Chapter Seven: Whispers in the Dark
Ron stands up for Hermione, Draco must confront his new fears, and Harry begins to hear voices.
Harry wasn't sure if it was Fallen's attack on Lockhart or if it was whatever meeting he'd had with Dumbledore, but he was thankful regardless.
The stress of that first day, where Lockhart was appearing practically everywhere he was, and the thought that he might do so for the rest of the year, had nearly driven him to a continuous state of panic that night.
The rest of the week, however, was blessedly silent on the Lockhart front, and slowly, Harry began to relax into his school routine again.
Yoko had remarked towards the end of the week, that he was surprised at the level of tact that the Gryffindors had, as they hadn't once asked about Tarana's absence.
Fallen had snorted and told him that it wasn't tact, it was fear.
Draco had spoken to the dorm and insisted that they not mention it in Harry's vicinity until the boy himself started saying her name again.
The week of peace and quiet, or as much as one could have given they were at a magical school, was broken on Sunday, when one of the school owls delivered a letter to Harry in the common room, asking him and Yoko to meet with Dumbledore that night after dinner.
'Maybe it's because we were never one of his favored Houses, but does this seem a little suspect to you, General?' Brandon asked as Fallen and Draco walked with Harry and Yoko to the Headmaster's office on the third floor.
Fallen hummed. 'You'll need to be a little more specific.'
'Dumbledore's interest in Harry,' Brandon sneered. He and Fallen shared a headspace, there was no doubt that Fallen knew exactly what he was referring to. 'It just seems awfully unusual for the Headmaster of a school this size to show such interest in one that suffered a loss.'
'I'm trying to keep an open mind and not let Her suspicions lead my thinking,' Fallen admitted. 'For the moment, I'm running under the primary assumption that there was a level of attachment between Dumbledore and the Potters, which may extend to his care for their son. Dumbledore and Tarana also served together in the last war, so there is an additional connection there, connections that Dumbledore wouldn't have with another student at Hogwarts.'
'You're not dismissing the concerns of the Queen, however.'
'No,' Fallen agreed sharply. 'Despite his power and access to the school wards, Dumbledore didn't notice that one of his professors had been possessed, even in part as Quirrell was, in the entire nine months Voldemort was on the grounds. I'm sure we can put part of the blame on Dark's mental abilities and Voldemort's own skill in such, but surely, considering the years Quirrell had taught here, there was some hint that not all was well with him. Something that someone who had as much contact with him as the Headmaster did, could have picked up on.'
'And then there was Christmas.'
Fallen growled at the reminder. 'Yes. There was Christmas as well. And I've tentatively been putting Dumbledore's rather rash attempt to question Harry the night they arrived at the school down to needing to know the threat level that might come to Hogwarts because I did the same thing when I arrived at the Dursleys.'
'You think this is another attempt to get that information?'
'I'm sure of it,' Fallen told him, glancing at the fox ahead of them. 'And so is Yoko. The only thing we're curious about is why he specifically asked for Yoko. He knows that either one of us would have come up here regardless, but he asked for Yoko.'
'Which is why you're both going.'
'And because Draco insisted on accompanying Harry.'
'You think it's another one of those times where he sees something the rest of us don't?'
Fallen's lip curled. 'I think I may have given him too much credit, actually.'
'Oh?'
'Draco is a child. An observant one when it comes to his friend, certainly, but still a child. He's never faced the level of loss that he has with Her Highness, and I think he shoved it away to help Harry, and now his own emotions are beginning to bleed through as Harry begins to stabilize with the routine he's found at Hogwarts.'
'He's hurting.'
'Of that, there's no doubt,' Fallen agreed. 'However, he's struggling to find things Harry will need so he can continue to avoid that hurt, only for Harry to be making a remarkable, though no less painful, recovery.'
'Not unlike you, then, eh General?'
Fallen silently acknowledged his other half but didn't verbally reply and the conversation lapsed.
XX
Dumbledore, it turned out, did wish to ask how Harry was holding up and offered him, more than once, a listening ear that understood the loss of someone so close to them.
Fallen was reminded of the rumors of the time, that the Dumbledore siblings had, at one point, been close with the late Gellert Grindelwald and could find little lie in the understanding he supposedly had with the child.
Harry, wary after the repeated warnings from his guardian that Dumbledore was a manipulative man and not to be trusted, hedged the Headmaster and simply told him that he'd keep it in mind.
When Harry promptly shut down any attempts on Dumbledore's part to convince him otherwise, Dumbledore let him leave.
Draco and Harry all but bolted out the door.
Fallen paused as he followed them.
"Let me remind you, Headmaster, that you should choose your words and actions carefully. I don't feel the need my Queen did to play political games, though I am perfectly capable of it if the need arises."
Yoko grinned ferally. "And of course, you'll never see me coming if I decide you're a threat."
Dumbledore smiled mirthlessly. "I would expect nothing less."
Fallen nodded and disappeared down the stairs.
XX
Yoko glanced at the door. "I admit to being curious, what did you need from me? Surely it wasn't so I could threaten your life, Headmaster."
Dumbledore wiped all traces of merriment from his face, not that there were many, and McGonagall walked into the office, throwing the Headmaster a questioning look, likely having met Fallen on the way up.
"We wished to make it known that, despite the loss of the Valerian Queen, we were still very much interested in keeping to our agreement regarding your charge, Lord Yoko," Dumbledore said.
Yoko tilted his head, thinking, before remembering the agreement between Tarana and Dumbledore.
A yearly check-in on Blaise's home situation and any changes that could be made by the school to remove Blaise from the care of his stepfather.
"He seemed to be in a better condition than last year," McGonagall told him, crossing her arms.
"Blaise has spent the last month at the Weasleys with Harry," Yoko admitted. "Though I'm not happy with their knowledge, I don't believe either Arthur or Molly stupid enough to have missed the signs while they were on the property."
McGonagall's brow furrowed. "They weren't there to retrieve him?"
"Yes and no," Yoko said, curling his tail around his paws. "The Weasleys had been planning to remove Harry from the care of the Dursleys as soon as the Ministry was aware of the death of the Queen. Unfamiliar with the Bond, they wanted a Bonded pair at the Burrow to help Harry through the abrupt severing of his own," Yoko took a moment to regain his composure. Knowing this was what the Weasleys had done and laying it out so matter-of-factly was not the same as quietly informing Fallen of the same.
"Considering the options, Arthur Weasley chose Blaise and myself, it was not because the Weasleys were aware of Blaise's situation, though I don't doubt that he would certainly have been retrieved if they had known of it."
Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at one another.
"Would the Weasleys keep Blaise?"
"Would they?" Yoko repeated. "Certainly. I wouldn't ask them to."
McGonagall's jaw unhinged slightly before she got herself under control and clenched it. "That is-"
"Don't you dare insult me, Minerva McGonagall," Yoko warned her with deceptive evenness. "Surely you are aware of the debts currently being paid by the Weasley family via their connection to the Prewitts. Their financial situation is such that they can barely make ends meet with the children they have. It would be irresponsible of me to ask them to take in Blaise when neither he nor I could aid them monetarily."
McGonagall's jaw clenched.
Though the Zabinis were a fairly wealthy family, and their reputation, while not pristine with someone like the Black Widow a prominent member of it, was one of the cleaner ones among the Gray Houses, the majority of Blaise's vast fortune was in the care of his step-father.
