Late that evening, Harry levitated all of his possessions and walked into a previously empty storage room in a secluded corner of the Ravenclaw common room. After strenuous hours of spellwork he had enlarged and transformed the dusty stone enclave into a perfect copy of his sleeping quarters at his grandmother's estate. Penny had helped with the Enlargement Charms to a degree, as she had worked with them a bit more extensively than Harry himself had. She provided pointers with theory as he did the application. In the end, he was pleased with his work. Now all that was missing was his future roommate. Cho was still busy packing her belongings.

It hadn't been difficult cajoling Professor Flitwick into breaking protocol by allowing them live together. Harry was already a favorite with the majority of the staff due to his outstanding magical potential and hero status, and he was also the son of one of that particular teacher's most cherished students. Flitwick was also understanding of her reluctance to remain living in her previous room. And they were still relatively young at eleven and twelve respectively. Some of the first year boys were rather chagrined at the fact that Harry was effectively ditching them, but that was of little importance to him. He was tired from all of the magic he had cast in creating the room and plopped immediately down onto his comfortable king sized bed, every single crease and lump identical to the original in Surrey. The door remained unlocked for Cho as Harry fell asleep. Classes would commence in the morning, and with them the full Hogwarts experience.

Chapter Seven: The First Week - A Bleeding Heart

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Am I the only one that finds these things to be extremely repetitive and pointless?


At the end of his first week as a Hogwarts student, Harry couldn't help but find himself unimpressed by the majority of the standard curriculum. Even at the second year level, both Charms and Transfiguration were far beneath his level. McGonagall's lesson had involved changing a rat into a wine goblet. Harry had stifled a yawn and done it perfectly with one lazy flick of his wrist, amazing the rest of the class, including the professor. He had likewise easily managed to animate his teapot in the first attempt in Flitwick's class. He spent the remainder of his time in both lessons tutoring Cho, who was average at best with working most charms and borderline horrid at transfiguring objects. She studied her hardest all the time, but that could only compensate so far for a lack of talent.

While those subjects had simply bored him, others had revolted him. He had been most reluctant to even attend Herbology and work with his hands in the dirt. Potting shrivelfigs was far from his idea of a good time, and he did his best not to put much effort forth in the class. It might have been slightly more tolerable had the teacher kept nice flowering plants instead of disgusting abominations with teeth and tentacles. History of Magic was a nightmare. Harry enjoyed reading his history for the most part, but Professor Binns was just a dreadful teacher. Defense Against the Dark Arts could hardly even be called a class, and Astronomy was too far past his bedtime. It was now Friday morning, and Harry was just about to enter what would doubtless be his least favorite class yet.

The Potions classroom was everything that Harry has expected it to be, as he rather unhappily noted upon entry. It was dark and damp, and carried a stench horrid enough to out that one time that Dudley had passed gas right as the main course of supper was being served back at the estate to shame. Neither was he looking forward to having class with Professor Snape. Some students were already in the room. Harry quickly took a seat at the rear table of the dungeon workroom, setting up his porcelain cauldron and getting out his perfectly assembled collection of ingredients. Cho's parents had been most meticulous about arranging his purchases after his hefty expenditure at their little shop.

"This is the Gryffindor/Slytherin block, Potter. You're in the wrong class."

Harry looked up from where he was loading a small incense burner to help fight off the horrid odor of Snape's classroom to see Draco looking at him curiously. A quick schedule comparison with Su Li had given him the reason for his being placed in a separate Potions class from his housemates.

"I'm taking second year Charms and that class conflicts with the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff Potions block, so they put me in this one instead. It doesn't really matter to me, though."

Draco nodded, a small hint of relief in his gray eyes as he took the adjacent seat.

"Well at least I have an excuse not to sit with Parkinson now."

Harry nodded with a slight smile, a bit cheered by the knowledge that he wasn't the only boy in his year being plagued by irritating fangirls. He had thankfully been able to avoid Lisa Turpin at breakfast by surrounding himself with other girls. He still had an unopened letter from home nestled inside his robes. Had he bothered to notice, Harry would have seen house segregation in full swing. Slytherins crowded around Harry and Draco at the rear of the classroom while Gryffindors dominated the front. Just as he moved to light his incense, the doors of the classroom slammed open. Professor Snape wasted no time in beginning his lecture, speaking even as he strode to his position at front of the room. His head was still bandaged from the previous day's spill, as Harry noted with satisfaction.

