Consequence of thine own actions

Harry had peeled off what was left of his clothes, ignoring how the blood had began to dry, leaving bits of it tacky and stiff. He concentrated on forcing his legs to walk across the room to the closest cubical and promptly turning the water as hot as it could go, all the while trying as hard as he could to stop his limbs from shaking. As the scalding water washed away the thick, viscous troll blood from his hair, the strained calm and adrenaline left his body without his permission. His knees gave out from under him, slamming painfully on the porcelain tiles and he only just got his arm out in front of him to save himself a broken nose.

He could still feel the air shift his hair as the troll's hand had swept passed, barely missing him. Could still feel the sensation of warm blood splashed across his face. Almost in slow motion he could see the skin split as the spell hit the beast's throat. At the edges of his mind other similar memories edged their way in. Blood split that was too red to be anything other than human. Screams and cries of people he'd never met and never would. His breath came quicker and quicker as he struggled to calm down.

Knowing from past experience that he would pass out if he continued to breath too quickly, he forced himself to slowly blow against the pure white tile inches from his face. With his lungs empty, Harry carefully willed his body to take a slow breath, tilting his head to keep the water from his face, even as part of him insisted he continue his rapid heaving breaths. He began to count, 1...2...3...4... Slow breath in. 1...2...3...4... Slow breath out.

It had took him a while to take a hold of himself and begin to go through his Occlumency exercises. Before too long he had picked himself up off of the tiled floor and finished his shower, picking a few larger splinters from his upper arm and shoulder, rinsing grey blood clots from his hair and scrubbing his skin clean. With a towel around his waist and another in hand, making his hair fluff up around his head, he slipped into the still empty dorm room and quickly threw his pyjamas on.

Feeling exhausted but too wired to sleep, Harry pulled out a book from his trunk and settled on top of the sheets to read. He didn't take the words in front of him in, instead he found himself thinking again of his encounter with the troll and about how everyone was taking the news that he'd killed it. He'd meant to wait up until he was joined by Nott at least but must have fell asleep as the next thing he knew he was being woken up by Nott for their morning run. He was shocked to find he'd left the curtains of his bed open and unguarded all night. He would never do that again.

Both boys waited to speak about the elephant in the room until they were outside the castle and beginning their run with a slow jog to warm up. Harry could still feel the usual bone ache and heaviness that came with over-use of his magic but he was also used to pushing through it. He'd never had much opportunity to rest outside of his cupboard and while he could here, he felt like he shouldn't allow himself to slow down. Slowing down was weakness he couldn't allow to be. The night before had shown him just how prepared for anything he needed to be if he was going to survive this place.

"What's what, then?" Harry asked, not wanting to wait, knowing Nott's breath would not last long.

"The consensus seems to be that one of the teachers or a Gryffindor prefect killed the beast and you were caught in the crossfire. Not everyone believes that but no one said anything outright. You'll have to watch out for Warrington and his friends. I think you've intrigued some of them in your dealings with Malfoy and now this, they'll probably come out of their holding pattern. But, erm... Which way they'll go, I'm still not sure on. They've been watching you closely." No- Theo smirked. "You're not what they expected."

"I'm not what anyone expected." Harry snorted, but he still felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end at the thought of being watched so closely by the upper years.

Theo sniggered as well.

"What do you think the teachers think?" Harry asked after they were half way through their jog.

Nott shrugged, breathing heavily. "What did you tell them?"

"Quirrell started retching straight away, could hardly look at the thing. McGonagall took Granger off to the hospital wing so Snape brought me back to his office to interrogate me." Harry told him, realising that he hadn't shared any details the night before.

"Wait, Granger was there?"

Harry nodded. "That why I even stuck around, instead of just running for my life. I was worried people would find a way to blame me if a Muggleborn got injured. Or, you know.. Worse."

Nott scrunched up his nose. "Yeah, probably."

They both knew what some people had been saying about him since the sorting. They both knew he had to keep his nose extra clean. Everything he did could be construed as political. If he leaned too much towards the 'light' side, he would be labelled a Blood traitor by those who didn't already think of him as such. If he said anything even slightly considered 'Dark', most of the population would turn on him. He'd had people turn on him in the past thanks to his Aunt and Uncle. He didn't need that happening here either. Not with the amount of eyes that were on him, nor the way the youngest Weasley boy had been going on.

"So I ended having to tell Snape I used blasting hexes to get its attention and destroy it's club and a cutting curse, which I over-powered in my panic."

