Loose Ends

Harry shuffled through the castle, delaying the unpleasant bit that was to come for as long as he could while his mind wandered back to his last encounter with Fawley. The girl had been broken and only too eager to tell him anything he wanted in the end.

'So, tell me,' he had said while he was performing the necessary steps to restore her memory after she'd signed the contract. 'Why did you kill Nott?'

It had taken a while for the sound of his voice to provoke any kind of reaction from the girl, who had only just stopped sobbing and crying for her family. '...dnofm...'

'Come again?' Harry remembered asking.

'I didn't off the brat,' she had said, her eyes empty and her voice hoarse.

Harry shook himself, bringing his mind back to the present. He had other things to think of at the moment. Things that would, sadly, more than likely prove to be equally tricky.

Merlin, they're not going to be happy with me. He felt guilty pleasure at the fantasy of Daphne and Hermione at each other's throats while he slunk away unnoticed. Sadly, with Tracey acting as a buffer of sorts between his spoiled pure-blood cousin and their Muggle-born friend, that outcome seemed even more unlikely than both (or maybe even all three) girls ganging up on him. Shuddering at the thought, Harry resigned himself to accepting his comeuppance.

Carefully peeking around the corner and completely ignoring his somewhat tarnished dignity, which scoffed at his actions, he was relieved to see Daphne apparently asleep. He wouldn't run from her, but he did seriously doubt that he had the mental fortitude to deal with two headstrong girls at the same time. Neediness in the form of a constant starvation for attention from him, or the never-ending silent demand for more information; both were equally tiresome.

'Stop skulking at the entrance, Harry, and come in already!' Madame Pomfrey stood by the doorway and motioned for him to enter.

Harry fidgeted a bit but eventually sighed again and entered. At least Poppy wasn't raging at him.

'There you are. It's good to see that you're in one piece. When I heard there was spellfight in the abandoned part of the castle, I was sure I'd be hosting you again here all too soon. Are you sure you're healthy?'

'Yes?' Harry answered, uncertain.

'Eating enough, are you? You're looking a little peaky.'

'Er...'

Harry was spared the need for a more sophisticated answer when a thoroughly disgruntled Hermione shouted so loudly that both Harry and Madame Pomfrey winced. 'HARRY BLACK, YOU GET HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!'

Madam Pomfrey patted him comfortingly on his shoulder. 'Ah, yes. Miss Granger and Miss Greengrass have both been rather...vocal in their demand to see you.' Turning away from him, she approached the shirty Slytherin first year, poking her with a wand, quite obviously admonishing her for having the audacity to shout in the infirmary.

Nervously looking towards Daphne, who still hadn't moved, Harry slowly made his way down the empty beds until he stood next to Hermione, a pitiful attempt of a smile on his face. 'Er, hello, Hermione. Good to see you're so lively. How are you?'

'Don't give me that nonsense, Harry! Professor Dumbledore's just left, and I'm bored out of my mind. Even though I've told Madam Pomfrey that I wasn't hurt, she refuses to let me go. But never you mind that! Draco woke up some time ago, and he's been rather forthcoming.'

'Whatever do you mean?' Harry asked neutrally, glancing at Draco's bed, which was nearest to Hermione's. Its occupant, however, had the good grace to at least feign sleep, though Harry found his smug grin to be a little implausible.

'Don't lie to me, Harry...' Her voice sounded frail now and so deeply disappointed in him that his guts turned uncomfortably.

Harry's shoulders slumped, and he sat down on the chair next to her bed. 'I didn't lie. In fact, I don't remember ever lying to you.'

'Why'd you do it?'

'What do you mean?' Seeing her narrowing her eyes, he quickly raised his hands to pacify her. 'I mean, what exactly do you mean. I'm not denying anything, but you'll have to be a bit more specific.'

'You knew Fawley was using me. You knew or suspected that it was Fawley who's been riling up the other houses. You had Draco form that little "spy group", and from the beginning you were going to use him to influence me. And you did. You had him become unbearable just so-' She paused for a moment. 'You had him become even more unbearable than usual so that I'd feel pressured into choosing Fawley over his work.' She fixed him with a fierce glare while her bottom lip trembled slightly.

'So, he told you,' Harry answered, blank-faced.

'Yes, he did! And he apologised and mentioned he'd been against this, I quote, "stupid bullcrap" from the start.'

Harry sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Eventually, he nodded. 'Yes, I admit I brought that all about to make you realise that you shouldn't so readily trust anyone in the first place.'

Suddenly, the infirmary rang with the sound of a steak smacked on a cutting board. Blinking, Harry wondered where that thought came from until his face started hurting as if burning tar was melting his skin off. Hermione looked at him, her hand still outstretched, tears in her eyes. 'You're no better than her!'

'Hermione,' Harry tried to pacify her, bravely ignoring the pain that made speaking somewhat difficult, 'I couldn't be entirely sure. Surely you see that I can't just do something until I have incontrovertible proof. The only thing I knew for certain was that she was taking advantage of you.'

