Author's note: This one's the shortest chapter yet, unless you count the bonus scenes at the end. If all goes well, the next chapter should more than make up for it.

As always, thanks for reading, and special thanks to all who review. Whether by using the review feature or sending me a PM, let me know what you think. Positive or negative, every bit of feedback is appreciated.

-o-o-

Chapter 19

Plotting and keeping secrets

-o-o-

"Now that we've all had a month to settle in, let's address any concerns that may have cropped up." Headmaster Tofty looked at each of the heads of house, who sat with him at a small round table in his office. "Minerva, I'm afraid that the DMLE has yet to learn anything of your wayward student's disappearance. Except for that tragic situation, do you have anything to share?"

McGonagall frowned slightly. "That would be my main concern. Other than that, my new prefects all seem to be working out. Mister Longbottom has grown considerably, and in truth has been doing a better job than Mister Weasley. As for Miss Patil, she has been... adequate. I would prefer Miss Granger, but she has been resolute in her decision to turn in her badge."

"Why did Miss Granger give up her position?" Flitwick asked. "I was under the impression that she loved the responsibility, and took it very seriously."

"Perhaps too seriously." McGonagall shook her head. "Something about not seeing herself graduating if she remained a prefect. I told her that her schoolwork of course came first, and no one would be upset if she let her prefect duties slide every now and then. She insisted though, and I found myself replacing two prefects instead of one."

"Oh dear. Well, it may be for the best." Sprout pointed out. "None of us want to see Miss Granger burn herself out."

"What about your badgers Pomona?" Tofty prompted. "How is Miss Addams fitting in?"

Sprout pursed her lips in thought for a moment before answering. "I'm not entirely sure what to make of Miss Addams. She seems to be fitting in with her roommates, and the first years absolutely adore her."

"The first years, why? I had thought only the prefects bothered to help out the younger children, even in your house. Have things changed since my retirement?" Slughorn asked, curious about any information regarding Miss Addams.

"As near as I can tell she has taken, 'your house is your family,' very seriously. Miss Addams has been treating the first years as if they were her younger brothers and sisters." Sprout explained. "More often than not, they will ask her for help instead of a prefect or a professor, which leads me to why I'm uncertain about her. She's been advocating defending oneself with more... enthusiasm than is appropriate."

"Ah, I think I see where you're going with this." Slughorn held up his hand to interrupt. "I've had quite a few of my snakes wind up in the infirmary as of late, but they haven't been honest about what put them there. I wouldn't worry too much about it. There hasn't been any permanent harm, and I'm afraid my students have probably deserved it."

Frowning, Slughorn elaborated. "Severus was an absolutely brilliant student, and even surpassed me in some ways as a potion master, but I don't know what Albus was thinking allowing that man to teach, let alone become head of house. Quite frankly my house is a mess, and if a few of your badgers can beat some sense back into my students, then I have no problem looking the other way. I'm doing my best to straighten Slythein out, but it's an uphill battle."

"I don't like it, but I suppose I can't argue with the effect." Sprout reluctantly admitted. "Now that Miss Addams has been influencing her housemates, I've had almost no complaints of bullying. Apparently my Puffs aren't viewed as easy targets any more. We do need to put a stop to the infirmary visits though, I'll have to have another word with Miss Addams."

"I've had to crack down on bullying in Ravenclaw as well." Flitwick commented ruefully. "One of the downsides to being the house of scholars, is we tend to focus too well, and lose sight of what's happening around us. There was an incident on the first day, and since then I've had my prefects actively look out for signs of bullying. I've been keeping an eye out myself as well."

"I think everyone has been too complacent Filius." Tofty pointed out. "It's part of the reason why Griselda and I turned Hogwarts upside-down this year. It may take some time, but I'm confident we're on the right track now."

-o-o-

Owls filled the Great Hall, delivering mail as usual. Hedwig swooped down, and landed on Harry's shoulder. She held out her leg, and waited patiently.

