Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter or Supernatural.

{Blah}=Harry

{Blah}= Gabriel

~Blah~=Hayden Potter

"Blah"= Parseltongue

Thundramon: While relationships are inevitable to occur, there won't be anything graphic. I'm not good at writing that anyway. But I'm glad you like it!

Kirei Ao Tori: I specifically didn't put Harry/Dri as a pairing. I have my reasons, and you'll find out what those reasons are before third year I think :)

Paxloria: It's not always the action that counts, but the reason. Read on and that might seem less cryptic.

Starlightgilgalad: Ah, yes! Lennie/Nick will be making a return appearance at some point in the future. Who knows? He might become a series regular!

wolfawaken: Yeah that's a problem I often find. I try and find those mistakes before I post but I am prone to miss a few.

Jenn008: Here you go :)

Yana 5: Glad you're enjoying it!

DarkKitsuneFluffy: Glad you liked it. You'll see why he did nothing in this chapter or the next, I can't quite remember where I put that scene.

Ramen-lover: I always liked Arthur.

Thanks to all of you for your reviews. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

viridianaln9: Well here's the next one, glad you liked it.

Second Year: The New King

After the trip to diagon, the large group had floo'd back to the Weasley's home. The Weasley's themselves went through first; Arthur was grinning broadly at having met two muggles and beaten up Lucius Malfoy with a toilet seat. Though he suspected it was the twins who'd passed it to him, he wasn't sure and was in too much of a good mood to even scold them for it. Molly was more than willing to do that for him, though, whilst at the same time telling the patriarch off for 'setting a bad example'. Fred and George alternated between staring at the wands that had replaced their uncle's Fabian and Gideon's and defending themselves against the accusations Molly was throwing at them. They glared at Harry when he came through for having landed them in degnoming duty.

Ginny had continued to creepily stare at Hayden, a large blush covering her face that clashed horribly with her hair. Harry was somewhat worried that he'd have to start hiring Crabbe and Goyle like people to act as bodyguards for his twin. He wondered idly how much Malfoy would pimp them out for.

{Doubt he'd go for it at all. They're probably the only action he's getting}

{True. But then again we can 'offer' a good bargain}

{By offer I sincerely hope you mean pranking him: there's no one aside from Dumbledore, Snape, Lockhart, James, and Lily who deserve it more than the mini-Uriel}

{Really, you see Uriel? How come?}

{Well, both Uriel and the Malfoy's are selfish, lying brainless douche bags}

{Yeah, but Uriel was far more powerful than any Malfoy ever could be, and at least he was able to hold decent conversation so long as you avoided the whole 'mud-monkey' topic}

{Agree to disagree}

Cedric had followed soon after Ginny had left through the flames while Anna stayed behind until all of the children had gone through. Harry had apprehensively stepped into the flickering green flames only to end up exiting the Burrow's fireplace with a slight stumble, but somehow managed to avoid being launched out into the far wall. He smugly puffed out his chest and adopted a very Lockhart like pose. His grin lasted for about two seconds, right up until Terry was spat out behind him. The older Ravenclaw collided with his friend sending them both sprawling to the ground, whereupon Harry realized he'd forgotten to move out of the way.

The two were just pushing themselves up off the floor when Hayden followed them in a similarly graceless manner. The three ended up tangled on the kitchen floor trying to untangle their limbs while those that had already come through frowned (Mr and Mrs Weasley) while Ginny continued staring at Hayden; whose shirt had ridden up slightly; Ron was oblivious and ranting that they should have 'got' Draco while they could, unaware that Harry had stuck a little surprise on the blonde ponces robes. Fred, George and Cedric had absolutely no reservations about bursting into hysterical laughter.

Seconds later, Dri gracefully stepped out of the fire and casually stepped over the entwined legs that the boys were having trouble separating. He only spared them a single, pitiful glance before joining his partners in laughing themselves to death.

~Stupid naturally graceful long-limbs~

{Agreed}

"Hayden!" Terry gasped as the aforementioned boy accidentally pressed his weight down on Terry's chest "Get off!" The older Potter was about 5 inches taller than Harry, and had maybe three on Terry plus he was a fair bit heavier than the stick thin latter. Not to mention, Terry's ribs were quite weak, which Harry had picked up on days earlier during a curiosity driven body scan.

"Sorry, mate" Hayden said as he rolled to the side after they'd finally separated the limbs.

"Right, well I'll be borrowing Hayden for a little stress relieving exercise for a while. Cya!" with that Harry grabbed Hayden's arm and pulled him through the fireplace with a call of 'The Grove'. Mid way through the journey though he flew straight into his trunk, not willing to relive an equally embarrassing exit at the Diggory home. However the floo had thrown him off slightly and so they arrived in Harry's training room about two feet of the ground. Hayden dropped and landed on his side with an 'oomph' but Harry simply used his wings to correct his own position.

"Okay," Harry grinned as Hayden once more got to his feet "Now you can rage"

With that, Hayden released the fury his occlumency shields were just barely keeping at bay. At Harry's instruction he pulled a machete from the sheath that had just appeared on his belt and charged at the training dummies that Harry had encircled them with.

As he went to town on the training program, Harry could hear his twin muttering the names Dumbledore and Lockhart under his breath.

Twenty minuted later, Hayden stood panting as he surveyed the destroyed mannequins that he'd relentlessly assaulted. Harry stood next to him in a black ankle length duster coat, black shirt and faded jeans. The younger hummed thoughtfully. {If he can do that when he's weak from the blocks Dumbles has on him, he'd be near unstoppable by the time he leaves school if they were to be removed} {Hmm. Give him twenty years and he could be as dangerous to all things supernatural as John Winchester was} {I agree in terms of combat. But overall even more so. He has magic to back whatever skills he picks up as tools of the trade} {True}

~Don't talk about me as if I'm not here~ Even Hayden's mental voice sounded tired.

