Chapter One

            Harry woke up and tried to remember why he felt so happy. Then it struck him – he was going back to the magical world today. Elation filled him, and he practically skipped down the stairs to breakfast.

            He was greeted by sour looks, and – was it? – fear. Petunia thrust a letter at him.

            "Here," she spat. "An – owl – dropped this on the table and left." Harry could see that the seal was still unbroken.

            He quickly remedied the fact, and was just as startled as the Dursleys when the letter jumped out of his hands and started speaking.

            "Harry!" it began.

            "Sirius?" Harry asked, hardly believing it. The Dursleys paled noticeably.

            "Harry, you'll never believe it. THEY FOUND WORMTAIL! The Ministry actually found the bloody traitor, and they questioned him under Veritaserum, and – oh, Harry – I'm free! I can't quite believe it myself, I'm actually free, and the Ministry's considering giving me the Order of Merlin, Class One, no less, and Fudge's been sacked, it'll be all over the Prophet by tomorrow, see if it isn't, because Wormtail also confessed to Voldemort's resurrection, and you're being hailed as a national hero in the Ministry for going through all that and actually coming out of it alive, I mean, bloody hell, Harry, you're something else, you actually duelled with Voldemort and survived… I'm impressed, James and Lily would've been proud of you, you know, Lils, especially and I'm sure you'll be glad to know that you don't have to live with the Dursleys anymore, you're coming to live with me, the Ministry's given me a Manor to rival the Malfoy Manor – well, maybe not the Malfoy Manor, but certainly Four Privet Drive, and it's going to be wonderful, Harry!"

            Harry blinked as the letter took some very deep breaths. "He said that all in one sentence?" he wondered absently.

            "Love, Sirius," the letter concluded. "Oh, and by the way, I'll be the one picking you up in the Ministry car, all right? See you at nine, then." The letter fluttered to the floor, and Harry stooped, picking it up. He glanced at the clock.

            "Eight fifty!" he exclaimed. He noted distantly that Dudley had his hands firmly over his massive bottom. He dashed up the stairs and dragged his trunk down. "I'll need the key to the closet to get the rest of my things, please," he said to Vernon Dursley politely. The huge man's eye twitched but he found the key and handed it over. Harry retrieved his wand and broom just as the doorbell rang.

            The Dursleys, as one, cringed as Harry opened the door eagerly. He was almost instantly bowled over by an enthusiastic black dog that absolutely covered his face in licks.

            "Gerroff me, Sirius!" Harry yelled, shoving the dog away as he laughed. The dog jumped off him, tail wagging, then abruptly changed into a man. Sirius Black offered Harry a hand up, ignoring Petunia's startled scream.

            Harry hugged Sirius, feeling the other man's happiness washing over him like a calm wave. "Love you," he whispered in Sirius' ear. He looked surprised, but his eyes softened an instant later. Harry smiled and picked up his things.

            "Well, bye then," he said tentatively to the Dursleys. Vernon looked like he might have apoplexy any instant, so Harry beat a hasty retreat out the door. He had to turn sideways to bring his trunk out, and was thus treated to the sight of a large, fat pig squealing in the spot where Dudley had once been, Petunia's prone figure on the floor, Vernon's purple face, and Sirius' wand disappearing under his robes.

            Chuckling happily, Harry climbed into the waiting limousine, and was promptly struck over the head.

~*~

            Harry blinked tiredly, forcing his eyes open. He grimaced as pain flared out in his forehead. It wasn't his scar, it was just the usual ache of having a very heavy, blunt object come crashing down on top of it. A fuzzy black and beige shape hovered over him, and Harry absently wondered where his glasses were.

            "Are you all right?" came an unfamiliar voice. "That dratted boy wasn't supposed to hit you over the head, just get you here." There was a note of exasperation in his voice. "Honestly… it really was a job getting out of here, finding him and persuading him to take up the job. In any case… are you or are you not awake?"

            "Hhnn." Harry's throat didn't seem to want to work, and he coughed.

            "Oh, good. Can't believe you need glasses, totally destroys your eyes. What's the point of you having my beautiful eyes, if they're hidden behind glasses all the time?" There was a murmured incantation of some sort – Harry's eyes tingled – and the person abruptly came into view.

            "Better?" he asked, helping Harry sit up. Harry nodded blearily, trying to work out what had happened. He didn't appear to have been kidnapped by Voldemort. The man supporting him had jet-black hair and vibrant, emerald eyes, much like him. He was dressed in a flowing, green robe, embroidered with silver.

            "Good." The man kept talking, and Harry let himself be lulled by the comforting voice. Perhaps that was why he was still speaking, even though it was about inane things like how Helga was being a total prat, or Godric had tried to turn his hair red and gold, or…

            Harry blinked and focused.

            "WHAT?!"

            Salazar Slytherin regarded the boy in his arms and sighed softly.

~*~

            "So you're basically telling me none of you died," Harry said blankly. The three he could see nodded, and Harry could feel Salazar's assent. The older man was still holding on to him, and although Harry quite liked being cuddled like that – Merlin knew the Dursleys had never bothered – it disturbed him slightly that he couldn't see Salazar's face, so like his own. To remedy that, he twisted slightly, letting his head rest on Salazar's shoulder. Thankfully, he did not object. Indeed, he shifted so that Harry could rest comfortably against him.

            Neither Harry nor Salazar understood why Helga and Rowena had such idiotic grins on their faces.

            "Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, as wizards go," Godric continued. "But he simply isn't strong enough. We brought you here, where we are."

            "And where is here?"

            "Sort of a limbo between death and life," Rowena replied. "Time passes differently here. We control it, actually. In other words, one year in your world can be one second here, or a century, whatever we want."

            "And we want to train you," Salazar said. Harry could feel his throat vibrating as he spoke, and unconsciously nuzzled closer.

            Neither Harry nor Salazar understood why Helga and Rowena squealed in delight.

            "We have no intention of letting you die at Voldemort's hands," Godric continued, casting an irate look at the two women. He was perfectly aware of why they had squealed, but that didn't mean he approved of the two grown women acting like children. "Therefore, if you agree to it, we'll train you here for as long as it takes. Amongst other things, we'll be concentrating on animagus transformations, the dark arts, potions, magical and muggle fighting, wandless magic, healing, charms, history and forest magic."

            "Forest magic?" Harry inquired. "What's that?"

            "Basically, getting plants and animals to do what you want, no arguments. You'll be able to communicate with any animal or plant alive. There's no one in your time who can do it, but Helga's a pro at it. She'll teach you, along with healing. Rowena will teach you charms and history, Godric will teach you animagus transformations, wandless magic and duelling, and I'll teach you the dark arts, defence and potions," Salazar said. "There are probably other things you'll want to learn as well. We'll decide who's most fit to teach you those as we go along. We'll also take you to visit the leaders of certain magical creatures, and ask them to bestow their magic on you. You'll get dragon, unicorn, ealsa, vampiric, and… I don't know, basilisk magic. We'll get as many as we can."

            "But only if you agree," Godric reiterated. "If you do, we'll keep you here as long as necessary. That could be a decade or a century, but you won't age.  We'll return you to the same second you were taken, after your training is complete."

            "If you refuse, we'll wipe your mind of this encounter and return you safely to the limousine at the same second you were taken, none the worse for this little encounter," Rowena said. "You will continue with your fifth year, with no recollection of having met any of us… even Salazar." She said the last bit quite pointedly, and Harry realized he did not want that at all.

            "Wish I'd just gone into Slytherin like the Hat wanted," he muttered into Salazar's neck. Godric rolled his eyes, and Salazar smirked at him.

            "The Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin because, although you are descended from all of us, Sal's traits were the ones most visible in you," Godric explained, slightly huffily. "You even look like him, and inherited his Parselmouth ability."

            Harry sat up straight. "Inherited? But Professor Dumbledore said that it was my scar's connection with Voldemort that made me able to speak Parseltongue! You mean he lied to me?"

            "No, no," Helga said. "He truly believes that is the case, but he is mistaken. The fact that you are descended from all of us – Godric and me on your father's side, Rowena and Salazar on your mother's side – means that you are one of the most powerful wizards ever. That is why Voldemort wanted to kill you when you were a baby, before you could possibly pose a threat to him."

            Harry was silent for a while, trying to digest the new information. "Do you suppose Voldemort will attack any time soon?"

            "Not for a few months yet," Salazar said confidently. "He'll need to build up his strengths first, amass his forces. Decide who're loyal to him and who traitors to his cause are. Knowing him, he'll want to take time to torture the traitors slowly. Then he'll need to win over other races like the giants. It'll definitely take him time, but it isn't enough time for you to train normally, with your school-mates. Besides, the training we'll give you is far beyond what even the teachers in your school know."

            "We'll only do this if you're completely agreeable to it, Harry," Rowena said gently. Harry blinked at her, puzzled.

            "Oh, no!" he laughed. "I've already decided to stay. I was just trying to figure out if there was anything else I wanted to learn, and I thought Japanese would be a nice start."

            The four founders of Hogwarts looked at each other and smiled.

~*~

            "Keep your guard up!"

            "That's right, now just ask the vines to cover the hole…"

            "Not too bad. Again."

            "A unicorn? I'm impressed…"

            "…a dragon? Okay, now I'm really impressed."

            "Was that the seventh or eighth time you've blown up your potion?"

            "How was your ride on the deer?"

            "No, no. Grip it by the blade and flick your wrist forward. Again."

            "You've made progress."

            "Yes, Japanese can be complicated. Do your work now."

            "Wow. You actually managed to make a potion without blowing it up."

            "Can you please turn the pig back into a table now?"

            "You invented a spell?"

            "Was that you who turned Godric into a pig?"

            "What is it with you and pigs?"

            "Can you translate this and write it in… katakana, maybe?"

            "Private joke? I won't ask. Concentrate on the trees, please."

            "That was some fast brewing."

            "What was that charm?"

            "You're inventing a lot of spells. That's really good… congratulations."

            "Smart, loyal, brave, cunning… we can add creative to the list."

            "Green is not your colour, Godric."

            "The boy is a bloody Slytherin."

            "…you haven't blown up a potion in so long… I didn't really miss it."

~*~

            Sirius climbed into the limousine a few seconds after Harry, laughing his head off. He had shut the door and the limousine had pulled away before he turned to look at Harry. His jaw dropped.

            "Whoa, Harry. Have you been working out?" he asked in surprise. Harry shrugged. Though he still wore the same clothes as he had when he had been taken away, his body had definitely gained muscle. Still slender, Harry was now possessed of incredible speed and agility. He hadn't obviously bulked up, but he did look much more fit than before. Harry silently thanked Salazar and Godric.

            "Yeah, a bit," he said shyly. "Does it show?"

            "Does it show?" Sirius repeated. "I would say so! We need to get you some new things to wear, muggle clothes and wizard robes." He leant forward. "Hey, driver, stop somewhere downtown, all right? We need to do a spot of shopping."

            "Wonder what the muggles will say when they see you?" Harry wondered out loud. "The whole wizarding world knows you're innocent now, but do the muggles?"

            Sirius nodded eagerly. "It was published in the papers yesterday. We won't run into any trouble. I've even got a new wand, see?" He showed Harry an elegant Ollivanders creation, ebony and dragon heartstring, apparently. Harry gazed at it appreciatively, his hand sneaking over to his own wand. It had been ages since he'd used it, and as he touched it, he felt a comforting warmth spread through him. A tiny red spark shot out of the tip as the wand welcomed him back, but thankfully, Sirius didn't notice.

            Harry settled back and relaxed for the remainder of the journey.

