The Second Chance

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of J. K. Rowling and Kurinoone's universe. This story is written with permission from Kurinoone, and is based on Kurinoone's fabulous, beyond awesome story- "The Darkness Within" (which was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's wonderful story- "The Shattered Prophesy").

Chapter 9: Building Mysteries

Ron was still chortling as they made their way back to the Castle for lunch; Damien listening amusedly to Ron's animated speech. His redheaded friend kept making exaggerated motions with his hands, not to mention undignified squealing which was supposed to resemble the scream Draco made back at the Potions lab. By the end of the story, Ron looked more like a fool than Draco Malfoy.

Kit trailed behind the trio quietly, his eyes roving around, as though drinking in every bit of Hogwarts. He needed a detailed map of Hogwarts to ensure his plans would not go awry. So far, he only had mountains of vague sketches and drawings, which were obtained by trawling through the flowery descriptions in Hogwarts: A History, and with the help of his father.

Voldemort had also mentioned something about the Room of Requirement... that would be a good place to plot his strategies. He had spent most of last night drawing out details about Hogwarts and figuring out other hidden passageways. The Dark Lord confirmed that there were at least three. On the other hand, the obtuse redhead, Ron Weasley, might not be a good Head Boy, but he was certainly informative when he gave Kit a quick tour of Hogwarts. They had visited the first, second and third floor classrooms last night ten minutes before curfew, and Kit had drawn more information out of Ron than the redhead had realized. The One- Eyed- Witch portrait passageway Weasley had let slip, for instance.

"Hey, Kit!"

Ron's voice broke through Kit's train of thoughts. Looking up, he found the redhead gesturing wildly, beckoning Kit to follow him. Sighing, Kit passed by Hermione and reached the Head Boy, who was standing on the top flight of stairs.

"We're having lunch now, Kit," Ron informed Kit, grinning all over his freckly face. "Care to join us? If you do, I can show you the amazing Quidditch Pitch Hogwarts has, and the broomshed before Defense begins. What about it?"

Kit lifted his blue eyes to meet Ron's and smiled. "Sounds great."

Damien slid down into his seat beside Dean Thomas as Ron continued to entertain Kit. Ginny, too, joined them, sitting between the Gryffindor transfer student and Hermione.

Dean looked up when he saw Damien approaching and gave the youngest Potter a wide grin.

"So, you're the Captain now, aren't you?" Dean said loudly and directly.

This sudden statement nearly made Damien choke on his sandwich. "Wha-?"

Dean laughed and elbowed his best friend, Seamus. "I told you so! It really is our Damien!"

The youngest Potter groaned and swallowed the rest of his bacon- and- egg sandwich in one single gulp. "Look, Dean-" he began, but Dean didn't seem to listen to him.

"You must be the first, to be made Captain at fourteen!" he continued, putting an arm around Damien and nearly strangling the sole heir of the Potter family. "This is simply wicked. Why didn't you tell? Never mind, I'll tell the rest."

Damien swatted his friend's arm away, struggling to get up, alarm bells ringing off in his head. He expected Dean to shout any moment- to proclaim a huge mistake to the entire Gryffindor house-

"No!" Damien said loudly and clearly, standing up as he did so. To his surprise, Dean was still munching through his vegetable pie. Damien had purposely raised the volume of his voice to cover Dean's expected shouts of glee, so now it seemed as though the youngest Potter had yelled abnormally loudly for no express reason.

Many eyes were on him now. Deciding to get through it all the same, Damien continued. "I am not the Quidditch Captain," he announced to the Gryffindor table. "So please do not mistake me for having such a great... honor, anymore."

Merlin, that had to be the worst speech he'd ever made. Or was it considered a speech? Speaking aloud in front of a group of assembled students counted as one, didn't it? But aforementioned students weren't assembled- they were merely at the Great Hall for lunch. Oh never mind.

There was loud chorus of, "Then who is it?"

Ah, so it was time for revenge. The youngest Potter grinned wickedly as a certain redheaded girl dropped the sandwich she was holding.

