The Serpentine Subterfuge

by murkybluematter

Harriett Potter survived her first year masquerading as a pureblooded boy, but sinister forces are now moving through the wizarding world, and when something sinister starts moving through Hogwarts as well, Harry and her friends are pulled into another maelstrom—whether Harry likes it or not. Book two. Alanna the Lioness take on HP.

2. Chapter 2

A/N: The feedback from the first chapter was amazing—over 60 reviews on one chapter. So much so that I'm publishing this little chapter to keep you going until the next chapter, which in outline is going to be exciting I think. So I hope everyone enjoys it; from now on chapters will hopefully be shorter but faster. A note I would like to make is that Frecklefreak pointed out I accidentally made contradictory references to Leo's eye color: it's hazel, like George (kudos to all who guessed his resemblance to our favorite thief), and I've gone back to fix the mix up, so thank you to my oh-so-observant reviewers for keeping me on my toes ^^.

A/N2: So there's a lot of Leo in this one. A lot. Actually it's all Leo, so sorry about that, but it's the only part of the rest of the summer I thought might stand alone so I could get it to you guys faster. The story is very AU in this one, though any Lioness fans will feel right at home. Don't worry if it seems really foreign to the HP universe—I'm going to mesh it as the story continues. The usual disclaimer, don't own other people's characters or plot. Thanks for reading!

The Serpentine Subterfuge:

Chapter Two:

Harry's head was spinning. Again. She was bent over her notes on the Polyjuice Potion in the Potter Library, trying as she had been for weeks to crack the input variable restrictions. She had to get around them somehow, if her idea was going to work.

There were different types of shaped magic, as Harry had been learning in her studies. There was the kind of magic that did relatively the same thing every time to the nearest thing it encountered—like a warming charm or the Expelliarmus spell, just point and shoot. Then there was magic that relied on parameters, variables, which were supplied in the case of a spell by the wizard's intent and in the case of potions by ingredients added after completion. In the case of Polyjuice, the basic pattern of the shaped magic was inlaid in the recipe, but the exact effect of the potion depended on the input variable—the hair of the wizard one wanted to turn into, which was added after the potion was complete. At first Harry thought the potion simply 'read' the DNA encoded in the strand of hair and produced a copy in the wizard who drank it. But then, Harry did a little more research.

If DNA was the only thing the magic was 'reading' when a wizard took Polyjuice, then it wouldn't account for things in the appearance that DNA had nothing to do with. For instance, if Polyjuice only read DNA and you took a hair from someone who dyed their hair you'd wind up with their original color. If someone was malnourished as a child and had grown up shorter than they were 'supposed' to be given genetics alone, you'd end up taller than they were under the influence of Polyjuice. If your target had lost their leg in battle, you'd end up as them with the leg, because nothing in the DNA accounted for environmental influences throughout a person's life.

So Harry had reasoned that the potion wasn't analyzing the DNA, or at least not the DNA alone. It was as if the strand of hair somehow represented the person it belonged to as they were at the moment the hair was plucked. She wasn't sure how that could be, so she had done more research on biomagic, the magic that affected the body. Archie had helped her a lot in that area; Healing was pretty much all biomagic, and even though she was technically on-par with Archie's level as an AIM first-year, Archie had been reading medical journals and checking out books on Medi-magic for years. His stores of knowledge in the field far outclassed hers, and the information he came up with was very helpful.

It turned out that hair didn't just contain DNA. Archie explained that even muggles were aware of this. They used hair to test if a person had been taking illegal substances, because hair absorbs chemicals like arsenic and smoke from the environment. Also, even the DNA that was in hair was not actually nuclear DNA unless the hair was plucked from the root. Regular, shed hairs only contained mDNA, or mitochondrial DNA, which wouldn't have the full genetic code needed to copy the exact physical characteristics even barring any environmental influences. So in other words the potion wasn't actually taking DNA from the hair put into it. It was taking something else.

That something else turned out to be magic. As Archie explained, hair not only absorbed physical chemicals and toxins from the environment, but in the case of a wizard, hair absorbed magic as well. In retrospect, this piece of information explained a lot. Most adult wizards and witches wore their hair long. Harry had always chalked it up to pureblooded custom, but what if it was more than that? As Draco and Pansy were always telling her, purebloods did nothing without a reason. Archie said that a wizard's hair was constantly absorbing magic, and the closest and most frequently absorbed magic was the wizard's own magical signature. When the hair was added to the potion, the strongest magic in it would be its owner's magical signature, meaning that what the hair likely added to the potion was the magical signature.

From there, Harry researched what sort of information could be gleaned from a magical signature. She knew that magical signatures were highly specific, and as such were used for identification purposes in the Ministry, much like a fingerprint, hence the 'signature' part. They were also nearly impossible to falsify, which is why high-level wards were keyed to magical signatures rather than to a pass code as lower-level security wards were. Harry knew that Polyjuice changed only a person's physical appearance, meaning that the taker's mind and soul remained his own, but she discovered that not even Polyjuice could copy another wizard's magical signature. Otherwise anyone could get through top-clearance wards with the potion, which was simply not the case.

So the potion wasn't copying the entire signature, but some part the signature was what gave the potion the input it needed to copy. Therefore, Harry thought, there must be physical data stored in a magical signature about the person it belonged to. Yet, she couldn't imagine why that would be, or what part of the signature the physical data would be found in.

This was important for her to understand, because she was trying to change the input parameters slightly to modify the potion. The recipe was too delicate to be meddled with—and honestly, she wasn't skilled enough to even try. What she planned on doing wasn't changing the potion itself so much as it was changing what went into it. Harry wanted to make a variant of the Polyjuice that wouldn't copy one form or another exactly, but instead allow for a blending of two forms. She wanted to blend she and Archie's looks and create a middle ground that they could both Polyjuice into, thereby looking exactly the same, or at least exact enough to fool everyone. In truth, Harry was not, repeat not, changing either of their sex. She really didn't want to actually become a boy for six years, and she was pretty sure Archie would just plain refuse.

Instead, she wanted to create a form that would appear to be a slightly delicate male. In Archie's case it would actually be male, and in hers it would only look male, with her girl features vastly understated. Narrower hips, broader shoulders, pretty flat chest, and taller than she would probably grow to be naturally. To do this, she needed to somehow isolate the components of a magical signature that revealed the physical characteristics of the wizard it belonged to, so that she could blend she and Archie's signature in a way that selected for the characteristics she wanted. Then she had to find a way to get the Polyjuice to accept the blended signature instead of a natural signature.

Of course, this was not the only thing about the potion she'd have to change. She also needed the potion to last longer. Harry knew she was probably not the first to wish Polyjuice lasted longer than an hour, and indeed she had read a lot of research on the possibility of the subject—some credible and some not so credible. One article had actually suggested that one should eat live dung beetles once every new moon to make the transformation last longer. Utter rubbish, in Harry's opinion. Yes, there had been much speculation done on the possibility, but all of the articles she'd read had proposed changes to the recipe. Harry had brewed the Polyjuice recipe three times in the nearly two months she'd been home, and each time her mind and magic were telling her the same thing. The recipe was perfect.

Harry saw, and more importantly felt, nothing wrong with the recipe as it was. It sort of…clicked, magically speaking. Everything fit together in a way that was delicate yet elegant, and Harry was sure the key to adapting the potion was not in changing the actual recipe. It was in the variables.

