Author's Note: Here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy!

Harry jerked away from the foul smell underneath his nose and coughed. Ugh. That was horrible, foul, and had no place being on the planet's surface. The smell reappeared under his nose again and he moved his head away. The movement was a mistake. His head started pounding. He moaned and the smell finally disappeared. "Deshi." Harry knew that voice. It was Sensei. What was Sensei doing here? Was it time to get up? Did they have a workout that morning? He forced his eyes open before slamming them shut again. It was too bright. Why was his room so bright? "Deshi." Sensei was being rather persistent this morning. Harry moved his hand up to his face to shield his eyes, ignoring the pain that it brought, and squinted at his teacher.

They were not in his room. They were in the locker room. Why were they here? Harry's body caught up with his mind then and he groaned. The pain was everywhere. Voldemort had not been kind that evening. "Cruel" would be close. Almost. It was a few steps down from what Voldemort had been doing. "Ow." Harry said in a whisper. Oh, yes. His voice was raw.

"Hope there's a good explanation coming." Sensei said as he removed the blanket covering Harry. He pulled Harry's arm down to his side and stared down at the boy. "You'll need it." Sensei warned him. "A stay in the infirmary will keep you where you are safe."

Harry's stomach sank as Sensei wrestled Harry's clothing off. Harry tried to help only once, but was forced to remain still by a somewhat fearsome glare. He knew that any other teacher would have reported him to the doctor and left him to the man's mercies, but Sensei appeared more than competent to care for Harry's injuries. Harry's brain processed what the man had said. Was he threatening Harry? With the infirmary? Ack!

Harry followed Sensei's instructions as Sensei cleaned the welts covering Harry's back, chest, arms, and legs. Harry was glad that nothing had really scarred. That would have been extremely difficult to explain in the long run. Harry tensed when Sensei applied the burning cream, as Harry called it. Sensei only grunted in reaction. Sensei was really angry, then. He usually worried if Harry was in pain. Now, it seemed that he could care less if Harry was in pain. Sensei put down his the cream and wiped his hands on a clean towel. "Sit up." Sensei told Harry.

Harry pushed himself up from the table and faced his teacher. The man held out some pajamas. Harry pulled them on and waited for the other shoe to drop. "You have been going to the man who wants you dead." Sensei said quietly. "You have left the safety of the school and risked your life." Harry had heard varieties of this speech several times in his life, but this was the first time he felt like this. He had been upset before, but he had always felt right in doing what he did. He always had a reason and it had always worked. Everything turned out for the best. "I am very disappointed."

Harry started to take a deep breath, but stopped when his injuries pulled. He felt tears prickle in his eyes. He blinked them away and tried to keep calm. That hurt, the way Sensei had said that. "I-" Harry's fists opened and closed as he looked at his teacher. Just the way the man was looking at him seemed to scream displeasure. Harry had disappointed his teacher, the man who had promised to protect him and had protected him over and over. He had disappointed his teacher. "I, uh, I-" Harry didn't know what to say. He had no excuse other than "this is something I have to do." "I'm sorry." Harry finally said. He figured apology would be the best way to go now.

"Apology not accepted." Oh. That hurt worse than the disappointed statement. "Explain to me why." Sensei demanded. Sensei's glare pierced through Harry and made him think that the infirmary would have been the better option. He could deal with the Infirmary, right?

Harry dropped his gaze to his toes and fought away the shudders from the Cruciatus. He would not show any weaknesses right now. He couldn't let Sensei down. "I do have a reason." He said to Sensei. "I won't expect you to understand. I don't understand it myself." Harry pulled his legs up and sat in a cross-legged position. He rested his arms on his knees and stared off to his left. "Voldemort has access to my dreams. You already knew that. He has decided that I'm some sort of student. His student. He's teaching me things I wouldn't learn at my school, or anywhere else that follows the law." Harry explained. "I don't know why he wants to teach me. I didn't accept it. He just demands it. And I follow those demands." Harry sighed and put his face in his hands.

"I don't know why I continue to go." Harry admitted. "I've been there quite a bit and now he's arranged for outside tutoring. From his Death Eaters." Harry shrugged carefully, mindful of one lash directly across his shoulder blade. "Tonight was a particularly bad lesson. I couldn't keep the spells straight and he was upset." Harry ran a hand through his hair and wished he had his pillow from Paul's office. He jumped when the pillow appeared in his hand. Okay, accidental wandless magic without a strong wish for anything to happen. Odd. What is going on with my magic? Harry held onto his pillow and sighed. "I know I should stop going, but I learn so much from my time there." He felt Sensei shift and he looked up. "Not bad things. How his organization works. Who reports to him and who does not. The layout of his hideout. How his mind works. Everything I've needed to know but could not find out is practically given to me now. I'm learning about him and how he works. I'm finding out the identities of the Death Eaters and learning their weaknesses. Everything I need but couldn't get before."