Theo frowned at him, puffing slightly and slowing down. Harry slowed as well. He could see Nott's magic twist gently in a pattern Harry had come to recognise as deep thought.

"An over-powered cutting curse? The only one we've gone over is no where near powerful enough to have cut through a Troll's skin, no matter what you put into it."

He took a moment to decide how to answer Theo's obvious, if unasked, question.

"Well, this one was a bit darker than the one we were practising." He said casually as he monitored Nott's reaction out of the corner of his eye.

He watched as Theo's eyebrows twitched in surprise and his magic rippled. Harry sped up again and Nott quickly matched his pace, even though they both knew he couldn't keep it up for long.

"How Dark?" He asked with interest barely hidden.

"The cuts can't be healed with any old healing spell, it needs a specific counter-chant." He answered with a steady voice.

That time Nott couldn't stop his eyebrows jumping up his forehead. Nor how his aura almost swayed towards him, reaching out, making an echo of the oath they had sworn tingle up his wand arm.

"A chant?" Nott whistled. "Have you cleared you wand in case someone checks?"

Nott's question triggered a memory of Tom's that he was quick to push away once he had the relevant information. "Priori incantartem." He muttered to himself.

He flicked his wand out and proceeded to fire spells into the ground in front of them. Harmless spells. Colour changes that left patches of purple grass in their wake, assorted low-level hexes and jinxes he had learnt from their Defense text. Every third spell or so he threw in the only shield spell he could use as he felt in desperate need of the practise. By the time the two of them were heading back to the dorm, Harry thought he'd probably fired off at least forty spells, surely enough to disguise what exactly had happened the night before. Although he was a lot more tired than he had been when he woke up that morning.

"But Snape doesn't know which spell you used?" Nott made sure as they neared the end to their run.

Harry shook his head. "But I did admit to trying to kill it." He probably shouldn't have done that, intent was important, doubly so when it came to wizards.

"It was only a Troll. I'm sure you'll be fine." But Harry could see the sliver of worry hovering in Theo's eyebrows and the way his magic swirled uneasily.

Zabini was waking up when they walked back into their room, reaching for their school robes so they could jump into the shower. Harry made sure he was inside the stall by the time the other boy joined them in the bathroom. Nott may have seen his scars but he still didn't want any one else staring at them. Theo, at least, had seemed to understand.

He finished his shower first and quickly towelled off and threw his uniform on. Standing in front of the mirror, wand in hand, he cast the teeth cleaning spell and another to brush and flatten his hair. He thought the hair one worked about fifty percent, which was still a better result than any hairbrush he'd ever used. It was the best he could do until he found a stronger spell to deal with his unruly hair.

Theo and Zabini joined him at the mirror before he was done so he waited for the other two boys. The three of them made their way down to the common room and only waited ten minutes for Greengrass before going to the Great Hall for breakfast. Neither spoke about the incident the night before but Harry could tell they both wanted to ask what exactly happened. Instead Zabini reminded him about the notes he now owed the other boy, all the while lamenting all the effort he'd supposedly had to use to distract Malfoy. They'd just have to find a prefect that would use the Gemino curse for them, (a Ravenclaw would be their best bet, as they probably wouldn't think to ask for something in return). By the time the four of them were making their way to their first class of the day, Harry had decided to give the pair of them the bare bones of what had happened the night before and watch what they did with that information.

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There were extra eyes on him. By the time dinner came round everyone had heard some version of events of the night before. He'd heard three separate versions in which he defeated the troll quite heroically, shielding Granger with his own body. He'd also heard that he had broken his arm, three ribs and was only walking around because of the wonders of Professor Snape and Madam Pomphrey, the school nurse. There was also one story about how he had let the troll in for some kind of dark ritual and had lost control of the beast.

At first he'd wondered at the gullibility of the people surrounding him, until it occurred to him that all those things were strictly (probably) possible, if unlikely. Magic skewed reality and therefore the expectations of reality. Still, he didn't think any other first year would have been accused of such things. It was because he was the Boy-Who-Lived with all the 'mythical' power that came with it. At least he didn't come across as an incompetent moron not a coward in any of the tales.

He also wasn't sure that killing the Troll had been completely brushed off either. Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster's eyes seemed to drift to him more often than they had at previous meals. Professor Snape was watching him as well, if slightly more subtly. Worse of all was Cassius Warrington, who was very obviously sizing him up with every glance. He didn't know what was going on in the older boy's head and it was beginning to make him feel twitchy.