The input variable of the hair was obvious, because the outcome of the potion changed depending on whose hair you put in it, but Harry thought the time-sensitive portion of the potion was just as variable. As far as she could tell, nothing in the ingredients that caused the change in the drinker were subject to time. That is, the things in the potion that turned you into someone else weren't the ones that made it only last an hour. It was the ingredients that made it temporary that were time-sensitive, so the reason it only lasted an hour was because of the ingredients that changed you back to yourself. Those were designed in the recipe to become effective in an hour.

Harry supposed the idea was that it was better to have a shorter working time than to be stuck in a different form forever.

Or was it?

Harry had a tentative plan to get around the annoying need to take Polyjuice every hour. It revolved around the fact that the Polyjuice recipe was so air-tight. Every ingredient had a purpose and was carefully measured against all the other ingredients. In this way, the finished potion was entirely neutral. It wouldn't react with anything until drunk, which meant anyone's hair could be added safely, but that also meant that anything else could be added safely as well. Harry was at this point playing with the idea of adding an ingredient to make the change permanent. Not irreversible, of course, but permanent in that the transformation would not reverse itself naturally. It wouldn't be practical for anyone who wanted to become someone else for a day, but for six years? Harry thought it was a rather good idea. She would simply add the ingredient that would ensure permanence at the same time she added the modified magical signature. Of course, that meant that she had to figure out how to blend the signatures correctly first.

Harry found that it helped to think in terms of colors. Right now she was red and Archie was yellow. They wanted to both end up as a sort of yellow-orange. It would be all too obvious, however, if they were both to become yellow-orange over night. Instead, the plan would actually involve a series of permanent Polyjuice Potions, individualized for both Harry and Archie and spread out over at least half a year. In the first dose, she would change slightly, and with each dose after that she would be more orange-red, then more orange, and eventually she would reach the yellow-orange at the same time Archie would. She hadn't yet decided how many doses it would take to change them slowly enough that those who saw them every day didn't notice anything, but that was the general plan.

Or it would be, if Harry could just figure out how to differentiate the parts of a magical signature.

Harry sighed and closed the book she was reading. It hadn't told her anything the other twenty books hadn't already said. She needed to start brewing for Krait anyway if she wanted to have the crates filled before noon like usual. Harry checked the clock-face on the Library wall. It was already eight in the morning.

She shelved the books carefully before going down to the lab. There wasn't a crazy librarian to give her the evil eye if she left them out, but she didn't want one of the adults to see what she was reading up on. Better that they thought she was in the library studying for her owl-school classes. Harry felt marginally better by the time she'd gotten the cauldron off of the drying rack and set it up. She was starting a new potion today, after all, and there was no way to be morose while doing that. She read over the recipe for the love potion Krait had given her the day before carefully.

She had never brewed a love potion before, and Krait had never stocked them before either, but his sales had been up since she started, a combination of having a wider stock available and the fact that Leo was apparently quite popular with the residents of the alley. Harry guessed Leo had been frequenting the alley for a long time, fetching potion ingredients for his father and whatnot, and had made a lot of friends. Now that Leo was accompanying her to the Serpent's Storeroom, it seemed many people were curious to know what the fuss was about. More interest meant more customers, meant more demand for potions, and more for Harry to do.

So she was trying her hand at a love potion this morning and praying Archie never heard about it. He would tease her into the next century, especially after she swore up and down after reading a critique Professor Snape wrote about another Master's work with love potions when she was nine that she would never go near the silly things.

Harry got out the ingredients the recipe called for and began preparing them. Once the base was simmering, she connected her core to the potion and began imbuing. She was getting better at telling ahead of time how much magic a potion would need, and she raised her eyebrows as her senses expanded. Apparently the amount of magic needed to brew a love potion was more than two Snowhit Draught's combined. Harry wondered if all love potions needed so much magic to be stable, and theorized that maybe it was that way because potions that worked on the compulsion of the mind needed greater magical input than potions that merely affected the body. She then wondered how much magic a potion like Amortentia or Veritaserum would take to make. Perhaps she wouldn't attempt those for a few more years.

Everything was going fine, until she got to stage three. The moment she dropped the dried chimera eyes she knew something was wrong. The potion looked fine to her eyes, but through the connection she was pouring magic into, it frothed and boiled. She could feel it, at first just a little bit off to her magical senses, but growing more unstable by the moment. It felt wrong, and unbalanced, and—and dangerous. Harry backed away from the potion rapidly. It was just barely starting to bubble ominously on the outside as Harry spat out the emergency sequence as loudly and clearly as she could.

"Code Omega! Station three! Pass code: Sunset Bravo!"

At her words, the built-in safety precautions Lily had insisted on when she agreed to let Harry brew alone sprang into action. Thick, magic-re-enforced shields rose from the ground and formed a secure dome over the unstable potion. A few seconds later, the potion erupted, taking chunks of the cauldron with it. It splattered with a violent shake against the clear glass of the domed container and Harry shakily sat on one of the thin metal stools to give her heart rate a chance to settle.

Five seconds later, James and Remus both tore down the stairs of the lab. They skidded to a halt when they saw Harry sitting, unharmed, well protected from the explosion, and both panted heavily.

"You…okay…Harry?" James puffed out between breaths, "We heard…the alarm."

"I'm okay, Dad," Harry said, smiling a little crookedly, "Just surprised, that's all."

"You got the shield up, though," Remus said, looking relieved, "Good job."

James reached out and tugged Harry off the stool into a strong embrace, "Scared the life out of me, Fawn. What happened?"

Harry hugged him back tightly, "It was the chimera eyes."

"That means nothing to me," James laughed out, with just the slightest hint of hysteria to it.

"Sorry," Harry muffled a laugh in her dad's arm, "Bad recipe, I think. I didn't know enough about the potion I was making to spot the error. I'll be more careful from now on."

"Well, you're all right, and that's what matters," Remus said, eyeing the mess behind the cauldron barrier uneasily, "I'll help you clean it up tomorrow, okay? Lily will want to see it when she gets home. Why don't you take it easy for the rest of the day."

Harry nodded, detangling herself from her dad to hug Remus as well, "Thanks for coming so quickly to my rescue you guys. My very own knights in shining armor."

James smiled awkwardly, "Yeah, someday I'll figure out you don't need saving."

Harry shook her head, "Someday I really will need saving, and I'll be glad I have you there."

At her father and Remus's insistence, Harry took the rest of the morning off. They were convinced it was her tendency to over work, not the faulty recipe, that was responsible for such an unprecedented occurrence in her lab. It was true that Harry had never actually blown up a cauldron before, but at least they knew the safety precautions worked.

At noon, Harry flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, for once empty-handed. Leo stood from where he'd been lounging against a wall and smiled incredulously at her.

"Aren't you forgetting something today, sprout?" He eyed her empty hands meaningfully.

Harry smiled ruefully, "I'm afraid not. No potions today. I just came to tell you I didn't need an escort. Not that I ever need one, mind you, but whenever I suggest you stop inconveniencing yourself to ferry my potions about—"

"I tell you that nothing in the name of friendship is inconvenient," Leo finished, walking over to ruffle her hair.

"As you say," Harry sighed, patting the unruly curls back into place, "Though I don't think I'll agree that this is okay until you request something similarly inconvenient from me."

Leo shook his head at her, "You're too honest for your own good, Harry. It's like you're inviting people to do whatever they please to you."

"I'm not," Harry frowned uncomfortably, not sure which part of that statement she was protesting. She wasn't honest at all, but she couldn't tell Leo that, "I said you should request something of me if it's to be an equal friendship, not that I would let you run over me if you asked."

