Chapter Two: Troubles with Troy

Harry decided there was one distinct advantage to being as famous as he was. When he started talking about Defense against the Dark Arts… students listened, and they were loathe to question him, even the ever curious first-years.

"The Disarming Spell is one of the most useful spells you can learn when defending yourself against another wizard." He said, lifting his wand for effect. "Miss Fitzsimmons, may you come here please?"

Julie's eyes widened, and for a moment, she was too awe-struck to comply. Then flushing red with embarrassment after Prima nudged her in the side, Julie hastily shuffled up to the front of the classroom in front of Harry. "Thank you, Miss Fitzsimmons. Now, just stand right there and face me." While Julie complied, Harry took ten paces back to create ample room for the students to actually see what was about to happen, while keeping both himself and Julie relatively in eyesight. "Now, what I want you to do is raise your wand as if you're about to cast a spell."

Slowly, even cautiously, Julie raised her wand as if she was terrified that Harry was going to attack her. He smiled reassuringly, and then with a snap of his wrist, called out, "Expelliarmus!"

There was a ripple in the air that shot from the tip of Harry's wand towards his student, and Julie cringed somewhat, covering her eyes with her free arm and holding her wand as far away from her as she could. Her wand hand wrenched upward, and her wand flew out of her grip, clattering to the floor about four meters behind her. After a couple seconds she dropped her off arm, and opened her eyes.

"Typical Muggle-born…" One of the Slytherin students, a haughty looking boy by the name of Norrell Durstrong joked. "Are you scared of the mean, nasty wand?"

Harry moved so quickly that it surprised everyone in the room. Before Norrell had even finished, Harry was standing over him, looking down menacingly at the boy.

"One more comment from you, Mr. Durstrong, and I will show you just why you should be scared of my 'mean, nasty wand'." Harry growled. "I have precious little doubt as to the things Professor Snape lets you get away with in his classroom. Let me assure you that you will not get away with them in mine. Five points from Slytherin, and the next time you speak before being spoken to, it will be ten."

He turned away to return to his position at the head of the classroom as Julie recovered her wand from where it had fallen. "Thank you, Miss Fitzsimmons, you may return to your seat." He waited for her to do so before continuing, "As you can see, the Disarming Spell can be extraordinarily useful. In the right situation it can give you the few seconds you need to get away from whoever is trying to attack you."

"Run away?" Frederick said in surprise.

"Of course, Mr. Cole. At this point in your young lives, your first concern should be to preserve your own well-being, not to try and win a duel against a wizard who likely is much more learned than you."

"But you never ran away from anything!" He retorted with a great deal of shock. "Even as a first-year!"

Harry couldn't fight back the grin that crept on his face. "That's because I was stupid and didn't know any better at your age."

The woman who appeared in the doorway leading to the main hall couldn't help but laugh to hear those words come out of Harry's mouth. Harry turned to the sound, and said with a smirk, "Well, I'm glad you find my lecture so amusing, Professor Granger. Did you stop by just to laugh at me, or is there another purpose to your visit?"

"Actually, I came to inform you that your class was supposed to end two minutes ago. Apparently, the session chimes are malfunctioning at the moment." Hermione declared.

"Oh!" Harry said, his students closing their books and preparing to leave before Harry even had the chance to dismiss them. "Remember, next time we will be in the South Courtyard to practice our Disarming spells!" He called out over the increasing noise, and waited next to Hermione as the students filtered out of the classroom in a disorganized mess. He placed a comforting hand on Julie's back as she passed by, and gave her a warm smile before mouthing, "Good job." The girl's face brightened, and she paused a brief moment before dashing to rejoin her housemates.

"Looks like someone has a little pet." Hermione teased.

"She reminds me a bit of myself in a way." Harry answered with a shrug. "I guess I want to see her get the chance to thrive here like I did."

Hermione didn't say anything else on the matter, and changed the topic. "So, are you ready to get about on our patrol?"

Since there were eight class sessions in each school day, and each professor taught seven classes, that meant every professor had a one hour open session, which they were to use for whatever odd tasks they felt up to taking, like patrolling the halls for wayward students or other such mischief.

"Actually, I need to make a quick visit to Dumbledore. I need to talk to him about my scar…"

Hermione gasped. "It's not going away?"

