Thank you once again for all the lovely reviews.

Now we start to get into the story, and a note on the title of this chapter for anyone who actually reads this part of an update. I'm going off the idea that in Parsteltoung stress consist of four letters.

FYI: This is a very involved story don't assume anything is trivial.

Stress is a Four Letter Word If You Hiss It

Harry woke up the next morning very disoriented. Why is everything red? A voice in the back of his mind told him that his bed hangings had always been red, but he ignored it in favor of staring bemusedly around him. Red drapes surrounded the bed, and his hand plucked at a red coverlet. Oh ya, I was sorted into Gryffindor's house. He frowned. What was I thinking? I can hear Gryffindor laughing. Red isn't even my color for crying out loud.

"Harry?" a familiar voice queried from the other side of the drapes interrupting his internal and rather plaintive rant. The wall of fabric was thrust aside to reveal a freckled face and flaming red hair. "It's almost time for breakfast." He stared askance at his friend. "What's wrong?"

When Ron had opened the drapes Harry's hand had darted under the pillow for the knife he swore should have been there. "Don't ever do that again."

"Do what?"

Harry looked his best friend dead in the eye. "Don't come up on me all of a sudden like that. If there had been a blade under my pillow you would be dead now." He slid over to the edge of the bed and swung his feet down. "Ron," Harry gazed into his friend's eyes with the sincerest gaze he had. "I have developed certain reflexes ever since that night. Please, try not to surprise me. I'm not in full control of my initial reactions."

"What kind of reactions, Harry?" Ron said his best friend's name with desperation, thinking that if he could remind the boy that he was Harry Potter not Salazar Slytherin, Ron could keep his friend from changing into someone else.

"The dangerous kind," Harry got up and strode to the bathroom. At the door he turned around. "Don't worry Ron; I'm still me and you're still my best friend. I would never hurt either you or Hermione."

"I know that Harry, but no matter what you say you have changed. What did you get exactly from finding out you are Slytherin?" Ron waited for the answer with dreadful anticipation. He wanted to keep his friend.

Harry looked thoughtful, "It's a whole life. Thoughts, feelings, memories, everything merged with my own. Truly, I have a hard time separating on life from the other. Hermione is afraid of me because of that, because I couldn't control my impulses."

Ron bit his lip. "I'll talk to Hermione for you. She'll understand; she just needs time to adjust. We both do." He quickly crossed the room and enveloped Harry in a friendly hug. "I'll be there to help you and so will Hermione."

"You're not scarred of me?"

"Well, yes, but I can get over it. Unlike you I'm a Gryffindor to the bone." Ron smiled. "I think you should tone down on the vocabulary, though. You sound too adult."

"Bwhu?"

"See that last one went right by me."

"Well then perhaps you should try it," Harry's eye developed and evil glint. "Hermione would be impressed."

"Shut up." Ron yelled punching Harry on the shoulder.

Harry dodged the blow expertly. "I would love to continue, but nature calls." He disappeared through the bathroom door shutting it behind him.

Ron shook his head. Harry had become a bit prissier than he would like, but that could be fixed with time. He went to his trunk to look for his socks. Suddenly an inarticulate scream reverberated from the bathroom. Ron rushed over and almost had the door open when the voice inside continued. "God damn it!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. "Is it too much to ask to only have to go through puberty once! Fuck, it was bad enough the first time!" He continued in this vain for quite some time.

Ron looked at the room behind him. Neville and Dean were already down stairs and Seamus could sleep through anything. In fact, he was still sleeping. Seeing no danger of Harry's secret being reviled, Ron slid down the door and indulged in a good laugh. Maybe he's not all that prissy.

The boys made it down to the dinning hall for breakfast without any more outbursts from Harry. Ron sat next to Hermione as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Harry debated whether or not to sit with them and ended up choosing a place on the other side of Ron. Hermione flinched as he sat down. Throughout the meal she kept stealing glances at him. Harry couldn't for the life of him figure out why; he didn't look any different. Then he noticed that every time she glanced at him her eyes would stray up to Dumbledore at the head table.