Leo just looked humorously down at her and changed the subject, "So why no potions today? Your brewer finally taking a much-needed day off?"

"Not exactly," Harry said, "One of the recipes Krait gave me last time was bad. A cauldron blew up, making a huge mess in the lab, so no potions."

Leo looked troubled, "Were you in the lab when the explosion happened?"

Harry shrugged, "Yes, but the lab is very well equipped in terms of safety. The shields contained the explosion, it's just a pain to clean up."

"Even so," Leo said, "It wouldn't have happened with a better recipe."

"I suppose that's true," Harry said, not really paying attention as she moved out of the way to let a large group of witches in magenta robes pass, "But a Potioneer takes that risk when trying out an unknown potion recipe. There is no committee that releases standard recipes for potions, you know. Potion Masters just publish books with the recipes they use in them. Those recipes might have been passed down to them from their mentors, or they might be changed and improved upon by the Master himself. There's no way of knowing how good a recipe is until you try it, unless there is significant research already published about a particular recipe."

Leo ran a hand through his brown hair distractedly, "Yeah, I guess. Still…"

Harry took a step toward the door, saying, "Sorry you coming here was even more unnecessary than usual today, Leo. I'll see you tomorrow I expect."

Leo raised an eyebrow, "Where are you going, then?"

"I'm going to see about getting a better recipe from the boss," Harry said.

"Alright, let's go," Leo said, his laid back grin back in place, "I've got to have a few words with Mr. Krait myself."

Harry sighed, "I really don't need any protection today, Leo. My hands are free."

"You don't believe me? I'm crushed. All right, young Harry. No protection, then. How about a friend?" Leo said, holding the back door of the pub open expectantly.

"I suppose one always needs friends," Harry said, smiling slightly. She glanced up at Leo as she walked out onto the alley, "Friends help each other, though, so start thinking of ways I can repay you."

Leo just smiled, and they walked the familiar route to Knockturn alley companionably. When they got to the Serpent's Storeroom, Mr. Krait greeted them with the same nonplussed resignation he always did.

"Back again, Harry? Oh, look, Leo's here too. What a surprise," Krait yawned theatrically, waving them to the back, "Just set the crates over—hang on. No potions today?" He lifted his chin from his other hand and looked between the two of them expectantly, "Didn't run into trouble on the alley again, did you?"

"No, Mr. Krait," Harry said, "I'm afraid the recipe you gave me for the love potion was faulty. It blew up the cauldron, unfortunately, so I was wondering if you had a different version somewhere."

Krait sat straight up, frowning, "Faulty recipe? I'm sorry, kid, are you okay?"

Harry nodded.

Leo scowled, "Harry was in the lab when it happened."

"Well of course he was—ahem," Krait coughed amusedly as he caught himself. He seemed to enjoy pulling one over on Leo, and had yet to correct him about who was brewing the potions, "I suppose as the, ah, assistant you got the brunt of it?"

Harry shook her head, "I'm fine. The lab has shields that we can activate when a cauldron is unstable."

"Well, I do feel bad about it, though," Krait scratched his chin, "It wasn't my recipe. I don't deal much with love potions and the like. With all the new customers coming in I thought to expand a bit, so I got the recipe off an old friend. Perhaps he wasn't as friendly as I thought. Blew up the cauldron, you say? That's not an easy feat, though of course they don't make cauldrons like they used to. Bottoms are all thin and weak."

Harry shrugged, "I understand how it is with unfamiliar recipes. Usually I'd catch something so out of place, but I'm not familiar with love potions either. Now I know not to add chimera eyes at least."

"Dried chimera eyes?" At Harry's nod, Krait's eyes grew wide and he paled abruptly, "I should have looked at that recipe. I'm really sorry, kid, I could have caught that if I'd looked. Dried chimera eyes," he shook his head, a bit shaky, "Those should only be used in the most basic and least reactive potions. Violent ingredient, they are, one of the few that react with large amounts of magic. With the magic involved in a love potion, I'm very surprised you got out of the blast zone in time, kid. That kind of reaction would have had almost no visible warning signs."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, "Just luck I guess."

At her words, Leo blew out a breath harshly. She turned to glance at him and nearly stepped back in surprise. Leo's face was dark with suppressed emotion. He was glaring at Krait so fiercely Krait actually winced.

"Who gave you that recipe?" Leo asked in a voice that was dangerous and low, "Tell me it wasn't one of ours." Harry couldn't believe such a sound was coming from Leo. Even when he had moments of seriousness, her friend's voice only acquired a firm edge. This was different. Leo sounded like a general whose subordinate had directly disobeyed him. He was angry.

Krait swallowed heavily, "It was Claw, your—Leo. Claw gave the recipe to me. He was supposed to deliver it from Solom, who got it off a traveling potion brewer at the Dancing Dragon, but I'm thinking Claw might have changed a few things in the delivering."

Leo let out a breath slowly, still visibly upset, "Couldn't have been Solom, you're right. Claw though…I don't know as much about him as I'd like. I'll look into it, Edgar."

"As you like, Leo," Krait said, "Now, Harry, you'll send me the bill for the new cauldron?"

"It's not exactly your fault, though, is it?" Harry said dubiously, "Why don't I send the bill to this Claw person?"

"Because Claw eats little kids like you for breakfast," Krait snorted, "I'll take care of it, brat. I should have looked at the recipe before handing it over in any case. That'll teach me to let my guard down, won't it?"

"Do you think this guy was trying to kill you, Mr. Krait?" Harry asked, eyes wide. Why was Krait not more alarmed at the idea?

"Who knows?" Krait said gruffly, "Could be me, or if he knows I contract out it could be one of my brewers who was the target. No way of knowing, since I don't advertise who makes what potions unless a customer specifically asks."

"I see," Harry said, "Well, let me know if you get a better copy of that potion you wanted, Mr. Krait."

"Will do, kid. Just keep making the old ones for now," Krait said.

Harry bade Krait good day. Leo left the shop with her. He was still frowning, brooding about Claw or the phony recipe or something. Harry kept glancing at him as they walked back toward Diagon alley. She felt like she should say something, anything to make Leo snap out of his black mood. It wasn't like him to be upset for so long, at least as far as she knew. Come to think of it, Harry didn't know too much about Leo, besides that his dad was Malcolm Hurst and his mother was some kind of Healer who worked at a wizarding clinic. Probably she should learn a little more about Leo, if they were to be friends. Then again, that would be a little hypocritical of her. She hadn't exactly been very honest or forthcoming with Leo.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

When they reached the main alley, Leo turned toward the Leaky Cauldron, but Harry snagged his elbow and turned him the other direction, toward Gringotts. Leo allowed her to tow him forward a few steps, a bemused eyebrow rising as he looked down at her.

"Are we not going to the Leaky Cauldron today?" he asked.

"We are not," Harry said, "I am taking the day off while the lab gets cleaned up and you are taking the day off from…whatever you do with your days because you are not fit company for anyone at the moment."

"Permit me to point out a couple of flaws in that plan," Leo said, though he didn't stop her from steering them down the alley, "If you are the assistant, shouldn't you be the one cleaning the lab? Also, it is strange of you to volunteer to accompany me this afternoon if I am not fit company."

"It's true that normally such an act would be bothersome," Harry said loftily, "But I have found that nothing in the name of friendship is truly inconvenient. I shall bear with your towering temper if only so that no one else shall have to."

