, Cedric, not my own. Everyone knows I'm the brilliant recluse, you're the one that ought to be maintaining appearances."

"Recluse my ass, you just find most people boring."

"I don't deny it."

"Well, since you're here-"

"You want me to assist you?"

"It would be helpful."

"I already told you that I haven't the faintest idea as to what is causing this 'flicker' of magic, as you put it."

"I didn't either at first, but the more I study it and the rest of this room, the more clues I've discovered."

"You didn't tell me you were making progress."

"You didn't ask."

"That is… fair, I suppose. Very well, show me what you have found."

"Okay, so as best as I can tell the 'flicker' that I'm seeing is an unintended side effect of something else entirely."

"What led you to that conclusion?"

"The runic arrays scattered and hidden throughout this room."

"Full arrays? As in plural?"

"Yeah, and as best as I can tell they're connected somehow."

"Curious. Have you been able to translate or decrypt any of them?"

"Not even a little bit. I was doing a lot of self-study on runes over the summer, but nothing I've read has been applicable to translating these."

"I'm certain we'll find something to aid us in the library."

"Probably, but that's not all I've discovered."

"Oh?"

"The room itself is a perfect circle. Literally perfect."

"You're thinking alchemy or rituals were involved as well?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I intend to find out."

OoooOoooO

"My efforts to perfect a potion of true invisibility are continuing as expected. I have confirmed the common theory that the hair of a Demiguise is integral in the brewing process, but unlike many others I do not believe it will serve as the principal ingredient in the final product. Cease dictation," the final, softly spoken words from Severus Snape caused the quill scratching in a bedraggled journal to come to a halt before gently floating to the side of the page.

The youngest professor at Hogwarts was currently pacing throughout his personal potions laboratory, a hand rolled cigarette held betwixt two fingers in his left hand, a tumbler of whiskey served over never-melting ice in his right. The brooding Potions Master wasn't a conventionally attractive man by any stretch of the imagination. Severus was a tall, thin man with skin that was slightly sallow after decades of smoking and regular exposure to experimental potion fumes. His large, hook nose was the dominating feature of his face – a feature that was only accentuated further by his shoulder-length black hair that framed his face like curtains. The man sported uneven teeth, a goatee, and his black eyes were sinister pools rather than being warm. Despite all of this though, there was a reason no one had spoken ill of his appearance since his school days when he had worn dirty, mismatched clothes and lacked proper hygiene. Those days were long gone.

The strong, authoritative presence he carried about his persona at all times dramatically altered how he was perceived. Severus held no illusions that he wasn't still a hated man for innumerable reasons, but the men and women that had scorned him as a teen for his appearance and manner of dress would not dare speak ill of him now – and it was not simply out of fear. Severus himself could not have cared less about what the foolish throngs of witches and wizards thought of his appearance. There had only ever been one woman whose opinion he cared about, and she had been in the ground for years… No, that was a lie. There were others, he just didn't want to admit it.

"Dictation quill number four," Severus called out, a separate quill on the other side of the room rising to attention. "Two cores of a Mephit, elemental type unimportant. Venom of an Amphisbaena from the Mediterranean region. Powdered Zorbo claws. Two vials of Subterranean Choker blood. Cease dictation." As large as the research stipend Hogwarts granted to him was, he would probably need to dip into some of his personal funds to help cover the costs of the Mephit cores. Not that money was any sort of real obstacle for him. The number of patents he'd licensed to brewing companies over the years ensured that he had plenty of money. Plus, he could easily go to one of the Potions Guilds across Europe and ask for a grant if he ever needed to. Given that Severus had already proven that he could produce results, the Guilds wouldn't even hesitate to throw galleons at him. Not that he actually wanted to rely on the Guilds, using their money meant that any recipes he developed using said money belonged to them even though the credit remained his. In his experience he much preferred having full control over his own creations.

A light knock at the door pulled Severus from his ruminations. "Enter," he answered.

"Pardon the intrusion, Professor," the voice of Rae Lawson reached his ears before the young woman had finished stepping through the door.

Severus would not consider it a stretch to say that Miss Lawson was the single most talented student in her entire year. Intelligent, capable, a consummate Slytherin, and undeniably attractive on top of it. The only adverse condition she faced was that she was a half-blood, but that just made her strides within Slytherin all the more impressive. The petite, black haired fourth year with ice blue eyes strode forward into Severus' laboratory with an air of familiarity. Students were allowed to visit him in his laboratory since the location was by no means a secret, but few students, even among Slytherins, had the guts to do so. Rae Lawson, however, was different than most students.

"Is there something I can help you with, Miss Lawson?" Severus asked the girl as she walked around his lab peering into the cauldrons. Thankfully, the girl was smart enough to not touch anything nor lean in too closely.

Rae turned to face him, her lips forming a small smile as she nodded to his hands. "Drinking and smoking already, Professor? Isn't it a tad early for such things?"

Severus exhaled a steady stream of smoke. "Trust me, Miss Lawson, should you ever find yourself a professor at an institution attended by mostly teenagers, you will understand why it is I so heavily rely on my vices."
Vices that were many in number if he was being honest. The cigarettes were a habit he'd indulged in since before he started at Hogwarts. One of the only memories he had of speaking with his father without yelling or raised fists was when they sat on the front steps of their old home. His father had passed him a cigarette and asked how school had been going. That was when he'd been fourteen. Severus had essentially quit the habit after starting Hogwarts. The infrequency in which he actually smoked while attending as a student had meant that the addiction had practically faded from his system entirely. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't help but light up at his father's funeral post-graduation. The catharsis he had felt knowing he was the reason the bastard that helped spawn him was finally in the dirt while the somber faces of his father's extended family and friends had no clue… he simply couldn't pass up the poetry of having a smoke at that moment. The habit had been a mainstay in his life ever since.