Shit. She's going to tell him. It looked as if his meeting with Dumbledore would be bumped up a week or two. Harry had to tell him something before Hermione told him everything. Shit, shit, shit, "Ron I have to go, something I've got to do." Shit, shit, shit. Harry kept up his new and very appropriate mantra all the way to the Headmaster's office. Password?

"Cockroach clusters," Harry tried tentatively. "Fizzing wizzbie, lemon drop..." The list grew and grew. When he ran out of wizerding sweets, Harry went on to muggle candies.

"Actually it's tidily winks." Harry turned to face the Headmaster. "I trust that you want to talk now."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, come in then. If you're going to miss class you might as well be comfortable doing it." Dumbledore smiled at Harry. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes please, tea would be great." Harry stepped apprehensively into the Headmaster's office. He was not ready for this meeting, but there was no hope for it. Dumbledore glided over to the fire place where there sat two comfy looking armchairs and a conveniently placed tea set. As the old man magicked up some tea Harry turned to where the picture of Godric Gryffindor hung on the wall. He gave the founder a cheeky smile and executed a complicated hand gesture that would tell the portrait exactly who he was. Gryffindor stared in shock before recovering enough to stick his toung out at the teen.

"Now Godric, be nice to Harry he's not in any trouble and I might add in your own house." Upon hearing this, the man pirouetted and dropped below the frame of the picture. Laughter filled the room. Harry was of course bright red. Dumbledore didn't have to remind Godric of that. "Mind sharing the joke?" The Headmaster handed Harry a cup of tea.

Harry shot Gryffindor a warning look. "It's nothing, old friend; I just find it hard to believe that that young man is not in trouble." Dumbledore nodded his head smiling that vapid smile that crossed his face every time he was thinking hard and trying to hide it.

Harry shrugged. "Headmaster," he started not quite sure where to begin. "I don't really know what to say..."

"Just start at the beginning, Harry. Take your time."

"Well sir, I just woke up in the forest without any memory of getting there. Then this woman jumps down out of the trees and tells me that she can fix my eyesight. After that she pulled out this giant sword and then there was this flash of white light and then I woke up in the hospital wing." Harry, mindful of what Ron told him earlier, hoped he sounded like an adolescent.

"Harry, that doesn't make sense. The way you tell it the blinding light half the school saw was created only to fix your eyes." Dumbledore peered over the top of his glasses at Harry.

So, blatant stupidity isn't going to work. Okay let's let him feel the edges of what he is dealing with. "No sir, the light was information. I know what I must do now and why." Harry's voice turned cold and emotionless as the night.

Dumbledore sat with a grave look on his face, "What must you do?"

The boy smiled. "Kill Voldemort of course. I would appreciate it if you and the order would stay out of my way."

"Harry-"

"No, the subject is not open to debate. I have reasons to kill that bastard that you could not comprehend. This fight is between me and him, anyone who gets in the way, their life is forfeit." Harry softened his voice with effort. "The Order needs to protect the people. It is what they are good at, and they should concentrate on getting better at it."

Dumbledore sat down his tea cup and sighed. "Your not going to give me any choice in the matter are you?"

"No."

The Headmaster looked every one of his hundred plus years. "I only want to protect you, Harry."

"There is nothing to protect me from, Headmaster." With that Harry spun around and stormed out of the room.

Shit, shit, shit, that could have gone a lot better. Harry had not meant to give so much away. Now Dumbledore was suspicious, not a good thing. If the old man figured out the truth he would... not kill, but what ever he did it would be unpleasant. My only hope is if both the Headmaster and Hermione assumed he had told them each the same thing. One wrong word and he would have to run, again.