"Towering temper?" Leo said incredulously, "I'm not that upset."

"Well you won't be upset at all after this," Harry said.

"After what?" Leo frowned, "Where are we going?"

"You mean, 'where have we arrived?'" Harry corrected, stopping and turning Leo to look at the brightly colored shop front before them.

"Fortescue's?" Leo glanced sideways at her.

"Ice cream makes everything better," Harry said, adding, "Except potions," as an after thought.

"How old are you?" Leo asked, amusedly.

Harry frowned inwardly at the jab at her age, but at least Leo wasn't scowling darkly any more.

"Old enough to appreciate the good things in life," she said, pushing the older boy by the small of his back into the ice cream parlor, "Besides, it's not just ice cream I'm giving you today."

"Oh?" Leo laughed at her insistent maneuvering and held his hands up to show that he'd go quietly to the counter.

"Yes," Harry said seriously, "Today you get information."

"About you?" Leo glanced at her sharply, "A rare thing indeed. What's the occasion?"

"Your grumpiness," Harry said teasingly, "Also, I think we've reached the point where it's clear you're not going to just go away. If I don't tell you now, it'll be ugly when you find out later, and I guess I don't have a real reason to keep it from you." Besides habit, she added silently.

Leo looked down at her smugly, "Finally. All right, I want two scoops of strawberry and one of chocolate."

Harry spluttered, "Wha-? You're the almost-grown-up! You're supposed to pay."

Leo shook his finger at her, "A-ah, Harry. You invited me, and you're the one with the job. You should pay."

"But—but I'm saving my money for—"

"For?" Leo pressed, interested.

Harry blew air at her bangs in annoyance, "Okay, fine, I'll pay. But you're only getting two scoops."

"Stingy," Leo sniffed, then grinned at her. Harry grinned back. Ice cream was definitely a good idea.

She ordered their ice cream and handed over the sickles with good grace. She really wasn't worried about having enough money for the apartment come August. She was making plenty with all the potions she was brewing for Krait. They sat outside so they could people-watch while they ate. After a while Leo began pointing out people who passed by and telling Harry about them. It was rather like listening to the Malfoy's tell her about their guests at the Garden Party, and yet, it was nothing like that. The people milling about Diagon were completely different from the sharp and sparkling purebloods who frequented Malfoy Manor.

Also, Leo didn't tell her about people's dirty secrets. Instead, she learned that the woman who worked at the bakery across the street was dating the blacksmith's brother, who was planning on proposing to her on their four-year anniversary. She learned that the boy who swept the feathers up at Eeylop's Owl Emporium was the son of the chef who cooked for the kitchens at the Dancing Dragon. She learned that the boy's name was Jason, and that he wanted to be a toy-maker when he grew up. Apparently Jason's woodcarvings were already very well known about the alley.

Harry listened and watched as Leo's face came alive. He talked about these people like they were all a part of his family. His hazel eyes shone with sincere fondness when he told her about the man who'd sold a priceless ruby for a dragon's egg, which had turned out to be a dud. The man had then sold that very dragon's egg to some rich bloke from the continent and used the money to set up shop as an apothecary. That man, it turned out, was none other than Mr. Mulpepper—Mr. Tate's boss! Harry had quite a laugh over that one.

Eventually, though, Leo turned his eyes from the street to her face, "So, now that I'm all cheered up again, weren't you going to give me something?"

Harry pushed her empty dish away from her with resignation, "Three questions. No promises, though—I'll pass on a question I don't want to answer."

Leo smiled, "More than enough. Okay, first: I know you and Krait are keeping something from me. What is it?"

Harry winced, "Maybe this wasn't a good idea. I don't want to de-cheerify you already."

"I promise not to get upset by anything you tell me," Leo said, "I'm too happy you're telling me to care that you lied to me for so long."

Harry smiled a little, maybe if she was lucky everyone would react that way in the end, "Your interest in me cannot possibly be healthy."

Leo looked a little bit ill, "Well, when you say it like that…" he grimaced, rolling his shoulders as if to banish an uncomfortable feeling, "Just answer the question."

"You're right," Harry admitted, "Krait does sort of know something you don't. It's not that we were lying to you, though. You just assumed, and we never really corrected you."

"About…?"

"Well, the reason I won't get in trouble for taking the day off while the lab is such a mess is because I'm not actually a lab assistant," Harry said, "I'm a Potioneer. I'm the one who makes the potions I bring to Krait every day, so the boring old potion maker who you're always saying needs a day off is actually…me. Surprise," she finished weakly.

Leo leaned back into his chair, blinking slowly. He cleared his throat, "I'm feeling a bit…sheepish. You really made all those potions?"

Harry nodded.

"I guess I can see why you didn't tell me," Leo said, laughing a bit, "I'm not sure how many people would believe a sprout like you was working as a potion maker. On the other hand, that sounds exactly like Krait to hire the first person who answered his ad, regardless of age or experience. Besides," Leo considered her with careful eyes, "I don't think you're lying. Something about you seems trustworthy today."

"Just today?" Harry asked.

"No one is trustworthy all the time," Leo said.

"Isn't that what trustworthy means?" Harry shook her head, "If someone isn't trustworthy all the time, then they aren't trustworthy."

"But then no one would be trustworthy," Leo said blankly.

"Maybe no one is," Harry muttered.

Leo frowned, "What a negative way of looking at things. Where's your youthful sense of naïve optimism?"

"Hidden behind my sense of reality," Harry said, "We're off topic though. Ask your next question."

Leo pursed his lips, thinking hard, "Now that I know you're the potion brewer, I have more questions, not less. Hmm, what to ask? I know! What's your last name?"

Harry winced, "Should have seen that one coming."

"Yes, you should," Leo said unrepentantly, "Come on, tell me. I won't spread it around."

"Promise?" Harry looked imploringly at him, "You can't tell anyone. My parents don't know I have a summer job, much less one on Knockturn alley."

Leo frowned, "So no one knows where you go every day? What if something were to happen to you? That's not safe, Harry."

"My cousin knows where I am," Harry said.

"So you have cousins now, too?" Leo teased.

"One cousin," Harry said, "Only he's not really my cousin. We just grew up together, and his dad is like my uncle, so we call each other cousins, that's all. Because our fathers were practically brothers when they were young. Though…I guess technically we're related because my grandmother was his great aunt or something. It's too distant to really count."

"Interesting, but you haven't answered my question," Leo said, leaning forward, "I'm afraid if you pass on this one it will be most suspicious, Harry."

Harry swallowed, but really, what harm could it do? He already knew she was called Harry, and she didn't really have to pretend to be Rigel over the summer. Harry the girl liked potions too, after all. She'd just give him the usual cover story; she was Harry Potter, halfblood who attended AIM during the year, interested in Healing and Potions. Nothing complicated about it, except it felt complicated, because in reality she was Harry-Rigel-Potter-Black who dressed as a boy during the school year to masquerade as her pureblooded cousin at Hogwarts. Still, Leo didn't have to know anything about that. For Leo, she could be uncomplicated.

"My name is Harry Potter," she said, "Krait didn't ask for my full name when he hired me, so I didn't tell him. I was afraid he wouldn't hire me if he knew…" Harry shrugged uncomfortably.

"Knew…" Leo leaned back suddenly, his face slack with surprise, "Holy Merlin, you're a girl!"

Harry flushed as several patrons turned in their seats to look curiously at their table, "Leo! Quiet, will you?"

