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Chapter Twelve—Ouroboros

"It's just not as important as you seem to think it is," Felix said, and flopped back into the seat on the train compartment with his arms folded. Part of him knew he was being childish. This wasn't the way Mum and Dad had taught him to act when he argued with someone.

But Harry was infuriating. He kept on harping on the attack that had happened at the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match, for some reason. And he seemed to think it was Professor Dumbledore being incompetent that meant the attempted murderer hadn't been caught yet.

"Why?" Harry demanded. His magic was prowling around him, rattling the walls. Felix knew Harry wouldn't take it well if he asked Harry to control his bloody magic, but Felix really wanted to say it. "You could have been—"

"Could have been. I wasn't. The worst I had to do was duck a few times. That's nothing compared to the kinds of curses that put me in hospital."

"So if I'd let it hit you, then you'd bloody listen to me?"

Well, he raised his voice first. "You don't have to shout at me! And I didn't mean that. I just mean it isn't as big a deal as you think it is because it didn't actually hurt me. And the supposed murderer hasn't tried again since that, have they?"

Now Harry was the one who looked like he really wanted to say something. In the end, he stood up, shook his head, and stalked out of the compartment.

Felix slumped back and stared miserably at the countryside rushing past outside. He was missing Mum and Dad and Uncle Sirius, he almost didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, and now he'd had a fight with Harry.

"All right, mate?"

That was Ron in the doorway. Felix smiled shakily and sat up. "Yeah. Just—Harry and I had a bit of a row about the spell that attacked me at the Quidditch match."

Ron let himself in and sat down opposite him, frowning. "But that doesn't make sense, does it? It didn't come back, and no one else tried to kill you. So what's the big deal?"

"Yeah, you get it." Felix wondered why he felt so much more comfortable around Ron than his own brother, but reminded himself, with a wince, that it wasn't Harry's fault he didn't understand the way things in the magical world worked and how little of a threat a disappearing curse was to Felix's life. "But Harry thinks that the person who did it will try again, maybe."

"And Professor Dumbledore will stop them!"

Felix nodded. He no longer thought Dumbledore was perfect, not after discussing him with Harry, but he was obviously still a lot more powerful than either Harry or Felix was, and the proper person to take problems to. "Want to play some Exploding Snap?"

"Why not chess?"

"I actually stand a chance of winning when we play Exploding Snap, you berk."

Ron snickered and got out his cards.

"Theo."

Theo turned around with a small sigh and a smile he couldn't hide. He hadn't known how much he'd missed Harry until he was there again. They'd met up in their usual corridor a few paintings down from the bowl of fruit that would let them into the kitchens, and Harry had been a little late.

"How was your holiday?" Theo asked, walking close to Harry as they made their way into the kitchens. The house-elves gave them a glance and then dismissed them. Theo sat down with his back to the fire and watched Harry settle onto the bench across from him and also visibly consider what he was going to say.

You don't have to lie to me.

But Theo knew Harry didn't trust any more easily than he did, and he waited patiently until Harry said, "Tiring. They just—don't understand. I have to lie to them all the time. You know what Sirius Black, my godfather, gave me for Christmas?"

"What?"

"A photo album. He said we could take a lot of pictures to put in it, and I could also put in some of the pictures from the time when I wasn't there. Like I was in hospital and missed a few parties or something, not—"

Theo reached across the table and grabbed Harry's hand. "When I have my father back," he said softly, "you would be welcome to come and live with us, if you want."

Harry blinked, hard. Then he said, "I think I could put the Imperius Curse on Lily and James. I don't want to have to use it on Felix, though. And Dumbledore could probably resist it and find out I'd used it."

Theo sighed. That was true. All the solutions that would have occurred to him if he had magic as powerful as Harry's were out, since Harry still had his brother to care about and his parents were so close to Dumbledore that any major behavioral change would be noticed at once. He sat back. "All right. Well, enough about shitty families we need to lie to. Why don't we exchange gifts?" He lifted the wrapped one from his side.