'Exactly like you did,' Hermione shot back scathingly.

'Well, not exactly like that, but I appreciate that you must feel rather angry with me.'

'I'm not angry, Harry; I'm hopping mad at you! You weren't better than her at all! I was so glad when I saw you, so relieved that you'd come. And then this!'

Harry kept his mouth shut this time, avoiding her gaze. He'd known she'd be livid, and, what's worse, he had to admit that she had every right to be cross with him. 'Draco told you you'd be a spy for him. While I admit that it would probably have been more appropriate for us to tell you when and what you'd work on, the matter of the fact is that your cover was so good that, well, not even you suspected.'

He levelled a small smile at her that instantly shattered when it met with her frosty glare. 'Don't you dare talk to me like this is a game. You've used me! I've trusted you, and you've used me all along! I don't even know why I'm still talking to you.'

'Hermione, I promise everything I've done in regards to Fawley was to stop this whole situation without any escalation and to help you realise that she's been manipulating you.'

'Exactly like you did, you mean?' she hissed furiously, her eyes red and still laced with tears.

'No,' he replied honestly. 'I was always upfront that I had plans. And while I admit that I used that fact to push you when you found me near the greenhouses, that doesn't mean that was part of some grand deception. Listen, if you don't start realising that Hogwarts is a political machine filled with poisonous vipers, you're going to come under fire, literally.'

'So how does this make you better than them again?' she shouted, pointedly ignoring the matron's shushing gestures.

'The difference is that I don't lie to you, and we've told you everything, haven't we?'

'Just...go. Just go, Harry. I don't want to deal with you right now.' Without another word, Hermione turned around, though that didn't help to muffle her snivelling.

He felt like a jerk. Harry couldn't quite explain it, but somehow his guts squirmed as if he'd done something fundamentally wrong despite knowing quite well that Hermione really needed a wake-up call if she was to survive the next few years, whether she remained in his circle of friends or not. Furrowing his brow, he was about to leave when his eyes met Daphne's furious onslaught of ocular power.

Imperiously, she motioned for him to come over with her hand. He complied with her...request.

'I'd quite like to slap you myself, Harry, though I have to admit Granger did a good job of it.'

'Look, I thought you had enough on your plate, especially with Fawley being your second cousin an-'

Daphne's eyes caused him to falter. 'Harry, I'll give you another chance to start this conversation. Otherwise, I will smack you one even though my whole body feels like shit right now.'

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled sheepishly. 'You know how your grandmother thinks of me. I didn't want to give her any more ammunition. Especially regarding the Fawleys, seeing as her own sister is one of them.'

Daphne seemed to calm down a bit at these words, though she still looked mightily unimpressed with him. 'Harry?'

'Yes, Daphne?'

'You're an idiot!' Her hand grabbed a fistful of his robes and drew him nearer. 'I thought I told you,' she went on, whispering now. 'I won't ever allow you to duck out. I will never allow my gran to make me decide.' Her eyes, full of anger, sorrow and insecurity, needily devoured his. 'You promised me...'

'I...I'm sorry. I'll never leave you out again,' Harry answered meekly, offering her a little smile. It was sincere.

'You'd better not!' Daphne returned his smile briefly. Then, she pushed him away from her, though not too unkindly, her voice thankfully calm again. 'Still, to show me how very sorry you are, you will now spend two Hogsmeade weekends with your favourite beauty, acquiescing to my every wish and whim.'

Harry's smile broke somewhat, but he persevered. 'Yes, Daphne.'

'Good, now go.' She yawned pointedly. 'I need to sleep some more, and I'm still angry with you.'

Sighing again, Harry walked towards the door feeling like a beaten dog.

'Harry?' Tracey called out to him, grinning pertly.

'Yes, Tracey?' Harry closed his eyes in resignation. Why do they all pretend to be asleep?! Is it so enjoyable to watch me squirm?

'You're so whipped!'

Harry shot her a look. 'Thank you so much for informing me.'

~BLHD~

Hermione stared blankly ahead of her, eyes lowered, not really registering her surroundings, her company or her own thoughts as she more or less floated down the road on a cloud of denial.

'Hermione? Hello, anybody home?'

Hermione blinked in confusion, looking around. Tracey stood next to her, smiling at her gently in an uncomplaining way. 'I'm sorry?' Hermione croaked, using her voice for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

'Oh, come on!' Tracey protested, stomping her delicate foot in a rather cute fashion. 'I'm pouring my heart out here, and you've missed the good stuff.'

'Sorry, Tracey. I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, but...' Hermione bit her lip, not quite sure how to continue.

'Hah.' Tracey gave a quiet sort of sigh. 'Let's grab a Butterbeer. I didn't really want to meddle, but it seems I have to - again. You guys might be all brainy, but you couldn't even talk to your own friends to save your hides! Salazar, I feel like a child care worker...' Shaking her head in annoyance, she grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her into the Three Broomsticks, smiling and waving to a few people she knew. When they'd found a table, she ordered two Butterbeers and nearly downed her bottle in one go, smacking her lips blissfully. 'That's the stuff!'

