Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.

A/N: This part is rather large, and I thought about cutting it in two but decided against it, despite it covering a large range of major things… Just thought I'd warn you. And say goodbye to the canon...a lot of change is in order. -big grin-

O, and just sos you know, a minor spoiler concerning book 7, just listing the horcruxes. Enjoy.


Book 1 – Part 11: Formation

Draco gasped as the doors opened for Ron and Neville, pulling a floating Hagrid behind them. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout ran past his momentarily stunned frame, going to the two boys and large unconscious man.

Draco ran down the front steps soon after shaking himself, joining the professors.

"Professor Dumbledore is coming," McGonagall told them, helping them take Hagrid down the hall, Malfoy now at Hagrid's side, taking hold of the large man's stiff arm to assist as well.

"What happened?" Draco asked, his voice shaky, afraid to learn what had done this to Hagrid, but needing to know.

"Quirrell, it was Quirrell and this…this thing with him. A face," Ron said, adrenaline the only thing enabling him to walk and talk at the same time at the moment.

"Where's Potter?" McGonagall asked as they approached the infirmary.

"Last thing we heard was Hermione scream, 'Expelliarmus', and Harry yelling for her to run," Ron answered.

Neville's face was solemn and focused as he remained silent.

They quickly entered the infirmary, and after placing Hagrid on the bed, Neville and Ron quickly ran back out, knowing the stone still needed protection—Quirrell still might be coming.

Ignoring the Professors' shouts to stop, they continued out, Draco, Flitwick and McGonagall on their heals.

"Where are you going?" Draco shouted breathlessly as they ran towards the entrance staircase that led to the corridor that went to the all the other staircases.

"Third-floor corridor," Neville answered, just as the entry doors burst open again, a grand centaur at the threshold, a trembling Hermione on his back.

"Hermione! Where's Harry?" Ron asked, running towards her, the centaur gently lowering himself for her to get off as McGonagall went forward to search for injuries.

"I—I don't know!" she sobbed. "It was him! Vol—Voldemort!"

The Professors gasped.

"Ha-Harry told me to run! And he-he…"

McGonagall pulled Hermione into her embrace, inwardly as scared as she was.

"I sho-shouldn't 've left him," Hermione cried.

Ronan, the centaur, turned suddenly, his hooves hitting the stone and causing the others to look up to see what had caused his movement.

"They come," he stated, stepping aside to allow the Professors, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Draco to see the grounds in front of the school, and who were coming.

Dumbledore and Snape were running alongside a floating Harry, half a dozen centaurs galloping alongside and behind them as sentries.

"Minerva! Potion—Vena Resarcio!" Dumbledore shouted, seeing Minerva and the others staring down at them from the entrance.

At that, Minerva turned and ran ahead, leaving the others in the entry. Somehow not skidding on the stone, she dashed into the infirmary, quickly digging through the items on the shelves of ointments and potions, searching for the Artery Repair Potion, alerting Pomfrey, who was currently working on Hagrid, that the worst was about to come.

Snape and Dumbledore, a suspended Harry between them, entered the infirmary soon after, the doors magically shutting behind them, leaving Flitwick, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Draco outside to wonder what was happening beyond the enchanted doors... Dumbledore's fear filled order to Minerva ringing in their ears…

- - -

Draco stared at his hands, sitting beside Neville, Ron between Hermione and Neville. They were sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall across the infirmary doors.

Flitwick had attempted to get them to leave, to go to their common rooms, but didn't even finish his first sentence when he decided to quit and let them be.

Ron looked up at the doors, as if he was trying to look through them.

It had been nearly an hour, and they could still hear urgent movements coming from the room…hushed spells, murmured incantations…

Flitwick and the other Professors not in the room were just as clueless and worried as the students sitting against the wall.

After a few more minutes, the rest of the Professors left to busy themselves in preparing the day that was about to start for the students who were still sleeping soundly in their beds.

Draco lifted his eyes up to the doors after having fidgeted with his hands for a time, becoming lost in his thoughts.

What had happened? Ron and the others had told him and the professors everything, but they couldn't answer what had happened after they had left. The centaurs had told them Quirrell was dead, but said little about Harry, and no one knew, save for Harry, what had happened after he had told Hermione to run.

