"What was it like?" Theo questioned as they got out of their room. "With the dementor, I mean." Harry considered snapping (it seemed to be the only thing he was capable of since the previous night) but he was too tired to do. He didn't know why but he was still drained from that debacle with the dementor, even after all the chocolate he'd eaten.

"Unpleasant," he answered with a sigh.

"That was quite obvious." Harry glared at Theo for the dry response.

"I heard screaming, alright?" He rolled his eyes irately. "There was a woman screaming, Theodore. She was pleading for help…and…I don't know who but…."

"You think it's your mother," concluded Theo smartly. "Wouldn't be a surprise."

Harry nodded before running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't get her scream out of my head, Theo…Her scream and the feeling of being of helpless, I can't…I can't get it out of my mind."

"I'm sure you will soon enough," said Theo, encouragingly patting his shoulder. Harry smiled briefly and weakly, glad of his friend's support. His heightened mood didn't last long for it immediately died down when they passed by a group of Slytherins in the common room having the time of their lives at his expense, what with Macnair telling an overly dramatic tale of Harry's debacle with the dementor last night. Aside from disturbing, frightful and unpleasant, Harry found the experience incredibly mortifying.

"Hey Evandrus!" Harry turned his head slightly and saw Macnair doing a very histrionic version of fainting.

"Come on." Theo grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him away. He just let himself be dragged. "Next time, we should just use the passage." Harry just nodded mutely. He still resented the fact that he had fainted in front of a dementor. Granted that even adult wizards could get affected by dementors the way that he did and that the dementor had been actually close to kissing him but Harry thought himself far better than that. That and he was the only bloody person in the train to actually faint.

When they went out of the common rom, Ethan, Draco, and Mark were there. Mark and Ethan seemed to be in an argument over him whilst Draco was the referee.

"What's going on?" Harry asked the three tersely. Mark immediately turned to him with a glare.

"You tell us," said the younger Slytherin hotly, "you've been in a foul mood since last night. And then they all told me that you called me that –that name for muggleborns and that I don't belong here."

Harry glared likewise. "Yes, I did call you a mudblood, but what's it to you?" he questioned the boy, ignoring Ethan's shocked reaction at his admission and use of the word. "And for the record, I didn't say anything about you not belonging here."

"Then why did you call me that?" the boy demanded crossly. "Malfoy and Ethan told me what it means!"

Harry let out a breath loudly. "And?" he inquired with little interest. The boy looked exasperated and angry at his cool response.

"That is as bad as stating that I don't belong in Slytherin house!" Harry couldn't believe it. The boy had the gall to yell at him.

Harry closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. He disliked people yelling at him, moreover when it was someone younger. "I don't have to explain myself to anyone, least of all you," he said with a low voice, towering over the boy. Something flashed in the boy's eyes that Harry couldn't quite determine. And then, the boy ran away.

"Great going, Harold," Ethan commented coldly, shaking his head a bit before running after Mark.

"I was about to get it settled, Harry," said Draco with a frown from behind him.

Harry let out a dubious huff. "Why do you care?" he asked the pureblood.

"He's a Slytherin now." Draco answered in oddly proud manner. "Slytherins stick together."

"Oh please," Harry rolled his eyes as they began heading to the Great Hall, "where on Earth did you get that inane idea? We are probably the most discordant house in all of Hogwarts."

"Slytherin house wasn't this discordant before you and your brother came along," Draco answered without beat. "Crossing the boundary between Slytherin and Gryffindor? No one has ever done that and survived." Harry looked at Theo who was reluctantly to answer.

"Well, mate, you've to concede majority in the house were in terms with each other," Theo explained. "The outspoken ones and the I-don't-give-a-damn ones. Either which, they didn't interact with Gryffindors. Then, as Draco said, you and your brother came along." Theo heaved a sigh. "What I'm trying to say is that Slytherins depend on each other. Slytherins don't usually have lasting friendship with other houses, let alone Gryffindor."

"So, now it's my fault is it?" he asked, annoyed at both Draco and Theo. "Need I remind you two who is a real Slytherin here?"