"There will be no silly wand-waving or ridiculous incantations in this class..."

Snape paused as he reached his desk at the front of the room. He turned on his heel, causing his black robes to swish dramatically. The Gryffindors seemed terrified of the man while the Slytherins were decidedly smug. The lone Ravenclaw was simply amused. He lit his incense with the tip of his wand while pulling his ponytail out of harm's way.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even place a stopper on death – that is, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach. Now then, let us begin today's lesson with the class roll. And put out that incense, Potter. Ten points from Ravenclaw."

Harry pulled a frown as he put out the incense, causing the unpleasant stench of the room to come wafting back into his nostrils. Snape proceeded to call roll, occasionally nodding or sneering at certain names. His face contorted into a scowl upon reaching Harry's.

"Ah, Potter...our little misplaced celebrity. Not even a week into your Hogwarts career and yet you already consider yourself too important to attend lessons with the rest of your house. As we've already documented your sheer lack of common sense, I think we'll test the other facets of your feeble little mind. Tell me, Potter, the concoction that results from mixing powdered root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood."

Draco's eyes narrowed as the Potions Master spoke. Harry just shrugged with a grin. He hadn't bothered to study in advance for such a drab subject as this.

"Some mixture of the two, obviously. Powdered root of wormwood, I guess."

Snape tutted with a small smirk, though his eyes reflected no amusement. Hermione Granger immediately raised her hand. Harry found himself liking the girl less every time he shared a class with her. She had obviously memorized all of the textbooks before coming to school. And yet she hadn't the slightest clue about the real nature of magic. The professor was no more tolerant of the girl than Harry was.

"Incorrect. Clearly, fame still leaves much to be desired. Then let us try again. Tell me where you might look if I asked you to procure a bezoar."

Harry was ready this time. The answer was so obvious.

"In an apothecary, of course."

Several of the other students snickered at the response until Snape fixed the room with a sharp glare. Far from being intimidated by the man, Harry was simply exalting in all the attention. He had become rather used to it during the past week.

"Technically correct, Potter, but not what I was looking for. Another five points from Ravenclaw for a remarkably poor attempt at being witty, and two more for your smug tone. Explain the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane."

Losing House points didn't really faze Harry, as he had gained close to a hundred during the week's other classes.

"Well, they're spelled differently for starters..."

"Wrong again. Try cracking a book next time. Allow me to assure you that the consequences will be unpleasant should you ever again enter my classroom unprepared. For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood in solution creates a sleeping draft so powerful that it is often called the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat that will save you from most poisons, and monkshood and wolfsbane are in fact the same ingredient, that also goes by the name of aconite. You should all be writing this down. Instructions for today's potion can be found on page three of your textbooks. Potter, I do hope that you've at least thought to bring yours."

Harry just ignored the man and retrieved his Potions textbook while Draco glared contemptuously at his Head of House. The greasy man's bullying amused not a single student in the class. Harry was friendly with most of the first year Slytherins and the others were too afraid to cross Malfoy by laughing at his friend's expense, and the Gryffindors tended to hero worship him. If only to irritate Snape, Harry decided to use his wand to brew the entire concoction. It was a simple potion designed to cure boils. Draco whispered in Harry's ear as he levitated his pestle to crush his snake's fangs.

"Don't worry, Harry. Father told me to owl him if Professor Snape gave you any trouble. He seemed to know that this might happen for some reason, though he wouldn't give me any details. Regardless, he'll sort this mess out."

Harry nodded, having no desire to protect Snape from Lucius Malfoy's wrath.

"He was practically snarling at me even during the feast. I can't imagine why."

Harry lazily used his wand to levitate ingredients onto his silver scales until he had them in the correct quantities and then deposit them into his cauldron at the indicated points. He absentmindedly resolved to ask Cho what the Chinese characters painted onto the side stood for. Her parents had told him to touch the charmed stirrer and recite the potion's proper name, and it would mix the brew for him. Once his cauldron was off the fire and the porcupine quills added, Harry took out his letter. He felt Draco nudging him as he started to read. The letter was from the girls, written in Christine's flowery hand. He had only gotten halfway through the second line when...

"Evanesco."

Harry looked up into Snape's sneering face as his nearly completed potion vanished from the cauldron. The tall professor snatched away the letter and slammed it onto the desk. He leaned in close, his coal black eyes boring into Harry's vibrant emerald green.