"Do follow me, brother dearest," Harry instructed, leading Hayden through the door and into the living room, where he pushed Hayden down on to the couch, he himself sitting in the adjacent arm chair.

"Feeling better?" Harry asked, after a few minutes of silence.

"No," Hayden snapped back, before sighing and rubbing a hand over his eyes "But better than I was before. Thank you,"

"No problem. Want to tell me what in particular is bothering you?"

Hayden started and stopped several times before managing to get out what he wanted to say "Everything. All of it. I don't know what to think. First ten years of my life I looked up to him," Harry didn't need to ask who "I didn't know he was involved in sending you away. Not until you told me at the end of the year. Now I find out he's been blocking my magic and dad too. I don't know, Har. I'm scared, angry; furious even; I just don't know..."

Harry shifted onto the seat next to his brother and wrapped one arm around his shoulder (or tried too).

"If it's any consolation, I think the blocks James put on you were for your own protection," Harry commented in a sympathetic tone, one that was drastically out of character for him, but his was Hayden. He'd do the same only for Dri, Alice and Terry. Not even the Diggory's (as much as Harry considered them part of his mismatched family) had reached this point with him.

"What do you mean?" Hayden asked miserably.

"Parents often put blocks on overly powerful children. It limits the amount of accidental magic they can do, stops 'em from hurting themselves. I reckon that's what they were and then the plank forgot to take them down," he paused "Or was forced to forget,"

Hayden's brow furrowed in thought, then his eyes widened "An obliviate?"

"Maybe. I can't imagine the whiskers wants someone to outshine him. With those blocks on, you were always going to be weaker than him and thus can't take his spotlight. Those blocks left on much longer, combined with his own could have permanently stunted your magic"

Hayden sputtered "Th-that, that son of a...that mother...DAMN HIM!"

"Oh I'd love too. But unfortunately he's got just under five years left on a contract. I do not want to attract Hell's attention by killing their client before they come to collect," Harry pouted at the loss of opportunity.

"Really?" Hayden asked, incredulous. Then again, the old man had been manipulating them for years so Hayden wouldn't put it past him.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed "but I can't find out what he wanted,"

Hayden thought about it. Harry had mentioned that Dumbledore had five years left, which meant that by the terms of a standard deal, Dumbledore had made the contract when Hayden was seven. For the life of him he couldn't remember seeing anything life altering about the headmaster following that year. Which meant it must be a high-value contract or a low-value. Low value meant that you were given longer than you would have normally and that the deal wasn't considered very important or that the summoner had some bargaining chip that was used to extend their own contract repayment time. High value was the class assigned to the big deals, like bringing someone famous or important (as in Hell's hit list level important) back to life. Those were usually given five years or, in the biggest of the biggest cases such as Sam Winchester's resurrection, only one year. In fact Azazel had only given John Winchester an hour in exchange for Dean's life, and that was with the colt thrown in.

{Oh bravo; Harry I'm so proud}

{Yeah, yeah well done and all that}

"You told me Dumbledore had a contract just to test what I'd remembered from your lesson's?" Hayden asked, a little annoyed.

{Not at all. We just used the opportunity}

{People don't call him an opportunistic bastard for nothing you know}

"So he does have a contract?"

"Yes he does"

"Why do you keep switching between mental and physical talking?" Hayden queried, getting a little side tracked.

"I can't decide which I like more. Besides the point, that is though. Would you like me to remove the blocks now?"

Hayden swallowed nervously. The Goblin had said it was difficult and painful. Though then again after going through Harry's Hell (his training) Hayden suspected that he could take whatever pain this brought with it. Plus he trusted his twin. Harry meanwhile, knew for a certainty that Hayden was going to say yes, and was building up his grace to act as he needed it to when Hayden gave the word.

"Yes," Hayden said, deciding that he wanted them gone.

"Brace yourself then," Harry warned, and then he began.

Hayden grimaced in discomfort and then gasped in pain as he felt something within him begin to break. It felt as though every bone and muscle within his body was being tugged on, battered and set on fire all at the same time. In actuality it was Harry working his grace into Hayden's body and latched on to the block. A wizard or witches magical core was like an extra organ, except that it took the form of pure energy and was invisible to the naked eye. It rushed through the body to every cell from the magical core in the center of the chest, a mass of swirling energy in the heart. Dumbledore's block's were like a cage around that core, limiting the flow of magic and completely blocking some forms of the energy. Harry's grace had latched onto that cage and was now ripping it open forcefully. The ache Hayden was feeling was his body being suddenly flooded with a level of magic it hadn't before been exposed to.

That was also the same reason why he wasn't just breaking the block's straight away in one forceful pull. Allowing all of Hayden's magic out at once would be too much for the boy's body to handle. It would literally tear him apart from the inside. So Harry had to break the bars on the cage piece by piece; sort of like the seals to his darling older half-brother's cell; and let Hayden become accustomed to the magic at his own pace.

Harry had activated a time freeze when he'd entered the trunk, predicting that it would take some time. Seven hours passed inside the trunk with Harry tirelessly working to undo as much as he safely could in one day. Hayden, by this point, was in agony. When the seventh hour came to an end, Harry withdrew his grace from Hayden's body. It took a further twenty minutes for Hayden to be able to move again.

"It's done?" he asked.

"Not quite," Harry replied and explained that Hayden's magic couldn't handle anymore release. Though he was quick to placate Hayden by saying that his metamorph ability was now unlocked completely, and the block's on his animagus, occlumency and elemental abilities were down to half of what they had been. The currently brown haired preteen went on to explain that he'd found what was left of a block on Hayden's general magic. From what he could tell, it had been set by Lily at age 3 (Harry remembered that Hayden had been using accidental magic a lot at around that age, usually to explode things when James forgot about Harry) and was a child's safety block. It blocked 80% of Hayden's wild magic at the time it was set and gradually decreased the amount it was blocking by 10% per year so that by the time he was eleven, his magic should have settled and was unblocked. But, at around age 8, as far as Harry could tell, Dumbledore altered it, and stopped the decrease, leaving nearly a third of Hayden's magic inaccessible.