"Need I ask who has the responsibility to unite the house," Draco quipped.

Harry conceded that his friend has a point. "That's easier said than done," he said. "Besides, what good will it do?"

"People will start seeing Slytherin in a new light," Theo answered. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

"I think you'll find that any house members would want that." Harry shook his head, a bit frustrated. "I want it but it's not something I can do. Not right now."

"You can be nicer to the younger students, for a start," Draco said suggestively.

Harry looked sarcastically at Draco. "Nice try," he said wryly. "I'm not going to apologise for hurting the boy's feelings."

"You could explain." Harry considered Theo's suggestion. Should he really explain himself to the boy? He figured that that would be worse than apologising. He meant it when he said that he didn't have to explain himself to anybody. And he was never the type to apologise. On the few times that he did, it was always with reluctance or just out of politeness.

When they reached the Great Hall, the scene wasn't much different from the common room. A group of students from Gryffindor was doing something very similar to what Macnair did. It was one of those arrogant idiots in Gryffindor, the one who disliked him as much as Macnair despised him. He didn't really remember the arrogant idiot's name.

"New schedule." An older Slytherin girl handed them a parchment each as soon as they sat down on a seat at the Slytherin table.

"I still can't believe that you two took Muggle Studies." Harry thought for sure that his friends wouldn't even be able to step in the Muggle Studies classroom, let alone take the said subject. He had no doubt that his friends would take the subject but he highly doubted that their respective fathers would allow them to.

"Better believe it mate, it's on my schedule." Draco wagged his eyebrows and nearly plastered the parchment on his face. "I told father that it was academically interesting to know what muggles are capable of."

Harry huffed and turned to Theo. "And what was your excuse?"

"Didn't have one," answered Theo. "Mr. Malfoy convinced my dad to let me take it for similar reasons."

"Mr. Malfoy was bridging for you again. Brilliant," he said drily as he looked at his watch. He had a free time of one and a half hour before his first subject –Transfiguration.

"Hello lads!" Harry felt hands on both his shoulders, pushing him down a bit. It was Lawrence who had come to be a pest again.

"Who's taking Divination?" Harry nearly spat his drink upon hearing his brother's question.

"Lawrence, you told me you were not taking that subject!" he said, incredulous that his brother actually took it as well. It was bad enough that his friends didn't listen to him not to take the blasted subject.

"You know it's an absolute joke!" Harry said emphatically to his twin. "Sirius and Remus told you as much."

"That was the idea." Lars grinned at him. "Uncle Sirius said you don't have to do much work in the subject."

"Brilliant!" exclaimed Theo, donning a somewhat triumphant smile that mirrored Draco's.

"Yup!" Lars' grin was starting to unnerve Harry. "Ron and I are headed there now."

"What about Granger?" Draco asked, apparently surprising Lars and Weasley.

"Oh, she didn't take it." Harry found it odd that Lars actually seemed pleased that Granger didn't take the subject. "Actually she wanted to take all the subjects but it was just impossible. She took Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy. I reckon she has the same schedule as you, brother."

"Anyway," Lars looked around, "it's nearly time so shall we?"

"We shall," Draco answered, gathering their things.

"See you later Harry," Theo said before they went off with Lars to Merlin-knows-what classroom.

Harry ended up waiting for Granger who wanted to speak to him.

"Thanks for waiting." Harry said nothing and just nodded at Granger's apology.

"What do you want to speak about?"

"Oh yes, Lars mentioned that you have a library filled with books on different topics and I was wondering if I could borrow a few." Harry thought about refusing but he had faith enough that Granger would take good care of his books. However, there was still a problem.

"I'm not sure if I could lend you," he told her. "I've been recently….banned from certain things." Granger's face fell.

"But, I'll ask my dad," he added. "Though don't get your hopes."

"That's ok, thank you so much," Harry stepped back when he thought Granger was making a move to hug him. She did it often enough to some people like his brother and Weasley.

"What book do you want to borrow?" he asked, deliberately ignoring Granger's gratitude.