Harry deftly removed the small note, and produced a live mouse from his robes. Hedwig barked enthusiastically, snagged the terrified rodent with her talons, and flew off to have her breakfast.

"You've been receiving a lot of notes lately. Anyone I know?" Wednesday asked with a raised brow and the slightest edge to her voice.

"Your dad actually." Harry handed her the short note, written in Gomez's handwriting, that merely said: 'Saturday morning. -Gringotts'

"Is there a problem?" She asked, her voice smoothing out to its usual monotone.

"I don't think so, but something has come up that I need to be there in person for." Harry shrugged, and stood up. "I might as well see if they'll let me go to the bank this weekend. If not then I'll just sneak out. I don't think it will take long."

As Harry left the Gryffindor table to talk with Professor McGonagall, Katie held up her hand with a questioning look on her face. "Um, am I the only one who thinks it's weird that Harry was carrying a live mouse in his pocket?"

"It's easier if you don't question weird things like that." Neville suggested. "Just let it go."

-o-o-

Lost in deep thought while staring into the depth of the Black Lake in the Slytherin common room, Draco nearly jumped when Theodore Nott sat next to him and spoke. "Thinking about what you're going to do to Potter? The half-blood has no right to head a pure family like the Blacks. If you'd like some help, I've got some ideas."

"Keep them to yourself. I'm done antagonizing Black." Draco said sharply, then he grabbed Theodore's collar, pulled him close, and whispered into his ear. "Did your father not tell you that Black is off limits? The Dark Lord has ordered that he be left alone."

Swatting Draco's hand away, Theodore whispered back angrily. "The Dark Lord ordered that Potter be left alone, for now. What I have in mind will make it easy to eliminate him at any time. The Dark Lord will reward me."

Pulling away from Draco, Theodore sneered. "The Malfoy influence has waned considerably thanks to your father's failures. Now, we Notts are taking our rightful place."

Draco's eyes widened, and he glanced at Theodore's left arm. "Have you..."

Theodore grinned sadistically. "Yes, and I already have my first real task. Dealing with Potter is just taking advantage of an opportunity."

As Theodore walked off, Draco wondered what, if anything, he should do with this information. His loyalty to the Dark Lord hadn't interfered with his interactions with Black until now. Then again, Nott was acting alone. The real question was if it would be considered betraying the Dark Lord, or obeying him if he warned Black.

"What can you tell me about Addams?" Another voice tore Draco out of his contemplation.

"By Salazar, what now?" Draco groused as he turned to see who it was this time.

"Addams, the new Hufflepuff." Millicent Bulstrode crossed her arms, and stared at Draco. "I've been partnering with her in divination, and I can't figure her out. My gut tells me that she's worth becoming friends with, but there's something off about her."

"And what makes you so sure I know anything?" He replied snidely.

Millicent glared at Draco for a moment before saying anything. "You've always made it your business to know everything there is to know about Potter... Black... whatever his name is, and she's his girlfriend. There's no way you don't know something, or are you just pissy because he keeps turning down your advances?"

"Thank you for that lovely image Bulstrode." Draco's face contorted in disgust. "Fine then, why should I tell you anything, what's in it for me?"

"Merlin you're an arse." Millicent swore as she walked around, and dropped onto a nearby chair. "Fine... I can get Parkinson to give up on you, but if I do, I want more than just information. I want a favor. I don't know what yet, but one at least as valuable as rescuing you from her affections."

Truth be told, Draco was only being difficult because it was one of the now rare occasions, where he could be petulant and not risk his life. This was a wonderful opportunity though, he'd been trying to drop Pansy since their disastrous 'date' during, or rather after, the yule ball almost two years ago.

"An unspecified favor?" Draco feigned reluctance, he knew Bulstrode was surprisingly fair, at least when dealing with other Slytherins. "Only if we can be reasonable about the value of said favor."

"Deal. Tell me about Addams, and I'll tell you everything you need to make sure Parkinson won't even come near you again."

