Heir to the Weasley Throne

by xayne

[AU] In Harry's sixth year, he begins preparing for Voldemort in earnest. He finds escape in the form of a competition hosted by the Weasley twins to crown the best prankster at Hogwarts, and comfort in the arms of an unexpected girl.

4. Chapter Four

            Kerchunk! Sniiiiikt. Flumf!Kerchunk! Sniiiiikt. Flumf! Kerchunk! Sniiiiikt. Flumf!

            The sounds of earnest digging were interrupted by Pansy's concerned voice. "You alright over there, Scarhead?"

            Harry dug his shovel deep into the tough soil. Kerchunk! "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" He hopped on the top of the blade, driving it completely underground. Sniiikt.

            "You look a little pale, that's all."

            Flumf. Harry wiped his brow. He had come to the day's detention straight from his training with Professor Nemo. They had been working with the Imperius Curse. The good news was that, by the end of the session, Harry had been able to throw the spell off completely. Unfortunately, this success came at the end of several hours of exhaustive effort, leaving Harry totally drained for his menial labor assignment. Gritting his teeth Harry pulled out the next shovelful: Kerchunk! Sniiiiikt. Flumf!

            "Maybe you had better sit down for a few minutes," Pansy said.

            Harry tried not to look startled. "Nah, I'm fine. Just a little tired. I guess I haven't been slipping very well lately." He made a point of not looking at Pansy as he said this.

            "Uh-huh," the Slytherin girl answered, sounding unconvinced. She finished the particular hole she had been working on, and dropped a seed into it from the pouch at her waist. The seeds they had planted just the day before, under Professor Sprout's expert care, had already turned into foot-tall seedlings. "Say, Potter."

            Flumf! Kerchunk! "What?"

            "What were you in the Hospital Wing for?"

            "Oh. I had, er, an accident in Professor Nemo's classroom. He was trying to show me a spell, and it went astray."

            "Hmmm," Pansy muttered. It was mutually evident that he was lying to her. "Sounds pretty careless."

            Harry took a deep breath and stabbed the ground with his spade again. "Yeah, I guess so."

            Pansy changed the subject. "So, today, some one let off a Contagious Laughing Charm in Professor Binns' classroom. Apparently, it took him the better part of half an hour to notice."

            Harry laughed. "Yeah, I heard about that."

            "You mean you knew about it before it happened, right?" she asked. "It was for that contest, wasn't it?"

            Harry nodded. "Yeah. A second year-girl in Ravenclaw. Nobody I know."

            "Incredible," she said, laughing. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

            Harry swayed visibly on the spot, leaned against his shovel for support. "What do

you say we take a breather?" he suggested. "I think I'd like to dip my feet in the Lake."

            Pansy considered it for a moment. "Yeah, okay."

            Abandoning shovels, seed bags and misplaced earth, the two students made their way over to the lakeside. They kicked off their shoes and put their feet into the cold waters. "Ah, that's nice," Harry breathed. He cupped his hands into the water splashed his face with it.

            "How much longer do you think we'll be working on this digging project?" she asked.

            Harry scratched his head. "Well, I figure we graduate in a little over eighteen months, and they can't make us keep working after that. At least I hope not."

            Pansy laughed. "That's what I thought."

            Harry was thinking hard, staring at the pristine waters of the Lake. Deep underneath, he knew, were a town of Merpeople, a large nest of grindylows, and a giant Squid. All he could think about, though, was the immense amounts of water.

            "Pansy?"

            "Yeah, Harry?"

            He blinked in surprise. She had never called him that before. "I have a really brilliant idea, but I need some help with it."

            "Oh?"

            "Yeah, I was thinking of something, well, rather unpleasant for your housemates, particularly Draco."

            Pansy clapped her hands together in delight. "What is it?"

            "Well, do you remember our first year of History of Magic? When Professor Binns was lecturing about the Sumerian Wizarding farms?"

            Pansy gave him a suspicious look. "You mean to tell me that you pay attention in that class?"

            "Sometimes it comes to me in my dreams, like osmosis. Anyway, there was a spell in my notes for irrigation. The Sumerian wizard farmers would essentially magick water from a nearby stream into a holding area in their farms," Harry told her. "If done correctly, the spell could potentially relocate, well, an immense amount of water. I mean, we've got the water source right here in front of us. All I really need to know is the exact dimensions and location of Draco's room."

            Pansy put her hand over her mouth in surprise, but he could tell she was beaming underneath it. "I think I can supply that information."

            In the distance, they heard the loud clack of a dinner bell.

            "Ooh, let's go," Pansy said. She jumped to her feet, grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him up.

            "Oh, hey, Pansy, that reminds me. Do you like the pudding they serve with dinner?" he asked innocently.

            "Yeah, it's alright," she said, putting her shoes back on. "Why?"

            "Well, I got a note from… well… it's better if you don't know that. Anyway, I got a note right before I came down here. I think you might want to avoid the pudding tonight."

            "Will do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Harry leaned back in his seat, patting his stomach pleasantly. He felt entirely rejuvenated from the days' efforts after a pleasant, filling dinner. He was just contemplating cutting out of dinner a little early and taking a nap when he caught sight of Pansy, sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table. Three seats removed her from her nearest housemate. Harry frowned. He felt sorry for her; eating alone three meals a day must get lonely.

            "Dear, do you mind sharing that pudding?"

            "Certainly, Ron."

            Harry was pulled from his sympathetic notions just in time to watch his two closest friends, Ron and Hermione, each shovel a mouthful of chocolate pudding into the other's mouth.

            "NO!" Harry hissed, taking the bowl away from them. He watched them in horror for a second, their quizzical faces staring back at him.

            "I think I'm a little young to be watching my weight, don't you?" Ron asked, perplexed.

