Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Any original plots or characters are mine.

AN:

Finally, the results! About 40 have asked for Het, other 20 don't care whether its het/slash/bi or just no pairing at all, but the vast majority -over 100!- want it to be slash, so SLASH it is, as you have decided and as originally intended! :)

I'll ask about possible pairings you prefer later, though we pretty much know, given hints, who the two candidates for final pairing for Harry are ;) But there can be others in between, so that can be fun. And some of you have already told me which ones you'd like, so I'm already writing those down ^.^

Enjoy another fast update, I'm spoiling you, deservedly, for all the reviews and votes ;)

Part I: Chapter 40

The following morning, Harry woke up his familiar and rose from his bed before his roommates even stirred. Indeed, even the depths of the Black Lake that could be seen from the round windows of their dormitory hadn't yet faintly lit with the spearing beams of sunrise from above.

Carefully and very quietly, with little Ulysses perched on top of his head and with folder in hand, Harry made his way to the ground floor and the wing of the castle where the Staff's quarters could be found.

He halted before one of the doors and knocked repeatedly. When no one answered, Harry rapped his knuckles more urgently.

He heard a shuffling of feet, and suddenly the door was drawn open slightly, a head poking out.

Professor Tilly Toke looked distinctly ruffled, with blonde hair disheveled from sleep and blue eyes that groggily squinted down at him.

"Mr. Riddle?" croaked out the Charms professor, still looking sleepy but now also startled. The wizard glanced around at the empty corridor, before staring back at Harry, nonplussed. "Is there anything the matter?" He frowned, rubbing his face. "What time is it?"

"Early," said Harry shortly, before he shot the wizard an entreating look. "Can I come in, please? I would like to speak to you."

The man blinked at him, before nodding and opening the door wide.

Harry quickly trotted inside, glancing around with curiosity. The sitting room was small but cozy, in tan and blue colors, a large fireplace on one side with dying embers in the hearth, a couple of shelves filled with books, and a door that seemed to lead to the teacher's bedchamber.

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" said Tilly Toke amiably, though still sleepily blinking, as he took a seat before a small tea table, gesturing for him to do the same.

Harry plopped down on a chair, settling Ulysses on his lap as he shot the puzzled wizard a warm smile.

During the previous few days in which he had been plotting and hashing out the details of his plan –since reading Alice's letter– it was his Charms Professor and Head of Hufflepuff House who first came to mind. The wizard was the one adult in Hogwarts he most liked and trusted.

Furthermore, Toke was the one man who he knew he could persuade, given the wizard's personality and feats. Tilly Toke had been the one who had taught him plenty of Charms outside of class and helped him create The Three Musketeers' Map, after all.

Without any further ado, Harry opened the folder and yanked out Robert Hutchins' file and the map of Norway filled with marks and annotations of battles.

He spread them on the tea table, before Tilly Toke's perplexed eyes.

"Where did you get all this from?" said the Charms Professor, blinking down at all the papers, maps, photos, and documents.

"Can't say," replied Harry firmly, not wanting to get Ignatius Prewett in trouble, and then added without beating around the bush, "I need to go to Norway." He pointed a finger at Hutchins' file. "To look for this man. A muggle in the British Army, and a friend."

When the teacher merely stared at him in mute incomprehension and bafflement, Harry continued quickly, "He was last seen in Namsos, a town in middle Norway, defending it from Germans. The fastest way to get there is by portkey-"

"Portkey?" Tilly Toke stared at him, taken aback. "You're asking me to make you a portkey to go to Norway?"

Harry's eyebrows shot upwards. "Can you make a portkey to go there?"

"No, I've never been to that country before…" The wizard trailed off, shaking his head in bemusement, before he sighed deeply. "Even if I had, I wouldn't-"

"Right, it's what I thought," interjected Harry swiftly. "I just need for you to buy a portkey from the Ministry of Magic." He waved a hand dismissively. "To Namsos or whatever other town is closest to there." He cocked his head to a side, as he intently gazed at his teacher. "You said in class that the Department of Magical Transportation has pensieves filled with memories of places all over the world, that they use to make portkeys. And I'll repay whatever it costs. My brother has galleons."

Well, more likely, if Tom refused to help, he would just steal one of the countless pouches of galleons his brother had in his trunk.

"And of course that you want to go to Norway," added Harry vehemently, nodding at him, "to check up on your friends there."