-o-o-

"That firstie is so cute. If it wasn't for the pigtails she wears now, I'd swear she was trying to look just like you." Susan smiled in amusement as she caught up to Wednesday. "She tries so hard to be expressionless like you."

"I hadn't thought of it that way." Wednesday shrugged. "As for the pigtails, I used to wear my hair like that until recently. The braids help keep your hair out of the way while you're playing, and you can also hide weapons in them if they're done right."

Susan laughed. "Well, I don't think she'll be hiding anything dangerous in them."

"It's not likely, no." Wednesday agreed. "I don't think you can get the right kind of knife around here."

"Right... Well anyway, it's cute. I think the two little boys she's always with, have a crush on you as well."

Wednesday nodded. "I know, Tina is going to keep a leash on them and make sure they don't wind up looking too foolish."

Remembering Wednesday's 'toys,' Susan looked a little worried. "You mean that metaphorically right?"

Raising an eyebrow at that thought, Wednesday put Susan's mind at ease. "Of course. They're a little young for that kind of playtime."

Relieved, Susan walked in silence with Wednesday on their way to dinner. It was slow going, but she was beginning to come to terms with what Wednesday considered normal in a relationship. She wasn't about to let her corrupt the firsties like that though, so she was glad it wasn't what it sounded like.

"Another dinner with Slughorn?" Susan asked, noticing that Wednesday was heading toward the dungeons instead of the Great Hall.

"Yes. He's a disgusting opportunist, who is hoping to ingratiate himself to anyone he thinks will have wealth, fame, or power." Wednesday commented casually. "He reminds me of our old family lawyer. I have some fond memories of Mister Alford."

"Your lawyer? What happened to him?" Susan couldn't help but ask, despite not being sure she actually wanted the answer.

"He died." Wednesday said simply. "My brother and I buried him in the family cemetery ourselves."

"Oh, sorry." Susan bit her lip, and looked away slightly.

"It's fine." Wednesday said as she continued walking. "He wasn't a very good lawyer, and burying him is one of the better memories."

-o-o-

The Slug Club was much smaller now that Professor Slughorn had gotten a feel for everyone's potential value. Those who were deemed unworthy had been culled, and ten students remained. In past years, the Slug club was usually even smaller, but it seemed that this was a generation filled with potential greatness.

Harry, Wednesday, and Hermione all sat together while the rest of the students slowly filtered in. Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass represented Slytherin, along with Flora and Hestia Carrow, seventh year twins. Cormac McLaggen was the only other Gryffindor. McLaggen was trying to impress the lone Ravenclaw, Nabijah Shafiq, but she showed no interest in the boastful lion. Finally, Melinda Bobbin was the last to arrive. Smiling, the seventh year Hufflepuff sat in the last remaining seat between Nabijah and Professor Slughorn.

The dynamic of Slughorn's dinners had changed as well. Now that the ambitious professor felt confident that he had only the best, brightest, or most connected students, Slughorn concentrated on securing each one's loyalties.

Dinner consisted of fine food, accompanied by conversation meant to bring everyone closer together. Before anyone realized how much time had passed, the food disappeared, and dessert took it's place on the table. Professor Slughorn smiled jovially as he got up and walked to his sideboard.

"Sometimes the best special occasion, is the one that isn't special for any particular reason." The professor chuckled as he brought out a large bottle of mead. "I recently acquired this excellent aged mead, and I thought: what better way to enjoy it, than to share it with Hogwarts' finest? Now I know a couple of you aren't of age yet, but just this once, we'll look the other way."

With an exaggerated wink, he sent the bottle around the table with a graceful wand motion. Each student's goblet was filled halfway with the sweet honey wine, until the bottle emptied itself into Slughorn's goblet, filling it to the brim.

Wednesday raised an eyebrow, as she breathed in the aroma of the mead. "I was under the impression that manticore venom was an acquired taste."

"Don't be ridiculous my dear." The professor gave a small laugh. "It's only mead, wine made from honey."

Nabijah frowned, and waved her wand over her goblet just in case. Glowing a sickly green, the mead was clearly deadly.