That all meant he was quite pleased to quickly eat his fill and follow Theo to the library before curfew.

Nott had carried on as normal when they woke up that morning and Harry was glad for it. When he had offered his pledge of allegiance, two of Tom's memories had fired almost simultaneously. One, the memory of Riddle accepting the same pledge from his own yearmates, looking to be in his third or fourth year. The other an older Riddle, now known as Voldemort, marking his first Death Eaters. He had known the two events differed greatly in terms of power and consequences, but still the fact that they had been linked in Voldemort's mind had made him hesitate if only for a millisecond. But students, mostly Slytherins from what he understood, pledged alliance for the remainder of their school years all the time. And he couldn't turn it down without seriously snubbing Nott, which he certainly didn't want to do to his only solid ally.

So he had accepted. Promised, basically, to protect him against others, as Theo had promised to have his back in turn. And not a promise like Muggles made, words of wind and little else. They were wizard's words, powerful and binding. Theodore Nott would truly have his back. There was no two ways about it.

They settled their things on one of the tables that they usually used. It was close to the arithmancy section so only third years and above ever came anywhere near them. Most of them had better things to do than so much as glance at two firsties, so they were mostly left alone. Occasionally someone would sit nearby to gawk at him a bit, which they ignored as best they could.

The library was nearly empty, only filled with Ravenclaws looking for specific books and the occasional other student looking for a quite place to do their homework. They sat down next to each other, bringing out the arithmancy books they had already borrowed and began whispering over what they had already learned.

Harry wasn't surprised that they were interrupted but he was a bit surprised by who it was that did it. Neville Longbottom hovered in his peripherals for a few moments before he summoned up the courage to approach them.

"H...h...hi. I, erm, Do you mind if I join you?" He asked, rushing through his words.

Harry inclined his head, gesturing at the chair across from them. Longbottom sunk into to it, looking around the library as if he expected someone to jump out and attack him. Which Harry thought wasn't completely unlikely. Although he also knew that the library was marginally safer as no one wanted to piss off the fierce older witch, Madam Pince, who ran the library.

"Longbottom." He greeted.

Theo nodded to the other boy as well but went back to his work for all that Harry was sure he was listening intently. It was the Slytherin thing to do and Longbottom had seemed more at ease when Nott had ignored him in the Infirmary.

"P...Potter, Nott. I...erm, I've heard what everyone's saying and I, I thought I'd come see how you were? You know, like you did for me." He eventually spat out after Harry let the silence sit between them.

"I'm very well, thank-you, Longbottom." He said after considering his options.

He would be polite and courteous but not overly friendly. He wasn't really sure how to act 'friendly' anyway, although the Longbottom heir, being as un-socialized as he appeared, was probably a good test subject to try it on as he probably wouldn't notice if Harry got it marginally wrong and was kind-hearted enough to forgive any accidental faux par. Theo would probably have the best idea if he had pulled it off or not. He'd told Harry about all the fancy parties and gathering his father had brought him to over the years and the many hours he had been forced into idle chatter with other 'important heirs'.

"Hermione, erm...She's trying to set some of the others straight. The ones who have been spreading the stories about you letting the troll in and stuff." He looked shocked that anyone could think such a thing.

Harry used all his hard earned skills not to flinch at the phantom sensation of the warm blood splattering across his skin the moment Longbottom mentioned the troll. He could see the beast again in his mind's eye, lurching towards him as it's head hung grotesquely from it's torso. He wondered if that was a usual response to killing. He had never killed anything before after all and didn't want to hunt through his memories for Riddle's first kill to compare.

"I have no idea how someone our age could have controlled the troll well enough to get it here. I barely kept it from killing both Granger and myself." He told him, mostly to keep the conversation going.

He had an inkling that Longbottom was here for something other that just check on his health. Not that the boy didn't care if Harry was injured. The Longbottom heir would probably be distressed if anyone was injured, he had a sort of compassionate air about him. It was just that Harry didn't think that in itself would be enough for the boy to summon the courage to initiate conversation.

Unfortunately, that was when the second interruption came marching up to them. Quite literally.

Granger practically threw herself into the chair beside Longbottom, letting out a loud huff before leaning over the table. Nott had looked up at her arrival and was visibly taken aback by her demeanour. Longbottom, upon seeing it was her, had sunk into his chair and himself, seeming to be trying not to cringe as she flopped down next to him. Harry tilted his head.

