Disclaimer: I own nothing. – Except for the plot.
Authors Note: You guys are so sweet! Thank you for all the reviews, they really mean a lot to me. I only posted this story on a whim and wasn't really planning on continuing it but you lot made me change my mind and I now planning on sticking to this story until its conclusion. Sorry if this chapter is kind of late by my sister ended up in the hospital and I had a few projects for school. As much as I would like to thank everyone separately I can't. I really don't want the Author's Notes longer than the actual chapter! So what I'm going to do is answer the questions posed in various reviews.
Snape – Yes, he's setting off Harry's slayer senses but if you think I'm giving away half the plot you've got another thing coming! I'll give you a hint though – he's not evil, at least not completely. And no, he's not going to tell Harry anything.
Dumbledore – Yes, I know I'm making him kind of unlikeable but it's all for the plot! And as for whether he's going to do something to Harry, read and find out!
Angelus – He's going to be a major thorn in Harry's side. The poor boy won't know what hit him!
The Prophecy – Very important but my lips are sealed.
Ethan Rayne is going to cause problems. BIG problems. Watch out for him.
Ron and Hermione finding out? As of yet I am undecided. As for sword fighting.... who knows?
On another note, two reviews mentioned some similarities between my story and a fic called, "The Mirror of Maybe" which I have never read. I have duly checked it out though – It's really cool by the way – and my story will not be heading anywhere in that direction. And also, I just want to point out that Kings Cross Station wouldn't have a lot of safe apparition spots for Harry. Only the bathroom or a broom closet. I chose the more plausible version. I hope that straightens everything out! Again, big thanks are extended to all who reviewed. Please continue doing so!
Chapter 3:
It was well after midnight, and darkness covered most of Hogwarts like a thick impenetrable blanket. A stream of silver light from the crescent moon provided just enough light for Harry to see, his keen eyes easily piercing through the shadows of the deserted rooms and corridors. He was deep within the bowels of Hogwarts, in an old, disused classroom in an out of the way part of the dungeons. He knew he ran the risk of Snape or one of the Slytherins catching him but this was the one of the safest places to brew the animagus potion. He had set up several temporary warding charms and that protection would have to suffice.
Shifting his copy of Most Potente Potions, he re-read the instructions, making sure he had followed them correctly. The potion required that it be brewed during the time that the muggles called the 'Witching Hours' – after midnight but before the dawn. It was an unusual clause but the potion was immensely complex to brew.
He would be dead on his feet tomorrow but he was determined to see this through. He needed the advantage that an animagus form would give him. He had realised that Voldemort would be a bigger enemy than he had first suspected and he had resolved to take all the measures he could to prepare them for their next encounter. He had barely escaped with his life after the TriWizard Tournament and he had nearly lost their duel last year. Both times, he'd survived due to pure luck. He couldn't, wouldn't rely on that anymore. The Dark Lord had proven to be stronger than anyone had ever believed, fully capable of using wandless magic instead of risking Priori Encanteum. Harry hadn't had that luxury at the time and his seeker reflexes were often the only things that had stopped him from being hit with some of Voldemort's curses. The Unforgivables being his favourites, especially Cruciatus, considering the other two didn't work too well on Harry.
He turned his attention back to the simmering potion, it was nearly ready and it had acquired a translucent look to it. He had had to buy most of the ingredients at Knockturn Alley since the potion wasn't exactly legal. With the Ministry clamping down on unregistered animagi, all information regarding the coveted animagus transformation had been locked away. Of course, the restricted section had quite the selection of books on the subject and Harry had no doubt as to where his father had gotten his knowledge about it.
He, on the other hand, had preferred to get them in Knockturn Alley. That way he could look at them whenever he pleased without worrying about Madame Pince noticing that some of her precious tomes were missing. That woman guarded her books with all the ferocity of a dragon protecting its horde of treasure. Unpleasant to say the least. The woman may not have been able to breathe fire but she had a scathing tongue that could quickly cut you down to the size of a flobberworm.
Cancelling the fire spell that he had used to heat the cauldron, he cast a cooling charm and ladled some into a goblet. The animagus potion was supposed to show you your ideal animagus form – but only if you had the ability to become one. It was designed to match your personality traits with the animal best suited to them and it was the only way to know what you would turn into. Picking up the goblet, he looked dubiously at the bluey-grey liquid. It didn't exactly look appealing. He quickly gulped it down, nose wrinkling at the taste and waited to see if anything would happen.
A strange woozy feeling overtook him, his head spinning as the potion worked through his system. He felt as if someone was picking at his brain with a very sharp toothpick – several of them in fact. A dull yellow glow surrounded his right hand and it rose involuntarily so that the palm of his hand was facing the wall. The light grew and formed a beam that hit the wall, a blurry shape beginning to coalesce inside it. The shape grew more and more distinct until Harry could make it out with crystal clear clarity.
Pitch black fur, emerald green eyes that were an exact replica of his own and a jagged scar over one eye, a faded grey line that resembled his famous lightning bolt. A memory of his fight with Drusilla came back to him and he didn't know whether to laugh or groan. 'Kitten' indeed! It seemed his animagus form was a cat. The crazy vampiress had actually been right!
Before he could ponder the irony of her words, the image began to change instead of fading away as the book had said it would. The illusion morphed into that of a snake, a few feet in length with shimmering greeny-black scales, deadly fangs and again bright green eyes. That damn scar was there too. It didn't seem to matter what creature he was, he still had it. He'd never heard of this happening before. Two animagus forms? Was such a thing even possible?
As he was mulling over that, the shape changed to that of something that looked like a.... snitch? Wait a minute! It was a snidget! He'd read about them. A tiny little bird, with a very long, thin beak and jewel-like eyes. It was also completely round. It really did look remarkably like the Golden Snitch he regularly chased around the Quidditch pitch.
The changes didn't stop there though and continued on while Harry watched, wondering if it really was too late and he was dreaming. Next came a dragon, one that was uncomfortably familiar to him. Say hello to the Hungarian Horntail, he thought morosely. Maybe the potion was faulty? No, he knew it was right, it just didn't explain this and his weary brain wasn't exactly coming up with anything convincing at this point in time.
The Horntail, the most dangerous of all dragon breeds had black scales, a lizard-like appearance, green eyes, bronze horns and matching bronze spikes that stuck out from its long tail. He recalled the fire breathing capabilities of the Horntail he had gotten past during the TriWizard Tournament and decided that maybe this form wouldn't be a bad thing, even if it was a little on the big side – as well as being hard to hide.
A black panther and a stunning Phoenix followed up the dragon and the light then winked out. His hand dropped to his side but otherwise he stood shock-still. He always had to be different, didn't he? And exactly what form was he going to concentrate on first? He quickly checked one of his books on animagi and it said nothing about multiple forms. Was this a bad reflection on his personality? He wasn't quite sure. Still, common sense dictated that he could do nothing tonight and would have to hit the books tomorrow. It was past five a.m and he badly needed some sleep. He'd just have to agonize over it later.
~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*
He woke to that blasted alarm clock again, its piercing wail making his head pound painfully. He glared at it and it burst into flame, falling to ashes within seconds. Ah, blessed peace, he thought as he rolled over. He was exhausted, who cared if he missed classes? Closing his eyes, he let sleep claim him once more.
~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~
In the Great Hall, several pairs of eyes were scouting for Harry but came up empty. He hadn't shown up to breakfast and nobody had seen him. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, his hold was slipping. It was time to put his plans into action.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*
Heaving a great sigh, Harry closed the book and set it on top of the ever-growing pile on the table. He'd looked everywhere for that blasted crimson aura and found nothing! It was driving him insane! And at this point, research of any kind was wearing thin. Restless energy coursed through him, he was too hyped up, he would probably have to patrol tonight. If only to stop him from bouncing off the walls.