"So, our situation remains unchanged," Dumbledore said grimly.
Yoko tilted his head, acknowledging the stalemate they currently suffered.
"Blaise has found a family that could care and teach him things that most purebloods don't abide anymore, the clear and obvious love in public and the understanding that you are not a burden, but yes, it is far more likely that he will end up back at the Mansion come year's end."
XX
As the weeks passed, Harry found himself relaxing.
Lockhart was no longer a bother, having been handled by Fallen, Dumbledore, or both, and he was able to travel the school without worrying about being late for class or accosted by the fair-haired professor.
A little harder, but a little less irritating, was the First Year, Colin Creevey.
For a muggle-born, the boy had the worst case of hero worship Harry had seen since his first week at Hogwarts the year before.
He was also one of the harder ones to ignore, being in Gryffindor.
Draco, either out of his own frustration of being unable to complete a single essay without Creevey's inane questions, or recognizing Harry's rising unease with the attention, eventually put a stop to it.
"Do you mind?" he asked, giving the First Year a rather dire-looking look, "we're trying to get work done if that wasn't obvious. Perhaps your kind doesn't feel the need to complete your work on time, but we're rather fond of it. Go find something more useful to do with your time, idiot."
Creevey, unaware of Draco's prejudices against muggle-borns - low in comparison to his father and cousin perhaps, but there, all the same - the insult went over his head, but he still flushed at the rather blunt reprimand and the insult he did understand.
"S-sorry." He squeaked, clenching a hand around his quill.
Draco sneered at him, before dropping his attention back to his essay.
Harry hadn't looked up since Draco had intervened.
Yoko shook his head. "Though he is rather crude about it, child, you really should focus on getting some of your work done and leave the boys to their own."
Fallen snorted as the child scampered away. "Weakling." He muttered affectionately.
Yoko darted him a narrow-eyed glare. "Kindness breeds sympathy, General," the fox told him sharply. "One never knows when a collaborator could be required."
Fallen gave him a sharp grin but didn't bother to continue the argument they'd been having for centuries.
Yoko wasn't deterred, turning his nose up. "Besides, not everyone can be as cold-hearted and blunt as you, Fallen."
The boys, spread out at their table, snickered, but didn't dare look up from their work and risk coming under either Valerian's wrath.
XX
Regardless of what bed he'd been lying in, Harry had nightmares.
He had them for the first few weeks at the Dursleys, but the talks with Her had helped to ease them into nothing over the summer, or at least close to it.
They had returned with a vengeance Since and he'd found it difficult to get a full night sleep, different scenarios playing out in his dreams, be it the many situations they'd been in the year before, when Dark and Arcana were actively stalking the school, waiting for a clear shot to get at the Philosopher's Stone; the confrontation with Quirrell, only this time he was alone, no sign of the Assassin and he dreamed that he died with the man's smoking hands around his throat night after night, with no reassurance from the Queen to remind him that she would always have come for him(and who, now, was going to do that?); there were even sporadic nights where he remembered hearing his mother screaming and begging, unseen; and of course, That Night at the Dursleys.
After that first night at Hogwarts, Harry had tried, really, to sleep in the dorms with the rest of the Second Year Gryffindors, but considering the light sleepers, of which Draco and Blaise were among, he often stopped his tossing and turning after a minute or two and returned to the common room, where Fallen was often lying stretched out in front of the fire that Harry actively avoided looking at.
The wolf watched him but never forced him to return to the dorm or even to talk about the nightmare that had driven him down from bed in the first place and Harry never offered. The brunette did wonder, sometimes, if Fallen didn't like the company even though they didn't really speak to one another, because the year before he had shared the common room with Her.
XX
Only a couple of weeks into the new school year, on one of the few nights that Harry made it through the entire night in the dorm, he was shaken awake.
Considering who he was - had been - bonded to the year before, being woken like this wasn't normal, and Harry, unfamiliar with physical contact, flailed away from the hand and, unfortunately, out of bed entirely, the thump of him hitting the ground bringing Blaise and Draco to full consciousness immediately.
"What the bloody hell, Wood?!" Draco snapped, Blaise flopping back into his pillow, scrubbing his face with his palms.
Oliver Wood, Sixth Year Gryffindor and Captain of their House Quidditch team, sheepishly raised his hands as Harry dragged himself, scowling, to his feet and reached for the blurry black frames of his glasses.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,"
Harry looked out the window, where the mist only enhanced the pink and gold of the dawn sky. "Oliver, what time is it? It's the crack of dawn!"
Oliver smiled brightly. "Exactly," he said, "part of our new training program. None of the other teams are training this early in the year, so we'll be the first off the mark this year!" he looked over at Draco, who had, like Blaise, buried his face in his pillow, either to try and go back to sleep or to smother himself with it. "And if you're still interested in trying out, you should be getting up too, Malfoy."
"Tryouts aren't for weeks, Wood," Draco said, turning his head only enough that his voice wasn't muffled by the pillow.
"Special circumstances," Oliver said dismissively. "I've got McGonagall's permission and everything. Get up and grab your brooms, meet you on the field in fifteen minutes."
Draco growled impressively. "Was he, or was he not, in the common room with more than half the team last night? Couldn't he have mentioned this then? I would've gone to bed earlier."
Blaise and Harry both snorted.
Draco had been up with Ron until almost eleven, playing chess.
He would not have gone to bed earlier if that was the alternative.
XX
There was no way that Fallen didn't know about the Quidditch practice, either because Yoko had told him, or because a chunk of the team had likely already passed through the common room on the way to the changing room and pitch for the 'crack of dawn practice'.
Having known that Harry and Draco, if no one else, were awake, Draco was far from pleased to step into the common room and find Colin Creevey rocking on his feet in the middle of it, a photo clenched to his chest. He was wearing his pajamas and robe, but no slippers, so he had likely sprinted down the stairs in a hurry.
"Harry!" he cried. "I thought I heard someone say your name on the stairs!"
Harry flinched and Draco stepped down a step, putting himself between the other two Gryffindors.
"Can we help you?" he sneered. "We're on our way out and really don't have the time or patience for you this morning."
Fallen turned his head slightly and Draco rolled his eyes.
"I just…" Creevey blushed and looked at Harry, avoiding Draco's eyes entirely. "I had a bunch of pictures and I processed them in the potion like my friend said, but…I can't really keep this one…."
He offered the photo to Harry, who pointedly stepped around Draco to take it.
Uncomfortable though he was with Creevey's attention, he wasn't going to stay hidden behind Draco forever.
Draco scowled and shot a sharp glare in his guardian's direction.
Fallen was neither offended nor amused, and met his charge's gaze evenly before turning his attention to Harry as he grinned slightly.
Draco, as attuned to his best friend's moods as ever, looked at the photo over his shoulder and felt a smile tug at his lips.
It was from the stairs in front of the castle, the one that Lockhart had forced Harry into.
Picture-Lockhart was pressed up against the white border, waving his hands helplessly as Picture-Fallen growled soundlessly at him. Picture-Harry was half-hidden by the other white border, with only his head sticking out as he watched the altercation before him.
"Fallen's a little…mean in this one," Creevey explained. "I can't send it home to show my dad. Do you want it?"
Harry pressed his lips together.
The picture was amusing, but….