"Some people are being absolutely ridiculous!" She spoke in a harsh voice that was only just a whisper, drawing the librarian's eye. "As if a first year could smuggle a troll into Hogwarts. It must have been have been one of the sixth or seventh years. Someone's idea of a joke that got out of hand."

She huffed again, riffling through her bag and pulling out a few books, parchment and quills.

The three of them watched her do it not really knowing what to say to that. She was being almost unbearably rude but also, sort of, supporting him. He assumed she thought because he had 'saved her', he wouldn't mind her being around. Side-eyeing the other Slytherin let him know that the boy was just as clueless as Harry in what they should do. Longbottom had gone a bit pale, his eyes a bit wider and he was gapping like fish.

Harry turned once again to Granger. She'd already gotten out a large tome and was holding it in front of her face as she read it. She was also sort of still. Stiller than was natural... She was waiting. Waiting for them to tell her to go away. She was incredibly abrasive and he'd noticed that she didn't seem to have any friends. She must know that about herself. People were probably mean to her all the time.

The other two had turned to him and it occurred to Harry that they were all waiting on his decision on whether to ask Granger to leave or not. He blinked once, the only indication of shock that he couldn't keep off his face. It was up to him? Why?

So the question was, did he want to make a connection with Granger?

She was a girl, a Gryffindor and a muggleborn, which was sure to make complications within in own house. But she was definitely on the powerful end of the spectrum in comparison to their classmates and she was clever. Really clever from what he had seen, but she lacked knowledge on what was expected of her here. The rules were different than the Muggles world and either she hadn't noticed, or had and hadn't tried to assimilate like Harry was trying to do.

They hadn't had the best first meeting, what with her being all bossy and they way she'd tilted her head just so in a way so very reminiscent of Petunia. But she had just sort of come to his defence. And she seemed to have done it because of his actions the night before and not because he was the-boy-who-lived, which was something. He supposed he would have to talk to her to find out if she was worth his time.

"What are you reading?" He asked, slouching in his chair slightly more to feign disinterest while focusing intently on her with his eyes.

"It's called Alchemy; Ancient Art and Science. I picked it up for a bit of light reading and it's ever so interesting. It's such a shame it's not taught here." She answered, her voice taking on a sort of lecturing edge but she was clearly pleased he had asked.

"It used to be. Open to sixth and seventh years with O's in their Transfiguration, Charms and Potions OWL's. Dumbledore took it off the syllabus in the fifties, not long after he became Headmaster." Theo informed her, his voice almost bored but there was something in his face that said he was... maybe testing the Gryffindor?

Dumbledore was very obviously disliked in the Slytherin common room but not exactly openly. The only person he'd heard complain to anyone that would hear about the Headmaster was Malfoy. Everyone else made hushed, snide comments and sneered their obvious distain while pointedly saying nothing.

"Really?" She seemed shocked and her face became puzzled. "I wonder why? From what I've been able to gather Alchemy is about shifting things on an atomic level so as to permanently transform base metals and possibly other elements. That seems a natural thing to follow on from Transfiguration, once you have the principles down, of course. And apart from the Headmaster, I can't find a single British-born Alchemist in the last hundred years. Everyone in this book either came from Europe or died almost a century ago."

"Dumbledore's taken a lot of courses off the curriculum since he became Headmaster," Theo continued. "Usually stating that those subjects were much better suited to Wizards passed school age. Which of course leaves our post-graduates looking for a good apprenticeship at a disadvantage unless they can afford tutors during the summers. The subject still taught at other schools abroad of course."

"Gran always says Hogwarts has gone down hill since she went here." Longbottom added, hesitant and self-conscious, sinking into himself further as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Theo made an obvious effort to make eye contact with Longbottom and gave him a nod that made Longbottom try a tentative smile. His cheeks bloomed red aswell. Harry got the feeling that he didn't get a lot of praise. He remembered a time when he had felt himself light up when someone, anyone had smiled at him, or nodded, or looked at him without scorn. But he'd learned how that left you vulnerable, left you open to manipulation. Petunia could be a devious cow when she felt bored and spiteful.

"But, if that leave us at such a disadvantage when compared to other countries-" Granger began to ask but Nott interrupted.

"Enclaves." He corrected. "That's the proper term. There are plenty of enclaves whose muggle countries don't exist anymore."