Tilly Toke gave him a thoroughly perplexed look. "I don't have any acquaintances in-"

"You've often said in class," said Harry, shooting him a pointed stare, "how worried you are about them."

The wizard seemed to cotton on about the excuse Harry intended him to use in the Ministry when asking for a portkey, though the man then heaved a deep breath as he glanced at Robert Hutchins' file and said in sympathy, "I understand your wish to find and help a friend, Mr. Riddle… Harry. But I can't-"

"He's like a father to us," said Harry, his eyes going big as he blinked twice, making tears appear. He fretfully clenched his hands on top of the table, looking miserable as he peered up at the wizard, mumbling softly in distress, "And I fear what Tom might do. He wants to go to Norway at all costs, sir!"

"Your twin…" Tilly Toke stared at him, utterly surprised. "He's the one who-"

"Yes!" cried out Harry in utter anguish. "Robert Hutchins is like a father to him. I don't know what he'd do if he lost Hutchins!" He leaned forward, peering at the man with distraught eyes. "The muggle is like a dad to both of us, and you and the rest of teachers know that Tom and I are orphans, sir." He sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheeks. "You wouldn't want us to lose the only father-figure we have in our lives, would you?"

The Hufflepuff Head of House eyed him with concern. "Well, of course not, but-"

"And surely you know how my brother can be, Professor. Once he gets something in his head, he'll do anything to accomplish it!" Harry shook his head in despair, as he muttered wretchedly, "He's been ranting about all the other ways we can go to Norway if you don't help us get a portkey." He shot the man an anxious look, as he choked out, with big, fearful eyes, "But they are all very risky, dangerous ways, sir!"

There was just one option left for him if Toke didn't help, but his teacher didn't need to know that, just as it was best if the man thought that Tom was on board and the one of the idea.

The point was that by portkey was the fastest way, especially since he didn't know that much about Thestrals.

They had studied about them in Care of Magical Creatures, but just the theory, as they did about any 'dangerous' animals. Professor Kettleburn certainly never dared to go into the Forbidden Forest to capture a specimen of anything more troublesome than a Pixie - the man had already lost too many limbs. But supposedly, there were Thestrals in the forest, and Harry hoped he could see and find them if it came to that.

After all, he had seen Death once: the previous Matron of St. Jerome's Orphanage, Mrs. Sharpe, lying dead on the floor after 'tripping' and taking a tumble down the stairs. Harry hoped that the cruel, nasty, odious woman's death at least served for something.

Tilly Toke eyed him with deep worry. "Harry, I must impress upon you the need to convince your brother of not doing anything drastic." The man fretfully rustled his locks of blonde hair with a hand, as he sighed deeply. "I wished I could help you boys, but I could not possibly aid two students to do something so dangerous as going to a country that is at war-"

"Oh, of course!" interrupted Harry, gazing at him with immense gratefulness. "You know my brother and I can't use magic, because of our Traces, so you'll need to come along to help us. I understand!"

The Charms Professor shot him an alarmed glance, then looking discomfited as he shifted on his seat, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Um, yes, two students alone, without an adult as an escort, is out of the question… " He frowned and shook his head, his expression turning stern. "No, Mr. Riddle, what I meant is that-"

"I should have known you'd want to help us!" breathed out Harry, staring at him with huge green eyes filled with worshipful admiration. "You're a hero! You saved all those muggles in the beach from the rogue dragon. You have an Order of Merlin First Class!" He excitedly gestured at the reports on the table. "And saving Hutchins, a muggle soldier, would be the same – you've done it before!"

"Well, yes, I have," said Tilly Toke, a proud, pearly-white smile gracing his handsome features as he straightened his shoulders. He then frowned, eyeing him uncertainly. "However, going to Norway is-"

"And you said in class," interjected Harry, gazing at him in reverence, "how muggles need our protection. How it's a wizard's duty to help them!"

"Yes," said the Head of Hufflepuff House with a pleased smile. "It is the honorable thing to do, to aid muggles that are in danger-"

"As wizards, we are honor-bound," cut in Harry, fervently nodding and parroting what the man often said in lessons, "to give aid to those who cannot protect themselves." He gazed at the man in sheer awe and veneration. "I understand! Of course you want to save our muggle friend too, now that you know about what danger he must be in!"