            Hermione tried something else. "I know this dish was made by the House Elves, and I am concerned for their ethical treatment-"

            Harry did not understand. Had he read the note on the date wrong? He was almost positive that the Creevey Brothers had picked tonight to infiltrate the Hogwarts kitchen and lace the pudding with—

            "Grrbbrmmph!"

            A spray of dark, mottled fluid raced across the tabletop and splattered across Harry. Ron looked noxious, a thin strand of the same juice hanging from the corner of his mouth. Hermione, who had obviously been making a Herculean effort to hold hers in, also lost her lunch at the disgusting sight. From there, it spread out in waves across the Great Hall, with Harry at the epicenter. The air was rent with the sounds of regurgitation, screams of dismay, and the nastiest splashing sound Harry had ever heard. Looking around, Harry soon realized that the infection was pandemic; everyone who had tried the Puking Pastille Pudding was upchucking violently. Even at the staff table, Professor Snape tossed his cookies into the lap of Professor Flitwick, who in turn barfed on the table top itself, causing Professor McGonagall to ralph on Dumbledore's shoes. Harry did his best not to make eye contact with the Headmaster.

            Nor was he the only one. At the end of the Gryffindor table nearest the staff table, the Creevey brothers sat with their backs to the administration. They were both retching powerfully, Harry noticed, but the triumphant look on their face showed that they were the only ones prepared to be doing so.

            The vomitorium raged for several minutes. At the far end of the Slytherin table, a young girl could be seen laughing hysterically in the midst of the chaos.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Harry lay in bed that night, staring at the roof of his four-poster contemplatively. He was exhausted, of course, but was not quite ready for sleep. His mind kept floating back to the soft, pale face of a certain brunette, sitting beside him at the lake. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He focused on the Aegis Charm that Professor Nemo had highlighted in Harry's notes, tried to remember the wand movement that triggered it. His mind wandered from there to the Irrigation Spell he planned to employ the following morning, and then found himself dwelling on Pansy again.

            "That was bloody disgusting," Ron announced, stepping into the dormitory. He had been in the bathroom for the previous half-hour, apparently brushing his teeth the whole time.

            Harry laughed. "Yeah, that was classic."

            "You could have warned us," Ron said sorely.

            Harry tried not to laugh again. "Seriously, mate, it just slipped my mind."

            Ron sighed, crawled into his own bed. "Is there anything else I need to look out for, you know, while you're thinking about it?"

            Harry smiled to himself. "Okay. You might want to steer clear of the Slytherin House in the morning."

            "That shouldn't be a problem," Ron answered.

            "You know what? On second thought, you might swing by the dungeons anyway, just to check it out. It ought to be worth watching."

            "Maybe I'll do that," Ron answered, still sounding resentful.

            The next morning, Harry was awakened by a series of powerful fireworks outside Gryffindor Tower. Sleepily, he wandered over to the window and looked out, observing the magic of Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs (Deflagration Deluxe edition). Harry laughed a little, wondering how much merchandise WWW was moving with this contest, and then went down to breakfast at the normal time.

            The scene that confronted him was comic. The entire student body, as well as many of the faculty, was staring at each other suspiciously. Hardly anyone spoke, but ate in grave silence, inspecting their food carefully before each mouthful. Harry had been pretty impressed with Dennis and Colin's prank. Getting into the kitchen was hardly difficult once one knew how. However, they had managed to sabotage dessert without getting caught. This meant that they had persuaded the House Elves to keep their secret, or else gotten in and out with being observed. Harry could not imagine how they could have accomplished either.

            Harry took his usual seat next to Ron and across from Hermione. As near as he could tell, they were still sulking about their last meal. He ignored them and pulled his plate close to him. He pulled his wand out of his robes and performed a quick Treachery search. Satisfied, he began eating voraciously.

            "Harry?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "Do you think you can teach me that sometime?"

            "Sure thing," Harry replied, smiling.

            "So, how have you been lately, anyway?" she persisted. "It seems like we never see each other any more."
            Harry sighed. She had a point. The three of them had been virtually inseparable during their first five years at Hogwarts. However, since Hermione and Ron had been dating, they hardly saw each other outside of class. Harry had been particularly busy of late, of course, with detention, extra lessons with Professor Nemo, and his duties as the Liaison for WWW. "I've been getting along," he mumbled. "How about you guys?"

            "Pretty 'ood," Ron said through a mouthful of food.

            Hermione nodded in agreement.

            "How's… um, you know, being together?" he asked tenderly. It was the first time it had really come up in conversation between them.

            "It's wonderful," they said in one voice.

            Harry smiled, feeling authentically glad for them.

            "So, Harry, what's going on?"

            Dennis and Colin Creevey, looking more alike with the passing day, appeared across the table from Harry, next to Hermione.

            "Hey there, guys," Harry said.

            "We were wondering if we might have a look at the standings," Dennis said immediately.

            "Come again?" Harry asked.

            "Well, we just wanted to know," Colin said, looking around conspiratorially and whispering the rest; "If our little prank last night put us in the lead."

            Ron dropped his fork. "That was you guys?"
            Harry laughed. "You know, if I were you two, I'd keep that under my hat. I have so far."

            "Ah," said Dennis.

            "I see," Colin echoed.

            "I'm going to make you suffer for that," Hermione said, her voice savage but quiet.

            The Creevey brothers beamed in response.

            "I have to tell you, boys, that was a neat trick," Harry told them. "I was impressed, anyway. But I am not in charge of the scoring. I simply give the results to the Twins, and they figure it out. They haven't sent me any updates yet."

            Dennis frowned. "Well, what do you think? I mean, just your personal opinion?"

            Harry laughed. "I think it's very early in the month to be concerned. I think there's a full day ahead of us."

            The two boys smiled at him in unison. "We're far from done," Dennis assured him, and the two departed together.

            Owl post arrived shortly later, and Harry received no less than seven envelopes. He opened the first one. "Hmmm. Maybe you guys want to stay clear of the staff room around noon. Looks like Justin Finch-Fletchley is taking a page out of Lee Jordan's book."