Hermione just sort of stared at her drink, nervously playing with the label.

'You're thinking about Harry again, aren't you?'

Hermione first considered denying it, but Tracey's knowing smile disarmed her resistance before she'd even started mounting a defence. 'Yes,' she admitted. 'Kind of hard not to,' she added after a while, pointing out of the window, where a beaming Daphne dragged a thoroughly embarrassed and painfully smiling, stiff-looking Harry through the streets of Hogsmeade.

'Look, we all thought he was being a bit stupid. Merlin, even Draco thought he was in over his head, playing you like a fiddle for the better part of the last few weeks. I'm not excusing any of that - quite the contrary. The very fact that even a Malfoy had reservations should have tipped him off, but there you go.'

'Why didn't you or Draco tell me about it...?' Hermione eventually asked.

Tracey rubbed her eyes before before squeezing Hermione's hand gently. 'Would you rather have suffered for nought?'

'What?'

'Well, once Harry had initiated his insane scheme of forcing Draco into playing you to expose Fawley-Salazar, it sounds even more idiotic phrased like that-this outcome was more or less inevitable. I don't want to say Harry's plan was perfect because it really wasn't. His general idea was solid even though he should maybe start working with his friends instead of just using them as a resource...' She grumbled unhappily before clearing her throat and continuing. 'Be that as it may, you don't know yet how truly pig-headedly, infuriatingly, incredibly single-minded he can be. If you want a guess, his grandfather wanted him to find whoever caused his problems, and from then on that was all his mind was focused on. He's like that, you'll see.'

'So what? That gives him the right to mess with my life?' Hermione asked angrily.

'No, of course not. I thought I'd made that clear. What I wanted to say was that he'd just have continued his plan. If I had warned you, what would have been the consequences? An even greater loss of faith in him and a further delay of uncovering the perpetrator.' She took another gulp from her bottle. 'We were lucky, Hermione. You've heard Fawley babbling on and on about it; if we'd waited a few more days, the thing would've been set in stone. There would have been hell to pay... Daphy and Harry would have totally lost it, believe me. You've never really seen Harry get mad. He can be positively Daphne-sque, believe me.'

'I'm still waiting for you to convince me. Just because it kind of worked out, I should just bow down and forgive him?'

Tracey laughed at that, ordering another round even though Hermione hadn't taken a single draught. 'No, of course not. Actually, you should milk it for all it's worth. Whenever a guy does something so mind-bogglingly barmy, you should let him squirm for a bit. I mean, look at Daphne! I hear she plans on getting him into Madam Puddifoot's. He'll be scarred for life!'

Hermione couldn't help herself and snorted a bit at the thought, smiling at her short dormmate for the first time that day. 'But I don't want that. I mean I'm not into Harry that way.'

'Oh, I think you're misunderstanding something. I don't think Daphne is actually interested in him that way either. Or maybe she is, it's hard to tell with her. It's more about doing something she kind of enjoys while he feels like he's being dragged through hell and back again. Can you imagine something more humiliating for Harry than being seen with Daphne there? Especially given how, er, overbearing she is with him?'

'What? She just does all that to annoy him? All that touching and attention seeking, too?'

'I never said that. Urgh, it's complicated. I don't think Daphne truly knows what she wants in regards to Harry. Just keep an open mind about it.'

Hermione nodded sagely, though she couldn't truly say that she did understand one bit about Daphne's strange fixation on Harry, or-more importantly-why Harry indulged her so.

'But we've strayed a bit off topic. Look, I'm not telling you to readily forgive him. But you can be sure of two things: first, Harry's not the kind of guy to just lie to you. He's always been fairly upright in a strange kind of way.' She squinted her eyes for a moment before a smile spread nearly from ear to ear. 'Like a corkscrew!'

'A corkscrew?' Hermione repeated, aghast.

'Exactly! Like, you don't really know where's up and down or even the direction of his thoughts, but you can be sure that he gets the job done in the end. Harry's like that: curly thoughts to accomplish a straightforward goal.'

Hermione stared at the girl in front of her, frantically trying to keep up. Out of sheer desperation, she took a gulp from the first bottle in front of her.

'But that's not all,' Tracey went on. 'What he said in the infirmary was, I hate to admit, kind of true. Fawley is a bitch; she used you, Daphne and everyone else to increase her own station in life. She's like a cuckoo's egg in a way; nice to look at until she begins to gobble you up. Harry, on the other hand, is more like-I don't know-bitter medicine.'

'Bitter medicine?' Hermione repeated, clutching her bottle.

'Yup! His actions leave a foul taste in your mouth, and you don't immediately feel better afterwards, but you can be kind of sure that all will be fine, eventually. And he doesn't pretend to be anything he isn't. Unlike that cow.'