"I do not allow self-stirring cauldrons and other such amenities in my classes. You are to brew this potion again from scratch tonight in detention, where I can keep an eye on you and ensure that you do not cheat. Zero marks for this lesson and twenty points from Ravenclaw. Peruse your ridiculous fan mail elsewhere, Potter."

Harry pulled a nasty face and put away his letter, crossing his arms and pouting. He said nothing for the rest of the class as Snape occupied himself with berating the Gryffindors, especially Weasley and Longbottom. The latter had managed to melt Seamus Finnigan's cauldron and get sent to the Hospital Wing. Every single Slytherin received some sort of praise regardless of the quality of his or her work, and Draco was awarded ten points for his admittedly perfect potion. The pale boy responded with a curt nod, betraying his own anger with the greasy professor. Draco strode determinedly towards the Owlery as soon as the class was over, while Harry returned to his room. The dandy young wizard would later receive a note during supper informing him that his detention was cancelled, but that he was not to employ illicit brewing aids in future Potions lessons. Professor Snape was visibly flushed and avoided looking Harry in the face from his seat at the staff table. Lucius Malfoy's response to his son's report was prompt and effective, whatever it was.


Harry sat in his transfigured bed hours after that same meal along with a few of the girls from Ravenclaw, dressed in his favorite lavender colored silk shirt with flowered green trousers. His little private palace had quickly become one of the favorite hangouts for the younger female members of the house, and was typically open to anybody of the fairer gender. Professor Flitwick had helped with the wards on the room, amazed to see such a young student have the ability to comprehend graduate level material in his subject, even if Harry was as yet unable to perform the spells himself. Harry briefly considered researching a spell keyed specifically to keep Lisa Turpin out, as the girl seemed to be a constant presence in the room, much to Cho's annoyance. And Harry's as well, as she invariably tried to talk his ear off whenever he attempted to read.

Not that she was his only admirer at this point by any stretch. By the week's end, stories of Harry Potter's sensitivity and preference for girls, as well as his knight in shining armor defense of a bullied classmate had spread throughout the school. As a result, the young boy wonder had quickly found himself the most sought-after companion at Hogwarts. Aside from the few Ravenclaws and Slytherins that actually knew him, practically every girl in his year seemed to have at least a semi-serious crush on him. Harry naturally remained blissfully oblivious to the state of things. His female yearmates were joined by the vast majority of the second years, a respectable number of third years and even a few beyond that. Had Harry been slightly more astute, he would have noticed a particularly well-endowed sixth year Hufflepuff bat her eyelashes and smile suggestively at him during breakfast the previous day.

Right now, his companions consisted of Su Li and Padma Patil, as the three Ravenclaws worked collaboratively on the week's assignments. Cho was out practicing Seeker drills at the Quidditch Pitch as she had been during every moment of her free time ever since tryouts for the team had been announced for the coming Sunday afternoon during the first morning of classes. She was bound and determined to make the team. Harry might have been a bit put out with her for essentially abandoning him, but he had plenty of other friends and pursuits to occupy his time. And he wasn't ignorant of the fact that professional Quidditch was essentially her big dream in life, having listened to her ramble on about the wonders of the game every night since she had moved into his room. He wouldn't dream of standing in the path of that. Presently, Padma pointed out a mistake on his History of Magic essay.

"That's wrong, Harry. Grilthauk the Greedy ascended to the role of chieftain of the unified goblin clans in 1951, not in 1945."

"Oh, right. Thanks, Padma."

"You know, my twin sister's been trying all week to get me to help set her up with you."

Harry shrugged and languidly batted his ponytail around as he scribbled the last three inches of his essay on the current goblin warlord. He was honestly a bit surprised to hear that girls so young were even interested in dating. He also hated studying these boring school subjects and doing assignments, but there was no help for it. By teaming with friends he was able to save time and occupy himself with conversation as he worked.

"Oh, right. The Gryffindor. She and one of her friends accosted me in Astronomy."

Padma rolled her eyes with a somewhat unladylike snort.

"That would be Lavender Brown, the dumb blonde. One of her mates from before school. She's mostly to blame for Parvati being such an airhead. My sister used to be as studious as I am. But ever since she made friends with that bint the only things she's been interested in are clothes and boys. It's no small wonder she's taken such a liking to you."

Harry nodded with a slightly vicious grin. His two study partners were now finished with their essays as well.

"Horrid taste, I might add. That hot pink dress she wears around is positively gaudy. Such a fake manufactured color. But they're both nice enough at least, and not half as annoying as that bloody Granger girl."