Harry had just taken that one of too.

"Lily was actually really sensible with that, and it would have given you better control over your magic if Dumbles hadn't interfered," Harry mentioned, giving a rare compliment to the woman.

"How come you never got blocked?"

"Oh I did. But they were all destroyed when Gabe arrived and since I never had any incidents of magic bursts after '81, they just thought I was a squib and didn't put 'em back on," {Your welcome}

"And you couldn't do that for me...why?"

"You think I was always this talented. You'd be right, like, but you know..."

{No you wouldn't, just after he took off from Durzkaban he ended up blowing his lower arm off trying to heal a broken wrist}

{Shush; he doesn't need to know that}

{Maybe not...funny though} He was talking about the way Hayden's face instantly lost all colour, and his eyes snapped to Harry's arm as though double checking that it was still attached.

{Yeah, S'pose so. Can we at least agree not to tell him about the little three-on-one angel fight outside the manor}

{Yeah, probably should keep that one under wraps}

~Puedo oirte, idiota~

{...}

{...}

~It means 'I can hear you, idiots'~

{Yeah I know what it means. When did you learn Spanish?}

~From you. I was bored on night and decided to explore this link. Turns out I can fish knowledge from you: who knew?~

{Not me, that's for sure}

~Yeah, your head is a scary place though; gonna try and avoid it at all costs~

{Yeah sure...wait...did you go through my memories?}

~By accident. Kinda stumbled on them~

{So did you see, you know, that time...}

~Yep. Didn't know a human could bend that way. How the hell did you get someone like that to sleep with you?~

{Well, it was ...}

~A conjured girl? Already know, don't bother making something up. Desperate much?~

{...shut up}

"What fight, anyway?" Hayden asked, massaging his temple "Didn't see that one,"

"Some of Raphael's goon's, by some strange chance, found me at the manor on the day Dobby got in. I won,"

Hayden frowned and slugged him in the arm, only to nearly fall to his knee's in pain as he clutched his broken hand. Hayden whimpered and Harry rolled his eyes before healing the broken bones. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't like it when he don't tell me things," Hayden explained, regretting his admonishment tactic. He made a mental note to himself: hitting Harry hurts.

"The blocks can't be the only thing you wanted to ask about," Harry prompted a few moments later, after a brief silence passed between the two.

"No. The inheritance,"

"What about it,"

"Well, this isn't me being greedy, but isn't it customary to give the majority of your wealth to your heir and then split the remainder between your other kids and any godchildren?"

"It is," Harry nodded "It's why your up for a sixth of the Black Wealth. I've got an equal amount to you and I reckon Alice does too, and then Dri gets the other half, plus the heirlooms, property and most of the McKinnon fortune,"

"Then why did it say I was only getting one third of everything from the Potter's?" Hayden frowned, trying to work it out. He wasn't greedy. But he doubted his parents had split it up equally between him, Alice and Harry and so he was curious as to where everything else was going.

"That would be your father's blind devotion to Dumbledore. You're getting the Peverell wealth because there's a stipulation on that vault that only someone of their blood can use it. But the Potter wealth? Well, I did some digging and Dumbledore is set to inherit an equal amount as you when your parents die. The last third is split unequally between me, Neville, Alice and Dri,"

"What!"

"That's not the worst of it either. James gave Dumbles free reign. His been making large deposits into his own vault, which he took as 'War Funding' for up to eight years after the war was ended. More was used to pay for Ron and Ginny's school tuition; the Weasley's didn't have enough to get seven years schooling for two more children, so Dumbledore used 'his' money to fund them.

"Now he said that it was in honour of Gideon and Fabian Prewett, and to repay the late Septimus Weasley for his help in blocking the dark faction in the Wizengamot. But I think it was really a bid to buy the families loyalty,"

"The Weasley's are in his pocket?" Hayden gasped, astonished.

"Not knowingly, I don't think. They became loyal to him because they see him as an old friend of their deceased relatives who helped them when they were in trouble without asking for anything in return. He basically assured himself of that families loyalty without making it seem like he was gathering support,"

"Okay, now what about Lockhart and Malfoy. Why didn't you do anything?"

"And lose my year's entertainment? Why scare the ponce off now while he still has an out, when I can drive him to the mental ward at St. Mungo's once he's at Hogwarts, where he can't run away without losing face: which he won't do, by the way. Not without something extreme," Harry explained "And do you really think I let Malfoy walk away without any little presents. His robes are set to disappear anytime he's with more than a dozen people at any point in the next five years. So Death Eater meetings are out!" the insane glee on Harry's face was unmistakeable.

"One last thing. The money you gave the Weasley's. How did you work that out?"

"Anna and I. We knew they wouldn't accept charity so we decided to get Arthur hooked on a muggle game and let him 'win' some money instead. Underestimated the cost of everything though. Getting two full sets of Lockharts books, plus new robes, Ginny's equipment, potion's ingredients and three new wands. Lockharts books meant they had to get second hand books in the other subjects,"

"Not Percy," Hayden interrupted "they put a little aside to get him new books for his NEWT years,"

"Aye and Ron could get an Ice-Cream on his own, the twins got some extra prank products and even Molly and Arthur got some new robes made," Harry grinned, "It worked out pretty damn well,"

"But still, one thousand pounds? Besides why didn't you just give him the Galleons straight up. Why have him get it exchanged?"

"Profit." Harry said bluntly

"Huh?"