Harry's eyes blazed with something so near to joy that Theo's breath caught. He hadn't seen it before. Harry waved his hand, and a gust of wind floated a package in gold and plum paper over the table to settle on the bench next to Theo. Theo tried not to guess what it was before he tore it open, but it did have the flat shape of a book.

Harry had already got into his. His eyes widened when he saw the small black book with silver edges, which was what Theo had intended. "What's this?"

"A journal that you can write your notes in, or your thoughts," Theo said softly. "It's charmed to respond to the magic of the first person who writes anything on its pages, and then no one else can open it or even see it unless you give them specific permission. I thought you could use a private place to write down some of the things you're thinking."

Blinking, Harry reached out and touched the journal. Then he said, "I'll let you see it, of course."

Theo smiled. "Thanks."

Harry seemed to snap himself out of a daze. "Sorry," he muttered. "I—I should be the one thanking you." He shifted and squirmed in place for a second as though trying to wrench his mind back into the present. Theo waited, not minding. He was pleased that his gift had had such a powerful effect on Harry.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded to the gift sitting on the bench at Theo's side. "Thank you for yours. You should open that." Then he glanced off to the side, so transparently trying to pretend that he didn't care that Theo smiled again as he picked up the package.

When he opened it, he discovered that it was a small book without a title on the cover, and wondered if Harry had got him a journal, too. But when he opened it, he saw it did have a title listed on the creamy paper, if not an author.

Theo dropped the book.

"What's the matter?" Harry's voice soared sharply, and Theo heard the rattle that marked his magic waking up. "You don't like it?"

"No, I love it," Theo said hoarsely, and stared down at the book without trying to pick it up. "I just—I've heard of it, but I've never read it. I don't know anyone who owns a copy. Where did you get it?" With one hand, he caressed the paper that seemed to shift and stir under his hand, and the delicate silvery letters picked out there that spelled Tales of the Wild Hunt.

Harry watched him with one foot tapping under the table. "I found it on a back shelf of the Potter library. It felt—it felt like your magic. I don't know," he added defensively when Theo looked at him. "It just did. When I picked it up, I thought of you, and I saw you in the Great Hall pulling a Christmas cracker with white mice coming out of it."

"That did happen," Theo whispered, feeling a little faint. "I think…"

"Yes?"

"I think this is the copy that my family used to own. The Ministry confiscated it on a raid, nearly a hundred years ago." Theo couldn't stop touching the book, but that just looked like it reassured Harry more, so he didn't particularly feel the need to. "I have no idea how it wound up in the Potter library, or why they wouldn't have destroyed it, but I think it was ours. And the moment you picked it up must have been the moment when I pulled the Christmas cracker." He took a deep breath. "The Potters won't notice it's gone?"

"It looked like they hadn't dusted back in that corner in fifty years," Harry said dismissively. "And they don't have house-elves, so no one's probably going to go back and check. I don't think they had any idea it was there." He watched Theo from beneath his brows, and then smiled a little. "So you like it."

"I am thrilled with this book, Harry."

Either the tone in his voice or the words finally got through. Harry sat up and beamed at him, and then he turned and started asking Jilly questions. Theo examined the book reverently while he did. He could ask about the conversation later.

Trust Harry to find a book saturated in the Nott magic for him. Even Theo could feel it now, the soft, subtle darkness creeping out from the cover and the illustrations that appeared on the pages as he turned them, unrolling themselves in clean, subtle lines. Theo doubted they would have appeared for anyone else.

This book felt like his father's magic. For the first time in over a year, Theo could imagine that Father was standing there with his hand on Theo's shoulder.

And Harry had given it to him, just because it felt like Theo. Just because he thought it was a good idea. Without the slightest idea of what a book like this might cost.

Theo watched Harry chatting with Jilly, and wondered at the wave of emotion rising in him. He didn't know how to define it, except that if one of the Potters had come in and said Theo could keep the book but they were taking Harry away, he would have given up the book without hesitation.