Worse still, he had found nothing about his rather unique animagus.... animagi? transformations and his patience was wearing thin. He had woken up a little before lunch and had avoided going to the Great Hall in favour of the library. He had stopped by the kitchens on the way and gotten some food from the house elves. Of course, he'd had to phrase his request very carefully. One wrong word and they'd have given him enough food to feed his entire house!
He'd snuck it – and himself – past Madame Pince under his invisibility cloak and had settled into a secluded area of the library, setting proximity spells to warn him of anyone approaching. He had blown off a whole days classes and he doubted that any of his teachers would be happy with him.
He had been intensely curious about Snape's highly unusual characteristic. Merlin knows it was time that he found some dirt on the man. Besides knowing that Snape was a spy against Voldemort, he knew almost nothing about the man's personal life and everybody knew that's where the blackmailing material was.
Still, it looked like his curiosity would have to remain unsated for a little while longer. The books in the castle – including the restricted section – had been tapped out. None dealt with the in depth aura analysis he needed. He hoped Hedwig was up for a flight; he would have to ask Tara to send him something. He knew that something was up with Snape, he just needed to know what. Snape's hatred of him wasn't any secret and Harry firmly believed in the muggle saying, 'Know your enemies'. He really didn't want anything unexpected to creep up on him, it was bad enough with Voldemort trying to do it every bloody year.
He seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time in the library for one reason or another. It was bound to be noticed eventually but what could he do? Somehow, he didn't see old Dumblebore volunteering any information. Officially stumped, he was at a loss as to what to do. He scrawled a quick request to Tara and stuffed it in his pocket to give to Hedwig later.
It was fairly short and to the point, he wasn't exactly in the mood for meaningless pleasantries today.
Tara,
I need help. I need you to send me all the information on auras that you've got – especially crimson ones. Someone at school has got me on edge and I'd really like to rule out the possibility of them trying to kill me. Please send me something soon; this whole scenario's making me stir crazy.
Harry.
Deciding that he'd spent too much time already with his head buried in a stack of books, he went to find an empty classroom where he could practice his training. He was frustrated, irritable and altogether not looking forward to the dressing down he was bound to receive from his professors tomorrow. It was time to blow off some steam before he inadvertently damaged something – like Malfoy again. He really didn't another detention or worse yet – an audience with the headmaster. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to restrain himself from forcibly taking whatever information the man was hiding from him. And for some reason he really couldn't bring himself to care if he did or not.
~*~*~**~**~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*
Voldemort absently petted Nagini as he pondered over a particularly difficult – and stubborn – problem, one that went by the name of Harry Potter. The dratted boy just had to try and ruin every single plan he made, he wasn't sure how he was doing it but it was getting damn annoying. Unfortunately for him, the boy was powerful and would probably grow stronger still. He couldn't bear for such a waste of power but neither could he bear to contend against such an enemy. Even Dumbledore had never caused him so much trouble and nobody else had ever come so close to killing him.
Potter couldn't be allowed to run loose; he had to be brought under control. But how? He had several of his top Death Eaters looking into possible solutions and he had investigated some other promising ideas himself.
There was one particularly delicious idea that appealed to him but did he have to time to wait for everything to fall into place? There was only one way to find out.
"WORMTAIL!!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*
Harry relentlessly pummelled the conjured dummy. He had enchanted it to fight back but it wasn't a very good substitute for a real live demon. He had holed himself up in the room where he had brewed the animagus potion before and had again magically warded it. While he had to be careful about his patrolling excursions – namely he couldn't get caught, that didn't mean he could afford to let himself get out of shape. Of course he wasn't really sure a slayer could get out of shape but that was no excuse for not training. He couldn't rely on magic forever and he had to admit to a certain satisfaction that came with beating up the bad guys. He totally agreed with what Buffy had once said, "Kicking ass is comfort food." It was really good for getting out all your anger whilst doing your job.
After all, with Angelus apparently after his ass, he really couldn't afford to get sloppy. If the legends were true, the Scourge of Europe was not someone to mess around with. Not that that put Harry off any, Voldemort was kind of hard to live up too.
Both Buffy and Wesley had agreed that his strengths as a slayer lay in his speed, accuracy and instincts. Thanks to his training as Seeker and the already honed reflexes he had as a result of it, his speed was unreal even for a slayer. He had been informed that when he really got going it was even hard to make him out as a blur. They had said that he was more like a draught of wind, swift and impossible to see until it hit you. His instincts were also top notch thanks to five years of having to dodge Voldemort's curses and another ten-plus years with the Dursleys.
He was hoping that instinct would extend to his animagus training. He needed full use of his forms as soon as possible. While he was sparring with the dummy, he had decided to try for his cat form first as it was the least noticeable and he'd be able to pass for some student's pet, granting him unlimited access to any of the four houses' common rooms. It was a very Slytherin-esque plan he had to admit.
Conjuring a soft rug, he sat down Indian-style on the floor and concentrated on changing into his animal. He felt a slight tingling in his fingers and opened his eyes to study his new... claws? They looked really strange considering his hand was its normal size and the claws looked really out of proportion compared to it.
The secret of the animagus transformation was all in your head, you had to have the strength of will to force your body to change form without spells or wands. That was why so few witches and wizards succeeded. You had to be very focused and very determined. It still rankled him that Wormtail had managed to do it, even if he only changed into a rat. It meant that Pettigrew hadn't been as stupid as previously thought.
Determinedly, he thought about his cat form, visualising every detail and slowly, slowly he began to change, bones and muscle twisting and reforming into their new shape. When he opened his eyes again, he found that everything was a lot bigger than it had been earlier and that he was now a lot closer to the ground.
Stretching luxuriously, he spent a good fifteen minutes getting used to his new body and prowling around the room. He sincerely hoped that Sirius would never give in to any dog-like urges if he was in the vicinity, even if his godfather didn't know about his attempt to follow in his father's footsteps. Once satisfied that he could control his cat-self, he decided to try out some of his other forms. He spent a good few hours getting used to them, morphing into everything except Hungarian Horntail Harry. He seriously doubted that his dragon form would fit in any room in the castle.
He didn't even notice the passage of time until he caught sight of his watch. Immediately he started swearing and he hurriedly scooped up his things, dismantling the wards and rushing out the door. He was going to be late for Quidditch practice and he was supposed to be the captain! He ran to the Quidditch pitch in a normal human speed, just in case anybody could see him, transfiguring his school robes into his Quidditch robes and summoning his broom.
His Firebolt zoomed into his hand just as he stepped into the locker rooms to face his six team mates. One of whom was glaring daggers at him, one watching his every move and the other four were clearly terrified. He sighed, having a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to go well at all.
Most of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had graduated last year so the reserve players had moved onto the official team. Replacing the Weasley twins as Beaters were Seamus Finnegan and a fourth year called Marcus Ashford. Moving into the Chaser positions were Ginny Weasley, Colin Creevey and Dean Thomas. Ron was still playing Keeper.
"Alright then," he started, "Let's go and practice some of the basic manoeuvres, okay? I'll let the balls out."
They reluctantly followed his orders, though he was still aware of Ron's angry gaze boring holes into his back. If looks could kill...
~*~*~*~*~**~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~
After an exhausting Quidditch practice, Ron cleaned up and met Hermione in her room. They had agreed to discuss Harry's behaviour away from a dorm full of curious ears. Muttering a greeting to his friend, he flung himself into a chair by the fireplace, sighing as his weary muscles got a chance to relax. Harry had really been a taskmaster during practice, even more so than Oliver Wood had been during his years at Hogwarts.