Draco tugged it from his fingers. "I do," he said, flicking it twice and eyeing the First Year. "Might do someone good to have a reminder to stop being an idiot."
Creevey sank in on himself under his gaze.
"Lockhart's a professor, Draco," Fallen drawled with all the care he gave the twin's pranks-that is to say: none.
Draco snorted, taking the rebuke for what it wasn't. "Not a very good one," he reminded them, stepping around Creevey to continue their way to the pitch.
"Where are you going so early?" Creevey asked.
Draco glanced at him but didn't appear to wish to answer, pushing the portrait open.
"We have Quidditch practice," Harry answered, following the blond across the room and shaking his head at his friend's rudeness.
Creevey lit up. "I've never seen a game before. Can I come and watch?!"
Draco snorted.
"I don't think you're dressed for that, Colin," Harry said, amused.
Creevey darted up the stairs. "I'll only be a minute!"
Harry glanced at Draco, slipped out of the portrait, and took off running.
Draco held the portrait only long enough for Fallen to leap through it before closing it with a laugh.
His longer legs allowed him to catch up with Harry quickly.
"Ingenious," he praised his friend.
Harry was too breathless to answer, but he grinned proudly and turned sharply to dart down the stairs.
XX
To the irritation of many, the practice didn't immediately start once everyone was in the changing room and in their quidditch attire.
Of the group, only Oliver and Draco looked even remotely awake.
The twins, the Gryffindor beaters, were puffy-eyed with sleep and tousle-haired, truly not caring what they looked like so early in the morning; the three chasers, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson were yawning, with the latter two leaning against one another to stay upright and Alicia using the wall behind her to do the same.
Despite the lack of participation from his team, Oliver spent almost an hour and a half going over new game plans he'd come up with over the summer, eager to win the Quidditch Cup this year, having lost the year before because they'd been down a seeker.
Harry, said seeker, looked down guiltily.
He'd only been in the hospital wing for a few days after the confrontation with Quirrell the year before, but it was enough that he'd missed the last game of the season and Gryffindor had needed to forfeit without a replacement.
"It wasn't your fault," Draco whispered, "that Quirrell was a weak-minded idiot and a dirty thief."
By the time Oliver was done droning, breakfast was beginning up at the castle and Harry was wistfully thinking of it.
Draco, the jackass, was humming thoughtfully through parts of Oliver's explanations and looking so much more awake than he had when he'd obviously been mentally cursing the captain when he'd appeared in their dorm.
"Any questions?"
"I've got a question, Oliver," George said, jerking away from Alicia's shoulder, as though it would hide the fact that he'd been sleeping on it. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"
Oliver glowered.
"Any real questions?"
"Yeah," Katie said, pushing herself forward. "What's Malfoy doing here? Last I checked he wasn't a member of the team and tryouts are weeks away."
Alicia shifted guiltily. "My parents asked me to cut back on Quidditch this year," she said. "Because some of my grades were bad. I'm allowed to play if you need a substitute, but as a full-time chaser…."
"And I remembered Malfoy helping Harry last year and talked to McGonagall. He'll still have to try out, but he's pretty much in already. We just need him to be familiar with our plays."
Draco snorted. "Your plays haven't changed that much, Oliver."
Oliver looked offended.
"In your defense, they didn't need to. You're right, you've got most of the best players at Hogwarts, though Diggory is probably the closest to Harry by way of skill, and with Bole and Derrick having graduated last year, who knows who Slytherin's replaced them with, but if they stick to their usual form they'll be more brutal than you two, no offense," Fred and George shrugged, staring at the blond. "But the fact remains that even these new plays aren't different, they just change the speed and form of what you already do."
The girls blinked at the Second Year and Harry covered his snickering with one hand.
"And of course, there's the real reason you went and talked to McGonagall," Draco said, cracking his neck and rolling his broom out from beneath the bench with his foot "The Nimbus Two-Thousand and One my father bought me and my cousin."
"Watch out, Oliver," Fred snickered.
"Before you know it, he'll be after your title," George added, winking at Draco.
Oliver shrugged. "I'm not going to deny that I'm hoping it will give us an edge this year," he admitted. "I take it you're planning to play?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Do you think I would have sat here for the last two hours if I didn't plan to use those plays you've made? Of course, I'm in. Can we get started yet? Breakfast started half an hour ago."
XX
Because of their unfamiliar magic and the increased chances of cheating that came with the Bond between the Valerians and their charges, the Valerians weren't necessarily allowed in the changing rooms and weren't supposed to have contact with their charges before the matches.
The rule wasn't really meant for practices, but Fallen was lying several feet away, enjoying his chance to sleep the morning away, when the doors to the changing room opened and the team stepped out.
On the path leading down from the school, the rest of their friends were trekking, Ron had a napkin full of toast in one hand and stared at the team as it stepped out.
"Done already?"
Fallen snorted. "Haven't even started." He told them, swaying to his paws and shaking out the detritus that came with fall in Europe.
Oliver smiled weakly at the dour glare the 'wolf gave him but Fallen deemed him unimportant and turned his attention to Yoko as the fox rubbed himself against the red wolf in greeting.
Harry abruptly looked away from the private greeting between the two Valerians, who were far more demonstrative this year than they had been the year before, likely because there was no longer a 'third wheel'.
In looking away from that, however, he gets an eyeful of Ron shoving half a piece of toast in his mouth and he can feel the drool pooling in his mouth and his stomach rumbled angrily at him.
He flushed as Fallen lifted his head to look at him, but the direwolf didn't say anything as Harry jogged to catch up to the rest of the team.
XX
The first time that Fallen had seen Harry and Draco truly fly together, they were hunting a key during one of the Challenges at the end of their last school year. Even before that, however, he and Tarana had commented, more than once, on the fact that if the two were constantly unconsciously reacting to one another on the ground they practically read one another's minds in the air.
He was reminded, painfully, of that conversation again as he watched the two Second Years twisting and diving around the supposedly more experienced Weasley twins as though they could sense where the other was at all times and anticipate one another's actions before either so much as twitched to make the move.
"And they're doing this in play," Yoko murmured beside him.
Fallen nodded. "They'd be a terror on any battlefield if they were trained right."
Yoko snorted and side-eyed him. "They'll be a terror no matter what they decide to do if they do it together. They move like them."
Fallen's lip twitched.
Now that it was pointed out to him, he could see it.
Harry and Draco were so in tune with one another they were exactly like the Powers of the Crown, and it would certainly make them a force to be reckoned with in the future.
XX
As soon as he was in the air, everything else disappeared.
There was no grief.
No pain.
Just the pleasure of the air whipping through his hair and the freedom that came with being on his broom.
He didn't hear Colin Creevey as he called out to Harry as he, Draco, and the twins all but thundered past the Gryffindor stands.
He was drawn up short, however, when the rest of the team noticed the approaching Slytherin team.
With great reluctance, Harry followed the others to the ground.
He joins the others as Marcus Flint, the largely built Slytherin Captain, was telling Oliver that they'd gotten permission to use the Pitch despite Oliver having booked it for Gryffindor.
"-note here from Professor Snape."
Oliver took the rolled-up parchment with a narrow-eyed glare and curled a lip as he read it. "'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new player.'" He looked up accusingly at the other Captain. "You've got a new team member already?"