The drinking was another beast entirely. There was no other reason than it helped him forget. The choices he had made, the regrets he had, the people he'd lost… alcohol diluted his senses and allowed him to sleep. Pathetic didn't even begin to describe him, but he was functioning, and that was enough. To say nothing of the sexual coping mechanisms he'd developed over the years. Most people weren't aware of his unhealthy relationship with red headed prostitutes, never mind the odd affair he'd been involved in... Psychiatrists would have a field day if they ever got him to open up. Not that there was ever a chance of that happening, the young professor would literally rather die than engage with a stranger about his past trauma and feelings.

A fit of laughter from the young woman in front of him was her only reply to his cynical comment, and in spite of his best efforts he could not tell if it was genuine or fake. Begrudgingly, he was impressed. "Why are you here?" Severus asked again, his voice a bit more forceful than the first time but not quite hitting the levels he used with the students from other Houses.

"Is it not obvious?" Rae quirked her head as she stood in front of his desk. The girl enjoyed her little games far too much. They both knew there was an infinite number of reasons as to why she would wish to speak with him. Even if he made an educated guess, referring to her reason for visiting as 'obvious' was an extreme hyperbole.

"Elucidate me," Severus said dryly.

Rae brushed a rogue strand of hair out of her eyes. "I had questions pertaining to the Headmaster's warning at the feast last night."

Ah, so that's what this is about. "Do you?" Severus asked, pausing as he inhaled and released a lungful of high quality, scented smoke. There was a very good reason he rolled his own cigarettes. "I do believe the Headmaster's words were rather simple and to the point, but if you have questions, you may ask them." Severus couldn't resist the somewhat petty comment at her expense. "Though I will preface your inquiries by stating that I do not promise satisfactory answers."

Rae pouted at that. "Even for me?" She punctuated her question by surreptitiously adjusting her already short skirt so that it revealed more skin. Merlin, she really was just like her.

Once upon a time Severus would have likely fallen right into Rae's ensnaring ways and been dancing to her tune as every other boy in her House was. However, that was a less wise, less cunning version of himself from ages passed. Severus didn't even allow his eyes to flit down to the exposed skin, instead maintaining piercing eye contact with the girl that while undeniably attractive, was also his student. Severus did not personally have any care or consideration for the nebulous moral reasons as to why one should not engage with their students sexually, but he had other considerations to take into account at this time.

"Ask your questions, Miss Lawson," Severus said plainly, placing his tumbler down and leaning forward over his desk, cigarette still held lightly in his grasp.

"Would there be any value in trying to find out what is now so dangerous about the third-floor corridor? Furthermore, ascertaining if there is any reason as to why Hogwarts now boasts a dangerous corridor?" Rae asked, having largely forgone the cutesy façade she frequently wore to instead engage with him directly.

The soon to be twenty-year old's subtle flirtations would likely return at some point as was her modus operandi at this point but given that it had clearly failed this time around she was favoring a more straightforward approach. Said approach was objectively less conniving than the alternative, but given the rapport already established between the two of them it was not an incorrect avenue to take.

The truth of the matter is that there was a definite value to be found in investigating the traps and trials set by the Hogwarts staff leading up to the Stone. Not that Miss Lawson would ever reach the Stone, of course. The staff had all designed their trials to be non-lethal, but they were still extraordinarily difficult and complex. To get through them would require more skill and knowledge than what one student in her fourth year could likely possess. That's not even counting the countless wards that Dumbledore had placed to alert him and the staff should anyone ever begin making their way through the trials. But even then, Severus thought there was quite a bit of valuable information that could be gleaned by looking into the matter.

"There is always value in acquiring knowledge, especially knowledge that others do not have. Applying that knowledge, however, will be up to you." A part of Severus wanted his student to succeed if only to see what she did next. In spite of his initial trepidations, he had found himself rather invested as an educator as time went on. Most of the students that he had to teach weren't worth his time, but on occasion a student with true aptitude would walk through his doors. With those individuals he genuinely found himself curious as to how far they could go. Rae Lawson was absolutely one such student.

Rae hummed lightly, her thoughts clearly awhirl. It was curious being able to see such a side of his student. Severus had not seen her so honest in her emotions outside of his office. Even around her friends she never let her guard down. Not that he believed she had completely dropped her masks, but this side of her was seemingly more genuine than what she normally wore. "Any advice on what I should look for once I reach the corridor?"

The young woman must have been more intimidated by Dumbledore's warning than she initially let on if she was being so openly cautious. Severus actually counted that as a mark in her favor. For all of his eccentricities Dumbledore was not the kind of man that joked about death lightly. Ironically enough in this instance, his words had been hyperbole as death was not the likely outcome should students ignore his warning, but their belief in his warning was a boon to the staff. The fewer students investigating the corridor, the better. Severus recognized his somewhat hypocritical thoughts on the matter since he had given tacit approval to Miss Lawson to investigate, but he honestly didn't care. A Slytherin would not enter the trials with the same brazen, foolish bluster that a Gryffindor would. That distinction mattered.

"I have no advice to offer," Severus responded around a mouthful of smoke before snuffing out the cigarette in the ashtray he kept on his desk. "All of the tools required to accomplish your self-appointed task are already at your disposal."

Rae smiled at him. "That was a piece of advice in of itself, you know?"

