Disclaimer: I own this thing, it's really awesome: it's called…an imagination!

AN: 1. Thank you so much, everyone who reads, reviews, favourites, or just enjoys! Harry and I are very pleased that you are amused with us. Hope you enjoy this chapter – it was very fun to write.
2. I know this is very random indeed, but I wanted to say, that some of the people who have reviewed/favourited, you have very amusing screen names/pennames. Like, very, very clever or cute ones. So, if you think you have a rather neat screen name, cheers!

Chapter 12: Of Forests and Forbidden Places

When asked how, exactly, Harry had been able to convince the house elves in the Hogwarts kitchens to aide him in his 'Grand Egg Storm Vengeance Scheme,' as he had dubbed it, he simply replied,

"I asked them very, very nicely. And thanked them profusely."

Apparently, the underappreciated Hogwarts house elves had been eager to assist a student who finally gave them the kind words and gratitude they deserved.

When asked why he did it, Harry replied quite smugly,

"I wanted revenge on Hogwarts, but it's sort of hard to get revenge on a pile of bricks, so I settled for getting revenge on everyone in it. I'd say it worked quite well."

Professor Flitwick had shaken his head and left it at that – he found Harry amusing, to be sure, but he wasn't about to make guesses on the intricate inner workings of whatever convoluted, labyrinthine mess made up his psyche. So he assigned Harry detention that night with some other students and had sternly warned him against further pranking, and that was all.

And that was how Harry found himself standing in the entrance hall at eleven o' clock, beside Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, and Draco Malfoy.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at the unlikely quartet. "Now," he said curiously, "I'd say it's quite obvious why I'm here, but what did you four do?"

Hermione glared at him. "Yes, quite obvious why you're here indeed! What were you thinking, dropping eggs on everyone like that!"

Harry shrugged. "I wanted revenge on Hogwarts."

The other four first years looked at him as though he had lost his head.

"Egging is a classic way wreak vengeance. Never mind that, though," Harry said, "I asked, why are you four here."

Draco sniffed primly. "I shouldn't even be here – I was turning these three in…for smuggling a dragon off school grounds – but Professor McGonagall didn't even believe me, and assigned me detention with the rest of these stupid Gryffindors for being out of bed late!"

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, and turned to the three Gryffindors, amused. "A dragon? Really? Well done! That's rather brilliant, actually."

Hermione scowled at him. "It's not like we were trying to get in trouble, unlike someone I know." She glared at Harry pointedly. "Hagrid had a dragon egg, we were there when it hatched. Hagrid wanted to keep it, but we had to get it out before it burned his hut down!"

"And my brother works with dragons in Romania," Ron piped up.

"We were just trying to help," Hermione said sadly, Neville nodding behind her.

Harry shrugged. "Still brilliant, I say."

Hermione huffed. "You would say that."

"Of course, because it's true! Isn't that right, Neville?"

Neville froze. "Er…"

At that moment, Filch appeared, lantern in hand, skulking down the stairs, stopping in front of the five first years. "Follow me," he said hoarsely, leading them outside. "I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he cackled, leering at them. "Oh yes…hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me…It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out…hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed…"

"Or what about the stocks? Got a couple of those up in your office too?" Harry chirped sarcastically.

Filch grinned nastily, causing Harry to supress a grimace. "Oh yes, those too…been saving them just for you, boy."

Harry twitched. "We'll just have to exchange birthday presents then, won't we."

Filch leered at him a moment before turning away. "Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

Filch led the five first years over the cold, dark fields of the Hogwarts grounds, the grass damp and cool from condensation, whipping about slightly in the light breeze. Led only by the faint light of Filch's lantern, the first years jogged along at a quick pace to keep up, poor Neville tripping up every so often, earning a scoff from Draco. Eventually, Harry recognized the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut up ahead, and as they neared it, a gruff shout sounded out,

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry glanced over to the others – Draco looked horrified, but hope was blooming upon the three Gryffindors' faces.

Filch glanced back toward them as well, saying, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well think again, children – it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

Harry could hear poor Neville moaning, and Draco stopped short.

"The forest?" he said warily, "We can't go in there at night – there's all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard."

Neville squeaked and gripped the sleeve of Harry's robe, cringing when he saw the expectantly gleeful look on the Ravenclaw's face.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" commented Filch, voice cracking in his pleasured daze. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you've?"

By that time, Hagrid was striding toward them, a rather big, sloppy faced dog at its heel, and a crossbow and quiver of arrows in his arms.