"No." Harry said with a shake of his head. "As a matter of fact, I think…" His statement was interrupted when he felt his scar begin to tingle once more. Surely enough, Troy Ailona, the current caretaker of the school, emerged around the corner and began to approach.

Hermione waved her hand and said, "Good day, Mr. Ailona."

The dark clothed man nodded towards them, and said with a distinctly northeast American accent, "Good day to you, Miss Granger… Mr. Potter."

Harry returned the nod in greeting, and trying to act naturally said, "So I see Dumbledore finally realized that Filch just couldn't do the job anymore."

Troy gave a single, short, snorting laugh, and remarked dryly, "Something like that."

"Usually Filch was in bed by the time the sun rose, to get ready for another night of patrolling the halls." Hermoine noted. "Yet I've seen you around almost all day since classes started. How do you manage that?"

The caretaker shrugged, and answered, "I don't need much sleep, I guess."

"Well, don't burn yourself out before Christmastime." Harry quipped.

Once again, Harry felt like Troy's eyes were boring into him through the deep, black, sunglasses the man wore. "I suspect I will be fine. Now, begging your pardon, professors, I have tasks that require my attention. I will be on my way now." He gave the pair a slight bow before going on the move again, the gentle pulsing in Harry's scar going right along with him.

"He's not too bad of a sort, really. Rather quiet, but he's by and large polite to everyone here, even the students. It's amazing how the children listen to him… then again, I suppose he doesn't look to be the sort I'd want to get angry." Hermione said then suddenly added, "You were saying something about suspecting something about your scar."

Harry for a moment debated just what to tell her… then reminded him it would likely be for the best to just tell her the truth. "I think that… he…" Harry pointed down the hall where Ailona had walked away, "… is the one who is setting it off."

Hermione gasped. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded, "I think he was on the Hogwart's Express as well. I saw his trenchcoat for a brief moment before I could catch him. Whenever he gets close to me, I feel it."

"Well then, you better tell Dumbledore of this immediately!" Hermione ordered.

Harry rolled his eyes in amazement at how quickly his friend would let worry affect her. "I just said that was what I was going to do, remember?"

Hermione grinned wryly, "Well… I remember how you can be, so I thought I'd make sure you remembered. You have a tendency to forget to depend on others at times, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Life as an Auror has changed that tendency, I can assure you. Besides, my desire not to burden anyone with my troubles nearly cost me my life and the lives of everyone close to me. I don't intend to let that happen again." Harry declared; the memory of his seventh year still burned brightly into his memory.

"Well then, let's not waste any more time." Hermione said, grabbing hold of Harry's shoulder as they made their way, as if to make sure he wouldn't back out of his promise at the last minute.

Dumbledore looked busy when they reached his office five minutes later… but then again, he was busy most of the time with his myriad of duties as not only the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but with a bevy of other positions with other wizarding councils and groups. Nonetheless, he dropped his quill and looked right up at Harry before the two young professors had reached the top of the stairs.

"Greetings, Harry. I trust everything is going well so far." Dumbledore said casually.

Harry rubbed the back of his head, then cringed when Hermione jabbed him in the kidney, a not-so-subtle gesture to make him quit stalling. "Actually… there is a problem… Albus."

The cheer in Dumbledore's face immediately drained away. He braced his heavily bearded head on his hands, and said softly. "What sort of problem?"

Now that Harry was right there, looking at the deep, almost sorrowed concern on Dumbledore's face, he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell the old headmaster about something that he was suddenly less sure was a serious issue at all. He eventually fought off the urge, and rededicated himself to informing Dumbledore of everything, but by then, Hermione grunted in frustration, and interjected on his behalf.

"Harry's scar has been… going off, Albus."

That did exactly what Harry had feared. Dumbledore's face had grown grim and pale, the shiny grey hair about his face seeming to visibly dim. "Is this true, Harry?"

Harry nodded slowly, and said as if in rationalization, "It's not like the pain I felt when Voldemort was around… just itchiness, an occasional tingle, nothing like when it felt my forehead was going to explode."

Dumbledore nodded, and said, "I will investigate the matter immediately, I can assure you. No doubt dear old Tom Riddle still has a presence in this castle."

Harry began to say something, started to stop, then noticed Hermione's disapproving glare. If he didn't say anything, she would. "Actually, I'm already quite certain who is responsible."