Harry turned away from Jilly and seemed surprised to see Theo watching him. But then he smiled.

Theo did his best to put the book aside, although he kept one hand over the robe pocket where he'd stored it, and have a normal conversation with Harry. But the realization kept burning in him, even later when he was lying with the book tucked beneath his pillow and his cheek resting over it so he could bathe in the sensation of being near his father.

Mine, he thought, and he meant everything.

Blaise did not know what to do. This was rare enough to irritate him.

Theo wasn't the only friend he had made in Slytherin. Blaise had a nodding acquaintance with some of the older ones thanks to their alliances, business or political, with his mother. He enjoyed Draco's company in limited doses. Pansy could be tolerable when she was making fun of someone who wasn't Blaise.

Harry was a total mystery.

Yes, he shared his secrets with Blaise, and they did homework together, and he was Theo's friend. And Theo seemed convinced that Harry would stand up for them if they really got in trouble. He had simply removed the curse from the Figgs that was tormenting Theo. Blaise didn't know anyone else who could do that.

But Harry was also a poor student in Potions, and, from what Blaise had heard, in other classes, too. Even the ones that didn't involve wands, like Herbology and Astronomy, he apparently dithered and didn't pot the plants right, or didn't see Saturn even when he was staring right at it. He barely attended meals. He faded into the background around his brother or even Granger. It didn't seem like associating with him would provide Blaise any prestige in the eyes of his House. Professor Snape hated him.

It should be simple not to be friends with Harry. But it wasn't.

The second time he made an excuse not to go to the kitchens with Theo and meet Harry, Theo watched him with glinting eyes and then said, "All right. But you should know that Harry won't think of you as someone he should trust if you keep staying here."

"He should. We exchanged first names. I'm the one who brought him here to help you with that curse."

Theo shrugged. "But for Harry, one incident of that happening isn't enough. You have to keep proving that you actually want to be his friend."

Blaise grumbled about haughty Gryffindors, but he would probably have done the same thing himself. That was why he gave in and accompanied Theo to the kitchens that Tuesday a fortnight after the term began.

Harry was sitting with his back turned to them when they entered, speaking with the tallest house-elf Blaise had ever seen. But he turned around and gave them a faint smile, nodding to them. "Hullo."

Blaise thought he could see something being shut up behind Harry's smile, but he was more distracted by the glint of something on Harry's neck. "What's that?" he asked, pointing.

"What's what?" Harry's hand came up to brush at his hair, where he must have thought Blaise was pointing, but he didn't look away from them. Theo glanced back and forth between them, frowning.

"Something gleamed—there! On the side of your neck. No, a little higher. Were you wearing jewelry or something?"

"No," Harry said, and suddenly he had gone still. Blaise folded his arms. This time, he hadn't done anything. "What is it?"

"I have no idea. I saw it shining, that's all."

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Then his hand darted forwards and seemed to pluck the thing Blaise had seen out of the air, although Blaise's eyes watered as he tried to actually focus on it. Harry opened his eyes and stared at the pinch of air between his fingers, turning it back and forth.

"What is it?"

"A monitoring charm, Theo," Harry said softly. "When Blaise pointed it out, I could feel it as distinct from the rest of my magic. Until now, I couldn't. There's a disadvantage to having this much power hovering around me all the time, I suppose." He looked up. "Thank you, Blaise."

The "thank you" felt heavier than it should. Blaise nodded and said, "You're welcome. Do you know who put it on you?"

"I don't know for sure. But I can guess. And I think there are probably others. I'll get rid of them."

Harry burst into fire.

Blaise yelped and scrambled backwards, only to be stopped by Theo's arm around his back. Blaise stared at him, and Theo shook his head a little. He didn't seem to be alarmed, which was the only reason Blaise didn't think this was a punishment of some kind for discovering the monitoring charms.