Hermione handed him a Butterbeer from goodness knows where and he gratefully exclaimed his thanks before attacking the warm drink, draining a quarter of it in one gulp. "You're a lifesaver 'Mione."
"Now that you seem more awake, perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?" she asked, looking at him pointedly.
"Right then," he agreed, "Harry's being a jerk. What are we supposed to do about it?"
"Ron! It could be something serious like You-Know-Who!"
The redhead rolled his eyes, "Or more likely, the fame's gone to his head. At the moment, he's in more danger of becoming the next Dark Lord than getting killed by him."
Hermione glared at him, hands on her hips, doing a very good impression of Professor McGonagall. "No matter what it is, things can't just continue as they are."
"And this concerns us how? Harry made it perfectly clear that he wants nothing to do with us anymore. If he wants to go off and be that way, what do I care? He even called you a Mudblood! Do you really want to patch things up with him?"
Her nose scrunched up in thought, "What I want is the old Harry back. Not the Harry that's wandering about now."
"That Harry's long gone 'Mione. He's been changing ever since fourth year. For Merlin's sake, Malfoy knows more about the night of the Third Task than we do! Harry never bothered to tell us his version did he? For all we know, Harry could have killed Cedric!"
"But You-Know-Who did come back! He came so close to getting Hogwarts last term! Harry was the only one that could hold him off! Even Dumbledore couldn't!" she cried, sinking into the chair opposite Ron.
"What are you trying to say?"
"What I'm trying to say is that Harry has to defeat the Dark Lord! Or else it'll be like before He fell – everybody running around scared to death of him, Death Eaters killing Squibs and Muggle-borns.... If He doesn't fall..." her voice broke, "I-I don't want to die Ron."
Ron moved off his chair and went over to comfort her, wrapping his long arms around her and holding her close. "You're not going to die 'Mione," he said firmly. "It was only pure luck that You-Know-Who got in here last year. He probably had someone helping him out on the inside and Dumbledore will have taken care of that. Hogwarts has never fallen. That was the first time the Dark Lord ever dared to attack. He's afraid of Dumbledore, he is."
Hermione sniffled and snuggled closer to the illusion of safety, "But he didn't seem afraid last term..."
"Pure luck 'Mione, it was only pure luck. The Ministry's doing all it can and the aurors are there to take care of the Death Eaters. We won't have to worry about the school again."
"It still doesn't take care of our little problem."
"What? Harry? He's not our problem anymore. If he's going to act like Malfoy then good riddance to him. We don't have to put up with that kind of treatment from anybody."
"We still have to keep an eye on him though," she insisted.
"Haven't you been listening to a word I've said?"
"No, I have! It's just he used an awful lot of Dark Magic last term Ron; he's probably learned even more. I don't think we can trust him anymore. For all we know he could have switched sides and gone to You-Know-Who. I mean he had to have learned it from somewhere but that still doesn't make any sense because they were trying to kill each other a few months ago!"
"You're saying that we should what? Spy on him?"
"Exactly."
"'Mione are you mad?! He's dangerous!"
"Precisely why we should be keeping an eye on him. We don't want to be blindsided do we? I know we told Professor Dumbledore but there's something so strange about Harry. There has been ever since he came back from summer holidays. He's not just distant like he was last year, it's like he's a caged animal or something, just waiting to get out."
"I think you're making too much of things. Simply put, Harry is acting like a complete prat, and we know he's a dangerous prat. So the less we have to do with the likes of him the better."
"Ron!"
"Listen I'm not saying we shouldn't watch him, just that we shouldn't get ourselves blown up doing it, okay?"
Hermione nodded and they sat in comfortable silence for a long while.
~*~*~**~*~*~**~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*
Snape's POVHe had to resist the urge to drum his fingers on the edge of his chair. Merlin how he hated staff meetings! It was only a little over a week into the term, couldn't they at least have waited until the end of the month? Of course, Albus wouldn't allow him to conveniently 'forget' about the dratted meeting and had personally escorted him up to the staff lounge.
He was thoroughly bored, Filch's complaints and Trelawney's mutterings held no interest for him. He refused to be baited into an argument with Minerva. It wasn't as if he didn't know who'd win the bloody Quidditch cup! What else could he expect with a Malfoy as Seeker? Granted, the boy wasn't as bad as his father had been, he was worse! So once again Gryffindor would win and he'd have to listen to Minerva's gloating. And with that Chang girl giving up Quidditch to study for her NEWTs, Ravenclaw had to train a new seeker. Well, at least Slytherin wouldn't come last.
He perked up when Albus stood, hoping the torture was over but alas, apparently it was only beginning....
"Now," the headmaster began cheerily, "I believe that with the success of the Yule Ball the last two years, we should introduce another at Halloween. A chorus of mutterings sounded through the room, with various teachers asking questions and wondering particulars. He snorted lightly, trust Albus to come up with the idea. A party on the anniversary of the Dark Lord's fall, a time when he would surely be planning something spectacular to boost his ego. A ball would get his goat in a way that only Albus could manage.
After Harry Potter's remarkable achievements on that holiday, Severus suspected that Voldemort rather lacked any appreciation for the Halloween festivities.
Albus seemed pleased with the faculty's responses overall and clapped his hands together delightedly. "Fantastic! Now who shall we put in charge of the decorations and the entertainment?"
"How about the Prefects, Albus?" Juliet Sinistra suggested. "I'm sure they'd be able to manage it."
"An excellent idea!" Albus agreed happily. Did the man have to be so disgustingly cheerful? Severus thought sourly.
Ethan Rayne spoke up from his position sprawled across a chair in the corner, "And to make it more entertaining, how about making it a costume ball? It is supposed to be for Halloween after all. I daresay that the students would get a kick out of it."
Albus looked happier still if such a thing was possible. Severus made a mental note to poison Rayne. He knew Albus and dreaded what would inevitably be coming next.
"A splendid suggestion! We'll announce it to the students tomorrow. I think as it is to be for Halloween, we shall allow all years to attend." He paused, "Of course, all teachers must attend as well." There it was, his sentence of doom. Severus was glad to see that he wasn't the only one not looking forward to having to dress up.
"That's settled then. Any other matters to take care of?" the headmaster asked, knowing very well that the meeting was nowhere near finished yet. Minerva took it upon herself to speak up, "There have been several complaints about Harry Potter. He seems to be turning into a juvenile delinquent; skipping classes, not turning in work, not wearing the proper uniform and hexing other students!"
Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully; "I have had a talk with Miss Granger and Mr Weasley as well. They are most concerned, as am I."
Severus resisted the urge to guffaw, Albus Dumbledore concerned over a student's grades? He didn't think so. More like concerned over a certain students power levels.
Minerva continued where she had left off, "This is not acceptable behaviour. Even with all that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it's no excuse! I recommend that we strip him of his Prefect's badge."
There were several agreements from other teachers who had been on the receiving end of Harry's behaviour. Severus simply smirked, did they really think that Harry gave a damn whether they let him keep his badge or not?
"I think that's a little rash Minerva," Albus said soothingly, "It is only the start of term. He should only be issued a warning at this stage. With the tests coming up so soon... perhaps it would be best to wait until we see his results before meting out such a drastic punishment?"
Her lips thinned but she wouldn't go against the headmaster, "As you wish Albus."
"Though a talk with him may not go amiss? There may be something troubling him that is affecting his behaviour."
"I'll deal with it," she said. Albus nodded and looked around the lounge questioningly. "Anything else?" There was no answer. "Alright then. You were briefed on the tests over the summer so we won't go into any detail on them yet. That can wait for a few weeks. Meeting adjourned!"