~*~

            "Okay, Harry," Sirius said, as they stood in the middle of the hustle and bustle of downtown London. "Where do you want to go first?"

            "Sirius," Harry said slowly. "Would you hate me if I said I was gay?"

            Sirius blinked. "Er… okay, didn't see that coming. No, Harry, I wouldn't. Why should I?"

            "Okay, good. I'm gay. Can we get me some nice, sexy clothes, for once?" Harry pleaded.

            Sirius had to fight down a laugh. "Sure, Harry. And you'll look terrific in them, with how you look now."

            "Thanks." Harry wasn't really listening. He grabbed Sirius' hand and pulled him towards a shop that had caught his eye.

            "Med-" Harry pulled Sirius inside before he could even read the shop's name. Once inside, Sirius blinked in surprise. "Whoa, Harry. You want clothes like these?"

            Browsing through the racks of clothes, Harry didn't even look up. "Yes. Been wanting them forever."

            "O-kay. Everyone is going to know you're gay," Sirius laughed.

            "Hey, it's one way of making a statement." Harry pulled out a pair of black pants and held it against himself. "How does this look?"

            "You're free to try it on; the changing rooms are at the back," said a salesman, coming over. His black hair was streaked with gold, and he wore a flimsy gauze top with black, leather pants.

            "And I don't suppose you're available, either, are you?" he continued, gazing at Harry's toned body appreciatively.

            "Not seeing anyone, not planning on seeing anyone, sorry," Harry replied, grinning disarmingly. Sirius calmed down and mentally switched out of protective godfather mode. "I'll try these on, thanks. And do you have any more tops like the one you have?"

            "Sure, this way. My name's Devlin, by the way. I don't think this colour would be the best for you… you could try the green; it'd probably look nicer than blue. Set off your eyes. Oh, and this!" Devlin pulled out a satiny silver top. With a high neck, there were buttons down the shirt, but they clearly weren't meant to be used. A pair of arm-sheathes, gauzy lavender, came with them, ending in a ring to be worn on the third finger of each hand.

            "If you wore these with those new pants that just came in, if I can find them…" Devlin's voice trailed off as he dug through the clothes. "All of our clothes here are one-of-a-kind, you won't get them anywhere else. And some types of clothes, we only sell one, and then destroy the design, so you'll be the only person in the world with it. Like that shirt, and these pants!" Triumphantly, he held up a pair of what appeared to be normal leather pants. As Harry took them, however, he realized that there were slits running up the sides, almost to the top. The two flaps were held together with string. Harry fell in love with them at first sight.

            "I hope they're my size!" he exclaimed, dashing into the changing room with them. Sirius blinked bemusedly.

            Harry refused to show Sirius any of his purchases, and the older man didn't even know if Harry had bought the pants he had loved – or the silver shirt. Devlin aided Harry in keeping away Sirius as he tried on the clothes, and later, bought them. Harry kept the bags firmly away from his godfather, who constantly tried to sneak peeks at the clothes. Altogether, they spent over two hours in the same shop, and Sirius was nearly falling asleep with nothing to do.

            They stopped at a café for a break. Sipping coffee, Harry stared blankly at the make-up shop opposite them. Seeming to come back to himself, he asked Sirius, "Can I get whatever I want, Sirius?"

            "Sure, Harry," Sirius said. He grinned. "Just consider this whole trip as thirteen years worth of birthday presents. You can spend till I'm broke."

            "You do still have money, don't you?" Harry asked, concerned. His clothes had cost Sirius slightly over three hundred dollars. Though Harry felt the clothes were actually under-priced, for the quality and designs he was getting, he didn't want to send Sirius into the poor-house.

            "Don't worry, Harry. I'm rich, remember? The Ministry reimbursed me fully, and gave me a whole lot more to boot, as compensation for spending so much bloody time in Azkaban when I was innocent."

            Harry grinned back, satisfied.

            Their next stop was, to Sirius' amazement, the make-up shop across from the café. Harry chatted to a salesgirl there, pretending that he was getting a birthday present for his twin sister. She tested out various eye-shadows and lipsticks on him, finally setting out various combinations. Harry ran a critical eye over them.

            "You've got really pale, milky skin, and your twin does too, right?" asked the salesgirl. At Harry's nod, she continued, "Okay, so assuming your sister has pretty much the same skin tone as you, silvery eye-shadow should look good on her, along with this lip-gloss. It's really faint and subtle, not too outrageous. The Goth look would look amazing on you, but I don't know if she can carry it off. If she can, we've got this maroon lipstick here, and black eye-liner. Mascara, too. Um, you'd need mascara anyway. I'd suggest you don't get the liquid type, it's hard to apply."

            Harry tapped the silver eye-shadow. "You sure this would look good on her? She's just slightly tanned."

            "Well, it ought to be alright as long as it isn't too far from your skin tone," said the salesgirl. Harry gazed at the array of make-up articles. There was also moisturizer, face powder and other things Sirius didn't recognize.

            "All right," Harry said slowly. He picked out a large bottle of moisturizer, face powder, and blush. "Do you have a brush for that?" he asked. Nodding, the salesgirl produced a few, and Harry selected one of the bigger ones. "The silver eye-shadow, and two eye-liner pencils, I think. Can I have the eye-shadow in pencil and powder? Thanks. The lip-gloss, the maroon lipstick, the mascara – two of those. And do you have a make-up bag to put it all in?" He picked out a few more items, including some sort of coloured hair gel, as the salesgirl found the bag. Then they left, Sirius' wallet just slightly lighter.

            They stopped at some other shops, getting Harry some other clothes. These were tamer than the ones at the first shop, and Harry let Sirius see them. Some tight blue jeans that showed off his toned legs, a collared black shirt with three-quarter sleeves… Conservative but chic at the same time. Sirius shook his head in amazement. Harry was showing remarkable taste.

            Finally, they entered the Leaky Cauldron. Both of them kept their heads down and hurried through to the alley before someone recognized them. Their numerous bags, which were once an encumbrance, now aided in hiding their faces from the crowd. Sirius tapped the wall with his wand, and the duo escaped thankfully into Diagon Alley.

            They stopped by Madam Malkin's robe shop and got Harry some new wizarding robes. Although Harry did get a couple of standard school robes, he also insisted on getting some new ones. These robes were open in front and worn over muggle clothing. There was a little flap underneath it where a wand holster could be inserted. It wasn't floor-length like Harry's school robes, but rather, only came to mid-calf. Harry was planning on getting some good dragon-hide boots to go with them, so that the rest of his legs would be protected. Into both, he was going to weave magical spells so that no one could hit him from behind – the spells would dissipate. He needed a hood on the robe which could be folded out of the way, so that it wouldn't interfere when he was trying to fight. Harry wasn't being paranoid – he knew he would have to fight soon.

Trying to describe them to Madam Malkin didn't work. In the end, he had to draw them out to show her what he meant. Sirius gaped at the design as well, but Madam Malkin, thankfully, said she'd have them ready the next day. The two paid for the clothes that were ready, and left.

"I wish I could get a tattoo," Harry said absently, as they strolled back to the inn. Sirius stopped dead in the street and gawped at Harry.

"What?"

"I'm serious, Sirius, no pun intended. I'd like to get a tattoo on my back." Sirius looked like he was considering it.

"Well, I'm not one of those hide-bound old people who believe that tattoos are evil. Sure, we can get you one – after we dump these things off!" He held up his arms, displaying all six bags he was carrying. Harry laughed. He himself was carrying five bags. They hurried back to the inn, joking with each other.

~*~

"Well, he's doing well, at any rate."

Salazar turned away from the scrying glass with a sigh. "How many times do I have to tell the three of you not to interrupt me when I'm scrying?"

"Can we help it?" Rowena asked. "We care about Harry too. How is he?"

"Fine, as far as I can see," Salazar said. "He just got a tattoo." A faint smile curved his lips. "A silver snake with green eyes, encircling a gold lion with red eyes. Covered his whole back." He stood up, stretching wearily.

Strong arms encircled him and Salazar allowed himself to lean into Godric's embrace. Rowena and Helga smiled and let themselves out of the room, giving the two men the privacy they desired.

"I know he was your soul-son," Godric said softly. "I miss him too."

Salazar buried his face in Godric's neck. "I love him," he whispered, lips brushing against the tanned skin of Godric's neck. "I just wish… I could see him."

"After the battle, love. We can bring him here after he defeats Voldemort. You can see him again."

Salazar raised dull, red-rimmed eyes to Godric's. "I'm being terribly selfish, aren't I?" he asked. A tired smile cracked his face as Godric started to deny anything of the sort. "Of course I am," he said, silencing Godric. "I love you too, Gryff." He leaned forward slightly, covering the minuscule distance between their faces, and kissed Godric lightly, sweetly.

Godric closed his eyes and answered.

~*~

The next morning, Harry got up early and left the room without waking Sirius up. He managed to sneak out of the inn, and found an empty field where he could practice safely. He set up a charm to repel anyone who came near, and an invisibility charm so no one could see him. Harry had invented the last charm himself, and found it much more useful than an Invisibility Cloak, which, after all, could slip off at a most inopportune moment.

Harry practiced with his sword, staff, quarter-staff, throwing knives and other weapons, all of which had been shrunk and placed safely with him. Each weapon merited a full hour's attention, after which he created illusions coming at him, and attacked them. He kept this up for a further hour, and finished off with a couple of rounds around the field. If there had been a pool nearby, he would have gone for a swim to cool off. As it was, he headed back to the inn, slipping back in just as Sirius was waking up – testimony to just how early he'd gotten up. He got to the bathroom just before Sirius and showered quickly.

After breakfast, they swung by Madam Malkin's and collected Harry's modified robes. He was pleased to see the material was strong, and absorbed the spell that he cast on it easily. After that, they bought the dragon-hide boots that Harry had wanted, and his school supplies.

As they ate ice-cream in Florean Fortesque's Ice-Cream Parlour, they heard a shout from behind them. Harry turned in his seat and saw the Weasleys struggling through the crowd towards them. Ron was waving happily, and Hermione was right beside him as well. Harry waved them over, and Sirius grinned.

"Ah, Black," Arthur Weasley panted, dropping his things onto an empty chair. "Nice to see you. It's absolutely mad out there." He wiped his forehead.

Ginny, upon seeing Harry, had gone bright red. Harry was wearing his "tame" muggle clothes, and no make-up. Sirius idly wondered how she would react if she saw him in that get-up.

"Thought you said Ginny didn't have a crush on me anymore," Harry said to Hermione quietly, amused. She laughed.

"Well, with you looking the way you do… what did you do with yourself, Harry?"

"Yeah, mate," Ron chimed in. "You're looking a lot better than when we last saw you at the platform. Been keeping busy?"

"You could say that!" Harry laughed. "I've been training in my room a bit, to get in better shape. Sirius here threatened to turn the Dursleys into rats, so I actually got enough to eat and not as many chores. Altogether, it was one of the best summers I've had with the Dursleys."

"That's good to hear," Hermione said, smiling. She linked hands with Ron. "Harry, Ron and I have something to tell you," she said, glancing at Ron. Ron looked at her as well, and Harry smiled.

"It's about time," he interrupted, a wide grin breaking out on his face. "Who asked who out?"

"I asked her out," Ron confessed. "After she told me she and Viktor had decided a long-distance relationship was just too hard, and broken it off."

"Are you sure you don't mind, Harry?" Hermione asked anxiously. "I mean, there's bound to be times when Ron and I will want to-"

"Of course, you'll need time to yourselves sometimes," Harry said, pretending Hermione hadn't said anything. "And I really don't mind. Give me time to study, won't it?" He grinned at the shocked expression on Ron's face.