"However you choose to interpret my words is your decision, not my own," Severus said, rising from the chair behind his desk and stirring one of the many cauldrons in the room precisely nine times counterclockwise. "Will that be all, Miss Lawson?"

The girl in question instead chose to take a seat on his desk, crossing one leg over the other as her gaze looked over the many potions he had brewing. "Did you have a good summer, Professor Snape?"

So that will not be all… "It was quiet. I was able to conduct my research free from both distraction and interruption." Severus was not trying to be subtle; he was rather fond of her as a student, but unless she had an important matter to discuss he would much prefer she leave sooner rather than later.

"That sounds lovely," Rae remarked cheerfully, her lips turning into a small smile. "I'm glad it was so peaceful for you."

Rae's words were utterly benign and of absolutely no interest to him. Severus was certain her small talk served a greater purpose, but he did not have the patience to entertain it at this time. Other Slytherins would talk around each other all day long, never saying what they mean outright but always managing to convey their intended meaning all the same. Severus Snape was not that type of individual.

Thankfully for him, their conversation was interrupted by a light knock at the door. "Enter," he repeated just as he had done a few minutes prior.

Instead of a student walking through his door, Severus was greeted by the neutral face of one of his colleagues, Quirinus Quirrell. "Ah, my apologies, Severus, Miss Lawson, I had assumed you would be alone. Is now a bad time?"

"Not at all, Miss Lawson was just leaving," Severus drawled, making eye contact with the fourth year who, despite her best efforts, seemed more than a bit annoyed at the unavoidable dismissal.

"Thank you for your time, Professor Snape," Rae said, the saccharin sweetness of her voice grating on his ears. She knew he hated when she took on that tone. "Professor Quirrell," she bid the other professor farewell and exited the room.

Severus waited to speak until the door had closed behind Rae, the runic sequences to block out noise completed with the thud of the heavy, wooden door. He took that brief moment of time to examine the former Muggle Studies professor with a critical eye. The man did not cut the most impressive figure with his premature baldness and excessively sharp features weighed against his thin frame. At least his suit was tailored to fit his frame, though Severus thought the man was a tad too fond of purple. As was the case with many of the impressive men and women the young Potions professor had met over the years however, appearances could be deceiving.

Quirinus Quirrell had earned his respective teaching positions. To teach Muggle Studies he had to be knowledgeable on more than just the muggle world, but also advanced muggle sciences and the intricacies of their rapidly evolving world. Chemistry and Physics from a mundane perspective did not greatly matter to the average magical, but Quirrell was an expert in both fields. Though the ignorant scoffed at the class' purpose, there was a reason Muggle Studies was taught at Hogwarts.

Then there was the man's new status as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Severus had made a point of requesting his credentials when Dumbledore made mention of his application, and despite his presuppositions to the contrary, Quirrell was more than qualified for the role. Exemplary OWL and NEWT scores in all of the required fields. Over half a dozen letters of recommendation from notable individuals and groups across Europe that spoke of his prowess in identifying and handling magical creatures and beasts. The man had even taken part in a number of special operations in Belgium where he worked alongside the local equivalent of the aurors dismantling known terrorist cells for which he had received special commendations from their government.

Severus was not very fond of the majority of his colleagues on a personal level, but it was a fact that each and every one of them held his respect when it came to their prowess in their respective fields. Hogwarts was the preeminent school across Europe, debatably the world. To be a teacher at such an institution necessitated being more than just good – you had to be great.

"I must say, I still have trouble reconciling that young woman with the girl I knew when she was a first year," Quirinus said, shaking his head absentmindedly as he wordlessly conjured himself a simple chair to sit upon.

"Two years is a long time," Severus replied, his tone as soft and dry as it was with his student. Even to those he respected, he did not often bother with social niceties.

"Ah, I suppose you are correct," Quirinus assented. "Especially in regards to students. So impressionable yet so ready to discover themselves. An intelligent individual will never stop seeking growth, but I still believe the years one spends as a student are particularly special."

"It's like I'm speaking with Dumbledore," Severus took an extra large drink from his tumbler and grabbed the bottle.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Quirinus laughed, waiting patiently to take the bottle from Severus' hands to pour himself a small glass after receiving a small wave of approval. "I don't think many would argue that Dumbledore is a great man."

Quirinus was correct in his assessment, but he missed the mark believing Severus was among Dumbledore's defenders. Undeniably, Albus Dumbledore was one of the most knowledgeable and powerful people alive. Severus would openly laugh at anyone that dared to say the Hogwarts Headmaster was anything but a fantastic wizard… but that was not the full measure of an individual in Severus' eyes. Ironically, that was an area that he and Dumbledore would agree on – but their respective criteria that they chose to judge based on likely could not be further apart.

Quirinus jumped on Severus' lack of reply and inclined his head toward the door. "We are safe to discuss classified subjects in this room I presume?"

Severus slowly spun the liquid within his glass and nodded. "Anyone that makes an attempt to listen in will find themselves wishing that they hadn't." The head of Slytherin House would not abide anyone trying to spy on him, student or otherwise.

"Perfect, then if you do not mind," Quirinus leaned forward, his eyes strangely glinting in the low light, "I would like to gauge your opinion on the rather suspect series of events taking place in our esteemed school."

The shadows in the room flickered and danced, almost as if they were orchestrated to do so on the heels of Quirinus' intriguing statement. "Explain."

Quirinus scoffed, leaning back in conjured chair and crossing his legs. "Come now, Severus, don't play dumb. The Stone's placement in the school, Daniel Potter attending Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy becoming the Chairman of the Governor's Board. That's not even including how the Centaurs have been all up in arms ever since the total eclipse back in July. We live in strange times, Severus, and I do not believe them all to be coincidence."