"That's Fang," Neville whispered to Harry.

"Yeah, looks real fierce, that one," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

By that time, Hagrid had arrived in front of them. "Abou' time," he said, "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. Alright there?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," Filch warned coldly, "They're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," Filch said in turn, looking at the first years nastily as he added, "For what's left of them." He turned, stalking off toward the castle.

As soon as Filch was out of earshot, Draco piped up. "I'm not going in that forest." He glared when he heard Harry laughing at him.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do! I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd – "

"- tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled, clearly annoyed. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on."

Draco gritted his teeth, glaring at the half-giant, only faltering when Harry slapped him on the arm.

"Oh, cheer up, Malfoy! We get to go in the Forbidden Forest, with permission! It's like a free pass! Imagine all the oogly boogly hairy scary things that go bump in the night we might meet! You know, I've always wondered what it'd be like to get eaten, maybe I'll find out tonight…" Harry said musingly.

Draco snapped his glare toward him. "Well you wouldn't be alive to consider it afterwards, now would you?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, if my record holds, even being eaten wouldn't kill me."

Draco, as well as the Gryffindors, looked quite green at the concept, but Hagrid, who seemed to have only heard the first part of the conversation, ruffled Harry's long unruly mop of black hair, ignoring the death glare Harry sent him.

"Tha's the spirit, Harry! Right then, now, listen carefully, all of yeh, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led them to a small dale at the edge of the forest, surrounded by only a few shrubs and tufts of grass. As he held his lamp up high, he pointed down a long, narrow, meandering dirt trail that disappeared far off into the shadowy, tangled mass of dark trees.

"Look there," Hagrid said, "See that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood."

Hermione and Draco sucked in a deep breath, and Harry frowned thoughtfully.

"There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" Draco said, panic tinting his voice.

Harry grinned. "Then we'll do it in just like we did in that troll on Halloween!"

"No need," Hagrid said, "There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang."

Harry pouted.

"An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions."

"Is that really wise," Hermione said worriedly, "To split up?"

Neville nodded frantically.

Harry grinned. "You're not scared are you?"

Hermione scowled at him. "No, I said it wasn't wise."

"I'm scared!" Neville interjected. "I'm against splitting up too, just so you know."

Hagrid shook his head. "We're gonna have to. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least.'

"I want Fang and Potter," Draco said quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth and Harry's wand which was, for some reason, already drawn.

Harry shrugged but nodded.

"All right, but I warn yeh, Fang's a coward," said Hagrid with a raised eyebrow. "So me, Ron, Neville, and Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Harry, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now – that's it – an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh – so, be careful – let's go."

Harry sighed and grabbed Draco's wrist, calling, "C'mon Fang, let's go hunt some half-dead unicorn."

The three of them went off down the left fork in the earthen trail, Harry leading the way, with Draco and Fang following close behind. The path was slender and rocky, winding about the gnarled trees and shrubs of the forest, glowing a ghostly white from the lumos spells emanating from the two young wizards' wands. Every so often, a light, cool breeze would brush through the leaves and grass, causing Draco to shiver and Fang to whimper or growl – other than that, and the creaking of wood and the distant hints of nocturnal forest-dwelling creatures, the trek was silent.

It did not take long, however, for Harry to tire of the silence, and glancing over his shoulder, he called suddenly, startling both of his companions, "Come on, you two! Cheer up!"

Draco sneered at him. "What's there to be cheery about, Potter?"

Harry grinned. "We're in the forest, at night, on our own – we've got free reign of the whole place. And we're unicorn hunting! Well, half-dead unicorn hunting…but anyway, how novel is that!"

"You're bloody insane, you know that, Potter?"

"Who says?"

"Everyone!"

"Or," Harry drawled, "Maybe I'm the only sane one, and you're all mad."

Draco grimaced.

"You really need to cheer up, mate. I know! Let's sing!"

"Oh Merlin, please no…"

"We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow..."

His song was cut short when Draco slapped a cold, clammy hand over his mouth.

"Shut it, Potter! Do you want whatever's killing those unicorns to find us? If it does, I'll bloody kill you!"

"Unless," Harry said, removing the hand from his mouth, "Before you can kill me, it catches you, tears out your entrails, and uses them for jelly to put on its toast."

Draco grimaced. "What sort of monster eats toast?"

"The sort that doesn't have the culinary skills to make bacon and eggs for breakfast."

"You know, I'm just going to stop talking to you now. Your reason seems to have vacated you at some point."