Albus leaned forward slightly. "Do tell."

"I… I think it's… Mr. Ailona."

Dumbledore made a curious sound in the back of his throat, and just as quickly as his cheeriness had melted away a mere minute before, the dread on his face did the same, to be replaced with what appeared to be piqued curiosity. "Interesting… and you are certain of this?"

"I feel it everytime Troy is nearby… and it goes away as he leaves."

Dumbledore looked like a great weight had been taken off his shoulders, and he said reassuringly, "In that case, I can promise you that you have nothing to worry about, Harry. Mr. Ailona wishes you about as much harm as I do."

"Then why does his presence make my scar react?"

"That I cannot say offhand. Troy is… unusual, in many regards, not even I fully understand it. I'd have to do some looking into the matter. But I can say with the certainty of every fiber of my being that you have nothing to fear from Mr. Ailona."

"How can you be so certain?" Hermione asked.

"Troy is a personal friend of mine, and has done many useful tasks for me in the past. I have also been in a great share of situations in which my life has been in his hands. Had Troy been the duplicitous sort… I suspect he would have shown it by now."

"Then why was he on the Express?" Harry questioned.

"Troy was acquiring some more of those worthless gadgets that I told you I can't seem to stop collecting. I suppose he decided to take the train back rather than return on his own. I can understand why he'd like to avoid the Knight Bus if at all possible."

Harry was about to retort, but Dumbledore appeared so utterly sure of his opinions that Harry decided any further discussion would prove ineffective. Giving Hermione a guiding hand on her back, he left the Headmaster's office. They immediately set off on their rounds, but naturally, Harry's mind was on other things.

"Albus is hiding something from me…" Harry finally stated, his voice beginning to reflect frustration and anger.

Hermione stiffened. She knew where this sort of emotion would lead Harry, and she was determined to cut it off before it got started. "Dumbledore has never lied to you, Harry. If he says Mr. Ailona is no danger to you, then he isn't."

"Then why does my scar react to his presence?" Harry challenged. "Dumbledore's been wrong about people before. Professor Quirrell as an example. Voldemort hid right under Dumbledore's nose for a year."

"You're not suggesting that… no… do not even think it! I was there…"

Harry's eyes gleamed solemnly. "I know you were there, Herms. I know you each and every one of the twenty-three Killing curses I shot at him, and then the Banishment charm that sent him to the land of the dead. But… what if… that still wasn't enough?"

"It has to be Harry… it has to be…"

"I can't just assume that. Especially now that I know that Voldemort would do anything in order to get to me… including torturing and even killing my friends. I'm not going to let that happen to people like you and Ron ever again."

Hermione shuddered. She still carried the marks of said abuse, one of them the scar on her chest where she had been forced to drink her own blood straight from her own heart, or the rope burns on her ankles where she had been hung upside down for hours and hit with a constant barrage of Crucius curses. Hermione had actually been lucky in that regard. Poor Neville Longbottom had succumbed to it all… his mind broken, his body battered… the young man simply gave up, passing away with his head in Hermione's lap.

Nonetheless, she stopped, grabbing Harry by the shoulders, and protested. "Please… I can tell just by your eyes what you plan to do. Don't… don't make me sick with worry while you go right into the thick of potential danger. Outside of your scar, there is nothing to indicate that there is anything out of place."

"But…"

"If something happens… I will be right there to help you investigate every possibility." Hermione promised. "I just don't want to ruin this peaceful time unless we can be certain that something is amiss. Harry… I'm tired. I'm tired of worrying about you… about what might happen to you… of what I'd do if something did… of what we'd all do… I'm just tired…"

"Well, maybe you can start by not worrying about me." Harry growled. "In case you haven't noticed, since apparently Dumbledore hasn't, I am a grown man. I'm a big boy now, okay? I think I can handle myself. If Voldemort is still somehow in the land of the living, I intend to bring him down before he becomes a threat to others this time."

Harry stomped off at the next intersection, and Hermione wisely decided now was not the time to press the issue. She had seen that look in Harry's face before, and she liked it even less now than the first time she had seen that emotion twisting his features. The face of the Harry Potter of roughly five years ago, the face of a Harry Potter that had been able, and more than willing, to kill…

"Albus Dumbledore is weak… that's why I will eventually become the victor, even if it takes a hundred years." Voldemort said with a raspy sneer. "You share that weakness… emotion… courage… kindness… they make you soft, and unable to do what needs to be done."