"Merlin... Quickly, did anyone drink any?" Slughorn asked immediately. Sighing in relief when he was sure that no one had been poisoned, he quickly vanished everyone's mead, goblets and all. He put his own goblet under a stasis spell, and set it and the bottle to the side to deal with later.

"Well done Misses Addams and Shafiq. Insufficient as it may be, thirty points to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for saving us all from a most gruesome fate." Slughorn wiped his brow with a silk handkerchief. "Given the circumstances, I think we should call it a night. I'll be looking in to how this tragedy nearly happened.

Falling heavily into his chair, the potions master tried to remember where he had gotten that particular bottle. He was disturbed to realize that the memory of actually receiving the poisoned mead, was hazy and indistinct.

-o-o-

On their way through the halls, Wednesday frowned. "All I meant was that I was surprised he managed to find such a rare treat. Manticore venom isn't exactly easy to come by."

"It's a shame he got rid of it before we could try some." Harry agreed with Wednesday's sentiment, mourning the lost opportunity.

"Wednesday probably already has." Hermione commented as they walked. "She did recognize it by scent alone."

"She's right." Wednesday said with the barest hint of a taunting smirk. "I found the key to Mother's rare poison collection when I was nine. The drop I tasted nearly ate a hole through my tongue."

"Did she ever find out?" Harry asked while softly laughing.

Wednesday nodded. "Mother caught me before I could pour a few drops into Pugley's eyes, and she scolded us for being wasteful. She wouldn't let me add anything to my food, not even arsenic, for months in punishment. I never did find where she moved her collection..."

-o-o-

"Look, I came here for a job because I thought Albus was still headmaster." Slughorn was sweating nervously as he talked with Headmaster Tofty in the older wizard's office. "You managed to convince me that even without Albus, Hogwarts would be safe for me."

Tofty picked up the empty Mead bottle that had been forcefully set on his desk. "Are you certain this was an attempt on your life?"

"By the founders, it was laced with Manticore venom!" Slughorn stressed, surprised that Tofty could see any other possibility. "Instantly lethal if you get stung, and ingesting the stuff is even worse. To top it off, someone has memory charmed me. I can't clearly remember purchasing that bottle."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tofty sighed loudly. "I know, I was just hoping... Merlin, I wanted to make the school a better place for the students... Horace, you weren't clear when I interviewed you. Why are you concerned for your safety? Why do those terrorists want you dead?"

"My skills as a potion master of course." He answered a little too quickly. "They tried to recruit me, and I said no, one too many times. I imagine since they can't have my skill, they want to make sure that no one can."

Professor Solomon Tofty was a very old man. Well into his second century of life, he had picked up a great number of skills throughout the years. One such skill was that he took the time to notice little things. Little things often add up to something very big, and everything he was noticing about Horace Slughorn, pointed to the idea that he was hiding a very big thing.

"Horace, There may not be an abundance of potion masters here in Britain, but across the channel there are scores of them. I know for a fact that Europe's finest resides in Portugal, we owl each other now and again to keep in touch." Tofty narrowed his eyes as he stared into Slughorn's. "Why are they really after you?"

"I don't know what..."

"Damn it Horace!" Tofty stood, enraged. "Ten students nearly died! Ten of the best and brightest were almost reduced to collateral damage because Death Eaters want you dead. Tell me the truth, or I will send you packing. Even if that means I'm sentencing you to a terrible fate, to protect these children I'll do so with a clear conscience."

Slughorn wrung his hands and looked away. "I... I know things. Please don't make me elaborate."

"You have information that he-who-must-not-be-named doesn't want known?" Tofty nearly whispered the rhetorical question. "Horace, he already wants you dead now. Why in the name of magic haven't you gone to the DMLE?"

"I don't have to explain myself..." Slughorn glanced back at Tofty, and saw iron in the headmaster's icy gaze. He could almost feel the power that the old wizard was holding back with his strained temper. He was reminded that, while not as powerful as he-who-must-not-be-named or the legendary Albus Dumbledore, Solomon Tofty was no frail old man. Living past one hundred was no great feat for a wizard, but only the most powerful did so with any kind of grace.