"If we gave Arthur the galleons we'd be fifty galleons down. But we took ten galleons, converted it and then Arthur had it changed back later, giving him fifty,"

"What? How does that work?" came the confused reply.

"The goblins have a stock pile of Galleons they use specifically for exchanges with the muggleborn's and their parents. Now, trade in a galleon in the muggle world and you're looking at nearly a grand in muggle money, but the Statute of Secrecy prevents that. So the goblins put the galleon to pound rate down as far as they could, which is one galleon to a hundred pounds without muggleborns kicking off.

"However, the goblins are clever. They want more galleons in the wizarding economy because that boost's their own profit and their reputation. Now. that would lead to hyper-inflation in most circumstances, but this is different because it's not the same people with more money, its more people with the same money. So they make the rate different the other way. So now for every hundred quid the muggles trade in, the goblins are inputting five galleons instead of one while the other way they're losing one galleon for the same amount. And thats how we maximized our profit on this little charity venture of ours. Understand?"

Hayden didn't grasp all of the finer concepts, but he got the gist of it. Goblins like to make money, Harry took advantage and increased his money to 500%. His only question was:

"How do we use this?"

They both grinned. Then it grew into a small chuckle and then an evil, maniacal laughter.

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Miles away in an office in a Scottish Castle, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, going over his plans for the coming year. He needed to have some way to get Harry Potter back under his control, but so far the boy had outwitted him at every turn. Even worse, the rebellious influence from both the damn Potter boy and the troublemaker Black was starting to make his weapon less open to his own influence. Albus sighed. Do they not see, he thought, can they not understand that the Greater Good depends on Hayden's loyalty to me.

Harry Potter's power was another thing that unnerved him. The boy must have undergone some dark ritual in order to have gained that power. There was no other way he could have an equal if not greater power level than he, defeater of Grindelwald and master of the Elder Wand.

Potter would have to go. Black, too. It pained him to admit it but things would be far easier if they were dead. Even Boot might have to be removed lest the rebel leaders become martyr's for the boy. Such a symbol could not be used by Hayden and the Weasley twins without some sort of adult support. With the two children gone, Sirius would have no reason to continue with his folly of ignoring the Headmaster's advice. The Potters and the Weasley's would stand with him. Boot was the only person who could bring any true threat to someone of his power. So, the boy would have to die along with Black and Potter.

But how to do it without it being linked to him.

He happened to glance down at his desk. The whirring instruments made him grin. These were the key to his success. One was a Sneakoscope and one a Dark Detector. Typical of the Headmaster's position there was one that showed the strength of the wards. But the others were different: they were the monitors of Hayden Potter. A tracking device based on the boy's blood, a health monitor, a third relayed to him how charged the blood wards he'd discreetly set up over the Potter home. The last was linked to Hayden's magic, allowing Dumbledore to see that the blocks were still in place.

He smiled at the thought of his devices. Nothing about Hayden could get past him without setting something off. He turned back to continue his musings, but then he caught sight of a report from Minerva about Moaning Myrtle flooding the bathroom on the second floor again. If he was a cartoon a light bulb would have appeared over his head.

Perhaps it was time for the Chamber to be opened once more. Perhaps there would be more than one death this time. Perhaps, just maybe, this time there would be three.

Lost in his mind, he didn't see the flare of one of his monitors, and in his old age, he didn't quite hear the high pitched whistling coming from it that he'd perhaps set a few pitches too high for him to hear anymore.

He did feel the shiver that went up his spine as though someone somewhere had just planned something that would be very bad for him. And he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that Harry Potter was involved

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Deep in the Albanian Forest, a bodiless specter swept through the tree's muttering curse's to itself. It was clearly in pain, despite having no nerve endings with which to feel pain, and it was clearly livid with a pair of boys by the name of Potter and held the opinion that someone named something like 'Quivering Quirrel' was an incompetent fool.

The specter was the final remains of Lord Voldemort, formerly known as Tom Riddle, Lord Slytherin and Gaunt.

Suddenly, the disembodied Lord stopped in his tracks and shivered. He felt as though someone had just walked over his grave. That of course led his thoughts to the question 'Do I even have a grave. My body was disintegrated and I doubt anyone cared enough to make a headstone. Humph, when I return I'll have to make the most impressive grave in the world for myself. Right on top of where I kill Dumbledore and the blasted Potter boys, especially the one that stabbed me...and the one that shot me. That'll show them'

Anyone who'd overheard his thought would have realized just how insane this Dark Lord really was.

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Harry ended the time freeze and dropped Hayden back off with the Weasley's where the kids were in the back garden playing football, which Terry had tried to teach everyone. Of those playing that afternoon when the pair of boys got back, only Terry was any good, having grown up partially in the muggle world. Cedric, Ron, Dri, Fred and George didn't seem to be picking it up very easily. Hayden took to it though. He was fast and fairly tall. Terry and Harry's statute should have worked against them, but the former had practiced enough to get around the problem of his height, while the latter was just physically skilled enough for his height to not affect his game.

Terry was constantly scoring past Ron; who wasn't very good as keeper even in Quiditch; while Fred and George tried to defend. The Weasley's being as bad at the game as they were meant that Cedric and Dri were spared further embarrassment as they didn't often have to do much.

Harry turned to his twin "Go make sure Terry's victory is short-lived, will you mate? Think Gred and Forge need all the help they can get,"

Hayden grinned and ran to join in, throwing his jacket down next to the Terry's and the outer robes of the others.

Harry made sure he was out of sight before he used his wings. He had something to do that he'd put off for far too long.

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Robert Boot sat drunk in his armchair, staring vacantly at the television screen with a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. His mousey brown hair was unwashed and greasy, while his clothes were frayed and dirty, having the appearance of something one might find in a bin. The armchair itself was not much better. It was old and looked like it was about to collapse, full of holes through which the insides fell out of onto the floor, the floor that was covered in cigarette stubs and beer cans.