"Like the P...P...Prussian Enclave." Longbottom paled as he stuttered.

It took Harry a moment to search his brain for a reason for the boy to shudder at the mere mention. He then recalled something he had read- no, that Tom had read, about the fall out of Prussia abolishing the muggle Monarchy in 1918, while the magical members of the Royal family had managed to keep their grip on the enclave, refusing to cede their land. That hadn't been pretty in the slightest, mostly due to their widely known Fae ancestry. There was supposedly a recent influx of fae blood as well. Recent as in the current King's father had somehow survived procreating with a Nixie, not once but at least three times and survived. Yeah, that was worth shuddering about.

"...suddenly call themselves German, nor cede so much land to the Denmark or Russian enclaves. Why should they?" Theo was saying as Harry tuned back into the ongoing conversation.

Granger was wide eyed, eagerly taking in everything he was saying and her fingers twitched as if she was forcing herself not to take notes. She glanced to Longbottom, maybe for confirmation, but he was nodding along as if he'd heard this all before. He probably had. He was the Pureblood heir to an Ancient and Noble House after all, he'd probably had tutors just like Nott and Malfoy and everyone else in his House.

"I suppose you are right. I'd just never thought about it like that. I wish there was a more thorough introduction to these sort of things." Granger frowned, getting visibly ruffled at the perceived injustice. "Professor McGonagall didn't really mention other co- Enclaves at all, she just talked about Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, some basic things about how magic works and how the Ministry tracks magic use, so they'd know if I tried practising at home."

Theo's lips twitched, momentarily smirking, before he replied. "That only works in Muggle areas, you know. If they see magic being used at a Wizarding residence then they just assume it was an adult. They can't tell the difference."

"That is completely unfair!" She exclaimed, clearly having trouble keeping her voice down and incurring the wrath of Madam Pince, who shhh'd them.

But before she could continue what Harry was sensing to be a tirade, the third interruption of the afternoon arrived. This one was much less welcome than the first two. Malfoy had his beady little eyes focused on their table as he approached, bookended by each of his junior henchmen.

"How pleasant it is to see you, Malfoy," His voice obviously forcibly sunny as he took the conversational initiative, "in the library." he enunciated, which of course went right over the other boys head.

"What are you two doing, sitting with a squib, and a mudblood!" The blonde-haired prick spat, turning his nose in the air in a way that made him look like a extremely thin version of Dudley.

Longbottom had lost any confidence he had gained through their somewhat short conversation and had sunk into him self, while Granger puffed up even more than she already had. The definitions of Malfoy's slurs bounced around his head, echoing back at him with clear hatred not his own and he forced his spine, his arms, his hands to remain still, relaxed. Instead he scrunched up his toes under the table and hidden from view, feeling the tightness of his shoes. He would not react to Malfoy's words any more than he normally would to Petunia telling him what a whore his mother was, what a useless, lay-about, drunk his father had been, how much better of everyone would be if he had died along with them.

"I think who I associate with is really none of your business. I also think this is a conversation ill suited to our current local." He sounded calm, almost uninterested to his own ears.

He then made a show of looking around as he drawled. The very first rule of Slytherin was that disputes happened in the common room, in private. No where else. Definitely not where bloody everyone could see. After having been a Slytherin for all of two months he understood and ever respected the rules. They weren't expected to 'get along' or any other such rubbish he'd had to listen to in Primary School. Instead they had a code of conduct that was both reasonable and brief.

But not only was Malfoy stupid, he was convinced that rules didn't apply to him. His father was 'on the school board' and he 'was talking privately with Minister Fudge just the other day' and 'did they knew he was a very close friend of Professor Snape when they had been in school'. It was obnoxious. And, well, Harry didn't know that he was wrong. Dudley had never met a rule he hadn't broken and blamed the consequence on Harry and as far as he could see Malfoy hadn't been punished for how he bullied the other students. Only his 'life threatening antics' during their first flying lesson.

"It is my business if you're going to go around sullying Slytherin House." His snooty nose was in the air again and his voice was getting louder.

If it all kicked off in the Library, not only was he risking his and Nott's access to said library, but it would definitely not be handled in-house. His earlier glance around had allowed him to note Madam Pince eyeing the group from the desk. Odds were, based on past experience, he would be the one who would get in trouble, not Malfoy and his goons. Maybe Nott and maybe, possibly, the Gryffindors too depending who got called to handle it.