Harry glanced at his teacher and saw an unreadable expression on his face. It was blank. He appeared to be thinking. Harry waited. He didn't want to upset his teacher any further than he had managed. "Sun Tzu. Have you heard of him?"

"No, Sensei." Harry answered.

"He wrote a very famous book called 'The Art of War'. He said 'All warfare is based on deception'. It seems you are deceiving him?" Sensei asked. Harry wasn't sure where this was going, but he gave a cautious nod. "You wish to know your enemy?" Harry gave another nod. "You know this is dangerous?"

"Yes." Harry answered. "But it's worth it."

"How?" Sensei demanded. Harry paused. How to explain this?

"I can do this. No one else. Voldemort is allowing more and more information to come my way. I need to do this. For others. To protect them from Voldemort." Harry stopped. He wasn't helping his case. Sensei's face was completely illegible and Harry had a feeling that blank face was hiding quite a bit of emotion. Harry jumped when Sensei started speaking again.

"An old adage says 'Warriors fight for those who cannot'." Okay. What does that mean? "You are such a person." Sensei said. Oh. "Agree with your safety, I do not." Sensei told him. "Danger, yes. There is plenty." Sensei reached out a hand and rested it on Harry's shoulder. He bent down and looked Harry directly in the eye. "You do what you must?"

"Yes, Sensei. This is something I must do." Harry told him. Sensei searched Harry's face for a few minutes.

"You have my help." Sensei said shortly. "Inform me when it happens." Sensei offered a hand to Harry. Harry took it and smiled at his teacher. "If it becomes too much, I will knock you unconscious and admit you to the infirmary." Sensei warned. "There are ways of keeping you here."

"I will let you know, Sensei." Harry said quietly. He had a fair idea of what Sensei meant. Bug had told him stories of what the infirmary could be if a patient tried to harm himself while at St. Jude's. Harry didn't want that. Not at all. "I promise to be careful."

Two more weeks passed for Harry. Paul had not cornered him and questioned him about his nocturnal lessons, so Harry guessed that his secret was safe with Sensei. The man had ordered Harry to show Sensei any new injuries and often had Harry sit out on classes if Sensei thought the wounds were too bad for Harry to participate. He had given Harry a book called The Book of the Five Rings by a famous swordsman from Japan. Harry had devoured it and found that the book could be applied to his life in several ways. Not that he was ready to bring some of those ideas into play. He would have to wait until the right time.

"007?" Jack said as he entered the lounge. Harry looked up from his drawing of Gryffindor tower and smiled at Jack. "Your aunt's here, pal."

"Thanks, Jack." Harry packed up his art supplies and put them into his cubby before shouldering his bag and dashing down to the visitors' lounge. He slid in the hallway and wondered if there was a regular schedule for waxing the floors. He stopped himself with the wall and went down the hall. He waved to Bug and dodged past a nurse carrying a box. He smiled at the lounge door and opened it to see his aunt. "Hi, Aunt Petunia."

"Hello, Harry." She said with a smile of her own. "You're looking well." She commented as he came up to her. Harry had no doubts he was looking well. Sensei was badgering him into eating, sleeping, and taking vitamins everyday.

"Thank you." He answered. "Prove to me that you're my aunt. Where did you find me when I had an unexpected visitor from my old school?" He asked, ready to bring out his wand if it proved necessary.

"I found you in a tree." Petunia told him. "A little paranoid today, Harry?" She asked.

"Paranoia is my constant companion. It's saved my life." Harry shrugged. "Why are you here today?" He asked. Petunia usually only came during weekends, not during the week.

"Please sit down, Harry." Petunia said in a serious voice. Harry's face fell and he dropped into a chair. Aunt Petunia was being far too serious. "Your uncle and I have decided to separate for now." She said calmly. Harry's mind abruptly stopped and he stared at her. "It was nothing you did. It is not your fault."

Harry stared at his aunt. She and Uncle Vernon had separated? His first thought made him feel a bit guilty, for he mentally cheered. No more Vernon! Woo-hoo! "Why?" Harry asked instead of cheering.

"He wasn't the man I thought he was." Petunia said simply. We decided it would be best to take a break to figure out what we both want from this marriage, or if we want to continue our marriage." She shrugged. "It's been coming for a long time now." She told Harry. "He has found a flat and will live there until things are decided."

"I thought..." Harry had been sure Petunia would leave Privet Drive, not Vernon.

"No, Harry. I own the house. I also bought a new car. I thought we would go out for lunch, if you would like that." Petunia smiled at Harry and Harry couldn't help but smile back.

"Does Paul know?" He asked. Getting out of St. Jude's for an hour or two would be nice.