And what of Voldemort? What had he done to Potter, and where was he now?

What kind of man, if one could call him that, lets his follower die so he can escape?

Draco shifted his thoughts, realizing he had never seen Snape in such a state before today, he had never seen his eyes in such a terrifyingly steady focus, his lips moving so fast, muttering spells no one could hear, passing his wand over Potter's limp body during the journey to the infirmary.

The silence around Draco and the others was deafening as the sound beyond the doors stilled, but the doors remained closed…

Was Potter going to die? Was he, Draco, going to lose what Snape had called 'a worthy Gryffindor'? Was he about to lose a friend he could have had?

At that thought, something suddenly snapped inside of him. A recognition of something he should have seen a long time ago. Whether Potter made it or not, he had to make a choice now. He had options, as Potter had said earlier in the year, and only he could decide which to take. He had to decide now, was he going to go the route of Power and 'waste his time' like his father, or was he going to become more than he was by choosing differently?

The door opened…

Draco and the others quickly stood as McGonagall and Sprout slowly stepped out, shutting the doors behind them.

They looked wary and exhausted, and just stood there for a moment, looking at Harry's friends staring uncertainly at them, waiting to be told what was happening.

Draco stared up at McGonagall, trying to catch her eyes, but before he could, several other Professors came running up, including Professor Flitwick.

McGonagall finally found her voice.

"We've gotten the curse under control, and have done as much as we can in repairing the damage," McGonagall said, her voice in a forced calm.

"What kind of curse was it? What's the damage?" Hermione asked, her eyes red from recent muffled crying.

"It was Dark Magic, and as I do not know the exact curse, I cannot say. As for the damage, Potter has sustained internal injuries," McGonagall said, her voice attempting to hide her emotions, but failing.

"Is he–is he going to be okay?" Neville asked, the four of them stepping around McGonagall and Sprout.

"We don't know yet," McGonagall said honestly. "The Headmaster, Professor Snape, and Madam Pomfrey are seeing if there is anything else that can be done. All we can do now is wait."

- - -

The word of what had happened hours before sunrise had spread throughout all of the residents of Hogwarts, and as everyone entered the Great Hall for breakfast, a wariness came over all.

Neville, Ron, and Hermione sat quietly together, too withdrawn in their own thoughts to even notice the hushed voices around them. Many of the students had heard little bits and pieces of what had happened, especially the part about how Draco Malfoy had been given the password into Gryffindor Tower to alert McGonagall about something happening in the Forbidden Forest.

Several other things were quietly buzzing over the hall as everyone got settled, but no one knew exactly what had happened. And finding that Professor Snape, Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Quirrell were gone ignited even more curiosity.

Ron's eyes wandered to the Slytherin table to find Draco, his two buddies just sitting silently on either side of him, staring down onto his plate.

Ron's hatred for the Slytherin had been slowly melting over the term, thanks to Harry's influence, and now, instead of seeing a Malfoy, he was seeing Draco, just Draco. And since Draco was no longer poking fun or spitting insults at him, Ron decided to let the past be forgotten, or at least forgiven.

Hermione took in a shaky breath as Neville just sat unnaturally still beside her.

"Ron, do you know what's going on?" Dean asked. "Where's Harry?"

"Infirmary," Ron stated, not really knowing who he was answering, just answering.

Several other people, having heard his answer leaned in to ask questions, but thankfully for Ron, Dumbledore stood up, and got everyone's attention by his somber expression.

The Great Hall went silent, all eyes on the man who was currently showing every year of his age. The students glanced uneasily at each other, knowing that whatever had happened before they had woken up was serious.

"Before any more rumors or inquiries are made with what has happened, let me tell you the truth. By the actions made by Mr. Harry Potter and four other students, Hagrid's life was saved last night, and a powerful magical item was prevented from falling into Voldemort's possession."

Several people gasped, but quickly refocused onto the Headmaster.

"Lord Voldemort had attached himself to Professor Quirrell, and both had been set on getting this item, which has now been destroyed. Voldemort has been forced away, due to the efforts made by Mr. Potter, but this was not done without sacrifice. Mr. Potter is in the infirmary. Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey have done all that they can, but for right now, all we can do is to wait.