"Harry!" the red-head exclaimed loudly. "Did you say you wanted to study?" His voice carried over to the rest of the Weasleys, and Sirius, and they turned to watch. Sirius felt that after the number of shocks he'd had, this really didn't come as a surprise anymore. The Weasleys, on the other hand, were absolutely shocked. Fred and George came hurrying over, and Sirius followed. This could prove to be amusing.

"Harry!" the twins said at the same moment, in the same, scandalized tone.

"How could you ever say something so sacrilegious," Fred started.

"As the fact that you like to study?" George continued.

"Anyone would think that you're turning-"

"Into another Hermione!"

Hermione glared at the twins.

With a perfectly straight face, Harry said, "But Fred, George, I'm terrific at Potions now. Don't you want to see Snape's face when he realizes that I can answer all his questions perfectly?"

Fred's and George's faces lit up, but fell a moment later. "Wouldn't work," Fred said gloomily. "If he couldn't get you with fifth-year questions, he'd just ask you sixth and seventh-year stuff." They sighed in unison.

"Ever heard of the Rulde Potion?" Harry asked them casually. Mr. Weasley did a double take. Fred, George, and even Hermione, just looked puzzled.

"It's a potion that only the people in the Department of Mysteries are supposed to know how to make," Harry informed them. "So do I."

Sirius wondered absently, why he felt so shocked.

~*~

Harry first saw Malfoy when he was alone, with no one nearby to call for help. It wasn't that he needed help fighting Malfoy off. It was that the blonde was unconscious, lying in a dank alley. He'd apparently been left for dead. Harry probed out with his magic, and sensed a spell lain on the boy, draining his life away.

Shocked, Harry rushed over, gently lifting the weak boy in his arms. Malfoy opened his eyes. Through dull and unfocused eyes, Malfoy was still able to recognize Harry, and began to struggle.

"Lie still, you idiot," Harry told him, annoyed. "You're just going to make your injuries worse."

"Trap-" Malfoy gasped out.

"I figured that," Harry murmured softly. There were three of them, all garbed in black. Harry ignored them, reaching out with his magic to dispel the charm on Malfoy. The blonde gasped sharply as the spell was broken, and his life energy came rushing back.

"Potter-"

"No time for pleasantries, Malfoy," Harry said, pushing the boy behind him. He reached into his modified robes and pulled out his sword, enlarging it at the same time. The Death Eaters, as well as Malfoy, were surprised to see Harry use the rapier, instead of his wand.

The one on his right was the first to react, sending the Imperius Curse at him. Harry figured that Voldemort wanted to kill him personally, and wouldn't allow his underlings to do so instead. He assumed attacking stance, and swiped through the spell. The magical blade instantly absorbed the spell, glowing briefly.

"Necocus," Harry hissed. Black tendrils snaked out from the blade, speeding towards the three men. The tendrils wrapped around two of them, forming a cage of sorts. They tightened, and wherever they touched skin, the skin sizzled. The two men barely had time to open their mouths to scream before they were vaporized.

The third man was looking stunned.

Time to make that literal. Harry turned a Stunning Spell on the man, and then levitated him off the ground. He then turned to Malfoy, catching his arm as the smaller man wobbled.

"Careful," he said softly. "Give yourself a few minutes, the vertigo will pass."

"How did you do that?" Malfoy whispered, trying to focus on Harry's wavering face.

"I trained," Harry said, giving him a slightly twisted smile. "A lot."

Malfoy pulled his arm away, trying to stand on his own. Harry raised an eyebrow and let him, figuring he'd learn his lesson soon enough. Sure enough, Malfoy pitched forward with a small moan. Harry stepped forward just in time to catch him. The blonde's head was nestled comfortably against Harry's neck, reminiscent of the position Rowena and Helga had left two certain men in. Harry wrapped his arm around Malfoy securely, giving him time to adjust.

"I told you to be careful," he murmured, breath stirring pale hair. He felt Malfoy's breath hitch, and moved the boy back slowly. He held both of Malfoy's hands, gazing into his silver eyes. "All right now?"

Malfoy nodded slowly, but didn't move away, captured as he was by Harry's emerald gaze. The ebon-haired boy smiled softly, running a hand up Malfoy's arm. He caught the other boy's chin, tilted it up slightly, moved in –

 - it was beautiful, roses crushed between their lips, licking, tasting, hands moving, a moan bursting from both their lungs, and the sweetness of his lips, his lips –

 - they drew apart, both gasping, not so much for air as in surprise. Harry's right hand was entangled in Draco's hair, while his other had progressed lower. Draco's arms were wrapped firmly around Harry's waist, and he didn't really seem to mind the fact that his supposed worst enemy had just kissed him. Indeed, from the slightly glazed look in his eyes, he might have liked that same fact a great deal.

The floating, stunned Death Eater passed out.

~*~

"So they figured, since I refused to become a Death Eater like them, they could use me as bait. They put some sort of spell on me and left me outside the inn you were staying. I don't know what spell it was, but I just felt so weak, like I couldn't move. They kept me alive until you passed by, and then flashed that light to catch your attention. Then you saw me, and, like they guessed, you wouldn't leave even your enemy in that state-"

"You aren't," Harry interrupted, squeezing Draco's hand. The Death Eater was floating above their heads, an invisibility charm on him. Draco was momentarily taken aback. Then he smiled, and his entire face transformed. Harry felt his heart jolt against his ribcage.

"Thank you, Harry," Draco murmured quietly. "That means a lot to me." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "In any case, they had intended to capture you somehow and present you to the Dark Lord. And then you showed up with that sword and that amazing spell…" Draco's voice trailed off and he gave Harry a calculating look. "Where did you learn all that? Get the sword?"

Harry sighed. "I can't tell you, Draco," he said apologetically. At Draco's hurt look, Harry hurried on. "I can't tell anyone, not even Ron and Hermione. Not even you. I swore not to let anyone know, Draco. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, then," Draco said, looking disappointed. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the inn, Sirius and the Weasleys and Hermione are there. Don't tell anyone the spells I used to save you, all right?"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks, and Harry was pulled up short as well, since they were both holding hands. "What?" the blonde asked in horror. "They'll attack first, ask questions later, when it comes to a Malfoy – which I happen to be!"

Harry giggled.

"Potter, did you just giggle?" Draco asked incredulously. Harry pouted at being called by his last name and Draco sighed.

"You are definitely the girl in this relationship," he muttered.

Harry leant in close to whisper in his ear. "I'll dress up specially for you – I made Sirius buy me a lot of stuff today – if you come with me to the Weasleys."

Draco stared at him. "You fight dirty."

~*~

"Harry? What are you doing with him?!"

Draco sneered at Ron. "Nothing you'd expect us to be doing. Ow! Potter!" The last bit was added because Harry had kicked him in the shin. Smiling sweetly, Harry muttered, "Shut up. You owe me." Scowling, Draco rubbed his shin, but obediently shut up. Ron gaped.

"Wow, Harry, the git actually listened to you," he said admiringly. Harry frowned.

"Ronald Weasley," he said clearly, the rest of the Weasleys, as well as the rest of the inn, listening avidly. "I will thank you not to call my boyfriend a git."

There was a startled hush, in which Harry cancelled the invisibility spell. Pointing at the floating Death Eater, Harry continued, "Draco was set out as bait for me. Apparently, the Death Eaters decided that since he refused to join them, that would be his best use. I killed two Death Eaters and stunned the third – this one. I thought you might like to question him, Mr. Weasley." Harry smiled. "Now, would you excuse us? Draco and I ought to freshen up a bit."

"Not to mention, change into something else," Draco muttered. Harry grinned.

~*~

Ron shushed the others as they came up. Eagerly, they pressed around, listening to the muted voices from the room inside.

"You actually bought these, Harry?" Draco asked incredulously. He held up the pants Devlin had first picked out, against himself. "I love these. The slits are so beautiful."

"If you think that's nice, check out this shirt," Harry replied, grinning. He cast a sharp glance towards the door, and leant towards Draco, whispering. "The Weasleys, Sirius and Hermione are outside, listening. Put on a show, then." Draco gave him a thumbs-up and winked devilishly.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a Slytherin, Harry," Draco joked. "You've got so many green and silver things."

"Well, I look good in them. I don't tan," Harry pouted. "I'm like a vampire."

Draco laughed, letting the shirt drop from between his fingers. The listeners were shocked at the pure sound. "And what's that?" he asked curiously, indicating the make-up bag.

"What does it look like to you?" Harry asked, picking it up. The case snapped open with a distinctive click. "Make-up, of course. Wish I'd thought to get some for you… but isn't this lip-gloss pretty?"

"Put some on, then. Surprise me."

Harry cocked his head to one side. "Tell you what, I'll dress up completely. Out of the room."

"Make sure it's nice!" Draco said, heading for the door. He opened it in time to see something red disappear down the stairs. "I'm waiting out here, mind!"

"Go downstairs!" Harry's voice was muffled. "Give me about fifteen minutes."

"Fine. Hurry!"

Left alone, Harry locked the door, then shrugged off his clothes. Nude, he stood silently for a moment, trying to decide what to wear. He finally decided on the grey-silver top, with the same black pants he had loved so much. He slid on the arm sheathes, delighting in the sensual pleasure of the gauze rubbing against his skin. He adjusted the pants, unbuttoning the top button.

He summoned the mirror across the room to him and began to do up his hair. As he streaked the blue hair gel through it, he wondered absently why no one had noticed he'd had his eyesight corrected. He tossed the locks into attractive disarray, then wiped the gel off his hands.

"Okay, and now for the face." Grinning, Harry applied some moisturizer, then dusted on face powder. Fortunately, he had perfect, porcelain skin, so there was really no need for concealer. He picked up his blush and added just a tiny hint of it to his cheeks, and applied a clear, strawberry-flavoured lip gloss. One eye at a time, he rolled on mascara, emphasized them with eye-liner, and finally, applied the sparkling silver eye-shadow.

Harry looked at his nails critically, and finally settled on clear nail polish, which he dried instantly with a quick spell. Slipping into ankle-length boots, he checked himself once over, and finally opened the door. Harry took a deep breath, placed an invisibility charm on himself, and went down the stairs, searching out Draco.

When he found him, he wasn't doing anything Harry might have expected. He was sitting with the Weasleys, and though glares were being shared all around, no one seemed severely injured. Harry bent close to Draco's ear and whispered, "Hey, babe."

The Weasleys wondered why Malfoy had suddenly jumped, but chalked it up to being a Malfoy.

"Come on, then, I want you to see me first, not them," Harry said softly. Smirking, Draco got up and let the invisible pressure on his shoulders guide him to another booth.

When Harry shimmered into view, Draco was sure his throat had just closed up. His eyes darted swiftly to the unbuttoned top button of the pants. "Erk."

"Why, thank you, Draco," Harry said smugly. "Very nice of you to say so."

"Eep."

"We've covered that," Harry told him, leaning in for a kiss. Draco was more than happy to oblige, tasting the faint strawberry flavour of Harry's lips. He pulled Harry onto his lap and ran an experimental tongue over Harry's lips, slightly surprised when the other boy willingly opened his mouth, allowing him in. Tongues danced in perfect synchrony, and Draco gasped into the kiss. Harry broke it first, lapping down Draco's cheek and licking the hollow of his neck. The blonde shuddered, tightening his hold in Harry unconsciously.

Ron watched Draco disgustedly. "What's that stupid git doing?" he asked furiously. "Hanging out with a whore like that, does Harry even know?"

Sirius looked over at the "whore," and nearly choked.