            "Niffler?" Hermione guessed.

            "Nifflers," Harry corrected. "A dozen of them."

            "Oh boy," Ron breathed.

            Harry opened the next one. He recognized the scrawl at once:

To the Official Hogwarts Liaison of WWW:

                    Dungbombs in the Library

                    Tuesday at noon

                    Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle

          "Hmm, points for originality," Harry muttered. He looked at Hermione. "Maybe you should take your lunch break outside today. Looks like the library is going to be a little chaotic.

            "Sure thing," Hermione said.

            "Got it," Ron chimed.

            Harry stopped for a moment, and then turned to give Ron a withering look. "Don't tell me she's got you eating lunch in the library now."

            Ron flushed red.

            "Great." Harry opened another letter. "Hmmm… maybe you should just take your lunch break in Gryffindor tower."

            Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes, but agreed.

            After breakfast, while all of the students were dispersing to their various classes, Harry stole down into the dungeons. He came to a halt next to the statue of Sir Bruce the Ignoble, a towering night mounted on horseback. Pansy appeared momentarily later. "Follow me," she whispered fiercely, and led Harry down a side corridor and into the girls' bathroom. "Don't worry, no one will be in here," she told him, assuaging his concern. "The spell requires that the caster stand physically between the source of the water and the point of delivery, so our options are limited."

            "Very well," Harry agreed. "We had better hurry. It will look suspicious if we are late to class."

            "Besides," Pansy said, smiling maliciously and patting the wall closest to them. "Draco's bedroom is directly on the other side of this wall."

            Harry returned her devious grin. "Excellent."

            "The ceiling is exactly ten feet high, but the room is fairly good sized. It spans about fifteen feet in each direction from about… here." She tapped a marked brick on the wall.

            "What's that?" Harry asked.

            "Draco's peephole," she said laughing. He pulls out that brick from time to time so he can spy on anyone dumb enough to use this restroom."
            "Eww."

            "Yeah. That's why no one uses this restroom anymore."

            Harry laughed. "Perfect."

            "All right, let's do this."

            As predetermined, they would each create one irrigation port into the Slytherin dungeon. That way, they were equal partners in the project – and equally guilty. Harry cast his into Draco's bedroom, and Pansy (more familiar with the layout) put a separate one in the common room. They focused for a moment on the spaces they had visualized, as well as a place at the bottom of the lake, and said the words of the spell.

            "Did it work?" Pansy asked, excitement in her voice.

            "Listen!" Harry whispered. On the other side of the wall next to them, they could faintly hear the sound of flowing water.

            "Oh wow," Pansy exclaimed. "It sounds like a river in there."

            "I think that means we'd better go," Harry said, pulling the door open for her.

            "Right," she raced through the entrance and he followed quickly. "Bye Harry. I'll see you in detention!" She disappeared around a corner.

            Harry raced out of the dungeons and up to Transfiguration, arriving just in time to beat the bell. He took his seat next to Ron and Hermione, beaming brightly from ear to ear.

            "Uh oh," Ron said, a look of fascination betraying him.

            "Do we want to know?" Hermione asked quietly.

            "If everything goes according to plan," Harry whispered. "Everyone will know before lunchtime."

            "Oh dear," Hermione said.

            Harry did his best to calm himself down. He was slightly out of breath following his flight from the dungeons. More than that, however, was an implacable feeling of exhilaration. His nerves were pulsing with excitement, and he could scarcely sit still. The general sensation was strengthened by the fact that he seemed to have gotten away clean.

            Professor McGonagall arrived a moment later, her robes slightly singed and her hair tousled wildly. "Sorry I'm late, class," she said. "I've been outside cleaning up the last of those blasted fireworks." She cast a withering look around the class room, encompassing each of the students. Harry did his best to look surprised. Dean Thomas seemed particularly nervous, and Harry knew why.

            "Today, we will be working on a difficult transfiguration," Professor McGonagall went on. She raised her wand and conjured a set of metal lunchboxes, one atop each student desk. "Today, I will ask you turn these lunchboxes into a creature that you might not be very familiar with. This is an armadillo." She pulled out a giant poster of the strangest looking creature Harry had ever seen.

            "Now, it is your lack of knowledge about these creatures which will prove most difficult. All you will have to go on will be this poster."

            Harry shrugged. He pulled out his wand, aimed it at his silver lunchbox, and neatly produced an armadillo, nearly identical to the one on the poster. Professor McGonagall caught his eye, and they exchanged a knowing look. During his extra training sessions, he had occasionally worked with her on Transfiguration spells. He had noticed that his abilities in class had risen exponentially as a result. Before anyone noticed, Harry turned his armadillo back into the lunchbox, and feigned struggling with it.

            On the fifth try, Hermione managed to produce a live armadillo, albeit somewhat blocky in build.

            "Wow," Ron breathed, clearly astonished.

            "Nice work, Hermione," Harry said, doing his best to seem impressed.
          The diligent work of the sixth-year Gryffindors was interrupted at this point by the arrival of a very unsettled Professor Snape. "Minerva!" he sputtered. "Where is the Headmaster?"

            Professor McGonagall eyed the Potions master with a look of dismay. "He has gone to Ministry today. Why?"

            "My classroom is flooding!"

            Harry's eyes went wide in shock. "Oh boy," he muttered under his breath. How was that possible? Snape's classroom was across the building from the Slytherin common room. He knew that his spell had hit the mark – they could hear it through the wall – but had Pansy misplaced her portal?

            "Where is the water coming from, Severus?" McGonagall asked anxiously.

            "I'm not sure. The dungeons are almost completely underwater!" He exclaimed.

            Harry understood very suddenly. They had not made an error of location, but one of volume. They had figured that the irrigation portals would flood the Slytherin house in a matter of hours. Instead, they had filled up the lower section of the building in fifteen minutes! For what it was worth, he must have looked just as surprised as everyone else in the classroom.

