Chapter 1: Cruciatus Tandem

He glared around at his loyal Death Eaters. They cowered. They knew they'd failed him. Bellatrix stared up at him. "Bella. You failed." That was all it took for her to get down on her face and start blubbering and grovelling, begging him to spare her. He smirked, and idly raised his wand, when his attention was caught by the newcomer to the circle, who was standing, smirking, and waggling his finger.

"Tsk, tsk. Wouldn't do that if I were you, Tommy-boy." Despite his anger, Lord Voldemort noted that the man in front of him was using his left hand for that ridiculous gesture of his and was twirling a wand idly between the fingers of his right hand. He took a moment to study his opponent. Despite his ridiculous pose, the man was very much tensed and ready for action.

Still, this man had insulted him. How dare he use the Dark Lord's pitiful Muggle name? Voldemort moved his wand to the insulting personage in front of him. "Do not call me that. Crucio."

The man's smirk disappeared, and concentration appeared on his face for a brief instant as he levelled his wand at the Dark Lord. The Cruciatus hit him, but amazingly, he remained standing, and did not scream. Instead, he choked out a few words. "Cruciatus Tandem." Pain filled Voldemort's body, and after a brief struggle, both he and his opponent gave wordless cries of pain before the Dark Lord managed to break the curses.

"Who?" Voldemort was gasping.

The man, incredibly, smirked at him, then Apparated away.


Harry Potter woke up shaking and reached for his glasses. As his hand closed on them, he heard a very soft pop on the other side of his bed. He dove off his bed and snatched his wand with the hand that wasn't holding his glasses. He quickly shoved his glasses on his face and pointed the wand at the place where the noise had come from.

A man sat there, and after a second Harry recognized him as the man who had cursed Voldemort in his dream. The man spoke, softly. "Good reflexes, boy." His voice was deep and mellifluous, tinged with pain. He continued. "I take it you felt that little episode? My apologies."

Harry managed a weak smile, but didn't lower the wand. "S'all right, I suppose. You hurt him, so it's worth it."

The man grinned, then pulled a wand, turned it around, and handed it to Harry. Harry stared for a second, then took it and put it on the nightstand. His own wand went into a pocket as Harry turned on the lamp. The man blinked a few times, and Harry got a good look at him.

The stranger had shoulder-length jet black hair tied off in the back, a lightly tanned face marred by a pale scar running down his left cheekbone, and seemed rather well-built physically. But it was the eyes that shocked Harry. They were a very familiar emerald green. They were the eyes that he saw every morning in his mirror. His mother's eyes.

The man took in his expression, and nodded. "Allow me to introduce myself. Alexander Smith, bearer of too many titles and connected to too many pureblooded families for me to recite at three in the morning after getting hit by a Cruciatus. The only title that matters right now is 'your new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.'"

Harry nodded. "I don't suppose you have something to prove that last bit? It's not that I don't trust you, it's just…"

"It's just that you don't trust anyone completely. Good man. That kind of thinking will keep you alive. Has in the past, if half the stories I've heard are true. Bloody Dumbledore and his insane idea of what constitutes 'protection.'" He handed Harry a piece of parchment bearing the Hogwarts crest at the top.

To Whom It May Concern:

The bearer of this letter is one Alexander Smith, Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His integrity may be trusted.

Signed,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Harry recognized Dumbledore's loopy handwriting and nodded. He handed the parchment back. "So are you a member of…" He stopped, realizing that if this man was in fact not a member of the Order, then talking about it was a bad idea.

"Am I a member of Dumbledore's precious Order? I should say not. I'm rather loosely allied with them, but I refuse to join them. I'm a bit of a loner, you must understand, don't like having authority figures ordering me around when I can do a better job on my own. Still, I obey Slytherin's Second Rule of Strategy. 'The enemy of my enemy is my ally.' And Voldemort is most definitely my enemy."

"Slytherin's Second Rule?" Harry's voice held quite a bit of surprise. "What's the First Rule?"

"The First Rule is 'If you don't like the rules of the game, change the rules.' That's rather good advice too. Salazar Slytherin might have been a prejudiced bastard according to some, but if he was, he was an absolute genius of a prejudiced bastard. There's a reason why cunning is one of his House's attributes."

Harry just stared, then started chuckling. "That is good advice, and it sounds like stuff he'd say. Did he play chess, by any chance?"

"Harry…may I call you Harry? Salazar Slytherin was the one who invented wizard chess. The Muggle game was already around, but he was the one who modified it."

Harry nodded. "Right then. To more important questions. What the hell are you doing in my bedroom at three in the morning?"

Professor Smith had the grace to look abashed. "Ah, well, to be perfectly honest, it didn't occur to me until after I pulled that little stunt that you might be feeling it, despite the fact that I knew about your link, so I decided to pop over and make sure you were functional." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a vial of sky-blue potion. "Mild pain-relief and muscle-relaxant potion, that is. Mostly used to help people sleep off aches from strenuous physical activity. No bad side effects, but don't combine it with Dreamless Sleep unless you want to sleep for a week. I'll be around, stop by at least once a week, if that's all right with you?"

"As long as future visits are at a more reasonable hour." Harry took the vial from the Professor and handed the man's wand back. Professor Smith nodded, and Apparated away with a soft cracking sound, followed by a whoosh as air rushed to fill the space he'd just been. Harry climbed back into bed. He put his wand back on the nightstand, downed the contents of the vial, and switched off the light. He was asleep again within a minute.