"I was hoping…something about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"A bit vague." He frowned. "Nothing specific? Just anything about those subjects?"

"Yes, sorry, maybe elementary books about those. I'm not sure about titles."

"Alright, noted."

Harry spent majority of his free time in the Great Hall with Granger at the Gryffindor table. Anyone could consider Gryffindor table as his refuge at the moment. It was better than being in Slytherin table for the time being due to a couple of reasons. Firstly, Daphne was giving him deathly cold looks. Secondly, there were lesser people in the Gryffindor table. And thirdly, Macnair was still there.

"I know you're upset about that thing with the dementor last night but you shouldn't be a total arse about it." Granger's voice took him out of his reverie.

Harry sighed. "I'm more than upset Granger," he answered, taking his eyeglasses off momentarily before putting it back on again.

Granger suddenly laughed mockingly, puzzling him a bit. "Harry Evandrus and pride, the love that dare not speak itself." Harry glared at her. The nerve of that muggleborn to actually mock him.

Harry gritted his teeth. "It's not just pride," he said to her forcefully.

"Vanity then?"

Harry opened and shut his mouth a couple of times before he settled on glaring at her. "Careful Granger," he warned with almost a hiss.

"Hit a nerve, have I?" Granger asked in an innocent way but with a certain glint in her eyes. "And seriously Harry, it's 'Hermione'. You've known me for 2 years."

"Sod off, Granger," he grumbled.

"You fainted, okay," she continued on, much to Harry's chagrin, "But you don't have to act foul to everyone because of it."

"Easy for you to say, Granger, you weren't the one who fainted!"

"No, but you're very upset because you think yourself better than fainting over a dementor."

"Granger, whatever you may think, this is not only about my problem with the dementor!"

"Yes, you also have a problem with Dudley's sorting." Harry gaped a little and she continued. "Or rather, he didn't get sorted in the house that you wanted."

"Were you in my position, you'd understand."

"Maybe, maybe not." Granger shrugged. "Oh before I forget, you should apologise to her."

Harry snapped his mouth shut and crossed his arms. "I didn't do anything," he said with a scoff, glancing momentarily at the Slytherin table all the while being contemptuous of the know-it-all Gryffindor.

"Well, your attitude last night clearly offended her," Granger said crossly. "She couldn't have been that cross at you over nothing, Harry."

"Wha- how would you even know?"

"Oh seriously Harry." Granger looked extremely exasperated at him. "We're neither blind nor deaf. We saw you arguing last night! And some of your housemates are talking about it. She was being sensible and you were being an arse."

Harry made no effort to deny it. "So," he muttered, looking away from her.

"So," Granger slammed a notebook in front of him. It was effective in turning his gaze back to her, "you should apologise for whatever happened last night!"

Harry scoffed and slammed his own book in front of Granger. "Not a chance," he told her acidly. "I'm not apologising to anyone."

"Even to Mark?" Granger would bring that up, go figure. "You shouldn't have said that word, Harry. You know it's foul and it offends muggleborns like me."

Harry huffed contemptuously. "I don't see you crying about being called a mudlblood." Granger visibly cringed at his use of the word. "See my point?"

"That doesn't mean it's not offensive or hurtful, Harry." Granger shook her head as if in regret. "You have a muggleborn mother –yes I know where from, and a muggleborn brother and yet you use such demeaning word so easily."

"It's just a word."

"Don't be such a hypocrite!" Granger finally snapped at him. "You hate it when they call your mother that way and yet you insist that it's just a word. If so, were you just playing at being truly affected?!" Granger's last line was like a slap on his face. 'Playing at being truly affected' had never been an accusation to him before. And quite rightly too because he had never ever played at being affected when his mother was being insulted. He hated people who would even dare insult his deceased mother.

"I think you've said quite enough, Hermione," he said quietly, lowering his head.

"No."

Harry raised his head again and resumed glaring at her. "What?" he demanded.

"You still need to apologise to her and to Mark."