"Hagrid is in the infirmary as well, and is thankfully recovering. I would appreciate you all to go about your normal routines; if there is pertinent news, I will tell you."

The students before him were dumbfounded, well, save for the four, well six (counting Crabbe and Goyle), students who knew the full story.

The following days went by in a kind of haze. It didn't take long for the whole school to know everything that had happened. Once it was discovered who the four students were who helped Potter, the school was granted further knowledge of the events by them, mainly Ron, who told to just shut them up, figuring the truth was better than their made up tales—though, not by much.

Hagrid was released later on the first day. He was ordered to go and rest, and everyone was told not to disturb him.

By the second day, it was common knowledge that Draco and his two pals now hung out with the three Gryffindors by the infirmary, waiting to be let in, or to be told of any news on Potter's condition.

They had only briefly been allowed to visit Potter's sleeping form on the end of the second day. It was good to see that he was in fact alive, but knowing that he was still not well and seeing the Professors' worried faces did little to quell their worry.

By the third day, there were hushed rumors going around about Potter's condition. Everyone of course knew it was due to Dark Magic, but no one could comprehend the seriousness of the situation.

Professor Snape was rarely seen, and when he was, he was seen hurriedly going to or from the infirmary with old parchment or bottles of potions, most of which he had gotten from the dungeons. Everyone knew not to stop him to ask questions, and only the four students who had participated with Potter in stopping the Dark Lord ever received a glance from him in passing.

Coming once again into the corridor which led to the infirmary, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Draco, and his two friends (who had for some reason been accepted to join the worried group), stopped.

Professor McGonagall had just stepped out of the infirmary and was going towards them.

"P-professor?" Neville asked as she approached.

"He's still asleep. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape are with him now. I think you will be able to visit him after dinner if you would like though," she said, looking at both the Gryffindors and Slytherins before her.

"Thanks, Professor," Draco muttered, his eyes glancing past her to the closed doors of the infirmary.

McGonagall sighed, patting Draco and Ron on the shoulders before going by them, cutting between this odd group of friends, a group she would have never thought possible.

- - -

Professor Snape eased himself into the chair across the occupied bed, his eyes sore from keeping them open for so long, his feet welcoming the break from dashing back and forth through the corridors, and his hands mildly upset with him for making them stir so many cauldrons in such a short amount of time.

He watched the boy's chest rise and fall, the child's eyes stubbornly staying closed. There was nothing else Severus could do now, it was now up to the boy—potions and spells could only go so far.

Snape had seen Potter's friends a couple times during the past few days, each of them just as concerned as he was, though he did more to hide his emotions.

The Headmaster was sitting on the bed beside Potter's, every one of his years being shown on his face, before bowing his head into his hands. Snape slowly exhaled, seeing and feeling the anguish of the Headmaster, before closing his eyes for a short rest.

- - -

He heard breathing, two people in the room with him, just breathing.

Where was he? What had happened? Why did his chest feel as if he had been hit by a sledgehammer?

He assessed the rest of his body, finding no other injuries, save for his throbbing chest, and decided it was time to open his eyes.

White, a white room.

The infirmary, he reasoned.

He trailed his eyes across the ceiling, down the wall along the blurry window, and stopped upon a fuzzy sleeping man across from him. Even without his glasses, he knew it was Professor Snape. He would know that dark cloak, dark hair, and dominant posture anywhere, even if the man was asleep.

Well, that's one of the people I'm hearing, who is the oth—

He began to turn his face, only to stop suddenly as the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore shifted into view.

"Good Afternoon, Harry," he whispered, giving him his glasses to put on.

Harry was startled to feel relief and intense joy ebb from the old man, feeling his old weathered hand upon his small shoulder.

However, after this feeling passed, everything that had happened immediately came back to him.

His first thoughts went to his friends. Were they okay? Did they save Hagrid? Did they protect the stone? Where were they now? Where was Garlic Head and Voldemort?

Fearing the worst, Harry moved his hand and grabbed Dumbledore's arm, trying to sit up while sputtering out questions.

"Whathappened? Aremyfriendsokay? Isthestonesafe? Where'sQuirrell?" barely pausing between his questions and ignoring the pain in his chest as Dumbledore tried to calm him and prevent him from sitting up.