The fire died, and Harry looked normal, except that perhaps his magic was a little—lighter. Blaise didn't know how to define it better than that. Harry turned back and forth, stretching his arms out and studying his robes, nodding. "I suppose I'll have to check all my clothes to make sure that there's nothing on them, either," he muttered. "But that probably got rid of the worst of it. Thank you, Blaise."

"You—fire—how?"

Harry looked up, and sighed. Blaise had had time to see now that yes, none of his clothes were charred, and his skin was utterly free of blisters and burns. His hair wasn't even singed. Blaise made a silent vow not to go anywhere until he got answers.

"I'm an elementalist."

Blaise's brain stopped running and did a flip over itself. He stared at Harry, who scrunched up his nose and stared back. "You can't reveal that to anyone," Harry added. "I'll have to make you swear an oath or something."

From Theo's non-reaction, he had known this already. Blaise stomped forwards before he could think about it. "You can command fire?"

"All four elements, really. Although my control over earth is pretty weak."

"If I'm going to be your friend," Blaise snapped, "then I want to know all your secrets that Theo does. It's not fair if you trust him more and me less."

"It's fair," Harry said softly, and a blue flame flickered into being at his shoulder. "I met him first. I trust him more."

Blaise stared at him, but Harry didn't back down, and when Blaise thought about it, he could see why. Harry was an elementalist, holy Merlin. Someone cared enough about where he went and what he did to put monitoring charms on him—powerful ones if they could be seen, even accidentally. His parents had left him in the Muggle world for ten years for no reason Blaise had heard. Mum had believed it was because Harry was a Squib, but obviously not.

Blaise's mind made another leap, and he smiled. "You don't really use your wand at all, do you?"

"You're smart," Harry said, in a neutral tone that made it less of a compliment and more of a truth. "No. It's just a piece of wood to me. I've been using my elemental magic to fake it in Charms and Defense and Transfiguration."

"What will you do once we get into higher-level classes?"

"Fake it some more."

Blaise wanted to say that someday that wouldn't work, but from the way Harry's eyes were set and glinting, he didn't want to hear it. Blaise nodded slowly. He was willing to swear some oaths to keep Harry's secrets, because this was fascinating. Someone who could use the magic of all four elements, and wandless! This was the kind of secret Blaise wanted to know and keep track of, and the kind of magic he had heard, from some stories he had read when he was younger, that elementalists could teach other wizards.

He drew his wand. Harry slid down from the bench and stood in front of him, and spoke the words of the oath he wanted Blaise to repeat.

Blaise did it without hesitation, because it wasn't a particularly onerous oath, and he wanted to stay. He caught Theo's eye as he tucked his wand back into his holster, and had to snort at how smug Theo was.

Yes, fine. He was right that spending time with Harry is a good thing, and getting him to trust me reveals all sorts of interesting secrets.

It doesn't mean I'm ever going to let Theo live down that time he fell asleep with the sandwich on his face and woke up with mustard all over his nose.

Every single robe in his cupboard had the same kind of tracking and monitoring charms. Now that he knew what to look for and how to hold his magic in check so its thrumming and snarling didn't overwhelm the quiet hum of the charms, it was perfectly obvious.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he reached out and scooped up the first five sets of robes, tucking them into the satchel where he usually kept his books. He wasn't sure of his control if he tried to burn off the charms while they were just hanging in the cupboard, so he would have to take them to a classroom, put them on one at a time, and burn them that way.

"What are you doing, mate?"

Harry gave Ron a strained smile as he shut the cupboard door. "I'm going to practice some of those cleaning charms Professor Flitwick was talking about on my own clothes. Better do it now than have to do it my first time in class, right? Especially since my control over my wand is so uncertain."

"Oh, yeah." Ron nodded. "You're going to an old classroom to do it?"

"Yes." That was even true. It just wasn't any of the more accessible classrooms where students went to practice spells, brew, or duel.

"Thanks, mate. Don't want to see what kind of mess you might make of the room."

Harry's magic flared around him, but he controlled it, just nodded, and managed to slide out of Gryffindor Tower and to the classroom he was thinking of without catching anyone else's attention. He slid the robes on one by one, and then let his fire loose, rippling around him, cleansing and purifying, ensuring that the only things on the robes were things he wanted to be there, like the buttons and hems.