Harry kissed Draco's neck one last time, and sighed regretfully. "Ron's having a fit over there, he doesn't know this is me, and Sirius is also having a fit over there, he knows this is me. Think we should go over?"

Draco grinned, licking his lips. "Strawberry?"

Harry laughed. "It was either that or passion fruit, or grape, and I'm not overly fond of those two." He hopped off Draco, straightening his clothes. The two boys walked over to the others slowly.

"But I like passion fruit," Draco was saying, as they arrived. "It's got a nice tang to it. Strawberry's common."

"But it's sweet, and tastes a lot better when artificially made, like the lip-gloss is," Harry countered. "Hello, Ron. I'm a whore, am I?"

Ron gaped at Harry, recognizing him at close range. Draco slid an arm around Harry's waist, pulling him closer. "Admit it, Weasley," he said, smirking. "We look good together." An identical smirk crossed Harry's face, and Ron's lips twisted. He scowled at Draco and refused to answer. Draco sniggered.

"Found out anything from the Death Eater, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked politely, sliding into the last seat in the booth. Before Draco could complain about having to stand, Harry pulled him down onto his lap, both of them ignoring Ron's, Fred's and George's fake gagging. Hermione had a slightly confused expression on her face, but Harry had a feeling she would be the first to accept them.

"Um, not much. The Ministry insisted on bringing him back for questioning. A new Minister has to be elected, you know." Mr. Weasley rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Lucius Malfoy is a hot favourite."

"I'd strongly suggest you do not elect him," Draco offered coolly. "The man's an ardent Death Eater. He was the one who bound me up and delivered me to the Dark Lord."

A surprised silence ensued.

~*~

That night, Harry sat alone on the window ledge. One leg swung idly as he wondered what Salazar and Godric were up to. "Miss you," he whispered into the still, night air. His heart felt heavy, and a long sigh escaped his lips. "Sal…"

Harry shook his head violently, trying to accept that he would never see any of the founders again. Not even Salazar…

They had interesting backgrounds. According to an age-old prophecy, Salazar and Rowena were to have a child together, and Godric was to have a child with someone else, as was Helga. Out of a sense of duty, they all did so, but Rowena and Helga, after delivering their children, had no more. They were quite content remaining as spinsters. Their children had had children, and eventually, James Potter and Lily Evans had been born. Their child, Harry, had been the first child with all four founders' blood running in his veins.

As for Salazar and Godric – well, everyone knew that the two were deeply in love with each other. The two men had become the parents Harry had never known, and he missed them fiercely. He missed Rowena and Helga too, his surrogate mothers, but not with the deep intensity that he felt for the two men.

"What are you up to now, I wonder?" he asked no one in particular. "Gryff? Ugh… I miss you all."

Harry sighed again. He was descended from all four of them, so in a peculiar sense, they really were his parents. He idly conjured up an illusion of them, silently thanking Godric for placing the charm on him that allowed him to use magic outside of school – even though he was under-aged. Harry took the miniature Salazar's hand, looking at him for a while. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes, but he banished them angrily.

Cancelling the illusion, he hopped off the ledge and went to bed.

~*~

Elsewhere, Salazar allowed himself to cry the tears that Harry refused to let fall.

~*~

Harry woke up late the next morning. He was surprised at himself. Usually, he got up at around three or four in the morning. He didn't require much sleep. They had asked the vampires to bestow their magic on him, and they had acquiesced. Part of a vampire's magic is that they do not require much rest, and are fully capable of functioning normally without sleep, for more than a month. They do not need much food either, so neither did Harry. This would explain why he was quite surprised when he woke up at ten, and found everyone else up as well.

Cursing, he sped down the stairs, knowing that he didn't have much time for his work-out. Hastily telling Sirius he'd be right back, he fled to the field, casting the spells even as he ran. Once inside, he practiced hard, but could only give himself half-an-hour per weapon. Disappointed, he shrank his things again and headed back to the inn, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

The others seemed surprised to see him sweating so hard, but thankfully, they didn't ask questions. Harry showered and dressed – a vibrant red shirt and deep blue jeans, over which he wore his modified robes and calf-length dragon-hide boots. He tucked his various weapons and phials of potions away securely, hiding them under the robes, grabbed his trunk and broom, and headed downstairs.

They made an odd procession. Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley and Sirius led the way, followed by Fred and George, who were bemoaning the fact that this would be their last year at Hogwarts. Then came Ron and Ginny and Hermione, and finally, Harry and Draco. The latter two didn't talk, but they didn't need to. Harry's hand held Draco's securely, and though the blonde appeared aloof, he welcomed the comfort readily.

Harry's and Draco's relationship was a strange one. Harry's bold announcement had cemented it between them in a way that neither had expected. Normally the proud one, Draco had never once thought that he would be happy being labelled someone else's boyfriend. He ran an appreciative eye down Harry. And never one as beautiful as Harry had turned out to be.

"What happened to your glasses, Harry?" he asked quietly, the first thing either had said since they set out.

Harry cast him a side-long glance. "I had my eyes magically corrected," he said. "And before you ask, yes, it's possible. It's a very old spell, though. I came across it in an ancient book. Had to do it myself." The duo fell silent again, the slight pressure of palm against palm enough for both.

Ahead, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were discussing Harry and Draco. "What do you suppose Harry's thinking?" Ron asked furiously. "Going out with a guy I can understand. There are a lot of gay wizards. Hell, Bill's gay and Charlie's bi. But Malfoy?"

"I'm sure Harry has his reasons, Ron," Hermione said soothingly. "Besides, he saved Malfoy, remember? Malfoy owes him wizard's debt."

"That's true," Ginny said thoughtfully. "Did you see him last night? He was wearing make-up!"

"Eye-shadow, lip-gloss…" Hermione shook her head. "The press is going to have a field day with this. Thank goodness Rita Skeeter's safely out of the picture!"

"Is she?" Ginny asked curiously. "How do you know?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and burst out laughing.

~*~

Harry stroked Hedwig's feathers gently. She hooted sleepily, perched on his arm. Ron and Hermione had gone to get some food, and there was no one else in the carriage.

Hedwig, he said. The owl started.

Harry-wizard? You speak universal language?

Now I do, Harry said, smiling at her. Hedwig ruffled her feathers in pride. My Harry-wizard! she exclaimed happily. You are gifted!

Thank you, Hedwig, Harry replied, blushing slightly at her effusive praise. Tell me, have you ever wished for a companion?

Yes, Harry-wizard, many times, she replied, bobbing her head. It need not be another night-seer. Perhaps a forest-glider? You can speak to them in their language, can you not?

Yes, Harry said. Forest-glider – she meant a snake, of course. Are you sure you would not mind a forest-glider?

No, no, she said. I would welcome its company. Would you get a female?

Why don't you pick her out yourself, Hedwig? Harry suggested. If you tell her the Speaker wished to see her, she would surely come peacefully.

I will, I will, Hedwig said excitedly. She hooted out loud. As soon as we get to the castle, I will.

Wait till the magical ones have roosted, Harry cautioned. He could hear the others approaching. And do not reveal that I can speak the universal language to anyone.

I will not, Hedwig heard them too, and pretended to shuffle on his arm. As the others came in, all they saw was Hedwig resettling herself on Harry's arm. Harry himself was slumped in his seat, apparently asleep.

Draco came in just after Ron and Hermione. Ron tried to keep his face from twisting when he saw Malfoy. He had discussed it with Hermione, and both had decided that Harry had good enough taste, and they would try and tolerate Malfoy for his sake.

Of course, the fact that Malfoy kept insulting them didn't help them any.

This time, however, Draco completely ignored them, going over to Harry. "Wake up, would you?" he asked impatiently. "Pansy's trying to hit on me. I do not want that pug-faced bitch anywhere near me!" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Hedwig took off in a flurry of feathers, and Harry was suddenly standing. "Maybe you should get a tattoo," he said, amused. "One that reads, 'Property of Harry James Potter.' Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Only if you got one too," Draco replied sourly.

"Already have," Harry said off-handedly. "Want to see it?"

"Sure," Draco said, curious. Harry slipped off his robe, and unbuttoned his shirt halfway. He shrugged it off his shoulders, revealing the top of the large lion on his back, a silver snake encircling it. There was tiny, flowing script beside the snake that read, "DMP," while the lion was labelled "HPM." Draco blushed slightly and moved so that Hermione and Ron couldn't read the small words.

Draco Malfoy-Potter. He was surprised how much he liked it, actually.

Harry re-buttoned his shirt and turned to Draco, grinning wickedly. "Like it?"

"Very much so, Mr. Potter-Malfoy," Draco said dryly. Still, he was careful enough to say the last bit so that the other two couldn't hear. Harry's grin grew wider.

"Nice to hear, Mr. Malfoy-" He was interrupted by Draco lunging for him, pressing his lips against his. Ron gagged.

"C'mon, Herm," he said, tugging on her arm. "I'm still not used to this. Let's leave the lovebirds alone."

When Ron and Hermione had left, Harry drew back from Draco slightly. "One would almost think you didn't want it," he remarked off-handedly, his arm still holding Draco close. His hip ground against Draco's, eliciting a small gasp. With a moan, Draco tilted his head back, catching Harry's mouth in a not-so-innocent kiss.

Which was when Pansy found them.

Her shriek attracted quite a bit of attraction, and a couple of teachers came rushing in. When Harry saw Professor McGonagall there, he realized that with the rise of Voldemort, the teachers were probably travelling on the train with the students – just in case.

In case Pansy screams upon seeing her precious Draco kiss a boy, Harry thought amusedly.

McGonagall and – was it? – Snape were primed to counter a Death Eater attack. They most certainly were not prepared for the shocking sight of Harry Potter kissing Draco Malfoy, one hand up his shirt.

"Oh, my," Professor McGonagall said weakly, clutching at the side of the door. Snape just looked stunned.

"You know, we seem to be stunning a lot of people lately," Harry remarked sarcastically, reluctantly letting go of Draco. The blonde leaned against Harry's chest.

"The Death Eater you saved me from. The Weasels. Black. The mud-" Harry kicked Draco's shin. "-Granger! Pansy. And now these two."

"Nothing to see here, Professors," Harry said sweetly, ushering them away. "Parkinson just over-reacted. Really, dear," he said severely, taking her arm. He pushed her towards the door. "Don't you want the best for Draco? Well, you certainly aren't. I mean, have you looked in a mirror lately? Oh, right, you wouldn't have – it would have shattered once you tried to look at yourself, no? It's alright, dear. I'll try and enchant one to like horrendously ugly people. Now, if you would excuse us-"

Her indignant squawk was cut short as Harry firmly closed the carriage door. He returned to Draco, who was laughing so hard he was doubled over, clutching his sides.

"Now where were we?" Harry asked, eyes gleaming.

~*~

By the time they got down, it was all over the school that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were seeing each other. Unconcerned about all the stares – both boys had had their share of fame, after all – they boarded a carriage with Ron, Hermione, Seamus and Dean. The last two stared openly, first at Harry, then at Draco, as if they couldn't understand what Harry saw in Draco. Harry leaned over and said as much to Draco, eliciting an amused smile.

"Remember Pansy's face?" Draco said off-handedly. Harry snickered. "Something to remember."

"I can't believe you actually said that about her looks," Draco said casually. The two were putting on quite the display, and Harry was loving every second of it. An innocent expression on his face, he said, "What? I only offered to enchant the mirror for her. I thought I was being nice."

"Sure you were – to me," Draco replied. "I thought my sides would split from laughing so much. I swear, Harry, you will make a good Slytherin."