"Calm yourself, dear boy, everything is alright. Your friends are all safe, the stone has been destroyed, and Quirrell is dead."

"Dead? But Voldemort!—" Harry began, no longer fighting to sit up, and barely noticing Snape who was now awake and quickly approaching the other side of the bed.

"Voldemort escaped, and because of that, Quirrell died," Dumbledore said.

"He killed his servant?" Harry asked, though, it was barely a question, more like a horrified statement, a known truth, as if he knew he shouldn't be surprised, but was anyway.

Dumbledore nodded.

"How long have I been here?" Harry asked.

"Three days, Potter," Snape said.

Harry turned his head toward Snape and found his tired dark eyes. Harry, too drained to fight the on coming memory, let it come.

Severus looked up at him, looking into his eyes, something that few of his servants ever dared do. Snape's eyes showed vague signs of exhaustion.

"Good job, you serve me well."

"Thank you, Milord," Severus said, bowing low and backing away.

"Potter? Are you alright?" Snape asked, his eyes actually revealing concern.

This confused Harry immensely. Whose side was he really on? But the more he looked into the dark eyes of the man who he had been certain had hated him at the start of the year, the more he was certain of the answer.

Harry swallowed and nodded, before looking back to Dumbledore.

"What happened?" he asked.

They told him what Ron and the others had said, and then told him what they had seen and done when they got to him. They continued by telling him what injuries he had suffered, and of the curse Quirrell had used, it being one that attacked the arteries and blood vessels. Dumbledore told him why Quirrell was burned when he touched him and continued by telling him how they had worked diligently to repair the damage and reverse the curse.

"So I'm alright now?" Harry asked them.

"Yes, though you will need to stay here a little while longer," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked down at the white sheets, placing his hand softly on his chest, and gently letting it glide across the cloth.

I could have died… At that moment, Voldemort wanted nothing more than for me to die. He wanted me to die more than he wanted the stone…Why???

"Now, Mr. Weasley said something about you having, I believe he said, 'a vision thingy' that told you Hagrid was in trouble. Could you tell us what you saw exactly?" Dumbledore asked, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry glanced over at Snape, not knowing how much he knew, and wondering how much he should say. He still didn't want to tell Dumbledore about the memories, but this wasn't about the memories, this was…actually, what was this?

"Anything you tell me, you can say to Professor Snape. Unless you truly feel you would rather only tell me," Dumbledore said softly.

"I…"

How much should I say? Should I tell him everything about what has been happening involving Quirrell? Does it matter now?

Finally, after a pause in thought, he made his decision.

"Over the past year I've been getting these flashes from Quirrell…"

"'Flashes'?" Snape asked.

"Yes, since the troll. I've been getting flashes of a red stone and a unicorn. Now I know I was seeing what Quirrell had done, or was thinking about doing."

"The stone?" Snape asked, his tone unreadable.

"Uh…yeah, the Sorcerer's Stone…After seeing a couple flashes of it, I uh…"

His voice trailed off. He didn't want to lie, but he also didn't want to get Hagrid in trouble.

"It's alright, Harry. Hagrid told me a few days ago before he left the infirmary that he told you," he said gently. "So, these flashes, when did you see them?"

"When I looked in his eyes…for the most part," he answered.

"Legilimency," Snape breathed, showing a glimpse of surprise.

"Yes, Severus. Mr. Potter is a natural Occlumens and Legilimens."

Dumbledore leaned forward, closer to Harry.

"Harry, what do you mean, 'for the most part'?"

"After the whole thing with the troll, and when we were in your office, while my friends were telling you what had happened, I was seeing him…well, seeing through his eyes, I saw a forest and a unicorn."

Dumbledore nodded. "I thought there was something more going on than you just trying to calm your mind. Now that I think about it, after you slew the troll and we came in, you saw something then as well, correct?"

"Yeah, the stone. But even before then, I didn't like Gar—I mean, Quirrell."

From the corner of his eye, Harry could have sworn he saw a ghost of a smile on Snape, but it quickly vanished.

"Did anything else happen with Quirrell that I should know?" Dumbledore asked after a moment. "Particularly concerning the broom incident during your first Quidditch game?"

