Hogwarts wasn't everything. Harry had always known that. It wasn't the whole world and it didn't secretly control it from the shadows. Hogwarts was a small section of the Wizarding World packed away into some old dreary castle.

That's not to say it's completely unimportant. It's still a School of Magic, one of few, and the one which trained the upper echelon of Britain. Any and every Pureblood had walked through its halls at some point. Any and every future pureblood would do the same.

It was the place where the young were inducted into the society of the old. One could make their future here by impressing the right people. But they could also destroy it by pissing off the wrong ones.

Some of his classmates had parents who, if offended, would not look kindly on himself or the Potters. Harry had always known that and therefore had to walk very carefully. He had to weigh the benefit of his position and how it could help him versus the people he angered and the bridges he burned.

He had always been sure to be at the very least, fair. Or at the least, give the impression of being fair. If there was nothing substantial or real his enemies could criticize him for, then many would simply dismiss his opposition as silly children. As much as pureblood families loved their pride, they also loved power and influence. They could believe the rumors or stories their children told them for all he cared. But as long as the risk of going against him and his family was heavier than what could be gained from maintaining relations with the Potters they wouldn't act.

So why would he intentionally give the impression of being completely unfeeling and being "incapable of loving anyone?" What was to gain from that? Perhaps if his situation were different such a persona or act would be beneficial. But not while at Hogwarts; not while his future was still unclear.

Harry flinched slightly as a cat crawled over to him from behind the tree. It was pitch black and he only noticed it in the dark because of its eyes. Harry didn't like cats. One might say that he hated them in fact.

Harry was about to brush the beast away when halfway in between, he stilled his hand. Resuming his motion, Harry awkwardly set his hand on the cat's head.

Harry tried to look for the feeling of "love" as he brushed the animal. Could one consciously feel the emotion that was "love?" He looked into the cat's eyes which stared back blankly.

No, nothing. Whatever he felt, it was not love. Still, Harry made no move to scare the cat away as he set his head back onto the tree and closed his eyes.

His mind quickly drifted back to his cousin. If there was anyone he was sure he cared about, it was her. How could she not believe that? Even in his first memories, they were always together. They spent many nights at each other's houses and there were more than a few times he had comforted her. Whether it be a storm, a scolding from her parents, or just because something looked a bit too suspicious under the darkness of her room.

In their first year, they stood side by side. She, unlike others in their year, needed no threats, displays of dominance, or manipulation. He had never felt the need to completely force his control over her. Was that not love?

Harry couldn't be sure anymore, he had thought it was. How many late nights had they spent together at home and in Hogwarts, long after the excuse of "being scared" or wishing for "comfort?"

What about his siblings? He knew for a fact he loved them, even Jack. What had he done to that despicable boy in Flora's year? Did he not do it because he cared for her?

He was trying to secure Gryffindor by taking the Headgirl for them. He was trying to protect the Potters by securing Gryffindor and Jack as his "heir." Why would he do all of that if not because he cared for his siblings?

He wanted them to succeed and to become as strong as they could be. There was absolutely no way that what he felt for them all was anything but love, right?

Was caring and loving not the same thing, perhaps? Can you love something yet not care for it? Can you care for something yet not love it? That didn't seem right. If your actions proved you cared for something then you must also love that thing. That's what love actually is, isn't it? Caring for something so much you'd do anything for it.

Harry scoffed at the definition. It was proof that Lyra had been wrong. There were many such things that he loved according to his definition. Things like… To Harry's slight surprise he found himself unable to come with an answer immediately.

He would do anything for his siblings, sacrifice anything, that's true, isn't it? Harry's eyebrows furrowed slightly as thought back to Flora's first year. At what he had allowed to happen… at what he refused to sacrifice… But that had all been for them in the end, so it didn't count, right?

Harry continued down the mental list of actions he took and those he didn't. He thought of the people he knew he loved and what he had done for them.

He knew she was wrong, she-

The cat broke Harry out of his thoughts as it leaped from Harry's grasp and ran down the hill Harry sat on. He watched as it continued on before disappearing into dense foliage nearby.

Just as he was about to rest his head on the tree once more, someone interrupted him.

"It's past curfew, you know?" The voice called out.