Severus did not allow his interest to reflect on his features, the same dour expression present as always. "If you do not believe these events to coincidence, then you believe someone, or something is orchestrating them."

"Not necessarily orchestrating, but rather capitalizing," Quirinus clarified, his finger rising into the air as he was fond to do during his lectures. For his sake, Severus hoped he was not intentionally comparing him to a student.

Severus did not disagree with the Defense Professor's theory. Dumbledore had shared his belief in the Dark Lord's survival years prior, and to a certain degree was concerned that he could be the mysterious thief that sought the Stone. No one could say for certain the feelings that the Dark Lord would harbor toward his vanquisher, but Severus had a better guess than most. He knew the Dark Lord hated any and all obstacles to his authority, and though he did not know the full scope of how, Daniel Potter was an obstacle in every sense of the word. Dumbledore was not the senile, soft-hearted fool that many of his detractors claimed he was, but nor was he the ruthless, conniving mastermind that others believed him to be – that Severus wished him to be. Dumbledore had his moments where he showed the spine required of those in his positions. It really wasn't that difficult of a stretch to imagine that he was using both Daniel Potter and the Stone as bait. The Headmaster would be taking a very daring gamble for sure, but if it paid off then he would safeguard Britain from one of the greatest threats it had ever faced.

Then there was Lucius Malfoy to consider, but even the thought of guessing what that man was up to was enough to drive Severus back toward his drink. Lucius had always been devilishly clever, a gift that seemed to have blossomed in the wake of the Dark Lord's demise. A great deal of Death Eaters had managed to elude incarceration via various methods, but few had come out the other side smelling of roses like Lucius. Less than two decades after publicly admitting to having served as the unwilling pawn of terrorists, and Lucius Malfoy was richer than ever, had the ear of the Minister of Magic, and served on the Board of Governor's at Hogwarts.

Families such as the Notts or the Rosiers may have been able to keep most of their financial holdings and status as Ancient and Noble Houses, but their standing in the eyes of the layman had been shot to hell, and yet the Malfoys were still held in high esteem. Severus did not know who Lucius had threatened, bribed, and silenced over the years, but the man had made done exceedingly well for himself. Severus would not even blink if he learned that the rising tensions with the Centaurs were an orchestration of his doing. To what purpose, Severus couldn't say, but he had learned long ago to not underestimate the Malfoy patriarch.

"I do not begrudge you your suspicions, but I believe at this juncture they are nothing but," Severus drawled, the ice clinking in his glass as he raised it to his lips.

"True, but that is why I came to you for your opinions."

"Fishing for validation, are we?" The taunt was not entirely deserved, but Severus held his acerbic tongue for no one.

Quirinus smirked, evidently unperturbed by the goading remark. "Your words, not mine, but I cannot deny the veracity."

The young Potions professor would never offer up his genuine thoughts on the subject, but he supposed a bit of engagement wouldn't hurt. "I am of the opinion that Dumbledore has his eyes on the Potter boys, the one with the scar obviously the more important of the two."

"I believe the elder twin prefers Evans as his surname, but nevertheless that is an interesting theory. Why both of them?"

Decades of study into the magical art of Occlumency and the ability to control his emotions were all that kept Severus from hurling destructive spells around the room. Potter's spawn dared to claim the name Evans. It was bad enough having to bear witness to the likeness of James walk around with her eyes, but to have his attitude as well was confirmation that Severus had angered the gods of fate at some point in his life. The damned teen had strutted even while walking to the Sorting Hat. The way in which he bantered with the newest of the Weasley herd. Severus did not simply see similarities between Harry and his father, it was like they were the same damn person. Dumbledore would not allow him to fail students outright, but Severus was already imagining inventive ways to make the Potter brats lives hell in his classroom. Petty spite remained his one true companion through the ages.

"The Headmaster's interest in the Boy Who Lived is obvious, but I believe he sees the older twin as simply another avenue by which to gain access to the younger."

"If I recall, the two were raised separately from each other, correct?" Quirinus rhetorical question neither merited nor received a response from Severus before he continued talking. "Surely that estrangement means the elder's value is lessened in such regard?"

"Dumbledore is an endless optimist. He likely believes that the two brothers will form a relationship anew."

Dumbledore's intentions for the Potter twins were probably both genuine and Machiavellian in nature. Severus did not believe the man to be evil, but he was a schemer for certain. And even if ill will was intended for them, short of their lives being taken Severus was happy to sit back and watch it all happen. Adults they were clearly not, but nor were they children that had yet to advance beyond prepubescence. In Severus' spiteful mind, they deserved any consequences that might befall them.

"And what of the Stone?" Quirinus probed.

"Bait, of that there is no doubt. It is the only explanation behind why the location was announced," Severus said, utterly confident in his assertion. The design of the traps themselves was genius, Dumbledore had tapped into truly ancient magic when establishing them. By designing trials that were meant to be solved, he ensured they could not be circumnavigated. There was no way around the traps but through them, at least no method that had ever been discovered. From there it was simply a matter of warding the various rooms beyond the realm of reason and designing the trials to take time to pass through. Whoever the thief was, they would get through the traps, but if it took them long enough then they would be forced to contend with the wrath of the Headmaster, a prospect that Severus did not consider to be enviable in the slightest.

"I am glad to see we were of the same mind," the Defense professor murmured, his gaze flickering to the door that Severus noted curiously was not to his back. Quirinus had adjusted his chair to not be angled so that the door and the desk were in his line of sight. "I believe his tactic was far too heavy handed though… the students' curiosity will spur them toward that corridor in droves."