Flint's lip curled up in a nasty grin. "And you've got a new Chaser." He replied.
Several eyes flicked to Draco, who was leaning on his Nimbus with a bored expression on his face.
"Red doesn't suit you, Malfoy," the Captain said nastily, before returning his attention to Oliver.
Draco, however, wasn't willing to take that comment easily. "It doesn't seem to bother my father all that much," he said, weaving slightly to draw attention to the broom he leaned on.
"Funny you should mention that, cousin," came a distressingly familiar voice.
Katelyn pushed her way through the larger boys on the team, fingers tight on her broomstick, a mirror to the one in Draco's hand. She looked, to Harry, a little ill-at-ease, and definitely out of place.
The Slytherin team the year before hadn't had a single girl on the team, and it was something, according to George, that had been 'tradition' for the Slytherins for years, they were the only team in school to not have a single girl on the team, until now.
Draco, apparently thinking the same thing, took a second to recover from the sight of his female cousin in Slytherin-green Quidditch robes. "You're the new player?"
"There's hasn't been a girl on the Slytherin team in years!" Fred sputtered.
Katelyn smiled, cold and brilliant. "Talent isn't limited to gender, Weasley."
Draco took another look at the Slytherin team.
"You all have Two-Thousand and Ones?" Oliver asked suspiciously, apparently having made the same conclusion.
Katelyn shrugged. "My father was concerned about the team's well-being. Some of those older brooms are just not suited for use anymore."
Draco smirked. "So, when it became clear that they weren't even going to let you try out, you owled Uncle Nathaniel and bought your way onto the team."
Katelyn sneered at him. "It doesn't look like you were any better, cousin. You're already wearing red robes and I know Gryffindor hasn't had their tryouts yet either."
"There were extenuating circumstances, but I will be trying out when the team holds them," Draco countered easily. "The difference is that I don't need to buy my way onto the team when I am perfectly capable of getting onto the team on pure talent even when I do try out. You needed to buy your way onto an all-boys team. Regardless of the level of talent you have, Katelyn, that doesn't make you special."
Katelyn grit her teeth.
Draco shrugged, ignoring the strike he knows he's made. "This game isn't all about the speed of the broom, but the talent of the one who rides it. We'll see who's the real flyer of the family come our upcoming game."
Harry tilted his head. "The only position you're suited for is seeker," he said, causing Katelyn to throw him a dark glare. He smiled mirthlessly. "See you in the air, Malfoy." He challenged.
He deliberately turned his back on the Slytherins, dismissing her as unimportant, as the rest of their friends run up to see what the problem was, Fallen and Yoko flanking the Gryffindor team, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
"What's happening?" Ron asked, eyeing Katelyn in her Quidditch robes before looking at Draco. "Seriously?"
Draco shrugged. "Slytherin seeker."
Ron turned back to the Slytherin team and gapped at the seven identical brooms the team was holding.
"Good, aren't they?" Katelyn sneered. "Perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. I don't see Uncle Lucius shelling out to replace Cleansweeps."
Harry opened his mouth to reply that Lucius Malfoy wasn't the only one with money, but Hermione beat him to it.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in, Katelyn. They got in on pure talent."
The blow had already been struck once, coming from Draco mere minutes earlier, so it couldn't have been her words that caused Katelyn's face to twist into something ugly and dark.
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," she spat hatefully.
There was an immediate reaction from the Gryffindors.
Fred and George lunged forward, stopped by two of the Slytherin Chasers, but they were practically a force of nature, and it was quickly apparent that the two Slytherins, despite being bigger, weren't going to be enough to contain them.
Flint pulled Katelyn behind the rest of the team before wading into the fray, easily the largest of the Slytherins.
Ron, without thought to the fact that one: Katelyn was a girl, or two: that his wand was in no condition to be performing the spell he was thinking of, drew his wand and shoved it in Katelyn's face.
Fallen and Yoko moved to intervene just as the spell backfired with a loud bang, which echoed around the enclosed stadium.
"Idiot!" Yoko barked, darting to the boy's side as he slid several inches along the grass, a dazed and, frankly rather green expression on his face. "What the hell were you thinking, Weasley? You can barely do simple spell work with that wand!"
Fallen's howl was loud and ruthless in its rage and both teams staggered away from one another, hands covering their ears.
"Both teams best get off this pitch before I snap every broom and none of you practice today." The General growled, lowering his head between his shoulders in a show of aggression. "Brawling like common thugs. I had thought better of the Slytherin House."
Behind him, Ron rolled quickly to his side and vomited up several slugs.
"Take him to Hagrid's," Yoko said quietly to Neville and Blaise on either side of Ron as he continued to throw up slugs. "It's closer and this is nothing the Slytherins need to see."
Blaise nodded and, though he had a queasy look on his face, drew one of Ron's arms over his shoulder while Neville did the same.
Hermione hovered anxiously as the three boys staggered to their feet and, unevenly with Ron nearly a head taller than both boys, staggered away from the pitch and toward Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry watched them go, before grabbing Draco by the upper arm and dragging him towards the changing rooms.
"What was that word?" he asked Draco as they rushed through taking their gear off to join the others at Hagrid's. "The one your cousin used?"
Draco glanced at the door and shook his head.
He waited until they were walking quickly away from the pitch before he answered Harry's question.
"'Mudblood' is an old-world term for those with dirty blood…muggle blood." He said.
Fallen paced along beside the boys. "Draco has only ever used it once. It was the first, and only, time that Severus ever hit him."
Draco grimaced. "Yeah. It was the most terrified I've ever been, staring up at Severus with that look on his face and hand ready to go again. I'll never be using it again."
XX
They were almost to the cabin when Blaise all but threw himself, Ron, and an unfortunate Neville, behind a bush.
"Blaise!" Hermione hissed as the move caused Ron to burp up another couple of slugs.
"Shh." Neville hissed back, having spotted the reason for Blaise's quick thinking through the branches.
Stepping down onto Hagrid's front steps, was Gilderoy Lockhart.
"-matter if you know what you're doing!" the man was calling loudly to Hagrid, who had to be standing near the door somewhere, out of sight. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one! I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!"
Blaise held his breath as Lockhart strode away toward the castle.
'Good call, sprite,' Yoko said beside him. 'Who knows what the idiot would have done in trying to help him.'
"I'm just thankful that Harry wasn't here," Blaise replied, shifting Ron's arm to a better grip as they made it the last few feet to Hagrid's door. "Lockhart almost seems to have a sixth sense when he's around. This probably would never have worked."
Yoko rolled his eyes but couldn't dispute it.
XX
In the few minutes that it took Blaise, Neville, and Hermione to get Ron to Hagrid's front door, the unencumbered Draco, Harry, and Fallen had pretty much caught up with them.
Hagrid had a sour expression on his face when he opened the door, but it evaporated quickly when he caught sight of Blaise and Neville, only to fade into confused concern when he caught sight of Ron between the two, frowning when the redhead promptly brought a thick, slimy slug up on his boot.
Shaking his head quickly, he ushered them into the cabin and handed Ron a large, copper basin.
"Better out than in," he told the pre-teen cheerfully.
"Can we make him stop?" Neville asked, wringing his hands together and cringing when Ron bent almost in half over the basin and wretched.
"I don't think so," Hermione admitted anxiously. "Just wait for it to stop."