"I can't believe—you—" Leo blew out a breath and ran both hands roughly through his hair, "Harry Potter, of course. The only daughter of James and Lily Potter, Heir to the House of Potter. Black hair, green eyes. Your Uncle is Sirius Black, childhood best friend of James Potter, and your mother works for the private company that the patent office at the Ministry contracts out to, testing experimental magical inventions, including potions. No wonder you have access to a state-of-the-art potions lab."

Harry was taken aback, "You, um, know an awful lot about people you've never met."

"I know a lot about everyone," Leo said absently, staring at her without blinking, "I can see it now, kind of. I did think you were a little scrawny for a twelve-year-old boy. The short hair though…it threw me off, I admit. Usually I see clearer than most, but I guess that's what happens when you let your expectations run away with your common sense."

"Don't feel bad," Harry said comfortingly, "Nearly everyone assumes I'm a boy, unless they've known me forever, like Mr. Tate. I didn't want to tell Krait because he hired me thinking I was a boy. You probably already know, since your dad is the Aldermaster of the Guild, but the potions community can be a trifle…sexist at times."

"No kidding," Leo snorted, "Bunch of bigoted twits, barring a select few."

"Yeah," Harry said, "So, are you going to give me away?"

"Not even Krait knows you're a…" he lowered his voice, "Girl?"

Harry shook her head warily.

Leo laughed, "Good. Not that I think he'd fire you at this point, but now we're the ones keeping a secret from him. Serves him right. I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks, Leo" Harry said, "So has the shock set in yet?"

"Any minute now," Leo rubbed his chest theatrically, "Lucky I'm a young man or my heart would have stopped from all the surprises I'm getting in one sitting."

"You should probably forget about the last question, then," Harry said seriously, "It's not worth endangering your health, after all."

"Not a chance," Leo flashed even teeth at her, "I'm even more curious about you now, Harry."

"Don't be," Harry laughed weakly, "After all, you've already found out my best secrets, so everything else will be rather anti-climactic, I bet."

"Only one way to find out," Leo said cheerfully, "Last question: you said you were working for Krait to save money for something. What were you saving your money for?"

Harry tensed, "Pass."

Leo lost his grin and raised his brows incredulously, "What, seriously? You tell me all of that and you're passing on this?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly, "Sorry, Leo."

Leo nodded slowly, "It's your right to keep your lips zipped. Just strange, that's all. It is something illegal?"

"Is that your third question?" Harry asked evenly. She couldn't tell him she was going to buy an apartment for the school year because she wouldn't actually be in the apartment during the school year. Talk about suspicious.

Leo narrowed his eyes, "Yes. I want to know if what you're doing with your money is going to be dangerous or get you into trouble."

Harry thought about it, "What I'm doing with the money won't get me into trouble. It's perfectly legal. The reasons for it, though…maybe. I hope not, but I can't say it won't be bad if I get caught." She winced, "That's really all I can tell you, Leo. Sorry."

Leo waved her off, his face lightening though she noticed his eyes still looked a bit concerned, "It's enough, lass. Now, you should know that everything you've told me has only strengthened my reasoning for escorting you through Knockturn alley."

Harry groaned, "Leo—"

"Let's see," Leo said, ticking his fingers as he listed reasons, "Young, female, practically nobility, rich (on account of the nobility), weak (physically speaking of course, no offense), innocent, gullible—"

"I'm not gullible!" Harry protested.

"But you admit you're all those other things," Leo said quickly, "It's settled, then."

"Says who?" Harry muttered half-heartedly. She should have known that if Leo wasn't offended and horrified to discover the truth he would use it as an excuse to treat her like—like some sort of glass that couldn't be repaired with a repairing charm.

"Say's me," Leo said. He stood and collected their empty ice cream dishes and set them on the return tray, "Come on, Harry. It's about time I showed you something of my world."

Harry stood, following Leo to the door hesitantly, "Your world?"

"Just you wait, lass," Leo winked at her.

He led her back to Knockturn alley, one hand on her shoulder to guide her steps. They walked past the alley the Serpent's Storeroom was on, past a woman giving out fingernail samples, down to the far end of Knockturn alley, where it intersected with a street called Kyprioth Court, which was a long street with many branching alleys. The street dead-ended in a semi-circle, and that was where Leo seemed to be moving her toward.

Harry had never been so far into the heart of the Lower Alleys. She knew the streets behind Knockturn were the underbelly of Wizarding London—everybody knew that, and only the most confident or the most careless wandered the Lower Alleys without leave. Harry wondered idly which described she and Leo better, and stuck close to her taller friend as they wove their way along the street to the large inn that stood at the curved dead end of the street, a story higher than all the other buildings on Kyprioth Court.

Music played from inside the inn, and the lights from the windows beckoned cheerfully to them, for though it was mid-afternoon, the alley was shadowed beneath overhanging roofs that seemed to have been engineered for the very purpose of keeping out light. The sign above the door depicted a dragon rearing onto its hind legs, its claws extended and its mouth open.

"A dragon rampant?" Harry asked curiously, wrinkling her nose a bit. How odd.

"Why not?" Leo shrugged. He stepped lightly onto the front stoop of the inn and knocked thrice. The door swung open on its own and Leo swept Harry a formal bow, "Welcome, young Harry, to the Dancing Dragon."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the introduction, but entered the inn anyway. It was a warm, inviting sort of place. The first floor was large and open, littered with big wooden tables that told Harry the inn was probably a tavern as well. A lone mop made its way slowly across the floor with lazy flourishes. A narrow wooden staircase led upstairs, and behind the bar a big door to what must be the kitchens was propped open, letting warm, fragrant air blow out into the main room. At the moment there weren't many people there, just a group of three men and one woman who were sitting around the table closest to the unlit fireplace, but Harry could easily imagine the place filled with lively customers, all shouting and singing and carrying on. It didn't seem like the sort of place she'd always envisioned a bar down Knockturn would be—dark and dim and filled with shady half-vampire things. From the obvious age of the well-kept inn and its place of prominence on what looked like the main court of the Lower Alleys, Harry guessed that it was a place steeped in tradition, a staple to the community, much like Gringotts Bank was on Diagon Alley.

Leo closed the door behind them and called out a hearty greeting to the four people across the room, who had stopped their conversation and looked up when they noticed Harry and Leo's entrance. The group made to stand, but aborted the gesture halfway and instead sat down again. Harry thought she saw Leo make a hand-motion of some kind out of the corner of her eye, but couldn't be sure.

"Solom! Just the man I was looking for," Leo said, putting a hand between Harry's shoulder blades and guiding her toward the group.

The oldest man, who looked to be in his late forties (though you never could tell with wizards), bowed his head to Leo respectfully as he flicked his wand a final time at the mop across the room and stowed the short wand up his sleeve, "What can I be doing for you today, Highness?"

Harry turned disbelieving eyes on Leo, who ignored her look with the grace of one who had been ignoring other people's disbelief for years.

Leo pressed Harry into a seat next to the woman, who was dressed in tight red robes that accentuated her every curve. She was very pretty, and smiled kindly, if a bit curiously, at Harry when she sat. Leo took the seat opposite her, next to a stocky man with an impressive goatee, and addressed the older man, who was sitting on the other side of the woman in the red dress, once again.

"Did you send a potion recipe to Edgar the other day?" Leo asked casually.

"Sure did," Solom said, shrugging.

"Who passed it along for you?" Leo asked.