Su glanced over and spoke in her soft, shy voice.

"There's nothing wrong with working hard. We're not all heroes and aristocrats, Harry."

Harry let out an irritated breath.

"But that's not what bothers me. She's just so smug about it. Goes around shoving everything she knows in everybody's face, as if we're all supposed to be impressed. Memorizing a bunch of facts doesn't make you a real practitioner of magic."

A third voice chimed in from his now open doorway.

"Reminds me of some showoff that turned one of the school launches into a paddleboat."

Harry immediately flushed crimson at the sound of Penny's voice, immediately picking up his partially read copy of Gilderoy Lockhart's Gadding With Ghouls to hide his burning face. The gesture might have been more effective had he not held the book upside down. Su and Padma turned to one another and smirked knowingly. Harry's crush on the attractive older girl was painfully obvious to anybody that saw him near her.

"I think we've gotten enough done for tonight. See you in the morning."

Harry grabbed each of his two friends in a one-armed hug before they left for their dormitory, closing his bedroom door behind them. Penny watched the scene with a smile before tossing him an envelope and sitting down on the edge of his king-sized mattress. She was dressed only in a sleeveless white shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms and socks. He was mostly too young to even comprehend the desire that he felt for her.

"An owl just brought this in for you, handsome Looks pretty official."

The letter was sealed with the Malfoy crest, and was likely from Draco's father

XXXXXXXXX

Mister Potter,

As you have perhaps surmised from your cancelled detention, Draco saw fit to immediately inform me of the derogatory treatment that you were forced to suffer at the hands of Professor Snape this morning. Such conduct is wholly unbecoming an accredited Hogwarts teacher, and more so in the case of the Head of House Slytherin. You are to be commended for maintaining proper etiquette by refraining from retaliating in kind. I have wasted no time in confronting our beloved Potions Master on this matter, and you may rest assured that there will be no repeat of his reprehensible behavior.

On a more positive note, I have succeeded in locating a suitable fencing master for both Draco and yourself. You will both train weekly at Hogwarts in the old school practice room. I trust that you will remember its location. I daresay that you may both be pleasantly surprised upon seeing exactly whom I have retained for the task. Your first lesson will take place on Sunday afternoon at two o'clock sharp. Be prompt and dress accordingly for physical activity. I hold the highest expectations for both you and my son.

Sincerely,

Lucius A. Malfoy

Chairwizard, Hogwarts Board of School Governors

XXXXXXXXX

Harry chewed his bottom lip nervously upon reading the last paragraph, as his lone companion noticed.

"Looks like bad news, kiddo. Nibbling your lips off isn't going to help, you know."

"It's about my fencing lessons. The first one's on Sunday afternoon, but I was planning on going out and watching Cho try out for Quidditch. She's bound to be disappointed when I tell her that I have to do this instead, and making the team means so much to her."

"Maybe you can postpone. Either way, I'm sure she'll understand. Life can be tough like this sometimes. No matter what you choose to do, you're risking letting somebody down. I understand. And don't worry about Cho not having any support out there. A bunch of us girls are going out to watch the tryouts. We'll be her cheering section in your place."

Harry didn't respond to the option of postponement, as he knew that it wouldn't be possible. He smiled broadly despite his rather depressed mood at the rest.

"I appreciate that. Thanks, Penny."

"You're very welcome, handsome. Now tell me all about your first week of classes."

"Rather boring, to be completely honest. I didn't really learn anything worth knowing at all except for in Astronomy. Herbology and Potions are my least favorite subjects so far. I could potentially appreciate both Charms and Transfiguration, but I was able to perform the spells they taught us this week back when I was seven years old. Both classes are sort of easy if you ask me, despite the fact that I'm taking them at the second year level."

Penny shook her head, her blue eyes reflecting both amazement and amusement.

"Merlin, I remember the early years of Transfiguration just about killing me. Took me a solid month before I could so much as turn a matchstick into a pin. So it's really not so much that the classes aren't hard enough as it is that you're just extremely gifted."

Harry was quite gratified by the compliment, but tried to keep an air of modesty around Penny regardless.

"I've had a long time with nothing to do but learn magic, is all. I'm not that great."

"Just about everybody's seen your paddle boat, kiddo. I overheard Professor McGonagall in her office the other day boasting to a colleague that even most graduate level apprentices couldn't pull that particular bit of spellwork off without a hitch. You're most definitely a prodigy, but it's still good of you not to be arrogant about it."