"That's a difficult curse at the best of times," Draco added. "Who knows how long the side effects will last with his wand broken. You're an idiot for even trying that curse, Ron, with your wand in the condition it's in." Draco said.
Ron lifted his head to scowl at him, but before he could say anything, he was retching up another batch of slugs, so he flew two fingers in Draco's direction.
Harry coughed to hide his snicker because while Draco obviously knew, due to the context, that Ron had insulted him, he didn't know what the muggle expression meant. He could only assume that Fred and/or George had taught their brother the rather crude gesture.
Hagrid, eager for their company, was bustling around and making tea.
His giant boarhound, Fang, went from eagerly investigating the basin on Ron's lap, to sniffing more eagerly around Yoko.
The fox was receptive to the greeting but didn't give the dog the attention he usually did when he and Blaise came to visit, and he quickly lost interest.
"Who was he tryin' ter curse?" Hagrid asked, bringing a tray of tea and cakes to the table.
In starts and stops, because everyone had their own aspect of the story they wanted to tell and there was more than one instance where they were talking over one another, the story came out, of the Slytherins' interruption of the Gryffindor practice, the verbal sparring match between the two Malfoy cousins, the arrival of the others, and Katelyn's subsequent insult to Hermione.
"She didn'," Hagrid growled, looking Draco as though it was his fault that his cousin had a foul mouth.
Draco scowled.
"She did," Hermione said, shrugging. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course-"
"It is really rude, Hermione," Blaise said, leaning an elbow on the table and discretely poking at one of Hagrid's infamous rock cakes with a spoon. Its consistency, like its name, hadn't changed and he put the spoon back on his saucer instead of trying the food. "One of the worst things someone can call a muggle-born."
"It essentially calls your blood dirty because of the muggle taint," Draco added.
"The darker affiliated houses use it more often, but it's not really exclusive to them," Neville admitted, flushing slightly.
"It's a rather foolish mentality," Yoko added, "because all appearances to the contrary, there are very, very few pureblood families. With the loss of many of the Noble Houses, marriage prospects have become very thin. To keep their lines pure, more and more families are turning to cousins for marriage contracts."
"Lucius and Narcissa are distant cousins through a previous marriage, but it was distant enough that the blood has been diluted by time. The same can't be said of, say, the Goyle and Crabbe families, who are generally only once or twice removed from those they married." Fallen said.
Hermione was red-faced, either in anger or humiliation. "That explains a lot about their intelligence," she said weakly.
"It doesn't help that they're naturally idiots," Fred said, startling the group because none of them had seen he and George push into the cabin to hover and bother their brother.
Harry glanced at Draco and nudged his quiet friend gently.
"Alright?" he asked.
Draco chewed on his lower lip but shook his head and decided he wasn't ready to talk about it yet.
XX
Draco wasn't totally paying attention when Harry made up some excuse or another that dragged the two of them out of Hagrid's.
He was too busy talking to Fallen, even as he followed Harry back up to the castle, thankful that the brunette was as familiar with the method of communication and simply stepped faster so he didn't have to see it.
Draco pressed his lips together tightly as he told Fallen of the traditional agreement between the Malfoy family and the Crabbe and Goyle lines.
He had been reminded of it when Fallen had mentioned the marriage practices of the two families.
It was a common misconception that the Crabbe and Goyle lines were unaware of the damage they were doing to their bloodline, blind to the reason that it was harder and harder for each generation to even appear semi-intelligent.
The agreement between Draco's family and that of his two friends was that the Malfoys helped them to keep their grades at least of passing status, to keep the true depth of the damage from being even remotely public knowledge.
It was practically an Unbreakable Vow.
Like their lack of intelligence, the Crabbe and Goyle families, particularly when they managed sons, were 'gifted' with thick physiques and, occasionally, violent tendencies. These talents made them perfect bodyguards for the less physically imposing, but enemy-making, Malfoys.
According to both tradition and agreement, Vincent and Gregory were supposed to be protecting Draco from any enemies he may or may not make at Hogwarts, while Draco was supposed to be helping them with their studies.
'While I'm glad you're taking this responsibility seriously, you being in Gryffindor does make this agreement incredibly difficult to keep to,' Fallen pointed out. 'Because you're not in Slytherin, you don't have the same classes that they do, a problem, particularly next year, when you begin to take electives.'
"I know that," Draco admitted. "But this agreement is generations old. I'm surprised Father hasn't mentioned the fact that I didn't hold our end of it last year. It's one of my responsibilities. I heard that they barely made passing marks last year."
'I believe, given everything else you got yourself into last year, that agreement wasn't at the top of your father's list of concerns,' Fallen told him. 'I likewise believe that the families were a little less inclined to associate with you last year, given your House.'
Draco scowled to hide the remembered hurt.
Though he had quickly made acquaintances in Gryffindor, he had learned from how quickly his childhood 'friends' had abandoned him and hadn't extended the curtesy to more than Blaise and Harry, of whose loyalty he could almost be entirely sure of because of the relationship between Fallen and Yoko, and the fact that Tarana had reached out to Fallen in the first place.
Even Ron, for all their comrade now, was still less friend and more close acquaintance, at least on Draco's part.
'Still,' Fallen continued, brushing aside the second-hand pain and anger. 'Unless you plan to invite the two to start studying with you and Hermione….'
"No," Draco said firmly. "She'd somehow make things worse; I just know it."
Personally, Fallen had his doubts on that front.
Hermione had a drive to know everything. He wouldn't be at all surprised if she sank serious time and energy into finding out the best way to tutor Vincent and Gregory, just to say she could do it.
Still.
'I'll speak with Severus,' he told his charge. 'I'm sure as the Head of Slytherin, he's got insight of his own as to how well or badly they did on their exams last year, and how they passed them at all.'
"Thank you, Fallen," Draco said. "I know he's not happy with me being a Lion, but…I still don't want to disappoint him. If I can do this even as a Gryffindor, he has to see that I'm still everything he raised me to be."
Fallen side-eyed the blond. 'I hope that you are not everything your father raised you to be, Draco. I care a great deal for your father. He's powerful and not to be underestimated, but he is not perfect. He has faults.'
"'Don't be your father'," Draco quoted quietly. "'Be you.'"
Fallen nodded. "Exactly." The wolf said in return.
XX
In the Entrance Hall, Fallen hesitated, glancing between the two boys at the bottom of the massive marble staircase that separated the ground floor from the first, and the actual 'Grand' Staircase that traveled up the rest of the castle, and the short set of stairs that led to the dungeons.
Draco chewed on the tip of his tongue, knowing that if he wanted answers to his question, Fallen needed to talk to Severus, because his godfather would never share the results of a student's exam, no matter who the student, with another student.
Still, Harry was pale and had, apparently without conscious thought, wrapped a tight fist around Draco's wrist, tight enough that Draco was sure there were going to be bruises there in a couple of hours.
"It's just to the common room," Harry mumbled, more to himself than to Draco.
Draco nodded, taking a deep breath. "We'll be fine." He assured Fallen.
Fallen eyed Harry once more, before turning on his tail and disappearing into the shadows of the dungeons. "Don't get into any additional trouble, boys," he called over his shoulder.
Draco rolled his eyes, but, without breaking Harry's grip, started pointedly heading up the stairs towards the Tower.
They were barely halfway there when McGonagall called out to them from behind.
"Mr. Potter!"