Tilly Toke began to nod, before he halted, giving him a troubled look. "Well, not quite, you see-"

"Oh, I do!" said Harry, beaming a smile at him. "You're thinking about all the things we'll need, in order to find Hutchins. You're so clever!" He nodded at him repeatedly. "Yes, we'll need brooms, to fly as we look for him– it will only take us some hours to find him, I'm sure. We'll be in and out, with the portkey you've agreed to buy! No one in the castle will find out that we have even left!"

Harry grinned at him, and as soon as the teacher opened his mouth again, he was quick to grasp Ulysses and present him before the man's eyes. "You're so very smart, to have thought about using him! My Scorcrup knows Hutchins – knows his smell." He glanced down at his familiar, his eyes inquisitive, as he muttered from the corner of his mouth, "You could find him by his scent, if we're nearby, right?"

Little Ulysses stared up at him, looking musing, before he licked Harry's palm and bobbed his head up and down.

Harry grinned, to then flash his professor with smile. "You think about everything, sir! And of course, we don't want muggles to see us flying in brooms all over the place, so you can cast on yourself that Disillusionment Charm you were telling us about the other day in class, the one you'll teach us in Seventh Year." His smile broadened, as he winked conspiratorially. "And my brother and I will use something else, since we can't do magic. Don't worry about that, Professor!"

He jumped to his feet, only pausing to tilt his head to a side, making himself look pensive, as he muttered somberly, "And I'll see what my brother's state of mind is. Then I'll know if he should come along with us or not, sir." He heaved a deep breath. "He's so concerned about our muggle friend that perhaps it's best if he stays here. But we'll decide that later."

"Harry-"

Harry was upon Tilly Toke, hugging him tightly, before the man could get out another word, as he cried out with tears of gratefulness in his eyes, "Oh, I knew you'd help us, sir! I knew you're the bravest, most honorable wizard!"

He peeled himself away from the wizard, and patted him on the shoulder with a warm smile on his face. "A portkey to Namsos or any other town near it, Professor, remember! And I'll be prepared with all the things you've said we'll need. Don't worry, it will be a piece of cake. Just let me know when you have the portkey!"

With a hasty flick of his wand and a muttered spell, all the documents, photos, files and papers flew into the folder, and Harry was dashing out of the room with Ulysses and folder in hand before the teacher could gather back his wits, leaving a dazed, blinking Tilly Toke behind.

Harry grinned with supreme smugness and satisfaction as he strolled down a corridor with Ulysses perched on top of his head.

Tilly Toke would do it, he was certain.

He had left the man with no other choice - thoroughly wheedled, inveigled, and confused the wizard into an inescapable trap of the man's own sense of honor and duty. And the Charms Professor was a wizard who was fond of thrills, adventures, and saving muggles in distress, after all.

Yes, Harry had no doubts, the wizard would come through for him.

He merrily made his way to his dormitory. None of his roommates had awoken yet, as early as it still was, and he carefully extracted his satchel from his trunk, instructing Ulysses to stay on his bed, before he tiptoed out.

Harry soon reached the kitchens and partook of a pleasant breakfast in solitude, waiting for the time to execute the next stage of his plan.

He knew from Felix Prewett, the new Beater, that the Gryffindor Quidditch Team had practices every Saturday early in the morning.

Indeed, around ten o'clock, Harry left the kitchens, gratefully waving a hand at the friendly house-elves, and made his way to Gryffindor Tower.

He caught sight of the Team –all sweaty, with mud splattered on their Quidditch uniforms, tired but also excitingly and proudly patting each other on the backs- on the stairs, some already going through the portrait hole of the Fat Lady.

"Charlus!" called out Harry, racing towards them, "Charlus!"

"There's a slimy snake looking for you, Captain," grunted one of the players, tall and burly, a nasty look in his eyes as he glowered at him.

"Who is it?" said a puzzled voice, as Charlus Potter's head appeared in between those of his teammates.

"I need to speak to you alone," said Harry hastily, as he finally reached the group that had halted to stare at him. He even saw Felix Prewett shooting him a curious look. "I… um, have a message from Dorea Black, for you."

At that, one of the boys by Potter's side hooted, as he made good-natured, taunting smooching noises. "Ooohhh, kissies-kissies from pretty Dorea! Wants you to meet her today in the Astronomy Tower for some more petting, eh!"

Charlus Potter grinned rakishly at the boy, who had to a be friend, since besides Felix Prewett and Minerva McGonagall -the only girl in the Team- he was the only one who wasn't scowling, or eyeing Harry with mistrust and dislike, or outright glaring at his Slytherin uniform with despise.