"I am not apologising to anyone." Harry had already figured that Granger –Hermione would incessantly bug him to apologise. What he didn't realise was that Hermione would do it physically. One moment they were seated there at the Gryffindor table, the next moment, Hermione was dragging him towards the Slytherin table with such strength he didn't expect from her.

"Ow! Hey, shove off!" Hermione grabbed his ear first like he was a child and then his elbow. It didn't help that he was shorter than her. She didn't relinquish her hold on him until they were behind Daphne.

"Hi Daphne." Harry continuously glared at Hermione and refused to look at Daphne who was likely going to give him a glare as well.

"Hi Hermione, good morning." Daphne's voice sounded bright enough. However, Harry still didn't think that she would retain that tone of voice when speaking to him. He didn't know why he was even bothered anyway. All he knew was that Daphne being extremely cross at him was giving him the creeps.

"Harry wants to say something."

"I most certainly do not –ow!" Hermione stepped on his foot quite hard. He may have broken a nail.

"Oh fine," he took a deep breath and faced Daphne who was not glaring at him but instead was giving him a detached look. He frankly didn't know which was worse.

"I, I….." Harry stammered a couple of times before properly saying "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Daphne asked as Harry felt like her eyes were boring deep in him.

"Just sorry." Harry still refused to look at Daphne, though when he did, her scarily upset eyes bothered him even further and made him genuinely contrite.

A moment passed by and neither of them said anything. Harry would've settled with a less than friendly 'sod off' from Daphne but still it seemed like she was only waiting for him to answer her properly.

"Ow!" Harry glared at Hermione who pinched his shoulder quite hard though with the appearance of a simple grip. He really needed that girl to stop with the violence. It was getting way out of hand.

Eventually, Harry resignedly decided to apologise properly. He sighed. "I'm sorry for acting like a total arse last night.," he said. "I was upset but I didn't need to act all foul to you." Harry began going nervous when Daphne wasn't saying anything. For all he knew, she would just tell him to sod off and go a long, long way away. He preferred it before he explained but after the explanation, he wasn't quite thrilled with the idea of being told to sod off.

"Apology accepted." Harry released a breath that he didn't know he was holding after Daphne said those two words.

"Thank you," he blurted out in relief.

"You're still an arse." Daphne retorted but with a small smile.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Hermione said, lightly patting Harry's shoulder. Harry said nothing but he revelled in the fact that Daphne wasn't cross with him anymore. He felt lighter all of a sudden, something he didn't quite expect.

The three of them went to McGonagall's classroom at the same time. Harry ended up taking a seat on the front row with Daphne, having not seen any free spaces left near his brother's at the last row. Lawrence seemed off for some reason. He looked decidedly lugubrious, cheek on his hand and absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the table.

Even as Professor McGonagall started teaching them about Animagus transformations, Harry kept on glancing at his brother. He also didn't fail to notice that his classmates were less than enthusiastic at the moment. And Professor McGonagall noticed it too.

"Alright, what is the matter with all of you," she asked after transferring back to her human form. Many of his classmate's respective heads turned towards Lawrence whose sad look was now mixed with annoyance.

"What in Merlin's bollocks are you lot looking at?" Lawrence's rather crude words echoed in the classroom as their classmates removed their gazes on him.

"Language, Mr. Potter!" chided Professor McGonagall. "What is this all about?"

"They've just gotten back from their Divination class, Professor," Harry informed the head Gryffindor who immediately frowned.

"No wonder." the Professor said knowingly. "And let me guess, you're the one who's going to die this year, Mr. Potter?" Harry narrowed his eyes at the Transfigurations professor's question. It oddly reminded him of the time when he asked Theo who had gotten killed.

The room was silent for a moment before Lawrence answered "yes, Professor."

"We all know you've a remarkable record with escaping death," Harry piped up before he could stop himself. Either way, many, including Professor McGonagall, seemed to agree with what he had said.

"Not to worry, Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall, eyes fixed on Lawrence, "Professor Trelawney has been predicting the death of a student since she arrived. No one has died, so far. And I doubt anyone actually would. Seeing death omens is her morbid yet favourite way of greeting new students." Professor McGonagall clearly disliked Divination. Then again, who wouldn't? Divination had always been a very imprecise and obscure branch of magic. Seers were very rare and even when there was a seer present, none have ever had a concrete prediction of the future. Prophecies or predictions, one way or another, were all self-fulfilling.