Harry's face was blank, though there was a quiver running through the arm, hidden from McGonagall's view by his half-turned body, still attached to Draco's wrist. "Professor?"
"You'll be doing your detentions this evening," McGonagall said, eyeing him. He didn't think she missed the way his arm was twisted behind his back, but thankfully she didn't say anything. "You'll be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."
Harry paled and Draco took a step forward. "Surely he can do something else while Ron helps Lockhart," the blond said, eyeing Harry carefully.
McGonagall looked down her nose at the two of them. "Mr. Weasley will be polishing the silver in the trophy room. Professor Lockhart has requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, Mr. Potter. Pass the word along to your friend."
Harry swallowed nervously and exchanged a glance with Draco.
"Well, imagine the hardship Ron's got, polishing trophies with Filch, I'd wager, given his new ah condition." Draco joked, trying to ease Harry's unease.
Harry grinned, the image pushing the thought of his detention out of his mind for a second. "He's going to love it," Harry said, shaking his head.
XX
"I'm honestly surprised that it has been so long since the year started and you're just now coming to visit me, Fallen," Severus said, returning to his desk, already covered in scrolls organized by year or class, whatever method was currently working for the potions master.
"Things were…hectic, for the first week. The boys are settling into a routine, of sorts."
It said a great deal about Severus' ability to multitask, that he dipped his quill into his ink well and picked up his corrections right where he'd left off, and still listened to the update Fallen gave him regarding his godson and how Draco was settling back into the structure of school given his fear and level of grief over the latter half of the summer.
"And Harry?" Severus asked, waving his wand over the parchment to dry his ink before rolling it up and tossing it, almost negligently, into the pile beside him and, with a curl of distaste, drawing another from his other side. "I imagine he's recovering well, given the support he has here at the school."
"Very," Fallen said, amused that Severus, for all that he claimed to merely put up with Draco's friends, knew that Harry would likely recover better here, with the Valerians and his friends around him, and the structure and distraction of school, than with any of the love and distractions the Weasleys had tried to give him over the summer. "Draco is actually the major concern I have, he has spent the last several weeks using Harry as a distraction, a focus, to avoid thinking about his grief."
"And Harry likely doesn't need him as much any longer," Severus said, humming thoughtfully before swiping his quill through a line of text.
"Not as such," Fallen agreed. "I think he still has a ways to go before he's well, but the boy is making great strides. He walked up to the Tower on his own the day after we returned and he suffered a mild panic attack, if I were to measure them by the one he had upon my arrival at the Dursleys. He was uneasy about walking up with Draco just now, but I don't believe there will be an attack, either."
"Possibly a great stride," Severus told him. "But also keep in mind he may have been leaning on Draco."
Fallen chuckled. "You say that as though he hasn't been doing that since his arrival here at Hogwarts," he said, stretching and taking his favorite spot, a particularly cushioned corner of Severus' office that also afforded him a rather wide view of the room.
Severus turned his head to look at the wolf as he got comfortable. "And the nightmares?"
Fallen didn't bother to ask how Severus knew Harry was having nightmares.
For one, the child had just lost a beloved person and that nearly always led to nightmares, even among adults.
For another, it wasn't much of a secret that Harry had watched Tarana die, brutally and bloodily if Dark and Arcana had been the ones to do it. An animal killing is not nearly as neat and clean as a wizard's spell, after all.
"He can't sleep the whole night through," Fallen admitted instead of asking and getting an obvious answer or, more likely, a down-the-nose 'why-are-you-being-stupid' look, from Severus. "Honestly, that's nothing new for him. He's been having nightmares almost as long as I've known him. Since the troll on Halloween or I miss my guess."
Severus' quill paused over the parchment. "And you and Yoko?"
Fallen closed his eyes, lowering his head.
Of course, Severus would ask.
"She was your queen, after all," Severus added, as though reading the wolf's mind.
"Struggling," Fallen admitted quietly, then, guiltily, "though not as much as we probably should be."
Severus looked over at him and sighed, putting the quill to the side. "I'm going to be blunt, Fallen, because you have done me the courtesy of doing the same over the years. What hurts more: the fact that she's gone and you couldn't do anything to stop it, or that it hasn't hindered you as much as you think the total loss of the Crown should?"
Fallen didn't need to think about it. "The latter," he admitted. "We picked back up as though she was never there. Like serving beneath the Crown for a year never happened."
"You've spent longer without than you have with it," Severus pointed out, uselessly because these were all things that Fallen had already thought about and the professor knew it. "A year certainly wasn't going to override decades of autonomy."
"Mm," Fallen hummed in agreement. "But it felt good to do it. Relieving…." The wolf trailed off with the closest thing to a dreamy sigh Severus had ever heard from the General.
While Severus certainly understood the relief that came from serving a worthy cause or person, he couldn't understand the drive to do so in the same way that the Valerians often tried to explain the connection of the Crown and Collective.
After leaving Fallen to his thoughts and memories, returning to his essays, for several minutes, Severus brought the General back to the present.
"I highly doubt you came simply to inform me of how Draco and Harry were doing in their grief, General, what did you need?"
Fallen snorted quietly. "For months that's all I did last year, Severus, it isn't that far of a reach."
"And yet, you didn't answer my question," Severus pointed out. "I am aware that you and I use one another as 'collaborators' as you call them, Fallen, I'm not offended that you came to see me because you needed something and not to visit."
Fallen side-eyed the potions master because he wasn't offended. "You and I are far from collaborators, Severus," the 'wolf told him. "But yes, I did come here with a question. Draco was reminded today, of the agreement between his family and the Goyle and Crabbe patriarchs. Both are aware, obviously, that the boys passed their exams last year, and Lucius may be running under the mistaken assumption that, despite being in Gryffindor, Draco did hold up that agreement. You and I both know this to be untrue because Draco was too busy running after the Philosopher's Stone and its thief last year."
"You and Draco are wondering if I intervened?"
"I am, certainly," Fallen said. "I doubt it's something Draco thought of."
Severus curled a lip, either at something in the essay he was reading or Fallen's words.
"As with Draco, I didn't have much time to spare on anyone who couldn't keep up with their studies and didn't directly come to me," Severus admitted. "I know that they had assistance, that much is obvious in that they even passed given the marks they normally received on their course work, but I'm afraid that I'm as at a loss as you are in who it was that gave them that assistance. Hopefully, this year remains quieter and I can keep a closer eye on my own students."
Fallen grinned.
Hopefully indeed.
"What is causing you to make that face, Severus? Surely they can't be nearly as bad as your last group of First Years."
Severus' lip curled. "If possible, they get worse every year."
Fallen laughed. "Perhaps you're simply getting too old to put up with this shit, Severus."
Severus rolled his eyes.
XX
When Ron was told that he'd be spending the whole night with Filch, the ill-tempered caretaker of Hogwarts, it was almost as explosive as when Harry and Draco had told him what he'd be spending his detention doing.
Harry had little patience for Ron's theatrics, given what he was going to be spending his night doing and with whom.
Once the amusement had worn off for the both of them, Draco had offered other options, up to and including asking Fallen to step in on Harry's behalf.
One look at Ron, however, and Harry quickly put an end to them.
Ron looked rather mutinous, and though he wasn't looking at Harry, the brunette was sure that Ron wasn't all that pleased with the attention his friend was getting, despite the more 'easy-going' detention of the two of them.