Harry slowly lowered his wand. He had known since the end of his fifth year that it would end this way, either as a murderer or a victim. He was willing to come for the sake of his friends, right into the depths of Voldemort's stronghold, where his power was greatest, surrendering that advantage willingly, knowing that it would likely mean his death.

"Even if I do not kill you… now anyone can." Harry remarked with a triumphant grin. "That harmless, nonsense spell I cast? I intentionally masked the words. I actually struck you with a Binding enchantment. Once this newest body of yours is broken, that's it. You'll just be a worthless wisp of a spirit, unable to hurt anyone or anything. You'll never be feared again… only pitied. How fitting would that be; the great Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… nothing more than a wisp of nothing on a stale breeze for eternity…"

"Silence!" The reptilian looking Dark Wizard bellowed, "I'll kill you first, Potter!"

"I planned on that." Harry said with a shrug. "The prophesy that you so desperately wanted to hear told me that neither of us could live while the other survives. But, you see, Tom Riddle, I agree with Dumbledore, there are things worse than death. You're doomed to one of those things… to be forgotten…"

In a burst of rage, Voldemort prepared to cast the spell that would kill Harry in short order, however, he was interrupted when a stone panel to his left slowly slid open. Both Harry and Voldemort turned their attention as four figures emerged from the secret hall.

"Oh, dear me…" Dumbledore said, "It appears we have taken a wrong turn…"

All of Harry's self-sacrificing plans went out the window. Right behind Dumbledore were Hermione and Ron, who Harry had asked the Headmaster to find and lead to safety. Their robes were in tatters, and Hermione had the spastic tick of a person subjugated to far too many Crucius curses than could possibly be healthy. Ron had the deep red color of freshly dried blood clinging to his ears, nose and mouth.

That might not have been bad enough to send Harry over the edge, but the final figure served to do it. Neville Longbottom was slung between Ron and Hermione, being drug along limply. There was no doubt in his mind… he could just tell that Neville was no longer among the living. Yet another member of the Longbottom family was destroyed by Voldemort…

… and Harry promised himself that Neville would be the last.

Bellatrix LeStrange once told Harry that in order for one of the Unforgivable Curses to work the wizard or witch casting it had to really mean it. And Harry meant with every fiber of his soul to kill Voldemort… once and for all…

"Avada Cadavera!" The green bolt of energy ripped from the tip of Harry's wand, striking Voldemort before the Dark Wizard even knew what hit him. Voldemort was lifted off the ground from the force of the spell, and thrown into the wall behind him, slumping to the floor like a wet rag.

Harry knew that it would take more than that to kill Voldemort, which was why he had sent another Killing curse before Voldemort could even reach his feet. This one struck the Dark Wizard in the face, causing his head to recoil and smack heavily against the wall.

Harry began to approach the fallen wizard, every three steps firing another Killing curse into his fallen opponent. Rather than his rage dissipating with each spell, it was actually building as Harry remembered those close to him that fell in fighting Voldemort. His mother… his father… Cedric Diggory… Sirius… and now Neville, the one person out of everyone present who most deserved happiness and a full life.

Harry was now straddling over the lifeless husk of Lord Voldemort, and fired seven more Killing curses before he felt a hand on his shoulder, and Hermione's voice pleading with him, "Harry! Harry! Stop! That's enough! Please stop!"

Harry wrenched his arm away, and muttered. "No, not quite yet… it will never be enough… Never!"

Harry raised his wand one last time, and as he spoke, he no longer cared if Voldemort could still hear him or not. "I've changed my mind, Tom Riddle, I've decided you need to leave this world, and never come back. Expello Abeo!"

Harry jerked out of his bed, panting heavily with sweat pouring off his forehead and dripping off his chin. His hand instantly went up to his scar in anticipation of the flaring pain that generally accompanied dreams of Voldemort… but there was none, not even the tingle he felt when near Troy Ailona.

Harry rubbed his forehead absentmindedly, as if that would clear the images from his memory. He hadn't had that dream in almost a year, and had actually begun to think he had come to grips with what he had done.