"No, you don't," Tofty's tone was flat and unfriendly. "But unless you do, I refuse to let you remain in Hogwarts for even one more night."

Stricken, Slughorn broke down. Crying as his shameful actions and cowardice had finally caught up to him, he haltingly told everything he knew about a young Tom Riddle.

-o-o-

Nearly tearing his hair out in frustration over the lack of progress with the war effort, Rufus Scimgeour was on edge when his secretary's voice informed him that Griselda Marchbanks was there to see him.

"Unless she can somehow help me win the war against these terrorists, send her away. I have no time for the Examination Authority." He barked in response. Subsequently, he was caught off guard when she walked into his office and sat down across from him.

"This is a message from Solomon. He believes, and I agree with him, that the information is vital for dealing with Tom Riddle." Marchbanks explained in a no-nonsense tone.

"Who the bloody hell is Tom Riddle, and why should I care about him?" Scrimgeour growled as he snatched the parchment.

"Read that, and find out." She said as she rose to leave, not disturbed by the minister's foul mood in the slightest. "Now that I have been reminded of him, I remember both his OWL and NEWT examinations clearly. An absolutely brilliant child, who wasted his potential."

-o-o-

The houses had long since grown used to Luna's seemingly random approach to mealtime sitting arrangements. Once again at the Slytherin table, Luna and Wednesday were chatting with Daphne over the merits of various runic alphabets, when Millicent sat down next to Daphne, and across from Wednesday.

"Don't let me interrupt you." Millicent said, noting that all three witches has quieted. "I just want to ask Black a question or two. I assume he'll be here soon, he always eats with you two."

"Actually, today he's at Gringotts. I don't know when he'll be back." Wednesday explained her boyfriend's absence.

"Gringotts? That's odd. Why?" Daphne asked.

"He wouldn't say." Wednesday's monotone was strained, and her eyes tightened slightly. "Only that something came up that required his presence."

Daphne frowned. "That's really odd. There's only a few things that he would need to be there in person to do... but I can't imagine that the goblins would even bother letting him know something needed his attention. They aren't exactly helpful creatures."

"My father has been in charge of Harry's account while we're in school. He sent Harry a note to meet him at Gringotts." Wednesday said in explanation.

Daphne and Millicent looked at each other, and even Luna frowned.

"What?" Wednesday demanded sharply, her eyes tightening further.

"Um, if Black gave your father custodial permission over his account, then there isn't anything that he would need to be there in person for." Millicent said carefully. "Your father can do everything for him."

"Then Harry had better have a good explanation when he gets back." Wednesday said between clenched teeth.

-o-o-

Albus Dumbledore transfigured the chair before him to be more comfortable, then sat down, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Why did you need to see me Pius? I've been keeping you apprised of the Order's movements."

"Yes, you have." Pius Thicknesse agreed. "Before we get down to it, I'd like to thank you again for delivering Lestrange to us. We haven't managed to get any useful information from that filth, but the interrogations have done wonders for morale around here. It's almost a shame that Azkaban will be secured in a few weeks, and we'll be saying goodbye to our guest. It is a definite shame that we can't rely on dementors anymore, but I'm sure the new guards will come up with ways to entertain the prisoners."

"Please spare me the details, and get to the point." Dumbledore grimaced slightly at the thought of what those interrogations entailed. He didn't even want to consider the meaning behind Thicknesse's last statement.

Minister Scrimgeour walked in, and shut the office door behind him. After a series of privacy and detection charms, he looked down at Dumbledore. "The point is, we have a task that your vigilante group may be useful for."

"If secrecy is important, may I?" Dumbledore raised his wand meaningfully before adding a few protections of his own.

"The secrecy is only because we fear the ministry has been infiltrated." Thicknesse explained. "You may tell your little order what they'll need to know."