Harry didn't have a response for that, taking a brief moment before changing the subject. He noticed that she was a little paler than he remembered and had dark circles just barely visible under her eyes.

"You look exhausted."

Penny smiled grimly, but the gesture still managed to retain its comforting quality.

"Nice of you to notice. I've got OWL's this year. The professors are assigning us piles of work from the very start. Snape gave a thirty-inch essay on the magical properties of ginseng on Wednesday. Add my Prefect duties on top of that and I'm totally bushed."

Harry inwardly wished that he could help alleviate her burden somehow, but knew that he would be unable to given his rather lacking knowledge of magical theory. For perhaps the only time in his life, he wished that he had been just a bit more diligent in his childhood studies.

"Maybe you should be sleeping then, but I'm still really glad that you came to visit me. I missed you all week."

"I'm tired, but not really sleepy. More like just drained. But I'm sure you've had a long week too, this being your first at Hogwarts and everything. I'll let you get some shuteye now, handsome. See you tomorrow sometime."

Harry didn't want that at all and desperately grasped her hand as she rose to leave, staring up at the older girl with pleading emerald green eyes and speaking in a low whisper.

"Please stay here with me a little longer."

He felt the gentle warmth of her palm sliding up his arm to his shoulder, and then across his upper back to the other. Harry exhaled quietly at her touch, as if it were some addictive drug that he had been previously denied. Penny's voice was quite soft as well.

"Okay, if that's what you want."

The younger boy took the arm slung around him as an open invitation and plunged himself into her intoxicating body heat, burying his head into her chest as he had in the common room during that first night at Hogwarts. He could touch and smell the supple flesh through her thin and increasingly soaked shirt, making for an entirely different sensation than before. She apparently thought so also, as she tossed her head back with an endearing little whimper, causing her wavy black locks to whip through the air. His cheek presently grazed the center of her left breast, eliciting a mewl that would have brought somebody running into the room if not for the privacy charms that he had erected around his chambers. He knew how to read a girl's reactions from Alyssa and thus ground his hand over the same spot, taking two of Penny's fingers into his mouth as hers slid across his face. Harry was hardly aware that he was sucking on her digits as he savored the sweet taste of her skin, eventually letting go in favor of licking the sweat off of her throat.

"You're beautiful..."

Harry's accidental murmur brought Penny crashing back into reality. She had been lost in her own sensual world for the entirety of their brief encounter, and distanced herself as though Harry had suddenly contracted the plague upon realizing what they were doing. She looked at him cautiously and winced at the hurt expression on his face.

"Harry, we can't do this. We just can't. It's just not right."

Harry looked both wounded and confused simultaneously.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with it at all."

Penny sighed and held his hand, adopting a patient tone of voice.

"Listen to me, Harry. You're barely eleven years old and I'm well on the way to being sixteen. What we were just doing is taboo, and could get us both into a whole world of trouble. Think about what your grandmother would say if she heard of you rolling around in bed with an older girl. I think that you're a very sweet and attractive young man and much more skilled at what we were doing than you need to be at your age, but none of that changes the fact that it's still wrong. And that's not all. I'm also a Hogwarts Prefect. It'd be a major problem for the entire school if word got out that a person in a responsible position was carrying on an underage affair with the magical world's returning hero. Something like this would follow us both around for the rest of our lives."

Harry held no stock by societal conventions, thinking them meant for the common herd and beneath one such as enlightened as he. He thus took Penny's sensible argument as nothing more than an outright rejection of himself as a person. He willed himself not to display any outward sign of his distress, as he felt that bursting into tears on the spot over it would only prove to her that he really was just some sniveling little kid that wasn't worthy of her.

"...I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have been so presumptuous."

His voice betrayed his bitterness at the entire situation. Harry had never really been denied much of anything in his entire life, and so this particular jolt of reality had stung him rather deeply. Kim had used similar arguments with him in the past as well, but had always given him his way when he eventually became upset. He was red in the face, due to a quite unhealthy mixture of embarrassment and rage.

"Please don't be embarrassed. There's nothing wrong with feeling the way that you do. I'm the one that's in the wrong here, handsome. Part of me wants nothing more than to be everything that you want me to be. But it's not right for either of us at this time. I really do care a lot for you, and maybe something might happen when you're a little older."

Harry was in no mood to be coddled at the moment and kept his reply short.

"...Maybe."

He felt her giving him a gentle hug and returned it rather unenthusiastically.

"I'm off to sleep now. I really hope that I won't lose a friend over this."