The kitchenette was a disgrace. There was a large stack of plates, a week's worth at least, stacked up unwashed next to the sink. The fridge door looked like it was barely attached and the floor and surface was covered in grime.

In between Boot and the television was a glass coffee table that was also filled with empty alcohol containers and packets of drugs and cigarette's. The glass was cracked and the wooden frame dented and splintered as if something (or someone) had been thrown into it. Alana Boot was high, drunk and nearly passed the stained and torn sofa. Her bleached blonde hair pooled around her head. Black eyes, sunken cheeks, tracks up her arms.

The 'house' was a terrible place for a child to grow up. You walked in through the front door and instantly found yourself in a living room that smelt as if something had died in it. To the immediate left was the old crackling television set, then the coffee table with an armchair on the two ends of the sofa lined up along the other side of the table. The Kitchenette was directly behind the sofa by about five yards, slotted into the corner. Next to it, in the other corner was a pile of dirty clothes.

There was three doors along the wall that stood to the left of the one that held the door. One led to Terry's room. It was small and cramped. There was a bed and a wardrobe lined up against one wall leaving no space. In fact, calling the thin, springy mattress with aluminum coils sticking through in places. His bedside cabinet; a thing with splintered, broken corners that could really hurt the boy if he banged his head on it in the night, was wedged in between the bed and the other wall. The wall opposite the bed had a large window frame that was mostly covered by rotting wooden planks, crudely and insecurely nailed over the space where the glass frame had once sat. Harry could see the pieces of glass that Terry had mentioned. There wasn't a little. There was a lot. It was like anything that wasn't a huge shard had just been left lying around. Terry must have had practically no space in this cramped so-called bedroom.

The next door along was good-ole Bob's and then the final door led to a bathroom.

All of this was seen by an invisible Harry who had flown directly into Terry's bedroom and then silently slipped out without the drunken couple noticing. Ever since he'd invited Terry to stay with him and Hayden for the summer on his birthday, he'd been intending to go and have a nice, pleasant chat with Mr Boot. Terry, however, had constantly told him that it was nothing and begged him to let it go, and Harry had never been able to ignore the plea. So today he'd just visited Terry's old place before the young student could convince him otherwise. Seeing the place, Harry decided that even if he had come for a talk, he'd be leaving with a lot more blood on his hands than he came in with, mainly on account of the bloodstains on both the buckle and the leather of a belt that had been left lying on the table.

Quickly planning out what he wanted to do, Harry dropped his invisibility and stood silently, just within the peripheral vision of the two. When neither took any notice of him, he shouted "Boo!" at the top of his lungs, which was quite loud. Boot startled and toppled out of his chair, dropping the bottle he'd lazily held in his hand and allowing it to fall and smash against the rough wooden floor. His wife shot up of the couch, swaying slightly even as she let out an ear piercing shriek, before she paled remarkably and just collapsed, dead, to the floor, her heart having given out as a result of the shock.

Harry pouted and sighed "Well, there goes half of my entertainment. Drugs weakened her I guess. Probably only had a little while left anyway,"

"Who the hell do you think you are!? Coming in to my home and murdering my wife!" Boot roared swinging a meaty fist at him. While Boot was a layabout drunken idiot, with a beer gut, an untrimmed patchy, beard and a permanently red face he was tall and pretty bulky too. He loomed over Harry in a way that would have been intimidating to any child who didn't have an Archangel riding along with them.

So Harry felt fine.

On account of her blatant neglect towards Terry, Harry's plan had been to force Mrs Boot to neglect her own needs; food, water, the toilet, drugs; until she quite literally just wasted away. Robert though, Harry had reserved a special beat down for.

So as Boot's fist came closer and closer, Harry tensed his muscles in anticipation. His body was taut, ready to leap into action at a moments notice. When the swinging fist was only inches away, Harry leaned back and to the right slightly. Boot's fist just missed grazing his ear, and the man's motion carried him forward. His arm passed over Harry's head, and the momentum forced his body to pivot with it. Harry landed a kick to the side of the man's ribs that sent him sprawling into the back of the sofa. Harry cracked his knuckle's and dodged a retaliatory punch and in return landing a solid blow into the man's pouched stomach, just about avoiding any of Boot's regurgitated 'Jack Daniels'.

"My name is Harry Gabriel," Harry stated calmly "And do you know why I'm here? To make you suffer," he growled the last part as he launched a hard upper caught that had Boot crashing into the coffee table shattering it completely.

"You're the little bastard the runt said he was staying with!" Boot growled "What he do to make you like him? Bet he spread his legs first chance he got..."

Boot wasn't given a chance to finish. Harry fist planted itself against his throat. He could have just crushed it, but he wanted to draw this out. He then proceeded to bring his booted foot back and fly it into the man's groin. He was pretty sure he felt something down there explode.

"Don't talk that way about my friend," Harry ordered. Boot managed to swing a piece of the table leg (that had a rusty nail hanging of one end) at Harry who stepped around it, grabbed Boot's wrist, and then kneed the elbow with as much force as he could. He sensed more than saw the bone break twice on either side of the joint and then once right down the middle. The cracked bone fragments burst through the skin on the inside of his arm, ripping veins and arteries to shreds. Harry froze the wound with a wave of his hand, making sure that the ice was so cold it burned, rather than soothed. Boot screamed, his voice several octaves higher than when they'd started.