He had convinced himself it had been necessary, and maybe it had been. But deep down, he knew that part of it wasn't necessary. Emotion was a double-edged sword; it can reinforce the kindest of hearts, fueling them against any adversary… but it can also warp a person to perform acts that they normally would never dream themselves capable of. Looking back, he did not like what he had become in those few short minutes while he killed Voldemort, and he also recognized how similar his actions must have appeared to Hermione earlier. With a sigh, he realized he would have to apologize to her. He just wished she made a little more sense at times… telling him that he needed to inform Dumbledore about his scar… then telling him not to investigate further when it appeared Dumbledore was not concerned…

He lowered his head back onto the pillow, but sleep did not seem to be as easily attained as it had been earlier in the night. With a sigh, he climbed out of his bed, and threw on a light robe before deciding to take a walk to clear his head.

Harry had been out in the halls of Hogwarts in the dead of night several times before, but old habits died hard, as he began to wonder where he had put his invisibility cloak before he reminded himself that he didn't need it. With a roll of his eyes, Harry Potter stepped outside his dormitory, closed the door quietly, and turned west.

He remembered some of the various nighttime excursions he had taken along many of these same halls as a student, and how it was different to wandering them as a professor, where it was doubtful he'd get in much, if any, trouble for being up and about. Needless to say, the same thrill wasn't exactly present this time around. Perhaps that was a good thing… too much excitement, Harry had learned, was rather bad for his health, and others for that matter.

That's when a pair of terrified screams rung through the hall, coming from the exterior school grounds. Harry instinctively dashed at full speed towards the nearest exit he knew of, about 30 meters down the hall then burst outside into the night.

What he saw stunned him with disbelief, but at the same time didn't surprise him. Two students that he couldn't identify due to darkness and distance were laying lifeless on the ground, while a familiar figure in a trenchcoat that almost perfectly blended with the nighttime sky stood over them, slightly hunched over. Had Harry not already been sure of the man's identity, the increasingly familiar tingle in his scar would have been proof enough.

If Troy knew Harry was there, the caretaker didn't show it, suddenly bolting off with inhuman speed to the south beyond Harry's sight. A part of Harry wanted to follow, but his concern for the obviously injured students took precedent. By the time he had reached the pair, sixth years from Ravenclaw, if he remembered correctly, he heard the first sounds of help arriving.

"Harry, are the students all right?" Dumbledore asked, flanked by McGonagall and Snape on his right, and Flitwick and Hermione on his left.

Snape answered instead. "It appears they were bitten by a vampire."

"A vampire? Here? Impossible." McGonagall disputed.

"Actually, Minerva, he's right." Harry corrected. "You can see the bite marks on their necks right here." He pointed to the small wound marks for effect. "The bites aren't very deep, more likely the vampire was just trying to stun them so that it could take them to wherever its lair is to feed more thoroughly."

"We must get them to Madam Pomfrey immediately." Dumbledore ordered. "Hermione, help Harry take them to the infirmary, and Flitwick, inform Madam Pomfrey that she will need to begin mixing vampire anti-venom immediately, if she does not have some prepared already."

"Albus…" Harry interrupted. "Troy was here before I was… I caught him standing over the students before he ran off."

"Then I suspect the creature responsible for this heinous attack will not survive the night." The headmaster replied dismissively; far too dismissively for Harry's tastes. "You must hurry and take these students to Madam Pomfrey. If this vampire was particularly powerful, we may not have much time to supply the antidote."

Harry reluctantly admitted the truth to that order, and thus took the heavier boy onto his shoulders while Hermione with Flitwick's help, took the girl before the Charms professor took off at a full run into the school. As they began to leave, Harry heard Snape declare, "Dumbledore, we need to talk… immediately."

"Very well, Severus. Minerva, meet us in my office in five minutes."

Harry didn't hear anything else as he had moved beyond his range of hearing. The short trip to Madam Pomfrey's infirmary seemed to take far longer than it should have, and Harry somewhat shamefully admitted to himself that the student's safety was not the primary thing on his mind. How he wanted to be part of that meeting that would no doubt be starting any moment now.

He reminded himself to apologize to Madam Pomfrey for what must have appeared to be a very rude and swift departure after depositing his burden on one of the beds before the school nurse even had a chance to tell him where the student should be put. Nonetheless, he began to run through the darkened halls towards his destination.