Given Filch's nasty nature, no one was putting it past the man to have Ron clean every trophy and then polish every trophy entirely by hand, the 'muggle way', as the wizards said.
Harry wished they had been able to switch detentions.
He, after all, had more practice polishing silver than Ron ever would.
Yoko, who rarely missed a beat between the children, noticed immediately.
'I can join you, Harry,' he told the child telepathically, in no rush to put pressure where there was no need. 'Ron will be in detention. He wouldn't notice that I wasn't here at the Tower.'
Harry hesitated for half a second, clearly considering it, before eventually deciding that it wasn't worth the risk.
Ducking his head, he shook it subtly.
XX
When Fallen returned, Draco had all but begged his guardian to follow Harry to his detention.
"Lockhart's an idiot," Draco told the wolf. "He can't protect Harry and Harry isn't even comfortable with him."
Fallen glanced at Yoko, who, despite not being able to hear a word of Draco's pleas, seemed to understand what he was asking the General well enough.
'I already offered,' the fox told him. 'He doesn't want an escort. Honestly, Lockhart's foolishness aside, he probably won't need one.'
Huffing through his nose, Fallen turned his full attention to his own charge. 'Draco-'
"Fallen, please,"
'He doesn't need one, Draco,' Fallen said with gentle firmness. 'He is within the walls of Hogwarts and has no interest in one. If he wanted one, he would have asked for one.'
"How many times have we been attacked by Dark or Arcana 'within the walls of Hogwarts'?" Draco snapped.
Fallen sighed. 'Draco, don't be difficult about this. Where have you seen Dark or Arcana to even suggest they're a threat to Hogwarts this year?'
"Nowhere," Draco said easily. "But we didn't see Dark until Halloween last year, and Arcana just showed up."
'Have you asked Harry if this is what he wants?' Fallen asked, recognizing a lost battle when he saw one and changing tactics.
Draco sagged into the couch, glancing at his friend as he came down the stairs with a new roll of parchment and his potions textbook. "No," he muttered. "He doesn't want me to."
'If he wants to do this on his own, Draco, you have no right to try and convince him otherwise. Whether a fool or not, Lockhart is still a professor and, while I will certainly be having words with the Headmaster for allowing Lockhart to even suggest spending time alone with a child I expressly forbid him to have access to, he can still oversee detentions. Wait and see how this pans out. I have no doubt that Harry can probably outmaneuver the idiot even with his meager list of spell knowledge.'
Draco smirked, weak as it was, at the reminder that Lockhart was an idiot with little apparent magical skill.
"And that's rather depressing, given that he's a muggle raised half-blood."
Fallen took the meager win for what it was and sent Draco to complete his Charms homework.
XX
Harry's detention went about as well as one could predict.
For two and a half long hours, Harry addressed envelopes to Lockhart's fans, getting more information with each one than he felt was necessary to the detention.
As it closed in on eleven, Harry was sure that Yoko or Fallen would be coming to find him because this was well past the school's curfew, but Lockhart was so lost in giving Harry 'advice' on his fame and how to handle it, that he was certain the professor had no idea what time it was, let alone that curfew had come and gone.
But the voice, when he heard it, didn't come from one of the Valerians.
"Come-" The voice hissed, high and cold. Harry's head jerked up sharply, frozen by the sheer venom in it.
"Come to me…. Let me rip you-"
For the barest of seconds, Harry was positive that Dark was in the room with him and his fear caused him to jump to his feet, quill and chair both clattering to the floor.
Lockhart looked up abruptly. "Harry?"
"Let me tear you-"
Harry knew he probably looked wild because he felt wild.
"Let me kill you-"
Terror was flooding him and before he knew what he was doing, he'd shoved himself around the desk and taken off, leaving Lockhart to call after him.
XX
Harry didn't know how long he'd been running for before he slammed into another physical body.
He screamed, high-pitched and terrified, hands scrambling to shove the body away from him and met, not fur and flesh, but cloth.
The hands that, barely a second earlier had, likely out of instinct, latched onto him, abruptly released him and Harry scrambled backward until he hit the wall, clawing at it.
"Harry!"
"I believe whatever you've done to the boy already, is quite enough, Lockhart," someone sneered, close - too close, his mind shrieked at him - enough that Harry's gaze snapped to the black blur that stood before him.
"I didn't do anything!" Lockhart insisted, sounding honestly bewildered at the very accusation. "He was serving detention with me and just took off; he didn't even give me a chance to try and help him."
"Detention?" The other professor - Severus, Harry's mind breathed, Severus found him - purred. "At this hour? Surely you are aware that Potter breaks rules left and right, he certainly doesn't need you to give him excuses to do so." The man didn't give the author a moment to counter. "Regardless, I'll deal with his punishment myself. You're obviously too lax to do it properly."
"Don't be too hard on him, Severus," Lockhart said, equilibrium apparently found. "Sounds like he's simply had a long day. I understand the feeling, I once spent-"
"Lockhart," Severus drawled, "It is close to eleven. I would like to deal with the boy quickly and continue my rounds, if you don't mind."
"Right, right, of course!" Lockhart said, already turning away from the two before pausing, finger raised and turning back.
Harry whimpered quietly.
"He will likely need these," the blond said. "Lost 'em a couple of corridors back. He must have been tired, to not notice."
XX
Severus made a soft noise but didn't speak again for several seconds, watching the imbecile walk away.
Only a fool couldn't recognize a panic attack of the level Harry was currently suffering under and mistake it for exhaustion.
The professor deftly flipped the thick-framed glasses in his hand as he tilted his head, mentally going over his approaches, before sinking into a crouch a foot or two away from the child.
"Harry?" he said, far gentler now that there were no witnesses to the moment, either his or Harry's. "Can you hear me?"
Harry made a sharp, whimpering sound in the back of his throat.
"I have your glasses, Harry," Severus said. "It's why you can't see. Can you put them on?"
Harry extended a hand, but it was shaking so badly, as the adrenaline thrummed in his system, that Severus was sure that the Gryffindor was going to stab himself in the eye before he managed to get them situated properly.
Regardless, he wasn't going to risk touching the boy until he'd, if nothing else, given him back his sight.
Sure enough, when Severus handed him the open frames, it took Harry several tries and two hands before he managed to situate them, crooked, on his nose.
The Potions professor took it as a win, however, as the wild left his eyes a little once he could see that Severus was there and alone.
"Better?"
Harry swallowed.
"Can you walk with me?"
Harry pushed away from the wall, knees shaking but supporting him.
Severus' office was too far away, and down too many flights of stairs, to risk Harry walking there on his own, but one of the Defense classrooms was open and empty a little down the corridor and Severus ushered the boy into the room.
A swiftly cast spell and a message was sent to Gryffindor Tower, ordering one or both Valerians, without their charges, to find him and their unspoken charge.
Once the door was closed behind them, Severus turned his attention to the child.
"Harry, do you know what's happening right now?"
Harry clenched his fists and took several deep breaths but shook his head.
"You're having a panic attack," Severus told him. "Repeat that breath you took for me, Harry?"
Harry inhaled, shakily but deeply.
"Again," Severus told him.
The exercise continued for several minutes.
"Severus," Fallen rumbled, voice only partially muffled by the door.