"Our very pretty and humble belle of Hogwarts!" Damien said evilly, watching as Ginny pretended to be very interested in her scrambled eggs.

"Who?" said several voices at once.

Dean was ecstatic. "Is it Demelza Robins or Ginny?"

Both aforementioned Quidditch players shook their head simultaneously. Damien, however, noticed that Ginny already had her wand ready. Wary of the redhead's hexes, Damien decided to back off, albeit rather reluctantly.

"You can ask them both," he suggested.

Ginny gave a silent moan and turned away. It was therefore slightly disconcerting for her to find Kit Mason's piercing blue eyes resting on her. She met his gaze and offered an uncomfortable smile.

Kit smiled politely and looked away. "Congratulations," he told her in an undertone.

Ginny smiled. "Thanks. But how did you know it was me?" she asked curiously. "Was I that obvious?"

Kit's eyes darted to Ginny's wand and back. "You neglected stealth in your haste to reach your wand," he replied.

"So it was obvious I was going to hex Damien if he told?" Ginny said with a suggested laugh.

Kit merely shrugged and picked up his goblet to drink. Ginny was just about to say something else before the penny dropped. Either Damien had given it away, deciding to ignore the potential harm of her wand, or the Gryffindors had figured out that straight Demelza Robins lacked greatly in the skill of lying, whereas she was known to be experienced.

"Ginny! You're Captain?"

Even Ron whirled around, a horrified expression on his face. "You?"

Damien's familiar laughter rang in the background as all faces swivelled to face her. Ginny felt her face heat up. "Look guys," she began, trying to stay calm. "I-"

"Blimey, why didn't you tell? Where's your badge?"

Dean was ecstatic, he'd already reached Ginny and was enveloping her in half a hug, causing Ron's surprise to change briefly into one of suspicion. Kit, deciding he preferred to be left out of the commotion, got up to leave the Hall.

"Congratulations, Ginny- I'm so glad it's you!" Dean said again, pumping her hand up and down again to emphasise the point.

"Yes, thank you, I-" Ginny turned her head sideways to avoid Dean's obscuring figure. Her eyes found the empty seat beside her- and quickly searched the Hall. It was as she expected; Kit had left the table.

Ginny watched the new Gryffindor disappear round the corridor over Dean's shoulder, feeling an inexplicable well of slight disappointment, before Dean's smile shook her out of her daze.

"So... it's Defense now," said Ron, a tad unecessarily.

Kit had a sudden upswing of mood after visiting the Quidditch Pitch. "Yes," he agreed whole- heartedly, his smile a tad wider than usual... which somehow seemed slightly alarming. "It's Defense now."

Ron shot his new friend a glance. "Are you really that ecstatic about Professor Wynter's class?" he asked sardnonically.

Kit didn't reply; they had reached the classroom. Hermione had quickly found the front seat and set down her books on it, looking excited. Lavender, Parvati and a few other Ravenclaw girls had quickly filed in and did the same. Ron scowled and led Kit to the back of the class to avoid the giggling girls. It hadn't much effect, however, as Padma Patil and company were seated directly in front of them.

Professor Wynter strode in after Neville, his wand already out as he surveyed the class of students before him. If he did notice the girls goggling over his looks, he paid them no attention. Bright green eyes roved around the classroom for a while, before he tapped the wand for attention.

Silence was immediate for a successful three seconds, before Padma broke out into a giggle. Behind her, Ron tried to smother his laughter, but wasn't altogether successful.

"Back of the class, second last row," Professor Wynter snapped suddenly, causing Ron to straighten hurriedly in panic. "Is there a problem?"

"N-No sir," Ron replied hurriedly, shooting Kit a panicked look.

Kit merely shrugged and smirked. Ron had the grace to look incredulous at Kit's expression.

Smirked? Really, was now the time?

"On Weasley's right, you seem to have the answer?"

Kit looked up, shrugging carelessly as he did so. "Are you sure you care to be enlightened, Professor Wynter?" the Gryffindor transfer student asked instead.

The dark Professor smiled humorlessly and tilted his head to one side in answer.