"Did Hagrid tell you about that part?" Harry asked.

"What part?"

Clearly the old geezer was going to play dumb, but Harry knew he knew, at least that Harry had been mentally bombarded by Quirrell during the match.

"He used Legilimency to try and help me fall from the broom, nearly worked before I decided I had had enough and pushed back."

Dumbledore smiled at that.

"What did you do, Potter?" Snape asked, since it seemed the Headmaster already knew the answer, and wasn't going to ask.

"I pushed out a memory of my own. My memory of seeing the killing curse hitting me. Got him out of my head real quick."

Dumbledore nodded approvingly, Snape attempted and failed to mask his shock.

"Well, if you ever experience flashes from someone again, or experience anything else that you don't understand, or feel is important, please tell me.

"And I apologize, Harry. Hagrid had told me of your suspicions, but with what I knew, and the circumstances of everything, I could not risk that man disappearing from my sight."

Harry could see and feel the old man's sincerity, and understood the man's previous choices and actions, he just wished this whole thing could have been prevented from the start.

"Potter, you wouldn't happen to know anything about Quirrell's cloak catching on fire, would you?" Snape asked, his previous shock having passed.

Harry grinned. "That was Hermione. She saw what was happening, went over there and took care of it."

Snape raised his eyebrows, surprised and amused.

"Well, Harry, do you have any questions?" Dumbedore asked.

"Um, I do have a few that are bugging me, now that I think about it."

"Ask away, I will answer them if I can," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"Why didn't Quirrell and Voldemort run to the castle and try to get the stone or do something else? Why attack me at all? It seemed like a whole waste of time, I mean, he could have tried to escape, but instead, he just went after me. And Voldemort seemed pretty adamant about killing me. Doesn't make much sense. Why does Voldemort want me dead so bad? And why did he come after me that night?"

Snape leaned back, not about to get in the middle of this, he would watch from the sidelines.

Dumbledore sighed, appearing defeated.

"I cannot answer that right now, the truth is too dangerous for you to know at the moment. I will tell you when you are ready."

"Isn't it dangerous for me not to know?" Harry asked.

He didn't quite understand it, but a very large part of him was wanting, demanding, to know the answer to this.

"Yes, but not as dangerous as it would be for you to know the truth right now."

Harry looked down. A part of him wasn't surprised. How could he expect Dumbledore to share answers when he himself was keeping secrets?

Harry blinked, a flash of a memory passing through his mind.

"Milord…" a voice said behind him. He was sitting in a large chair, facing the fire.

"You are sure, Severus?" he asked.

"Yes. The oracle prophesied: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."

Harry calmly exhaled, not revealing to either men that he had just seen something.

What the heck was that? He asked himself. Whatever that was, I'm keeping it to myself, or at least until I've had time to think. Don't need them to think I'm having delusions right now.

"Well, I am sure your friends would like to see you, Harry," Dumbedore said, standing up and allowing Harry to see the stack of gifts, cards, and candy beyond where Dumbledore had been sitting.

Seeing his face, Dumbledore smiled. "Tokens from your friends and admirers," he said, before leaving with Snape and getting his friends.

- - -

"Harry, that is amazing," Ron said. "A part of me almost feels sorry for Garlic Head."

Harry had just finished telling them what he remembered from the fight, and some of the discussion he had with Snape and the Headmaster.

"I'm not," Hermione said. "He made his choice, and sealed his own fate."

Neville and the others (including Draco and his buds) looked at her oddly, surprised at her ferocity.

"It is sad, I'll admit that," she continued, a little more softly. "But that man made his choice. I'm not going to feel bad for an evil man."

Harry nodded, agreeing with her.

Draco and Goyle were sitting quietly near the foot of Harry's bed. Ron and Hermione were to his left (Draco directly beside them), and Neville and Crabbe were to Harry's right.

"So, he's gone?" Draco asked after a moment of thoughtful silence.

Harry focused onto Draco, who was at the left corner of his bed.

"For now," Harry replied.

"He was never dead, was he?" Draco asked quietly.

"No, as he told me, he is 'Mere shadow and vapor…' His soul is still here. He is not dead."