'Eventually...' The Muggle-born echoed again, taking another drink. 'So what am I supposed to do?'

'Well, like I said, let him stew for a few more days; he's really messed it up this time, after all. Especially with us ending up in the infirmary and all that. Then, when you're ready, let him apologise again, and be sure to grab whatever you want from him.'

'What I want?'

'You confirmed that it wasn't your secret ambition to have him set foot in Madame Puddifoot's, so you need something you want from him. Anything really.'

'And you think he'll give me what I ask for?' Hermione asked sceptically.

'I'm sure he will.' Tracey smiled earnestly. 'I've known Harry for years; he's principled like that, you'll see.'

~BLHD~

Harry walked calmly down the hall, pointedly ignoring the cat calls and whistles of half the Gryffindors and the disparaging or provocative sneers of many a Slytherin.

'Hey, Black! Nice date!' Some Slytherin third years down the hall were positively leering.

Harry's expression didn't change, though a perceptive observer might have seen his eyes twitch slightly. Daphne was still hanging tightly onto his arm, as she'd insisted on doing since they'd entered Hogsmeade.

When they'd finally sat down, Harry made a disgruntled noise and reached for the roasted pork with apple sauce only for Daphne to grab his hand once again. 'On, no, Harry. I don't think you want to eat that tonight. Or any of that sweet stuff later, for that matter. Today, Tracey and I get to decide what you eat. And we want you healthy, so it'll be loads and loads of vegetables. Just like you prefer, I'm sure.'

Harry just stared at her, dumbstruck. Then he lowered his hand, his ears slightly red. 'Yes, Daphne.'

'Do you at least get to decide how you dress, Black?' Zabini asked off-handedly.

Harry's mouth morphed into an angry snarl, yet his cousin put her hand forcefully under his chin and cut off his response. 'Of course he does, Zabini. As long as he doesn't mind changing again if Tracey and I don't approve.'

Harry wanted nothing better than to scream his protests, yet-for now-he decided that he'd better let Daphne play her games. At least for the day. In the end, instead of a biting remark, he settled with low grumbling to vocalise his dissatisfaction.

'Don't you, Harry dear?' Daphne smiled at him, shifting subtly on the bench to sit even closer to him.

'Yes, Daphne, d-dearest,' said Harry, trying hard to look as relaxed as possible.

On the other side of the table, Hermione beheld the spectacle with an open mouth, whereas Tracey was just barely restraining herself from roaring with laughter. She elbowed the Muggle-born witch and winked. 'See? He'll do anything!'

Hermione just nodded, blinking rapidly. 'It kind of hurts to watch. Not that I'm particularly sympathetic at the moment.'

'Oh, what's that?' Someone from further down the bench called out, pointing at the large windows where a majestic eagle owl appeared, carrying a whole bundle of letters and a small package.

To everyone's astonishment, it landed right in front of Harry, who smiled at the bird and petted it while removing the letters. Daphne leant over his shoulder to have a look, but the owl barked loudly until she leant back again, looking annoyed. Harry fed the bird a bit of bacon before it took off with one last punitive look at Daphne.

'Oh, it's tomorrow's Prophet.' said Harry, holding the paper.

'How does one even get tomorrow's paper?' asked Hermione with a scowl. 'Isn't the printing done overnight?'

'Well, you have to-'

'How does one get the Prophet one day in advance, Draco?' asked Hermione again, completely drowning out Harry's previous attempt at an explanation.

'Easy,' said Draco, his eyes flickering for the merest fraction of a second from Harry to Hermione. 'If you know the right people, the editor might hand you a provisional pre-print.'

'So? What's it say?' Daphne crossed her arms grumpily, clearly unhappy with how the situation had slipped from her control.

'Well, it's about Fawley,' replied Harry.

'Don't make me grab it, read it out already!'

'New scheme revealed at Hogwarts!

Headmaster helpless in the face of countless complots?

A new day dawns with yet another terrible revelation of Hogwarts' increasingly unstable environment, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. As recently as a few weeks ago, the Prophet voiced its concern with our prestigious school's apparent inability to control its socially volatile elements only to now unearth the latest scandal. Slytherin fifth year Terese Fawley was found guilty and has confessed to various acts of violence, fraud, bribery and coercion in collaboration with forces unknown. In a public statement, Miss Fawley stated she acted independently and against the express wishes of her family to fight against the public menace that is the Blacks. She has chosen to quit Hogwarts pending ongoing investigations.

While the Head of House Fawley has not been available for a statement at this time, we of the Prophet hope for a fair if merciful judgement for a girl who, through ill-advised and misguided methods, still had the heart to do what she considered best for all of us.

This latest matter of concern comes at a time when violence and attacks on students run rampant at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. According to exclusive sources, no less than thirty-two deliberate attacks on fellow pupils have resulted in the hospitalisation of students in the infirmary for a course of at least three days. Many attribute this detestable deterioration of public morale with the recent emergence of House Black, whose young heir, Harry Black, currently attends as a first year.