Kit nodded. "It was no trouble sir. The only problem can only be attributed to you and your glamourous looks, no offense meant, sir."

Many chortled, before the silence fell once more. The Professor's gaze, if possible, turned a shade colder. "None taken," he said lightly, offering the class a trademark smirk, and he gestured for Kit to sit. The students, especially the girls, relaxed visibly and turned dewy- eyed all over again. Ron rolled his eyes. Kit however, was still smiling... again, as though indulged in some kind of private joke.

"Today," Professor Wynter began, "We will be learning the basics on how to defend oneself against Dark Arts. In all truthfulness, there is only one way to defend yourself when encountering Dark curses. Perhaps one of you could tell me the art of that defense- yes, Miss Patil, is it?"

"The Shield Charm, Protego," said Parvati, eager to answer the Professor's first question.

Professor Wynter smiled slightly. "Protego will certainly not defend you from Dark Curses- they punch through your shield. No, the answer is much more simple than that. Weasley, perhaps you could enlighten us?"

Ron winced. The probability of him answering a question that someone else had got wrong was sadly miniscule. But then he suddenly had a vision; he remembered how Harry had duelled as he fought off the Death- Eaters' curses- "Duro," answered Ron immediately. "Then a wall would appear before you and take the impact of the curse."

"And that leaves you injured or killed by the debris, which is no better off," said the Professor lightly.

"T-Then, I'll Transfigure the debris," suggested Ron. "Into something soft- cotton wool, for instance..."

"Which will doubtless obscure your vision, and handicaps your preparation for the next oncoming curse. No, Weasley, the answer is relatively simple. Think again."

"Umm..." Ron automatically looked at his partner- which happened to be Kit, who was looking elsewhere- for help. Ron tried to convey his plea by nudging Kit, but the boy dodged easily. Ron looked annoyed. However, Kit grinned at looked up at the redhead, nodding as he did so.

Ron was completely nonplussed.

"I already gave you the answer," Kit said in an irritated undertone.

Then understanding hit home. "Dodge!" Ron exclaimed. "The answer is to dodge!"

Professor Wynter smiled. "Correct." He motioned for Ron to take a seat, and the Head Boy did so, grinning.

"Thanks, Kit," he whispered to his partner.

"Weasley's original idea was not a bad one," Professor Wynter continued, striding to the front of the class as he did so. "You could use the charm Duro for the wall to take the impact, but instead of transfiguring the debris, you could simply use the shield charm- Protego. However, this requires remarkable skill, speed, consumes magical energy, time and much practice to perfect the move. Dodging would be a better idea- unless Dark curses are fired at you in every direction, leaving you no space to avoid them.

"So this is what we are going to do in this lesson. All those seated behind the third row is Group A, those in front are in Group B. Group B, you are to remain before the line I have drawn. Group A- you are able to move freely within the confines of this classroom. Now, all stand up please."

Professor Wynter waved his wand in the air, and all the chairs and tables disappeared rapidly from the class. "On the count of three," he continued, "Group B will start firing curses- nothing that causes potential harm, mind- at Group A. Group A, you are not allowed to deflect those curses- only dodge. Understood?"

There was several murmurs of agreement before Professor Wynter spoke again. "On my count, one- two- three!"

"Stupefy!"

"Impemendita!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Some like Hermione were using non- verbal spells, shooting various jinxes and hexes at the students behind. Within seconds, pandemonium ensued, and the students behind ducked and veered about wildly, barely registering what they were doing. Ron's luck held, surprisingly. Whenever a spell came, he'd throw himself onto the floor and roll out of the way of any jets of light. His movements were clumsy, but effective enough. Kit, however, rarely moved- unless someone pushed him, or the jets of light would hit him if he didn't. If the latter was the case, he'd just step aside calmly.

It was only when Professor Wynter told them to stop when Kit realized his mistake. All of Group A, except him, Ron and Neville were still standing. The rest were either stunned or immobilised on the floor. Professor Wynter removed the jinxes on the rest of them, and Group A was ordered to join Group B at the front of the class.