Harry nodded. "I believe I am still reeling from my recent defeat at the hands of Hogwarts castle."

Draco could only shake his head. "Just…stop talking."

They went on like that, silently, for a time, trekking on deeper into the forest, casting their gazes about looking for any sign of the unicorn, until Harry hissed, "Stop! I found something…"

"Potter, this is no time for –"

"Sh! I'm serious! Come here, look." He pointed between two trees, into a small clearing just beyond. A silvery puddle was strewn over the uneven forest turf leading to the shape of a dead unicorn – its pearly white hide still glimmered softly, its eyes closed in a pained expression; yet still, its face was graced by a strangely innocent, regal look.

Harry took a step closer, and another, not able to resist the desire to move closer and brush the mud and leaves from the beautiful creature's face – but he stopped short when he heard the noise of shivering leaves. He cast his gaze to the thicket just across the clearing, watching, wide-eyed and frozen, as a hooded figure crept out from within the shadows toward the unicorn. Stopping when it crouched before the fallen animal, it lowered its head over the wound in the unicorn's side, and began to lap up the silvery blood.

Before Harry could stop him, Draco let out a terrified scream and darted in the other direction, Fang following on his heels.

Muttering a dejected, "Damn it all," Harry drew his wand, but froze as the hooded figure raised its head staring straight at him, and a searing pain erupted in his head, similar to but stronger than the pain that burned in his scar whenever Professor Quirrell turned around in class. The pain burst forth from his scar, jolting down into his eyes and over his face, back down his neck and into his spine – and then, everything flashed black, and then bright green, and a plethora of images began to flash before his eyes, too fast for him to track…but he thought he recognized some of them…from the dreams he had suffered from during the holidays…

Suddenly, the figure rose up, and panic boiled up in Harry's chest. As the figure took a step toward him, through his pain, he managed to lift his arm and point his wand toward the figure. In his agonized state, he couldn't think of any spells, so he just bit his lip and concentrated – on how much he didn't want to die, on how much it hurt, on how much he wanted the hooded figure to just leave ….

WHOOSH!

Harry was blown backwards, crying out as his back hit the tree behind him. Groaning, he opened his eyes, shocked to find the clearing – well, clear; free of any leaves, stray branches, or shrubs, as though a violent wind had swept through it. The hooded figure was nowhere to be seen.

Harry blinked. "Oops…I didn't do that, did I?"

"Yes you did, young wizard."

Harry spun around, cringing at the pain in his bruised back, finding behind him a huge creature, with the upper body of a man and the lower body of a steed – a centaur – its coat of a soft palomino.

"Are you alright?" the centaur asked.

"Er, yes, I'm fine, thanks. So…you wouldn't happen to know what I did, do you?"

The centaur looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "That was pure magic, Harry Potter, channelled through your wand. Your wand is made of holly, is it not?"

"…yes?" Harry really had no idea what that had to do with anything…

"Holly wood purifies – no darkness can exist within it, which is why your magic, young and untainted as it is, drove that foul being away."

"Yeah, about that…what was that?"

The centaur didn't answer, his bright blue eyes drifting toward the sky, then snapping back to Harry. "Your Sight is strong, Harry Potter, you must not let the many things you will See blind you."

Harry blinked. "Okay…"

"You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way." He paused, noticing Harry's suspicious leer. "My name is Firenze," he added, lowering himself onto his front legs.

Harry recognized the gesture as a friendly one, and awkwardly climbed onto Firenze's back.

Suddenly, though, the sound of galloping came from the other side of the clearing. Two other centaurs burst through the trees, looking sweaty and worn.

"Firenze!" one of the other centaurs thundered, "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who this is, Bane?" said Firenze. "This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this forest, the better."

Now Harry resented that comment – it made it sound like he was some sort of disease that they needed to get rid of.

"What have you been telling him?" the centaur, Bane growled. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the Heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

The other centaur pawed at the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best…"

Bane kicked his legs furiously. "For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest! We look after our own!"

"And what if the boy is one of our own?"

Harry frowned at that – he wasn't a centaur…but centaurs were magical creatures with Seeing abilities, if mythology was to be believed….

"But…he couldn't…."

Firenze glared at the other centaur. "He is. Don't you see? The stars and the planets sing to him this night. And I, as a servant of the heavens, will see to it that he is brought back to Hagrid safely." With that, Firenze bucked slightly and took off, leaving the other two centaurs behind.