"Shut up," said Charlus, still grinning, digging an elbow into his friend's ribs, though it couldn't have been that hard because the other boy just chortled. He then glanced at his Team, and barked, "And go inside, you oafs, my darling's sweet words are for my ears only!"

At that, they all complied, some huffing, grunting or scowling, except the boy who had taunted, who shot Charlus a wicked grin before glancing at Harry, winking. "You tell Dorea that if my best mate isn't satisfying her as she deserves, she can come to me, and I'll show her a good time!"

"You try putting a paw on my fiancée and I'll trounce you, James!" shot Charlus, as the other boy chuckled and disappeared into the portrait hole.

The instant they were alone, the Gryffindor Captain swiftly turned to Harry, a besotted expression spreading on his face as he asked excitedly, "What's her message for me?"

"Um, there isn't any." Harry winced at the sixth-year boy's expression of disappointment and crushed hopes. "Sorry. I just wanted to speak with you in private."

Charlus deflated, sighing as he carded his fingers through locks of sweaty, wet, wind-blown hair. He stared at him with his hazel eyes, and grunted, "Well, what is it?"

"Can I borrow your Invisibility Cloak for today?" said Harry quickly, peering up at him with eyes filled with hope. "You see, Alphard and I want to use it again – but just for today!"

"You imps are up to some mischief or other, huh?" Charlus Potter grinned at him, before he frowned. "Not planning on pranking one of us, are you?"

Harry rolled his eyes at that. "We don't prank. That's stupid."

Charlus guffawed. "Shows how little you know." He then waved a hand dismissively. "Well, if you two little snakes aren't going to cause trouble, you can have it." He pierced him with his eyes, as he added sternly, "But take good care of it because-"

"It's a Potter heirloom," said Harry, nodding to then grin at him. "Yeah, I know. I'll treat it as if it was my own."

"Good," said Charlus, smiling as he ruffled Harry's already messy mop of hair. "Wait here, midget."

In a few minutes the boy returned, handing over the Invisibility Cloak, which Harry swiftly put inside his satchel as he voiced his deepest words of gratitude.

"And give Dorea this," said Charlus, grinning roguishly as he handed him a piece of folded parchment. "Tell her to meet me there tonight, wearing what I asked." His hazel eyes narrowed. "But don't you go reading my note, eh."

"As if I'd want to," grumbled Harry, shooting him a disgusted look as the tip of his ears went red.

Charlus Potter chortled at that. "Oh, just you wait until you're older, little runt. You'll be changing your mind soon."

And with a wink, the Gryffindor climbed back into the portrait hole.

Harry caught sight of Dorea in the corridors soon after, and he was quick to convey Potter's message in an embarrassed mumble as he shoved the letter into her hands.

When the girl read the note, her mouth hung open and she turned a bright, beet red – a hue Harry had never seen on her face before- though the moment a gleam of interest sparked in her grey eyes, Harry was swift to dash away before he could see her expression morphing into anything else. He really didn't want to know.

By lunchtime, he was under the Invisibility Cloak, hovering next to the entrance to the Infirmary.

The instant he saw Miss Nightingale coming out of the doors to make her way to the Great Hall, Harry swiftly slipped inside before the doors closed behind him.

The Infirmary was nearly empty, he saw, except for a bed occupied by a student, who appeared to be moaning in discomfort in a potion-induced sleep.

Harry scuttled forward and recognized the boy in the next second. It was hard not to, since he was the seventh-year Ravenclaw who had become the Head Boy –the Slytherin Algernon Wilkes had graduated last year.

Moreover, it was clear what ailed the boy, and just what a wrong foot he must have already stuck, obviously having annoyed the rule-breaking Gryffindors in some way, since the boy's head was completely bald, with a smattering of huge pustules flashing red and gold, spelling in big letters all across his head: Head Prat.

Harry quietly snorted at that, having the inkling that Charlus Potter must have had a hand in it, and then wasted no time in tiptoeing to the mediwitch's office.

She didn't seem to have warded it with any difficult spells, since he managed to get rid of the locking charms in just a matter of minutes. Miss Nightingale was either too careless or trusting, which he doubted, or she didn't fathom that any student would dare steal anything from her Infirmary.