Harry's lips curled slightly at the interruption but he hid it in a small smile. "So it is," he responded, glancing towards the girl.

Margery Gaunt. Her long black hair shone in the moonlight. He could just barely recognize her face. She was certainly beautiful, one of, if not the most beautiful witch in their year. Only according to some gossip Harry had heard, of course.

"May I join you?" She asked as she came closer.

"Would my refusal stop you?" Harry asked dryly. Perhaps he should be a bit kinder to her but at the same time, he was tired, they were academic rivals, and they just had that sort of relationship.

"It never does, silly." She replied before sitting uncomfortably close to him. He wouldn't move away from her though. That would pretty much be accepting defeat.

The two watched the moon shine over the lake for a few minutes with neither saying anything until she ruined it.

"My, are you not going to compliment how beautiful my skin looks under the moonlight?" She exclaimed.

If Harry was any other teenage boy he might stutter and blush in response. But Harry was well used to her teasing, not that it would affect him much even if he wasn't, at least, according to himself.

"I simply didn't want to ruin the moment," Harry spoke in response, refusing to turn and look at her.

'Tsk' she clicked her tongue in response.

Harry was just about ready to escape the situation when she spoke again. He cursed internally, he should've left only a few seconds earlier.

"Care to make a wager, Potter?" She asked him seriously, the teasing was gone from her voice.

"On?" Harry asked after hesitating a moment. He couldn't resist.

Margery shot him a dirty look as if she was angry he pretended to not know. He had suspicions but he wanted her to confirm them. "On who will win this… 'game,' of Hogwarts. Who will prove themselves to be the next Dumbledore?" She clarified, putting air quotes on the word "game."

"Oh? Isn't Dumbledore still alive? And what would the wager be?" Harry continued, intrigued. He hadn't expected her to say it so clearly. He, himself, hadn't planned on being so open about it to her, even though she had to know.

"Hmm," she hummed in thought. Harry rolled his eyes as he waited for her response like she hadn't thought out this whole conversation already. She may not have expected his comment about Dumbledore but it didn't matter because she simply ignored it.

"If I win, I get one request from you. Anything at all. No matter what. No exceptions or ifs or buts. You have to accept it." She spoke. Harry noticed a slight blush on her cheeks from the corner of his eye but didn't comment on it. Was it possible that their lack of desire for a relationship was less mutual than he had thought? Or was this just a deception? One to lull him into accepting the wager foolishly?

"And If I win?" Harry asked, waiting for the insult.

"Please, like you-"

"If I win?" Harry cut her off.

Margery clicked her teeth in irritation before continuing. "IF you win, same deal. You can… you can ask anything from me and I'll accept. No matter what." She spoke, her voice coming out softer as she went on.

This time Harry was positive her passiveness, soft voice, and blush was just a deception. But it didn't make the gamble any less appealing. Anything he wanted…

Forgetting Margery herself, the Gaunts were powerful. His family hated to admit it, but they all knew the Gaunts had more influence and strength than them. An undeniable favor with any Gaunt would be a significant boon to his future career and life. Margery herself was the heir and daughter of the Gaunts. Loath as he was to admit it, but she was a match for him in academics and strength with the wand. She would one day be just as important as her father if not more so. Harry had no doubt of that.

Harry turned back to the girl to accept the wager when he noticed how close she was. She was looking at him, slightly wide-eyed. He had to lean away slightly as he turned to face her, to not kiss her.

"Did you know that your face practically screamed your thoughts just then? I doubt anyone other than me can read your face though, so don't worry. I won't tell anyone what you're thinking." She spoke as if she was doing him a favor, finally, she turned away, to watch the moon.

"Oh? And what was I thinking?" Harry asked, readjusting himself.

"How could you ask an innocent witch like myself to repeat what I saw on your face? I refuse!" She exclaimed passionately, with a soft blush.

"Pshh, like you're an innocent witch. Regardless, I accept your wager." Harry spoke, holding out a hand, if it was anyone else he may have wanted a contract or something to guarantee both sides' cooperation. But he knew Margery would hold up her side.

Margery looked a little startled for a moment, perhaps she hadn't thought he would be that easy, but a smile slid into place as she took his hand.

