The Prince-Who-Lived
Chapter Twenty-one
Nothing exciting happened in the time between Hagrid finally calming down and the week leading up to the Second Task. Alan was distracted once more while he and Harry sat together in the library. Rita hadn't made any articles other then her usual spitfire against the ministry, and Harry felt that Alan may have just been in a really foul mood that evening, and nothing really was wrong. He refused to speak at any length on the likelihood of Rita actually finding anything out about Amber, Alan's mother, and he also refused to discuss anything about the second task beyond saying that he had it in the bag.
Three days before the task, Harry stood from their discussions and stretched, hoping stretching his body would be able to do something for the tight feeling in his head that came after Alan had grilled him on proper behaviour and Slytherin turn-of-phrase. Since he'd mentioned that he felt he was rusty at the Yule Ball, Alan had taken to throwing snippets of previous conversations at Harry to see if he could get a rise out of him, or another reaction. Harry took them with grace and was expected to throw a similar barb back. He didn't always succeed. They had finished for the evening; Harry had missed three cues, and so Alan just shook his head and fell silent, but Harry had another question in mind, brought up from the back of his conscious by Neville almost a month ago now.
"Alan, have I ever inquired as to your boggart?"
Alan glanced up with a sharp look, and smiled faintly. "No, I brought it up myself, didn't I? Second year."
Harry paused, and then shook his head weakly. "Yeah, you did, didn't you?" Harry quickly gathered his books. Alan had figured out Harry's boggart without any help all those years ago. It wasn't something Harry felt comfortable with, and had been a lot happier having almost forgotten that Alan knew.
"Harry." Alan's voice stopped him before he could leave. "You're still scared." His tone made it sound disbelieving. "Is it really that frightening to you?"
Harry half-turned and gave Alan a dark look. "You just don't understand, Alan. You've never had someone hate something so bitterly in front of you. Slytherin, your father … James hates both of those, alright? And here I am, his son," Harry bit the word off and gave a bitter, choked laugh, "friend and conspirator with you and that house. I can't help being a parselmouth, but I shouldn't be friends with you if I could help it."
"That's why you never asked Daphne?" Alan idly inquired. "She's a Slytherin?"
"She's something my father would hate. I won't put her through that."
"I'm sure she'll be thrilled you let your fear get in the way." Alan finished coldly.
Harry bit back his frustration and shame and left without looking back.
IIII
Alan hadn't been pleased to wake up the morning of the twenty-fourth, but he did so anyways and arrived in plenty of time with the others, wearing his robe over a pair of long racing shorts, skin tight and covering most of his thighs. That water was still simply freezing. The announcement of what was to be taken still hadn't happened, but he had a sneaking suspicion when he caught sight of Velorian Mayfair and the vampire Koreol in the stands without Andrew. He was still fighting the conflict that brought up, most of which ended in humour.
Apparently Geoffrey didn't truly trust Dumbledore, but precisely what part of trapping the boy underwater could kill a vampire?
"The champions have gathered to begin their task, which will lead them on an underwater hunt for that which was taken from them, the person they will miss the most." Mr. Bagman loudly announced. Alan was glad they'd only used Andrew and not his godfather, who truly held that position in his heart. Geoffrey, however, wouldn't have let Dumbledore near the man with a ten-foot pole. "For Viktor Krum, Hermione Granger."
Alan twitched with the rest of the crowd and looked over at Viktor curiously.
"For Fleur Delacour, Gabrielle Delacour."
Alan nodded, presuming a sister. Makes sense; it was his brother taken. But …
"For Alan Prince, Andrew Mayfair."
Several of the looks he received made Alan sigh. Great. Rumours of infidelity abound.
"The champions will enter the water in a few moments, giving them that time to prepare. They have the time limit of one hour to regain what was taken. Champions …"
Alan quickly shed his robe and double-checked the spell on his hair. It was short, but long enough to get in his eyes if he wasn't careful, thus he'd spelled it back and flat. He moved quickly to the water's edge, and then glanced back at the judges and the other champions. They were spaced ten feet apart along the bank, both Fleur and Viktor dressed in bathing outfits of their own, Fleur's hair tied back in a braid. Mr. Bagman stood behind them smiling, and motioned to Mr. Templar.
"Three … two … one … Go!"