It was her desk, its last drawer in particular, which interested him. And after sweeping his wand several times and ascertaining there weren't any other charms to dispel, he opened it.

There, was the key he had seen the mediwitch sticking inside the drawer during his detention with her.

Seconds later, Harry was opening the supply cupboard, perusing the many flasks of Healing Potions on its shelves.

He'd been studying about Healing since the start of the school year, though he wasn't an expert in any way thus far, obviously, but he had revised the chapters about potions during the last few days.

Many vials were labeled, but the others which weren't, he could recognize, remembering the stuff about color, consistency, texture, and whatnot.

Not really knowing in what state he would find Robert Hutchins in, Harry chose the most commonly used potions and brews for many afflictions and injuries: Blood-replenishing, Pain Dimming, Skele-Mend, Pepperup, and Wound-cleaning potions, besides some Burn-healing Paste, Restorative Draft, and Murtlap Unction.

He was careful to cast Unbreakable Charms on the glass phials as he stuck them one after the other in his satchel.

Harry only stiffened once, alarmed, when a loud thud resounded.

Still under the Invisibility Cloak, though, he saw that it had only been the Ravenclaw Head Boy who had rolled over the edge of the bed in his sleep, and fallen to the floor.

Shrugging, he left the moaning boy there as he returned the supply cupboard's key to its place, and then slipped out of the Hospital Wing, his heart thumping in contentment in his chest.

He went looking for and, no surprise, found Tom in the library, ensconced in one shadowy corner, at a table nearly toppling with books.

Harry shot the titles a fleeting glance. His brother was still researching about how to disable their Traces, since the boy hadn't made any progress in that regard, so far.

"If it was easy," Tom had hissed out once, looking harassed and ill-tempered, "then every underaged wizard in Britain would be cancelling their Traces during holidays - or their parents doing it for them! I'll find a way whenever I do, stop asking me!"

"Tom," whispered Harry quietly at present, as he leaned towards the boy. "Come with me."

His brother shot him a baleful look, as he sneered dourly, "If this is about your half-witted, lame brained intentions of-"

"Just follow me!" bit out Harry impatiently, scowling, before he lowered his voice to a mere murmur. "Let's go to the Room of Requirements."

Tom shot him a malevolent glare, before he gritted his teeth, looking as if he was being unmercifully pestered beyond endurance by some bothersome bug.

"Fine," the boy then said crisply, flicking his wand violently, making the books fly back into their shelves.

He rose to his feet, slinging his school bag across his chest, as he glowered at him. "Let's go there, and you can tell me how you've finally realized what a complete dunderhead you are because there's no way you can find the stupid muggle!"

"Yes," said Harry hastily, though he couldn't help the triumphant grin that spread on his face, "that's exactly what I want to talk about."

Tom's dark blue eyes narrowed to slits, certainly suspicious and vexed at Harry's expression, but the boy then turned on his heels without saying another word and marched off the library.

Harry was quick to follow, and they easily reached the seventh floor without being noticed. The castle was nearly empty since it was the early days of May and everyone was out and about on the grounds that Saturday, enjoying outdoors in springtime.

The Room of Requirements became a nearly exact replica of the Slytherin common room – Tom's notion of an ideal place, apparently, even just as chilly, shadowy, and damp.

Harry sighed as he concentrated and wished for a pleasant, warm fire. The moment one of the fireplaces burst with flames, he happily trotted to it and slumped into the black leather couch in front.

Tom sat on an ornate, winged armchair across from him, like an impatient emperor on a throne, as he said testily, "Well?"

Immediately, Harry fully explained his visit to Professor Tilly Toke, recounting the whole conversation.

The moment he was done, he saw Tom staring at him, slowly arching an eyebrow, looking surprised and even grudgingly impressed.

Harry snorted at that, crossing his arms over his chest. "What – did you think I was just going to tromp by myself into a country filled with Nazis? When I can't do magic because of my Trace?" He shot him an annoyed glance. "I want to be expelled as little as you do!" He then shot him a toothy grin. "I knew I needed an adult to come along and do magic for me. So I got myself one."

Given Tom's expression, his brother had indeed thought that he would just recklessly jump into it without any preparation, like the idiot Tom clearly believed him to be.

"And you're telling me that Toke agreed to it?" Tom then demanded with narrowed eyes.

"Well," said Harry loftily, waving a hand dismissively, "not in so many words, but-"

"So he didn't," bit out Tom harshly, skewering him with his gaze.