"Good night, Penny. I'll see you at breakfast."

Penny left with that, leaving Harry alone on his bed. A stream of hot tears wrenched out of his eyes as soon as the door shut behind her. The odor in the room was odd, consisting of a mixture of sweat and Penny's unique scent, as well as a hint of something slightly more pungent that Harry had never experienced before. He was isolated and more upset than he had ever been in his life, and far too humiliated by his personal feelings of inadequacy to even think of seeking out company.

He forcefully dug through his trunk in search of something to read, eventually fishing out the Dark Arts tome that Lucius Malfoy had illicitly given him. The forbidden magic called out to him once again, and this time he did not reject its addictive lure. He opened lexicon and began reading the early chapters, committing the spells and their incantations and wand motions into his memory as he had with all other spell books in his collection. The stabbing pain in his heart numbed and disappeared as he read, and he did so with greater gusto for several hours, when Cho returned from her Quidditch training. The sudden distraction pulled him from his fixation on the tome, which he quickly hid before she could see it. For her part, she was too exhausted to even say hello and only took the time to strip off her dirtied clothes before collapsing onto the bed next to him and falling asleep, dressed only in her sweat-soaked undergarments. Harry held her much tighter than usual that night, craving human contact more than he ever had in his life.


Harry had made a point of avoiding Penny the next day, spending the lion's share of his time with Draco and company in the Slytherin common room and the rest outside watching Cho soar around the Quidditch Pitch on her Comet Two-Sixty. She had been rightfully disappointed when he broke the news of his being unable to come and watch her big tryout due to his fencing lesson. But she had also been as understanding as Penny had predicted she would be, only coercing him into a promise to attend all of her matches should she make the squad. He had happily agreed, and the dispute was over that quickly.

And now he was en route to that very lesson. His hair was simply let down in a mop. Cho had been too busy with her own concerns to have time to do his hair as usual. He was dressed appropriately in a sharp white shirt and sweater vest and trousers, along with his knee breeches and dragonhide boots. He could only vaguely remember where he was supposed to be going when a familiar drawl sounded in front of him.

"Why, Potter. Your pretty hair isn't arranged today. I suppose your maid owled in sick."

Harry looked over with a lazy grin. Draco was wearing a frilly white dress shirt and slacks, along with a standard pair of black shoes. For perhaps the first time, Harry looked slightly more casual and normal than his pale friend. His personality and physique had darkened just the slightest bit since his first foray into the occult, but only those who knew him extremely well would ever have noticed. His vibrant green eyes were just a shade duller, and with the smallest inkling of malice inside. Most would attribute it to a simple consequence of growing up, if they picked up on it at all. He had good friends to counterbalance the corruptive influence of the black magic, Cho and the Ravenclaw girls in his year, Draco and also Penny, even if he was ignoring her at the moment.

"She's not a maid, Malfoy, and she's trying out for Quidditch. Like you wish you were."

Draco scowled and then sneered, a glimmer of appreciation in his gray eyes.

"Nice work, Potter. That was almost mean-spirited. I do hope you know where we're supposed to be going. Father will be beyond furious if he hears that we somehow managed to be tardy for our first lesson."

"I have a general idea. I wasn't exactly paying attention to where I was headed last time."

"How typical. Lead the way, I suppose. And father chastises me for being too oblivious to my surroundings, but not a word to you. It's a travesty."

Harry smiled and shook his black mane.

"Perhaps, though I'm also not a Slytherin like you. Nor am I his son."

"But he wishes that you were sometimes. On both counts."

Harry didn't bother to reply to that, having nothing to say. He supposed he ought to feel honored that a man of Lucius Malfoy's distinction would like to have him as his own son. Then again, such a thing would also come at Draco's expense, as evidenced by the tangible hint of disgust in his voice. Not that Harry noticed it due to his eternal naiveté. The pair presently entered a corridor that Harry recognized as being close to their destination.

"...Follow me. I'm pretty sure I can find the way from here."

Draco only nodded and trailed behind. The reached the training room and entered. A familiar aristocrat stood before them, dressed for a spar with a long epee girded at his waist. The broad hilt of Lucius Malfoy's enchanted silver sword was engraved with serpent carvings. The man's trademark cane was noticeably absent. Harry was visibly surprised to see him but Draco's face betrayed nothing, almost as if he had been fully expecting his father's presence. Lucius had previously been gazing out of the large window and enjoying the splendid view, but turned about gracefully as the door opened. Harry had made no noise, and was rather impressed by the aristocrat's level of awareness.

