Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and can't get money for this, but I can make him into a Mafia Prince.

Warning: Some chapters (the ones including pranks) might not be appropriate to read at work. Laughter may ensue leading your co-workers to see you as even more insane than they previously thought.

Chapter 12: Way of the Elders

Over the next few weeks leading up to September 1st Harry and Blaise took every opportunity they could to slip away from Trevor and his fanatical teaching lessons on magic. It was plain to them that he had spent way too long a time away from a world he obviously loved even for the bad memories it brought him. They hid everywhere they could think of, even the laundry shoot, but with a wave of his wand and a well said spell Trevor always found them. Harry tried to manipulate his wandless magic to hide them from Trevor's tracking spells but didn't know how to bend his will for such a desire and failed. Whenever Harry used his wandless magic he only needed to visualize what he wanted to happen and it would, he didn't know what he could possibly visualize to keep a spell from finding him. Harry had found a spell in one of his books though that he could use to thwart Trevor but didn't know how to combine spells and his wandless magic together, in truth he knew next to nothing about wandless magic and how to use it beyond picturing things happening. Their wands weren't an available option to use to cast the spell as according to Trevor any use of wand magic by an underage witch or wizard outside of school was tracked and penalized.

In the end and after a stern lecture from Manuel, Harry and Blaise buckled down to their studies and began to absorb magical theory and history. The only class they could do practical work in was potions leading for Harry and Blaise to spend a lot of their summer standing over gently simmering cauldrons that threw off a lot of heat in the basement room they were using for their magic-related lessons. As they brewed Trevor would pound into their heads the different combinations of ingredients and their reactions as well as how to correct various mistakes that could happen during the brewing of various potions. In Trevor's eyes neither Harry nor Blaise were bad at Potions even if they weren't naturals, he had finally stopped them from blowing cauldrons up on purpose, and both turned in properly made concoctions nine out of ten times though on occasion the color was just a tiny shade off or the liquid a hair too thin. Trevor only hoped that these lessons would be enough to help them survive under Severus' prejudice and perfectionist nature.

… … … … …

Harry was bored; he had just finished an intense session with Sensei in which his arse had gotten royally kicked. Blaise and Trevor were having a quality father-daughter day and Manuel had gotten called in to the office of his legitimate electronics business to deal with some problems that had arose. Harry knew he could go find some of the guards for further training or companionship but he was too sore to move from his bed. Besides, he would be seeing them all later that night for an early farewell party. In about a week he and Blaise would be heading for Hogwarts but the guards had been told that they were both going to a private boarding school in France so that they could continue their educations with other children their age without having to worry about attacks and assassination attempts. Harry sighed, so many secrets even within their tightly knit household but then secrets were the life-blood of the Mafia. He turned his attention to the stack of magical textbooks beside his bed. His eyes flicked over the books and he commented on each one:

"Transfiguration, read them. Charms, read them too. Defense books, devoured them. Potions, had them pounded into my head. History books, don't feel like sleeping. Herbology, glanced through. Astronomy, stars recognized. Hogwarts A History, can't wait to see the ceiling. Arithmancy, read but not needed till third year. Ancient Runes, as if I don't know enough languages and codes. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, wonder where to find a doxy to stick in Trevor's bed. Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, now know more about myself than even I wanted to and wonder where I can learn some of those awesome curses. Quidditch, too bad first years can't have brooms. Book on Jinxes and Pranks, memorized. The book on wizarding laws and cultures it is then."

A few hours later Harry snorted as he finished reading the section on the basics of wizarding culture. The purebloods and their ideals wouldn't continue to last for long if they didn't change to keep up with times. Not that they would last much longer if the book was right about all the close inter-family inbreeding. He could understand their ideas of keeping their blood pure and untainted by the non-magical even if he thought it foolish and didn't quite agree, he wouldn't want to marry his cousin after all. Harry briefly wondered what they would do when they were all so closely interrelated that there were no respectable matches left and their children were born mutated. Harry shivered at the thought, when he and Blaise had been younger one of the guards who had spent some time in the States had delighted in telling them stories of the horrors of inbreeding that took place in some less populated areas in America. Personally Harry hoped the man had been watching too many movies on the box.

Standing Harry felt his muscles strain andcursed himself for lying around so long after his training with Sensei without properly stretching. Wincing Harry began to slowly stretch each individual muscle set at a time in hopes of limbering up a bit to do a fuller stretch so he wouldn't be sore all night. It took nearly half an hour before Harry had all the kinks worked out, he had even considered going to Sensei for some help and perhaps a massage but decided that working through the pain was much more preferable than the lecture and exercises he would have gotten. Still moving a little less freely than he would have liked Harry left his room in search of his father only to discover that he wasn't home yet and neither were Trevor and Blaise. Feeling a bit alone even though there were many others in the house Harry briefly went out the to stable to visit Azrael, he hadn't had much time for the stallion lately and promised his four legged friend a ride the next day when there was more light. His dad would kill him if he went out for a night time ride.

With nothing else to do, Harry still didn't feel like hanging with the guards, he went back to his room and skimmed through the book he had been reading for any laws that could allow him to use his wand without attracting the Ministry's attention. He got through one page before quitting. How in the hell could Trevor expect them to read this book. The laws were so riddle with twists and loops that it would take decades to unravel them and they were incredibly dry on top of that. He hadn't minded the part about wizarding culture; it had been pretty interesting until the author had turned fanatical about pureblood statuses and wealth. Harry threw the book aside and lay on his back across his large bed, one arm artfully thrown over his eyes as if to block out the world. His mind kept flashing over the laws Trevor had mentioned on the use of underage magic. Why was it that if he used his wand they would detect his magic but if he used his magic without his wand it didn't seem to get picked up on? Could there be some sort of detection spells on the wands that alert the authorities? If so there must be some way around it.