            "Okay, class," McGonagall said urgently. "Continue working on your Transfiguration assignment. When you are done, affix a note to your armadillo with your name on it, and leave it in the cage for me to grade." She quickly conjured a steel cage large enough to hold all of their projects, and hurried out the door after Professor Snape.

            "Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling.

            "Yes," he said glumly. He wasted no time but scribbled his name on a scrap of paper. "A slight miscalculation." He easily switched the lunch box in front of him back into an armadillo (structurally identical to the pictorial one) and quickly affixed the note to it.

            "Mate, how-"

            "Sorry, friends, I have to go check this out," he said, cutting Ron off. He grabbed his things, dropped the armadillo inside the cage, and left the room at a brisk walk. He raced to the nearest stairwell and began descending steps two at a time. Professor McGonagall's classroom was on the second floor of Hogwarts, so he was scarcely down the first flight before he was wading knee-deep in dirty, brown water. "Oh boy."

            The scene at ground level was one of sheer pandemonium. Everywhere Harry looked, students were crossing a wide expanse of open water that should have been the ground floor, carrying their bags over their head and exclaiming. Books, bits of paper, and even a few stray desks floated around in the soft current. The water, which appeared to be bubbling up from the vicinity of the great hall (and the dungeons below that) was still rising. Soon the flood waters would reach the front doors of the building, and run off outside, likely back into the lake.

            ""Arry!" came a gruff voice. Harry whirled around to see the gigantic form of Hagrid, the Hogwarts Keeper of Keys and Professor for Care of Magical Creatures, bounding through the murky waters. A pair of first-years were thrown over each shoulder. "Blasted thing!" he exclaimed. "Don't know where all the water's a' comin' from!"

            "Oh boy," Harry mumbled. "What's going on, Hagrid?"

            "Ah don't know," the man admitted. "Better clear out, though, we're going to have to evacuate the building." With that, the lumbering form of Hagrid past, slogging on through the flood.

            "Oh boy."

            Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Pansy, grinning as if Christmas had come a little early. She was carrying no bag, and seemed to have lost her shoes. She had hiked her skirt up to the middle of her thigh, but it was still dipped in the waters.

            "Come here," she whispered, pulling him around a corner. They found a quiet closet off of a side-hallway, and slipped inside of it. The water in the little room was nearly to their waists.

            "Isn't this great?" she exclaimed as soon as they were safely inside.

            "Oh boy," Harry mumbled again.     

            "What? Aren't you pleased?" she asked innocently. "Sure, it's a little more than we'd planned, but isn't it all the better this way?"

            "I guess," Harry said, giving her a small nervous laugh.
            "Harry, how big did you make your irrigation portal?" she asked suddenly.

            Harry thought about it for a moment. "No bigger than Draco's room, I guess."

            Pansy laughed hysterically. "That would explain it, then. I made my about this big." She gestured, holding her hands about shoulder length apart. "I mean, really! We were taking that water from the bottom of the lake. Can you imagine how much force was pushing the water through those portals!"

            Harry thought about it. "Oh boy."

            "You don't know the half of it," she went on. "It seems we got a little more than water through those portals."

            "What?"

            "Last I heard, the Giant Squid was ravaging down the hallways in front of Snape's classroom!"

            "Ohboyohboyohboy!" Harry exclaimed, his words coming out in a long, single breath.

            "Quit saying that!" Pansy giggled. She cracked the door open and peered outside. "I think the water will be getting to the Great Doors soon. Then it will level off. Hmmm. I hope this doesn't uproot any of the trees we planted! They'd probably make us do it again!"

            Harry shrugged. That was the least of his concerns at the moment.

            "Although…" Pansy said, suddenly serious. "I can think of worse ways to spend my time." She smiled at him.

            Harry smiled back. "Thanks."

            "Good work today," she whispered.
            "You too."

            In a fluid motion, she grabbed the front of his moist robes, pulled him closer to her, and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "I'll see you later, Harry," she said slyly, and disappeared through the open door.

            "Oh boy."

            Harry emerged from the enclave a moment later, still dazed. What on earth had just happened? He had to admit that he was rather pleased by the event, although terribly surprised. Things were going absolutely crazy in that school, in ways that had nothing to do with the water that now came up to his chest.

            The flood from below had reached the level of the Front doors, and all new material was rapidly gushing outside. While this meant that the waters were no longer rising, it meant there was now a powerful surface current. If he was not careful, he'd end up in the lake. Harry seized a handrail that ran along the wall, and struggled back toward the entrance hall.

            There were no longer any students in sight, but a cluster of teachers were gathered at one side of the hall, next to the entrance to the Great Hall. Harry's path brought him within earshot.

            "Mr. Vector," he heard McGonagall saying. "Go and find Mrs. Hooch. Use all of the school brooms to evacuate the students from the upper levels. I can't have any of them wandering through this!"

            Professor Vector nodded astutely, and wandered off against the pull of the current.

            "Professor Snape, go and assist Madame Pomfrey in setting up a medical tent outside, in case of any injuries."

            "As you command," the greasy-haired Potions master responded, and left to do her bidding.

            "Harry Potter!"

            He had been spotted. "Yes, Professor?" he called back.

            "What are you doing here?" McGonagall shrieked.

            "Trying to get outside!" he shouted.

            "What?"

            The rushing sound of thousands of gallons of water was loud indeed.

            "Get over here, Potter!" McGonagall shouted.

            Harry did as he was instructed, a sense of utter despair rising in his gut. Slowly, he left the security of the handrail and fought against the water pressure on foot. He arrived at roughly the same time Professor Nemo appeared.

            The DADA instructor rose up from underwater and undid the Bubble-Head charm he had using. "Professor McGonagall!" he shouted. "The Bloody Baron was right. The water is coming from the Slytherin House."

            "Aha!" Professor Flitwick cried.