Severus shrugged unconcernedly. Most of the students would relent their investigations the moment they realized there was a genuine threat to be found on the third-floor corridor and the traps within. Pain and fear were remarkable deterrents to those that were not mentally prepared for such barriers.

"Perhaps that was the purpose," Quirinus began, his words more of a vocal expression of his inner musing rather than an address to Severus. "No one has seen the thief, but it has been demonstrated that bloodshed is not their way. Students crowding the trials would prove an accidental safe-guard that couldn't be accounted for."

"An ever-changing variable," Severus continued in slight surprise. A brilliant strategy if their profile of the thief was accurate. If it was not, then casualties were unavoidable.

Quirinus began to chuckle, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose even as the hollow mirth escaped him. "Only a wizard such as Dumbledore would come up with such a strategy and actually implement it within a school. All these years and still I find myself shocked."

Severus did not have even the slightest clue as to what the man could be referring to, but he recognized the realization he'd arrived at. Humbling experiences had the potential to bring about clarity for those that had even an iota of self-awareness. Though it appeared that his lessons were far less excruciating than those that Severus had endured. Whether it was at the hands of Potter and Black, the Dark Lord himself, or even Dumbledore… pain had been his stalwart companion ever since he has a boy.

"Pardon me for that display," Quirinus said, slowly shaking his head as his eyes rose to meet Severus' own. "The reasons as to why are personal, I'm afraid, but the realization our conversation led me to was obviously quite impactful."

Severus raised his tumbler into the air, casually gesturing toward the exit with two fingers extended. "No need to linger here on my account then, take your leave and collect your thoughts. We can continue our discussion another time."

Quirinus seized the polite offer without hesitation and immediately left Severus to his solitude. The Defense professor's reaction was curious to say the least, but not to the point that it genuinely aroused Severus' interest. His own mind was enough of a labyrinth for him to worry about, he felt no need to concern himself with whatever thoughts plagued Quirinus' mind.

The minutes dragged on in almost complete silence as Severus nursed his alcohol and pondered what had been brought to his attention. The more he considered what Quirinus had said, the more he felt the need to thank the absentee professor for coming to speak with him. There really were far too many factors and events at play for Severus to dismiss them as mere coincidence. Unfortunately, he lacked the necessary information to come to any real conclusions. Still, it couldn't hurt to monitor the more important pawns currently present in the school. Who could say for certain what he might uncover?

OoooOoooO

"I'll be damned, is that you, Lockhart?"

"Hestia? Hestia Jones! Bless my soul, it is so good to see you! How many years has it been?"

"Eight years, at least! Not surprising when you've spent the better part of the last decade traveling the world and fighting monsters. For someone that made us all swear to keep in touch after Hogwarts, you've been the worst of the lot, mister!"

"Oh, please don't judge me too harshly, Hestia, you know how the thrill of adventure always called to me."

"Relax, Gil, you know we'd never hold anything against you. Now give me a hug, it's been too long."

"I really did miss all of you, you know. My travels have been exciting, but few things compare to spending time with friends."

"Lay it on thicker, Gil, really."

"I am being absolutely genuine!"

"Please, we've all read your books. I'm sure you much prefer the company of werewolves in Wagga Wagga, or banshees in Bandon."

"Still as teasing as ever, I see. The real events were nothing like in the books, you know. I was under the care of a healer for over a month after the events in Bandon! And I was lucky not to be bitten by a werewolf! Lucky, I tell you!"

"So, you didn't use a spell no one has ever heard of to turn the werewolf back into a human?"

"Ugh, I told Bernie, he's my co-author, that exaggerating the details for storytelling purposes was fine, but he made the events nothing but fiction…"

"You're adorable."

"You only say that because you do not realize the difficulties I face. I am famous in two different ways to two entirely different groups of people."

"Oh, woe is you."

"Laugh all you want, but it is a tight balancing act to juggle the fame from being a legitimate hunter of dark creatures versus the fame from being a sensationalist author and the basis for the main character in a fantasy series."

"How do you manage with legions of fans, loads of gold, and a stellar reputation?"

"Your sarcasm is also as biting as ever."

"You know I never was able to resist, that habit hasn't gone away. But what are you doing back in town? Just dropping by, or will this be an extended stay?"

"Extended stay, indefinite if I am being honest… Can you keep a secret?"

"You have to ask?"

"With you, I suppose not. Anyway, I am back in the Britain because I am working on an autobiography. A legitimate one. A book about me and my life that bridges the gaps between how I've actually lived versus the hyperbolic and fictitious depictions in my books."

"Wow, that's amazing, Gil!"

"Do you really believe so? I admit, I've been considering whether or not it was too early in my career to write an autobiography."

"It's abnormal, but no one can deny the incredible life you've led after Hogwarts! Most of us were still trying to land apprenticeships or jobs in our chosen fields, but you'd already left the country and thrown yourself into the real dangers of the world! That deserves to be shared in an honest way."

"Thank you for the kind words. I needed them. Merlin, talking to you again it's like we're back at Hogwarts. I've made many friends over the years, but I have not been so open to another in some time."

"Always a smiling face to the camera, huh?"

"I am a five-time winner for a reason."

"Can't believe your fake smile still works that well."

"It always was my greatest weapon, though I resent the accusation that it is always fake."

"Ha, I am well aware of how well you utilized it back in our Hogwarts days. I heard all the rumors about Gilderoy Lockhart and his 'weapon.'"

"Oh, Merlin… Olivia told you, didn't she?"

"About your accidental rendezvous in Germany? Yes, she did."

"Did she tell you that wasn't our first tryst…?"