He would have to get Trevor to pick up some books on wandless magic and ask him about it, but come to think of it Trevor never did any magic without his wand. The other day when Trevor was working on a potion he hadn't dared leave he didn't just reach out his hand to summon the ingredient he wanted but had picked up his wand and used and incantation to bring it to him, why do that when it was simply easier to just will it over? Unless Trevor couldn't do wandless magic. Harry was beginning to wonder about wandless magic, what was the point of having wands when they weren't really needed for magic to work. He had been experimenting with using his hand as one would a wand and was coming very close to being able to cast real spells, because after all wasn't the wand merely and extension of the hand, a focus tool for the magic already inside a witch or wizard. Before he knew it Harry had drifted off to sleep, thoughts still plaguing his mind as he tossed restlessly around. Elsewhere in the world a pair of red eyes shone briefly from the eyes of a freshly acquired human host.

… … … … …

Manuel arrived home in time for dinner around the same time that Trevor and Blaise did. Not finding Harry already at the table when he entered the dining room Manuel went upstairs to his son's room where the guards said he had been most of the day. Not receiving any answer to his knock Manuel silently and cautiously entered the room. There on the bed lay Harry, the soft glow of a reading lamp illuminating the boy as he tossed restlessly upon the already tangled and sweat soaked covers.

Carefully Manuel reached out a calming hand to his son's shoulder and called, "Harry, wake up, it's only a dream."

The resulting reaction was totally expected by Manuel who had woken Harry from nightmares before, though none had been recently, and he raised a hand protectively as Harry came jolting back to reality.

Trapped in the world of nightmares that engulfed him Harry felt a hand upon his shoulder and bolted upright, the knife that seemed to be an extension of his arm whipping about towards where he had last felt the hand. Even during his restless sleep Harry's subconscious had not allowed him to forget years of conditioning and the knife had not dropped from his hand as he roiled within the horrors his mind conjured as he slept. Smoothly Harry's hand was intercepted in a firm yet gentle grasp, Manuel speaking softly to him even as he took the knife and laid it on the bedside table. It took Harry's pounding heart a few moments to quiet itself enough that the blood didn't rush into Harry's ears and drown out his fathers words.

"Nothings here to hurt you my son," Manuel soothed, "but what plagues your dreams so."

Slowly Harry recounted the dream that had used to haunt him as a toddler, but this time told mention of a pair of red eyes blazing in triumph. It had been years since he had sat in his fathers arms, held closely in the warmth and security as he recalled the screams of a mother's desperation, a high pitched cackle of menace, and the flashes of sickly green light. Manuel too remembered the dream that had once haunted his son almost nightly and knew the significance behind it well, it had all been explained in that fated letter a man named Dumbledore had left with the newly orphaned infant all those years ago. Manuel also knew that at this time there were no words that could be said and silently led his son to the dining room, Harry did not need to be alone and did not need to dwell on the dream anymore. Strange though that the dream should start to bother Harry again now after he had come to terms with it years ago.

That night as Harry prepared to go sleep after his father had tucked him in and been reassured that he would be fine alone the young boy reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a small object. It was a dream catcher given to Harry years ago by a Native American Indian who had dedicated himself as a guard and secretly helped Harry to chase away the nightmares. Cheveyo had been his personal guard when he was little and had guided Harry, teaching him the ways of the Ancestors. Not long before Harry's seventh birthday Cheveyo had been called home to his people but had reassured Harry that all he would have to do would be to call out to him in times of need and he would come. So far Harry had never called out, but he remembered Cheveyo's teachings and missed his mentor fiercely. Harry hadn't needed the talisman for many years, but the dream earlier hadn't felt right and it had set his scar to aching though he hadn't told his father that. For a moment Harry studied the charm woven of sacred wood and sinew that was decorated with beads and feathers before he rose from the bed to kneel by the window.

Reverently Harry stared up at the full moon hanging majestically in the deep night sky and held out the dream catcher so that a shaft of moonlight fell directly onto it. Softly he began to chant, a personal plea Cheveyo had helped him create. The chant came from the depths of Harry's soul, a mantra that was uniquely his.

"The Earth, the air, the fire, the water.
Into the silence of the night,
Into the silence of the moon,
I am making my dreams come true.

I call the fire.
Burn fire, burn bright
Pure vision come to me
And guide my path tonight
With your strength and light.

Soaring eagle; mighty lion;
Ancient serpent; dark bull;
Spirit guides of warriors
Protect me in my life's flight.

The Earth, the air, the fire, the water.
Into the silence of the night,
Into the silence of the moon,
Guard and keep pure my dreams this night."

As Harry finished the chant the dream catcher seemed to glow with an inner light and a sense of peace flowed through Harry and filled him, his eyes seeming to flicker a different color for a brief instant though he didn't know it. Carefully Harry moved the dream catcher to his neck and tied the attached twine securely around his throat, allowing the talisman to rest with comforting warmth against his chest next to the dragon pendant he had taken to wearing. When Cheveyo had left Harry had felt betrayed as any child would and had stopped wearing the talisman out of petty spite, he hadn't realized how bare he had felt without the familiar presence until now. Climbing into bed Harry lay down to let peaceful sleep claim him and vowed he wouldn't take the dream catcher off again. He didn't realize that the dragon pendant briefly pulsed with a soft glow before once again falling dormant.