Seamus opened his mouth to say something, but Harry beat him to it. "I know," he said. "The Sorting Hat actually wanted to put me in Slytherin first, but I hated you at the time, and it agreed not to. Said that Slytherin would help me along greatly, though."

"Why am I not surprised?" Draco asked rhetorically. Harry answered anyway.

"Because you heard what I told the bitch on the train."

"Right. That had to be it, of course."

"What else?" Harry asked. "The way I dressed up for you?"

"No, the way you undressed for me."

Ron choked.

"On the train, you mean?"

Seamus and Dean choked, while Hermione tried not to burst out laughing.

"When did you get that tattoo, anyway?" Draco asked curiously.

Ron recovered.

"The day Sirius came to pick me up. He agreed to let me get a tattoo, but I don't think he realized I wanted such a large one. Or what I was planning to write on it. I still haven't let him see the words."

Draco ran a finger down Harry's back. "I'll say it's large. I like the snake."

"Of course you'd like yourself. Egotist."

"Moi?" Draco affected hurt. "How could you think such a thing?"

"Quite easily. Draco-"

"Mm?"

Harry smiled. "Nandemonai… aishiteru."

Draco raised an eyebrow quizzically, but let it drop.

~*~

"You like Enrique Iglesias?" Draco asked sceptically.

"Some of his songs," Harry replied.

"How did they get on the topic of Muggle singers, anyway?" Ron muttered under his breath.

"Shush, Ron, this is interesting," Seamus said.

"Such as?"

"Bailamos, for one. Catchy tune, I worked out a dance routine to it. Very dramatic and all that."

"Really, now. Whom with?"

"A friend," Harry said evasively. "A girl, so relax."

"I'll relax once you tell me her name."

"Rave."

"Never heard of her."

"She's a muggle – of course you wouldn't have heard of her." Maybe that was stretching the truth a little, but it was in a good cause. "I knew her in school, before coming to Hogwarts."

"Well…"

"Would I cheat on you?"

"I don't know, would you?"

"No. Baka…"

"And what does that mean?"

"Nandemonai…"

"Stop talking in whatever you're talking in, Potter!" Harry grinned.

"Alright, alright, relax, Drake."

"They're onto nicknames!" Dean cried out enthusiastically. Harry and Draco both ignored him.

"So what other songs or groups do you like?"

"Hmm… Chantal Kreviazuk's 'Leaving on a Jet Plane,' Rufus Wainwright, Coldplay, Jimmy Eats World, Sixpence None the Richer, Michelle Branch, Nicole Kidman, Delta Goodrem, just about anything by Utada Hikaru… especially Another Chance," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Haven't heard of the last singer. Sing a bit of that song, would you?"

"It's in another language, you probably wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Draco challenged.

Harry hummed the first part of it, trying to get the tune straight in his head. Then he launched into the second verse.

"Kimi no namida no shindou

Kuuki wo tsutawatte

Ude wo kasuka ni fureta shunkan…"

He stopped and looked at Draco. "Understood any of that?"

Draco's lips twisted. "No. Idiot."

"Baka."

"Asshole."

"Oiishiri."

"Oh, shut up."

Harry laughed.

~*~

The Sorting was, thankfully, over. Harry was looking forward to his food. Even if he was endowed with a vampire's abilities, he saw no reason to starve himself. Sadly, the food was delayed as the Headmaster rose to say a few words.

"As many of you may know," he began gravely. "Last year, Voldemort rose again."

Harry's stomach twisted as he remembered Cedric's death. He glanced over at the Ravenclaw table and saw that Cho Chang was in tears. He sighed and searched out Draco's comforting face.

Draco, at the Slytherin table, frowned as he saw the hurt expression on Harry's face. He looked at the Ravenclaw table, and Draco followed his gaze, seeing the Chang girl in tears. He gazed back at Harry, in time for Harry to meet his eyes and hold them. Draco put on the best loving look he could do, and mouthed the words, "See you afterwards?"

Harry smiled slightly and nodded, ducking his head so no one could see the sheen of tears in his own eyes. Dumbledore had finished explaining about the events of last year's Tri-Wizard Tournament, and a lot of people were staring at Harry now. He deliberately kept his head down, forcing the tears away.

Sal, he thought. Oh, how I wish you were here. What would you think of Draco, Sal?

"We feel it good to promote inter-house relationships at this trying time. You may invite anyone of another house into your house common rooms and dormitories. We have found it necessary to tighten security on Hogwarts. While Hogsmeade weekends will not be cancelled, they will be reduced to one every month. You are expected to remain in largely populated areas at all times. Students are not to wander out of their beds at night." As he said this, Dumbledore looked straight at Harry, but Harry wasn't looking at him. Dumbledore shook his head slightly and continued.

"The inter-house Quidditch matches will be cancelled."

At this, there was instant uproar. Even Harry's head had snapped up in shock, and he stared at Dumbledore angrily.

"I know none of you will be very happy about this," Dumbledore said calmly. "But rest assured that we have all your best interests at heart. Quidditch matches are simply too open, too vulnerable to attack from Voldemort. Although he did not dare attack Hogwarts when he was last powerful, we feel that he might attempt to do so now, just to prove that he is as strong as before."

"He is," Harry muttered before he could stop himself. "For Merlin's sake, I saw the bastard." Fortunately, no one heard him.

"Now then, don't let the house elves' marvellous work go to waste," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in Hermione's direction. "Tuck in!" And with that, the food magically appeared on everyone's plates.

The only problem was, Harry wasn't too hungry anymore.

~*~

Harry stopped by the statue and checked that there was no one there. No wait – his senses went into hyper-drive as he heard someone around the corner.

"Potter?" Draco called out. Harry relaxed.

"Here," he said quietly. Draco rounded the corner and saw Harry leaning against the statue. He came up to Harry, obviously worried but trying not to show it.

"Why'd you leave the feast?" he asked.

"I wasn't hungry. You, on the other hand, haven't eaten since breakfast. You ought to go back and get something to eat."

"I had a couple of Pumpkin Pasties on the train," Draco said dismissively. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes briefly. "Remember how I told you that I couldn't explain how I defeated those Death Eaters?" He opened his eyes again, a veiled sadness in them. "Same thing."

Draco studied Harry's face. He looked so sad… he stepped forward and kissed Harry's cheek lightly. "Do you by any chance know the Gryffindor password?" Harry nodded mutely.

"Then go get some rest," Draco said softly, caressing Harry's cheek. "You look drained – not physically, emotionally."

Harry hesitated only a fraction of a second. "Will you come back with me?"

"Sure?" Draco asked.

"Dumbledore said it was okay, didn't he?" Harry said, grinning. Draco smiled back, pleased to see the haunted look in Harry's eyes disappearing.

"That he did. Let's go, then."

~*~

If anyone had had any doubts about Harry's and Draco's relationship, the sight of them curled up together on the couch in the Gryffindor common room would have dispelled them. It seemed like everyone from all houses came up to sneak a peek at them. For Harry, not really asleep but just enjoying the comfort of Draco's arms, it was extremely annoying. Draco shifted under him.

"Irritating, aren't they?" he asked loudly and clearly, though his eyes remained closed.

"Beyond belief," Harry agreed. He listened to Draco's heart thumping beneath his chest, an oddly comforting sound. "Do you know of any spell to set anyone who comes near us on fire?"

"Yes, but so do you."

"I don't have my wand, though. You do."

"Alright, I'll do it then." Draco opened his eyes at the same time Harry did. Both looked around at the empty common room and gave each other high fives. Laughing, Harry snuggled back into Draco's chest, allowing himself to really fall asleep.

~*~

Harry was down at the Quidditch Pitch at three the next morning. It was an unholy hour to be up, but Harry felt wide-awake. He called his vampiric vision into play and stepped easily out into the centre of the field.

Dream-hopping was something not many could do. Harry wasn't particularly adept at it, but he knew enough to be able to accept Salazar when the man's mind came probing at him. Sal had brought Gryff along for the ride as well, and the three spent ages happily reminiscing in Harry's dream. Sal had told Harry that he didn't have to bother hiding himself. Even if people knew of his abilities – with weaponry, speaking to animals, and so on - it wouldn't make a whit of difference. Voldemort wasn't likely to underestimate him after what had happened the last time they had met.

And so, Harry didn't bother putting up any shields to keep people away.

Harry practiced for ages, making up for the time he had lost the previous day. His sword was a veritable blur, and there was a distinctive whirring noise as he swung it around. He went through all the motions Salazar had taught him, repeating them over and over for an hour-and-a-half. Then he began on his staffs, using the quarter staff and full-length staff at the same time to fend off an imaginary opponent.

After that, he picked a random tree far away as his target, and started aiming things at it. Not just knives, but throwing stars and arrows as well. His bow was made of fine, strong wood, imbued with magic. It was inlaid with dragon bone as well, making it nearly impossible to destroy it. Each arrow shaft was made of dragon bone, filed down to size, and the fletching was made of the best goose feathers Harry had been able to find.

By the time he had finished this, it was already seven-thirty. Harry realized that breakfast would be served soon, and finished his stretches quickly. Then he collected his weapons, healed the poor, battered tree, and headed back into the castle.

In the dormitory, the others were just getting up. Harry cast an amused glance at their bleary faces as he grabbed his things and headed off for a shower. Still in the bathroom, he styled his hair with the blue gel, and dabbed on moisturizer. As he screwed the cap back onto the bottle, he smiled faintly. Now he knew why girls liked it so much. His skin felt smooth and fresh. He dabbed on a little face powder and slipped on a green shirt and black, leather pants. He wore his normal school robes over them, but left them untied. His usual dragon-hide boots completed the ensemble. Harry headed out of the bathroom to hurry the other four along.

The fact that Seamus and Dean were trying to scrape their jaws off the ground served to lighten Harry's mood a great deal.

When they went down for breakfast, much of the school population had the same reaction. Draco watched Harry with a possessive eye, barely remembering to eat his own food. The gesture wasn't lost on Harry, who grinned ruefully. His boyfriend was turning out to be quite jealous.

The owl post was something Harry had been looking forward to. Hedwig had yesterday flown out to find her companion, and had yet to return. As the first few owls flew in, he looked up, searching for a flash of white.

And there she was. Hedwig soared over Harry's head, dropping a pure white snake in his lap. Ginny yelled in fright, and the people around him scurried away. Hedwig returned to proudly perch on his head.

Hullo, Harry said in Parseltongue.

Are you the Speaker? the snake inquired. The night-seer, Hedwig, told me so much about you! I shall be most pleased to be her companion, if you so wish it, Speaker.

That would be wonderful. Do you have a name?

I never saw the need for one, Speaker. Feel free to call me what you wish.

Sylvan, then. You are a creature of the woods, and it is only fitting.

It is a beautiful name, Speaker. But why do these humans cringe away from me?

They fear that you might bite them, Sylvan, Harry said, amused. "Relax, it's not like she's going to bite you or anything," he assured them. "Apparently, Hedwig wants her around, or at least, that's what she says. Why an owl likes a snake, I don't know, but…"

Around him, people sighed, relieved. Draco frowned from the Slytherin table. What the hell was Harry up to?

Harry continued to talk to the snake softly throughout the meal, holding it up occasionally so that it could see the people he pointed out. Draco, for one. Pansy was another one. He told Sylvan to be nice to Draco, but to feel free to bite Pansy. The jealousy was apparent in his very tone, and Sylvan laughed as best a snake could.

Their first lesson, as luck would have it, was Care of Magical Creatures, with the Slytherins. Harry gave Sylvan to Hedwig, to take up to his room, and left with Ron and Hermione. In the corridor, he caught up with Draco, and the foursome walked out together.