Alan took another long look at the water, and then confidently strode into it, his wand held firm in his right hand. He quickly and silently cast the bubblehead charm, and then, finally far enough out, he dove into the water, starting downwards several feet before he quickly cast Point Me, focusing on Andrew. The wand spun, and pointed farther and deeper down. Alan tucked it away in the slot on his shorts before he began to swim confidently down where it had pointed. The water was cold as ice and dark and grimy, with long weeds straining towards the light from the bottom. Alan kept above it, not wanting to face whatever could be within, swimming confidently but feeling the cold dragging at him. Annoyed, he paused, and pulled his wand, casting a quick warming charm.
A tug on his ankle dragged him rather abruptly down, and Alan started. A look, and the dark eyes of a grindylow stared up at him. Alan slashed his wand, the grindylow dropped back and then another rose beside it. A glance ahead proved him to be in the midst of a small group, and Alan swore to himself, before he cast three spells in succession. The grindylows ahead scattered from the scalding water, and Alan kicked forward quickly, tossing spells over his shoulder to keep them off his back. One grabbed at his shorts, and Alan twisted to quickly send an obscure spell it's way, leaving it with a great glob of ink covering it's head. Alan passed easily thereafter, as the others went to the inked one to try and clean it off.
Alan was grateful that the bubblehead charm spared him the water pressure on his ears, and continued deeper and deeper still. He tried not to think of what might happen were the Giant squid to arrive. While his wand was still out, Alan quickly cast Point Me and found himself off track. Correcting his aim and still swearing to himself, Alan pressed forward. The first hint of his imminent arrival was the beginnings of another song like the one he'd heard from the egg. He passed a large rock with a painting on it, and came to a small village, where faces peered eerie and solemn from behind the weedy curtains. Alan quickly passed the village with only short glances about; he wanted out of here, and fast.
The village square came into view, and Alan paused to assess the gathering. There were many merpeople gathered, most with spears and knives in hand, and others who were singing the haunting choir to draw the champions down. Alan felt a little miffed as they announced it was at half time. Moving forward, he approached the statue in the middle, of an unidentified merperson with three people tied to his tail. One had Hermione's bushy hair and the other was small, female and blonde. The last was Andrew, tied with his own pale hair ruffling in the current and looking restless even under the sleep spell. Then again, Andrew just didn't like being asleep period. He didn't really need to sleep, as a vampire, so such spells fought his nature. When he did sleep it was rather synonymous with 'dead' for the duration – of about four hours if you were lucky. But this wasn't it.
Alan swam over cautiously, keeping one eye on the merpeople, and the other on Andrew. When they did nothing against him, Alan turned his attention to Andrew's bonds, and pulled his wand to curse them off. They went, and Andrew sank weakly to the bottom. Alan half considered waking him; trying to swim with a literal dead body would not be pleasant as Andrew wasn't even mildly buouyant like normal people, but he swam really well when awake. Alan was spared the decision as he felt a strange spell flow past, and Andrew's eyes snapped wide open, inhaling as though to yell. Instead he choked when he inhaled water.
Alan grabbed his shoulder, wide-eyed. If it had been anyone but Andrew, waking him up would have been a death sentence. Someone was trying to sabotage this task, and more specifically, kill whoever was closest to Alan … the simple foil was the luck that Andrew was undead, nothing more. Although that yell was rather his fault …
Andrew grabbed his shoulder with a look of outrage on his face as he expansively indicated the surroundings. Alan relaxed and rolled his eyes – for the moment, it was over – and spoke behind the bubble; Andrew could just guesstimate what he was saying.
"Yes, we're still underwater, no, you shouldn't have woken up, and no I don't know why. How about swimming topside, brat?"
Andrew watched him carefully, took in the gesture that went generically upwards, and, with a mocking mouthing of random, likely uncouth words, he gestured for Alan to follow him as they swam back the way Alan had come, arching farther towards the surface of the lake than before, Andrew swimming in the lead as the stronger swimmer, completely unaffected by cold and the water he'd inhaled. Alan wondered how much that extra weight was dragging him down, but shelved the question for later. With his enhanced strength, it didn't really matter that much.
They were swimming up and towards the bank; slowly the water lightened as the surface neared, and then Andrew straightened and Alan surfaced shortly after he did. A glance around found them very near the bank, with none of the other champions in sight. Alan swiped at Andrew's head before swimming quickly towards the bank, not bothering to remove the bubblehead charm and leaving his 'hostage' behind. Andrew caught up fast enough, and they both got out, Alan fetching his wand, and Andrew quickly turning back over the water to hack up what all he had inhaled other than air.