If he recalled correctly, there was a portrait of one of the former headmasters that hung in Dumbledore's office that had a similar portrait in one of the corners of the Gryffindor Common Room. If he was correct, he might be able to be present at Dumbledore's meeting after all.

The Fat Lady recognized him, but might have let him through even had he not known the password for entry. The Common Room was almost crammed with a mess of students from varying years, no doubt awoken by the screams from outside, while the Prefects struggled to maintain control of the increasingly panicked children.

Fortunately, Harry's presence instantly calmed the massive congregation. "Professor Potter? What happened? Is everything all right?"

"Everything is fine." Harry called out over the slightly dampened din. "There was an accident involving a pair of Ravenclaw students who were not in bed like they were supposed to. Everything is under control, and you can all go to bed safely."

"But we can't possibly…" A voice called from the back.

"That is not a request." Harry replied sternly. "In order to avoid any more panic, students need to return to their beds."

With reluctant respect to the older man, the students began slowly filtering up to their dorms. Harry watched the mass retreat impatiently, knowing each second was one second of lost time he wouldn't regain. Finally, the common room was empty, and Harry moved to portrait he had targeted. Pulling a chair in front of it, he sat down, raised his wand, and prepared to cast his spell when a gentle tug on his robe nearly caused him to scream himself.

Harry whirled about accusingly, and saw Julie Fitzsimmons standing with a nervous look on her face. "Are you sure everything is all right?"

"Yes, Julie!" Harry snapped, "Now get to sleep!"

He might as well have slapped the girl. She took two steps back, her eyes wide in hurt. "O… okay…" Julie stammered, tears starting to form along her eyelids. "Good… goodnight, Professor Potter…"

Harry sighed in disgust with himself as Julie dashed up the steps. He had to add Julie's name to the list of people he owed an apology now. Nevertheless, now was not the time for apologies. Now was the time to figure out just what was going on. He focused on the portrait in front of him, currently empty, but irrelevant to the spell he was about to cast. His Auror training taught him of a method in which he could follow the path of a magical portrait, allowing his senses to travel to any destination the denizen of the portrait could go; in this case, Dumbledore's office…

"Pathium Intello!" Harry chanted then his vision temporarily faded to blackness. When next he saw light, it was the brightly lit domed chamber of Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was in his chair, with McGonagall and Snape sitting across the desk. It appeared to Harry's frustration that the meeting had already been well on its way.

"Now, you see what I told you. I told you that inviting Potter to teach here would put the students at unnecessary risk." Snape growled. "I can guarantee you why that vampire was here. It was here because of Potter!"

"There is no evidence of that." McGonagall retorted. "There are a great number of vampires…"

"But only one Vampire Lord who just happens to have come to Britain, looking for Potter! Now, suddenly, a vampire appears on the grounds for the first time in twenty-seven years? That is plenty enough evidence for me. You should never have brought Potter here!"

"It was done for Potter's safety…"

"Potter is a grown man now, Dumbledore. He can handle himself."

Harry could hardly believe that he was actually beginning to side with Snape. What was the world coming to?

"Severus, I'm actually inclined to agree with you." Dumbledore replied. "However, had the two students been inside the school when they were supposed to be, they would not have been attacked. The exterior grounds are always dangerous at night. That is just as true now as it always has been. Do not blame Harry for the unfortunate misbehaving of a couple love-struck students. This has all been carefully planned. Harry is here because he is a perfect fit for his position, and it forces our unseen enemy to come to us."

"I also don't like that… monster here. He could have just as easily been the one to attack the students, and he is inside the school every night."

"You know just as well as I do that Troy was not responsible for the attacks." Dumbledore scowled, showing a small degree of anger that he so rarely displayed.

"That may be… but there's going to be a point where he will be hungry, and he's going to feed… and it might not be when you expect, regardless of what you say."

Dumbledore suddenly went rigid, his gaze slowly turning to the portrait where Harry was lingering. "Hold one moment, Severus. I think we might have an uninvited guest."

Harry quickly retreated to his physical form, somewhat upset that Dumbledore had located him, and knowing the Headmaster, also would quickly figure Harry was behind it. Nonetheless, he now knew for certain that Dumbledore was hiding something, unfortunately it created more questions than it did answers.