Harry was privately amazed that no one had commented on his morning exercise. Wasn't there anyone who had heard or seen him? Apparently not, as none of the teachers even seemed to think anything was out of place.

Care of Magical Creatures was to prove interesting.

For one thing, Hagrid wasn't teaching them. It was instead, to Harry's amazement, his old babysitter, Arabella Figg.

He completely forgot that they were supposed to be in class and burst out, "Mrs. Figg?!" The entire class, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, turned to look at him, and he blushed.

Mrs. Figg's eyes twinkled, not unlike Dumbledore's. "Yes, Harry, it's me," she laughed. "Sorry I couldn't tell you who I was before, I was undercover after all."

"You didn't bring your cats here, did you?" Harry asked apprehensively.

"But of course!" she exclaimed. "They're our lesson for today. They're magical, Harry, though you wouldn't have known that, of course." She whipped the cloth of a large cage, revealing four fat cats. "Class, meet Tibbles, Snowy-"

"Mr. Paws, and Tufty," Harry finished. The class looked at him again, but Harry clearly recognized the cats. One stood and yowled insolently at him. Harry's face twisted. He knew what the cat had said, but couldn't reply.

Not yet, at least.

"Precisely," Mrs. Figg – or rather, Professor Figg said, smiling. "Harry's well acquainted with them, but the rest of you aren't."

"I'm too well acquainted with them," Harry muttered. "I only tripped over them all the time."

"They have some limited magical abilities, that make them able to understand what humans are saying," Professor Figg continued, ignoring Harry. "So I strongly suggest no one insult them. I'll let them out and you can play with them for the rest of the lesson." So saying, she opened the cage, letting the cats out.

Snowy headed straight over to Harry, grinning an insolent little cat grin. "Oh, do stay away, Snowy," he told it irritably. "I'm not exactly fond of you."

~Too bad, you're stuck with me,~ the cat informed him smugly. Of course, it had no idea Harry could understand it.

"I don't see why I have to be stuck with you," Harry said, glaring. "Go away."

~No,~ the cat said, still not realizing Harry had replied to it. It could have been an off-hand comment, of course.

"Fine, stay, see if I give a damn," Harry said in a huff. The cat stared at him, and the other three suddenly rushed over.

"Now it's all four of you against me?" Harry asked sourly.

~Can you understand us?~ Snowy asked incredulously.

"Well, of course I can. Took you long enough," Harry said. Mrs. Figg, as well as the rest of the class, was watching with proceedings with great interest. ~Can't you just go away?~ Harry asked the cats petulantly. To the rest of the class, he was mewing like a cat. ~That's all I really want. Yes, I'm a Speaker. The only Speaker around. Now go bother someone else. Before I transform into a wolf.~

With scared yowls, the cats raced off, jumping into other people's laps. Harry grinned smugly and relaxed.

"Care to explain?" Draco asked, sitting on the grass beside him. The others probably thought they were being unobtrusive, but as they petted the cats, they were definitely listening to the two boys. Harry grinned cockily.

"Nothing special. I can talk to animals, is all," he said nonchalantly. "I'm a regular Doctor Doolittle."

"A what?" Draco asked, bewildered.

"Muggle thing, forget it," Harry said briefly. "And I don't know how I can talk to animals either, so don't ask."

Draco sighed. "You're supposed to be a Gryffindor, Potter," he said mournfully. "When did you become so complicated?"

"Since the time the Sorting Hat tried to put me in Slytherin," Harry remarked.

"Right, forgot about that." There were surprised gasps from the students who didn't know. Tufty mewed.

"I heard that, furball," Harry said. "You have a filthy mouth."

Tufty mewed again.

"I rest my case. Professor Figg, where did Tufty learn such language?"

~*~

In Harry's opinion, nothing was better than a good work-out.

Well, except maybe Draco.

But in any case, he was the first in line to sign up when the new Duelling Club was announced. He just hoped their teacher wasn't another Lockhart.

As it turned out, he wasn't. It was Professor Lupin.

Most of the students were quite glad to see him return, and even Draco conceded that he would be, "a darn sight better than that incompetent idiot, Lockhart."

Their first duelling lesson was outside. As Lupin explained, the club wasn't just about wizarding duelling. They would also learn about various spells that would complement what they learnt in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry was relatively confident he would know most of them. He certainly knew the first spell, a burning spell.

"The incantation is 'Pyros,'" Lupin informed them. "Just point your wand at the bushes over there and say it out loud, with as much strength as you can muster. You probably won't get it straight away, but after a few tries, a small fire ought to start. I'll put it out, and the next person can try. Now line up!"

Harry deliberately decided to go last. Ron had somehow ended up in front, and needed to cast the spell seven times before a tiny flame appeared on a single leaf. Lupin extinguished it, told Ron he had actually done quite well, and summoned the next person up.

Hermione only needed five tries, but her flame was no larger than Ron's. Pansy, Harry was pleased to see, couldn't get the spell right, no matter how many times she tried. After her twenty-eighth try, Lupin dismissed her and told the next person to try. Draco cast the spell eight times, but managed to conjure up a bigger flame than anyone else thus far had done.

Then it was Harry's turn.

"Sure that water spell's ready, Professor?" Harry asked, grinning.

"What makes you so sure you'll be able to work the spell?" Lupin challenged. The wide grin belied his feelings. "Nice new look, by the way."

"Close your mouth, Pyros, Snuffles will get jealous," Harry laughed. Lupin almost didn't realize that Harry had cast the burning spell, but the sight of the whole bush aflame certainly caught his attention. His jaw fell, but he quickly extinguished it with a jet of water from his wand. Great clouds of smoke rose from the sizzling bush.

"Nice job, Harry," Lupin complimented. Then a sudden blush rose on his cheeks, as the bell rang. "Class dismissed," he announced. "And what do you mean, Snuffles will be jealous?" he hissed at Harry. The black-haired boy smiled and shrugged.

Lupin's face became well and truly red.

~*~

"Death Eater attacks on Hogsmeade," Hermione read. She put the Daily Prophet down. "Oh, this is terrible! Ten people killed, it says." She scanned through the rest of the paper, as horrified gasps rose from other tables.

"Harry," Hermione said, her face pale. "Maybe you'd better read this." Harry took the paper from her, wondering what the matter was. It became almost instantly apparent.

Death Eater Attacks on Hogsmeade!

HOGSMEADE – Yesterday, at eight in the evening, seven men dressed as Death Eaters launched an attack on all-wizarding village, Hogsmeade, killing ten. Popular bar, the Three Broomsticks, was the epicentre of the attack.

Five people in the bar at the time of the attack were placed under the Imperius Curse, and made to kill one person each. After that, they were turned on each other, till all five lay dead. No one came forward to help these people or their victims. Although the fear of the common people is understandable, one cannot help but wonder where the Ministry's forces were at the time of the attack.

"It's very unfortunate, and we send our condolences to the families of the bereaved," said Mr. Arthur Weasley, an official with the Ministry of Magic. "We deeply regret not being able to send help in time, but without a Minister for Magic, things have been getting very hectic."

One wonders if Mr. Weasley truly meant to let that slip. Perhaps the populace should demand that they be allowed to elect a new Minister.

It is also rumoured that the apparent Death Eaters made a demand. According to confidential sources, they said that Hogsmeade would be spared from a worse attack, if Mr. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was delivered to them. Although we are loathe to sacrifice the life of the very child who destroyed You-Know-Who years ago, we must ask ourselves – is the life of one boy worth the lives of the many who live in Hogsmeade?

There was more, but Harry didn't bother to read it. He put the paper down, his face set. He was furious, and he knew he'd better work it off before he hurt someone.

"I'm going out to cool off for a bit," he said in clipped tones. He stood up abruptly and left the Hall, whispers breaking out behind him. Ron, Hermione and Draco immediately raced after him.

~*~

"I'm not going to sacrifice myself to Voldemort, so relax," Harry said, not allowing the others to say anything, or breaking his stride. "I just need to work off a bit of anger before I hurt someone." He had reached the pitch by now, and motioned to the others to stay at the edge of it. He strode into the centre, summoning his sword in one hand, creating another sword in his other.

He leapt and swung and parried invisible strokes for what seemed like hours, slowly feeling the knot of anger in him unravel. Immersed in the intricate dance he was weaving, he nonetheless noticed his three friends' shocked expressions.

Sal, Harry cried out mentally. I wish you were here, Sal. I need your help, your expertise, your guidance, now more than ever. His strokes grew more feverish. Please, what do I do, Sal? I need you! Gryff, Sal, Rave, Hel… please… A single tear rolled down Harry's cheek, splashing onto the front of his robes. He slowed down and finally stopped, blades hanging limply at his side. I miss you.

~*~

Salazar's heart ached as he saw the forlorn expression on Harry's face. "Oh, Harry," he whispered, touching the image of Harry in the water. He felt Godric's hands wrap around him comfortingly. "I miss you too, soul-son," he said sadly. The water rippled out from where he had touched Harry's face, and the image disappeared.

Silent tears rolled down Salazar's face, and Godric felt his own heart ache.

~*~

Harry made the sword that he had created disappear, and shrank the other one, returning it to under his robes. Before the others could come near him, he enlarged his arrows and bow, assuming the proper stance. The bow-string twanged as the arrow sped towards the target. Even as the first arrow struck, a second was already in the air and a third was being strung. Harry loosed five arrows in total.

All five struck centre, closely bunched together.

Harry shrank the bow, and summoned his throwing stars. He flung five of them, creating a five-pointed star around the arrows. Flipping his throwing knives so that he held them by the blade, he tossed them lightly, yet with so much force that they struck the wood and sank in hilt-deep. They had landed right beside the arrows.

Harry walked over to the tree he had used as a target and pulled out the stars, knives and arrows. Although his quiver constantly replenished itself magically, he didn't like to waste arrows, and retrieved them whenever he had the chance. Striking mere wood would not have damaged them in any way, but he was careful to check them over. On one arrow, the fletching had bent, and he discarded it. The others were returned to the quiver, all the weapons were shrunk, and he tucked them under his clothes again.

He returned to his awe-struck friends.

"Well, I feel better now," he said, smiling. "Voldemort will have quite a shock, don't you think?"

"That was bloody brilliant, Harry!" Ron burst out. Harry sank into the grass beside them and leaned against Draco.

"Are you as good with magic as you were with those weapons?" Draco asked him, shifting so that he could massage Harry's shoulders. Harry stiffened at first, but then relaxed into the massage. "I invented that spell you saw me use in the alley," he told Draco. The latter gasped in surprise.

"Then yes, the Dark Lord does have a surprise in store for him." Ignoring the fact that Harry was sweaty all over, Draco hugged him fiercely. "Place a Crucio on him for me, just make him suffer. My so-called father did the Crucio on me so many times over summer…" his voice trailed off.

Ron found himself actually sympathizing with Draco, and thinking that he mightn't be such a bad guy after all. Harry turned and enfolded Draco in his arms, comforting the shaking blonde. Hermione got up then, went over to them, and hugged both of them. Draco was visibly startled.

"I used to wonder what Harry saw in you," she said clearly. "Now I know." She smiled at him. "Good luck to both of you, then."

Ron moved up next to her. "And you know what? I actually understand what Herm's talking about, for once." He grinned wryly. "And for what it's worth, I think you two do look good together."

That was enough to startle a half-choked laugh out of Draco. As he held Draco against him, Harry gave Ron and Hermione a look of pure gratitude.

"Thanks," he said simply. Hermione smiled at him as Draco attempted to compose himself.

"Oh, hell," he muttered, giving up on the hopeless task of salvaging whatever remaining dignity he might have had. "Thank you, I suppose."