"You look healthy enough, Mr. Potter," remarked the professor. "That said, you are not excused from assignments. In the case that you die, you need not submit it." Harry smirked at the professor's humour.

Their class proceeded normally after that. The rather gloomy air that surrounded them earlier was no more. When their class ended, the five of them went back to the Great Hall for lunch, as did the other students.

"Wanna join us?" Harry looked over at the Gryffindor table first and upon seeing that both Ethan and Mark were there, he flat out declined. But, Lars was having none of it.

"Harry," said Lars, handling him by both his shoulders, "I didn't nag at you –Merlin knows you've had enough of that already but could you PLEASE just approach them?"

"Know and accept when you're on the wrong end, brother." Lars added firmly.

Harry shrugged off his brother's hands and stood up straight. "Fine," he said coldly. He glanced at the three who had openly admonished him and then went off to where Ethan and Mark are seated.

"Ethan, Mark." The two younger ones turned to look at him. Ethan was giving him a rather cold look whilst Mark was still with that glare.

"I'm sorry for what I said, alright," Harry said evenly but with evident reluctance. "I shouldn't have called you that. I know it's very offensive for the likes of you." Harry ignored the light scowl that Mark gave him.

"Though frankly," he added after a beat, "I still don't know what is with the fuss you're making about it. Offensive word or not, it is true that you don't have an immediate magical heritage and therefore considered as such. That and you shouldn't have been surprised. I told you beforehand. Contrary to what Ethan may believe, bloodline is of relative importance in this world. I also told you not to be too affected when others call you derogatory names. It was bound to happen."

"And Harry really means to apologise," Lars butted in as soon as he reached the Gryffindor table and overheard his brother's words. He stepped in front of Harry and blocked the younger ones' view of Harry. Trust his brother to muck up an apology. He probably shouldn't have bothered Harry over apologising.

"He's sorry for calling you that word, he really is, believe me," Lars said to Mark. He could understand why Mark was hurt that Harry had called him the 'm' word. It was quite evident that Mark already began looking up to Harry and didn't quite expect that Harry would act like a total arse. It was bad enough being bullied during the first night in the Slytherin dormitory, it didn't help hearing such derogation from someone he looked up to.

"Truce now?" Lars smiled brightly at the two. Though Ethan seemed to lighten up, seeing as Harry didn't really insult him, he couldn't say the same for Mark.

"Yeah sure, truce" Mark answered with a shrug. "But I want Harry to make it up to us."

"Don't -"

Lars cut off whatever his twin was going to say. "Yes, of course he will," he said.

"Lawrence-"

"Really?"

"Whatever you two want."

"Enough!" Harry's raised voice took the attention of everyone nearby. Lars suddenly wished he didn't entertain the 'making up' thing. His brother was giving him an incredibly indignant stare. He was thankful that Harry didn't accidentally blast off someone. He never told his brother but he'd known what Harry accidentally did to Ron months ago. He wanted to confront Harry about but Ron told him not to bother, heavily telling him that it was an accident. He believed it, of course. He knew Harry would never physically hurt someone on purpose just to make a point. At least, he'd never seen his twin do it.

"I am not making it up to anyone," declared Harry, crossing his arms.

"We're just messing, Slyther-bro," said Ethan with a grin. Harry rolled his eyes but said nothing and turned his back on them. Lars' eyes followed his brother. He expected Harry to go to the Slytherin table but instead went out of the Great Hall itself. Lars just shook his head. His twin definitely had a stubborn streak that would equal his.

"His pride will make it, don't worry," Ethan remarked, resuming whatever card game he was playing with Mark.

Lars sighed and took a seat opposite Ron.

"You can't always act as conscience for your brother, you know," Mark said as he sat down. Lars looked at the boy with inquiring eyes.

"Mr. Not-nice-guy should learn to apologise on his own," explained Mark. "My mum told me that people should apologise because they want to and not because people told them to."