"You mean, he can still come back?" Neville asked.

"With my Horcruxes, I am immortal…I cannot die," his voice hissed proudly.

Harry's mind was then quickly whammed with several images.

A black book with the initials: T.M. Riddle.

A locket with a Slytherin 'S' on it.

A ring with odd scratch marks on it.

Nagini, the snake.

A kind of blue and silver crown.

And a cup with a badger on it.

"Harry? You alright? You sort of phased out for a sec," Ron said, giving his shoulder a gentle shake.

"Yeah, sorry, was thinking," he said, recovering quickly.

Sort of sad how I'm getting used to these things.

"About what?" Neville asked.

Harry's eyes passed over them all, not understanding why he had seen those items, or what Horcruxes were, but knowing it was important. His eyes fell upon the three Slytherins before him, his mind going over what he had seen, and knowing Voldemort could and would return. He was too powerful and evil not to.

What did these items have to do with these horcrux things? Were they horcruxes? Did they belong to Voldemort? What were they for? What was Harry supposed to do about them? Did these things, as the memory had suggested, make Voldemort 'immortal'?

Harry's friends looked at him in wonder, eagerness, and hidden concern, watching the Boy Who Lived inwardly decide a course of action.

If, no, when, Voldemort returned, they would need to be prepared. When Voldemort returned, he would no doubt go after Harry. Even without that confusing memory mentioning an obscure prophecy, it was easy to see that Voldemort had a vendetta against him.

And when he comes, my friends will be in danger, and Draco and the other Slytherins will probably be expected to follow…there will be more Luciuses, more Death Eaters… NO, they have a right to choose, they don't need to become murders…

I will give them a choice. They do not need to follow Hatred and Evil…

The reason why the Slytherins are hated and assumed to be evil is because no one has given them a chance to prove otherwise… Well I'm going to change that.

Harry knew what a risk he was taking, he knew who their parents were, and what it may mean for all of them whichever choice they made, but as Hagrid had said a while back, they have a choice, so Harry was going to give them a chance to choose.

"Voldemort will come back," he stated suddenly, the Slytherins cringing at the Dark Lord's name. "The four of us," he said, motioning to Hermione, Ron, Neville, and himself, "have seen him and his evil, and have lived to tell about it. He ran away and let his servant die. And though this might be blunt and probably seems sudden, we need you to make a choice now… Are you with us, or are you another Quirrell?"

Ron, Hermione, and Neville stared in shock at Harry's sudden directness.

What is he thinking? He's still in the infirmary for goodness sake, couldn't this have waited? Hermione and the others asked themselves.

"Draco, Crabbe, Goyle—are you my friends?"

Crabbe and Goyle glanced at Draco, who was staring hard at Harry.

Draco suddenly stood up; Ron and Hermione backed away slightly as Draco moved closer to Harry's side.

Draco extended his hand.

"Friends."

Harry looked into his eyes, finding fierce honesty and loyalty there, and firmly took hold of his hand.

A split second later, Crabbe and Goyle shot up, appearing on either side of Draco.

"You have our friendship as well," Crabbe and Goyle grunted, their shoulders straight and proud, their eyes revealing an allegiance that matched Draco's.

This was mildly surprising to the Gryffindors, both of Draco's pals barely ever spoke a word, let alone a whole sentence, and to speak with such conviction was not a little thing.

This year had changed them; it had changed them all.

Ron and Hermione went to the other side of the bed with Neville so that there were now three Slytherins to Harry's left, and three Gryffindors to his right.

"This is so cool and weird," Hermione blurted out. "We should do something to make this official."

Draco looked up at her thoughtfully.

"The formation of a mighty force. A group of Gryffindors and Slytherins, united," Draco whispered, recalling his discussion with Snape, knowing the man was right and that this was the start of that force.

"Alright, I have an idea, everyone take out your wands," Hermione said.

They did so, not really knowing what she was planning, especially since they were in the infirmary.

"I read about magical oaths and that kind of thing. We should make one," Hermione said.

"Sounds interesting, but is it just words, or is there something more to them?" Goyle asked.

"There are benefits, I've read that oaths or pledges for a group forms a special link between them. It said that if they use magic together, it will be more easily joined. Can't hurt, especially if Voldemort does come back."