"Good afternoon, boys. You are both right on time."

Draco was the one to respond, bowing deferentially as usual before his father.

"Father. I seem to recall your expressing that you were too busy to train us personally."

The man's reply bore a small hint of amusement.

"Your memory is astounding, Dragon. Regardless, the Ministry of Magic will no doubt survive one afternoon each week without my continued presence. I did in fact attempt to procure an independent instructor for the both of you but found myself quite appalled by the level of incompetence that my search yielded. Not a single one of the swordsmen whom I tested proved able to last more than a few uninspired exchanges. I could hardly allow any such fools to be responsible for the education of my heir and his friend."

Draco nodded.

"I see. We thank you for gracing us with your priceless time, father."

Harry quickly shook his head in agreement. Lucius's expression waxed sterner in a less than an instant. His metallic gray eyes lost all traces of humor as he came to look more akin to the man that Harry had met in Gringotts on his birthday.

"Consider it your privilege, Draco. Firstly, I am not your father whilst inside this room. You shall henceforth refer to me as Master Malfoy, and the same applies to you, Harry. Now come and stand before me. We will commence our training immediately."

Harry was slightly chagrined at the idea of calling anybody his master, but said nothing. He and Draco both walked silently to stand before the Malfoy patriarch, the dandy young wizard doing his best to mimic his friend's proud and straight posture. He had a certain fluid quality to his, while Draco was completely stiff. Lucius examined his son first.

"Strong and proud. You have not forgotten your previous instruction, excellent."

And then he reached Harry, nodding approvingly at what he saw.

"Powerful, yet graceful. A natural swordsman, indeed. Avery judged you correctly."

Harry kept quiet due to the distinct impression that he was expected not to speak. Lucius waved his wand towards the corner of the room, wordlessly summoning a thin blade much the same as his own, except emblazoned with the Malfoy family crest instead of with snakes. He handed the weapon to his son, who examined it quizzically.

"This was my training sword from my own school days. It has been passed down through the heirs to our ancestral line for generations, and now it falls into your hands, Dragon. I expect that you will treat it with the same respect and care as I did. All of the Malfoy blades are magically bonded to our bloodline, and so I cannot give one to Harry. He will simply have to settle for the school's weapons until he can procure his own."

Lucius inclined his head towards a rack of training blades leaning against the near wall. Harry took the gesture as a command to retrieve one. He first considered a standard rapier in the same make as the one he had used in his brief workout after meeting with Dumbledore, but decided instead to take a sword with a somewhat edged blade that was suitable for both stabbing and slicing. With his tall size, being forced to employ only lunging attacks would not do very well. Lucius seemed to agree.

"A most suitable choice for your physique. A normal rapier would have doubtless crippled your repertoire. Nevertheless, you must eventually learn to properly wield one, as you will find that most formal tournaments mandate their usage. But we are nowhere near that point at the present time."

Lucius then seamlessly progressed into the day's activities.

"We will begin with an hour of calisthenics. In a proper duel, suitable conditioning is every bit as important as skill. This is equally true for wand battles. Many a wizard has met his downfall solely due to poor physical stamina. We will cover the exercise regimen in detail today, and I will expect you to progress through it daily. One workout per week will prove wholly insufficient to condition yourselves to the degree that my training will require."

Harry knew that this had more to do with his own physio-magical dilemma than it did with the training itself, and felt a bit flattered that Lucius was catering the program to meet his individual needs. As promised, the older man tortured their bodies and depleted their energy reserves for a solid hour. Harry was too exhausted to even stand after the strenuous workout, and Draco was more than a little flushed in his own right. Lucius was none the worse for wear at all, and seemed torn between amusement and disdain with how easily his two young pupils were drained. He reached into his traveling cloak from where it rested on a chair and withdrew two small flasks of water laced with a potent restorative draught. Harry found himself fully rejuvenated after drinking, leaving him with a greater respect for the art of brewing potions. Not that he gained any desire whatsoever to partake in it. The discipline was still far too vulgar and disgusting for him.

"Now that you are both properly stretched and acclimated to exertion, we will begin fencing properly. First, you will both adopt the form that you feel to be most suitable. You will optimize your potential through defining your own styles from the first rather than being forced to rigidly adapt to mine. No two swordsmen are identical. Many fencing master produce substandard results due to brazen attempts to mold their apprentices into copies of themselves."