He was half way to class when his frazzled nerves took their toll. Where am I going? Harry stood for a moment before remembering he was supposed to be in Transfiguration, preferably with books. He trudged up to the Gryffindor tower and then, with his book bag, down to the class. He got there just in time to see everyone leaving. Grimacing he continued on to meet Pro. McGonagall. "Sorry for missing class Professor; I had to see the headmaster."

The prim witch tapped her quill on her desk. "That's all right Mr. Potter, but next time be more careful when you schedule your appointments. As for the work you missed: read Chapter 15 in your book, look at Hermione's notes and you should do just fine." She gave him a probing look. "Don't you have another class to get to?"

Potions! Snape was going to have him for an early lunch. Harry bolted. At least he had the needed books already in his bag, thank the Mother Night for small blessings. "Don't even think about it," He vehemently snapped as the stair case he was on began to shift. The school recognized that aura, and it was not copasetic, the stair case shuddered back into position as Harry flew past.

He made it to the potions class room in time to barrel into Snape. "Mr. Potter, if you wish to be late for class by all means be so, but please refrain from trying to kill me during your dramatic entrance." The Potions Master rasped as he rose from the floor and straitened his robes. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor and detention. Now sit down!" Snape turned abruptly and stalked to the front of the room.

"Seeing as you have yet to kill yourselves or a classmate so far at the NEWT level I believe it is time to try something more, interesting." He smiled a sadistic smile at the class. "Today we will be brewing the counter potion to the Inferno potion. I suggest you do a good job, you may find yourself needing this potion next week." At least half of the class shuddered.

The speech even gave Harry pause. He knew that Pro. Snape would never intentionally hurt one of his students, on some level anyway, but with the way he taught...

"Well, what are you all staring at." The class collectively jumped into a flurry of motion at Snape caustic demand.

Harry made it through the class in no more than two pieces. An accomplishment considering the day he had been having. He took a vile of his potion up to Snape's desk. As he sat it down the Professor's voice stopped him. "Mr. Potter, I expect to see you at eight o' clock sharp for your detention."

"Yes, sir," was Harry's dull reply as he headed back to his desk to clean up. Blessedly he had a two hour free period before his care of magical creatures class. He made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch. Seeing as he didn't eat breakfast Harry's stomach gurgled all along the way. He ate in like a starving man.

Harry was debating on whether he could handle thirds when Ron bounced, actually bounced into the chair across from him. The red head smiled at Harry. "Hey, Harry. Guess what."

"What?" Harry almost moaned. How dare Ron be so cheerful around him.

"I took your advice about Hermione and asked her out to the dance. She said yes." Ron continued to smile. "She even said that she would sit with us today." He did a double take at his best friend. "Your day not so good?"

"No"

"Wanna tell me about it"

"Maybe later when it's not an open wound. Let's just say I have detention with Snape and leave it at that."

"Ouch"

"Yah."

As Ron finished loading finished loading up his plate Hermione joined them. She still seemed a bit skittish around Harry, but when Ron pointed out that Harry couldn't hurt anything in his present condition she reluctantly agreed.

After lunch Harry went to the library with Hermione's notes to catch up on transfiguration. Studying he found could be very relaxing. Then came to the conclusion that Salazar Slytherin was one weird cookie. Care of magical creatures was only mildly stressful considering thy were studying miniature hydras. Why anyone would want a hydra as a pet was beyond Harry.

On the way down to the dungeons for his detention the muscles in Harry's shoulders began to tighten. He mentally prepared himself for the trials ahead. The class room door was open when he reached it.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, glad you could make it." Harry resisted the urge to glare a whole in the greasy git. "As you can see my third years were working on an adhesive potion." Snape handed him a bucket and scrubber. "I told them you would be nice enough to clean up after them."

"Yes, sir," Harry took the supplies and began to scrub.

It was some three hours later when he heard Snape hiss. Harry's head shot up, with the stabbing pain in his scare, to meet the Professor's glittering eyes. "Finish up and go back to your dorm." Snape gritted out before hurrying out of the room.