Do we have to suffer these insolent and blatant attacks on the public order every time a Black actually does choose to attend Hogwarts?

The board of governors admits to being "concerned over the regrettable increase of physical violence" and vows to found a committee whose sole purpose the...'

'Well,' said Draco drily. 'It's astonishing how you still make it in there despite being the victim, Harry. Good job!'

'Well, even I have to admit that's pretty anticlimactic. I mean, even Harry just attending Hogwarts made bigger news than the revelation of Fawley's schemes. What's with all the letters?' asked Tracey nosily.

'The first one... Merlin! W-well, the first one is from an aunt of mine,' said Harry over the rustling of parchment. Hermione noticed that Draco and Daphne seemed to perk up a bit. 'She, ahem, she asks me if I want her to...Emeric's Evil Eye, that's distasteful!' Harry hastily put the letter down, looking slightly disgusted.

'That bad, ey?' asked Tracey sympathetically.

'Erm, yes. Suffice it to say that it's probably better that Fawley is not at Hogwarts anymore.' Carefully, and making sure that only Daphne could have a look at the letter, he opened the other envelope. He'd recognised the handwriting immediately.

'Harry

I'm glad you've finally managed to oust your immediate opposition, even more so since I now can be sure of your relative safety at Hogwarts. I have followed your request on keeping the deal with the Fawleys, though I might not have chosen to be so lenient if it hadn't been for your plea. Still, it seems like a small price to pay to ensure your well-being – for now. Let me tell you that I've lost many hours of sleep over your situation in Scotland, and it was all I could do to somewhat downplay it all when being interviewed by our family. Now, however, it seems Bellatrix has finally gotten wind of the actual events. I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to write you this instant. Also, seeing as the twins will attend next year, please be sure to placate her as much as possible. You might rightfully ask why I'm writing this in a letter; well, two of your aunts have accused me of giving you too much leeway, though they might have phrased it differently, especially concerning matters of your security. Thus, it will probably be one of them who will fetch you when your term finally ends this year. Seeing as I still have some business to attend to on the mainland, this does suit me just fine, though I do promise that we'll see each other during your holidays.

If you have any further concerns or problems, do not hesitate to contact me at once.

Your grandfather,
Arcturus Black'

'So that other letter was from Bellatrix?' asked Daphne in a whisper, peeking over his shoulder at the letter.

'Yes.'

'Show me!' demanded Daphne in a low voice, nudging him in the ribs.

'You really don't want to read that,' said Harry carefully, fighting the urge to lean away from her.

'Don't be like that, not today. Show me already!'

Harry sighed and handed her the letter, watching with great satisfaction as her face first turned subtly red, then violently green. Eventually, Daphne thrust the letter back in his hand. 'Urgh, that's foul! Even I don't think she deserves that.'

~BLHD~

Harry hastily closed the door after Selwyn came through, spying around the corner to make sure nobody was in the corridor.

'There's nobody else who'll turn up?' Marceus Selwyn was a fifth year prefect and the older brother of the younger Selwyn, who was in Harry's year. He had a big and bulky stature, though his facial features were quite sharp and refined. His attentive blue eyes always projected the impression of amusement through the curtain of coffee brown hair. 'I hope you didn't invite any Notts.' He scowled angrily.

'No,' Harry replied simply.

'And Hannah says she'd rather snog a Dementor than follow up on your invitation,' said Neville. 'Sorry, Harry,' he added with a guilty little smile.

'It's okay. Nothing unexpected.'

'Well, I bet you didn't invite any Weasley to represent the Prewetts, so I guess this is it then?' Selwyn sat down and began playing with a snitch replica.

'Oh, dear me,' replied Harry, patting his pockets. 'Now that you mention it, I seem to have misplaced my invitation for Mr Percy Weasley.'

'Don't bother looking,' grunted Selwyn.

'Let's just get started,' said Neville nervously. 'Why did you call for us to meet, Harry?'

'Right. Well, I just wanted to inform you of what transpired between me and the elder Fawley girl.'

'And why would you do that?' asked Selwyn, not bothering to look up from his snitch.

'Because I want Neville and Abbott to stop their House's juvenile attempts to disrupt my life at Hogwarts.'

Selwyn laughed rancorously. 'And why should they follow your suggestion?'

'Because I can't guarantee their safety anymore.' Turning towards Neville, who looked rather uncomfortable at being in a meeting with those who represented his family's political enemies, Harry inclined his head and continued speaking in a calm manner. 'You know my family, Neville. My grandfather has truly lost his patience in this matter. If anyone, Muggle-born or pure-blood, continues this moronic crusade, they'll be dealt with – harshly.'

'Is that a threat?' asked Neville grimly.

'No, Neville. That is what will happen.'

'What do you offer then?' Longbottom asked.