"Wow," Harry said as they plunged through the trees, gripping Firenze's back tightly. "That was intense. What's their problem? And are you going to tell me what that creepy thing getting high on unicorn blood was?"

Firenze's gait slowed to a walk, but remained silent. The twain made their way through the trees without conversation, for a time, slowly clambering over the thick forest foliage, until Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"Uh…no? I've read through my potions book inside and out, and we never use unicorn blood for anything."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips. There are few magics that can taint a person so."

"Wait, how could a unicorn be defenseless, with those big pointy horns?" He shook his head, silently reprimanding himself for being so easily distracted. "When you say a cursed life – is it something so deep…that it touches the person's soul?"

Firenze looked at him, surprised.

"Like…the Killing Curse?"

"The Avada Kedavra curse, like drinking unicorn blood, is one of the few ways to put a taint on one's soul so deep that it is never washed away, and if it is strong enough, even Death will cast such a dark soul aside."

Harry's eyes widened. "What happens when Death casts your soul aside, though?"

Firenze shook his head and turned away. "Such things are not spoken of."

"Right – but I wonder who'd be so reckless, to be that desperate…? I mean, wouldn't it be better to just keel over and die?"

"It would be," Firenze agreed, "Unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else – something that will bring you back to full strength and power – something that will mean you never die, and Death will never deal with your soul. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"Of course I do. How do you?"

Firenze chuckled. "It would seem we walk in similar circles…"

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?"

It was Hermione, bounding toward him, Hagrid puffing along behind her.

Harry smirked. "Worried about me, were you?" he said, dismounting.

Hermione slapped him on the arm. "Of course I was!"

"Really? So you like me after all? You would be sad if some big bad monster ripped out my innards and used my bones for toothpicks, and then you found my bloodied head outside the forest in the morning?"

There were tears forming in Hermione's eyes, which she quickly wiped away, hitting him again. "Of course I would! You stupid, stupid boy!"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "I'd be sad if you got eaten too…sorry?"

Hermione sniffled. "You'd better be!"

Harry nodded, then looked up to Hagrid, who was leaning over, trying to catch his breath. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, already was when Malfoy and I found it."

"He told us," Hermione interrupted, a concerned look on his face, "He also said there was something terrible attacking you!"

"Er, it was nothing, really, got scared off when Firenze showed up." He glanced over his shoulder, to where the centaur had before stood, but found no sign of him.

"…and then we went back to the castle – I made it to Ravenclaw tower just as everyone was waking up, and fell to sleep – I was so bloody tired!" Harry whined at Jean's portrait.

It was nearly dinner time, the Saturday after his detention in the Forbidden Forest – he'd slept nearly the entire day; apparently, trekking through the forest all night along with that sudden burst of magic had taken more out of him than he had originally thought.

"Well you should be! That sounds like some pretty powerful magic you let loose…" mused Jean, "You should really be more careful – you'll end up draining yourself dry one day."

Harry paled. "That can happen?"

Jean snorted. "'Course it can – you didn't think you've got a bottomless bucket of mojo deep down somewhere, did you?"

"…well, no…"

"Everyone's got one magical core – different sizes, all of them – that replenishes itself by filtering in magic from the earth every so often. But if you use too much at once…you keel over and die."

"Lovely."

"Right. So this mysterious, hooded, Black Rider-like creature, you didn't happen to get a good look at the face, did you?"

"No Jean, I was too busy trying to stay conscious while something was splitting my head open," Harry snapped.

Jean held his hands up. "Fine, fine. No need to get snippy. I just wonder who it was…"

"The centaur seemed to think that whoever it was is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone."

Jean quirked an eyebrow. "So…some creep who wants eternal life, then. It would explain why Death would want the stone destroyed – he doesn't like people trying to cheat him out of what's his."

Harry frowned. "But he's Death – why doesn't he just come down here, and like, zap whoever it is, instead of bothering me about it? It'd be easier for both of us."

"Because, Harry, Death doesn't exactly live around here – beings like Death and the Fates exist on something smart people like to call the transcendent plane – unlike the mortal plane, it's not spacio-temporal, it's a whole other level of existence; and I'd imagine Death wouldn't want to lower himself to walking on the mortal plan every time some mortal gets too damn proud for their own good…that'd be a pain in the ass, after all. So he gets us to do his dirty work for him."

Harry grimaced. "Bugger. So I'm not getting out of this?"

"Nope," Jean said, popping the 'p,' "But I wonder who our mysterious thief's identity is…"

"The headache I got in the forest…it was the same as the headaches I get in Defense Against the Dark Arts class…"

Jean laughed. "You think it's Quirrell? He hardly seems like the type!"