"It were Claw, Highness," Solom said, scratching his head, "Did the blighter not give it to Ed after all?"

"No he gave it," Leo said, "Only we reckon he gave Edgar a copy of the recipe, and took a little creative license in the copying, if you catch my meaning."

Solom furrowed his brows angrily, "What a measly little bastard."

The woman next to Harry clicked her tongue and put her hands over Harry's ears, frowning disapprovingly at Solom.

The older man just grunted, "Come off it, Rispah. If His Majesty sees fit to bring the lad here, he best be expecting his ears to burn a bit."

Leo grinned, "The lad doesn't mind, does he?"

Harry rolled her eyes at Leo, who clearly thought her boyish looks were a great joke now that he was in on it, and said, "Thank you, my lady, but I fear I am used to such language by now." That wasn't precisely true, but Harry didn't want to spend the afternoon with hands on her ears.

Rispah removed her hands, but not before ruffling Harry's hair playfully, "Hear that? I'm a lady." Her voice was husky and low. She shook her long red hair back and smiled widely.

The man across from Solom snorted. He was tall and broad shouldered, with thick brown hair and an easy smile, "If you're a lady, then I'm the Queen of Egypt."

"I think the lad said you were his lady," the man with the goatee teased, "Isn't that what you heard, Marek?"

"Come to think of it, that is what he said, Aled," Marek said thoughtfully, "What bold young friends our Highness has today."

"Though of course it is heartening to see that the youth of today are as confident and bold as ever," Aled chuckled, winking at Harry with amusement.

Harry blushed, but otherwise didn't react to the ribbing. She supposed she deserved it. Pureblood manners were certainly out of place in this crowd—they just made her look uppity and rather foolish. Still, if she was going to pretend to be a boy, then she'd be a boy who respected women. It was the least she could do for female kind.

Rispah caught sight of her flushed face and laughed lowly, "Now don't go teasing the boy for having something the lot of you could do with from time to time. Good manners ain't nothing to sneeze at."

"Well said, Rispah," Leo inclined his head to her, "But we are getting a bit off track."

"Well what do you expect when you bring such a lovely distraction?" Rispah chuckled, running her hands through Harry's hair once more. Harry was starting to feel like someone's prize pet. "Oh, go on then, Leo," Rispah waved a hand at him, "What's the problem then? Ed's no slouch at what he does. He surely caught the mistake right off if it was as significant as you're implying, so we add another minus to Claw's character report and be done with it."

Leo shook his head, "It's nothing so simple, I'm afraid. Edgar doesn't brew most of the potions he sells anymore. He contracts them out to three different potion brewers."

"Three?" Marek, the broad-shouldered man, spoke up, "Thought it was two."

"Naw, he's got a new one now—goes on and on about him," Aled said absently.

"Yes, he recently hired a third," Leo said, "And the point is that the recipe went straight to the new brewer, who didn't catch the mistake before the cauldron blew sky high."

Solom looked disturbed, "What on earth did Claw do to that recipe? That sounds like an assassination attempt—a pretty poor one, but there you are."

"He added chimera eyes," Leo said, "But we don't know who it was intended for—it could be Edgar himself or it could have been any one of the three brewers."

"Either way, Claw's over-stepped himself," Aled grunted, fiddling with his goatee agitatedly.

"It were only a matter of time," Marek said, leaning over the table to make his point, "We all know Claw's trouble. No one knows where he came from, but everyone knows what he's after."

The four of them shared a significant look that went completely over Harry's head. She wondered if it would be rude to say something, but realized that she'd never know if she didn't ask.

"Sorry, but who's Claw? And what does he want?" Harry asked, looking from face to face apologetically.

"Why should we tell you?" Aled raised an eyebrow challengingly at her.

Harry bristled unintentionally, "Seeing as it was my cauldron that man destroyed, either intentionally or not, I now have a rather invested interest in his purposes."

Aled chuckled heartily and the others joined in, smiling at Harry as though she were quite amusing to them.

"He's just teasing you, lad," Rispah said conspiratorially, "Aled likes to tease the new folk, he does."

"But surely you're not the new brewer Ed's been going on about?" Solom leaned past Rispah to stare incredulously at Harry, "He's been chortling to all his customers how he's got the best brewer in all the alleys working for him. Fast and reliable, he says, and the whole time it were a mite no bigger than an anthill? What a laugh." The older man grinned widely at her and pounded a fist on the table to express how funny he found this and Harry tried not to look put out at what a great joke she was to these people.

"Careful now, Solom," Leo said, smiling at Harry's disgruntled expression, "You don't want to hurt the boy's feelings. Harry here takes his potions very seriously."

"Not as seriously as Leo takes himself," Harry shot back. Before she could wince and apologize for snapping, the men at the table broke into loud guffaws and Rispah slapped her knee smartly.

"He's got you pegged, Leo," the lady said, shaking her head of long hair back, "Well done, little one. I daresay Leo deserved that."

Leo grinned, "There, doesn't he fit right in? I'd say the least we owe him is an explanation, since he's dragged into this mess already."

"Fair enough," Aled said, "Well as to your questions, Claw is a man who showed up in the Lower Alleys not ten months ago. He's meaner than a wild boar and trickier than a barrel of hinkypunks. He petitioned to join the Rogue, and of course we don't turn folk away without a good reason, but it's been clear from the start he don't really have an interest in bettering the Court."

"He don't follow the Code," Marek growled, "The scum keeps for himself what he should pay to the Rogue. He don't look out for the alley folk, and you mark my words he's sold out a man or two to the tracking dogs at the Ministry."

"And if that weren't enough," Rispah put in, "Claw's got his eye on Leo's job. Nothing wrong with that, of course—Marek alone has challenged Leo a fair few times, but Claw don't do nothing by the book. He hides in the shadows, waiting for a chance to stab us all in the back."

Harry blinked, "Okay, but honestly…I'm more confused than I was. Code? Court?"

Everyone turned to look exasperatedly at Leo, who shrugged a bit sheepishly, "I, ah, hadn't gotten the chance to tell him yet?"

Rispah rolled her eyes, "So of course you brought the lad here anyway. Poor thing, no wonder you're confused."

"And no wonder he calls you 'Leo,' Highness," Aled said.

"Would you all stop confusing him further?" Solom broke in, sighing, "Look, lad, it's like this. You know what the Lower Alleys are?"

"The alleys in Wizarding London located beyond Knockturn," Harry said, "A mix of business and residential properties, I think."

"The poor alleys," Rispah said tartly, "You can say it like it is. The Lower alleys are the wizarding underground. Home to the seedy parts of life no one likes to talk about. Everyone says it's naught but criminals and tramps, and everyone's silently grateful the disgraceful community is content to remain separate from the Wizarding whole for the most part. Aye, there's beggin and thievin and the like, make no mistake, but there's so much more." Rispah's face was alight with passion, and in it Harry could see a thousand stories she would probably never understand. "There's life in these alleys, lad. There's folk who spend their lives without two galleons to rub together and are happy despite it. This world, our world, is a place beyond blood and money, though there's plenty of the former spilt for the latter at times. It's about community, and family, and working and singing next to anyone who's got a ready smile and an open mind."

Harry stared up at the lady, this scarlet bird with such a lovely song, and thought that she would never understand life half as well as Rispah did.