With that thought, Harry slowly stood, noting his opponents' every move but making sure to keep eye contact with the Malfoy Heir. He felt Theo rising at his back but luckily he seemed to have taken Harry's clue to do so slowly and non-threateningly as possible while still appearing casual to an observer.

"This seems like a conversation for our common room." He didn't leave it up for debate, side-stepping Malfoy without taking his eyes off him and making a move towards the exit. "Longbottom, watch our stuff will you. We'll be back for it in a bit."

He was lucky that Malfoy seemed to think this a grand idea, a smug look lighting up his beady eyes as he nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, motioning for them to follow him. Or on second thought, maybe he was not lucky at all? Once Malfoy and his goons had taken the lead, Harry risked a glace to Nott. He was nervous, his magic churning and hovering around his shoulders like he was ready to cast at moments notice.

"Warrington and his cronies are going to be waiting for us, aren't they?" He whispered, his voice only just above a breath as he leant into Nott's ear.

Nott nodded and his aura gave an agitated ripple. Harry briefly wondered if that was a sign of fear or whether Theo was drowning that in anger. Harry was trying instead to reach for that smooth calm place. He wanted his body to become strong and relaxed, his magic to be fluid and viper-quick and he wanted his mind to follow. His arms and legs and maybe even his magic might still ache from the night before and the practise he had done that morning, that looking back he probably shouldn't have, he was going to give whatever happened next his all.

"Malfoy's not stupid enough to so obviously implicate himself in our murder." He whispered calmly, once he was sure he could.

Nott gave him a look that clearly said 'what on earth are you talking about!?' Harry gave Theo a confident smirk and a little shrug.

"It means, whatever happens, we're going to live. That's always a good thing."

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What looked to be the entirety of their house was waiting for them when they reach the common room, a few whispered conversations falling silent the minute the entranceway scrapped across the floor. Warrington was centre stage, stationed in front of the stairs that lead to the dorms. The few sixth and seventh years that always hung around with the Prefect were positioned in a loose circle, keeping everyone else from getting any closer to the middle of the room.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had slipped away into the crowd, sure to be elbowing their way to a good view, leaving Harry and Nott standing side by side as they assess the situation.

"Warrington," He greeted the seventh year with a slight nod, glancing around to take in anything he could use. "Your errand boy drew rather alot of attention to himself."

The Slytherin common room was a fancy sort of place, the kind of place with floral displays in crystal vases and finger food popping into existence on silver platters to go with the chandeliers and the elegantly twisted silver candle holders. In other words, plenty of things he might summon to himself and throw at his enemies. That would surely aid the vague plan he was building in his head.

There was no way he could out-duel Warrington, who's magic really looked no different to the professors, on his own and if his friends joined him, he wouldn't stand even a fraction of a chance no matter what he did. So, chaos, lots of it and hope he managed to duck back out of the common room without looking too weak. If he came across as too easy a target everyone would start jumping him. He had enough trouble avoiding the stray hex aimed at him by the few Gryffindors who listened to closely to Weasley.

But the seventh year seemed like he wanted to talk, at least for now.

"Potter, Nott." His upper-class accent was stiff but cordial. "Thank you for joining me."

"If you wanted to talk, you didn't have to send Malfoy to pick a fight with me for all to see." He quickly retorted, aiming to throw Malfoy under the bus and distract from himself as much as he could. "You could've just sent a note."

Warrington's eyes narrowed and drifted over the crowd, probably looking for the blonde-haired menace. Oh, that was definitely a point scored for team Harry. Honestly the Malfoy heir had been making himself look kind of stupid since the beginning of term. Not only was he a whiny braggart, but his obsession with following Harry around to mock him while taking pot-shots until he turned around and squished him, was starting to become laughable.

But Warrington didn't spare Malfoy thought for long, turning back to focus his attention once more on Harry and Theo. "I heard you've got some ideas about muggleborn rights you're eager to talk about."

Harry allowed his eyebrows to telegraph his surprise. He allowed himself to look to Nott, who met his gaze with a shrug.

"Well, that's a bold faced lie." He denied before adding, because he was kind of a little shit, "I'm really not stupid enough to go about spouting my views to anyone who might hear me."

Which was of course, another dig at Malfoy and everyone knew it.

"So you have views then, do you?" Warrington crooned and Harry was beginning to sense the trap that was being laid down.

"I am eleven." He found himself answering, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "I have begun to develop my own idea of right and wrong."