"Can I let them in, Harry?" Severus asked, pushing away from the desk he was leaning against.
Severus didn't get a verbal answer, because Harry's magic was already lashing at the door, snapping it open.
Rather than reassure him, the wandless, accidental magic only made his jaw clench tighter.
Yoko slunk in first, low and unthreatening, leaving Fallen to stand unmoving and stiff, in the doorway.
"He had a panic attack in detention with Lockhart," Severus told them. "I caution you both to act accordingly."
Yoko stopped his almost-crawl several inches away from Harry, but the boy reached out for the fox and Yoko pressed his head up into his hand.
Severus' eyes narrowed, when, even as he was clenching a fist in the short fur, Harry's eyes still slammed closed, fighting a renewed wave of panic.
"What do you feel, Harry?" Severus asked, causing both Valerians to shoot him venomous glares.
He ignored them both.
While his own were far less potent, Severus himself was no secret to panic attacks, though he hadn't had one since he was a child himself. "Physically, what does Yoko's fur feel like?"
He watched Harry's fingers flex in the fur.
"Soft," Harry whispered. "Kind of grainy."
"Is he warm? Cold?"
"Hot," Harry said, pressing his fingers further into the fur, seeking out Yoko's warmth.
"Very good," Severus told him. "Close the door, Fallen."
Fallen, startled at the order, having been focused on Severus coaxing Harry out of what looked to be a rather serious panic attack, took a moment to complete the task.
The wolf sat down by the closed door and watched avidly as Severus successfully coaxed Harry out of the second serious panic attack that Fallen had witnessed.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Yoko asked.
Fallen's eyes narrowed as Harry flinched.
"Did someone attack you tonight?" Severus asked, catching the same flinch that Fallen had and attributing it, as Fallen had, to the way the Valerians 'spoke'.
Harry shook his head, swallowed, and though it took a couple of times, told them of the voice he'd heard in Lockhart's office.
"At first, I thought it was Dark because he talks like that all the time. About killing and maiming people. But now…it wasn't exactly like you guys. I've heard it before I just…I don't remember where!"
Frustrated with himself, Harry pressed his palms into his eyes and rubbed.
"Don't push yourself," Yoko advised him. "It will come to you eventually. You're sure you didn't recognize the voice?"
Harry shook his head. "At first, I thought it was Dark, but…the voice was higher."
Severus gave the sweaty child a once over. "Do you feel you need a Calming Draught?"
Harry hesitated but eventually shook his head.
"Then to bed with you. Come and see me before breakfast in the morning."
Harry pushed himself to his feet, Yoko keeping close.
Fallen approached Severus, leaving the door free to Yoko and Harry.
"And Harry," Severus said, "I highly suggest you don't mention that you're hearing voices."
Harry frowned.
"He's right," Yoko said. "Hearing voices is nothing good, Harry, not even in their world. You've already disproven that it was another Valerian. Best to keep it to yourself while we investigate it for you. If you hear it again, though, you must tell one of us. This creature or person, certainly doesn't seem benign."
Harry nodded. "Thanks, Professor."
Severus twirled a wrist dismissively. "Don't mention it."
Harry gave him a weak smile and nodded, before opening the door and slipping out with Yoko.
XX
There was silence in the empty classroom for several minutes, before Severus pushed away from the desk and went to the door, Fallen at his heels.
'Did Lockhart seem to have noticed the voice?' Fallen asked him.
Severus scoffed. "No," he sneered, "the fool couldn't even differentiate between a panic attack and exhaustion. He heard nothing."
'The owner could be telepathic, I suppose,' Fallen said thoughtfully. 'I'm assuming, using the same logic, that there was no one in the room with them. Harry's detention began at eight. That's a long time to stay silent if it was already in the room with them."
"I'd say the same," Severus agreed. "However, I'm sure you've noticed it as well. Lockhart may be idiot enough to pass off a door opening on its own, but he would still have noticed it. And Harry-"
'Has been hypervigilant since before he arrived at the school. That act alone would have set him off, long before the voice did.'
"Exactly," Severus said. "I'm afraid that, without additional data, we simply don't have enough information to narrow down the possible culprits hunting the boy."
"Hunting." Fallen repeated thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose that's a rather apt term for it. The only thing is, it didn't take advantage of him. Harry is swift and agile; he would have outpaced Lockhart easily. There were likely plenty of opportunities to take Harry out of immediate view and do serious damage, even kill him, before Lockhart ran into someone who would have thought to backtrack and investigate where Lockhart lost sight of him."
"Perhaps…it was purely coincidence," Severus said thoughtfully. "Perhaps the boy has a talent that allowed him to hear this 'creature', but it wasn't meant for him to do so."
Fallen sighed, sensing all his plans for an easy-going year drifting down the drain already. "The fact remains, without additional information, we can't do any more digging."
Severus paused, turning down the stairs to the dungeons. "Take this back to the child," he said, "I have no doubts that his attack has left him still shaking."
XX
It was nearly half-past eleven when Fallen returned to the Tower, a small velvet bag clenched in his teeth.
Per Severus' prediction, Harry was almost feverishly working on his homework, Draco a hovering mess nearby.
Fallen's charge was obviously aware that something had happened, but Harry had obviously declined to share it, which was pushing every protective button Draco had.
"Draco, that's enough," Fallen said. "Leave he and I alone for five minutes. You can come down after that."
"But-"
"That was not a request, Draco. I have questions for Harry regarding his detention that is no business of yours until he is prepared to tell you about them. Do not push this."
Draco bit his lip.
He was familiar with the tone Fallen used, it didn't so much mean 'don't push this', so much as 'don't push me'.
Still….
Harry smiled wanly at Draco. "I'm fine, Draco. Just a little shook up."
Draco glanced between the wolf and Harry before he huffed and stormed up the stairs.
Harry flinched. "I didn't mean to make him jealous."
Fallen tilted his head.
Jealous was not the emotion that most people would have jumped to after that display of childishness.
Irritation at being told to do something he didn't like, anger at being dismissed, but not jealousy.
'That is seriously creepy,' Brandon muttered to the wolf.
Fallen snorted near silently as he approached the child.
'Severus sent this for you,' the wolf told Harry, dropping the velvet bag on Harry's lap. 'I can't force you to take it, but I think it will help you sleep tonight.'
Harry tugged the bag open and pulled out the blue vial. "A Calming Draught?"
"Bright boy," Fallen remarked. 'It was recommended that you take it immediately after a panic attack, as it eases the residual effects.'
Fallen almost wished Severus was here to watch, as Harry pulled to cork from the vial and downed it in one swig, making only a slight face at the taste of it. The potions master always made the most amusing faces, when watching James Potter's son swallow one of his potions so trustingly.
XX
Fallen wasn't particularly surprised when Harry and Draco ended up curled up on the couch in the common room by one in the morning, with Blaise joining them barely an hour later.
'I have to wonder, General,' Brandon said as they watched them curl up together, as tightly as they could likely as much to avoid falling off the couch as it was for comfort. 'Just what curse was laid on that boy, that the hits just keep coming at him.'
Fallen's eyes glittered malevolently in the firelight.
'One that we will burn to ashes. Draco would allow nothing less.'
XX
Miles and miles away from the drama and danger growing at the Scotland magic school, in the darkness, hidden by thick foliage and powerful, wild magic, new life came into the world.