All except the three that remained standing. Ron was in the worst shape, panting and coated with dust. Sweat was glistening on Neville's brow, but otherwise he looked just as calm and collected as Kit did.

Kit mentally cursed himself. He'd effectively put himself under the spotlight, when attention was the very least thing he needed. It might sabotage his entire plan. After he'd been so careful! He still made this fatal mistake.

"Congratulations to all three of you, for dodging the curses effectively just now," said Professor Wynter, smiling slightly as he regarded the trio. "This is the final round, before you will take your turn to fire at Group A. Let's see who emerges as the champion."

The professor stepped back to the front of the class. "Group B," he commanded. "On the count of three- one, two, three- fire!"

Ron moaned as he ducked out of the way, rolling on the floor as he did so. Neville weaved about with lightning speed, actions a blur. Only Kit stood in the middle, tensed, fighting all his instincts to duck.

It was harder than he expected. When three jets of light came thundering at him simultaneously, it took all Kit's will to lock and plant his feet firmly in place, before allowing the triple curse to blast him off his feet, immobilised. The class gave 'oohed' as Ron, distracted by his friend's fall, fell after being hit by a Stunner. Only Neville was left, emerging as the champion.

Professor Wynter smiled and congratulated Neville, before restoring Ron and Kit back to their feet.

"Although you did really well," he told them, "I hope that was not your best. I'm sure you could do better than that."

Ron nodded and appreciated Professor Wynter's compliment. The emerald gaze however, lingered on Kit's impassive face, before he turned around and commanded for Group B to take Group A's position.

"That Defense lesson was overwhelming," Ron groaned as they tucked into dinner later that day. "It's a surprise I'm still on my feet."

"You probably wouldn't be if you hadn't slept through History of Magic," Hermione teased, before adding her trademark reprimand, "Honestly Ron, our NEWTs exams are drawing close soon. If you want to have any chance of passing History of Magic..."

Ron didn't even let his bushy haired friend continue. "Hermione, there is no point in taking up History of Magic. You don't even need a pass in History to be a Healer. Come to think of it, a pass in History isn't a requirement for any career you care to pursue."

Damien couldn't help but agree, but he said nothing to offend both his friends. Instead, he decided to change the subject. "So how was your Defense lesson today? From what I heard, it seemed to be pretty cool."

"Cool?" Ron pretended to faint. "Alright, it wasn't all that bad- certainly was thrilling, but I nearly died of heart attack. We were forced to dodge the curses instead of blocking them or using our shields, in preparation of facing Dark Curses. We were split into two groups, and Group A fired jinxes and what not at the other, until few are left standing. Then the champion is determined."

Damien looked pretty interested. "So who came in first?"

"Neville was champion in our group- I came in second, Kit came in third," Ron replied, devouring his chicken pie as he did so. "In Group A, Dean came in first, Hermione second. There was no third place, though- Seamus, Lavender and Parvati got hit almost at the same time."

"Dean? You came in first?" Damien seemed rather amazed at the fact.

The elder Gryffindor grinned proudly. "Guess playing Quidditch and dodging Bludgers really comes into use," he said.

Hermione glanced across at Kit as Ron, Damien and Dean were drawn into their obssession- Quidditch. The transfer student seemed to be preoccupied- as he had been the entire day, especially so after Defense class. Unlike the others, Hermione had noticed Kit's failure at dodging the curses to the end rather suspiciously. She had seen him go taut, preparing for action; seen his eyes narrow in speculation, noticed his muscles tense up to dodge aside... and there was something about his expression when he practically glared at the approaching curses.

Something was definitely off.

Suddenly, Kit snapped up; alert, his gaze roaming around the Hall. Hermione quickly looked away. Was it possible that Kit had somehow felt someone staring at him?

Why was he so... aloof?

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ginny waved a hand in front of her, snapping the Head Girl out of her daze.

"Y-Yes, I was just thinking about... Defense class," Hermione forced a smile. Out of the corner of her vision, she felt Kit's prickling gaze landing on her, and somehow it made her pulse rate increase mildly. Ginny nodded, though from her expression, Hermione could tell that the youngest Weasley did not believe her.