Severus was one of the first out of the door; long stride carrying him swiftly to the dungeons. Blasted Dumbledore! Now he had to figure out what he was going to wear for that bloody ball! He had a feeling that Albus wouldn't let him get away with his normal attire, though it seemed to do such a good job of intimidating the students. Growling under his breath, he stormed into his quarters, how he hated staff meetings!
~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*
Harry looked up curiously as Dumbledore called for silence. "Students!" he exclaimed, "I have some wonderful news! Due to the success of past ventures, a Halloween Costume ball will be held this year. It is open to all years and the only stipulation is that you must wear a costume! There will be a prize for the best one!" He had to stop there as the volume in the hall increased, the majority of the students expressing their delight at the idea. Harry's eyes dropped to his plate. His dinner suddenly looked less appetising. He really would have to keep an eye on Ethan. Many of the man's exploits had taken place at Halloween and the innocent face he was currently wearing wasn't exactly reassuring.
The headmaster cleared his throat and the noise died down slowly, "Now the Prefects will be in charge of the decoration and entertainment, with the Head Boy and Girl responsible for the music so there will be a Prefects meeting tonight at seven o'clock! All ideas must be approved by a professor before implementation!" He sat down and continued to eat his dinner as the Prefects gasped in surprise. Harry groaned, it was going to be a lot of work. And knowing the various houses, it would probably take them a few weeks to even agree on a design theme. More shouting matches with Malfoy. Oh joy.
~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~**~**~*~*~*
Harry's dreams abruptly went from blissful blackness to acute agony. Ever muscle in his body had seized up from the intense pain flooding through his body. His head felt like it was about to crack open any second now and it was all he could do to curl into a foetal position in the bed, sweat beading on his skin.
The vision took him over and he had no choice but to watch.
^^^^^^ Dream Sequence ^^^^^^^^^
Screams filled the air, penetrating the thick smoke from the fire. The house was burning, he could see it, orange-red flames shooting into the sky, creating an eerie light where they met the Dark Mark floating above the roof.
Three figures lay on the ground, writhing under the Cruciatus curse. About a dozen Death Eaters were grouped around the place, some performing the torture, others disfiguring the land. There would be no doubts about who had caused it when the aurors arrived. And in the middle of it, swathed in black robes, red eyes glinting out of a skeletal face stood Voldemort, surveying the proceedings with a cruel smile.
There was a flash of green light and another flash of pain ignited his scar. One of the unnamed figures had been killed. Walking closer, he got a look at their faces. He didn't recognise them but he did feel a flash of sympathy for them. They would be dead by morning, one already was. The eldest, an old woman in a flannel nightdress had been the victim of the Killing Curse. The remaining two were younger, maybe mid-forties – it was always hard to tell in the wizarding world. They had screamed themselves hoarse and were now whimpering as their muscles twitched and spasmed. The Cruciatus in Harry's opinion was the perhaps the worst of the Unforgivables, at least Avada Kedavra was quick.
Judging by the fact that Voldemort remained aloof, this obviously wasn't an important target. More than likely, it was just some fun for his Death Eaters. How nice. He was once again stuck on the sidelines, unable to do anything. If he hadn't liked staying idle before, then it had gotten worse since he had become the slayer. He really wished there was something he could do, or someone he could pummel but he had less substance than a ghost in these visions. All he ended up with was memories he didn't want and a very painful scar – or body in this case.
He couldn't glean any useful information from this vision and the lack of knowledge frustrated him. Before Voldemort's second rising, he had only been dragged into the most important scenes. Nowadays he was getting pulled into them every night and the pain was becoming increasingly worse as they became more and more frequent. Finally, he was allowed escape from its clutches, back into the real world, where his own brand of horrors awaited him.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
It was worse than crucio, worse than any pain he had experienced and he had experienced a lot. The pain probably would have driven him mad if he hadn't been the slayer. He didn't know how long he lay there, jaw clenched tightly shut - time had blurred into a never-ending haze of pain – when help came. A warm, soft something curled up beside him and almost immediately the pain started to lessen. Heat radiated through his muscles, soothing them and making the pain go away. A comforting, calming trill started up, and gradually, his tense form relaxed. The extreme agony faded into a dull soreness that he could deal with; a few general healing potions from his stores would take care of it.
He was exhausted, mentally and physically but curiosity out won the need for rest and he forced his eyes open. The strange song was still playing and he could now see its source. A glittering golden tail, red and gold plumage, a small head, delicate neck and black eyes. A phoenix or more precisely, Fawkes.
"What?" he gasped, his mouth drier than a desert from holding his screams in.
The majestic bird trilled at him and nuzzled its head against his neck. Harry's puzzlement increased, wasn't the bird supposed to be loyal to Dumbledore? Fawkes trilled at him again, this time almost demandingly and batted him with a wing. Harry thought he was trying to tell him something but how was he supposed to understand phoenix talk? – Wait a minute, he was a colossal idiot! One of his animagi forms was a phoenix! That spoke highly of his intelligence.
Body protesting at every movement, he sat up and morphed into his phoenix form. Fawkes trilled happily and Harry found that he could understand him now. ~Are you alright Fledgling?~
Harry blinked owlishly for a moment, ~I'm better now. Why did you come? Dumbledore is quickly becoming my enemy. Why help me?~ he asked.
~I do not agree with everything Albus does, especially some of the things concerning you. You are needed to set things right. I sensed it in the Chamber of Secrets.~
~Needed? That still doesn't explain things.~
~I have been here since the Founders themselves. I would not refuse aid to any student loyal to the school.~
~Loyal to the school? How would you know I was loyal? I'm not exactly the biggest fan of the headmaster.~
~But you love the school and would not allow harm to come to it. The slayer does not relinquish their territory easily.~
~Slayer? How in Merlin's name do you know that?!~
~Suffice it to say, a little bird told me.~ the old phoenix said amusedly.
Harry groaned, ~That was a bad pun, a really bad one. Does that mean you're not going to tell me?~
~No hatchling, you will found out in time.~ Fawkes flicked his tail at Harry, ~Get some rest. You need to recover, little Fledgling.~
Harry reluctantly complied; his curiosity peaked and became human once more. He lay down and Fawkes curled up beside him and began to sing a haunting melody. Harry felt his eyes go heavy and within seconds he gave in to his body's demand for sleep.
~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~***
The traditional meeting place for the Prefects was a small lounge a few doors down from the staff room. Rumour had it that some prefects a few decades ago had hosted a huge party inside the old Prefects lounge and it had been going on for hours when they were finally caught. Ever since then, the teachers had made sure that such an incident wasn't going to be repeated. Privately, Harry felt that the unnamed former Prefects had the right idea but it wouldn't really be prudent to say that in front of some of the current ones. Though he had a feeling that Malfoy would agree if a Slytherin proposed it. He went out of his way not to agree with Harry – on anything.
The Head Girl, Cho Chang brought the meeting to order. "Listen up you lot! Professor Dumbledore is expecting us to plan the Halloween ball so we had better start thinking about how we're going to do it and who's going to do what!"
On a whim, Harry spoke up, "I can take care of the decorations," he offered. If he couldn't create a properly spooky atmosphere, who could? Merlin knows he'd been in enough graveyards, tombs and scary places to last anyone a lifetime.
Cho looked at him sternly, "All by yourself? It's a lot of work."
"I can handle it. In fact I've got several ideas for it. I can pretty much guarantee an authentic bloodcurdling atmosphere."
"Okay then, Harry will do the decorating. What about the rest of you? David (The Head Boy) and I are in charge of the music but we still need people to decide about the food and drink. Not to mention we'll need people to put posters up after we decide when it's going to start and how long it's going to be. Somebody will have to make the stage too."