He sprinted back to the infirmary, and in another display of rudeness that he would have to apologize to Madam Pomfrey for, grabbed Hermione by the shoulder as she passed him and pulled her out into the hall.

"Harry!" She began chidingly, "Where have you…"

He cut her off with a finger to her lips. "Listen to me like you've never listened to me before. I knew there was something off about Troy Ailona, and listening to Dumbledore and Snape talking about it… I think our caretaker is a vampire."

Troy's behavior over the next week only reinforced that opinion in Harry's mind. He never saw the caretaker outside during the day, nor did Troy ever seem to eat at mealtimes. Of course, Hermione had correctly pointed out that Filch hadn't exactly been in the practice of dining with the students and professors either. Nonetheless, Harry combined that with everything else he had seen to form a pretty damning opinion in his mind. He was certain that Troy was a vampire, now it was all a matter of proving it.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Mr. Ailona had learned that he triggered Harry's scar, likely from Dumbledore, and was intentionally keeping his distance. Which was unfortunate, because Harry had some things he wanted to test.

Finally he got his chance during a late evening professor's meeting, and it had come so unexpectedly that he almost didn't catch it until it was too late. Harry had been so engrossed in reporting his progress that he didn't acknowledge that his scar was tingling until Troy appeared in the doorway of the conference room.

"Sun's setting." Troy said simply, pointing west. "I'll be starting my rounds now. I'll be sure to inform you if I find anymore of our vampiric friends roaming about."

Dumbledore nodded, "Very well… thank you, Mr. Ailona."

Troy disappeared around the corner again, and Harry quickly jerked. "Mr. Ailona! Wait one moment." He hopped out of his seat, Hermione following nary a second later out of curiosity. She watched in disbelief as Harry pulled a large clove of garlic out of his pocket, and quickly chewed it vigorously before he emerged into the hall where Troy was waiting, the caretaker's eyebrows raised questioningly just above his sunglasses.

Harry grinned slyly, and said, "I just wanted to ask you something."

Troy's eyebrows narrowed suspiciously, and replied, "That being…"

Harry was soon less than a foot from Troy, and took a deep breath. "I want to know what you think of this…" Then Harry exhaled deeply into the caretaker's face.

Troy took a step back, grimacing, but was not reacting at all like Harry had expected. Troy coughed twice, pulled off his sunglasses for a brief moment to wipe his eyes then managed to mutter, "I think you need to brush your teeth tonight. That breath would make a dragon color in envy."

Harry gaped as Troy recomposed himself, and straightened his trench coat. "If that is all you had to ask, I'll be going now. Good day, professors."

The caretaker took a few steps then stopped suddenly. Without turning back, he said with a smirk, "By the way, garlic has been so overused as a weapon against vampires that most of their kin are immune to it by now."

When the itch in Harry scar finally faded to nothing, he commented to Hermione, "He's taunting me."

Hermione nodded, "Are you absolutely positive you're going to keeping digging into this?"

"Yes." Harry answered with all the determination he could muster. "I'm sick of being treated like a child, and if Dumbledore is not going to answer my questions, I'm going to find them out myself."

"Not alone, you aren't." Hermione said. "I already told you that I'd help you if I felt it necessary." She then grinned in teasing, "Besides, someone has to be there to pull you back when you inevitably cross the line."

"Thanks, Herms. It's good to know I can count on at least one person in this school."

Hermione then grew serious. "Good, because I think you need to sort out just what you're trying to find out. At first, you thought that Troy was somehow associated with Voldemort. Now you think he's a vampire… which is it?"

"Maybe it's both… and maybe it's neither." Harry answered with a shrug. "That's one of the many things that need figuring in this mess."

Unfortunately, he still had duties to perform as a Professor, even if he now knew that he was hired on for more than just his suitability for the job. Because of those obligations, investigating just what those other reasons were would prove to be slow going.

Harry and Hermione had started devoting their free periods to gathering as many clues as they could on their new caretaker. Not surprisingly, there were few. As a matter of fact, there were dismally few. They knew that he had come from America (somewhere), and that he had previous meetings with Dumbledore (at some time), and that he likely wasn't a mere Squib if he could take down a vampire (the decayed remains of it had been found just inside the Forbidden Forest without any signs it had been killed by any traditional means). But he likely wasn't a wizard, either, since both he and Dumbledore had said as much, and the few times either Harry or Hermione had gotten close enough to use the magic detecting tools Harry had gathered as an Auror, they got nothing.