But like the true friend she was, Ginny never pressed her for an answer.

It was already past midnight when Damien made his way up from the Common Room to the boys' dormitories. Ron and Hermione still used the Gryffindor Common Room despite having the Heads Dormitories, just so to be together with their fellow Gryffindors. Both Ron and Hermione hadn't looked into the Head Dormitories yet, but the Head Boy secretly promised to allow the youngest Potter entry when they did- although it wasn't exactly legal, speaking by Hogwarts' rules.

Damien gave a constricted sigh and flopped onto his bed, silently urging the darkness to engulf him into blissful oblivion. But sleep wouldn't come.

At the edge of his vision, Damien saw his elder brother's familiar figure standing in the semi- darkness, smirking. The familiarity of the expression brought about a pang in his heart, and the youngest Potter closed his eyes resolutely, willing the vision to go away.

He knew it was a dream. Or a nightmare. A vision- unreal. He wanted it to go away- badly, before he lost control, before he did something desperate-

At that thought, Damien felt startled. Now he was sounding remarkably like Harry. Perhaps he'd take Harry's advice- to train if he couldn't sleep? That way, he could tire himself, and keep his mind off his elder brother.

No, training would most likely bring about more memories of Harry. Not a good idea.

Frustratedly, Damien lay back in his four- poster bed, burying his face deep in his pillow, as if to fence out every human ill.

If he thought Hogwarts would cure him of his elder brother's untimely departure from his life, he was proved absymally wrong. Dead wrong.

Every single corner. Every nook.

Visiting the old Quidditch Pitch and the broomshed last night. Remembered grabbing an ancient Shooting Star from it, for the first and last time in his life- because he had lent Harry his prized Nimbus 2000.

When Ron had finished the introductions to Kit, they'd moved on.

But he knew Hermione caught the hurt in his eyes.

Every moment. Every second. Every conversation.

Hours before, having dinner with his closest friends.

"How was your Defense lesson? From what I heard it was pretty cool."

"Cool?"

Ron's dramatic show of fainting, before launching into details.

Neville came first, me second and Kit came third.

Remembered thinking, if Harry were there- doubtless he'd been champion.

Remembered wondering, what Harry would think of the Defense lesson.

Would he have found it cool? Up to expectations? Or simply boring and uneducating, just as Harry had found the Hogwarts' curriculum lacking? Damien didn't know; and he never would.

Every face.

Colin Creevey and his little brother, Dennis. Harry had been particularly scary to the siblings, to put them off being his fans. But Damien knew it never worked, for though they were a little more wary of the Dark Prince since, it didn't stop them viewing and cooing over the photos they had secretly snapped when Harry was otherwise preoccupied.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Sending invitations to Harry by owl. Harry's confusion and embarassment, before turning into anger. Damien's amusement as he carried the sixteen envelopes, making Harry infrutiated.

Neville, facing Harry in a duel-

Stop it! he told himself sternly. Pondering over Harry's death wouldn't bring him any good. Not a single ounce. But his thoughts refused to stray away...

Harry was like a dream come true. When Damien had been yearning for an elder brother to annoy, to boss him around. Not exactly the sibling he had pictured in mind, but Harry was just... suited for the role. Perfectly. Even though sometimes the Dark Prince's anger overcame his rational thinking and actions. But like all dreams, he faded. Just like that, with barely few possessions in memory of him.

From deep within his robes, Damien produced the crumpled singed piece of parchment, the last bittersweet reminder of his elder brother's existence.

Barely a few words.

Blurry, crabbed handwriting.

Fear.

A smudged, simple 'goodbye'.

Damien fingered the fragile parchment one last time, before sleep claimed him, and his hand thudded onto his pillow, sinking his entire being into blissful oblivion.

Unnoticed by the youngest Potter, the singed parchment drifted from between his fingers, landing lightly on the floor of the boys' dormitories.