"She didn't, but I suspected, and it only took a few bottles of her favorite brandy before secrets started spilling. I'm still surprised neither of you told me back in Hogwarts."

"When I look back, I'm a bit surprised myself. I think I was afraid you'd hex me."

"Not afraid of that possibility now?"

"Less so. I am at least somewhat confident in my dueling skills these days."

"Uh-huh. And the M-sec station less than a block away has nothing to do with your confidence?"

"I admit, it does help."

OoooOoooO

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed, holding his hands aloft as he happily walked towards the large entryway into the Great Hall.

Harry, Ron, and Fay had spent the better part of the last two hours navigating the esteemed halls and corridors of Hogwarts searching for the Great Hall. An attempt that taught them virtually nothing about the layout of the school given how frequently they'd found themselves turned around or back in the same location.

"If I ever come across that painting of the man in the lion costume again, I might just set him on fire," Harry grumbled, running his fingers through his hair and claiming a seat on the bench next to Ron. The red head in question had already grabbed himself a plate and was in the process of putting himself together a sandwich from the variety of ingredients that were laid about on the table, all magically kept at the optimal temperature, of course.

Fay sat across from Harry and grabbed a nearby pot of tea. "Let me know when you do, I want to help."

"I still think that was funnier than you all are giving him credit for," Ron chuckled at the pair's anger.

Fay narrowed her eyes. "We asked him how to get to the Great Hall, not to guide us to a damn window where we could see the Great Hall in the distance!"

"Not to mention the implication that we could always jump and hope for the best," Harry grumbled, taking the pot from Fay. On an objective level the black-haired teen could appreciate the dumb but amusing humor to be found in messing with new students… but by that point in time he half wanted to get to the Great Hall just so Fay could get some caffeine in her system. Mental notes had been taken – always get Fay caffeine as early as possible so as to avoid her bitchy state.

"It's about time you all got here!" Lavender abruptly said, surprising Harry since he had not seen the girl when he entered the hall. He must have been more out of it than he thought after their trek through the school.

"Why am I not surprised you managed to beat us here?" Fay groaned, both hands held around her steaming cup of tea as if it were her only comfort left in the world.

"Well, once Parvati and I had finished getting ready we were about ready to leave the common room when this second-year guy offered to guide us." Lavender's smile said more than her words ever could. Harry couldn't even blame the nameless guy for making a move, Lav and Parvati were both incredibly beautiful girls. Unfortunately for him, both girls knew exactly how pretty they were and how to utilize such gifts.

"How thick did you lay it on?" Ron asked, amused rather than annoyed at how easily the two girls managed to find an escort.

Lavender waved her hand in a so-so gesture. "Probably a bit too much, honestly. I don't know, he was nice enough but…" She paused in thought. "Fuck, what was his name?"

"Clearly he left an impact," Fay muttered, her death-grip maintained with one hand as the other began to pull food within her reach.

"Where'd Parvati run off to?" Harry asked.

Lavender chose to bastardize another perfectly nice cuppa as she answered him. "Oh, we ran into her sister, Padma, once we got down here. Chatted for a bit, but then they went off together, presumably for twin stuff or something."

Ron arched an eyebrow. "Twin stuff?"

"I don't know, I'm an only child."

The four friends talked for awhile as they filled their stomachs and for some nursed the lingering effects from the previous evening. Harry kept his eye out for any friendly or at least familiar faces, but aside from catching a few glimpses of some of the various students he'd encountered on the train, there was no one he even knew the name of aside from the one guy that he had seen in the company of Malfoy. Harry probably should have tried to catch his name at the Sorting ceremony, but he had completely forgotten to do so.

The guy in question still looked like hell, but in a sad way it seemed to fit him. He did not look as bad as when they were on the train platform, but his appearance was still exceedingly disheveled and marred by what appeared to be perpetual exhaustion. He sat alone, his back facing the wall, and he constantly seemed to be watching everyone around him. Hell, the more Harry watched the more convinced he was the guy was absolutely paranoid.

Harry realized he'd been staring a bit too long when the teen's gaze locked onto his own, his brow furrowing at being examined by a random Gryffindor from across the Hall. "Ah, fuck," Harry murmured.

Only Ron apparently heard him. "What happened?"

Harry inclined his head toward the Slytherin. "Remember him? He caught me staring."

"And now he's gesturing you to follow him out of the Hall…"

"This should be a fun conversation," Harry sighed. This was not something he wanted to deal with right now, but it was his own damn fault. "Want to come with?"

Ron shrugged as he rose from his seat. "Might as well. I'm done eating anyway."

"Where are you two going?" Lavender asked.

"We'll be right back, have to talk to somebody," Harry easily replied. The vague answer was apparently enough for Lavender since she went right back to talking with Fay and another girl whose name Harry had not caught. She likely presumed he'd tell her later. She was correct in assuming as much.

Harry and Ron followed after the nameless Slytherin as he led them by a solid 30 feet. There were a fair number of students in the Great Hall and nearby corridors, but not so many that the two friends couldn't still keep track of their quarry. They caught up to him when he decided to take a seat on a ledge without an accompanying window that overlooked one of the various courtyards of the great castle.

"Shit, he looks pretty pissed," Ron whispered.
Harry had to agree with that assessment. The Slytherin in question had his back propped up against a pillar with one knee pulled up to his chest, but the casual position did nothing to mitigate his hard gaze and clenched jaw, and especially not the wand he surreptitiously held in his grasp. Unsurprisingly to anyone that knew him, Harry lit up a cigarette as they approached.