As soon as he stopping coughing, Alan shifted and then kicked him off the bank and back into the water. Andrew fell with an undignified curse and a splash. Behind him, Alan heard someone mutter something that couldn't have been polite at all. A look proved him correct that it was Velorian, Andrew's father. He didn't have much time to grin as Andrew clambered back out and glared down at him.
"You're lucky I'm already dead; I almost inhaled more bloody water you idiot! Where's the fucktard that cast that stupid sleeping spell, anyways? Dumblefuck? I need to have a few words with him."
Dumbledore had the timing to step over then. Alan would have advised against it. He was now standing in between Andrew, Velorian and Koreol, all three of whom would be lighting into him the moment Andrew brought up his rather rude awakening at the bottom of the lake.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Mayfair? I'd thought you went to sleep fine."
"I slept fine, sir," Andrew snapped, "but I was not supposed to wake up the moment Alan cut me free, was I? Had I been human, I likely would have freakin' died! I think it's a damn good thing I was the only one they allowed you to use as Alan's hostage, and not someone else. Are you so incompetent that you can't keep one person safe? Gracious lord, that was stupid!"
Dumbledore's expression darkened, and Alan stood slowly next to Andrew, impressed in spite of himself at Dumbledore's strength of presence.
"Are you telling me someone tried to kill Alan's hostage?" He asked quietly.
Alan gently nodded, bringing attention to himself. "Perhaps whoever it is, is trying to make me regret my position? Or something." Alan shrugged negligently. "But if Andrew had not been a vampire, he would have been badly hurt if not dead. I could have easily gotten him a bubblehead charm, but he'd inhaled a lot of water right off the bat. Mind, that's his fault," Alan drawled playfully, "so I'm not sure about that one."
"If that mediwitch didn't look like she was about to jump both of us, I'd shove you back into the water, Alan." Andrew threatened. He burst into a grin. "Instead, I think I'll just drag you over to her. Sirs, I'll leave you to it."
Andrew nodded to Dumbledore, his father, and mentor each in turn, and then took the arm he'd grabbed of Alan's and dragged him over to Madam Pomfrey, who descended on both of them with blankets and a vengeance. She even insisted that Andrew drink a warm potion and wrap in a blanket, same as Alan, despite his reassurances that he was dead and didn't really need such creature comforts. Alan accepted the care gratefully, and sat back to wait. He'd no sooner started to sit than the stands erupted into noise once more. A glance across the lake showed him a rather frightening sight of a shark's head next to Hermione's thick brown hair. Shortly, the shark's head shimmered and changed to Viktor's Krum's sharp face, and he and Hermione swam back over to the shore, where Madam Pomfrey set upon them ferociously, forcing potions and blankets on them as well, and hustling them over to the seats where Alan and Andrew already were. Andrew immediately stood and offered his spot, three away from Alan, to her, and then sat down right next to Alan, keeping an appreciative eye on Hermione until Viktor gave him a firm glare. Andrew turned a hurt look back to Alan who rolled his eyes and stared across the water once more. Fleur was taking a really long time.
Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought so as Hermione asked about her shortly thereafter. Andrew swiped Alan's wand and cast Tempus. Small numbers floated up and Andrew read them off,
"Ten to eleven. She's twenty minutes off, isn't she?"
Alan merely nodded. Hermione gave him a firm look. "Andrew Mayfair, right?"
"Yes ma'am," Andrew responded, smiling disarmingly, "it's very nice to make your acquaintance."
Alan rolled his eyes, "Andrew, stop flirting with everything that moves and keep in mind that she's taken. No moving in on her allowed."
Viktor carefully sent a smile Alan's way, and Andrew leaned back and pouted. Alan smiled back, even knowing that he wasn't necessarily speaking of Krum when he labelled Hermione taken. It just worked to say it in general, as he knew at least three people were in line behind Krum, and, for Harry, Alan would defend her from Andrew's inappropriate advances.
After a few minutes, Andrew got bored of sulking and tried to complain. Alan hadn't said a word this time, but they knew each other too well. The complaints were standard. "Alan, I wasn't making inappropriate advances, I was just com-"
"Andrew, any advances of yours are inappropriate, and I don't care if you were simply 'complimenting' her. She's out of bounds; deal with it. Hey, look. I think Fleur's returning."
