Chapter TWO

With only an hour left before dinner the next evening Harry left his cousin behind in the old forgotten classroom on the third floor after their practice. His attempt at legilimency had been pitiable at best, he had been unable to dive into Orion's mind. Despite the obviously weak occlumency shields his cousin had erected in his mind Harry had found himself incapable of diving through it or find a way around them. The closest he had gotten was to rattle the wall, an action that had sent Orion screaming in pain, but hadn't given him access to a single memory. The only comfort Harry could take from their little practice was that at least Harry's own shields had been stronger than his cousin's.

Unlike Orion, who had imagined his shield as a metal wall, not unlike the vault doors at Gringotts, Harry's shield was a thick mist in which Orion had gotten lost for a good 15 minutes, stumbling around blindly, before Harry got bored and pushed him out, physically sending him flying backwards in the process. And that was only the outer layer of his shield.

But despite this the only thing Harry could conclude from this experiment was that he needed more books. And not just on theory. But it would have to wait until Yule, a book like that would be too risky to bring into the castle. After all, every painting, ghost, armour, statue, and house-elf were possible spies, mostly for the headmaster and professors, but he had no doubt some may be spying for others. After all, he knew a painting of one of his own ancestors regularly spied for the Blacks. Or so his mother told him.

Entering the Gryffindor common room Harry was not surprised to find Tim all but jumping up to greet him. This, if only for a moment, made Harry remember Orion's description of his friend, before he quickly pushed the thought away.

"You are late." Tim informed him, though he didn't sound either surprised or upset by the fact.

"I told you, I had to talk with my cousin." Harry said. "It took longer than expected."

"Fine. But you still have to help me with my defence essay."

"What exactly do you need help with?"

"Everything." Tim grinned, making Harry sigh. He really should have let the hat put him in Slytherin.

"Really? You want me to explain what a werewolf is to you?"

"Not this week's homework. I still haven't handed in last week's. I was given an extension." Harry didn't know anyone else who would be able to talk his way into getting that, except maybe Riddle. But the Slytherin had been lagging behind slightly this year… compared to his usual standards at least, and Harry had to admit he was curious as to why that was. Riddle had always taken great pride in his studies and he wanted to know what he was up to that trumped that.

"And what is it you don't know about Dementors? Being wizard raised I assumed you would know what they do, and how,"

"But I don't understand why they work with the ministry. Or why the ministry is working with them." Tim protested.

"That is not part of the essay. All you have to do is explain what they can do, and how you can defend yourself from them. And you find all that in the textbook. It wasn't a particularly hard assignment."

"If I am going to be a politician I need to understand the other aspects as well." Tim informed him, reminding Harry of his friend's long-term goal. It really was a profession that would suit him well, especially with his… talent. "And given your mother's family background I thought…"

"Ok, I will tell you after dinner, but you will have to find sources to back it up yourself if you add it to your essay."

"No problem. If you tell me where to find them." He grinned, and not for the first time Harry wondered if Tim really was worth all the work it took to maintain their relationship. He knew what his mother would say, and his father, and while the reasons couldn't have been more different the answer would have been the same. Yes, his talents were useful, and Yes, he really was a good friend. Both were things Harry valued.

"Let's go downstairs, I'm starving." Harry said, giving Tim an amused smile that was at least a little genuine as he reminded himself that why he liked Tim despite his occasional laziness.

When they walked into the Great Hall Harry was surprised to find Riddle already seated at the Slytherin table. It had been days since he had last seen him at a meal. Usually, it wouldn't have been something he would have noticed, he and Riddle didn't exactly talk often, but he, like the rest of the school, had always been a little drawn to him. It was also more than a little curious that an orphaned muggle-born had been able to make his proud pureblooded cousin his lapdog.

Riddle caught him looking and raised an eyebrow in challenge. Harry returned the gesture without a second thought, not really knowing why but it made Riddle smirk and gestured to the empty spot next to him. It was usually his cousin's spot. Surly his cousin wasn't stupid enough to tell Riddle where he had gone and why earlier. No, a Black's loyalty was always to family first, unless of course, you were trying to kill off a rival heir… but he was hardly that.

"Why did you stop?" Tim asked, interrupting his musing.

"Just looking for my cousin." Harry said, finally looking away from Riddle.

"Well, do it from the table. You are not the only one starving. Let's go."

Harry threw one last glance at Riddle, who by now had turned his attention elsewhere, before he allowed Tim to drag him towards their table.

Sitting down he easily allowed himself to slip into his Griffindor Potter skin, enthusiastically discussing the team's new keeper's performance in the last Quidditch game. Sometimes he wondered if everyone with parents on different sides of the magic spectrum felt the same. More often than not he felt like two different people, it was only very rarely he felt like himself. There was no one who knew all of him. One of his earliest memories was his mother telling him to keep his ability to speak with serpents secret from his father, and while his father never asked him to keep things secret, he knew better than to tell his mother of some of the things his father said and did, if only to keep the peace at home.

His parents did not love each other, that much was clear, but they did hold some affection for each other and he had no doubt that they both loved him. But with one pushing him towards politics and the pursuit of power, and the other telling him to enjoy life and not to worry. To say he grew up with mixed messages and the occasional identity crisis was to put it mildly.

Halfway through dinner Harry noted Orion speaking into the great hall, making his way towards Riddle. To most people it would be nothing strange, but if Harry noted his weariness he had no doubt that Riddle did too. Harry hadn't pushed him that hard and Occlumency was hardly taxing, it made Harry wonder what else Orion had done before rejoining his housemates.

Returning to the tower Harry penned a letter to his mum. She would want an update in his endeavours and would make sure to have the right material ready when he returned home for Yule in a couple of weeks.

Last year he had celebrated at the Potter estate with his grandparents, and if he was honest he was quite relieved it would be with the Blacks this year. Yule celebrations with the Potters always seemed to focus only on him, being the only child. This year it would be at Grimmauld Place with all the cousins. Though the thought did remind him that he would have to arrange yule gifts during their next Hogmead visit, and owl order some gifts from Diagon and Knockturn. Usually he kept away from the latter, but he was planning to push Tim a bit by providing him with some more grey potion ingredients from the Knocktun Apothecary this year. Nothing too borderline, but he was beginning to notice how the more common potions and ingredients no longer challenged his friend. And a talent like his should be nurtured, not restricted by foolish stereotypical notions of dark and light.