"Hey man," Harry tried to seize the initiative once they were within conversational earshot, "my bad for staring, alright? It was pretty damn rude, I admit."

"Why would I give a fuck about that?" The still nameless Slytherin retorted, his voice surprisingly low pitched - not to an abnormal degree by any means, just enough that Harry thought it didn't suit his build. The anger was still present though. "It's not like you're the only one that was staring."

"Then why single me out?" Harry said around a large puff of smoke.

"Because of that," the Slytherin pointed towards the smoke.

"You… want a cigarette?" Ron's incredulity mirrored Harry's own. He had been expecting to be told off for staring or some shit, not questioned about a habit that wasn't even unique to him.

Harry sat down on the ledge a few feet away from the already seated teen. "I'm at a loss, mate. What is it you want?"

"The name is Theodore Nott, but for Merlin's sake call me Nott."

Harry finally had a name to work with, even if it was informed to him with a large eyeroll as an accompaniment. "Okay, Nott then. Again though, what is it you want?"

Nott lazily pointed at Harry's cigarette. "I need some of those. Muggle ones, specifically, and I need you to get them for me."

Harry was rather accustomed to requests of that nature. Though the entrepreneurial spirit had never found its way into his body, he was always more than happy to send curious, would be customers to a friend or acquaintance. The request for cigarettes wasn't new, but Harry honestly didn't expect to be asked on his second day at Hogwarts.

"Okay, but why come to me?"

"And why do you want them?" Ron interjected, clearly bewildered by Nott's strange behavior as well.

Nott appeared to bite back a comment as he broke eye contact, looking down into the courtyard below. "All you need to know is that I'm following Drake's advice and cutting back on a certain habit…"

"Ahhh," Harry nodded his head in understanding, two fingers rising to place his burning cigarette between his lips before removing the carton from his pocket. Harry had never personally tried anything beyond the occasional psychedelic, but he'd known many friends who had. There was a consistent trend among those that tried to quit once a habit had formed: they depended on something else to help. Chain smoking seemed to be a particularly common alternative. "What are you trying to kick?" He asked, plopping himself down on the empty stone space adjacent to Nott. The cool seat providing a nice contrast to the warm, ambient sunlight that fell upon them.

Nott rolled his eyes and swung his legs off the ledge so his feet were dangling over nothing but air. Harry's opinion of the teen rose that much more. They were only on the fourth story, so it wasn't as if they were too high, but he'd seen others balk at less. "Why do you care?"

"Just curious," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders, he didn't particularly care what the other teen's battle against addiction looked like. Idle curiosity was simply his natural state.

Ron remained standing but leaned over onto the ledge, his hair lightly blowing in the wind as he craned his neck to look around. "I'm more interested in why you want the muggle variety specifically. Wouldn't expect that from a son of the Nott family of all people." Ron's voice had gained a certain edge near the end, one Harry wasn't used to hearing. Accusatory was the most apt descriptor he could come up with.

"You have a problem with my family, Weasley?" Nott responded in turn. The tension was almost palpable at that moment, but just before Harry could speak up to try and diffuse the situation with honeyed words, Nott started chuckling. "Join the fucking club."

Harry's quizzical expression was matched by Ron's own. The Slytherin's curls bounced in accordance with his body as his laughter slowly built. A nonexistent tear was wiped away, but Nott did not elaborate.

"Fucked up homelife, I take it?" Harry probed, extending the unlit cigarette he'd removed to the interested teen.

The hands that accepted the proffered smoke were not strangers to the drug filled cylinder. Practiced actions and deft spell-work allowed Nott to quickly get his dose of nicotine – though if it was his first time trying tobacco specifically, it would be the first exposure. "Look up my family name on your own time and use your brain, you'll figure it out." The words were spoken plainly, without inflection or emotion.

Repressing things a bit much there, aren't we, Nott? Harry mused, humming to acknowledge he'd heard Nott's statement. "I'll bring you a few packs of those tomorrow," Harry exhaled a cloud of smoke, relishing the way it was carried away on the breeze. "I'll send a letter to the guy getting them for me to include some extra when he sends me some in a few weeks. You will be paying me though."

Nott's head lolled to the side; his heavily lidded eyes, tired from god knows how many drugs, just barely finding Harry's own. "Works for me," he murmured, nodding off for a brief second before snapping back to alertness.

Harry was about to lurch forward to stop the guy from falling off the ledge but was fortunately spared the need as a well-manicured hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"I appreciate your assistance in this matter, Evans. Even a loathsome muggle habit is better than the hell Nott keeps exposing himself to."

The hand and voice belonged to a fellow first year with patrician features and a demeanor that demanded respect. The teen was the picture of elegance, that much was clear even to those who usually spurned such aesthetics. A slim cut, white shirt and gray waistcoat and slacks with an even skinnier green tie. Neat, perfectly coifed blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin rounded off the ensemble to create the visage of one Draco Malfoy.

"No sweat off my back if you're paying me," Harry responded, rotating his torso to address the newcomer. "You know my name, but I missed yours?"

Draco's lips turned upwards ever so slightly, as if he knew that Harry was full of shit. "My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. And it's true, almost everyone knows who you are by now, Evans. Being the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived was always bound to get people talking." Draco's eyes narrowed discerningly. "I would be willing to bet that you were well aware of that fact when you boarded the train."

Harry noticed Ron had gone rather quiet ever since Draco made his presence known. His fellow Gryffindor seemed lost in thought, staring at the newcomers with a blank expression coloring his freckled features. "I thought I might be a small topic of interest," Harry shrugged, taking another drag as he mimicked Nott's previous actions and swung his feet over the ledge.