            Harry nodded understandingly, hoping that this disruption would forestall his questioning. The current was rather treacherous while he was in motion, but when he had the chance to set his feet it was relatively easy to deal with.

            "What is it, Anton?" McGonagall pressed him.

            "It appears to be a rather simple spell, actually," Nemo answered, sounding surprised. "A basic Irrigation Portal had been established in the common room. I guess I should say there were two. I was able to undo the one in the common room, but the other one is far more powerful."

            "More water, you mean? A larger portal?" Professor Sprout squeaked.

            "Well yes, that too," Nemo began.

            Professor Flitwick, the Charms professor, explained it. "What I think he means is that the second portal was set more powerfully, so that it will take more magical force to remove it."

            "Who did this?" McGonagall snarled. Her attention was focused on Harry. "It would have had to be a Slytherin. This spell requires that the caster be close to the portal. Think, Harry. Who would have done this?"

            Harry was gripped by a peculiar sense of terror. On one hand, it seemed he had eluded suspicion, but they were honing in on Pansy.

            "Surely someone who dislikes their housemates," Sprout supplied.

            Harry's mind was racing.

            "I think," Flitwick interjected. "That this was not the work of a student."

            Harry's eyes went wide.

            "I concur," Nemo put in. "That second portal was cast by an exceptionally powerful wizard. If I lacked the power to undo it, it must have been a powerful spell indeed."

            Harry tried not to smile.

            McGonagall was all frowns. "Then we must accept the possibility that our castle has been infiltrated by Deatheaters."

            "Oh boy," Harry muttered.

            "Indeed, Mr. Potter."

            "At any rate, there is no sign of them now. I went all through the dungeons in search of the portal, and there are no wizards down there," Nemo supplied.

            "Well, what should we do?" Professor Sprout spoke up.

            "I'll go back down there again," Nemo volunteered, "But I fear it will take the concerted efforts of several wizards to undo this portal."

            McGonagall gave him a grim look. "Very well. I shall accompany you to the dungeons."

            "Minerva, no!" Sprout shrieked urgently. "You aren't as young as you used to be. Especially since the attack last year."

            Harry turned to gauge McGonagall's reaction with interest. The year before, she had been attacked by a set of more or less rogue Ministry Aurors, and she had been hurt severely by their multiple-stunner attack.

            "Nonsense," McGonagall said dismissively.

            "I think she's right, Minerva," Flitwick insisted.

            "I think," said Nemo slowly, "that this assignment calls for young, spry bodies more than for powerful wizards. I'll take Potter with me; between us we should be able to close that thing up. The current near the portal is no laughing matter, and there is always the Squid to think of. He's having quite a fit."

            McGonagall wavered. "Potter, but…"

            "Wait!" Harry exclaimed. Four pairs of eyes turned his way. "I think he's right, Professor. You should be with the students right now. If this was a Deatheater attack, you have to wonder why they'd want all the students outside."

            This settled the matter conclusively for McGonagall. "Merlin's beard!" she exclaimed. Her eyes were wide with terror as she craned her neck to glance outside. "Are you sure you want to do this, Potter? Perhaps I could send Professor Flitwick…"

            "Absolutely," Harry said definitively. Of course, he would have felt guilty about sending McGonagall outside if he thought there was a remote chance of a Deatheater attack. "It sounds like, you know, fun."

            "Bless you, Potter. I'll see that you get Head Boy for this," McGonagall said tenderly.

            Harry felt his insides turn to ice. Nearby, a flyer for the WWW contest floated by on the surface of the water. He tried not to look at it.

            "Nemo, take this brave young man with you. The rest of you, with me!" Miraculously, McGonagall pulled a broom out of the rushing waters. The broom pulled her out of the current, and she rode it straight out of the front doors of the castle. Flitwick and Sprout followed on foot, struggling against the fast-moving water.

            "Remarkable woman, there," Nemo remarked.

            "Yeah," Harry agreed.

            "Here's the plan. First of all, can you cast a Bubble Head charm?"

            Harry snickered. "Of course."

            Nemo laughed. "Okay. Now, the first thing we have to do is get inside the Slytherin House and shut down that Portal. It is located inside one of the dormitory rooms there, and I have to warn you, the current is particularly strong."

            "Okay."

            "Once that's shut down, all the water should become relatively still, and we can move on to phase two."

            "Phase two, sir?"

            "Yeah, we've got to drain all the lake water out of the castle."

            "Right. So we'll need to set up another portal, one leading back into the lake?" Harry asked.

            "Right you are. But it isn't quite that simple. We have to think about the Squid. We can't very well drain the water out and leave him, can we?"

            Harry nodded. "Right."

            "So, what we'll need to do is herd him toward a strategic place, maybe the Great Hall, and then set up a portal that'll be big enough to pull him through."

            "Okay. How do we herd him?" Harry asked.

            "Use that Concussion Curse."

            "Oh boy."

            "Don't worry. That spell won't be nearly as powerful – or dangerous – underwater, but it should be enough to move him along. Make sure that you cast a narrow arc when you use it, okay?"

            Harry nodded. "No problem."

            "Are you ready?"

            Two minutes later, Harry and Professor Nemo dove into the murky waters, heads safely encased in Bubbles. This part of the castle was cloaked in near-complete darkness, save for a small amount of murky light coming from ahead. They swam hard against the current, heading deeper, down a staircase, and into the Great Hall. Here the source of light became apparent; while the torches had all been extinguished, the enchanted ceiling of the Hall still displayed the sky outside – namely a brightly burning sun in an almost completely cloudless sky.

            The flood had not been kind to Great Hall. Tables and benches drifted uneasily through the waters. The ground appeared littered with plates and silverware, although thankfully it seemed the food had all been secured.