"Slytherin will take care of the stage, Chang." Malfoy drawled coldly. She glared at him but didn't argue. The Hufflepuffs swiftly agreed to cover the food end of things; nobody was willing to let Hermione near the House Elves. They didn't want her encouraging them into a rebellion.
The Ravenclaws agreed to do the posters and Hermione became the liaison with the professors. She'd keep them informed as to how things are going.
"Well that's it then!" David Gothby said, clapping his hands together and standing up. "I think that's everything covered so let's all get back to our dorms. Have plans drawn up in time for the next meeting!" The Prefects shuffled out and scattered back to their various houses. Hermione and Harry walked in an uncomfortable silence the whole way back and it came as a relief to both of them when they separated – Harry to his room and Hermione to the common room.
~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~*~**~*
Like a few nights before, Harry escaped his room via the window, nimbly scaling the walls and darting into the Forbidden Forest. As before he avoided Hagrid, he still cared for the loveable half-giant but he talked too much. It was too easy to trick information out of him, especially if it was someone like Dumbledore trying.
He vanished into the darkness between the vast trees. He had neglected to scout the forest before and he felt that it was high time he discovered what was lurking in its depths.
~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~**~*
At the same time as Harry vaulted out his window, Draco Malfoy activated the portkey that would take him to the Riddle House. His father was surprisingly absent; usually he was here when Draco arrived. Instead, it was Wormtail who was waiting for him.
"Follow me," he snapped, "Our Lord is waiting."
Draco obediently did as he was told; he had learned early on that it wasn't a good thing to keep the Dark Lord waiting.
"Malfoy," he hissed, gesturing towards him, "Come here." Draco stepped forward slowly, kneeling down and kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes as was custom. He remained kneeling with his eyes on the floor until Voldemort deigned to address him.
"I have a job for you," he said, his cold voice sending chills down Draco's spine as Voldemort began pacing the room. He paused at a table and picked up a vial. He turned around, lifting the vial up and letting Draco see its contents. The liquid was silver, like mercury and moved continuously in the bottle. "This young Malfoy," Voldemort murmured, "Is the key to getting rid of the Potter brat. Once placed in food or drink, it is colourless, odourless, and tasteless. Completely undetectable. You will make sure Potter ingests this. At least once everyday. The vial is bottomless, you will never run out."
Draco's breath quickened, "My Lord, how am I supposed to get Potter to take it? He will not accept anything from me."
Voldemort growled in impatience, "And you call yourself a Slytherin?! I know that it will be difficult but you'll manage it if you value your life...." He let the threat hang. The implication was clear. Draco would get the job done or he would die.
"What will it do My Lord?"
The question seemed to please Voldemort, as a twisted smile contorted his features. "It is one of my creations. It shall make Potter lose control of his temper; he won't be able to hold his anger in. All that anger will cause accidental magic to occur. He'll be volatile, unable to stop himself or keep a handle on his magic. Eventually Potter will do something drastic enough to warrant an expulsion and hopefully, a trip to Azkaban. Once he's out from Dumbledore's control, he's fair game. He will either join me as a faithful servant or join his parents in death. I would advise you not to annoy him Malfoy. You are still of use to me."
"Yes My Lord."
Voldemort handed him the vial, "It has an unbreakable charm on it. Do not lose it. Remember the price for failure."
"I will succeed My Lord. I am most honoured to be chosen for this task."
"Just go!"
Draco scurried out, clutching the vial in his hand and activated the portkey to return to Hogwarts as soon as he was outside the house. He carefully out the vial in his pocket before the world spun around him.
~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry exhaustedly made his way to his room. He was worn out from his nightly activities and the fact that he got very little sleep thanks to Voldemort didn't help him any. The forest had been teeming with all sorts of interesting creatures. Let's see, he'd had to defend himself from a pack of werewolves – seemingly they weren't any less rabid on a moonless night than they were when it was full. At least he hoped not, it had taken him nearly half an hour to fight them off and make sure they weren't tracking his scent.
He'd ran into a few vamps, all of whom were now dust and he'd gotten an idea how many other species chose the forest for their home. He'd wanted to steer clear of the Acromantala colony but he'd had to let them know who was the boss. That meeting had gone only slightly better than the one in his second year. While they seemed to get the concept that he was not food, prey or something to go up against, they still hated his guts. Aragog had definitely not welcomed his intrusion but had appeared to understand that Harry would get extremely testy if he didn't agree.
Only those blasted centaurs had been able to evade him. Hagrid had been right, never try and get a straight answer out of one. Then again, it was not like he'd been given any answer. The one centaur he'd seen had scampered off fairly quickly. That meant that he'd have to go back and find them whenever he had time. A lovely night of looking at the stars and trying to decipher every word that came out of their mouths. Gee, why wouldn't he be looking forward to it? The only one who'd ever given him an understandable answer had been Firenze, so he'd just have to find him and hopefully, hopefully get something useful out of him.
The denizens of the wood had been warned. They knew that a slayer was guarding it now and that certain things would not be tolerated. He really didn't care if they decided to host a full-scale war in the forest as long as they left him alone whenever he ventured in and as long as they kept away from the castle and its grounds. He'd made it clear that they would be dead meat if they hurt any of the students or staff, and he wouldn't care if the hounds of hell themselves had chased them out of the forest. They were not to disobey the ground rules.
If they disagreed, they'd have to take it up with him. It was an efficient system as none were going to try anything now. On the other hand, he didn't think he'd run so far in his life as he had tonight. Well, at least he'd gotten plenty of ideas for the Halloween ball. He wondered exactly how scared the partygoers would be when they saw his very realistic decorations. An evil smile creased his face; it was going to be fun. Without a doubt.
~*~**~*~*~**~**~*~**~*~**~**
Angelus walked out of Heathrow Airport, coat hood pulled up to protect him from the rain. It had taken him days to find the identity of Drusilla's killer. He'd eventually found out that it was at the hands of the new slayer, who no one could name or describe. Angelus had pulled some strings, ie, fed on a few people from the Watchers' Council and gotten the information he needed.
Imagine his surprise when he got the details on Slayer Jr. First, it was a boy, sixteen years old and vastly inexperienced compared to myself. Easy pickings or so he'd thought. He'd then found out that said Slayer was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and a wizard, currently studying at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
That had caused a few setbacks; the wards and protections surrounding Hogwarts were legendary. Once he'd found out about a certain professor teaching there though, things had begun to look up. Ethan Rayne might be annoying but he was easily bought and had free reign to wander in and out of the castle as he pleased.
Ethan could get him in, he was sure of it. Also, he didn't think Ethan would turn his nose up at a spot of mischief either. All he had to do was send him a message and ask for a meeting. The wizard's curiosity would take it from there. He wasn't too far from Diagon Alley. He'd get a room nearby and sneak into the post office when it was beginning to get dark. It was far too late to do so now, all the shops would be closed. Well, except for Knockturn Alley but he didn't think they dealt with post owls. He'd probably be able to find a snack there however.
~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~*~*
Firenze looked up towards the sky, echoing the movements of the other centaurs around him. "The heavens are crowded tonight."
"And Mars is bright again," Bane said sorrowfully, "War comes."
"It was decreed many years ago," Dido, a female centaur said, "We have known it was coming but it is only now that things are moving into position."
"Will she be able to handle the burden?" Firenze wondered, "She's so young."
"Not so young in mind." Ronan interjected, "The Potter boy will come soon, seeking answers." He added, changing the subject.
"That he will and he shall receive them. Though when he shall understand them is not ours to say."
"The Lightning shall know what to do. It has been written in prophecy, amongst the stars themselves."