'Nothing.'

'Nothing?' he asked, annoyed. 'Come on, Harry. This isn't how it's done.'

'I'm offering nothing because this is a service, not a request. I know it wasn't you who instigated them, and for all of Abbott's obvious deficiencies, she's still not quite stupid enough to do something that could backfire so spectacularly. I'm speaking about those degenerates who fell prey to Fawley's promises. Don't deny it!' Harry raised a hand to forestall the inevitable reply. 'I know she did. If you want to keep your loveable and bribable housemates, wash their heads. Otherwise, there'll be a few more empty beds. I got their names, Nev.'

Neville sighed. 'Yes, alright, Harry. I get your point. I'll talk with Hannah, too. But what exactly did happen with you and Fawley? Her family is washing their hands of her like there's no tomorrow. It's a bit embarrassing to watch how eager they are to cast her out.'

And so, Harry told them - some of it anyway. Neville's brow creased as he listened attentively. Selwyn, on the other hand, gave no indication that he was listening at all, his hand snatching the little ball out of the air with practised ease every few moments.

'So why did she kill Nott, then? Has she told you?' Neville asked in confusion. 'I mean, framing you like that was incredibly risky and prone to failure in the first place. You would have needed to be apprehended standing over him, wand outstretched and screaming "Take that, Theodore!" to get a conviction, and, even then, I'm not sure that your family couldn't have pulled something off. Sure, it was a nasty bit of business and your, well, what remains of your reputation's taken a hit, but I doubt your grandfather even had to do something.'

Harry hesitated for a second, a small frown on his own face.

'Harry?' Neville asked again.

'Don't you get it, Longbottom? It wasn't Fawley.' Selwyn's voice was thick with suppressed laughter. 'Oh, this is just precious. Do you actually have any idea who could've done it, Black?'

'...no,' admitted Harry eventually, deciding that it wasn't worth the effort to hide the truth.

'Well, this is hilarious! After more than half a year of suffering Fawley's little games, you're telling me there's another maniac loose? Great, just great!'

'Well, that is...unsettling. I'm really sorry, Harry. For what it's worth.' Neville smiled at him, and Harry suspected he meant it. Despite them ending up on different fronts, he'd at least managed to always remain civil with Neville. Something he was, especially when considering Abbott and Bones, not taking for granted. 'Have you told Professor Dumbledore?' Neville inquired in a worried tone.

Harry and Selwyn just snorted in reply. 'Yeah, right. Silly of me to ask, sorry. Well, I'll speak with Hannah, and we'll see about talking to those who don't have an inkling of what's really going on. Still, I hope we don't have reason to do this more often. Even, er, even without Nott, this is a rather uncomfortable experience for me.' He stood up and walked towards the door. 'Sorry, nothing personal, Harry.'

'Don't worry about it. So long, Neville.'

'Take care, Harry. Selwyn.'

They both watched Neville leave, though Selwyn remained seated. 'So, what's the reason you actually invited me, Black? I'm not as naïve as Longbottom, you know.'

'Isn't it strange how confident the Fawleys were, Selwyn?' Harry's voice was smooth as silk, but his eyes drilled into Selwyn with a ferocity that might have unsettled a normal wizard his age.

'Why would you say that?'

'Well, while both the House of Greengrass and the House of Fawley are respected members of the Wizengamot and the British wizarding community in general, wouldn't you agree that the both of them working together to attack a Greater House is a little out of order?'

Selwyn stared blankly at him. 'I'm not sure I'm following, Black. Spit it out already.'

'Oh! I'm sorry. I'm just surprised you don't think it strange that two Lesser Houses even dare challenge the Blacks when every witch and wizard on the streets can tell you how futile or possibly suicidal such an act might prove to be.' Harry was still staring at him. 'Politically speaking, of course.'

Selwyn looked back, his face as calm as a frozen lake.

'Wouldn't you, therefore, be forced to agree that a third party would have had to have given its silent approval?'

'An intriguing thought,' replied Selwyn, who still seemed relaxed, though his snitch had been resting in his hand for some time now.

'Yes, but who could be so bold, I ask. Surely, the Ministry faction wouldn't associate with anyone who's even remotely connected to the Blacks. The same could very well be said for the Pillars or Dumbledore.'

'I suppose,' said Selwyn coolly.

'Then, I ask, would either the Fawleys or the Greengrasses stoop so low as to ally themselves with the Notts and the rest of the degenerates?'

Selwyn said nothing.

'No, that really seems unlikely. Now then, that leaves only two of the greater factions: the Blacks and the Selwyns.' Harry looked suddenly mildly shocked and puzzled. 'Oh my!' he said, raising a hand to his mouth. 'How awkward.'

Finally, Selwyn's facade broke into a cold sneer. 'Spare me the antics, Black. So what? Are you going to threaten me again? I'm neither dumb nor helpless like Fawley, and you know it.'

'Please, Selwyn, there's no need to be so defensive. This is only a friendly little chat.'