Harry shrugged. "Clark Kent didn't seem like the type to be Superman, either."

Jean grimaced. "Yeah, but…"

"It doesn't really matter," Harry said, "Personally, I think anyone as lame as Professor Quirrell has to be evil deep down, but it has nothing to do with me. I just need to find the stone and destroy it before the mystery thief does – and then Death won't bother me ever again, and I can stop being afraid of every bloody mirror in the castle."

Jean chuckled.

"It's not funny! Besides, I still need to figure out how to actually destroy the stone…"

"Oh that's easy," Jean said.

Harry looked at him skeptically.

"What? Don't look at me like that! I dabbled with a bit of alchemy back in the day…"

"You?" Harry asked.

"Oi! I can be smart, when I put my mind to it."

"When you put your mind to it…"

"Anyway," Jean said loudly, "As I was saying, the Philosopher's Stone is a delicate pseudo-element made by a careful fusion of all the other elements – in other words, it's extremely volatile. That's why it's so hard to make; the ratios have to be exact, or else the opposing elements will devour each other. It's like Anaximander's objection to Thales's metaphysic."

"So?"

"So," Jean drawled, "It wouldn't take much direct magical force to completely collapse the molecular structure of the stone, once you get past the hardened outer layer. In other words, a good strong Reducto should do it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. It's that easy. Should be, anyway."

"Jean…" Harry warned.

"I'm pretty sure, alright! Jeez, have some faith."

Harry huffed indignantly.

"You always were a suspicious little bastard."

Harry stuck out his tongue, then sighed thoughtfully. "Well, I should get going now."

"Dinner?"

Harry shook his head. "Time to implement the first stage of my plan – get past Fluffy the hellhound."

"You found a way?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope. But I've got some ideas. I mean, it's still a dog, right?"

Jean sighed. "Just…don't end up as puppy chow, please?"

"Deal."

As Harry made his way down the stairs to the Hogwarts kitchens, he could hear the bustling chatter of the student body above in the Great Hall. Finding himself in front of the doors, he looked over his shoulder, and finding himself quite alone, he slipped in.

"Oh! Master Harry Potter sir! What can wes be helpin' yous with, sir?" exclaimed Tippy, one of the house elves that worked in the kitchen, upon seeing him. "Are wes a gonna be dropping more eggs on the Great Hall, sir?"

Harry smiled and shook his head, kneeling down and patting Tippy's head, laughing as she blushed. "No, Tippy, I was actually going to ask about some of your food stores…you wouldn't happen to have any steak or something lying around, would you?"

Tippy perked up. "Oh, yes, Dribby just went to the butcher yesterday! Tippy would be very, very pleased to give some steak to Harry Potter, sir! Hows would yous like it cooked?"

"No, it's not for me – what I need is a nice, raw, juicy steak, wrapped up nicely."

After Tippy had fetched the steak, Harry stealthily made his way up to the third floor corridor under the cover of his invisibility cloak, rushing down to the last door, where Fluffy was kept. Taking a deep breath, he muttered a quiet "Alohomora," and slipped into the room. Unwrapping the steak, he threw it on the floor, pointing his wand at it, and saying clearly, "Engorgio!"

Harry collapsed on his bed, his sleeve torn and speckled with blood.

Jean looked over to him. "How'd it go?"

"Apparently," Harry sighed, "I look much tastier than an enlarged steak. Stupid hellhound."

It was one week later, late one Saturday night, and Harry collapsed into his four poster bed, face bleeding.

"What'd you try this time?" Jean drawled.

Harry looked over at him. "Aren't dogs supposed to like bones, or something?"

Another week passed, and Harry found himself stumbling into his bed, wincing as his bruised back hit the bed frame.

"Unsuccessful?" Jean muttered sympathetically.

"Yeah, and now I have to explain to Lisa Turpin why her stuffed bear is enlarged and in twenty-three pieces."

Harry fell backwards onto his bed, hair mussed up with an odd mixture of blood and something brown and sticky.

Jean looked at him from inside the portrait with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell did you do this time?"

"I read somewhere that dogs like peanut butter."

It was once again Saturday, already June, and Harry once again collapsed onto his bed, groaning, coated with blood and fur.

Jean only winced.

"Remind me," Harry said wearily, "That I owe Mandy Brocklehurst a cat."

Jean couldn't help it, he laughed, and even Harry's zombie-like death glare couldn't stop him.

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