            Nemo gestured wildly with his arms to get Harry's attention, and then pointed out his mouth. "DO THIS," the DADA professor mouthed. Nemo flipped over on his backside, and pointed his wand back the way they had come. Harry watched him cast the Concussion curse, rotating the tip of his wand in a large circle to create a wide arc for the spell. A spray of orange light flashed in the dark waters, shimmering outward in large concentric waves. Meanwhile, the kick of the spell rocketed Nemo across the room toward the entrance to the dungeons.

            Harry duplicated the process and soon came to a stop near his professor. Grinning, they both swam into the pitch black of the dungeons. Harry pulled out his wand again. "Lumos!" he declared. Light flared from the end of his wand, casting a spotlight on the direction they were heading. In order to keep his hands free to swim, Harry stuck the wand in his belt, pointing it as best he could ahead of them. Nemo did the same, and they pressed on.

            Harry shivered as his fingers grazed against the side of a passing fish. In addition to being amazingly dark, he was becoming increasingly aware of the water temperature. He cursed himself for pulling the water from the coldest part of the lake.

            Nemo, in the lead, came to a stop where the corridor forked. Harry cast his wandlight down both directions. On the left, another hundred yards or so, was Slytherin House. On the left, however, was something far more exciting. The Giant Squid was thrashing about angrily in the wide corridor, in relatively still water. When Harry's wandlight flashed across the beast, it panicked. Long tentacles seized around a nearby object – apparently a large teacher's desk – and the Squid whirled around in a tight circle, launching the implement at Harry and Nemo.

            The waters slowed down the bullet significantly, but being underwater also slowed their escape. They took off down the left corridor just in time to avoid a watery grave. Nemo flashed Harry a mischievous grin.

            As they drew nearer Slytherin House, the current got progressively stronger. By the time they entered the common room, they were reduced to working their way along the walls, clawing about for any kind of handhold. Harry looked over at Nemo, who was indicating a door at the back of the giant room. Slowly, tenaciously, they made their way over. Harry's muscles strained, his blood pumped heavy in his veins, and the cold of the water seemed to have disappeared. Grabbing on to the sides of the door frame, they pulled themselves into a dark and narrow corridor.

            Nemo pointed to the second door on the left. If there had not been a handrail leading to it, Harry was not sure they would have made it through. It took them nearly ten minutes to cross the final fifteen feet to the sixth year boys' dormitory.

            The current was clearly at its strongest here. Straining their tired muscles to the limit, the two wizards pulled themselves through the doorway (the door was nowhere to be seen, having likely been pulled from its hinges) and into the room.

            Water rushed around them at a deafening roar; conversation was an impossibility. They got out of the doorway and settled against the interior walls to the bedroom. The room seemed to have no back to it; it seemed as though the room stretched on for miles. It took Harry a moment to realize that he was looking through a floor-to-ceiling viewing window. The leagues of open water he saw were not in the room at all, but instead he was gazing across the floor of the lake.

            The force of incoming water pressed them, almost painfully against the wall at their backs. Harry's Bubble was flattening under the immense pressure. Nemo gestured toward the center of the room, and held a finger against his chest (it would have been almost impossible to hold one's hand out at this point). Then he raised a second, and finally a third. In unison, Harry and Nemo pointed their wands at the portal and said the counterspell.

            At once, the intense pressure ceased and quiet settled in on them.  The back of a mangled bedroom, now devoid of furniture, appeared. "Nice work, Harry!" Nemo shouted, and through the stillness Harry was able to make out the garbled, watery sounds.

            "Thanks!"

            They rested for a moment. Harry was very glad that Professor McGonagall had not attempted this trip. It may not have killed her, but it certainly would not have been very good for her.

            "Now, about that Squid…" Nemo laid out his plans. They exited the remains of the Slytherin House, and Nemo left Harry at the entrance. Harry returned the way they had come, while Nemo looped around the length of the dungeons, so that he could come around behind the Squid. The plan was simple; Nemo would herd the Squid back to the fork, and Harry would open an irrigation portal behind the sea creature, which would pull it through to the lake.

            Harry waited patiently in the now still waters of the corridor. Within a few minutes, he heard a horrible screeching noise coming from the other corridor. Harry peaked around the corner to see the Giant Squid zipping toward him at high speed, a plume of thick, black ink trailing behind him.

            Harry seized the opportunity and aimed his wand into the open area where the fork occurred. He cast a floor-to-ceiling portal, concentrating as he did so on the bottom of the lake, the same stretch he had seen in the Slytherin dormitory. Too late did he remember the suction power created by Irrigation Portals. He snatched wildly at the wall behind him, but his fingers could not find purchase. He rocketed through the portal and found himself in the blue waters at the bottom of the lake.

            The stream of water pushed him along the ground for several hundred feet before he finally ground to a stop, battered and bruised but unhurt. Sighing resignedly, he pointed his wand at the ground and cast a wide-arced Concussion Curse. Within seconds his head broke the surface of the water. He began swimming half-heartedly toward the castle. He could see the entire student body of Hogwarts congregated on the lawn, safely uphill of the lake.

            "Excellent work, Master Potter."

            Harry rotated in the water to look behind. Professor Nemo was swimming leisurely behind him.

            "I think that portal will drain the school in short order," he went on. "And the inhabitants of the lake should be returned to their homes."

            Harry smiled weakly. "That's good."

            "Of course, a good number of other things will be pulled through, but we'll just hope all of those float."

            Harry groaned.

            "I daresay we can expect that the rest of the day's classes will be cancelled," Nemo continued. "But I hope you will still come by for our training session."

            "Professor?" Harry asked incredulously, his mouth gaping open.

            "Disastrous pranks by Deatheaters notwithstanding, you have a lot to learn yet," Nemo told him.

            Harry sighed. "Yes sir. I'll see you at the regular time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  

            Several hours later, after a measure of order had been restored to the school and Harry had finally dried out, he reported to Professor Nemo's classroom.

            "Ah, Master Potter," the young man greeted him from behind his desk. Like Harry, he was dressed in clean, dry robes and seemed pleased by it. "I'm glad you made it. Do sit down."