He was indeed correct, but she wasn't returning on her own power. She came up with an escort of merpeople, cuts bleeding on her face, and her sister in the arms of one of the merfolk. They brought them back to the shore, handing them to the tender mercies of Madam Pomfrey, and one of them broke off to speak with Dumbledore. Several minutes later, a short conference was held, and then Mr. Templar announced the scores.
"We have deliberated and will award points out of fifty for each champion. Alan Prince used the bubblehead charm and returned first; ten minutes within the hour, with his hostage awake without leave. However, no spell was cast to wake him from Alan's wand, which indicates sabotage that fortunately failed. We award him forty-eight points."
"Guess I was supposed to drag you up, awake or not, bucko." Alan drawled. Andrew hit him in the shin.
"Like I would have laid still for that." Andrew griped good-naturedly. "One of them's probably just sore anyways."
"Viktor Krum arrived second, having used incomplete transfiguration to great success. We award him forty points."
"Miss Fleur Delacour also used the bubblehead charm, and returned well outside the time limit, having fought off grindylows on the way down and then running afoul them on the way back once more. She was rescued by the merfolk, and brought back safely. We award her twenty-eight points."
Fleur looked surprised, and turned aside; beside Alan, Andrew sniffed and turned away. Alan just sighed in amusement; Andrew always seemed to be antsy about something. Alan suspected he didn't like veela: too much like competition. A gentle knock on the head brought his attention back, and Alan smiled warmly at him, a gesture that took Andrew off guard, although he did return it.
"You staying for dinner?"
"Ask Koreol. That also depends on what I get for dinner …" Andrew eyed Alan suggestively, and Alan rolled his eyes, standing abruptly to throw him off. Templar continued his final announcement.
"The third and final task will take place on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you for the support you have shown your champions!"
The gathered students moved aside and easily flowed back towards the school. Alan moved on his own way, hustled along by Madam Pomfrey and tailed by his father and Andrew's. Severus seemed to be eyeing the vampire and wizard with concern, but Koreol shortly made an overture and he seemed to relax alongside Velorian. Alan smiled contently and continued on, throwing an arm around Andrew's shoulders, pleased that their heights now matched.
"Maybe you will get something interesting for a meal."
Alan almost regretted the phrase as Andrew looked him over in a very suggestive manner, but he didn't remove his arm quite yet. There were still several options for keeping him in line, and he really hadn't seen him for too long. What was a little blood between friends?
Andrew shifted, and Alan quickly pushed him away before continuing walking ahead. Madam Pomfrey glared until he gave her an innocent look, and then she shook her head in exasperation, continuing on. Alan stuck his tongue out at Andrew as they continued their path. Maybe there was a bit more to it than just indulging a friend … Andrew was going to have to earn that.
IIII
"So …" Neville offered.
Harry glanced up at him from the small huddle they had in the library over their homework and raised his eyebrow. A glance proved that Ron had wandered out of sight and Hermione was most likely searching for another book. It was a week after the second task, and Harry had already heard from Alan that he was fine and surprisingly in a good mood. Harry hadn't asked.
"Are we ever going to indulge ourselves in that book we really shouldn't own?" Neville inquired once more. It took Harry a moment to think of just what book that might be; he owned several he shouldn't but … Remembering, he considered tapping his head on the table but finally, he simply rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Well, I don't suppose there's any reason not to." Harry hedged. "But do we really have time?"
Neville huffed. "Harry, I've already read the book. I'm half waiting for you to read it as well, but somehow I don't think you'll get around to it anytime soon. It's not that hard; should we at least try the beginning stages? Those should be pretty easy."
Harry marked his place, closed his book and shuffled his papers into order before reluctantly nodding. Hermione came back as they were leaving, but she took their excuses with ease; she'd seen them working, and didn't mind the quiet at all, although the dark look she sent the way of Ron's abandoned work promised a hearty lecture once he returned. Harry and Neville were glad to be out of that one.
Their leaving took them to a small room Neville had apparently selected for being an abandoned classroom on the upper levels of the school. Harry presumed he'd found it with the map, and they settled quietly in as Harry stretched and inquired quietly as to how on earth you were supposed to start. Neville, of course, immediately consulted the book.