"That's a lot to ask from Harry," Ethan commented. "Midas had to ground him for a year, removing like everything he likes to do just so he'll apologise to that student in Virginia –in slytherbro's defence, the moron really deserved it."

"Why? What'd he do?" Lars asked, interested at the trouble that his twin had gotten in to.

"It's a bit extreme, yeah," said Ethan in almost a warning tone, "he liked picking on us; me, Luke, and Harry. I think I was his favourite though because -"

"Harry, I meant Harry." Lars cut off. "What did Harry do?"

"Well…he…..hmm…." Ethan looked up for a second before looking at them again, though with quite a confused look. "Oh yeah, I think he gave the moron some boils that c-" They all stopped short of doing their stuff when someone entered the Great Hall yelling Lars' whole name at the top of his lungs.

"Colin," exclaimed Lars as the mousy boy got near to them with another mousy boy, Colin's little brother, Dennis. "I could hear you without yelling."

"Lars…Harry…it's Harry….." Colin looked a bit out of breath. "Castle grounds quick!" Colin ran off again. Lars wasted no effort in following the younger Gryffindor. As he ran his way through, he noticed that quite a lot of students were also heading to where they were going, interest evident on their faces.

When they did reach the ground, they saw Harry and Macnair at the centre of the students who were merely spectators. Harry was standing a few feet away from the older boy, serious and eyes narrowed but with an ironically relaxed countenance signalled by the carefree way he was standing with his hands in his pockets. It was surprising that Macnair was on his knees, hands on his neck, face tinged with an alarming shade of purple. And then Lars stilled at the realisation that Macnair was choking on something.

"Harry stop!" Lars turned. Ethan was pushing himself through the crowd, even pushing past him. Lars tried stopping him but it was of no use. Ethan was adamant to get to Harry's side. Lars followed and stood beside his brother as Ethan pleaded.

"Stop, please," their younger brother said. Lars looked at Macnair then at Harry. Was Harry the one choking Macnair?

"Beg Macnair," said Harry, voice as cold and empty as a dementor.

"Harry, if you're doing this, please stop," Lars implored his brother, even though he still wasn't sure that his brother was actually the one doing it. He was well aware that his older twin could do nonverbal wandless magic, and at a greater degree than he could, but not to the degree of having someone strangle themselves.

Harry removed his hands from his pockets and raised them with an innocent look on his face. "I don't have my wand out, brother," said Harry calmly, waving his hands as if to prove a point.

"Harry please stop!" Ethan yelled, trembling.

Even then, Harry still didn't listen. Instead, Harry smiled creepily at Ethan before walking forwards, nearer to Macnair. Again, they heard Harry telling Macnair to beg. Macnair's choking session stopped for a moment and the older boy coughed rather violently before the choking resumed.

"Ethan, what is going on?" Lars asked, very confused of the situation.

"He has to stop," Ethan answered before speaking very loudly.

"I'm telling Midas!" Ethan had yelled. Harry slowly turned around to them so menacingly that Lars thought for a second that he should tell Harry to continue on with Macnair. As Harry turned, Macnair's choking stopped again and didn't resume. The older boy took his time fleeing as Harry walked back to Ethan and Lars.

"You will what?" asked Harry, immediately gripping Ethan by the collar.

"I'm telling Midas," Ethan repeated firmly. When Lars noticed Harry's grip tightening on Ethan's collar, he finally intervened and forcefully removed Harry's hand from Ethan.

"Have you gone mental?!" Lars was horrified that his twin brother actually man-handled their little brother. Harry blinked a few times at him then suddenly looked like he'd just woken up. He looked at Ethan and then back to him before making a run for it. Lars figured it wasn't much effort running away from them since the students around basically made way for Harry.

Lars tried to follow but Ethan grabbed him back.

"Leave him alone," said Ethan, fixing his collar. "He'll snap out of it."

"He had just manhandled you!" Lars found it unsettling that Ethan was that calm about what Harry did.