"Yes, he knows." Petunia told him. "Is that a 'yes'?" She asked as she stood up.

"That would be nice, Aunt Petunia." Harry replied. "Let's go. I'm starved."

"Ah. You're always starving. You know that, right?" She asked as she led the way outside.

"Yes. It's normal though. Paul wants me to be normal." Harry said to her. As normal as I can be with a psycho wizard after my head…no, wait. That's changed. Psycho wizard who wants me to join him. Yeah, that's completely normal.

Harry sat back from the table and sighed. Lunch had been a great idea. He snickered at Aunt Petunia's look. "Hungry?" She asked.

"Not anymore." Harry answered truthfully. "Thank you for lunch, Aunt Petunia."

"Not a problem." She answered. "Did you save any room for pudding?"

"No." Harry said with a shake of his head. "Thank you. I can wait while you get yours." He told her.

"Not today, I think." She told him. "Ophelia made cheesecake yesterday. I had two pieces." She confided.

"Oh. You're so bad." Harry smirked at her.

"Eh. It was celebration." She answered. "Harry, I was wondering what plans you had for Christmas?" Harry stopped toying with his straw and looked up at her. He knew Christmas was only three weeks away.

"None yet." He answered honestly. "I spent last Christmas with Sirius and all the other ones before that at school." He told her.

"Would you consider coming home for Christmas this year?" She asked. Harry blinked at her in confusion. "Vernon won't be there. Just the three of us. You, me, and Dudley." Christmas at Privet Drive? Not having Uncle Vernon around would be nice. He wouldn't have to worry about his uncle doing anything to embarrass him. Could he do it? Would he want to? Past experience told him 'no'. Christmas had never been a thing Harry could find any joy in as a child. He hated the holidays when he was a child. He had preferred being in school, away from his family and their apparent enmity for his presence. "You don't have to decide now." She told him. "Let me know in a few days."

"Okay." Harry said. He couldn't go back there for Christmas, could he? Would it be different with Vernon out of the house? "I'll think about it." He promised. Paul would help him think this through.

"Headmaster Dumbledore." Fudge said as he stood to welcome his mentor during his first years in office. "What can I do for you today?" He asked as he ushered the elder into a chair. A tea service appeared on the table between them as Fudge took his own seat.

"Minister Fudge. You're looking well." Dumbledore said as he accepted a tea cup, flavored exactly the way he liked it.

"Yes. I've had young Mr. Weasley looking after me. He's become invaluable to me." Fudge admitted. "He makes sure I eat and pushes me out of the office if I've been here more than twelve hours a day." Fudge looked at Dumbledore in a way that invited explanation. "Why are you here, Headmaster? I do not receive visits from you without some reason behind it." He told Dumbledore with a jovial smile.

"I have some information about the Dark Lord. Information that I feel you need to know." Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly twinkle to his eye.

"Information?" Fudge spluttered. "What kind of information?" He asked hurriedly. "What do I need to know?"

"My source has uncovered something the Dark Lord has yet to reveal to the public." Dumbledore saw the panic in Fudge's eyes. This was playing out exactly as he wished.

"What is it?" The minister practically gibbered.

Dumbledore soothed the man with a gesture and smiled. "It's not too worrisome. Not yet, at least." He admitted. "It is unsettling." He said. "It seems that Voldemort," he ignored the Minister's flinch, "has found himself a student." Dumbledore said calmly. He watched as the man across from him paled. Perfect. "This student of his speaks Parseltongue and is receiving tutoring from the Death Eaters themselves."

"A student?" Fudge asked. "Is it a child?" He asked.

"A boy, yes. My source puts him at fifteen or sixteen years of age." He told Fudge. "We cannot dismiss the idea that this boy is not doing this by choice." Dumbledore warned him.

"You said he speaks Parseltongue?" Fudge latched onto the information and stared at Dumbledore. "The only known Parseltongues are Voldemort and Harry Potter. No one else."

"My contact says that the student is not Harry Potter." Dumbledore said confidently. "This boy, however, has not spoken any English around my source, so we do not know if he even speaks English. The source feels that the boy is foreign. He has promised to find out as much as possible, but it is a good idea now to be cautious." Dumbledore said. "We don't know what this student is capable of or what he is willing to do. It makes me afraid for those wizards who are outside the community."

"You're thinking of the Potter boy, aren't you, Dumbledore?" Fudge asked the Headmaster. "I can't tell you where he is, as I don't know. He is well-protected though. His aunt has sent several Aurors running for their lives and Potter has bodyguards with him. I doubt he is able to shift in his sleep without someone knowing about it." The two men fell deep into a conversation about the Boy Who Lived, oblivious to the ear just behind the door.

Author's Note: Okay, so it was short. The next one will be longer. Promise. Thanks for reading!