"A sprinkling of rosemary mixed with mugwort and henbane, dusted over the forehead before falling into meditation."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Henbane?"
"Yes, henbane." Neville huffed. "We're not eating it; it's just going to be ground up and you're supposed to lie down the meditate anyways for about twenty or so minutes. I'll set an alarm on my wand for thirty minutes; the door's locked, so we shouldn't be disturbed. Whatever your animal is, it should manifest itself undeniably to you during the time you meditate and then you'll have your answer of what you're going to try for."
Harry looked at Neville dubiously, but laughed and accepted. "Fine, fine. I'll presume you have the mix, then, since you're ever so eager?"
"Yep, mate, I do." Neville rolled over and grabbed a small jar out of his bag. "Hope you don't mind lying on the floor."
Harry shrugged out of his robes, leaving him in his trousers and shirt before lying back with the robe as a pillow. "For a half-hour? To become an Animagus? Not a whit."
Neville laughed and pulled his own robe off to make a pillow and worked the lid on the bottle open. "Good. There are other options; there's a potion you could make, or a complicated sleep spell. Different people need different help to figure out exactly what they've got, but this one's easiest. I don't really get the spell, and we'd probably need you to talk Alan into making the potion if we wanted to be sure we got it right. It's hellishly complicated."
Harry closed his eyes tightly as Neville rubbed a tiny amount of the mix over his forehead for him and smiled. "He'd love the challenge. So, we just relax and let it work?"
"That's what the book says." Neville allowed. "If it doesn't work, we get a half hour nap. We're the only ones here, so if it's wrong, oh well."
Harry laughed once more, but he didn't want to open his eyes as he felt himself begin to simply relax. His laughter faded and the space behind his eyes sank into deep grey fuzz as his breathing slowed and deepened. He could feel himself slipping into the deep trance, and slowly an image grew across his eyelids.
It started out as plants and a scene of nature, with dark crawling vines and large, towering trees. He was standing in murky water, with rich wet smells assaulting his nose. Off to one side, a stepped pyramid towered, and musty heat beat against his thin skin, warming him. There was a feeling of floating, and suddenly he was looking down at a lithe looking lizard, crouched ankle-deep in a film of water around the tree roots. His gaze moved as he felt like he was standing by the creature, and quickly Harry strolled around it, feeling confused. He'd never heard of a creature like this. It was a long-legged lizard, its shoulder level with his solar plexus and its body long and thin, like a greyhound but longer and much larger. The scales were dark and shimmering, similar to a snake's, and the creature had no horns, no wings; it was completely streamlined.
Suddenly, the animal dashed forward, running as though flying through the water and trees as it raced after whatever had caught its attention. The motion knocked Harry off balance, and he fell back towards the water. He was certain to splash down in mere moments –
Harry jerked as his eyes opened, showing him the abandoned classroom once more. Carefully, he wiped his forehead off, coming away damp and sweaty and covered in the herbs. Across from him, Neville was already sitting up, smiling brightly. Harry gave him a wry smile.
"What'd you get?"
"A horse." Neville announced. "Large dark Arabian. I could run for miles on end!"
Harry couldn't help it; he laughed. "Yeah, you're definitely a runner."
Neville rolled his eyes, but turned back to Harry. "You?"
Harry paused, and shrugged. "I dunno. I've never heard of anything like it." Neville tilted his head to the side, and Harry sighed. "Some kind of lizard, about even with mid-chest at its shoulders. It's long, thin, svelte and dark grey-green, shiny like dragon scale but put together like a snake's skin. But it didn't have any wings or horns or anything. Just some weird long-legged lizard."
Neville pulled at his lip, and sighed. "I think maybe you should use the potion, to try and get clarification. And ask Sirius about how his worked out; he's got an abnormal animal as well. If you don't mind me moving ahead …"
"Not at all, Neville." Harry laughed. "I want to see you as a horse; don't hold yourself back for me. Um," Harry eyed the book a moment, and Neville chuckled, handing it over easily.
"I trust Alan not to rat us out, Harry." Neville then tossed the jar of herbs as well. "He can try for his animal while he's at it, too. Payment for helping."
Harry smiled. "I'll get it back to you as soon as possible. Maybe he'll have time to work on it while he waits for the next task to come clearer."