"So what happens if neither of us wins?" Harry asked after a moment. He had thought of the possibility earlier but truthfully he refused to allow it to happen. Either he would crash and burn or he would win it all, he would not settle for another year of mediocrity. But he was curious as to her opinion on the idea. He wanted to know if she felt the same way.

"Do you think that's a possibility?" Margery asked honestly. Harry snorted at the response. He shouldn't have expected anything else.

"No," Harry responded. Margery only hummed, holding off her own opinions on the matter.

The two settled back into relative silence as they watched the waves battle back and forth against the land.

"Are you scared, Harry?" Margery eventually asked

"About the wager?" Harry asked. Was he scared? Scared of what? He didn't intend to lose. He-

"No… Not about the wager. About everything else. You and I… We're more similar than you might think. I'm asking if it's- if you-" Margery couldn't finish her thought. Harry turned to look at the girl but she refused to look away from the shining moon. There was a slight tint to her cheeks that he could only see under the moonlight. This time, he had no doubt her blush was real. In any case, she didn't need to finish her thoughts, he already understood.

"I did when I was younger… but not now. At least not for the reasons you're thinking of… I've realized that no matter what happens, as long as I have myself, I don't need anything else." Harry replied honestly.

Margery hummed quietly and something told Harry that she wasn't quite satisfied with that as his answer. But a second later he felt her heavy head fall onto his shoulder.

"I bet it's so much easier being the younger sibling. They don't have to walk into Hogwarts alone and remain that way for years, perhaps forever. They won't have to go into the world alone either, they only have to follow in our footsteps." Harry whispered. He wasn't sure why he was telling her this. Or if he even truly believed his own words, perhaps he was simply frustrated.

Margery didn't respond once again, her breathing was slow and even. Harry wouldn't put it past her to fake being asleep so he couldn't be sure but-

As Harry watched her sleeping form, he couldn't help the stray thought from forming in his mind. He wondered if it would really be such a bad thing if he lost to her…

Harry turned away quickly, but smoothly, to avoid disrupting her. He pushed his warm face into the cold of the night to help him relax. Briefly, he noticed the foliage down the hill ruffle slightly as he saw the cat peek its head out of a bush.

No… he couldn't lose. He refused to. He glanced back at the girl on his shoulder, just to be sure, and felt nothing of his previous hesitance. He wouldn't allow any rogue feelings to ruin years of effort and dedication.

…

Harry slowly made his way up the spiraling stone steps. To meet with the Headmaster for any other was an honor. For him, it did little besides leave him uneasy. Harry knew that something much more animalistic, more bestial, lay beneath the great wizard's exterior. Harry respected the man too much to ignore it.

Harry cast his gaze around the antique room, looking for the man himself.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, thank you for making time to see me. If I remember correctly, the life of a Headboy is a very busy one." The Headmaster spoke, gently pulling Harry into his office.

"Not as busy as you are now, I'm sure," Harry said evenly. He wasn't exactly sure why the Headmaster had requested him. Really, it was posed as a request but a request from the Headmaster is as good as an order.

"Perhaps, but at my age, being busy is good… Now, about why I wished to speak with you." Dumbledore spoke more firmly, sitting down in his large chair.

"As you know, Hogwarts will be having some guests this year, exceptional wizards from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Your family is one of our proudest so I have no doubt you've heard about the border disputes, increasing tension, increasing military presence on both sides… The general public doesn't know this but it's very likely we'll be at war with the Austrians within a year. Perhaps as soon as the Triwizard tournament finishes," Dumbledore spoke with a grave tone that didn't match his eyes.

Harry nodded, his face remaining stoic in front of Dumbledore. He had heard the news from various sources as well. But to hear from Dumbledore himself that war would soon be upon them was different.

"I see if that were true… Why is it that you are telling me?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore smiled slightly before taking a mint. With a hand gesture, he offered one to Harry but was quickly refused.

"You need not concern yourself with any of that. After all, you're still just a schoolboy. I'm telling you so that you'll be on your guard. I don't expect anyone to try anything, not here, not in this institute of higher magical learning. But we can never be too safe, can we?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically.