All the while, his anger shone hot inside him, compacted but all the hotter for that. It had either been the Potters or Dumbledore, and Harry thought that the Potters probably didn't care that much about his individual movements as he went about his school day. It was much more likely to be Dumbledore.

I hate him.

The hatred was sharp and cutting, tiny thin flares of flame like lasers tumbling around inside him. And he knew that he couldn't do anything about it. Dumbledore was politically powerful, magically powerful, and the Potters' best friend or Lord.

He's the one who sent me to the Dursleys. He's the one who put Theo with the Figgs.

Nothing could change, except removing the charms from the robes. If Dumbledore put them back again, Harry would just destroy them again. He might have waited, might have been wary of the consequences of taking them off, but it wasn't like Dumbledore could really admit he had put them there, either.

I'll remember this.

Albus frowned slightly at the empty air that should have been alive with ripples of Harry's movement and the sound of his heartbeat. The charms had dissipated entirely, one set in the kitchens—those on Harry himself—and then more sets in an empty classroom. He wondered if someone other than Harry had found them and thought they were dangerous. But none of the students would have had the power to remove them, and the professors would have recognized his magic and come to speak to him first.

Then he felt like striking himself in the forehead. House-elves. Of course. They might well have noticed the charms and decided that they were from someone dangerous, perhaps even Voldemort. And it would be like house-elves to take the robes to an out-of-the-way place, remove them, and return them without even alerting their owner. From the feeling of it, batches of charms were vanishing at a time.

Albus shook his head. He would have to speak with the elves and ensure that they knew he was tracking Harry for Harry's own good, and to be able to get there quickly in the event of a wild magic breakdown.

In the meantime, he could live without them for a few days, and give the house-elves time to calm down.

"Imperio!"

This time, the spell seemed to land differently in Harry's mind. Maybe it was his bitter, burning anger at Dumbledore, which hadn't gone away but had retreated because he had nowhere and no one to take it out on. Maybe it was because he had finally experienced the spell enough times to figure out what he should do with it. Maybe it was the time of day, or the extra flick of Quirrell's wand when he cast the spell, or Harry thinking how it was already the end of January and he had to learn this by June at the latest to prevent Theo from going back to the Figgs.

But this time, Harry looked at the snake-shape of the curse in his mind, and he saw.

He could pull on the tail and unravel it, and when he did, it went too fast. And he had also decided that was one of the reasons that people could ultimately break the Imperius unless someone was always right there next to them casting it or could at least get to them regularly to renew it. They might not feel the shape, but the shape had an end.

Now…

Harry reached out, and he guided the snake's tail into its mouth.

There was a spark like one of the monitoring charms catching the light, and the shape tumbled around in his head. Harry laughed aloud as he considered it. Yes. This was the way to make a permanent Imperius Curse. Make the shape a ring, and no one who only experienced it the normal way would be able to find the beginning or end of it. Only someone who could feel the shape the way Harry did would have a prayer, and there were going to be few of those people.

My wandless magic really is stronger than wanded magic. At least for this one thing.

"What did you do?"

Quirrell's voice was sharp in the way that meant he knew Harry had done something but couldn't figure out the answer for himself. Harry opened his eyes and grinned at him. "Made a ring of the snake in my mind, sir. I think it would create a permanent Imperius Curse."

Now I just have to figure out what would make it less pleasant for those prats…

But maybe the permanent spell would be nasty? Harry supposed he couldn't know for sure until he tested it out. Maybe he could find a really unpleasant student here and try it out on them. Malfoy probably wasn't unpleasant enough to count.

"Why do you think that?"

Quirrell's voice was quiet. He seemed to dislike Harry coming up with an idea that he hadn't come up with first. Harry blinked at him. "Because I could always end the spell by pulling on the tail. I think people who break the Imperius Curse or where it fades over time were doing the same thing. Or sort of the same thing, since they can't feel it. But if you put the snake's tail in its mouth, then you couldn't get it out again without being able to feel the shape of the spell."