"It is absolutely imperative that you-know-who does not find out that we have this information." Scrimgeour added, placing his palms on Thicknesse's desk, and staring at both men. "We now know how he escaped death, and what needs to be done to make sure he cannot do so again."

Tossing a few sketches onto his desk, Thicknesse picked up where the minister left off. "They're called horcruxes, the worst kind of dark magic. Our source tells us that he has six of these vile things. Each one contains a piece of his soul, and as long as one exists, he can never truly die."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock. "Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem, and Salazar Slytherin's Locket. What... How... Are you certain that the diadem is a horcrux? No one has any idea where it is."

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you recognize that locket. Our source had to explain its significance." Scrimgeour acknowledged. "They were certain that these were made into horcruxes by he-who-must-not-be-named, otherwise known as Tom..."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle..." Dumbledore interrupted, half talking to himself. "Who is your source? Are they absolutely sure?"

"We can't tell you that, and you should know better than to ask." Thicknesse admonished. "Unfortunately, our source doesn't know what the other three are, only that they too are likely priceless artifacts from the founders."

Lost in thought as he stared at the sketches, Dumbledore absentmindedly filled in the blanks. "A ring and a diary..."

"Pardon?" Scrimgeor growled as he leaned down to glare at Dumbledore. "Are you telling me you knew about these horcruxes, and what some were?"

"Only over the past few years have I been putting everything together. I haven't been certain though, it's all been guesswork." Dumbledore admitted, then sighed as he picked up the diadem sketch and continued. "I lost all of my research in an explosion, but with this new information, I may be able to continue. I hoped he had only made two, but I feared it was six. The diary has already been destroyed, but I lost my collected memories that were leading me to the ring. Perhaps your source might be able to help find it."

Dumbledore looked up from the sketch to see Thicknesse wide eyed, and Scrimgeour shaking with fury.

His face red with anger, Scrimgeor ground his teeth, and closed his eyes to compose himself, before speaking with a shaky but calm voice. "Years, you've known for years. I want very badly to lock you up with Lestrange right now. If you had shared your suspicions with myself or Madam Bones, this war may never have even started. We could have had the entire department of mysteries working alongside you to ensure Riddle never returned."

"You'll recall that no one believed me when I voiced my thoughts about Voldemort not truly being gone." Dumbledore pointed out calmly.

"We damn well would have if you bothered to let us know what a horcrux was!" Scrimgeour roared. "I don't care what I have to do to make it happen, but once this war is over, you are going to be put on trial over this. Now take those sketches, and get out! I want your merry band of followers to drop everything else, and get rid of those horcruxes whatever the cost.

After slamming the door behind Dumbledore, Scrimgeour dropped heavily into the chair across from Thicknesse. "Two... Two different wizards knew, or were pretty sure about what had really happened. If either one had just come to the DMLE... Even if they had just worked together... Damn them... Damn them both."

Thicknesse didn't say a word, he just set down a pair of glasses and a full bottle of Ogden's finest.

-o-o-

Author's note: I wrote the following bonus scenes as a tribute to the victims of the recent tragedy in Orlando. Both can be considered part of the main story, though I'm not sure exactly when they take place.

-o-o-

Bonus Scene

Almost perfect

-o-o-

It was early, and except for two men, no one else was awake. Rabastan had always been an early riser, and Asclepius had never gone to bed the night before.

"You know, I've always been a little jealous of my brother." Rabastan commented as he and Asclepius ate breakfast.

"Why's that?" The deeply scarred man asked, genuinely confused. "No offense to Rodolphus, but I don't see anything worth being jealous about there."

"Bellatrix. He really lucked out with his marriage." Rabastan stared wistfully at nothing as he went on. "She's almost perfect. Powerful, smart, beautiful, and she has a cruel streak that's almost unmatched."

nodding slowly, Asclepius set down his fork, and looked at his fellow Death Eater. "True, Mistress Bella is wonderful... I suppose I can see why you're jealous... The way you describe her though, where is she not perfect?"