"I also wished to request your help with our own student body. Any undue fights or provocation would not do well in this time of political turmoil. We must present ourselves as united to our Eastern brethren." Dumbledore finished.

Harry nodded. "Yes sir, I agree," he said. It wasn't like he would've done anything else. He didn't need Dumbledore to tell him what he already knew but he remained silent regarding that.

"I can keep control over my own house but what of the others… Without any school-sanctioned leadership within their house, they might ruin the image you're trying to create…" Harry spoke. Perhaps he could gain something from this meeting after all.

"Yes indeed, I have full faith in you as I do with Miss Gaunt as well. For that reason, I'll be granting you both additional powers as disciplinarians for Hogwarts. Of course, I must tell you not to abuse your power or there will be consequences." Dumbledore advised with a tilt of his head.

"Of course, Headmaster"

"Now, I have already spoken to Miss Gaunt about this as well and she is in agreement. I understand what this year means for you both; what you are both trying to accomplish. I respect your ambition but I must ask you to keep it respectable and contained. In times as tumultuous as these, we must be ever cognizant of the effects of our actions…" Dumbledore trailed off, letting his words hang in the air.

"Of course, Headmaster. I understand completely." Harry assured the man.

Dumbledore's lips curled into a small smile. "Good. Now, as you have said, we are both busy men. I will not use up your time any longer." The Headmaster said, dismissing the boy in front of him.

Harry nodded before clearing out of the Headmaster's office. Harry walked quickly through the hallways back to Gryffindor Tower with a contemplative look on his face. Dumbledore hadn't discussed specifics of his new powers but he was sure he would find out soon enough. Would they be anything substantial? Or just enough to assign Harry and Margaery a job of controlling his school without really giving them anything in return?

…

Harry ducked under the red curse which would have sent him to the hospital wing for days. Yeah, she was definitely angry at him.

"Do you have something you wish to say to me?" Harry taunted in a mocking tone.

Whether the girl in front of him was angry in the first place was up for debate. Whether she was angry after that comment… Well… That was a certainty.

The black-skinned witch twirled her wand in a circle and chanted a spell before a lasso of fire erupted and shot out towards Harry. Harry had to summon a wall of water to block the attack.

"Angelina, love, where has this side been hiding? I'm loving it but are you sure you want to play so dangerously with me?" Harry taunted once more.

Angelina ignored her boyfriend in favor of shooting, in quick succession, arrows made from stone. Arrows that had they hit a Muggle, they would have surely killed them instantly.

Harry wrestled control of the stone in the last second and reformed the arrows into a creation of his own. He reformed the stone into multiple small rocks which hovered, surrounding him.. The stones slowly changed color from brown all the way to a bright yellow as they heated up. Once all of them were molten red, Harry recombined them into one large object.

Harry had to focus on maintaining his concentration as he dodged one of his girlfriend's spells. He briefly noticed an explosion go off from behind him.

Multiple at a time, pieces broke off from the molten rock and shot forward at incredible speed. Too quick to dodge all of them and Angelina wasn't sure how to block such an attack. Harry stopped after the third molten pellet hit the girl. Releasing the stones, Harry quickly cast the Incarcerous charm and disabled the girl completely.

"It was a good effort, Angelina. I was almost surprised when you started to try and really hurt me." Harry called out as he fixed the dueling room and combined the stone pellets into one large rock at the side of the room.

"Anger is a good motivator and it helps adrenaline kick in. But you should never lose your head in a battle. You should always-"

"Just shut up and untie me!" Angelina shouted from the other side of the room.

Harry sighed as he walked over to his tied-up girlfriend. "Don't be a sore loser. I told you that you did really well, didn't I?" Harry asked, confused.

"I'm done! We're breaking up Harry!" Angelina shouted, even angrier as she struggled against the ropes.

"Why? I've been a good boyfriend, haven't I?" Harry asked, slightly confused.

"Because you're a disgusting asshole, Harry! Untie-"

"Careful, Angelina. Careful." Harry warned with a soft smile still on his face.

"This is what I'm talking about! You can't just threaten me when I do something you don't like-"

"And why can't he? Has your rise to power made you forget what you are, halfbreed?" Lyra called out as she entered the dueling room.

Harry cursed internally. It was like she had a tracking charm for drama. She always seemed to be right where the action took place.