The next morning, Ron found Kit to be in a darker mood than usual. He barely commuinicated at all, aside from a few non- commital grunts and a silencing gaze. The redhead didn't know what to make of it, so he decided to just let it be.

When they had finished breakfast together, Kit had already long since disappeared from the Gryffindor table. Ron gave the empty seat beside him a half- hearted glance, before shrugging it off. He had two free periods before Transfiguration. However, it wasn't that appealing without his friends- Hermione, who unlike Ron, took Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Both Damien and Ginny had classes too.

He walked back to the Common Room alone, before noticing Dean and Seamus playing a game of Wizarding Chess. Both Gryffindors beckoned him over enthusiastically, as the redhead was particularly good at the game. It was only through their second match when Kit arrived at the portrait hole, his face schooled into an expressionless mask.

Ron turned around and noticed Kit's subtle change in demeanor. There seemed to be an invisible sign hung over Kit, that screamed 'PRIVACY', which Ron did not dare to approach as of yet. After all, he barely knew the boy- sure, he had made an effort towards a hopeful friendship, but Kit just wasn't like the other Gryffindors. Ron found what Hermione had told him pretty true, though he was rather skeptical at his bushy haired friend's point of view at first. Kit wasn't easy- going, he barely talked or offered opinions, he only quirked smiles and retorts when he seemed to be a good mood, was usually in a fourth dimension and had alarming mood swings.

But the 'alarming mood swings', as Hermione put it, could be attributed to the fact of Quidditch, Ron reasoned. Kit had suddenly seemed like a normal, even friendly Gryffindor yesterday at Defense, directly after Ron had showed the transfer student the Quidditch Pitch and broomshed. Not to mention the little stories Ron told about Fred and George sneaking into Hogsmeade through Hogwarts' secret passageways.

At these thoughts, Ron was suddenly amazed by his observation skills. Hermione would be proud! The only other person he had been alert enough to sense the other's emotions, and stop talking when the other cast him a look, was in fact a friend he had barely known for a year- Harry. There always had been something about Harry's sudden change in mood or demeanor that prodded Ron to comply and fall silent. Usually, he never noticed- too faraway he was in the dreams of his own voice, but around both Kit and Harry... the way they generated waves of unwelcome when annoyed was not unfamiliar.

Ron only broke out of his daze when Dean's bishop kicked one of his pawns off the table, into his lap. When he blinked again, Kit had long since gone.

"Where is Kit?" Ron felt the urge to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"He just entered, then left again a moment ago- when you were still staring fixedly at the chessboard. Why, were you so occupied you didn't hear him?" Seamus replied. Both Dean and Seamus were playing against the redhead.

"Really?" Ron was surprised. "Are you sure it was him? I thought he had Arithmancy class."

"I'm absolutely certain," replied Seamus in a bored tone, as he tried to get his rook to kick off Ron's knight. "Mason even nodded his head in our direction in acknoledgement, but I suppose you were so busy planning your next move you didn't even greet him."

"Anyway, Kit doesn't take Ancient Runes, so he probably has one free period before Transfiguration... I say, we'd better get going as well," Dean said as he noticed the time. Seamus groaned.

"But we haven't beat Ron yet!"

Ron grinned back half- heartedly. "It would take you longer than a day for you to beat me, if it ever happens at all," he teased.

xXx

During his free between Arithmancy and Transfiguration, Kit a.k.a Harry was spending his time in the library, alone, plotting.

In all honesty, he could have the wards ready by the end of this week, but he had been no closer to solving his mystery yet. He'd worked on the Hogwarts maps and sketches, his plans for Voldemort to lead the Death- Eater army and conquer Hogwarts all this while, he had neglected the real, secret reason he'd been so keen to enter the school. Revenge was certain- but he needed something else, which was a more pressing matter on his mind; truth.

The letter his supposed Imperiused self had written was still secure in his pocket. He'd meant to start building more trust of Ron Weasley towards him, as he knew that the redhead was close to Potter, which was essential to his plans. So far, it was his second day at Hogwarts, and he hadn't actually hatched a proper plan- but last night, he had found something that brought him closer to his goal than he dared imagine. Or perhaps, even farther away from the supposed simple truth of his being Imperiused.