"We shall wait. Time shall unfold the answers," Dido said, lying down in the long grass and making herself comfortable. They always took such a long time debating things. "For now, we rest. We can do no more until he approaches us."
~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*
Harry studied the blade in his hand. Its twin lay on the table in front of him. He had almost forgotten about them and only when he went to get something from the secret compartment in his trunk had he noticed them, still snugly resting in his holsters.
The minute he had set eyes on him, the initial fascination he had felt in Borgin and Burkes had returned full force. Now that he had more time to spend looking at them, he could see that the craftsmanship was absolutely exquisite. Every scale on the snake's body was done in perfect detail. It was a true work of art and the matching dagger was no less grand. The emerald eyes seemed to flicker with a life of their own, eerily reminding him of the carved serpents in the Chamber of Secrets.
Like before, the snake moved, its head rising from its place on the hilt until it was looking directly at Harry. "Massster," it hissed, "What isss your name?"
Harry had been expecting something like this but it was still a bit of a shock, "My name isss Harry," he hissed back, "Why do you call me massster?"
"Becaussse you ssspeak the Ssserpents' Tongue. We have been waiting for you."
"Huh? Waiting for me? What do you mean?" he asked quizzically.
"For many yearsss have I waited to be reclaimed." The little snake answered.
"Reclaimed?"
The other dagger seemed to wake up and flicked its tongue at Harry, "We were lossst and now we have been returned. It hasss been an age sssince we have seen Hogwartsss again."
"You've been here before?"
"Sssalazar created usss here." The first snake answered.
"Sssalazar? Sssalazar Ssslytherin!" Harry exclaimed, oh Merlin, what were the odds?
"Yesss. In hisss chamber. He created many of our kind."
"Really? Many daggersss? Why would he do that?"
"Not daggersss. Sssnakes like usss."
"Why?"
"Becaussse only he could talk to usss. We would never betray Sssalazar."
Harry rubbed a hand across his forehead, hands moving to gently massage his temples. "Okay, ssso he made a lot of you guysss. Where did they all end up and how on earth did I end up with hisss possssessssionsss?!"
"They are in the Chamber, around the ssschool. They are everywhere, put there for the ussse of hisss heirs. We could ssssense you. We knew you can talk to usss."
"Ssso the anssswersss are in the Chamber of Sssecretsss?" Harry asked. The snakes agreed. "I've been down there and there wasss nothing but the Basssilisssk and a lot of ssslime."
"Sssalazar did not leave his worksss in plain view. He hid them, with the Basssilisssk, Aresss as their guardian."
"Aresss?"
"It isss the name of the King of Ssserpentsss."
"Riiiiight."
"Ssseek your anssswersss in the Chamber, young massster." They told him before resuming their previous positions on the dagger and becoming silent once more, leaving Harry to stare at them for a few moments before putting them back into their holsters. Oh, the possibilities such knowledge had! Surely Slytherin would have left something more than weapons down there, perhaps more information on his personal projects and research. Harry was still reading the books he had found, and the spells and facts in them were incredible. But if there was more... Maybe, just maybe Harry could find something to get rid of Voldemort once and for all.
*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ethan paid the owl and untied the roll of parchment from its leg. Who would write to him? Breaking the wax seal on the note, he looked at the flowing, old-fashioned script.
Ethan Rayne,
I have heard that you are teaching at Hogwarts this year. And let's just say that I'm well aware of your reputation, especially in Sunnydale. If I'm right, I'd say that you have a thorn in your side with the title of Vampire Slayer. Namely one Harry Potter.
This Potter staked my childe, now I'd like some payback. Of course as I'm of the demonic variety, gaining entrance to the castle is going to take some work. That's what I need you for. I wish to arrange a meeting in Hogsmeade. You'll be notified as to when.
I'm sure you're aware of my reputation. Don't make me hunt you down and kill you. I do have other business to attend to.
Angelus,
The Scourge of Europe.
Ethan's meal suddenly looked rather unappetising. Why oh why did he have to be roped into this? Although if he played his cards right he just might get some monetary benefit from this. Nah, who was he kidding? He'd consider himself lucky if he got out alive.
*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~*
Harry slid down the pipe, thankfully having remembered to cast a scouring charm before he jumped into the tube. His boots crunched a few skulls and he looked down in distaste. Waving his hand, he made the small skeletons disappear and cast a strong cleaning charm for good measure. If he was going to spend a lot of time here then he may as well make it somewhat presentable.
Reaching the area, where Lockhart caused the cave-in, he repaired it and continued on until he was in the room with the statue of Salazar Slytherin. And suddenly he understood. The Chamber of Secrets was his haven, his sanctuary. It called to him, welcomed him into its protective shelter.
The chamber was surprisingly bare, the corpse of the Basilisk having disappeared. The room had probably been grand once, with its towering stone pillars and carved serpents. He gingerly explored the room, wary of any traps Slytherin may have set for intruders.
He tried a few revealing spells to see if there were any illusions or wards covering a door or something. Nothing happened. Well, scratch that then.
His senses came alert suddenly; there was something in the chamber with him. Turning around slowly, he promptly fell on his rump as he looked into bulbous yellow eyes. A basilisk, the very same basilisk that Harry had stabbed with a sword and killed was looking at him. They had locked eyes and for some unknown reason Harry wasn't dead or petrified. He quickly flipped to his feet and his fest clenched around the stake he had pulled from the waistband of his trousers. If he could take down the giant snake as a scrawny twelve year old, he most certainly could repeat the performance now! Hopefully without Fawkes having to heal him.
Harry took a few steps backwards as the Basilisk came towards him. He really didn't know what to make of this; he knew he had killed it in second year! What in Merlin's name was going on?!
Remembering what the dagger-snake had told him, he hissed at the basilisk. "Aresss. I will not harm you if you do not harm me."
The colossal serpent cocked its head, as if puzzled, "I do not want to harm you young massster."
Harry gaped with his mouth open for a moment before closing it with a snap. "How come your gaze didn't kill me?"
"Becaussse I didn't want it too and becaussse of who you are."
"You mean the ssslayer thing?"
"Partly." Ares answered.
Harry lowered the stake but kept it within easy reach. "I killed you. How can you ssstill be here?" He said, asking the question that was bugging him the most.
"The lassst heir placed protectionsss on me. They knew you would come."
"Voldemort?!"
"He isss not the lassst heir. He isss not even a heir."
"What?!" Surely he couldn't have heard that right.
"The Dark Lord hasss never been Sssalazar'sss heir. The Lady holdsss that title and ssshe isss the lassst." Ares explained.
Harry's mind was reeling. All that time the git wasn't even Slytherin's Heir! Harry had had to put up with all that boasting and it wasn't even true!
Ares slithered forward, "My gaze isss sssafe only for you and any you deem worthy. The Dark Lord controlled an illusssion. I do not follow hisss bidding. My loyalty isss with you."
"Ssso if dear old Voldie is not the heir. Who isss?" He hoped that they weren't the wannabe-ruler-of-the-world type.
"The Lady will reveal herssself to you in time. Ssshe hasss her own agenda and doesss not follow the Dark Lord."
"Why did you only ssshow yourssself now? Wouldn't it have been easssier to tell me all thisss at the beginning? Like in ssssecond year?"
"Would you have believed me?"
"Good point." He thought for a minute, debating over whether or not to trust Ares and finally decided to give him a chance. "Tell me, did Ssslytherin keep anything down here? Sssuch asss booksss or trinketsss?"
Harry could have sworn the basilisk was smirking at him, if snakes could smirk. "He did but you will not find them yet. The time isss not yet right."
"And when will it be right?" Harry snapped irritably.
"You'll know when it isss young massster." Ares hissed, already slithering away into the depths of the chamber. "You will know."