"You're even worse, you insufferable, inbred whore!" Angelina shouted angrily. Her eyes widened in fury as she saw Lyra.

Quick as a flash, Angelina gasped in pain, a large cut was soon to form on her cheek. Red blood poured out as Angelina whimpered. Harry sighed as he looked over to his cousin. She had a way of doing things that brought Harry discomfort. He had no problem with the action itself, just how frequently she relied on it. There were other methods… softer ones. Ones that wouldn't leave hatred and vengeance behind everywhere you went.

Harry stopped his cousin before she could continue, he knew what she was about to do. He had seen the look on her face before. The one which screamed insanity and yet complete control at the same time.

"Lyra, that's enough," Harry ordered before she could finish her wand movement. Lyra turned to glare at him in response but made no movement to finish the spell.

After a brief staring contest, she huffed in annoyance and walked out of the room. Presumably to cause chaos somewhere else.

Harry knelt in front of Angelina and released the ropes before taking her face in his hands. The cut was bad but not terrible. Perhaps he had been wrong, maybe Lyra hadn't been about to seriously hurt her.

Slowly the cut sewed itself back together under the guiding hands of Harry. "Why Harry?" Angelina asked after a moment of staring into his eyes.

Harry hummed in confusion as he focused on fixing the cut.

"She's a monster… she's- why do you stay with her? Why do you love her?" Angelina asked. Perhaps Harry was wrong but he felt there was an unspoken question that Angelina had wanted to ask but didn't.

"We're all a bit monstrous, Angelina. Were you not just trying to seriously hurt me? Did you not just want me to feel a bit of the misery you felt inside of yourself? Isn't that what a monster does? Spreads their own misery?" Harry asked as rubbed her healed cheek with his thumb.

Angelina opened her mouth to respond but Harry cut her off before she could. "Enough, you're tired. I'll take you to the medical ward to recover."

"W- Wait-" Angelina tried before her head collapsed into Harry's hands. It was a shame, really, Harry thought as he pulled the prefect pin from her robes. He had liked her, perhaps even cared for her. Gently, he heaved her into his arms and stood.

He had done everything he could to help heal her. Her face was fully healed but the internal damage would be a little harder and take a bit longer. But she also wouldn't suffer anything permanent.

It would only be the first of what she would have to face, Harry knew. The half-bloods were just as two-faced and cruel as the purebloods. While she was a prefect they probably loved her for the semblance of control she had given them. But now that she wasn't, she was just the half-blood who thought she was better than them and betrayed them for the Purebloods, even though all of them would do the same in a heartbeat.

"Open" Harry hissed to one of the walls. The wall slowly started folding in on itself as a pathway was opened. Harry levitated the still unconscious girl into the opening and walked through.

Being a parseltongue was awfully useful, especially in Hogwarts. Harry had found many such passages in some of the most obvious and weirdest places. Some lead down to the chamber while some lead into smaller "hubs." Harry assumed that this one, which he found years ago, was for anyone who had lost a duel or was about to lose a duel. It was an escape route for any parseltongue in Gryffindor, though there were many others in the tower.

Harry walked silently, going up and down, left then right in a series of forks and twists that he had memorized long ago.

Finally, he popped out close by to the medical floor. Harry walked in and flagged down one of the nurses.

"And what happened this time?" The nurse asked, not seeming like she cared too much about his response.

"Oh, just some accidents while training. She got roughed up a bit as you can see." Harry responded.

"Mmhmm," the nurse hummed doubtfully before shooing the boy away. He wasn't too worried. There wasn't much she could do even if she didn't believe him. Like all things in their society, the dice were stacked in favor of the Pure Blooded.

Harry slowly walked back to Gryffindor Tower with an odd, cold, feeling. When had he felt it before? Oh right… Did this prove that he was incapable of love then? In his defense, he never claimed to love Angelina. Harry considered the events as he walked down the quiet, empty, halls of the school.

…

It was almost weird how normal it was. Just almost though. He didn't know what he had expected to be different this time. It wasn't the first time he had replaced one of his prefects; it might not be the last.