"I know." Ethan sighed. "Trust me, just leave him alone. He'll snap out of it. It's not the first time he'd lost his cool like that." Lars stared at Ethan, actually quite horrified.

"What?!" exclaimed Lars. "Not the first time he strangled someone near death?"

"In Harry's defence, this was the first time he actually did the strangling thing," Ethan said drily. "He frequently just submerge them in water until they've passed out."

Lars scowled at his little brother's morbid attempt at humour. "If you're joking, it's not funny," he said austerely. Ethan merely gave a noncommittal shrug.

"It's the truth," said the boy. "Whether you think it's funny or not, that's up to you."

"What he did was bloody brilliant though." Lars didn't notice that Mark was nearby. But then he should have. The boy was practically Ethan's shadow the way Theo was Harry's. Hermione and Ron were apparently there too, looking a bit gobsmacked.

Lars couldn't help it, he slapped the back of the boy's head. "Are you mad?" he questioned the boy. "Harry almost choked Macnair to death!"

Mark waved a hand dismissively, slightly fuelling Lars ire. "I'm sure he deserved what he got." said the boy with little care.

"That's totally barbaric!" Hermione exclaimed. Ron snorted at the side, earning him a glare from Hermione.

"'mione, come off," said Ron. "Who around here deserves his arse getting handed to him more than Macnair? He's vile! I agree with Mark."

"This isn't some playground fight!" Hermione snapped. "He could've killed Macnair and he'd be in Azkaban!"

"Should give him an Order of Merlin for it," Ron said stubbornly.

"Alright enough," Lars said to his two friends. 'Harry' and 'Azkaban' didn't mix up well in his mind. "We've got to go. We have classes and…there! We have classes. Let's go!" Lars walked swiftly, Ethan, Mark, and his friends trailing behind them.

The whispers were circling again. As they passed by a group of students they were looked at for a bit and then gossiped. Lars could feel it. It was second year all over again, only this time, it involved Harry.

"P-professor McGonagall," Lars stuttered, surprised that his Head of House was waiting for them by the door of the Great Hall, along with the Creevey brothers.

"Messrs Potter and Evandrus, you are requested in the Headmaster's office, the three of you," she looked at Hermione, Ron, Mark and the younger Creevey, "you may return to your classes."

"Take Mr. Creevey with you, he'd know the password." McGonagall left them immediately afterwards.

"How'd they know," questioned Ethan, sounding very annoyed that they were called to the office. Colin shrugged and merely replied "Prefect". Lars wondered who the prefect was. He or she was at least sensible enough to tell a professor. Lars recognised a prefect or two amongst the circle of students spectating Harry's almost murder of Macnair.

They walked around a few corners before they stopped at the gargoyle. It was odd but Lars didn't think it was too thrilled on him being there. It was likely due to him demanding entrance months ago. Lars smirked. At least it worked.

"Pumpkin Pastries," Colin said. The gargoyle immediately sprang to life and revealed the spiral staircase that moved upwards.

"Oh cool, Hogwart's escalator." Lars was a bit confused at his little brother's remark but the Creevey brothers understood. It must be a muggle reference. They stepped on the staircase one by one, Lars being the last to step. When he reached the top of the staircase, the door was already open and they immediately entered Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore was there on his throne like chair and Snape stood beside him. Lars ran his eyes around the room when he entered and saw no sign of his brother there. He thought for sure that Harry would be called as well.

"Care to tell us what had happened?" Snape immediately said when they were all horizontally lined up. Colin immediately rambled on something about Macnair egging Harry repeatedly about the dementor and Harry repeatedly turning his back until Macnair said "did you hear her scream?" and proceeded to torment Harry by insulting their deceased mother.

"And what did we hear about Mr. Evandrus strangling Mr. Macnair?" enquired Snape.

"I don't think he did," Lars said quickly before any of the younger ones could say otherwise.

Lars took a deep breath. "We went there when Colin called us," he explained to the professors as calmly as he could. "Harry wasn't near Macnair, he didn't have his wand out. Everyone saw that he didn't. No spell was thrown about. Harry just stood there. It must have been someone else."