"Are you threatening me with this, Mr. Potter?"

"No."

Quirrell prowled a step forwards. Harry felt a headache blossom through his scar. He raised his magic around him, quickly and quietly, on alert as he hadn't been when Quirrell had been staring at him.

It felt as if he were confronting a dangerous enemy, suddenly, although he hadn't thought of Quirrell that way in a few months—not since he'd begun to teach Quirrell the Transfiguration of wood into gold, anyway. Harry hadn't thought Quirrell would want to kill him at least until after he learned that. He hadn't done it yet.

Now, though, now he could.

"If you think to bind me with that," Quirrell said softly, "you will not walk out this door."

"I'm going to use it on people who deserve it, and that's not you."

"Then why did you mention it?"

"Because you obviously felt the change in the spell and asked me about it, and you've always been able to sense when I lied."

Quirrell eased back with a snort, and the sensation of sharp menace died away. "You should be more careful whom you tell about this," he said, while Harry noted his fading headache and didn't lift a hand to touch his scar. "Saying that to someone could give them the wrong idea."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He left unsaid that he didn't plan to tell anyone else except Theo about this ahead of time.

And Blaise? Maybe. Blaise had so far kept Harry's secrets without appearing tempted to give them away. But Harry knew Theo would accept and approve of Harry's plan to use the Imperius Curse on the Figgs and (if he could get away with it) the Potters. Blaise might have some kind of squeamishness about it.

"Once again, you have broken through a long-established magical theory, Mr. Potter. I will have to consider this."

Quirrell didn't say what the magical theory was that Harry had broken, and Harry didn't ask. It was probably something about how no one could perform a permanent Imperius Curse without ending up as a gibbering wreck or running around screaming at people. There was a reason the spell was called an Unforgivable.

Harry didn't particularly care. He unhooked the tail of the serpent in his mind from its mouth and made it vanish. Then he hurried away to find Theo. Now that he knew he could master the curse at least partially, Harry didn't want to wait for the end of the year. Theo might have to spend a few days with the Figgs before they could make Dumbledore believe that they really wanted to give him back to Mr. Nott. As far as Harry was concerned, this was unacceptable. They would have to set this in motion by the Easter holiday at the latest.

The being who sometimes thought of himself as Quirinus Quirrell and sometimes Lord Voldemort stared after the Potter child and remembered the night that he had broken into the Potters' small cottage at Godric's Hollow. Remembered his servant bowing before him. Remembered the sudden dazzle of brilliance, bright as lightning, when the bloody runes traced on the floor burst into fire.

Remembered what he had seen, lying before him.

He had not known that that child would grow into—this. He had only caught a brief glimpse of Dark magic heaving like a sea in storm before the backlash tossed him out of his body and through the atmosphere. And he had had other things to concentrate on, just then.

It was fascinating, mentoring Harry Potter through the discovery of his elemental and wandless and world-breaking magic. It was disconcerting, too. For the first time in years, Lord Voldemort had encountered someone he would regret lifting his wand against.

Of course, he would do so. Of course he would do so. Albus had called together the professors during the Christmas holiday and confirmed that the rumor that had drawn Lord Voldemort here was now reality. They had chosen to conceal the Philosopher's Stone in the school, under heavy protection, and leak the truth to certain well-chosen former Death Eaters, with the plan to draw Lord Voldemort's wraith into a spirit-trap when it crossed the wards.

Albus appeared confident that he would know the instant the wraith approached. He had said something about Lord Voldemort not being strong enough to possess anything other than an animal.

Quirinus had had a hard time controlling his laughter, but Lord Voldemort had required him to.

Lord Voldemort had survived death. Lord Voldemort had been in the room that night and seen the power stirring there and it had not managed to kill him, for all that it might have deprived him of the body he was born in.