Hector and Percy had noticed Angelina's absence quickly but all questions were silenced when Harry showed them the prefect badge. From then on, they acted like they didn't even know her. Like she hadn't been a prefect with them for months.

Harry would have normally acted the same way too. So what was different about this situation? Was it the situation? Or was it the person? Harry wondered as he glanced down the table to the dark-haired witch.

She had recovered quickly, thanks to Harry, though she hadn't expressed it. If he hadn't acted so quickly her time on the hospital floor would have been extended.

Like Harry had predicted, she had been ostracized from her year almost completely. She even showed up with additional bruises occasionally.

Turning away from the witch, Harry focused back on his meal. Steak and asparagus, a meal for kings.

"Are you going to enter the Triwizard tournament, Harry?" Oliver Wood asked. Harry looked up and focused on the dark-haired man.

He was another half-blood but he had stronger blood than Angelina. He hadn't chosen him because of that though. He really chose Oliver because of how popular he was among the half-bloods and even some Purebloods. His likeability was most likely due to his extreme skill at Quidditch and his weird ability to worm his way in with anyone.

"Yeah, probably. What about you? Or will you be busy with Quidditch?" Harry asked in response.

Of course, he would be entering the tournament. He couldn't not enter the tournament. Forgetting his family, his house very well might eat him alive.

Not only that but winning the damn thing would significantly increase his fame. It was just what he needed before saying goodbye to Hogwarts, a farewell present.

"I'll probably enter but I doubt I'll be picked. Not with people like you and Lyra entering." Oliver said smoothly.

"Quite right, Oliver. You-"

Harry cut off his cousin before she could say something pointless and foolish. "You never know, it's not always us who get picked. There have been many half-bloods who were selected." Harry reminded him. It was true, though, half-bloods were seldom selected.

"Yeah, but you two are once in a century talents. I'm just good at Quidditch!" Oliver continued.

Lyra seemed to swoon at his words, though her act was probably fake. "Oh Oliver, you really know how to compliment a woman. Harry here could learn from you." She said sweetly before making sure to insult her cousin.

"How can it be once in a century if there are two of us?" Harry asked, ignoring Lyra.

"Er… It- I mean…" Oliver stumbled over his words, his face beating up.

"That just means no one capable of matching our talent will come for 200 years, Harry. Please, try to keep up." Lyra cut in, saving Oliver.

Harry refrained from commenting, decking to let the conversation fizzle out. The last thing Lyra needed was her ego growing even larger.

"Do any of you remember the students from Durmstrang? Totally barbaric, they were. I'm almost surprised they're coming at all. All of them are cowards, the whole lot of them." Hector spoke eventually.

"No, only you and Percy went. Lyra and I stayed in Hogwarts, remember?" Harry asked, snorting.

"Oh, right…" Hector mumbled.

"I wanted to go, but I couldn't leave Harry behind. So I-" Lyra began in a tone that suggested what she was saying was of great importance.

"I seem to remember it a little differently. I seem to remember someone begging me not to leave them here-" Harry interrupted before being interrupted himself.

"Hmm, your memories were obviously manipulated then…" Lyra droned on.

Harry ignored the girl as he stared across the Great Hall. He looked up and down the tables until someone locked eyes with him.

Margery, of course. She shot him a brilliant smile. Harry shot her one of his own before looking up to the staff table. Dumbledore sat there, his eyes twinkling. He looked at nobody specifically yet at the same time Harry could feel his eyes on him constantly. There wasn't anything that happened in Hogwarts without the smiling and twinkling headmaster knowing about it. Nothing outside of Hogwarts either, most likely.

Would he be like that one day? He hoped he would. The headmaster was one of the strongest and most influential members of wizarding society despite being only a half-blood. If he had had children they would've been treated as Purebloods no doubt. Had Dumbledore wanted it, all knowledge of his muggle blood could have been stricken.

How could one man do so much? He had conquered Hogwarts and then upon graduating went onto a life in the government. It was there that he truly excelled. It didn't take long until the emperor had him whispering into his ear. He had many enemies, people who completely despised him, and yet at over a hundred years of age, he still stood strong and proud.

Rumor was that even in his old age, he had never lost a duel.

Harry knew upon the first instant of seeing the man that he would do anything and everything to be like him; to surpass him.