"Good thinking, 'Mione," Harry said, Draco and the others looking equally pleased.

"Okay, hmm, let me think." They let her think, before she nodded. "Alright, how is this so far?:

"Together we Gryffs and Slyths will forge a Mighty Force

"With trust and undying allegiance in each other, we will lead

"As One we will march against our Foes

"We are a Formation…"

"Hmm, I think we could add to that," Draco said, thinking.

"We are a Formation of Defenders

"We are…"

"We need a name," Neville said, Draco pausing.

"Yeah, we do," Harry said, thinking. "How 'bout, the Guardians of Light?" Harry asked finally.

"Yeah, I like that," Ron said, the others giving a nod.

"So in Latin we are the Custosae de Lux," Hermione said.

"Okay, how do we do this then?" Draco asked, holding his wand up.

"Harry needs to lead us in saying it," she said, looking to Harry.

"Alright," Harry said, looking beyond them, making sure they were still alone. "So we are really making this pledge; we are making this, this kind of order?"

"Yeah, I guess we are," Hermione said, a little surprised herself. "Happened a little fast, huh?"

Had she just unintentionally led the creation of a special organization?

"This is awesome, we're like an anti-Voldemort group," Neville said.

"Yeah…yeah, I guess we are," Draco said.

"Guys," Harry began, looking at the Slytherins. "I know your parents were with the Dark Lord, and I know what risk this will be for you. If you want to back out now, I will not hold it against you. This order will be secret and hidden, but you three being with us will probably be noticed. We can stay on good terms and not make this order."

"No, we're not backing out. It's time the true face of Slytherin is revealed, right Crabbe, Goyle?"

"Right. After our time, the Slytherins will be known for something better than being overzealous dark followers," Goyle said, Crabbe nodding in solid agreement.

"Spoken like a true Guardian, uh… Custos," Neville said happily, still taking in the fact that these Slytherins were now friends with them.

But why should this come as a surprise to him? They had waited together to hear news or see Harry for the last three days, and all hostilities had ended between them months ago.

Goyle smiled, a feat Harry and the others had never truly seen, a genuine gentle smile.

This will work, Harry thought.

"Alright, wands up," Harry said, giving a nod, he led them.

"Together we Gryffs and Slyths will forge a Mighty Force

"With trust and undying allegiance in each other, we will lead

"As One we will march against our Foes

"We are a Formation of Defenders

"We are the Guardians of Light

"The Custosae de Lux."

In a flash of green, silver, red, and golden light from their wands, it was sealed.

The Custosae de Lux were born.

- - -

The last feast quickly came and ended, the school welcoming Harry back into the world of the conscious. The Gryffindors won the house cup, a good hundred points ahead of everyone else, and that wasn't counting the points they received for saving Hagrid and protecting the stone.

Hagrid had met with Harry on the last day alone. Harry told him most of what had happened and what Dumbledore and Snape had talked to him about, but decided to keep the recent memories to himself. He didn't want to worry Hagrid, and later if he wanted to tell him, he knew he could. Just an owl away.

Hagrid thanked him and his friends immensely, nearly squeezing Harry half to death before releasing him.

"So yer friends with Draco and his pals?" Hagrid asked, still unable to believe it.

"Yes, we even formed this kind of order. We call ourselves the Custosae de Lux, or the Guardians of Light, it's a secret though," Harry said.

"I can keep a secret," Hagrid said proudly.

"I know," Harry said with a smile.

"Have you told Dumbledore about, uh, the thing yet?" Hagrid asked.

"No, I think I should let him relax for a little bit, Ron and the others told me how worried he was. I figure I should let him recuperate before I drop this on him."

Hagrid chuckled, before remembering he had a present for Harry.

A leather book of pictures.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos…knew yeh didn't have any…d'yeh like it?"

Harry swallowed hard, trying to speak, but he couldn't.

Hagrid understood.

- - -

The train ride home was interesting.

Who would have thought I would be friends with three people I was enemies with at the beginning of the year? Harry asked himself, the seven of them sitting in the compartment together.

Hermione was busying herself with Custos plans. Writing out oaths, pledges, ideas, and possible ceremonies. The others let her, part of them equally fascinated with what they had created.