Still neither boy said a word as they obediently followed their instructor's directions. Draco stood sideways and held his epee straight out in front of him pointing at Harry, resting a good bit of his weight on his closer foot. It wasn't a very defensible position, instead being designed for rapid and aggressive jerking stabs and swings. Harry meanwhile took a much more elegant pose, arching his right leg forward and resting his full weight on it while holding his blade upwards in front of him bent at a slight angle. His position was better suited to a defensive style, parrying and then countering with powerful and fluid downward slashes and lunging thrusts. He looked much like a noble knight as he stood. Lucius meticulously corrected both of their forms, gently guiding their bodily positions in order to maximize their effectiveness.

"I have always felt that experience is the best teacher. I will therefore ask the two of you to spar one another ten bouts, during which I will critique your individual performances. Your blades are both blunted so as not to cause any serious harm, and thus you may feel free to give no quarter. I am expecting you both to display your best efforts. I must be able to gauge your full abilities and mental states in order to augment them. Begin."

Harry took the first bout with ease, sidestepping Draco's awkward initial thrust and sending his blade clattering to the floor with a flowing overhand chop. Lucius nodded approvingly with a slight smile while Draco scowled in indignation. The second was more difficult, as the Malfoy heir then had something to prove. Harry parried the initial flurry, almost getting hit on the shoulder with a particularly nasty swing. He eventually knocked Draco's blade arm off to the side with a powerful thrust and than whirled around and caught the young aristocrat flush across the stomach with a roundhouse swing. He lost the third bout, as Draco's barrage of thrusts easily broke through his guard. Harry was stabbed four times in succession as a result. Draco was now remembering his form and Harry was having far more difficulty with him. The younger Malfoy took the next several bouts, while Harry won a particularly taxing seventh round with a powerful thrust. That effort exhausted the normally sedentary boy, and his pale friend rapidly won the remaining three bouts and convincingly took the series by a score of seven to three.

"Excellent work, both of you. Draco, you exhibit more skill than I had originally presumed. Apparently your informal childhood lessons have remained with you into the present. You fought very well. Harry, you show truly remarkable promise and display both impeccable poise and astounding prescience. I was most impressed with your performance in the three bouts that you won, and also in the seven that you did not. However, both of you display certain weaknesses. Draco, you are wholly lacking in any sort of defense. Any swordsman that survives your initial flurry can wound or disarm you with ease. You are a Slytherin. Such brash recklessness is unbecoming. Harry, you are appropriately cautious, but your counterattacks are slow and telegraphed, and thus quite easily avoided. You place far too much emphasis upon showmanship. You attacks are elegant but impractical. Stellar performances for your first formal lessons, boys. Remember to exercise daily and ponder your mistakes for next Sunday's training."

Each gulped down another bottle of restorative water and followed Lucius out into the corridor. The aristocrat then grilled them on their first week of school, asking for their opinions of the quality of instruction as well as the professors themselves. Harry was tempted to ask what Lucius had threatened Snape with to cow the greasy man. He refrained, however, considering it to be a rude question. He couldn't help but start to think of Lucius in a somewhat fatherly manner given the way that the man treated him in identical fashion to his own son. The senior Malfoy was terminally stern and demanding but one could easily tell that he cared for his son very much underneath. Draco eventually left to walk his father to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Harry was invited to follow along but politely declined and returned to his dormitory. Ravenclaw Tower seemed to be bustling with much more activity than usual.

"There you are, Harry. I did it. I got the starting Seeker position."

Harry grinned broadly at Cho's beaming enthusiasm.

"That's wonderful news. I guess I'll have to attend all the matches now."

She hugged him in response. His own exhaustion and personal issues were completely forgotten in his happiness for his friend.

"Remember, you promised."

"I won't forget."

And so, Harry's tumultuous first week at Hogwarts ended on a high note. But this simplistic felicity was not meant to last. For soon, far greater trials than a jilted heart would stand in the young prodigy's path.

(End Chapter Seven)

Author's Note: Almost half a month late, but here's the next chapter. Summer term papers, two successive updates to my other story, new video game, and now the start of the fall term have stood in the way of an update. My big announcement here is to say that I will likely be skipping over the second and third years of canon in this fic and moving on to where the action picks up in fourth. Events will mostly mirror canon anyway with some detailed alterations, but I can deal with those in summary format where needed. I'll edit in some more comments later tonight, but I now have to shower and dress for class. Later everybody. Hope you enjoyed, and please review.