Neville nodded, and stood, quickly throwing his robe back on. "I want to know everything, though." Neville grinned. "We have to do research on what form we're taking, so we'll be a while before we all have a solid answer, you know. Have to wonder how much mum knows, though."
"Our mothers would have a collective fit if they knew."
Neville nodded slowly. "Yeah … maybe I'll tell her once I'm finished. I really want her to see."
Harry smiled faintly. "I'd like mum to see too. Whatever else it is that … dragon is gorgeous."
Neville laughed faintly, pulling out the parchment Marauders Map. "Harry Potter, a dragon. Think you'll be willing to tell your dad that?"
Harry paused, and then nodded. "Yeah, I think I can. Although I'll be writing Sirius, mostly. Maybe to all the Marauders …"
Neville watched him for a long moment, and then sighed. "Something tells me you won't be informing him it's a green dragon."
Harry argued back. "I'm not going to lie about it, Neville."
"No, but you just won't mention colour, will you? Or the snake-skin."
"I had no intentions of leaving anything out."
Neville's expression shut down into scorn, and he growled as he turned and walked away. Harry continued slowly towards the lower levels, brooding. He had no intention of not telling them everything about his Animagus. He wasn't that scared. You can't pick your form, can you? It's all about chance. Furious, Harry stormed into the common room and up to his bed, secluding himself behind the curtains of his bed to write the letter to the Marauders.
To The Marauders,
I, son of Prongs, have a problem. I don't quite know what my Animagus form is. It's a tall, long lizard, somewhat dragon-like but no wings or horns anywhere. It's got tiny ears, but it's long and thin in body and carnivorous. I had some sort of feel like it was in a rainforest. The dragon, I've decided to call it a dragon, comes to about mid-chest.
Padfoot, help? How do I figure out how to complete the change? We're thinking we need the potion; does that sound right?
Humbly,
Son of Prongs
Harry sighed and sealed the letter, leaving his bed to jog up to the Owlery. He was not in denial of anything, and he wasn't that scared. Hedwig refused to land on his arm as he entered, but Harry quickly tied to letter to her leg, and released her to find Padfoot.
She'd been gone five minutes, Harry still standing, fuming, at the slots to leave, when he realized that he had not included his colour in the letter, or the skin. Harry turned away from the window and slumped to the ground, no longer looking at anything, and refusing to acknowledge that mistake.
He was still sitting at the juncture of floor and wall below a window, when Susan Bones came in and glanced down at him curiously. She crouched beside him, and had remained there for several minutes, before Harry finally glanced over at her. She gave him a bland look.
"Aren't you concerned about the owl-droppings that may affix themselves to your robes?"
"Cleaning charms." Harry snapped. He refused to look at her, afraid once more. Scared of her seeing the fear and shame on his face. The combination almost made him laugh. He was scared she'd see he was scared. How he managed to be so screwed up escaped him, but it built in his mouth like a bubble ready to pop at the slightest change.
"Ahh, yes. Those. Mr. Rich-Man."
Harry looked over at her quickly, not sure if he should be offended at her slur against his family money. Her expression was still stoically bland, and Harry cursed his curiosity. He stood quickly, and moved away from the window, studiously checking over his robes and cleaning the few spots with quick charms. Susan caught a few spots as well, and smiled as she whistled down a tawny owl to her.
"I was just coming up to send a letter to my aunt. Who were you sending a letter to?"
"My family." Harry shrugged. Susan may have been a friend, but that book and what he was trying to figure out were still illegal, especially at his age. Only adults could register as animagi, so it was understood you weren't supposed to try until then either. That particular book was auror-specific. Small truths worked best, ones that simply held a wide gap in their true spectrum, a phrase that was a lesson from Alan at his clearest. The phrase worked, and Susan nodded warmly. Harry looked her over for a moment, and then bowed playfully, kissing her hand before walking out without a word. Hopefully she'd remember the courtesy now, rather than the state he was in when she'd arrived.
Besides, it never hurt to be polite to a pretty girl.
IIII
It was only three days before Harry wandered to the library with Alan, and he smiled to find him seated where he normally was. Although he'd been in a good mood so far, he hadn't been very chatty. Harry sat, and pulled out the book but before he'd even completed it, Alan glanced at him sidelong, and growled,
"Potter, what the Hell are you doing invading my space?"