            Harry shrugged, took a seat.

            "Well, quite a day for you, wasn't it? Professor McGonagall was particularly impressed with your courage. Awarded Gryffindor 150 points for the effort."

            Harry grinned; he had already more than made up for the points he had lost in the confrontation with Snape.

            "I was rather impressed myself, of course," Nemo went on in a clipped, professional voice. "Especially by the fact that I did not have to teach you the Irrigation Portal charm before we went under."

            These words landed like lead balloons in the suddenly oppressive stillness of the room. Harry found he could not breathe.

            "It is interesting indeed that you were able to close one Portal and open another without any instruction at all," Nemo reiterated.

            Harry thought fast. "Well, it was all in my notes. From History of Magic. From my first year," he managed, knowing how guilty he must sound.

            "Yes, I figured you might have pulled a feat of recollection. It is not impossible that you would know the spell, is it?"

            Harry was sharp enough to recognize a trap when it was being laid. He said nothing.

            "But the most interesting point, I thought, was not your recollection of an obscure fact from your first year. After the school had drained, I went back down to the dungeons to close the Portal you opened – the lawful one, that is – and I was rather surprised to find that I could not do so of my own ability." Nemo looked piercingly at Harry, his face devoid of emotion.

            "Oh?" Harry croaked.

            "Indeed. I set off to fetch you, but as soon as I had, Dumbledore arrived and closed it for me."

            Harry felt his panic reaching a new peak. He was becoming dizzy.

            Nemo smiled. "In truth, I don't think the Headmaster was aware that I could not close it. I don't think he realized that there are only two wizards at Hogwarts capable of opening or closing a portal of that intensity. It would seem that your secret is safe, Mr. Potter."

            Harry did not relax, not yet.

            "Granted, the man is particularly sharp, so there is no telling, really. I suppose time will tell."

            They sat in heavy silence for a few moments. Nemo's gaze did not waver, and Harry became acutely aware that he was sweating copiously.

            "So." Harry said at last.

            Professor Nemo laughed out loud. "So."

            "What now?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

            Nemo rose to his feet, paced the front of the room. "As I have mentioned, I am not a teacher by nature. I was not brought here to fill that role, really. I was brought here for a single purpose, Harry. I am firmly convinced of it. In all likelihood, my job here is done the day you graduate."

            "Yes sir."

            "Then again, it doesn't seem like anyone lasts longer than a year in this job, do they?"

            Harry gave a nervous laugh.

            "From the perspective of a teacher, it would be my duty to turn you in," Nemo said icily. "But that isn't the perspective I look at my job from. As your personal tutor, as I surely am, I have no compulsion to rat you out."

            Harry could not believe his ears.

            "Instead, I will simply take this as a compelling example of your ability," Nemo concluded. "Tell me this, though, Mr. Potter: was it your intention to flood the entire school?"

            "No sir," Harry said grimly. "I was simply… well…"

            "Trying to make life hard for a certain unpopular House?" Nemo guessed.

            Harry grinned, feeling his panic recede. "Yeah."

            "What this incident suggests to me is that you have incredible ability, Mr. Potter, but that perhaps we need to help you control it a little better."

            Harry nodded. "Apparently."

            "And your accomplice? What of that person?"

            Harry broke eye contact with his teacher, looked at the ground. "I don't know what you're talking about."

            Nemo laughed again. "You don't expect me to believe you, do you now?"

            Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter whether you do or not. I… You will never here me speak of an accomplice, whether there was one or not."

            Nemo smiled. "Fair enough. I won't press. I must ask, though, should I be concerned about where your allegiances lie?"

            Harry snapped his head back toward Nemo. "Voldemort killed my parents, sir," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "And his Deatheaters have tried to destroy everything I've ever loved. You may rest assured that I will forever be against them."

            "Duly noted. Well, I think that answers all of my questions on this matter. Now," he said, clapping his hands together in emphasis. "Back to work. I noticed that you seem to have mastered the aquatic version of the Concussion Curse. Let's see how you fair on dry land."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  

            Harry awoke in darkness. For a moment, he thought he was in the dormitory, in his own bed. The pain that wracked his body conferred with the image in front of his eyes – he was back in the hospital wing. He beat his fist into the mattress in frustration.

            The room was empty except for himself. He reached over to the nightstand beside his bed and turned on the lamp. He located a glass of water and drank it down. On the ground beside his bed he found his satchel and wand. He pulled out the book that Professor Nemo had given him for their training sessions, and set to work. He committed the Aegis Charm – the best spell for deflecting the Concussion Curse – and practiced the corresponding wand motion over and over.

            "What the bloody hell is that?"

            Harry looked up in alarm, startled to find that he was no longer alone. The door to the hospital wing was hanging open. In the doorway, wearing all black, was the slender frame of Pansy Parkinson. Her pale face was the only easily visible part of her, reflecting the soft moonlight.

            "The Aegis Charm," he answered. He gave her a broad smile. He found that he was rather glad to see her.

            "Never heard of it," she stated.

            "No, I'd guess not," he mumbled. "You can come in, you know?"

            "You sure? You seem kind of busy," she said playfully.

            Harry smiled. "Please come in?" He gestured to the bed next to his.

            "Suit yourself," she said, laughing. She crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps and took a seat on his bed next to him.

            "So, you're out late," Harry observed. "At least I think you are. What time is it, anyway?"

            Pansy shrugged. "Pushing two am, I think. You know what? It's a lot easier to sneak out of your common room once all the doors have been pulled off the hinges."

            Harry laughed; then winced at the pain. "I imagine. So, what are you doing here?"

            "I can always leave…"

            "No, I didn't mean it like that."

            "Oh. So you just wanted me to tell you that I came all this way in the middle of the night just to see you?"

            Harry blushed. "Something like that."

            "Well, tough luck," she quipped. "I came here to steal medical supplies."

            "Oh yeah?"