"He will!" snapped Harry, scowling. "He'll get the portkey and he'll come along. You'll see."

"If he does," sneered Tom with dripping snide, "he's more of a vain fool than I thought!" His dark blue eyes thundered. "He's a Professor of Hogwarts – he should know better than to assist a student in a plan as mad as yours!"

"What I want to do is not crazy," gritted out Harry, irked. He swiftly opened his satchel, tilting it so that his brother could see its contents. "See, I already got plenty of potions to heal Hutchins when I find him. And look!" He quickly yanked out the Invisibility Cloak from one corner, and spread it on one arm of the couch, so that his brother could see how it vanished from sight. "I also have this, so that I'm not seen!"

Tom stared, before he was instantly on his feet, leaping forward to make a grasp at the invisible arm of the couch.

Harry saw the Invisibility Cloak like a mantle of glowing light, as he always did, as his brother turned the sheer cloth this way and that –his hands disappearing, his fingers, one arm, the other- Tom's stunned expression turning awed, before he pierced Harry with narrowed eyes, demanding forcefully, "I know what this is. I've read about them. Where did you get an Invisibility Cloak from?"

"Charlus Potter," replied Harry simply.

Tom stared. "Potter? The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain? How would you-" He clamped his mouth shut before he sneered contemptuously, "Of course, your little friend Black knows him, and you know him through Black."

"Yup," said Harry placidly. "Charlus has lent Alphard and I the Cloak before."

"And what did you two imbeciles use it for?" demanded Tom churlishly, his eyes narrowing to slits with suspicion, and also what appeared to be jealously and seething annoyance.

"Oh, nothing important," Harry lied smoothly, his tone airy. "It was pretty boring, in truth." He widely grinned at him, as he added cajolingly, "The Cloak is big enough for two, brother."

Tom acidly scoffed at that, irreverently tossing the Invisibility Cloak to the couch. "If you think a stupid invisibility piece of cloth is enough to save us from all the risks-"

"We'll have Tilly Toke!" snapped Harry with exasperation. "And my Comet 180, and Ulysses-"

"Your wee, bitty pet?" jeered Tom scornfully. "As if he'll be of any use-"

"You don't know him," interjected Harry crossly, glaring at him. "You've never bothered to get to know him! You don't know all the things he can do. He's like a bloodhound – he can find Hutchins. And he can protect us too! That's what Scorcrups are – fierce protectors when their bonded owners are in danger!"

Tom glowered at him, as he said poisonously, "I know what the beasts can do. Unlike you, I read. But what you mean is that he'll protect you-"

"And you, if I tell him to," retorted Harry impatiently. He carded his fingers through his hair, and demanded shortly, "Look. Are you coming or not?"

Tom's eyes narrowed to slits, before he simply turned around and stalked out of the room without giving him a reply.

Harry was in his dorms, worriedly biting his bottom lip.

It was already nightfall, they had already partaken of dinner in the Great Hall, and he didn't have any news from Tilly Toke. Hadn't even seen the wizard since the Professor hadn't been at the Staff Table during supper.

He glanced at his brother, who was sitting on his bed with some textbook in hands. They were the only two in the dormitory, since the others were in the common room with the rest of the Slytherins.

Harry cast a Tempus Charm again, dismayed at the hour. He then sighed and slowly rose to his feet.

He was rummaging in his trunk the next second, taking out as many bits of winter clothes as he had.

"What are you doing?" demanded Tom's voice sharply.

"Getting ready," Harry said curtly without sparing him a glance. "I'm not waiting any longer. I'm going to use the Thestrals to get to Norway."

Tom was towering before him in the bat of an eyelash, his face contorted with anger, as he hissed out, "I'm not letting you go anywhere-"

'Pop!' and a house-elf suddenly appeared before them, fretfully yanking his long, flopping ears as he stuck out a small, green hand, squeaking nervously, "Biddy was asked to give you this!"

Harry blinked as he took the small piece of parchment, mumbling, "Thanks."

The house-elf gazed at him with big eyes and gave him a watery smile –Harry was certain he was one of those who knew him well from the kitchens, and quite used to his gratitude for all the delicious food- before it vanished with another 'pop'.

Harry opened the letter, soon grinning triumphantly.

Be in my office in an hour. Dress in warm, muggle clothes. Bring your broomsticks and something belonging to your muggle friend, if you have it, or at least something he has touched.