"But all that could mean is that his magic isn't of the type normal wizards have. For example, your sneakascope detects enchantments and charms, but it wouldn't detect inherent magical abilities. Firenze, for example, wouldn't show up on a sneakascope at all." Hermione noted one day. "So, what exactly are we supposed to accomplish by finding out just who, or what, Troy is, anyway?"

"Because we need to find out if he really is a danger to this school, and if he is, just how much of a danger. I'm much more worried about a potential vampire inside this school than the one dead one outside it."

Unfortunately, there would prove to be more than one…

The school was abuzz the first Monday of October with the news that another vampire had appeared outside the school. It made the foolish mistake of trying to attack Hagrid when the gameskeeper was returning from one of his forays into the Forgotten Forest. Hagrid had sufficiently battered the creature for Dumbledore to do the rest, but nonetheless, it marked a change from isolated incident, to a repeat threat.

"Are we going to learn how to defend ourselves from vampires?" Fredrick asked Harry as the chimes marked the start of the class period.

"You can't even defend yourself from a newt… how do you expect to fight of a vampire, Freddy?" Norrell sneered, putting intentional stress on Fredrick's nickname.

"Well, I suppose I can understand why it wouldn't bother you…" Fredrick shot back. "A vampire wouldn't get close to you due to your smell."

"That's enough!" Harry shouted sternly before the spat could escalate. "Ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin." Calming himself, he then explained, "For your information, Mr. Cole, we are not going to be learning about vampires. I'm afraid to say that's a topic a little beyond this class's learning at this point. Just stay inside the school after dusk, like you are supposed to, and you will be perfectly fine." As he said that, he hoped with all his heart that was actually true.

The rest of the class did not go smoothly, as the students were understandably distracted, and not at all interested in where to strike a target from the Stunning curse to have optimal effect when just last night a vampire had been roaming about less than two hundred meters away. When the chimes rang to signify the end of class, it was almost a blessing. However, there was one thing he wanted to do before everyone left.

"Miss Fitzsimmons!" Harry called out as the students were packing away their books and notes. "May I see you before you leave today?"

She dutifully approached the desk, and Harry waited until the room was otherwise empty. Julie had been quite forgiving of Harry's outburst roughly a month ago, coming to conclusion that it had been an understandably stressful moment after the first vampire attack, and that he had been sick with worry about the students. He decided it was best for her, and her opinion of him, to believe that.

"I hear that Madam Hooch suggested you get an individual tutor for flying." Harry said. "She thinks you're a natural."

Julie nodded. "I want to play Quiddich next year, but Madam Hooch doesn't have the time to help me, and the house team is busy with practice for the season."

"Well, I was a pretty good seeker in my day." Harry suggested.

Julie's face lit up in joy. "Would you…?"

"I would love to help you, Julie. How about after the evening meal, we can start?"

She nodded vigorously, too excited to speak with any confidence in her voice.

Harry smiled, and said, "Well, I think you should be getting on to your next class. Don't want to be late, now."

Julie nodded, made an awkward curtsey of sorts, and then jogged off into the hall. Harry gave a light chuckle then gathered up the homework assignments on his desk. As he prepared to meet Hermione in the library, Dumbledore appeared in the entry to his classroom.

"Harry, in light of the recent vampire attack, the Ministry of Magic has seen fit to send an Auror to help investigate the matter." Dumbledore said casually, but something about his eyes suggested he was not keen on the decision. "I was wondering if you could meet the newcomer by the dockside and escort him to my office."

Harry did not like the idea of having what little investigating time he did have interrupted, but knew better than to decline any task the Headmaster gave him. Besides, Harry eventually decided another Auror on the grounds could be quite helpful in his investigations.

That is… until he saw who the Auror the Ministry selected was.

"So, Potter… once again, trouble seems to follow you like a lovesick black dog." The Auror said with a light-hearted, yet still venomous, voice

Harry was so incensed he couldn't even offer proper greetings, instead only able to grate out, "Draco Malfoy… fancy seeing you here…"