"And why did the Gryffindor Evandrus yell at his brother to stop?"

"He thought he was going to fight Macnair. He didn't want that." Lars looked at Ethan, daring the boy to contradict him. Ethan looked like he wanted to tell the truth but relented.

"Slytherbro wouldn't survive a brawl with Macnair," said Ethan. "I don't want him in a fight and our guardian wouldn't like it."

"Is that so?" Snape evidently didn't buy their story but refrained from commenting even when Dumbledore told him to leave along with Colin.

"Please sit down," said the Headmaster once Snape stalked his way out of the room. They were both reluctant to do so but eventually did when the old Professor gave them a hard look for a brief time.

Dumbledore spoke. "I do not appreciate lying, Messrs Potter and Evandrus." His tone was stern, quite unlike the tone Lars was used to hearing.

"We're not lying," he insisted stubbornly. "It's the truth."

"From a certain point of view," Dumbledore said wryly, looking straight at him without a twinkle in his eyes. "Lawrence, please." Lars looked away from the old man's eyes. He didn't want Harry to get into trouble. It was Macnair's fault!

"Are we finished?" he asked, standing from his seat.

"Sit down." When Lars didn't, the headmaster repeated the order firmly. Lars had to gulp and follow Dumbledore's order.

"This is very serious, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore gravely. "I implore that you start speaking truthfully."

"Don't bother," said a voice from somewhere in the room. "I'll tell you everything." The voice just resonated in the room that Lars couldn't figure out where in the room it came from. He was very sure that it was Harry's though.

"We can dispense with the games, my boy," said Dumbledore. Slowly, Harry appeared like an apparition and walked to the side of the Headmaster's throne like chair from behind.

"Harry!" Ethan exclaimed though Harry didn't seem to mind him.

"Would you like the short story or the long story?" asked Harry, looking at the Dumbledore. Lars slightly envied that Harry could talk to Dumbledore with such ease, unlike him.

"The true story, would do," replied the Headmaster.

"Fine," Harry said. "Macnair was being his usual moronic self, goading me about things. I refused to be goaded at first then he brought in my mother. I suppose…all hell broke loose afterwards." Harry looked a bit exasperated for a second. "I don't remember everything. Everything was a bit…..hazy. I remember being very angry….and…..collaring my brother." Harry glanced at Ethan. It was an almost apologetic look that he saw in his brother's eyes. Almost.

"We could dispense with the lecture, old man," Harry said snidely at the same time Dumbeldore opened his mouth. "I know I should've controlled my temper more."

"Mind your tone, young Harry," Dumbledore said patiently. Harry looked sheepish for a bit before donning a straight face again.

"Yes, of course," answered Harry before a horrified look passed on his face. "Please tell me you didn't owl my guardian."

"I had no intention to," Dumbledore answered. "However, I do believe your professor already has."

"Snape?" Harry exclaimed, outrage evident in his tone.

"The other one," Dumbledore merely answered. Lars wondered who the other one was before realising that there was only one person in the school personally close to Harry's guardian.

"I swear I didn't mean to, Professor," Harry said. Lars could almost sense the desperation in his brother's voice for Dumbledore to believe him. In fairness, he didn't think his brother really meant to hurt anyone, even if it was Macnair. But he just lost it when Macnair incessantly insulted their mother. How did the idiot even know Harry heard a woman's voice when he was faced with a dementor?

"I know, Harry." The Headmaster looked sympathethic. "However, this matter is very serious. You cannot go about losing your temper like that."

"Yes…I just –I couldn't help myself professor."

Professor Dumbledore sighed. "50 points from Slytherin and detention with your head of house for a month."

"Not him!" Harry protested immediately, "Please, anyone but him."

"Very well," Dumbledore surprisingly conceded, "with Professor McGonagall then, for a month, starting tomorrow. No more contestations."

Harry nodded acceptingly with the change. "Can we go now?" With Dumbledore's permission, Harry ordered them to leave, him following behind.

"Lawrence," Harry said when they've exited the office.

"Yeah?"

"Keep Sirius and Remus off my back."