Solom put a hand gently on Rispah's shoulder, "That was lovely, lass, but it don't really explain much about the way we work." Rispah smiled and gestured for Solom to get on with it then. "The truth of the matter is, the Lower Alleys and most folk in it don't really answer to any authority you've heard of. The Ministry and the Wizengamot have nothing to do with us—ashamed and in denial, they are—and we have as little as possible to do with them. Back before the Ministry and all that political nonsense we have nowadays, Wizarding Britain, like the rest of the civilized world, was ruled by a King. There was wizarding nobility, of course, who eventually became watered down into the most ancient and noble family houses you'd hear of today—the Malfoy's and the Bones', the Black's and the Goldentower's. With me so far?"

Harry nodded. She had known that the most wealthy and well-known houses were descendent from ancient nobility, and also that the practice of a Wizarding King had been abandoned after too many tyrants and subsequent uprisings had made the magical community unstable.

"Well, just as the nobles and middling classes had their King, we of the Lower Alleys had our King," Solom said, "Our King wasn't decided by birth and blood. He earned his crown by besting the other hopefuls in open combat."

"You mean free dueling?" Harry asked interestedly. Free dueling was mixed dueling. The fighters could rely on not just magic but potions, swords, knives, and hand-to-hand fighting as well, "I've heard of it, but never seen it done. It was banned from most official tournaments, wasn't it?"

Aled grinned, "Stick around long enough, lad, and you'll see it done. They can ban it all they want in their trumped up tourneys. It's tradition that the title of King is passed on by the outcome of open, or free, dueling combat. This is because part of the King's job is to defend his people. It's not so literal nowadays, of course, but so it stands."

"So what you're saying is that Leo is your…King?" Harry wasn't sure whether to laugh or frown, "I've seen him fight, so I guess I can see how it happened, but…aren't you a little young to be King?"

Leo grinned, "No rules about age, blood, race, or even sex—though I don't think we've ever had a woman King. Just Queens like Rispah here, who take care of the familial matters of Court."

"You're Queen?" Harry blinked up at Rispah, "Did you have to fight as well?"

Rispah laughed, "No, lad, the Queen is appointed by the King, though of course it must be someone who's been with the ladies of the Court a long time."

"Is that why you call him 'Leo' instead of 'Highness?'" Harry asked.

Rispah shook her head, "Nothing so formal. Leo's my younger cousin. I couldn't call him Highness with a straight face, considering I still remember changing his—"

"Yes, yes, Rispah," Leo broke in hastily, "I'm sure Harry doesn't want to hear about that."

"Oh, I don't know—" Harry grinned.

"Wouldn't you rather hear about Claw?" Leo suggested, his face flushing a bit at the laughter of his friends.

"I'd rather hear about this Code thing," Harry said, "It sounds important."

"It is," Marek said earnestly, "It's what holds all of us together."

"Us?" Harry clarified, "You mean everyone in the Lower Alleys?"

"The Court of the Rogue is all of us who make our living by our wits," Leo said [1], grinning, "The Rogue, you see, is just another name for the King down here. To keep him separate from the old Wizarding King, they called our King the Rogue or the King of Thieves. Of course, not everyone in the Court in a thief, and certainly not all those in the Lower Alleys work outside of the Ministry's Law, but those that make their lives here and pledge themselves to the Court must obey the thief's Code."

"So what does that entail?" Harry asked.

"Lot's of things," Marek said, "Part of the Code says that no one can be King without beating the previous King in open, single, combat, which means that a person can't take the Rogue's throne by intrigue or secrecy. It keeps the Court from splitting into factions and taking sides. The Court always sides with the King, so long as the King upholds the Rogue's Code."

"The Code also says none of us can betray another to the Ministry's Law. We have our own justice, which can't be satisfied by the Aurors coming in and hauling our people off," Aled explained, "It's also against the Code to go after someone's family to try and harm them indirectly. If you have a problem with someone, you must take it up directly with them."

Harry nodded slowly. A lot of what they said seemed sensible for the kind of life they led.

"The King is bound by the Code as well," Leo said seriously, "He has to keep track of and look after his people, good times or bad. When the Aurors raid the Lower Alleys, the King makes sure his people are protected, and when the Ministry taxes basic goods to raise money for one thing or another, the King has to make sure those goods are still available to the poorest of his folk…one way or another."

Harry thought for a moment. She still didn't really understand everything—like why Claw had changed the recipe in the first place, but she summed up what she did understand slowly, "So this Claw is breaking the Code, because he wants to be King, but doesn't want to challenge Leo directly?"

"Exactly," Rispah said, "The man's a leech, but without proof…well, it just won't do for the Court to turn away one of its own without solid enough reason. Claw can easily say that the recipe was already written like that when he got it, or that someone must have changed it after he'd handed it over. The plausible deniability is too high, you see?"

"But we'll watch him," Aled said, "We'll not trust him with Rogue's business after this, and he'll not get away with that stunt a second time. Slowly he'll dig himself into a pit he can't get out of. Then we'll banish him for good."

Leo stretched and sighed, "Well now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about something else."

"How about your new friend, Highness?" Marek looked over Harry appraisingly, "I'd heard rumors that you'd offered Rogue protection to a new kid, but I didn't imagine him so young." Marek grinned at Harry mischievously, "How'd you end up in such bad company, lad?"

Harry grinned back, "Ask Leo. He stalked me for about a month before I got tired of trying to get rid of him."

Leo sputtered and clutched at his chest in mock anguish, and Harry thought with amusement that he was not like any King she'd ever imagined meeting. It was surreal, in a way, to be sitting in the Dancing Dragon as if she was not all of those things that Leo's friends dismissed so readily—rich, descendent from nobility, educated, and upright. And yet, Harry suspected they all knew exactly what she was, and didn't care a lick. Like Rispah said, as long as she had an open mind they were content to take her as she was.

"Stalking is a little harsh," Leo said.

"That's true," Rispah said, "I hear it was more like Leo following the lad around like a lost puppy."

"Puppy?" Leo scoffed, "I saved the kid's life, you know."

"And to repay you the lad let you be his manservant, is that it?" Rispah laughed, "If he was a girl, I'd call you whipped, Leo."

"To be fair," Harry said, fighting a blush, "It was actually very kind of Leo to help me out like that. I wasn't very familiar with Knockturn when I started working for Mr. Krait, so it was lucky Leo was in the alley when he was, or I might be kidney-less."

"Kidney-less?" Aled raised an eyebrow.

Leo shook his head wryly, "He wasn't after your kidney, Harry. He was going to—actually, I'll tell you when you're older."

Harry scowled, "Either way, I still owe you quite a debt, Leo."

"Our Highness doesn't often collect his debts," Aled said, shooting Leo a look that made Harry think it was an old disagreement between the two of them.

"In that case, I'll have to decide the price and pay it by myself," Harry said, grinning, "Maybe I'll repay your kindness by following you around for a couple of months."

Leo laughed, "I'd like to see you try, Harry. I'm not an easy person to follow. Though, I might make an exception for you."

Harry opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't think of anything to say to that, and shut it again instead.

"Well, that explains a lot," Rispah said, smirking.

Leo stopped smiling and backtracked quickly, "Not what I meant, cuz."

"Even so," Rispah said in her husky voice, batting her brown eyes at Leo teasingly, "It makes sense if I consider things from that direction."

"What makes sense?" Marek asked innocently.

"Our King's infamously picky pallet," Rispah said airily, "Turns out I've been offering him the wrong sort of dish."

"You certainly have not!" Leo exclaimed, "Merlin save me from nosy subjects. I'll not have you accusing me of preying on young Harry's virtue."