Ron's grin grew even wider. "I never thought I'd live to see the day when a Malfoy was nice to a Weasley," he said.

"Shut it, Weasel," Malfoy scowled. Harry sighed and lay back on the grass.

"I'm gonna go to sleep for a bit," he said, yawning. "Wake me up when you two are done fighting." With that, he gave in to the insistent knocking on his mind.

"Coming…" he muttered as he fell asleep.

No one heard him.

~*~

"Sal!" Harry screamed, flinging himself into the older man's arms. Salazar's dream form picked Harry up, hugging him fiercely. Sliding back to his feet, Harry rushed over to Godric. "Gryff, it is so good to see you two again. How are Rave and Hel?"

"Doing fine," Godric said, dropping a light kiss on Harry's brow. Harry grinned and returned the favour, bestowing a bone-shattering hug on Godric as well. The Gryffindor gasped for air and Harry released him.

"Er, sorry…" he said sheepishly.

"It's alright," Godric said, wincing slightly. The next instant, though, his face was practically nothing but grin. Harry wrapped his arms around Godric again, turning slightly so that Salazar could catch them both in a three-way hug.

"So? Spill," Godric demanded, once they had let go of each other. "How did they take it?"

"Draco, especially," Salazar added slyly. Harry blushed.

"Not too bad, actually," he said wryly. "I think I've just shocked them in so many ways, they've become sort of immune. But then, I've changed a lot in a century."

"You're not quite at a century old yet," Godric said, eyes twinkling. "Give it another few months." Harry just grinned at him.

"Well, almost a century, then," he amended. "More than enough time to confirm my sexuality, learn everything Dumbledore knows and then some, and spend loads of quality time with the two of you." Both older men were touched, though neither showed it outwardly.

"And blow up every potion you tried to make," Salazar added.

"And turn my skin and hair silver and green," Godric interjected.

"Although that looked quite nice," Salazar smirked.

"Hey!"

"And over-all just drive us insane," Salazar finished. Harry smirked. "Nice to know I'm so needed."

"Idiot."

"Oh, and I've been driving Draco up the wall, talking in Japanese every so often," Harry said, sniggering. "I knew learning other languages would come in handy!"

"I doubt that was what Rave intended you to use her lessons for," Godric said dryly.

"Did she say I couldn't?" Harry asked innocently. Godric made a face at him. Harry looked at Salazar, and the two burst out laughing simultaneously. Godric simply shook his head in despair.

"Slytherins, the both of you," he muttered. "Just both bloody Slytherins."

"I'm shocked, Gryff," Harry said innocently. "You know I'm a Gryffindor."

"Argh."

"Anyway, don't shock them too much, Harry," Salazar said, becoming serious. "Who knows how they could react. You already know Ron gets jealous easily. With your looks, he has even more reason to envy you."

"And we all know you don't want to lose his friendship," Godric continued. "So just be careful of how you act around him. Don't show off too much."

"I'll be careful," Harry said, frowning. He'd never thought that Ron would mind too much. He knew Hermione wouldn't care, either way – he was still her friend, Harry, to her. Ron, on the other hand, had practically been weaned on stories of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Jealousy was only to be expected from him.

"Do that," Salazar urged. "Be careful, Harry. With all the stories about you that must have reached Voldemort by now, it's possible he'll just throw my calculations out the window, and just decide to attack now."

Harry was silent, but the anger in his vibrant emerald eyes was answer enough.

"Don't reveal the rest of your abilities to anyone," Godric finished. "We'll just hope Voldemort underestimates you instead of overestimating you."

"Now, go back," Salazar said gently. "Your friends are calling you."

"Will I see you soon?" Harry asked timidly.

"As soon as we've gotten our strength back from dream-hopping like this," Godric assured him. "Love you, Harry."

"I love you, Harry," Salazar said softly.

"Harry…"

Harry…

"Harry!"

With a start, Harry came awake, cursing fluently in Japanese. "I have got to stop doing that," he reflected sourly.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Ah, yes, fine. Just a weird dream," Harry assured her. "No, nothing to do with Voldemort," he added hastily, seeing the looks on Hermione's and Ron's faces. "Just… someone else." The thoughtful look on his face brooked no argument, and the others fell silent.

~*~

It was most certainly nothing anyone had expected. Tied up, Harry lay at Voldemort's feet, breathing as shallowly as he could. A high-pitched laugh rang out, echoing through the silent Hall. Most of the students were petrified. After all, they had just seen Voldemort enter Hogwarts brazenly, attack Dumbledore, and capture Harry Potter.

"Not expecting this, were we?" Voldemort asked, deeply amused. His face hidden from view, Harry grimaced. Voldemort was so bloody full of himself…

"And now," Voldemort continued, "now we see the great Harry Potter. Lying at my feet, defeated by me! I will kill him, and the wizarding world shall know my power once more." The last was hissed, and his red eyes almost seemed to glow malevolently as he looked at Harry.

From his face-down position, Harry sighed and rolled over, looking up at Voldemort insolently.

"You talk too much, you know that?" he asked conversationally.

 "Fine words, for the defeated enemy," Voldemort spat.

"How exactly am I the 'defeated' one, again?" Harry asked sceptically.

"You lie at my feet, bound," Voldemort said through clenched teeth.

Harry suddenly leapt to his feet, rolling away from Voldemort. He was completely free. Voldemort's eerie red eyes widened in shock.

"So I'm not bound and I'm not at your feet," Harry said. "Am I still defeated?

"No," Voldemort said slowly. "But you will be." He smiled. "I still have your wand, after all. Avada Kedavra!"

The blast of green light headed straight towards Harry, who remained perfectly still. The light lit up his face, garish shadows forming in unlikely places. His whole countenance looked green.

The light faded away slowly, and Harry came into view again, unhurt.

With a smile on his face, Harry repeated the words that Voldemort had, just seconds ago, said. Somehow, the wand, even though still in Voldemort's hand, reacted, and the light that issued completely blinded everyone. Shards of holly wood and two phoenix feathers flew high into the air.

The feathers floated down slowly, coming to a rest on Voldemort's mangled, truly dead body.

~*~

Harry grinned to himself as he finished the dream off and sent it to Voldemort. Chuckling, he lay back in his bed, gazing at the ceiling.

Elsewhere, red eyes opened suddenly, peering into the gloom nervously. He had to step up his plans.

~*~

He could barely keep his eyes open.

His head nodded forward for the millionth time that lesson, but this time, he finally gave in. He dropped onto the table and fell fast asleep.

Professor Binns droned on, unaware that Harry had fallen asleep. Hermione attempted to poke him awake, but Harry just ignored her.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, but it was too late.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry's head snapped up and he was instantly alert. "Yes, sir?"

"Would you care to tell us everything you know about the death of Salazar Slytherin?"

Harry nearly bit his tongue off trying not to reveal the truth. "Well, it isn't really known what happened to him," he said calmly, trying to marshal his thoughts. "Or to the other founders, for that matter. They all mysteriously disappeared on the twenty-first of November, thousand and two. For weeks before, they had been setting all their affairs in order, so one can only assume that they knew what was about to happen to them. What that is, however, remains speculation, and rumours have been extremely wide-ranging. From committing group suicide to running off to live with the centaurs, none have been proven, and indeed, most seem implausible. Despite an intensive search conducted by the Ministry's best Dark Fighters, now known as Aurors, their bodies were never found." Harry tilted his head to one side, trying to remember more. "I'm sorry, that's really all I can remember."

Professor Binns was gaping at him. "That was more than you were required to know. Well done, Mr. Potter. Take five points for Gryffindor. As he said, much of the deaths of the founders remains shrouded in mystery…"

Harry's head drooped and fell back onto his desk. This time, Hermione let him sleep.

~*~

Harry remained in a sort of half-awake, half-asleep stupor for the rest of the day. His friends finally gave up on prodding him awake in class, as he just ignored them anyway. Every time a teacher called on him to give an answer, though, he was able to answer accurately, and in far greater depth than their syllabus covered. Duly impressed, his teachers left him pretty much alone, trusting that he knew his work.

Except for Snape, of course.

The dour Potions Master started off the lesson by deducting ten points from Neville for being late. For once, it had been Harry who had hurried the others along, eager to get to Potions. Ron and Hermione were beginning to think lack of sleep had done something… weird… to Harry's brain.

"Potter!" Snape snapped. "What is the most useful potion you can make if I give you some armadillo bile, dragon's blood, earwigs, lacewings, and powdered unicorn horn?"

"Assuming there's sufficient quantities of each item, a healing potion, sir," Harry said instantly. "The seventh one in the series, actually."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And if I gave you only two drops of dragon's blood?"

"Then the second healing potion in the series, probably. Given these ingredients, you could also make a Visionary Potion, but that isn't really as useful as a healing potion would be, given the war."

There was a long silence.

"Correct," Snape said finally. Draco grinned, as did Ron and Hermione, and just about every Gryffindor in the room, but Harry remained completely straight-faced. Snape whirled around and selected some items from his store.

"Given these ingredients, Potter," Snape said, with a smirk. "Make the rarest potion you can think of. We will be testing it later. Take it as a test of sorts – any attempt to help will result in a penalty. The rest of you, open up your books to page seventy-two. You will be making the potion Potter has just stated – the seventh healing potion."

Harry studied the items Snape had selected for him. Billiwig stings, unicorn tail hair, frozen Ashwinder eggs, lacewings… he shook his head in frustration. Snape had deliberately picked out ingredients that would cancel out the effects of the other ingredients! Or just explode… there was no way he could add Ashwinder eggs and a phoenix feather in the same potion, for crying out loud. Draco, getting a look at the ingredients, winced in sympathy. Harry was in a tad bit of trouble.

Um, Sal? Harry begged silently. Salazar was laughing away in his head, voice faint since he wasn't dream-hopping. The frequent hops they did allowed Harry to vaguely send his thoughts out to Salazar, however, even if he was in another realm altogether.

Yes? Salazar asked smugly.

HELP!

Ow, no need to yell that loud. Okay, what ingredients have you… oh. Salazar looked through Harry's eyes at the ingredients Snape had laid out, and groaned. Man, he has it in for you, huh?

He's an amazing Potions Master, and an amazingly irritating man.

Tell me about it. Harry, baby, I'm sorry, but I really don't know what you could possibly do with these things! Except maybe blow up your cauldron…

Harry actually chuckled out loud, earning himself several strange looks. Snape glided up to him smoothly.

"Care to share the joke, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shook his head slightly. "Just remembering what happened the last time I tried to add Ashwinder eggs and phoenix feathers in the same potion," he said quietly. "Sir, you do know that all these ingredients cancel out each other?"

"Then invent a potion, for all I care," Snape said. "So long as it has some practical use. You – don't have to use all of them."

Harry's eyes lit up instantly. "Sure!" He picked up the phoenix feather and placed it away from the other ingredients. "Not going to be using that… I need a name for this thing, really…" he muttered to himself, as he set up his cauldron. Snape returned to prowling around the room, his eyes flicking over to Harry every so often.

Harry carefully measured out one cup of armadillo bile, adding it to the simmering concoction in his cauldron. The thick blue liquid inside spluttered slightly and turned cream. He stirred it lazily, and studied it in satisfaction.

So, what does this little creation of yours do? Salazar asked curiously. Harry grinned to himself.

Nothing, until a little portion of the person is added into this. Let's say it's sort of like Polyjuice Potion… only, not.

That helps.

I know. Why don't you just wait for the demonstration?

'The demonstration,' came sooner than expected. Snape instructed the class to bottle up their potions and clear up. He came up by Harry's table, studying the smooth, cream-coloured in his bottle.