It was unsigned, but obvious who had written it.

Harry merely paused to wonder at the last bit Tilly Toke was requesting, before he shrugged his shoulders and tossed the letter to his brother.

"The fool!" snarled Tom as soon as he read it, crushing the piece of parchment in his hands.

Tom went on to virulently spit out why it was all such a bad idea, what a dunce Harry was for even considering it, all the things that could go wrong and end up in disaster, and the 'grievous' consequences there would surely be, all for looking for a lowly muggle who was already dead! – while Harry carried on, taking things from his trunk, fishing out his shrunken Comet 180 from a pair of socks, the toy motorcar Hutchins had once given him as a birthday present, the large map of Norway with the names of towns, the black crosses marking battles and red dots of 'German Occupied Territory', from the folder Ignatius Prewett had sent to him, to then glance musingly around the room and quickly reach his desk, opening the Broomstick Servicing Kit Alphard had given him, and taking the clip-on compass.

"Are you listening!" spat Tom furiously, who had followed Harry around and was now looming before him like some ominous shadow.

"No," said Harry coolly, before he rubbed his throbbing scar and scowled. "And stop being angry." He then shot him an assessing glance. "Will you come?"

"Of course I have to come along, don't I?" hissed out Tom acerbically, his expression dark and seething. "You're such an imbecile that you'll most likely get killed if I'm not there to prevent it!"

Harry merely nodded. "Good. Get ready then."

Tom clenched his teeth, glaring at him for full measure, before he turned to his own trunk.

About thirty minutes later, Harry decided they were quite prepared. Both dressed in their warmest muggle clothes, with mittens and Slytherin scarves added to the mix, with Ulysses snuggled inside Harry's jersey, head and front paws popping out from above the collar, compass and shrunken Comet 180 in a pocket, and satchel with Invisibility Cloak, Norway map, and vials of potions.

"I think that's all," said Harry, casting his surroundings another look in case he had forgotten anything that could be useful.

When nothing came to mind, he widely grinned at Tom. "Let's go."

His brother glowered at him for his efforts, before he ill-temperedly followed Harry to the door.

Just when Harry was about to yank it open, someone else did from the other side, and he nearly smashed into Alphard.

The boy quickly regained his balance and stared, his big grey eyes swiveling from one to the other, before his eyebrows shot to his hairline, as he blinked at them, baffled. "Where are you going dressed like a pair of wizeskimos?"

Harry brightened at the sight of him, and quickly shot his brother a glance. "Go on, I'll catch up to you in a second."

Tom gave them both his most ugly sneer, particularly venomous at Alphard, before he stalked through the door.

When they were alone, Alphard glanced up and down Harry with amusement. "It is spring, you know? And the evening is not that cold outside, I just came from-"

"Al," Harry said urgently, grasping his friend's shoulders, "Tom and I will be gone from the castle for some hours. In case someone comes asking for him or me, can you cover up for us? In any way you can think of?"

It wasn't likely it would be needed, but ever since the Yule Ball, Olive Hornby had taken to appear in Slytherin House at all hours, wanting to see Tom.

Harry hadn't asked his brother how the dance had gone, though it was clear that it must have been Hornby's most dreamy night of her life, given the unhealthy obsession she seemed to have developed for Tom.

If there were any students the Slytherins deigned to allow into their territory, it was Ravenclaws as pureblooded as them. Though Harry wasn't particularly thrilled that his brother was giving Olive Hornby their weekly passwords. It outright irritated him to see the girl always hanging out in their common room, breathlessly waiting for Tom to show up.

Alphard stared at him in complete bewilderment, and Harry was quick to add, "Say we're feeling sick - something bad we ate for dinner."

The boy then stared at him, frowning with worry. "You'll be gone from Hogwarts? Where are you two going?"

"Don't have time to explain," said Harry hastily. "I'll tell you when I'm back." He shot him a pleading look. "But will you do it?"

"Yes, of course," said Alphard instantly, giving him a decisive nod of the head.

Harry shot him a deeply grateful smile, and turned to leave, but the boy halted him by briefly touching his arm.

"Harry, whatever has happened, wherever you're going," said Alphard softly, gazing at him with big grey eyes filled with concern, "you are going to be alright - right?"

Harry stared at his best friend, feeling a swelling surge of warmth and fondness for him.

He grinned and patted him on the back. "Sure."