            "Yeah! I'm going to steal some tranquilizer potions and head over to a late-night party with the Ravenclaws. You want to go?"

            "I think I'll pass," Harry said. He scarcely felt like he were capable of walking.

            "So, tell me more about this, uh, what-you-call-it? Eegit Charm?"

            "Aegis Charm. It's a protection spell," Harry said, feeling rather sheepish. "Sort of a, well, higher level Defense spell."

            Pansy nodded, maintaining close eye contact with Harry. "Looks like you could use it."

            Harry blushed. "Yeah."

            "Did you have another one of those accidents?" she asked. "Seems like you're spending a lot of time in here."

            Harry closed his eyes. "Yeah."

            "I had to dig all by myself today," Pansy went on. "Funny thing. I never realized how unpleasant the work was until today."

            Harry smiled weakly at her.

            "Why are you studying advanced Defense, Harry?" Pansy asked.

            Harry could tell by the tone of her voice that he would not be able to dance around it any longer. This was the part where he had to tell her that he did not want to talk about it, or that it was none of her business, or at least make up a lie. He could not find any of those words.

            "Are you taking up a particularly dangerous summer job?" Pansy asked, in a joking but insistent voice.

            "Sort of. I mean, the timeline isn't really clear, but I'm getting ready for something pretty dangerous."

            "Oh yeah?"

            "Pansy…" Harry began. "Look, you've got to stop and ask yourself something. Do you really want to know? I will tell you, but… first of all, it isn't pretty."

            "Trying being in the same house with Draco Malfoy," Pansy quipped.

            Harry smiled, took a breath and went on. "If this is just idle curiosity, then-"

            "It isn't," she cut him off. "I want to know."

            Harry hesitated.

            "I'm worried about you, Harry."

            The words seemed to be difficult for her. Harry looked into her eyes, and saw a wealth of emotion in them. "Okay. You cannot tell anyone about this, Pansy."

            "No problem."

            "Seriously, though… there are people who would kill for this information. In fact, somebody already died for it." Harry felt a tug in his throat at the memory of Sirius Black. "I… haven't told anybody about this. Not even Ron or Hermione."

            Pansy's face registered surprise. "Wow. I swear, a girl gives you just one little kiss and you're willing to bare your soul."

            Harry laughed nervously. "I trust you, Pansy. I don't know why, but I do."

            "Are you sure? Don't you know that I'm a-" Pansy looked around quickly. The hospital wing was deathly still. "Slytherin?" she whispered.

            "This isn't a time for jokes, Pansy," Harry said quietly. "If you want to know, then I will tell you."

            Pansy finally picked up on the solemnity of his voice. "Okay, Harry. I want to know."

            "Before I was born, a Prophecy was made that… the person who could destroy The Dark Lord would be born soon, to parents that had thrice defied him. The time of the birth was given… well, it's pretty clear that the prophecy was talking about me," Harry said quietly but deliberately.

            "Well, you almost did it, right?"

            "Yeah, but there's more. It also said that, well, that neither can live while the other survives. One of us must die at the hands of the other."

            Pansy said nothing, but Harry could tell by the look on her face that she would not be cracking any more jokes for awhile.

            "I am, apparently, the only one who can kill Voldemort. And so, in addition to my classes, I am training with Professor Nemo to fight him. The training isn't easy, in fact it's pretty dangerous in places, which is why I'm here."

            "So, what you're saying is that you have the world on you shoulders?"

            "Pretty much."

            "That sucks."

            "Pretty much."

            "Well, that explains a lot, anyway," she said quietly.

            "Yeah, I'll bet," Harry mumbled. Confusing emotions welled up inside of him, and he was seized by the immediate desire to set them straight. "Pansy…"
            "Yeah?"

            "What are we doing?" he asked, giving her a meaningful look.

            Pansy brightened, prepared to deliver another witty retort. Seeing Harry's face, she stopped. "So, you want to have one of those… Defining the Relationship' talks, huh?"

            "I guess so."

            "Let's not and say we did," Pansy told him.

            "Huh?"

            "It's just that… I hate to give it a name. Kills things, generally speaking. It's too early to be talking about titles and commitments and all that junk."

            "Okay…"

            "I like you Harry, and you like me, and I hope that's enough for you," she said.

            Harry pondered it. "I guess so."

            "Good," Pansy declared. "Guess what, Scarhead?"

            "What?" he asked, his curiosity peaked.

            "I'm going to kiss you now!"

            Before Harry could even assent, Pansy had thrown both of her arms around his neck and planted a sloppy buss on his lips. She pulled back a couple of inches and smiled at him winningly.

            "You're nuts, Parkinson," he said quietly.

            Her smile faltered; she pondered. "Yeah, I could see that."

            Harry put his hand behind her head and kissed her tenderly. After a moment, Harry was surprised to find a second tongue in his mouth. Playfully it romped about the inside of his mouth, at length finding his own tongue. She prodded him, tongue to tongue, for a moment – as if challenging him to some sort of oral duel.

            Pansy pulled apart again. "You ever been French kissed before?" she asked.

            Harry blushed crimson. "No, I guess not."

            "I figured. Well, we'll have to teach you a thing or two sometime."

            Harry found he was no longer able to look her in the eyes.

            "Ah, don't be like that," she said softly. "It's sorta endearing, in a way."

            Harry laughed.

            "But alright, sweetie, I have to go back to bed now, and I'm sure you could use your rest as well."

            Harry nodded, thinking to himself that her leaving was the last thing he wanted just then.

            "Good night, Harry," she said, kissing him once more.

            "Good night, Pansy."

            In a whirl she was off of his bed and out the door.

            Harry shook his head, a feeling of joy rising up inside of him.

            "Oh, and Potter?" Pansy had stuck her head back inside of the hospital wing.

            "Yeah?"

            "You don't have to worry," she said, her voice grave. "I will always keep your secret."

            "Thank you."