'How quaint,' replied Selwyn, rolling his eyes.

'Incidentally, do you know the name of the last Greater House that challenged the Blacks?'

'No, I don't.'

'Well, funnily enough,' Harry returned, throwing Selwyn a feral smile, 'I would have to look it up myself.'

Selwyn snorted and got up, walking towards the door. 'Well, I admit it's going to be a bit more fun with you around. On the other hand, purely hypothetically speaking, what do you think this outcome would mean for my family? I mean, Nott's still dead. You still took all the blame and lost what little credibility you had. A Lesser House that was closely linked to you is now trying to hastily pick up the pieces of a broken deal, while the Fawleys are just trying to weather the storm. Crouch and Dumbledore look like idiots because they haven't really done anything to help resolve this. The Pillars don't look too good either; what with their little underlings acting like common thugs.'

When Selwyn reached the door, he turned around. His voice was light, but his eyes, Harry realised, were as friendly and warm as the endless reaches of the Arctic. 'Why, now that I think about it, I'd say that the only family not to lose anything due to this unfortunate chain of events would be mine. Hypothetically speaking, of course. Better luck next time, Black!'

~BLHD~

And time finally passed peacefully. It wasn't long until the thick blanket of snow finally melted, and the thawing castle started to glitter and gleam so blindingly that one could hardly look its way. The majestic icicles, hanging from the ridges of the countless towers, that had graced Hogwarts like the kings of winter made way for the inevitable banisher of frost, spring, as it engulfed the ancient masonry with its warming and life-giving breath.

In the second to last Quidditch game of the year, Gryffindor devastated Slytherin, setting a new record by winning with a lead of 490 points. Professor Snape was not amused, and there were rumours of permanent detention every weekend should the team fail to win even a single match next year.

But all that mattered fairly little to Harry, who was sitting in the common room, idly playing with his wand and working through a small stack of books and notes in preparation for the end-of-year exams.

'Have you guys given any thought to the electives?' asked Hermione, looking up from an impressive stack of informational material about the different courses Hogwarts offered.

'It's more about what you get than what you want, obviously,' opined Draco. 'Some teachers are utter rubbish, whereas some electives are easy Es with little to no effort.'

'I wish they'd stuck to letting us choose later. I haven't really had the opportunity to judge the teachers based on their skills yet,' complained Hermione, holding up a small leaflet that read 'Envision your future in Divination'. 'What are your picks?'

'Well, I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures and Runes. Hagrid's an oaf, but it'll be an easy Exceeds Expectations if ever I saw one. And Runes is easy, too. I'll probably need to work a bit, sure, but Babbling is said to be fairly competent.'

'Hagrid's not an oaf! He's been very kind whenever I've stumbled into him. Wh-' Hermione seemed to struggle with herself for a while before she continued. 'What do you think, Harry?'

'What?' Harry looked up from his book and blinked a few times, his brain replaying the last few seconds of Hermione and Draco's conversation, mildly surprised that she was willing to rope him into their talk. 'Oh, electives, right. Hagrid's a bit of an oddball, but-apparently-he knows his subject well enough. He's a bit of an, ahem, unique teacher though. And a bit too closely tied to Dumbledore for my taste. I'll be sticking with Runes and Arithmancy.'

'Well, Arithmancy does look fascinating, I have to admit,' said Hermione eagerly. 'But they all look so good! Think I can take more than two?'

'You can, but you shouldn't,' said Draco. 'I mean, it's really your business, but I've been warned by my relatives to not take too many subjects. Not that I would do so in the first place, of course.'

'I don't know,' replied Hermione, clearly unconvinced. 'Maybe I'd better have a look at all of them, and then drop some?'

'Divination is useless unless you're really talented. Given your...heritage, I doubt you'll do well,' remarked Draco. 'And Muggle Studies? Come on, don't waste your time like that. If you really want to have a look at that crap, just borrow a few old school books from the library and give it a glance. No need to take up any commitments, especially when Snape might decline your request to drop a subject.'

'That...seems rather sensible, I guess. Alright, I'll go with Runes, Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures, then.' Hermione made a few sweeping movements with her quill before holding up her application form with distinct pride.

'What are you guys up to?' asked Tracey as she emerged from the girl's dormitory with Daphne in tow.

'Choosing electives!' announced Hermione in a good temper before sighing happily, sinking back into her chair while Tracey sat down on the arm rest. 'This is what school is supposed to be like! None of that conspiracy stuff or wild chases across the castle!'

Harry briefly looked up from his revisions and involuntarily locked gazes with Selwyn, who smirked confidently. 'Sure,' he said neutrally.

'Well, technically, you were more into the fleeing bit, and it was us who gave chase.' Tracey poked her tongue out at Hermione, grinning in good humour.

'Very funny,' commented Hermione darkly, though she too smiled briefly.

'Can't you summon Minnie again, Harry? I want some more cocoa!'