"Small…" Draco repeated amusedly, seeing through Harry's thinly veiled minimization as he shook his head. "Regardless, I must say you appear to have taken to your newfound fame rather well. Certainly, with more tact than your brother at the very least."

"Or maybe I just relish in the attention?" Harry posited cheekily.

Draco chuckled as he pulled lightly on Nott's shoulder, urging him to stand up. Delirium and weariness working in concert had almost overtaken the curly haired Slytherin entirely. "Narcistic motives aside, you are capable of holding a conversation and not glowering at onlookers. That's more than I can say for your younger twin."

"He's young, he'll learn." Harry hoped he would, at least. Daniel had obviously had some sort of media coaching prior to the interview he did for the Daily Prophet, but it was painfully clear that he had never had to really deal with crowds of people staring at him and him alone. Harry hadn't either of course, but he wasn't exactly joking about enjoying the attention.

"Young and foolish are used as synonyms far too frequently for my tastes," Draco drawled, unimpressed with Harry's defense of his brother. Whatever had unfolded between Daniel and Draco on the train had left the Slytherin with an overwhelmingly negative impression of the wizarding world's savior. "Now if you'll excuse us, I have to ensure this one gets his rest. Wouldn't do to have him wondering about and speaking nonsense while… low on sleep, would it?"

Harry waved at the Slytherin duo's retreating forms. "I'll bring the packs tomorrow," he called after them. He waited until they had rounded the nearest bend before turning toward Ron, who hadn't budged from his leaning position against the smooth stone brick. "You got rather quiet."

"I was… I am, actually, thinking about what he said."

"In regards to…?" Harry questioned, a lilt entering his voice.

Ron rocked his head from side to side as he gathered his thoughts. "Nott mentioned his family, right?"

"Don't forget the part where he seemed to hate them," Harry added sagely, tapping the burnt ashes off the butt of his smoke, the wind carrying them away before they could hit the stone.

"Exactly! You don't know how significant that was, Harry." Ron had begun to pace behind him, his chin held in his right hand as seemed to be his habit whenever he was pondering. "The Nott Family is old, very old. Older than most you'll find."

"What's important about that beyond being a fun fact?"

"How to explain it…" Ron muttered uncertainly. "To all Noble Houses, especially the Ancient and Noble Houses, lineage is important because it's a sign of their status, doubly so if they're a pure-blood family. That name becomes interchangeable with that status."

Harry snorted derisively. "Medieval caste system is still alive and well, I see." He had been an opponent of hereditary titles and power long before he entered the magical world.

"That's what is so weird about what Nott said!"

"Hating your family is rare?" Harry asked dubiously. He wasn't a student of history but even then, he'd read his fair share of accounts of family members offing one another for increased status and position within said family.

"Of course not, but publicly hating them without finding yourself kicked out of the family is," Ron clarified, smirking as he finished making his point.

Harry had to concede that one. Expressing familial derision to essentially strangers while bearing a famous name was genuinely perplexing behavior. "Is he the heir?"

"Yeah, and I only know that because it was a big deal a year back when the previous heir tragically died. Was all over the papers as this huge, tragic affair. Suicide, apparently."

Suicide, huh? Harry mused. While intellectually aware of the reasons why someone might kill themselves, it was never an idea he'd been able to fully wrap his head around. Even when he considered that everyone's experiences were different from his own, his worst-case scenario still didn't end with him deciding life had nothing left to offer. "Tragic enough to make Nott want to drown himself in narcotics?" Harry asked. Access to magic or no, he had already come to realize that humans were the same regardless. From the virtues to the sins, even down to the reasons why one would turn towards substance abuse – magicals and muggles were the fucking same.

The consistent tapping of Ron's shoes meeting the floor didn't cease as he shrugged. "It's likely a fair bet, but honestly who could say?"

"It's an interesting topic, but not one I care to waste my time on, you know?" Harry rotated himself around, wand twirling betwixt his fingers. "I've got enough problems of my own without trying to solve the Nott family conspiracy."

"Like trying to navigate the school?" Ron teased.

"That is priority number one at this point in time, yes," Harry agreed easily, smiling in spite of himself as he jerked his thumb behind him. "The only thing I'm certain of is how we can get to that courtyard, but that involves a one-way trip, and my life isn't nearly bad enough for that to be a consideration."

Ron choked back laughter, seemingly torn between whether he was supposed to be amused or horrified at Harry's rather grim sense of humor given the topic they'd just left. "Bloody hell," he murmured, shaking his head amazedly.

"Anyway, back to the Great Hall or should we just keep walking?" Harry immediately answered his own question by walking in the opposite direction from which they came, stretching his arms wide as his cigarette rested on his lips.

Ron followed after without a word in edgewise, proving once more that great minds thought in similar ways. "Where we off to?"

"We'll be lost in five minutes. Wherever we end up is as good of a place as any other."

XXXXXXXXXX

Author's Note:

I'm not fond of a sizable portion of this chapter. It was written over the course of months, feels disjointed and purposeless, and filled with ideas that even for me were more random and less thought out than I had intended. Still, rather than edit it for a few months I just wanted to post something. Doesn't help that my Harry Potter muse has been on hiatus since like, February. It will come back of course, it always does. Regardless, I hope you all liked this chapter more than I did (not that I think it's complete shit - just not very good - it's a spectrum). See you when I post my next random update - hopefully it doesn't take me nigh on six months to do so. Cheers.

(I actually went back and edited the chapter anyway. I am my own worst critic and couldn't stomach leaving the things I didn't like in place. Still not my favorite chapter, but it's better than what it was.)