Rabastan stared at his breakfast companion for a few moments, silently judging how he might respond. Shrugging, he simply said, "She's a woman."

Asclepius gave a sharp laugh and shook his head in amusement. "You're right, Mistress Bella isn't perfect. Still, we have fun playing together."

Startled by the laugh at first, Rabastan tried to figure out if the statement that followed meant what he hoped it might. He hadn't risen to the Dark Lord's inner circle by being timid; so he wet his suddenly dry lips, and decided to test the waters. "You're a lot like Bellatrix you know."

Taken aback, Asclepius looked back at Rabastan with wide eyes. "No I'm not. Mistress Bella has taught me quite a bit, but I'm still nowhere near as good as she is."

"Well, you'll get there I'm sure. Skill will come with time and practice. Your enthusiasm and drive though, that can't be taught." The older Death Eater pointed out. "You're as cruel as she is, and you're learning fast, which means you're smart. You also survived where many others wouldn't have, so you aren't weak by any measure."

Taking advantage of Asclepius' uncertain silence, Rabastan let his eyes wander across the younger man's form, and smirked. "Not to mention, you're better looking than Bellatrix ever was."

They sat, staring at each other in nervous silence, until Asclepius smiled slightly. "So, you fly for the other team then?"

Rabastan answered by tilting the other mans' face upward, and kissing him softly on the lips. "Does that answer your question?"

-o-o-

Bonus Scene

Experimentation

-o-o-

"What's wrong Leanne?" Katie asked her friend as they walked through the castle.

"Hmm? What, why do you think something's wrong?" Leanne asked after being shaken out of her musing.

"You've been zoning out a lot lately." Katie pointed out. "I've had to steer you around, or you would've walked into the wall three times now."

"Oh." The Hufflepuff blushed. "Um, well... Remember how I've been telling you stuff about Wednesday Addams?"

"Harry's girlfriend? Yeah. Why, do you think she's cute too?" Katie teased with a lopsided grin.

"No, no, definitely not. She's way too intense." Leanne denied emphatically. "But she did get me thinking about ropes and... stuff. Now I really want to, well, try it... sorta."

"Okay, so you're horny. That doesn't explain why you keep trying to walk through walls. Oh wait, I get it." Katie's smile widened as she pushed her friend playfully. "You're spending all your time thinking up fancy ways to tie up some poor boy."

Sighing, Leanne decided she may as well explain everything or Katie would start letting her imagination run wild. "No, well yes, but that's not really the big problem. All of the single guys I can think of are either not worth my time, or would probably be scared away by this sort of thing. I've gotten myself so worked up thinking about doing this stuff, and there's no one I can do it with."

Katie thought about it as they continued to slowly walk, now both lost in contemplation. After a minute or so she spoke up, this time with a more serious tone. "Well, I guess the real issue is you need someone you can trust. You wouldn't want them saying no, and then spreading it around that you like to get tied up. Besides, that stuff sounds like it could get out of control pretty easily."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Leanne agreed with another sigh. "How do I find someone I can trust like that?"

"How about we try things out then?" The older Gryffindor suggested.

Leanne looked sharply at her friend. "What? You mean with you? I don't know, that seems like a bad idea..."

"No, it's perfect for both of us." Katie disagreed, and starting ticking off reasons why on her fingers. "We're already good friends, so we can skip the getting to know you part of a relationship. You know I'll keep everything to myself no matter how things go. I'm clearly up for trying that sort of thing, or I wouldn't be suggesting this in the first place. We already hang out, so this will let me have my wild seventh year without taking up a ton of extra time. This is my last year here, so one way or another we won't see each other next year. If things work out, we can always keep in touch, but if things get too weird, well the real world beckons anyway."

"I don't know..." Leanne shook her head. "I mean, I know you joke around, but both of us are only into guys."

"If that's all you're worried about." Katie smirked as she glanced around, grabbed her friend's hand, and dragged her into a nearby broom closet. "Let's see if that's true."