'Snape said I wasn't to call her into the common room anymore. It's apparently frowned upon to have your own elf serve you at Hogwarts,' Harry returned, not bothering to look up again.

'Well, I don't care!' announced Tracey loudly. 'I want my hot chocolate! And it's not like anybody thinks you could get any more conceited, arrogant or braggy anyway!'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Thank you, Miss Davis.'

'Well, for once I agree with Granger,' added Daphne as she sat down next to Harry and winked at Tracey. 'With spring rolling in, there's lots of interesting things going on. Did you know that there are at least three new couples already within just our own year?'

Harry decided to completely tune out the conversation at the point of fourteen-year-old girls discussing matters of the heart. Shrugging, he called for Minnie and ordered a round of drinks for everyone from the thoroughly delighted elf. Sitting back and enjoying his tea, he closed his eyes and mused that, just maybe, Hermione might have a point in so far as the peaceful, uneventful and thoroughly relaxing days they'd shared as of recently had been a balm for his soul.

He tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Daphne say, '...and then I would want him to trade wands with me just like in those classic romance books to see if we're compatible and...' causing Harry to accidentally spray most of the tea in his mouth across the common room.

'Ew, Harry, what gives?' Tracey cried out, jumping from her seat.

'Er, choked on the tea, sorry,' he invented wildly, his brain racing in panic. 'W-what was that bit about trading wands?'

'Oh, you were listening?' asked Daphne ardently, rewarding him with a beaming smile. 'Well, there's that old marriage custom. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it yet. It's sooo romantic; a witch and a wizard, trading their wands as a symbol of trust, faith and commitment, assuring themselves of their compatibility. It's not really magical or binding, but don't you think it's just...'

Harry lost it again at that point. His movements stilling completely, he sat stock-still, his eyes wide with horror.

'...and so many of Magical Europe's most famous weddings ended with the ceremonial trading of wands. I would just lov-Harry, are you listening to me?'

'What, oh, yes. Fascinating,' Harry answered, fighting the rising blush in his face like never before in his entire life.

'I'm delighted you approve!'

'You're not supposed to tell them, Daphy!' Tracey shrieked with playful indignity. 'It's ruined if they're only doing it because they think we expect them to.'

'Oh, don't worry; I can always pretend that my future husband's a romantic genius, no problem.'

Hermione was watching him, one eyebrow raised and a stunned expression on her face. 'Harry?' she asked slowly.

'Pardon? Oh, er, it's nothing. Don't worry.' Merlin, Daphne will absolutely butcher someone if ever she finds out.

AN1: Pacing, first year and general remarks. Greetings! As you may now realise, we are nearing the end of Harry's first year at Hogwarts. I know the abrupt ending may be a surprise for a lot of you, but the first year always was, in my mind at least, more about introducing lots of characters, relationships and concepts. And that I did; I've introduced the prosecuted yet frighteningly powerful Blacks, Harry's and Arcturus' good relationship, the mystery surrounding their family, Aenor Rose, the Pillars, Hermione's struggle to integrate into Slytherin and much more. The actual plot, meaning Fawley's scheme to politically trounce the Blacks and Harry was, while certainly present from Harry's first night at Hogwarts, not exactly the main selling point of the first 25 chapters.

However, as you might have noted, I've been able to establish a lot of information that contradicts canon without resorting to information dumps or too many flashbacks after chapter three. From my perspective, the first book was needed to establish the world where everything will take place. If you think about it, Harry's first canon year wasn't much different, except that my people and especially the politics are rather more complicated. As a contrast, take a look at this somewhat crude summary: Harry's being introduced into the magical world while stumbling upon his nemesis, who just so happens to be stupid enough to be thwarted by an eleven-year-old while fighting over an invaluable magical artefact that is being hidden in a school of nosy brats.

That being said, the next few years may now build upon that which has been established so far, so expect the second and following years to be much more plot-centric and streamlined. In hindsight, I might have arranged a lot of chapters differently (or cut some backstory here and there), but I do not necessarily regret how book one turned out (also, I would've had to endure even more pms accusing me of just wanting to annoy my readers by withholding information).

AN2: Hermione and Harry. In case you're wondering, their situation will be resolved in a satisfactory manner in the next chapter.

AN3: The last chapter. I originally intended to publish one big chapter to close out the first year. Now, I have decided against that. Firstly, the chapter would have been too long, threatening to break 20k words. Secondly, it felt even more abrupt to end the first year with only one chapter after Fawley's downfall. Thirdly, I want to use the peaceful and quiet time between their victory and the next year to end it all on a light-hearted note. I know some of you may think that the last bit somewhat breaks with the established mood rather abruptly, and I agree. Still, the end of the first year deserves a peaceful ending. And lastly, I want to finish Hermione's inauguration. It's taken nearly 150k words, but, finally, Hermione has managed to acquire the skill set necessary to somewhat survive at Hogwarts in general and Slytherin in particular.