Lord Voldemort would kill Harry Potter if he had to, Felix Potter because it was required. But he would regret the first kill.

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Theo hissed behind him as he and Harry slipped into an alcove behind the staircase leading down to the dungeons.

"You were the one who said that Marcus Flint broke a Gryffindor's arm last year and made the bones grow into each other," Harry said absently as he eyed the staircase, waiting for his prey to come down it. "And then you told me it was one of the Weasley twins. I like them. I'm doing this."

"You could practice on an animal first…"

"We don't have time," Harry said shortly. "And there's no telling that I could get the animal to do the kinds of complex things that I have to make the Figgs do to leave you alone. Look! He's coming!"

Theo sank back behind him, not making a sound. Harry smiled to himself. Whatever his concerns about Harry using the Curse on another person—which might be concerns for Harry himself, not about Flint—he had made his choice by staying silent.

Flint came down the stairs, but he wasn't alone. Still, he was in front of the mass of Slytherin Quidditch players, and isolated enough that he still made a good target for Harry's magic. Harry concentrated on him so hard that he could feel his power buzzing in his teeth.

Imperio.

The word blasted out of him so strongly that Harry was numbly surprised none of the Slytherins with Flint seemed to hear it. Theo caught his breath, but didn't otherwise react. Harry pushed, and the snake coiled out of his mind and into Flint's.

Panting with the effort, Harry stuck the snake's tail in its mouth. Flint had frozen at the bottom of the stairs, trembling, his eyes wide. His friends didn't appear to have noticed yet, but probably would at any second.

Do this, Harry snapped, and sent the directive searing into Flint's mind like the beams of hot fire that had seared him inside when Blaise had found Dumbledore's monitoring charms.

It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, wrapping the snake around and around Flint's mind. Flint was fighting him. There was panic there, and flowing waves of what looked like pain. Harry smiled grimly. It seemed he wouldn't have to do anything special to make the Figgs' fate unbearable for them. The permanent Imperius Curse would presumably do it all on its own.

For the next month, you're going to quit the Quidditch team, Harry whispered into Flint's mind. Your marks are slipping, and you're concerned about that. You're going to spend so much time on Arithmancy and Ancient Runes that people will joke about it. He wasn't a Slytherin, and Theo wasn't close to Flint, so this was the only thing Harry could think of to make sure that he'd hear about the results.

The waves of pain intensified, but the snake was still firmly in place. Harry slipped out of Flint's mind and sank further back into the alcove with Theo. The whole thing had only taken a few seconds, but the game would be up if one of the Slytherins with Flint spotted them.

"You all right, Marcus?" one of the other Slytherins asked. Harry didn't know who it was. He was a tall kid with a nose that must have been broken at least once.

"Yeah, headache," Flint muttered, rubbing his forehead. "You know, I have to think about my marks…"

"Yeah, your dad's always saying that."

"Well, he's right," Flint said, and lifted his head. Harry could see the determined look on his face, which didn't look fake at all. "I'm going to quit the team."

"What?"

Harry felt Theo choke behind him with what might have been laughter, but he didn't say anything. And since the older Slytherins were so distracted with Flint's pronouncement, they all went past in a clot without looking into the alcove, either.

Harry relaxed with a long sigh. He had wondered if a connection would remain between him and Flint, one that might drain his magic, but he couldn't sense anything. He would just have to keep track of time and check in to make sure that Flint was cracking the books and that he would return to the Quidditch team when a month was up.

"Just had to do something that would give the Quidditch victory to Gryffindor?" Theo whispered behind him.

Harry turned around with a smile. "Had to do something noticeable, something we would hear about even if we never interact with Flint."

Theo nodded slowly. His hands were clenched in front of him, and there was a question in his eyes that Harry didn't think he was aware of asking. Harry reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

"We can do it on the Figgs," he said. "I'm sure we can."

Theo didn't slump in relief, but his eyes closed. Harry was content to stand there quietly, and let Theo have this moment.

When he recovered, they could start planning the future. But for now…

For now, it was enough to be here.