What could Moldywart want this time. Harry sat back on his heels where he was scrubbing at the adhesive where it had spilled next to the work bench. He quickly cast a cleaning spell and waited for the visions.

Harry was plunged into darkness. The only light was that which surrounded Voldemort's cloaked figure. Deatheaters surrounded him in a loose semi-circle. Each one was on his or her knees waiting. Harry practically felt the fear radiating off the huddled figures.

"I feel a challenger," the Dark Lord hissed. "Somewhere out there is a wizard who would take away my title as Dark Lord!" The gathered Deatheaters stared in horror at their Master. "No," Vodemort continued. "It is not one of you my faithful servants." He stepped forward. "I want you to hunt down this brazen wizard. For now I want information on anyone you suspect of gathering support. THIS CHALLENGER WILL BE ELIMINATED!" The hissing voice dropped to a whisper. "And any traitors will be eliminated with him..."

Harry woke to find himself on the floor of the potions class room. Today was not his day. Snape would tell Dumbledore about the meeting and the old coot wasn't stupid; he could put two and two together. He had to get on damage control fast.

He groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. Stone is not best for napping, he noted. Though he would hardly call that a restful sleep. Harry trudged down the corridor hell bent on getting back to Gryffindor Tower and more importantly bed, when he heard foot steps behind him. What now?

Suddenly Harry found himself against the wall, and another's body was pressed up against him. Whoa! His vision cleared enough for him to see platinum blond hair. Draco?!

"Little Gryffindors shouldn't be wandering around in the dungeons at night." The boy purred in his ear. It took Harry some time to process the situation. No, wait...Draco, but in the Great Hall. Yesss, his mind hissed at him, that revulsion was an uncontrolled reaction.

Harry called Draco's bluff. He nipped at the blonds ear and purred. "I was only looking for a little fun." He felt Draco stiffen momentarily and turn bright red. "So," Harry continued in a more normal tone. "What do you want so badly that you would try to seduce me?"

Draco stepped back and eyed Harry. The Gryffindor wasn't acting as he expected. He was supposed to blush and stutter, possibly try to run away. Harry was not supposed to take the initiative. "Like I would ever come to you for anything." Draco answered, his trademark sneer firmly in place.

"Not overtly, but you are desperate for something if your trying to seduce a scrawny runt like me, and I don't mean for sex." Harry glanced up and down the corridor before dragging the blond into a small alcove. Draco dug in his heel. "Damn it. I'm not going to rape you." Harry pulled the boy into the shadows. "Spill."

Draco bit his lip. "Fine you got me." He sighed. "I don't want to become a Deatheater and grovel at that bastard, half-breed's feet. I figured that if I was seen with you that I could get the good faith and protection of the light side."

"But you're a dark wizard, and I know you won't change your views."

"Desperate times."

Harry wanted to scream every profanity he knew. He did not need this right now. What was he going to do with the boy. Wait. His lips curved into a smile. "Okay Draco, you want a sham relationship, you got one." The blond opened his mouth. "Hear me out," Harry stopped him. "If you don't mind pretending that we are in a relationship. I'll sing your good graces to everyone that matters and teach you to stand up to that father of yours. Of course, the rumor of The Boy Who Lived and the Slyterin Prince as a couple will be flying up and down the halls by the end of the week."

Draco frowned. "Embarrassing but unavoidable. What do you get out of this?"

Harry gave Draco a feral smile, "You will get me into the Slytherin dorms."

Draco jumped. "What? Why?"

"All in good time." Harry's voice hardened. "Do we have a deal?"

"If I don't keep my part of the bargain?"

"I could just as easily denounce you a traitor."

Draco thought for a moment. "Deal." He glanced around the corridor. "When's our first pseudo tryst?"

"Tomorrow after classes. Meet me at the quiditch pitch." Harry started jauntily down the hall glad something went right today.