"Well, that was helpful," Harry muttered and then caught sight of the time. Damn it! He was going to be late for Divination if he didn't hurry up, and after getting up extra early and all! He stalked off and from the shadows, two sets of eyes watched...
~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~~
Trelawney hadn't changed much. She still burned too much incense, overdid the dramatics and kept on predicting his death. Of course, the rumours floating around the school gave her ample inspiration and now his imminent turning to the dark side was another of her favourite 'predictions', if they could laughingly be termed that.
He sank back into the large chintz armchair at the back of the room, intent on getting in a nap instead of listening to Professor I-Am-A-Fake Trelawney ramble on. The Gryffindors had class with the Slytherins this year, much to his housemates' disgust. Harry didn't really mind as long as they left him alone. After his summer activities he had a whole new set of ideas for gruesome deaths. Trelawney'd be pleased at any rate.
He could skate by without too much trouble so he was content to relax and use the time to scheme. Knowing Trelawney, he could pass off any glazed look he might acquire as a form of Divination. Mention anything bloody with a high body count and she was in ecstasy.
From across the room, Draco Malfoy discreetly kept his eyes locked on the infamous Boy-Who-Lived. This was his one chance to carry out his Master's orders but if Potter caught wind of what he was doing, he wasn't quite sure he'd make it out alive. The now not so Golden boy had developed a serious attitude problem over the summer and combined with the potion's effects, he couldn't be too careful.
Cautiously moving the tip of his wand out from under the table, he pointed it at the stick of incense on the table in front of Potter. Firmly grasping an identical stick in his other hand, he muttered a few well-chosen words and instantaneously the two sticks switched places. Quickly casting a spell to light the scented wood, he followed it up with a containment charm to make sure the smoke from the scented wood was only breathed in by Potter.
Draco had coated the entire stick with the potion, mentally clapping himself on the back for such an ingenious idea. Potter may be powerful but he wouldn't expect an incense stick to attack him of all things! Satisfied that his task was done for now, he settled into his customary half-doze for the rest of the class.
Harry couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before! The Sorting Hat! It had helped him in his second year, along with Fawkes. Gryffindor's sword had fallen out of the hat. If the much abused and battered headpiece could conceal that, then surely it would have something else of value. Whether it be in objects or information. It had said at every Sorting that it had been around since the Founder's time; it must have some unknown knowledge about them! Who knows what secrets it knew? And Harry was willing to bet that no one had ever asked it for such a thing before!
Naturally, there was one teeny little problem with that plan. The bloody thing was tucked away in Dumbledore's office and as much luck as he had had avoiding the old coot so far this year, he had a feeling that getting in there undetected would not be an easy thing to do.
Still, he knew he was on to something. He had to this! And he would, all that was needed was a little bit of cunning. A rather large distraction would be needed to keep Dumbledore out of his office for a reasonable amount of time but he was sure he could manage it. It wouldn't take too much to get most of, maybe even the entire faculty away from Bumblebore's office. Maybe he could let loose some Dementors? Nah, they affected him too much for comfort. Perhaps a few Death Eaters or trolls. He'd think of something given time. He didn't worry about Fawkes, as he was pretty sure the phoenix wouldn't give him away.
He snapped back to attention when the class began whispering to each other in what seemed like... excitement. In Trelawney's class? Lavender and Parvati were practically bouncing in anticipation.
"Yes," the Divination professor continued, drawing Harry's attention as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Of course, she wasn't as talented as myself. Her sight was quite clouded, the poor thing." Harry snorted softly, /less talented than Trelawney? I didn't think there was such a thing./ he thought to himself. "However, she did make one prediction that seemed true enough. At this school in fact! She gave it during dinner while I still studied here. It caused quite a stir. Not many actually understood what she said though. It was such a pity. I was thinking of giving her a hand but she just wasn't good enough to be a true Seer, like I am. But I mentioned her to give some background information on those who show some talent but don't have the ability. I didn't hear all of it myself and she refused to repeat it but from what I can remember it was just some raving about lightning. Nevertheless, I foresee that many hear would not be able to tell a fraud when you see one. I want a three-foot essay on the different ways to tell a True Seer from a false one. Class dismissed."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~~*
Harry had been on the way to lunch when McGonagall waylaid him and dragged him across the castle to her office, quite near to the Transfiguration classroom but a long way from the North Tower. So that was how he ended up here, seated in front of his Head of House's desk, wondering why she was scowling at him now.
"We need to have a talk about your change of attitude young man." McGonagall said, pacing around her office.
Harry suppressed to urge to sigh, so that was what he was here for. Funny, he would have thought that Dumbledore would have come to reprimand his wayward charge instead of the stern Professor McGonagall.
"We do not tolerate your type of attitude at Hogwarts, Mr Potter. You are very close to having your Prefect badge stripped from you." She halted in front of him, obviously expecting an answer. But Harry remained stubbornly silent.
"Is there any particular reason for this turn around in behaviour, Mr Potter?" she demanded.
Again there was silence.
Eventually growing tired of his lack of answers, she settled for launching into a lengthy tirade that lasted for half an hour. He was then unceremoniously thrown out the door and warned that if he stepped the slightest bit out of line, he would have detention until he graduated. Wow, what a threat, he couldn't help thinking as he hurried off to try and get some food before lunch was over.
*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Later that evening. Around seven o'clock.
Harry could barely stop himself from smirking as he saw who the esteemed duelling teachers would be. Ethan Rayne teaching somebody how to duel? Yeah right, the man preferred the good ol' double-crossing and running side of things instead of the actually staying to fight scenarios. Though the other two; Professor Snape and the special guest star Mad-Eye Moody were well able to defend themselves.
Harry wondered exactly who was going to be the demonstration pair. He could just imagine Moody, the paranoid ex-auror versus Snape, the Death Eater turned spy. That would be something to witness. He could just see the fireworks. Even now they were glaring at each other. He remembered Barty Crouch Jr's impression of Moody and his pestering of Snape; somehow he had a feeling that Crouch had portrayed Moody's feelings to perfection.
The three professors started lecturing on the basics of duelling, namely the Disarming and Stunning curses. All of which Harry could perform in his sleep. He only paid attention when Moody announced that there would be some freestyling before they started teaching them advanced curses and hexes, to see what they were capable of and split them into groups accordingly.
They were allowed shoot any legal curses they knew but no physical contact was allowed. So no resorting to simply punching them then. Harry really felt like baring his teeth, it would probably scare them half to death and then he wouldn't even have to raise his wand. Snape and Rayne started wading through the crowd of sixth years, pairing up. Unfortunately for Harry, Rayne was feeling particularly vindictive and paired him with Ronald Weasley. Probably the last person Harry would have picked to duel against him.
It wasn't because he was mad at Ron, especially considering their fight in Gryffindor Tower, or because Ron had been trying to usurp him in everything. No, it was because he wouldn't even be decent competition. Ron was famous for his temper and Harry knew him well; he didn't think things through, jumped headfirst into everything, mouthed off about things he didn't understand, scraped through his exams thanks to Hermione and didn't have any power with which to back himself up. Ron was an average wizard at best, a fact that he hated, considering all his elder brothers had outstripped him, whether it be through grades, popularity, creativeness or ambition.
Ron would undoubtedly step into this duel with a chip on his shoulder and with something to prove. And Harry would have to deal with his wounded ego. He thought that was plenty of reasons not to be looking forward to this. Ethan was going to pay for this. He just knew that the man had done it deliberately.
His suspicions about his ex-best friend were confirmed when he stomped over to him. Harry thought he could make out some steam rising from underneath that mop of red hair. He must be really mad, he thought vaguely. They both settled into the traditional duelling positions, wands raised in front of them like swords. "You are going down, Potter," Ron snarled, his red face matching his hair in his fury.