They spoke briefly about what they would do the following year, if they would have meetings, and what kinds of things they would do.

Harry soon found himself pondering beyond these initial things. Would they study together? Would they do what the four of them had been doing with Occlumency and extra work into spells?

"We should write over the summer, you know, make sure we're all doing alright. We can never be too careful," Hermione said.

The others looked at her slightly like, 'yeah… right, Hermione. Like we'll be attacked by Death Eaters…'

"It was just a thought," she said.

"I think we can do that," Neville said. "Though I don't know what Gran would think about, no offense, me writing to Slytherins. She's still in that mindset…"

"None taken. My dad feels the same way about Gryffindors. I still need to think how to tell him about Quirrell. I don't think he really understands my part in it," Draco said with a sigh.

"You saved our lives, Draco, or at least mine. By the time Ron and the others would have gotten help, I probably wouldn't be here," Harry admitted.

Draco smiled. "Thanks, just don't tell my father that…"

"So, will we write in code or something?" Goyle asked, hoarsely.

"We could use special invisible ink," Hermione suggested.

"At this time, I don't think we need to worry much about people poking in our mail. We're only eleven," Ron said. "I don't think they will ever imagine us forming a serious secret organization."

"Alright, but I think by the end of next year, we should have a system," she said, adding that to her list of to-do's.

"I've been thinking," Harry said, causing them all to look at him in complete attention.

Wow, you'd think I was their leader or something. Oh, I guess I sort of am…

"Um, well, for next year we could get together, do homework, and then start teaching ourselves some advanced stuff. If we are serious about this Custosae de Lux thing, I think we should earn the right to call ourselves that," Harry said.

"Yeah, I could bring some books from home," Crabbe said. "I have some things about powerful shields and things."

"As do I, and uh…some dark books. We could learn what we might be up against if things get serious," Draco said.

"Okay, just don't get in trouble, alright?" Harry warned them.

"My dad will be proud I'm looking at them," Draco said with a smirk, before taking a bite of his chocolate frog.

"I think we all need to take a wizard's oath," Ron said suddenly. "If we're going to get into this kind of deep stuff, and if Voldemort is going to return, I think we would all feel better if we knew, without a doubt, that our secrets are safe."

"That's a good idea Ron," Hermione said, pleased with his way of thinking.

"I agree. I do trust you all, but the extra precaution would put me a little more at ease," Draco admitted.

"Alright, since it was your idea, Ron, you take the oath first," Hermione said.

"Okay.

"I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, solemnly swear on my life and my magic that I will keep the secrets of the Custosae de Lux, and will never betray my fellow Custosae."

With a flash of light, the oath was made.

They then alternated between Slytherin and Gryfindor, saying the oath. Goyle, Hermione, Crabbe, Neville, Draco, and finally Harry.

Harry's light was no doubt the brightest, making the others chuckle slightly; there was reason why he was their leader.

"Well, now that we've done that, I have something to say, business for the Custodis de Lux. I'm a natural Occlumens and Legilimens," Harry said, unsure of how Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were going to respond, but other than looking slightly surprised, they just waited for him to continue. "Well, I've been teaching the others Occlumency, so I was wondering if you three would like to join in and make Occlumency and Legilimency a part of the Custosae."

"Yeah, that would be great. My father said something about Occlumency to me once, I think it would be good if we learned it," Draco said, the others nodding. "So that was how you knew that Hagrid was in trouble?" he asked.

"Yeah, for most of the year I had been unknowingly reading his mind I suppose," Harry mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

"You're full of surprises Potter, I'm glad we're on your side," Draco said, amused and inwardly impressed.

For the rest of the ride they spoke of summer plans, and what they were looking forward to with next year's classes, until finally, they approached their destination.

Harry inwardly smiled as he looked at his friends as they exited the train, trusting in whatever was going to happen the next year he would have them by his side, and they would have him by theirs.

For they were the Custosae de Lux.

- - -

End of First Year…

A/N: If any of you have questions (such as character developement or why Potter is the way he is), feel free to ask.

Again, for those of you who review (kindly and honestly), -thanks- each of you help me improve and type faster. :)

Next part: Book 2 – Part 1: The White Dragon