Harry didn't stop. Not after he ripped Boot's mind wide open, destroying the natural protections that all humans; even muggles; had. The process had caused Boot's eyes, nose and ears to bleed and him ripping patches of his hair out. He watched as Boot squandered the money his father had given him, leading to Jonathan Boot giving all of his money away to his younger son. A small fund was set aside for Terry, but Robert had plundered it for drug and booze money for he and his wife. Robert had used the belt, viciously, on Terry fairly often, usually when informed of Terry being bullied, and he'd sometimes landed hard punches onto the boys chest, breaking his ribs and then not allowing them to heal properly. He was given minimal food; Davren had arranged for deliveries by the week, because he didn't trust his brother with money, but most of that food was eaten by Robert and Alana, leaving Terry with only meager portions. All of Terry's clothing and school equipment were second hand, and if he ever dropped grades then he was beaten for it. It made Harry's blood boil. So he rained blow after blow onto the mans head. By the time he'd finished, Robert Boot was a pulverized mess. His top and bottom lip were both split; his noses broken, reset and then broken all over again; his eye's were blackened and his sockets fractured; his left cheek was shattered while his right was swollen up like a pufferfish; there was a large purple bruise on his forehead, broken skin along his eyebrow and hairline, and one of his eye balls had been pushed out and burst. That wasn't without including the four broken ribs, one removed kneecap

Harry panted. He wanted the proof, the satisfaction. He'd dropped the angelic protection and allowed his right hand to become a broken mess. Four broken and swollen knuckles was a cheap price to pay for the revenge he'd just gotten. {Nobody treats Terry like that. I'll kill anybody he tries}

Gabriel was silent.

Boot was still alive though. Just like Harry wanted him to be. With a click of his fingers, the pain from the man's injuries would continue even after they were healed; those of them he allowed to be healed that was. Anytime he thought something unpleasant about Terry he would receive the sensation of bugs and insects crawling all over his skin, and it would persist for hours no matter how much Boot beat and scratched himself. He would only be able to eat and drink enough to keep himself alive. Any extra food would turn to ash in his mouth, and water into blood. Alcohol would turn into irritant acid as he ingested it, allowing the itching substance to run through his bloodstream, but never enough to kill him. Harry cursed him so that any attempts the man made to take his own life would fail. Harry wanted that pleasure for himself.

"Wha' are you" Boot slurred, through the six missing teeth and the eight cracked ones.

"My name is Gabriel. Look up your Christianity, and look forward to hell," Harry drawled and then left Boot to his torture.

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A week later found Harry flying to the station while Amos and Anna apparated with Cedric and Terry. After he'd gotten back from his visit to Terry's parents with the few sentimental things he'd found in the boys room. There was a journal of somekind, made out of loose papers and sheets bound together in a plain black cover, probably taken from an old book. Harry hadn't read it, not willing to break Terry's trust like he would anyone else. He'd also gathered together some pictures that he suspected Terry would want to hold onto.

Of course the side-effect of this was that Terry instantly knew where he'd been and consequently didn't speak to him for three days, before admitting that he was scared of what would happen to him as a result of Harry's actions. Harry had reassured the taller boy that nothing would happen because he wouldn't be going back, ever. Full stop, end of discussion, not up for debate blah blah blah. Harry; shortly followed by Hayden, Cedric and Dri; had already made the offer for Terry to spend the next summer with him, and casually mentioned that if the Diggory's or Sirius couldn't get custody of him, then he'd just have to be a very frequent visitor (i.e. every day and night). Terry had instantly tackled him in a hug and said that whatever he'd done, he was forgiven.

Seeing as how Harry hadn't told him of his mother's death, he was unsure about how forgiving Terry would be when he heard of it. Or when he discovered just how brutal Harry had been with his father

The mismatched family arrived. They could already see Dri standing with his parents. Remus wasn't there, but Harry remembered that it had been the full moon the night before, and so the man was probably still recovering. James and Lily were standing by the barrier, waiting for Hayden to arrive in order to see him off, and to pick up Alice from the Weasley's. The group moved over to the Black's. As they crossed the platform, Harry gazed around. Malfoy looking every bit the peacock he was, his gorilla's flanking him and his lap dog, Parkinson not far behind. Daphne Greengrass; the Ice Girl of Slytherin (and Harry just shivered at the thought of another ice elemental); was wearing her typical mask of indifference as she hung onto the edges of Malfoy's gang with half-blood Tracey Davis and the dark skinned Blaise Zabini. The quiet, weedy, bookish Theodore Nott was not to be seen, as usual. He didn't seem to be one to join gangs. Other Slytherins included the burly Marcus Flint who was in deep discussion with Terrence Higgs about something. There were others who's faces he recognized but did not recall their names.

He saw Hermione approaching Neville, Thomas and Finnegan in their oft repeated quiditch/football discussion. He saw Susan Bones arrive with her auntie (and Dri promptly zoned out of the conversation Harry wasn't paying attention too) and there was a short, light haired boy with a camera in hand looking around in awe {Probably a muggleborn} {I would say so , skipper, yeah} Then there was Lee Jordan, who Harry waved at to gain attention from, beckoning him over. He spotted someone who stood out though. It was a man, probably in his mid-forties. Clean shaven, he had receding black hair and was clad in an plain but well tailored black suit underneath a long black overcoat and he had the ugliest face Harry had ever seen. {Wait, what?}

Harry glanced across again but to his relief saw nothing but a simple, unremarkable if unusually cold and shrewd face on the person.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a hand clasping onto his shoulder. He looked out the corner of his eye into the unsure face of Jesse Turner. Harry's pleasant, skulduggery promising smile grew into an exuberant grin."Jesse!" the boy grimaced at the obvious glee in the half-archangel's voice. He could see what was coming and wanted to stop it before it could get going.

"Remember," Jesse said "No flirting. That was what we agreed on, that was our deal," the strange man Harry had noticed had perked up when Jesse had used the word 'deal'. {Interesting} {Beginning to think that ugliness before wasn't just our sleep deprived imagination} Harry grimaced. He had stayed up all night making copious use of Davren Boot's journals (for reading) and Lockhart's novel's (for making a paper horse and Winter Palace for Alice) and he was regretting that now.