Harry blinked, and frowned back. "The library's fair space, Prince. My apologies if I take up your studying room, but the air is lovely and the space plentiful. I think there's plenty room more for another book." Harry moderated his tone towards the end, but Alan slammed his book shut, and slapped his feet back to the ground.
"Fine then. I'll move." He curtly announced.
Harry shook his head and slipped the book back inside his bag, standing and leaving on his own to a table alongside the next shelves. Parting, he sighed. "No, no, enjoy your dark little corner. I need one that's a tad lighter for my work, snake." Either Alan was pissed at him for whatever reason, or someone had been spying on him. Sitting down, Harry pulled his homework out, and began to work on his History of Magic essay. A half-hour later, Alan strolled over and put his hands firmly on the table.
"Potter. I think we need to talk."
He stood immediately thereafter, and Harry glared at him, trailing his strolling out and then slamming his books into his bag with unnecessary force before walking back over. He felt himself pass through a ward, and, seeing Alan standing there, arms akimbo and still looking fierce, Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and met his look with a sullen one of his own.
"Well?" Harry offered.
Alan ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance, silently mouthing words Harry couldn't catch. He looked firmly back at him and spoke. "I'm being watched by Moody; he's already searched the Slytherin dorms and my father's rooms. Chances are he'll be doing a cursory look through the other dorms, but I almost lost my stores of potion supplies; I had to entrust them to Green on the drop of a hat to keep them, along with several books illegal here that aren't in America." Alan gave him a long look, and Harry rolled his eyes and shifted his weight forward.
"Oh, so that's why you're being so antagonistic right now?" Harry shifted backwards with a mocking smile. "Gee, I thought it was just because you loved me."
Alan gave him a disgusted and amused look. "You wish."
"Well, let me know when we can talk again. We could always have another fly-by." Harry laughed, and Alan sat down primly.
"That would be ridiculous. Only if I can try hexing you off your broom. Don't worry; I know all the counters and we can have everybody glaring at us or try it at night with Andrew and Koreol keeping watch."
Harry turned around. "Night, perhaps. You can learn to shoot a moving target in the dark. So," Harry spun once more and stalked back to the table, getting into Alan's face, "any chance you could work out this?" Harry slid the book on animagi over to Alan and gave him a fierce look. He'd pulled it from his bag with sleight of hand, and offered it over. "Feel free to glamour it as you will. I need the potion to figure out more of what I'm potentially becoming. You can use it for your own benefit as well. Just get it back to me, would you? Before school ends?" Harry subtly passed the bottle of herbs under the table, tossing it into Alan's lap.
Alan glared back at him, and gently pushed him away. "I'll get you a messenger for it later. Scram."
Harry stood, jerking his chin up arrogantly, and then stormed out of the library, past the wards. He'd entered the main section when Moody clumped out of the shelves to eye him.
"You alright there, Harry?"
Harry jumped slightly, and shrugged. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"Saw you and Prince arguing. What was the problem?"
"Oh," Harry fidgeted and looked away shortly. "Well, I was just … you know. It was nothing."
"That was a pretty argument there. You walked in there pretty confident." Both Moody's eyes focused on Harry at once, and Harry fidgeted for several moments. The longer he lasted, the more Moody would believe him when …
"Potter?"
"I just wanted to take that corner, is all." Harry huffed awkwardly, not looking at Moody. "I like the spot, there's some good books around but he's always sitting there. You know." Harry fidgeted again, without prompting. Moody's stare was very disconcerting. "He told me off for it, and a few other things. Insisted I return a book I'd pulled out of there earlier; I was done with it. I'm fine, really. I think he guessed you were watching." Harry offered. Moody grunted.
"Yeah, he did. Warded the corner when he dragged you in, he did. Secretive little runt. Not surprising, considering, but still secretive. Don't like him, and don't like Geoffrey Alfaerus either. Patronising foreigner." Moody growled. "See you in class, then, Harry." Moody stumped off, still glaring at the air and terrifying several third years that wandered in. Harry pointedly continued his stroll back out of the library, and huffed as he remembered that Neville was still pissed at him. Harry didn't want to face that, so he quickened his pace and stormed into the dorms. Ditching his bag in his trunk, Harry fished out his Firebolt and went back downstairs. Flying would help him think; he hadn't done so in too long. Maybe he could forget his fears up there in a way he'd not managed for a long while.
A/N: I feel the love. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Please tell me what you think of this one as well? Two more weeks again!
Fire & Napalm