The same singed parchment, same handwriting.

Only one difference.

Slightly different content.

After successfully sneaking out of the dormitories to confirm Weasley's story about the secret passageway to Hogsmeade, he'd returned past midnight to find Damien Potter still awake. Although he was under the Disillusionment Charm, doubtless the youngest Potter would find it suspicious if the portrait door simply swung open and close without anyone entering it. After pausing to listen and detect the presence of magical aura in the Common Room, something his father had trained him to do, Harry had felt Damien's aura leaving the Common Room towards the boys' dormitories.

It was only then when he felt safe to enter Gryffindor's Common Room.

He ran over a few of his plans in his mind to kill time, and wait for Potter to hopefully, be sleepy enough not to notice his invisible entry into the boys' dormitories. Harry had shut the drapes around his four poster bed beforehand while he pretended to get into bed after bidding Ron goodnight, and then slipping out immediately from the other side, exiting the Common Room when Thomas and Finnigan entered the portrait door past curfew.

They had doubled back for Thomas' Potions essay, which was missing from the Gryffindor's bag. It'd been quite simple, really, how things worked out.

Kit had avoided aiming at Dean during Defense, choosing more potential targets- like Hermione Granger. He purposely fired a dozen off- course spells, close enough- but they missed her altogether. When his quick succession of firing jinxes did not bring down the bushy- haired Gryffindor, other students' attention was diverted to firing at Hermione. The same happened to Finnigan, as well.

Dean, to be fair, was pretty good at dodging himself. In the end, Kit made sure Thomas emerged as the champion by shooting of five Stunners at Granger in one go, leaving her no space to duck. This drew more attention to Kit than he would have liked- for the rest of the Hogwarts students were horribly incapable at firing spells. The average could only perform one spell within ten seconds after utter concentration, and some just lowered their wands tiredly after a few simple hexes.

Anyway, Thomas emerged first in Group A, thus Dean was doubtless included into the conversation about Defense class at dinner. This gave Kit the opportunity of quietly Summoning the Gryffindor's essay. He placed a Disillusionment Charm on it before placing the essay under the Gryffindor table.

When they went back to the Common Room, Kit dropped a subtle comment about their heavy load of homework- within earshot of Thomas, of course. And when Dean started groaning and comparing their amount of homework, like Kit was pretty certain he would- Dean immediately noticed the absence of his essay. The loose buckle on his bag convinced him that he had dropped it at the Great Hall, too.

After pretending to get into bed, Kit estimated it was about time the Disillusionment Charm to wear off- he'd been careful on the strength of the spell. So he simply Disillusioned himself, nipped back to the Common Room, and when Thomas and Finnigan returned with the Potions essay, Kit slipped right out before the portrait door closed.

The perfect plan.

Except when he'd returned to the boys' dormitories and paused to check if Potter was still awake, feigning sleep- he found the familiar piece of singed parchment, addressed to Potter, by him.

Damien's splayed fingers on the mattress clearly indicated he was holding something, most probably the piece of parchment, before he fell asleep. But why? Had he, Harry, been kind to the youngest Potter under the influence of the Imperius Curse? Was that the reason the youngest Potter valued the piece of singed parchment?

And the most pressing question- why did Potter have the letter? Harry had quickly made a copy of it to study- and it was much to his building sense of unease that he discovered the handwriting as similar as the letter he found in his own room. It could have been photocopied for all it seemed.

The 'a' and 'i' spelling Damien Potter's name was smudged. The word 'sorry' in the second line was smudged. The letter 'g' in the last word of the fourth line was slightly italic, leaning towards the left.

The letters were completely identical, except for the fact that the one he found in his room was longer, and had more content.

Somewhere far off, the bell rang.

Kit slowly stood up, gathering his books before leaving the library for Transfiguration. He was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, even if it meant he wouldn't be seeing his father for a longer time than planned.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Please drop me a thought and tell me what you think about this chapter!

Take care,
Epsilon Scorpii