"So Harry, gonna introduce me to your cute friend?" Jesse's face met his palm. There were two of them.

"Jesse Turner. Old friend of mine. I spent Easter with him in Australia," Harry explained, before turning to Jesse and pointing at each person "Jesse, this is Adrian Black, his parents Sirius and Marlene, Terry Boot, and then Amos, Anna and Cedric Diggory," he paused and looked behind Cedric "and this guy joining us now if Lee Jordan,"

"Nice as this is, we might want to get a hurry on. Don't want to miss the train," Amos said, looking at his watch. Harry took one last glance at the spot the man had been, but he was gone.

With that, the assembled group began to load their luggage onto the train. Harry decided to sit back and watch them struggle. For Dri, he actually increased the weight of his trunk a little bit and had fun watching Sirius and Dri try and fail to pick it up. He got great amusement when he sent Terry to lift it, making it feather light at the same time, and father and sons jaws hit the floor when Terry picked it up without breaking a sweat.

Shortly after Harry, Jesse, Dri and Terry found a compartment and struggled (Dri) or easily (the other three) to heft their trunks onto the luggage racks above the seat. Lee's trunk was there too, but he'd agreed to wait at the steps to the carriage in order to wave Fred and George over when they arrived. As the warning whistle blew, Harry was fiddling absently with his occlumency barrier. He was considering adding a stake filled pit around each of the hotel's, make things more amusing by forcing intruder's to walk across a tightrope to get to the front door. Dri was introducing Jesse and Terry to poker.

Then Harry noticed a flash of red hair out the corner of his eyes, and tilted his head to see Alice flying into James stomach. Arthur and Molly were double checking to make sure their children had everything. Percy took off towards the prefects carriage. The twins dodged their mother's fussing and raced over to Lee, sliding across the platform with trolley's. Harry idly clicked his fingers and their trunks floated into his own carriage. Lee led the twins there. Harry didn't pay attention to where Ginny went. What he did notice was that Hayden (nor Ron) was there and the Weasley parents kept glancing back at the barrier.

~HARRY!~

{Yes Hayden?}

~I said 'Harry' not 'Gabriel'. The barriers blocked! It won't let me or Ron through and the train's about to leave~

{Just leaving actually} Harry sent this as he felt the train start moving and heard the other students start waving and shouting farewell's to their parents. He waved at the Black and Diggory parents.

~What? Oh no! We're screwed!~

{Calm down. Hold on a sec}

Harry politely excused himself from the ongoing poker game (not before telling Terry to go all in, and making sure he had the winning hand) before making his way to a secluded area and flying out of the train mid step. One pair of blue eyes saw him.

Ron was frantically trying to convince Hayden that stealing Arthur's magical Ford Anglia would be a good idea. Clearly the idiot thought muggles wouldn't notice a car that randomly disappeared into thin air and believed that they could make it all the way to Scotland without any prior experience in driving. Or, on second thought, while Ron had no idea how to drive and Hayden's only lesson's were in a Humvee that ended with bullet holes littering the front of the manor, an exploding tree and a crashed vehicle. The military transport likely would have been destroyed had it been a regular civilian car. Thankfully it only suffered basic damage thanks to its sturdy build and magical reinforcement. The compacted bonnet, five broken windows, missing roof, shattered suspension and cracked fuel tank wasn't a big deal in the long run.

"And what makes you think that would be a good idea?" Harry asked, casually from where he was leaning on a pillar behind the pair.

"Oh great, you're here," Ron muttered angrily, at the same time Hayden said with unmistakeable relief "Thank God you're here," in response to which, Gabriel sent a flash of pain across to the other boys head, causing him to wince.

"Yes, yes. I'm awesome and here to save the day, I know. You can give me my coronation later," Harry waved his hand dismissively {Arrogant prick} ~{Says the one}"Weasley you don't need to be here. If you really want to go get killed trying to fly a car, be my guest. Hayden you're staying here. You wait until an adult comes out of that barrier to find you and then let them apparate you to Hogsmede, capiche?"

"Yeah. Got it,"

"Hayden!" Ron yelled, furious, his face steadily turning red "You're just gonna let him tell you what to do? He's probably trying to get you left behind!"

"He's my twin brother. He wouldn't do that. His idea's a good one, Ron," Hayden implored.

"Fine! Don't blame me when you're expelled because you didn't make it to Hogwarts!" with that, the youngest Weasley boy stormed off to his fathers ford.

"Weasley!" Harry called, dropping his blade into his hand and making sure that the boy saw "I was never here, was I?"

Weasley turned pale, shook his head, and then shot off like a rabbit.

Harry stayed with Hayden, standing unseen next to him, making sure no one approached the (apparently) alone boy. Not long after, James came through the barrier followed by Lily, the Weasley's and the Black's. Even the Diggory's came, sympathetic enough to want to make sure Hayden and Ron were okay. Harry didn't stick around long enough for Hayden to explain the situation to James. He flew back to the train, miscalculated slightly and slammed into the wall. He knew James would take him to Hogsmede. There was no need to worry about that. Despite his rock like intelligence he did still have some common sense, and if he didn't his wife and former best friend did.

Harry rejoined his friends in their compartment in time to hear Dri raging about the loss of the game that he literally had in his hands. Terry was bragging, something that he rarely did as he rarely took enough pride in himself to think he had anything worth bragging about. Jesse, of course, suspected him but the cambion wasn't bothered enough to call him out. Besides, watching Dri take a hit to his ego was hilarious.

At one point Malfoy came wandering around, looking for Hayden and Ron. He'd found Terry and Jesse alone in the compartment, the others having gone to spread panic in the form of giving every compartment a different rumor about something someone else had done. For example they told Neville that the Slytherin's were making a potion that required toad's legs, while also telling Greengrass that Oliver Wood had charmed water balloons to fly around like bludgers. Malfoy had mocked Terry and then called Jesse a mudblood after not recognizing his name. He quickly left after seeing all five of the New Marauder's assembled behind him, they having just arrived back from their mission of being 'up to no good'. Lee swore he'd seen a stain spread on the front of Blondie's robes as he ran away.