Nott's magic spiked and whirled agitatedly at his shoulder, obviously feeling the anticipation rise in those watching on.

"So you think the right thing to do is ride like a Gryffindor to the rescue for a mudblood?" The sneer Warrington had long been holding back stretched across his face.

"I did not go after the Troll, it went after me. I defended myself." He declared, his voice firm. "It was simple self-preservation."

He had not mentioned distracting the Troll away from Granger to anyone but Theo. When Zabini and Greengrass had asked for the truth of the matter, he had said he had unknowingly walked into the middle of the Troll going after Granger and more-or-less got caught up in it all. So, wherever Warrington was getting his information from, it hadn't been from Harry. It was a little bit of a relief. He had found himself kind of enjoying Zabini and Greengrass' company.

"And not a show of grandiose bravery?"

"Most certainly not."

"And I suppose you weren't just in the library with Granger and Longbottom?" He smirked.

Harry again risked sharing a quick look with Theo. He was beginning to wonder how long he could keep talking without being drawn into the duel everyone was waiting for and his friend couldn't say anything without making it look like Harry couldn't handle himself. Not unless one of Warrington's cronies opened their mouth first. All he could do was stand at his side, trying to control his twitchiness and wait for it to kick off. He was probably reciting spells in his head; planning just as Harry was.

"I don't think my schemes nor who I acquaint myself with is really anyone's business but my own."

He hoped the idea that he might be using Granger and Longbottom for something might encourage the others to back off. But they were looking for him to say something they could use as an excuse. He knew he was only putting of the inevitable.

"Are you sure that's what you're doing?" Warrington's smirk twitched wider. "Are you sure you're not looking for someone to sully your lineage with? Like father, like son as they say."

The prefect had just called his mother dirty. Harry knew he had, knew that if he said nothing it would be open season on his mother. Lily Potter, the woman who had given her life to save his. The woman who had refused to step aside and let the Dark Lord kill him. Maybe the last person to ever love him, whatever that meant. He'd never know her, and would probably find it hard to summon the emotion he knew he really should feel for her, but he had decided the night before that he would honour his parents as best he could. Letting Warrington and all the others spit on her memory, like he had been forced to listen to his relatives do his whole life, just would not do.

"I think you want to stop talking about my parents now."

It was what Warrington had been waiting for. A thread he could pull, hoping to unravel him. Harry might have been willing to fight, but he was in no way about to loose his head over a few words. Well, if it was happening; he was going to strike hard, strike fast, and above all, strike first.

"Looks like I struck a nerve." Warrington smirked.

"Nah," Harry was quick to deny, casual as you please. "I'm just done pussy-footing around. You want a fight? Fine."

He didn't give Warrington a moment before he shot a langlock at his head to slow him down. A fifth year friend of the prefect was quick off the draw but Harry was quicker. Him he hit with the Full body-bind curse he had been practising all week curtesy of Vindictus Viridian's Curses and Counter-Curses. He didn't manage to get his shield up in time, leaving his body to stiffen beyond his control and topple over face first. By that point, Theo was shooting of his own spell, something spiky-feeling that sent another of Warrington's cronies flying.

Then spells finally came flying towards them. His brain identified them quickly as a boils hex, a bone-breaker and a stupefy. He managed to shove Theo out of the way of the bone-breaker, ended up taking the hex up one side of his ribs and ducked out of the path of the stupefy. He retaliated with a string of curses he wasn't sure if he would be able to name if asked later. He barely managed to keep in mind the fact that these enemies were humans, children even, and that killing them was not his goal. Spells too complex or too powerful kept coming to the forefront of his mind, even as he knew he wouldn't be able to complete them. He was eleven, no matter what his brain might think in the moment.

He was slowing, quicker than he might have if he hadn't battled a troll the night before. He was jumping back and forth, weaving about instead of firing back. His limbs were getting heavier and it was getting harder to make sure nothing too awful hit the other boy at his side. His only consolation was that Warrington was bloody and bruised, even if he was easily holding his own.

Harry, no matter that he knew he was losing, felt a sense of accomplishment. He was putting on a good showing even as he felt his magical exhaustion mounting. He could taste blood in his mouth and feel how his lips were stretched into a grin. Then he heard the snap of bone and felt Theo stumble at his side. The seventh year looked smug and Harry saw red begin to enter his vision. Suddenly, he hated Warrington more than he had ever hated anyone.

He wanted him to hurt.