Solom choked and Harry flushed a bright scarlet that would have done Ron Weasley proud.

"Is that what you're going on about?" Aled scrubbed a hand over his goatee and narrowed his eyes at Rispah, "You keep your claws to yourself, you meddling matchmaker. His Majesty can find a lass in his own good time."

"Thank you, Aled," Leo said, "I knew there was a reason you were my favorite."

"Now I know the reason, too," Rispah said saucily, waggling her eyebrows.

"Are you now going to make disparaging remarks about myself in connection with every male of my acquaintance?" Leo asked forlornly.

"I think old Solom is safe from your designs," Rispah grinned.

"You keep me out of this," Solom mumbled.

Leo slumped disheartenedly in his seat, "Traitors."

"So the whole King thing is pretty much a formality, huh?" Harry observed.

"Pretty much, yeah," Marek grinned.

"Doesn't stop you challenging him for it every three months, Swift," Solom pointed out.

"Swift?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, that's nice," Rispah frowned, "We never even introduced ourselves. I'm Rispah Cooper, cousin to Leo here on his mother's side, and Queen of the ladies of the Rogue."

Harry smiled, "Pleased to meet you, my lady. I'm Harry."

"Just Harry?" Marek snorted, "You don't have to hide your last name—we all know you're one of those rich nobbs' kids. It don't matter to us, though. I'm Marek Swiftknife—hence the Swift."

Harry nodded, "Hello. And yes, it's just Harry. My parents don't know I have a job this summer, and it can't get back to them if no one knows who they are."

"Fair enough," Aled said, "I'm Aled Flint, the Armorer for this bunch of ninnies."

"Any relation to Marcus Flint?" Harry asked curiously.

Aled shrugged, "Sure, he's my cousin Herbert's son. You know him?"

Harry shook her head, "My cousin goes to school with him."

Aled nodded, "Not surprised. Good school, Hogwarts."

"So I hear," Harry said neutrally.

"Well I'm Solom," Solom said, "Just Solom. I run this inn. You ever get into trouble on the alleys and Leo ain't with you, run straight here, right?"

Harry smiled, "Thank you, sir, I will."

Solom waved a hand at her, grimacing, "Just Solom, lad, please."

"Don't worry," Marek grinned, "We'll scrub you of those cumbersome manners before long."

Taking a chance, Harry said, "If it's anything like the sort of scrubbing you do regularly, I think I'd be better off without it." She eyed Marek's dirty shirt and breeches meaningfully and the others laughed appreciatively.

"Well now that he's insulted Marek, it's official," Rispah laughed, slinging an arm around Harry companionably, "This lad's one of us."

"Why do you think I brought him here?" Leo asked smugly, "I knew he belonged the first time I met him."

Harry raised a skeptical brow, "Whatever you say, Majesty."

Leo frowned, "Now, now, none of that. These jokers can call me that if it makes them feel like they're posh or something, but I won't hear it from you."

"You don't make them call you that?" Harry asked curiously,

Leo scowled, "Of course not. Most of my other subjects do, out of respect, but I've specifically told my friends not to bother with it. They do it just to annoy me, I think."

"Not our fault it works so well, though, is it?" Aled chuckled.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in the Dancing Dragon. Other members of the Court came and went from the inn, most of them open and friendly, interested to meet the kid their King had been squiring about Knockturn. Harry still couldn't believe her friend Leo, the laid back son of the Potions Guild Aldermaster, was unofficial royalty of the Lower Alleys. How did she manage to find the most conspicuous people to become acquainted with? It certainly explained why Krait always treated Leo so strangely. Harry wondered if Leo was a thief, too. She didn't approve of thieving, but then again she could always afford to pay for things, so was her opinion really valid? She also wondered if Leo's parents knew what their son did during the day. She supposed being home schooled allowed for a flexible schedule, but surely Leo didn't have time to both run the Rogue and take full-time lessons.

Then again, Harry herself had two separate lives, didn't she? Perhaps it wasn't so fantastic a thought after all.

Leo walked her back to the Leaky Cauldron once the dinner rush started at the Dancing Dragon. Harry's brain was spinning with everything that had happened since she woke up that morning.

"What are you thinking about, Harry?" Leo asked as they passed the well-lit bookshop.

"Just how much we've learned about each other today," Harry said, "It's a bit overwhelming."

Leo grinned down at her, "We are a perfect pair, aren't we?"

Harry laughed, something she'd been doing a lot that day, "I don't know about that."

"No, really," Leo said, "We both have so many secrets, and yet are completely surprised when we find out the other has secrets of their own."

Harry flattened her hair absent-mindedly, "That's certainly true. I can't believe you're the Rogue. I didn't even know what the Rogue was!"

"Oh, yeah? Well how do you think I felt when I found out you were a girl?" Leo shook his head, "Kyprioth was playing me for a fool."

Kyprioth, Harry suddenly remembered, was an ancient god of trickery. She smiled, the Dancing Dragon being on Kyprioth Court made a lot of sense.

"Thanks for not telling your friends who I was," Harry said, "I really prefer to keep a low profile."

Leo shrugged, "Yeah, good luck with that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, "I'm a very low-key sort of person, you know."

"Impossible," Leo said simply, "Sorry Harry, but you're too interesting. Too…I don't know, something, to remain anonymous. People notice you, Harry, and the world seems to change suddenly when you're around, as if Magic herself was altering it to an unseen purpose. I bet you often find yourself in the middle of things without realizing how you got there, am I right?"

Harry looked away from Leo's knowing gaze, "Well, I'm trying to be low-key, okay?"

"Try all you like," Leo said, "I just don't think it's going to do much good. I have a feeling about it, and my gut's usually right."

Harry ignored her friend's words. Sure she had bad luck in the past when it came to getting caught up in messes not her own making, but this year was going to be different. Harry made a promise to herself then and there that this year she wasn't going to get involved in anything complicated or mysterious. She was going to spend time with her friends, write to Sirius, and generally just do what she came to Hogwarts to do—learn Potions.

When they reached the Leaky Cauldron, Harry said good night, but Leo hesitated. He looked very seriously into her eyes and said, "Why do I get the feeling I'm still missing something about you?"

Harry looked steadily back, "I don't pretend to know all of your secrets yet, Leo. Don't assume you know all of mine."

"But you'll tell me one day, won't you?" Leo asked. He looked frustrated, like he was halfway through with an important task but had been stopped in his tracks for a reason he couldn't understand.

"Maybe," Harry said, looking away from those bright eyes uneasily, "I'm still deciding if meeting you was a good thing."

Leo grinned slowly, "Liar. You're just scared because you know that it was."

Harry didn't say anything, but Leo didn't seem to need her to.

"That's okay, lass, you be scared all you want. But one day you will tell me everything."

Leo ruffled her hair once more and turned back down the alley. Harry watched him go, throat stuck closed with something that she assured herself was not the fear Leo spoke of. What did she have to be afraid of? Leo might be confident that he could pry her secrets from her some day, but Harry knew better. She could be friends with Leo, like him as a person, even, but she couldn't trust anyone besides Archie, and that would never change.

[HpHpHp]

[end of chapter two].

A/N: So there you have it, hopefully this will tide you all over until the next big chapter comes out. I'm devoting one day this week to answering each and every review I've gotten since I last replied—promise, though I can't remember exactly who I've replied to, so if I do your review twice—sorry ^^. Thanks for reading, next time the school year starts.