Arriving in Hogsmede station, they met Hayden sitting next to the Thestral drawn carriage's. Saying they'd see Jesse later as the boy followed Hagrid down to the boats, the New Marauder's instantly claimed a carriage for themselves, Terry and Hayden. Typically, the carriage only sat six people, but they worked it out by Harry simply sitting on Dri's lap. Neither was bothered by the arrangement and spent the journey making over-exaggerated love eyes at one another, then breaking it off to burst of in a fit of laughter, before picking it up again; much to the amusement of the twins, the disgust of Hayden ~My baby brother you're making doe eyes at, Black~ and the apparent dismay of Terry.

{Hmm. So is it Dri our slightly taller friend is crushing on?}

{*Dramatic, indulgent sigh* Keep trying, Har. You'll get there eventually}

~Not sure how he can be so dense~

{I know right}

{...I feel like I'm missing something}

Soon, the carriage pulled to a stop outside the the huge door to Hogwarts' entrance hall. The New Marauders piled out and hastily made their way inside, anticipating the huge feast they'd be treated to when they got inside. Alongside the other students they made their way into the Great Hall and took their seats at their tables. The opening feast and the end of year feast were the only ones where students had to sit at their house tables. Terry and Harry split off from the group of Gryffindor's to go sit as the Ravenclaw table.

Shortly after, the first years were led in by Professor McGonagall.

Harry didn't really pay attention to the sorting. He only tuned in a couple of times and missed the song completely. Most of the students he also didn't catch the names of either, though he did notice that "Creevey, Colin!" was the small boy with the camera and got sorted into "Gryffindor!" while a short, blonde girl with wide electric blue blue eyes was named "Lovegood, Luna!" and joined the new Ravenclaw first years.

Then there was the name all of Harry's group (barring Hayden, who hadn't met him yet) had been waiting for: "Turner, Jesse!" was called, and the brunette climbed the steps and sat on the rickety stool with the ragged hat placed on his head. He sat there for several minutes, before the hat called "Ravenclaw!". Harry and Terry cheered. The New Marauders groaned in disappointment at the thought of losing a second potential protege to the Raven's (the other being Terry). Jesse made his way over and sat on Harry's left, directly in between Harry and some other first year girl.

"Weasley, Ginevra!" was sent to "Gryffindor!"

Dumbledore gave some sort of speech consisting of some strange randomly ordered and selected words used to put the students off guard and clapped his hands, a que for the house elves to send food up to the table's.

"So, how long did it take the hat to decide on Ravenclaw?" Harry asked, after some minutes of small talk, as he bit into a piece of chicken.

"A little bit. Wanted to put me in Slytherin at first, 'cos of...well, you know," Jesse gestured vaguely with his hand, but Harry understood what he meant: his demon heritage.

"You're American?" Kevin Entwhistle exclaimed. Jesse nodded "Cool! What's the magical district like over there. Europe is pretty isolated from the rest of the world. Dad says it's because we're so advanced compared to the rest of the world,"

Harry choked on his drink.

"It's dangerous," Jesse decided "I wouldn't know a lot. I lived in Australia until recently,"

"And the big magical location down in that area of the world is New Zealand. Plus Jesse's muggle raised. He didn't see that much of the magical world until he went to Diagon," Harry explained.

"So why'd you come to Hogwarts?" Roger Davies, the new Quiditch Captain, asked. Harry did not envy the boy. The fifth year chaser had to rebuild most of his team from scratch. The former beater and captain had graduated last year with the seeker, one of the chaser's and the keeper. The third chaser, a seventh year now, wanted to focus on his studies, leaving just the fifth year Davies and the third year beater. They had to fill five slots, and Ravenclaw didn't have many good players.

"Harry bugged me until I agreed to go. He'd very annoying when he's trying to get something he wants," Jesse told the older teen, sending a glare at Harry.

Idle conversation continued around the table through the rest of dinner and then desert. After the last of the food had disappeared, Dumbledore stood.

"Welcome, welcome, to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you all had a good summer and emptied your brains sufficiently, and are all prepared for a new school year.

"Now that we are fed and watered, some announcements before bed. First years should keep in mind that the Forbidden Forest in aptly named, and you would do well to resist your curiosity and avoid exploring; something a few of our older years would do well to remember. Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridor's, and that the list of banned items can be seen on his office door.

"Now I'm sure you've all noticed our new faces up here on the staff table. Allow me to introduce your new, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart!" Lockhart stood and grinned a white-toothed grin at the students. All the girls sighed dreamily. Harry sighed resignedly.

"Finally, allow me to present to you the teacher or a new lesson on our curriculum, Religious Studies. Please, kindly welcome Professor Crowley,"

Harry's head snapped up and caught sight of the man from the train station, still wearing his suit, rising from a shadowy seat at the end of the staff table. The students clapped unenthusiastically, but Crowley didn't seem to mind. He caught Harry's eyes and nodded towards the plate in front of the boy. Harry looked down and saw a note in front of him that hadn't been there before.

Disinterested in whatever the old man was droning on about now, Harry picked it up

Hello feathers,

Meet me in the new RE classroom half an hour before your first lesson, and bring that young cambion with you.

Sincerely, the New King of Hell; Crowley.

{Well, that was unexpected}

{Well, crap}

Over ten thousand words; wow! Longest chapter so far! I feel really proud, even if it did take me longer than expected.

Thanks for reading, hope you're all enjoying it still, and please review. They make my day.

P.S there's a new pairing on the poll, as requested by a friend of mine. Might interest some of you.

Well, that's it for now. Cya next time! Yozza Out!