Yes, I know that I've made a lot of mistakes throughout the story, but come on. It's a fanfiction. I'll never be J. K. Rowling, so just give me a break. You really don't have that much to do here in Cork…so, really… Besides, I had a bad day yesterday… I drove to the airport to pick up my annoying little cousin and drove back home, while listening to him talk about his fascination with rodents and his pet hamster. And on top of all that, I bust my lip on my mother's bedside table chasing after him. So, in the end…I've had some pretty crappy days pass by. I don't know how the English school system works. We have neither prefects nor Head boys or girls…so, forgive me.

Chapter 23

Tom and Harry agreed to meet later in the nights for lessons, and meet they did. Tom let Harry inside his dungeon rooms and guided him to the sofa where they had sat earlier that day. The old man had stacks of book on his table along with parchment strewn everywhere. It looked as if he had been looking for something or just piling everything up as best as he could.

"Take a seat, Harry." He sat where he did earlier and watched as his uncle took a seat across from him in a wooden chair, "This," Tom pointed to the stacks of books and papers on the table, "is everything on the Dark Arts, including," he reduced his voice to a whisper, "the Unforgivables."

"Everything?" Harry asked.

"Everything." Tom nodded with a sly smile, "The Dark Arts is a dangerous subject to get your nose stuck in, but I trust you can handle it. Though, I hate the fact that I couldn't get into it myself. By the time I finally caught an interest in it, I was too old," he sighed, "I'm over seventy-years-old; quite old, if I do say so myself."

Seventy? He looks to be around late twenties…early thirties? He was a very good-looking man indeed. But Harry didn't ask.

"We'll be getting basic hexes and curses down first, then we'll get on with more complex thing," Harry nodded, "How does a good Mentality Curse sound?" Tom asked and Harry's smile widened.

Several days had now passed and Harry was regularly visiting his uncle during the early nights. He told no one where he was or what he was doing, but Draco was getting a little irritated, especially with his nosy nature.

Harry had mastered now several types of mental curses; along with a number of simple hexes that Harry was considering using on the Weasel. He was wondering though, if he should tell Draco. The boy was bound to find out sooner or later anyway, why not? When the time's right, Harry agreed. But definitely not now.

Harry and Draco were sitting in the common room alone, which was quite rare, but everyone was in the Great Hall still and the Serpent Duo were hastily trying to finish the last of their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework before their next class.

"What's another word for spell?" asked Harry looking up to Draco, and the blond stopped scratching his quill against the parchment and looked up also.

"Charm?" asked Draco.

"I've used it…too many times."

"Concoction?" Harry shook his head. Draco bit his lip in though for a moment, "How about hex or enchantment?"

Harry then turned back to his essay again and continued writing. Several more minutes passes before the bell rang and they grabbed their things hastily running down the hallway after leaving the portrait hole and heading towards their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They entered the room and found that they were the only ones there. They scurried to their seats and while Harry was finishing his paper, Draco was turning his in.

Harry was just finishing his last sentence when the rest of the class walked in and Harry scrambled to the front of the room to turn in his paper. Draco pointed out that Weasel wasn't there.

"Maybe he got hexed?" came a voice from behind. It was Parkinson.

"What do you know about it?" Draco asked.

The pug-faced girl merely shrugged, "Only that he got on Crabbe and Goyle's bad side."

"What happened?" Harry started excitedly.

She took a seat and was about to start when Professor Snape walked passed them, "Save it for another time, Ms. Parkinson."

She shut her mouth and Harry and Draco sighed. Professor Snape walked towards the front of the class and walked behind his desk.

"Is everyone's assignment turned in?" no one answered, "I'll assume that that's a yes." He turned back to his desk, "I see that Weasel…excuse me, Weasley isn't here. Skipping again I presume for not finishing his assignment…Why am I not surprised?" Harry heard him mumble to himself.

He turned back to the class and was about to announce today's assignment when the door flew open. It was Ronald Weasley out of breath, "S-sorry I'm…late. I was a bit…delayed." He glared at Crabb and Goyle as he closed the door behind him and walked towards his desk, only problem was that Professor Snape became an obstacle between the two.

"Sorry?" Snape asked, trying to confirm what the redhead was telling him. The boy nodded, "Not as sorry as you're going to be." And with that, Snape let him pass.

Draco beamed up at Harry looking hopeful.

"Today is going to be a bit different." Snape had a hint of a matter-of-fact voice, "Instead of the usual class work…we will be dueling."

The Granger girl's hand snapped up, but Professor Snape ignored her. Draco was whispering something about a 'filthy mudblood'. Harry had heard the word before: a witch or wizard born into a muggle family…dirty blood. Draco had said that mudbloods didn't belong in any wizarding school, let alone Hogwarts. What future did they possess with no past? They weren't meant for the Wizarding World, nor should they ever play a part. Draco sneered down upon them, as did Harry who followed the blonde's example.

Harry found himself reminiscing of the past about his muggle relatives. Remembering what they had done to him since he arrived at their doorstep eleven years ago. Remembering what his uncle did to him…Harry shivered. Muggles really were horrid beings and there wasn't room for both the Wizarding and the Muggle World. Harry smirked just as he was snapped out of his reverie.

"Potter," Snape called out, "You're up first with Weasley."

The students all stood in a very large circle, "Hey Harry," Draco pulled on the green-eyed boy's arm to get his attention, "Do me a favour."

Harry turned to him and nodded, "All right."

"Shut the mudblood-lover up…real good." Draco smirked as did Harry soon after and nodded.

"Count on it."

Harry walked up to Snape and the Weasel not far behind, "You all know the rules of a Wizarding duel, you take tests on it every week, though it throws me to find that the majority of you seem to get those simple questions wrong. So, I'll have to explain.

"Both of you will stand on the opposite side of the room and on the count of three, you will cast you're spells. Understand?" There were a few nods before Harry and his opponent were lead to their dueling places.

"You know what is accepted and what is not, do I need to remind you?" Neither answered, "Then on the count of three you will cast your spells at your opponent."

The most devious smile played on Harry's lips, "When I'm through with you…you'll wish you had stayed in that trash heap you call home."

"One…"

Weasley glared at him, "Since when does a mix-blood over power a pureblood?" most knew now that Harry's mother was a mudblood. He wasn't proud of it, in fact he hated her for it. But, the only thing that he was determined to do now was become the most powerful wizard of all.

"Two…"

"Since now." He lifted his wand.

"Three!"

"Expelliarmus!" Weasley was blasted off his feet and back into the crowd of Gryffindors. They helped him up and he was searching for his wand when that bushy haired girl handed it to him. Harry had it on his agenda to get rid of the mudblood, but he was still practicing with Tom. He would wait till he got older and actually had a plan.

"Accio wand!" Weasley's wand flew through the air towards Harry and he caught it with his left hand. Weasley turned to him with a deadly glare, but Harry only laughed, "Please, tell me, Weasel. What's it like to be completely defenseless?"

"You're going to pay for this one." He answered.

Harry laughed, "Trust me when I tell you that you are in no position to make threats." Harry lifted his wand again, "Mobilicorpus!"

The redhead was lifted into the air and turned upside down by Harry. Harry walked up to him, "I'll ask again. What's it like to be completely defenseless?"

"Fuck off." Was all that came from the Weasley, and Harry's grin only widened.

"Language, Weasel." Harry said, "Would you like down now? You're turning a little purple at the face." He didn't wait for an answer before he said, "Finite Incantatem!" and the freckle faced boy fell to the floor with a loud thump.

End of Chapter 23