Pulled completely off balance, Leanne hardly had any time to register what Katie had said before she felt a calloused hand gently cup her cheek. A pair of soft lips pressed themselves on hers, and Leanne gasped in surprise. Katie must have taken it as an invitation, because she felt the older girl's tongue slide past her lips to dance around her own.

As quickly as it started, the kiss ended, and Leanne realized that her heart was racing.

"I don't hear any complaints, does that mean we're still good?" Katie's voice whispered in the darkness.

"Can... can we try that again?" Leanne asked, both nervous and excited.

This time, Leanne felt her friends athletic body pressed up against her own as their lips met each other once more. The cold stone of the wall provided a stark contrast with the warmth of the other witch, making the contact feel even warmer and more inviting.

Almost of their own accord, Leanne's arms wrapped themselves around Katie. The chaser's lithe body offered no resistance as her hands began to explore.

All too soon, their lips separated, and Leanne whined softy, only moan as she felt kisses along her jawline. Her breathing deepened, and she shuddered when she felt Katie's tongue draw her earlobe into a playful bite.

When they separated, Leanne was breathing heavily, and she was surprised to feel an aching need. Absently, she hoped the dorm would be empty later, she really didn't want to explain why she needed to change her knickers.

"Well, Unless I'm reading the situation completely wrong, I'd say you'd be up for continuing somewhere a bit more private than a broom closet." Katie whispered into Leanne's ear, sending a shiver racing down her spine.

"Definitely." Leanne whispered back. "But where? I never figured that part out either."

"Tonight, sneak out, and meet me on the seventh floor by that tapestry with the dancing trolls. I learned about a really cool hidden room last year."

-o-o-

Author's note: I just hope I'm not being too subtle with some of the foreshadowing I do. I was a little more blunt in this chapter with some things, but only because no one commented on something I was sure would spark reviews a couple chapters back. Then again, since I know what everything I've written means, I can't really grasp what it looks like from your point of view.

To Dontblink reviewing chapter 18: The Addams family, for the most part, didn't interact with wizards until they met Harry. They knew about the magic world of course, but didn't particularly care about it. To answer your question, American wizards are no darker than British ones.

The muggles that the Addamses dealt with actually had somewhat of an advantage over wizards in handling the Addams madness. Humans have an amazing ability to be able to ignore that which we deem impossible. Most of the time, non-magic folk simply believe that the Addams family is eccentric. Wizards on the other hand have a much different definition of the impossible, and can see the Addamses for what they truly are.

To Heika reviewing chapter 18: I was under the impression that a psychopath was a type of sociopath, and I didn't think that either were necessarily genetic. I'm no expert on mental health though, so I certainly won't argue. Label Harry however you wish. I'll continue to write him as I have, regardless of what flavor crazy he should be filed under.

If there is a genetic variable that made Harry what he is, then it probably came from the Black side of the family. Neither Lily, nor James were twisted in my story.

To Gravin X reviewing chapter 18: I wasn't planning on having any animagi, but that isn't set in stone. You raise a good point though, technically Wednesday should be able to become an animagus.

To Guest reviewing chapter 7: As you've read by now in the chapter 8 author's notes, I realize that my concerns were unfounded.

You've done an excellent job of capturing the essence of my Dumbledore's rationale. He knows that he has done terrible things, but he feels justified in the face of what he believes could have been. In a sense, he feels that Harry as he is now, vindicates his actions.

To Spuffylover19 reviewing chapter 18: I'm glad you like the thestral patronus. If nothing else, I think it's a novel idea, especially how it can be invisible like a 'real' thestral.

I always enjoy reading reviews, encouraging reviewing is the main reason why I try to respond to each one.

To Guest reviewing chapter 18: Possessive Harry: amusing to watch, not so amusing to be threatened by.

From Wednesday's point of view, Hufflepuff is woefully filled with victims. She's doing her best to get rid of that behavior. After all, your house is your family.

Ron's fate turned out so much better than I thought it would, I'm glad I was convinced to write it out.

To Willow the Wisp reviewing chapter 18: Anything is possible, we'll see what happens.