Harry simply arched an eyebrow; he had duelled with Lord Voldemort himself. Did he seriously think that one over-emotional sixteen year old was going to beat him? Well, Harry was going to strip him of that delusion pretty quickly.
On the raised dais, Rayne said the starting words, "Everybody! Begin!"
Immediately curses were being flung around the room, most harmless but there were a few advanced hexes bouncing around, mostly being thrown by the Slytherins and they were taking down quite a few hapless students.
Harry was going easy on Ron, throwing a few minor spells and generally flustering the taller boy. Ron was easily getting more and more angry, his face now resembled an overripe tomato and if he'd been steaming before it was nothing compared to how he was now. Barely dodging Harry's bombardment, he settled back on one thing he was familiar with – insults.
"Where'd you learn all this Potter?" he gasped, "Death Eater training camp?"
"No, I didn't go there," Harry replied coolly, "I went to the Evil Overlord training centre."
"Of course you did. Probably learned under You-Know-Who himself. Wonder what your parents would say about that?"
Harry knew that he was only saying it to get under his skin but despite his best efforts, he could feel his temper start to come to the surface. No, no keep your cool Harry, he told himself; you so do not want to do anything to attract attention. You're in deep enough trouble as it is.
Ron fired a Disarming curse at the raven-haired boy, who nimbly dodged it, "Tell me Potter, are the accommodations in Azkaban as nice as I hear? You should probably find out since you'll be going there shortly."
"Shut up Weasel. Don't get me started on you, 'cos I think I can sum it up in one word – moron."
"At least I don't kiss You-Know-Who's robes, acting like a dog!"
"Does the word 'spider' mean anything to you? Considering you're scared to death of them, give me one good reason why I shouldn't transfigure you into one right now!"
Harry's vision was taking on a decidedly red tint, as the blood pounded in his temples. Weasley was deliberately pushing him, evidently itching for a confrontation. Well he was going to get it. He decided to step up the pace and strength of his hexes. He had to enjoy this now, as it was very likely that he would not get another chance – not if the redhead was smart at least.
"Reducto!" he whispered, pointing his wand at the ground beneath Ron's feet. Instantly, the stone heaved and cracked, tremors running through the room like aftershocks. Ron hurriedly backed away from the newly created abyss in front of him and in his haste he tripped over someone's robes and fell to the floor, causing a domino effect to occur throughout the hall.
As people fell or were knocked down, hexes and curses intended for them hit other people, who were often caught unawares. This caused them to think the other person was cheating and pretty soon the hall rang with the sounds of accusations and spellcasting.
The professors tried to find out what was going on but they were stuck on the raised dais and the students wouldn't listen to them. Soon, the sparring matches had turned into full-fledged duelling with some serious intent behind it. Spells fly awry here, there and everywhere and the situation became a full-out brawl.
In one corner of the room stood Harry, on one side of the abyss he'd created. Deciding that it was too dangerous to leave it there with all the fighting going on, he fixed the rift, leaving the stone floor looking like it had never been hit with the spell at all. Ron had, as predicted, scuttled away without even giving Harry time to properly hex him. It was so unfair.
Taking a moment to evaluate the current state of affairs, he searched for the teachers only to find out that Snape and Moody were holding a duel themselves and Rayne seemed to be cowering under the table. How predictable.
Well, with the racket that everybody was causing, the other teachers and the headmaster would no doubt be alerted of the situation and Harry so did not want to be here to take the blame. Slinking into the shadows between the lit torches and candles, he cast a charm to conceal his actions and morphed into his snidget animagus form. Being so small, he was sure that no one would be able to see him. Beating his little wings, he took off for the small window that the owls came through every day.
Passing Ron on the way out, he smirked and cast a nifty little spell he knew. Even in animagus form it with no wand, it wasn't that hard to do. Two seconds later screams rang out as Ron tried to run away from the recently conjured Acromantala. The giant spider was an illusion but the Gryffindor Keeper didn't know that. He'd be in fits of laughter if he were actually in human form, as it was he was chirping. Flying at the speed of a golden snitch or snidget, he was soon moving through the night air outside the castle.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Severus didn't know how it had come to this. One minute he was surveying the sparring students, making mental notes on their abilities when it had quickly spun out of his control. Within two minutes mock-battles had turned into real ones and the professors hadn't been able to regain that control. They had eventually been forced to seek refuge under one of the tables, much to his chagrin.
Moody, being the over-paranoid auror he was, had immediately placed all the blame on Severus and Ethan Rayne. Rayne had quietly slipped away and left the Potions Master to deal with it. Moody hadn't wasted time and had started firing curses at him. Naturally, Severus had retaliated and they hadn't let up since.
Suddenly the two main doors banged open with tremendous force, slamming the wooden panels into the unforgiving stone walls. Dumbledore and the rest of the faculty poured into the room and tried to sort things out. The headmaster seeing their failure, placed the sonorous charm on himself and yelled for everyone to stop.
His voice reverberated through the hall and everyone came to a screeching halt, fear etched on some faces as they realised who had spoken.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" Dumbledore raged, furious about the turn of events. The other teachers were scowling fiercely, some looking quite shell-shocked. "Two hundred points from each house! I cannot express my disappointment in you. You are supposed to be mature young adults, not juvenile delinquents! Appropriate punishments shall be given later. Now get back to your dormitories and stay there! Your Heads of House will be around to deal with you later."
His tone was so stern and his face so grave that there was a near stampede for the doors as the students rushed out under the glaring eyes of the teachers. But Dumbledore wasn't finished. After the last student had fled, he turned to the dais, "You three," he said, pointing at Moody, Severus and Ethan, "My office. Now!" It wasn't a request and he did not sound pleased or the least bit forgiving. It was going to be a long, long night.
~*~*~*~**~~*~**~~**~*~*~**~~*
Draco Malfoy felt a fission of excitement shoot up his spine. The potion must have worked! He had seen Potter send the Weasel screaming. This news had to be reported to his master. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, he penned a short note, wanting to get it done before the teachers came in to reprimand Slytherin House.
My Lord,
The potion has been successfully administered. I witnessed the first effects tonight during a Duelling class. Potter started off a brawl amongst the students and took great pleasure in tormenting Ronald Weasley, his ex-best friend. I shall keep you updated on my progress and the results.
Your loyal servant,
Draco Malfoy.
He signed it with a flourish and gave it to his eagle owl. The owl was especially charmed so as not to give away the recipient or sender's location. Dumbledore couldn't track it. The owl soared off to its destination and Draco settled into the common room, awaiting whoever was coming to punish the sixth years.
*~*~*~*~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Order of the Phoenix convened after Dumbledore had severely lectured the three duelling professors. The headmaster addressed the order members, "Tonight's incident shows that he has clearly gotten out of hand. Mr Weasley is claiming he tried to blow him up using the Reducto curse and several witnesses support him. He has become a danger and must be dealt with. I suggest that we move up our plans and perform the ritual immediately. Any opposed?" he questioned.
No hands were raised and no objections issued. At the far end of the table, Severus bit his tongue. There was no use in arguing with Albus, he always won and would go through with his tactics anyway.
Dumbledore nodded his head and stood, "Then we go ahead as planned. He's been let loose for far too long already. I will acquire the orb. Everyone else already knows their part. When it's done, we shall have enough leverage and power to get rid of Voldemort once and for all."
"What about the price, Albus?" Professor Sprout asked.
His features looked as though they were carved from stone, "We do what we must. Whatever the cost."
~*~*~***~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~***~*~*~*~**~
A/N: Please review! Pleeeeeease!