"Gather around, class," he said lazily. "We will be testing Mr. Potter's potion now. Care to tell us what it is?"

Harry frowned. "I have no idea. Any suggestions for a name?" he asked brightly.

If we actually knew what it did…

Shush!

"If we actually knew what it did, perhaps," Snape drawled. Harry managed to keep a straight face, through some amazing feat. "Er, it works on the same principle of a Polyjuice Potion, sir," he said, coughing just slightly. The class made a restless, shifting crowd around him and Snape. Ron and Hermione, right beside him, could see the clearest. "I'll need a part of someone… hair, probably."

"Mr. Weasley," Snape snapped. Harry turned to him, giving him an apologetic look. Ron shrugged and snapped a strand of hair in half, giving it to Harry. Harry poured out a bit of his potion and added the hair in. The thick liquid immediately reached up, as if it were a sentient being, and covered the hair. Harry stroked the surface of the liquid with his finger, murmuring, "There, now, settle down… It's all right, calm down…"

There were a few raised eyebrows around the class. A single, red bubble rose to the surface, bursting and spreading a thin red film over the surface of the potion. Harry smiled.

"Well, it's ready," he said cheerfully. "Anyone who drinks this will get whatever magical powers Ron possesses, augmenting their own. Obviously, you have to be careful whose power you duplicate in your own body – it can't be stronger than your own, or your body won't be able to handle it. Your body can only take up to twice its own power, after all." Harry downed the potion after his little speech, unhesitatingly. He shuddered slightly as the potion took effect. "Well, now I have my powers, and Ron's as well," he said casually. "Do you need me to demonstrate?"

"Of course," Snape sneered. "If you have the powers of two people, it shouldn't be too hard for you to do a simple levitating spell without your wand."

Harry bit back the statement that he could do that even without Ron's additional magic, and toyed with the idea of levitating Professor Snape. Deciding it probably wasn't a good idea, he gestured towards the cauldron on Snape's desk, levitating it perfectly. The potion inside never stirred at all, as Harry set it back down on the desk gently.

Ron, Hermione and Draco were grinning widely. Snape had a sour look on his face. Everyone else was in varying states of shock.

"How did you manage to come up with this, Potter?" Snape asked quietly. Harry shrugged lightly.

"I like making new potions," he said quietly. "Inventing things. I love the way the ingredients interact with each other." There was a faraway look in his eyes as he said, "Ashwinder eggs, sir. They're potent, and frequently used in potions to help someone who's been magically drained. It was just a step further to using them to augment one's own strength. If you gave me some dragon's blood and asphodel, I would have been able to increase my own magical powers, without having to duplicate someone else's in me." He looked up at Snape, an air of quiet confidence about himself. "That's really it, sir. I just looked at the way the other ingredients would mix with the eggs, which were the key to the whole potion."

"Back to your places and pack up. Get out of my class. Potter, I wish to see you after dinner. Come down here," Snape said authoritatively. Harry's lip curved in a small half-smile and he moved to put his books together. He knew what Snape wanted.

~*~

No, Sylvan, I don't, Harry said affectionately. Feel free to roam around, but do be careful. There are a lot of people here who would kill you first, and ask questions later.

I will be careful, Speaker, the snake promised, sliding off his lap. Hedwig watched happily, then hopped off Harry's arm, winging her way out the open window. Sleep well, Harry-wizard, she called out, as she disappeared out the window.

You too, Hedwig, he replied, smiling. As the snowy owl disappeared, he was left by himself. Everyone else was down at dinner. The huge hourglasses that showed the house points showed that Gryffindor had mysteriously gained fifty points. No one knew where that had come from – except Harry. And Snape.

Sighing idly, Harry picked up a green scarf and wrapped it around himself idly, getting up. He might as well get down to the dungeons. He knew Snape wouldn't be at dinner.

As Harry strolled down the empty corridor, he stretched languidly, wincing as his back muscles pulled painfully. He had to remember not to read for too long before giving his eyes, back and neck a break. It was killing his back.

Arriving at the dungeon, Harry inquisitively stuck his head in. Sure enough, Snape was there, studying the potion Harry had made. "Professor?" he asked tentatively. Snape looked up briefly and motioned him in. Harry stepped inside and sat down on the indicated stool.

"Potter," Snape began directly. "As much as it pains me to say this, this potion was very well made."

"Thank you," Harry murmured under his breath. Snape fixed hooded black eyes on him.

"I would never have thought of combining daisy roots and sliced caterpillars like you did," he admitted, each word seemingly dragged out of his mouth. Harry kept his face expressionless. Snape placed the potion back on the table and steepled his hands, fingers interlaced. Harry realized his hands were amazingly smooth, for one who worked with volatile potions for a living. And they were pale, too, like alabaster.

"I believe you are capable of far more than the school curriculum could possibly offer you," Snape continued. "Therefore, I would like you to discontinue your regular Potions classes, and have private lessons with me each evening." He looked at Harry expectantly, yet with a strange look in his eyes. Harry didn't have to think twice, before accepting.

"Good," Snape said, that same strange light in his eyes. "We'll start next week, but you do not have to come for your regular lessons this week. Dismissed."

Harry got up and left.

~*~

"So what did he want, Harry?" Ron asked inquisitively. Harry shook his head tiredly, flopping down on his bed with a groan, noting vaguely that Draco was on it as well. He mumbled something into his pillow.

"What was that?" Draco asked with a grin. Harry snuggled into his side. "I said, I need a massage," he purred. "Want to give me one?"

"At least close the curtains," Dean said grumpily. "I am not a voyeur, and I don't intend to become one anytime soon, thank you very much." Smirking, Draco reached out and the curtains around Harry's bed swished close. Ron groaned and collapsed onto his own bed.

"Great, now I've got these unwelcome mental images in my mine," he complained. There were muffled snickers from around the room, but a murmured "Silencio!" was still heard. Harry's bed, which had been creaking, abruptly became quiet.

"Even worse mental images now," Ron muttered.

Behind closed curtains and a silencing spell, Harry lay half-naked, under Draco's talented hands. He groaned again, this time in pleasure, as Draco worked the knots out of his back. There was nothing remotely sexual about it – right up until the point Draco started kissing his way down Harry's back.

Harry arched back into his touch with a hiss, startling Draco. Silver eyes met green, as Harry rolled over onto his back, Draco above him. The Slytherin sank down into the bed beside Harry.

"Not yet," Harry whispered, drawing Draco into his arms. "Not yet." Draco nodded compliantly, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and kissing his lips softly. Harry smiled into the kiss, earning himself a tongue lapping at his lips. He willingly parted his lips, allowing Draco's eager tongue entry.

"Love you," he moaned, through the haze of love, lust and desire. Draco didn't reply, just arched closer, letting his need for Harry show through clearly. Harry deepened the kiss for a few seconds, then reluctantly pulled away. Both boys were flushed – even Draco's normally pale skin was pink.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Harry whispered, kissing Draco lightly on his cheek.

"Yes," Draco murmured lazily. Harry chuckled.

"You know, normal people would have said something along the lines of, 'So are you,'" he remarked.

"Well, I'm not normal," Draco replied, a hint of a smile lurking behind his soft lips. Harry outright grinned at him, hand sneaking behind him.

Draco didn't see the pillow until it was too late.

His indignant squawk was cut short as he tumbled off the bed, into the curtains, face plastered to the floor. The silencing spell was abruptly broken, and Harry's unbridled laughter rang through the dormitory.

"Not funny!" Draco yelled. Seamus, Dean, Ron and Neville got up at the same moment. If something had embarrassed Draco Malfoy, they wanted to see it. Harry was practically choking as he laughed – right until Draco whacked him in the face with another pillow.

And thus began the pillow fight to end all pillow fights.

Seamus cautiously peeked through the curtains, only to catch a pillow right in the face. Harry dove for it instantly, bringing it up just in time to protect himself from Draco's wrath. The blonde was pummelling Harry mercilessly.

The other Gryffindors stood by and watched, bewildered.

"You know, there is just something so wrong with this scene," Ron said, shaking his head. "Draco Malfoy in a pillow fight? It's just wrong." A sudden grin cracked his face. "But who cares?" He dashed back to his own bed and grabbed his pillow. The other boys followed suit.

The dormitory was soon filled with flying feathers.

~*~

It was a very tired six who finally made their way down to breakfast.

"Well, it's about time," Hermione said tartly, as the six dropped into seats beside her, with varying degrees of un-gracefulness. "Whatever were you lot doing yesterday? We heard so much noise from your room, we could barely get any sleep!"

Harry was probably the most refreshed of them. "Nothing much," he told Hermione, grinning cockily at her. "But I won!"

Seamus groaned. "How can you be so bloody cheerful on one hour of sleep?" he asked. Harry grinned and reached for the smallest bread roll there was – he wasn't very hungry, with his vampiric side in full play. What he wouldn't give for some blood.

Hey. You busy?

"For me to know and you to never find out," Harry commented dryly. Not really. What is it?

"Oh, come on, Harry," Hermione said pleadingly. "If you told me, I could stay up longer studying!"

Silence fell over the table as everyone stared at her disbelievingly. Hermione blushed. "Okay, forget I said anything."

I kind of need to tell you something that's slightly important.

"Could you pass the butter, 'Mione? Thanks," Harry said. Like what?

Um, that I've been keeping an eye on Voldemort, and something seems to have spooked him. He's stepping up all his plans – he's going to attack a muggle school soon.

What?! Harry exclaimed. A school? That –

Yeah, we all feel the same way. It's a school for the deaf, too… which means they won't hear anyone coming until it's too late. Harry, you've got to stop it. One of us can maybe come out of here to help you, if you need it, but we don't think you need any help. If anything, Voldemort needs the help. A soft chuckle, like that a person would give when the situation isn't really that funny, but needs lightening up.

When's the attack beginning? Harry asked instantly.

In five minutes.

A long silence.

"Well, shit," Harry said eventually. He swung his legs over the table. "Sorry, guys, gotta go – if I'm not back in time for lessons, just tell the professors I'm – ah, indisposed at the moment? Thanks." He took off running down the Great Hall, enlarging his sword even as he burst through the doors.

The others stared after him.

Where is it? Harry asked grimly, racing down the corridor to the Hogwarts entrance.

I'll give you a mental picture, a feel for the place. Once you're outside the Hogwarts grounds, apparate there. True to his word, Salazar sent Harry a mental picture, just as he reached the boundaries of Hogwarts. Not wasting a single moment, Harry apparated the instant he stepped over the invisible boundary of the spell that prevented apparition.

It wasn't anywhere near Scotland, that much was for sure. Harry had no idea where he was, but one thing he did know was that the Death Eaters were already swarming the building. Terrified screams rose from within the drab white building, and fury rose within Harry.

So. Pick on little kids, will they? Think they're so bloody tough, do they? We'll see, Harry thought grimly. He levelled his hand at the few Death Eaters who had noticed him, standing beside the building. A small white sphere of light formed in his hand, and, an instant later, blasted out as an arrow of light. The beam of light sliced through the four Death Eaters, killing them immediately. Harry started running, heading around the corner to the entrance of the school.

Having dispensed of the guards, Harry stepped inside, and wasn't surprised to see chaos. His sword started glowing an incandescent white, and he sliced it through a Death Eater who didn't even see him coming, engrossed as he was in placing the Cruciatus on a little nine-year-old girl. Harry pushed the girl behind him and took up a defensive stance, as the Death Eaters turned their attention away from the students and teachers, and towards him.

For some reason, they seemed to think he was a threat. Harry smiled grimly, raising his sword.

They were right.