The Unspeakable Harry Dursley

by WriteShop

The Dursleys are less cardboard cutout evil, though they still manage to make Harry unable to have healthy relationships. As a result, Harry grows up less heroic (at least in his own mind). But heroism is about what you do, not why you do it. Voldemort's resurrection is delayed until after Harry graduates Hogwarts. Oh, and Harry's a Slytherin.

5. Chapter -3: Hogwarts year 3, part 1

Summer break started out the same as last year – Vernon did his best to pretend that Harry didn't exist while Petunia piled on the chores. And both of them freaked out at the slightest mention of magic. He ended up propping a chair up against his doorknob for privacy and working on his homework late in the evenings, when it was too dark for gardening and he was mostly left to his own devices.

"Hey, Harry?" Dudley knocked on his door one evening. Harry carefully rolled up his charms essay (it was the last one of his summer work) and opened up the door.

"What do you need, Dudley?"

Dudley came in and sat down awkwardly on Harry's bed, "I, uh, need some advice, and I don't know who else to ask."

One of Harry's eyebrows quirked up in curiosity as he waited for Dudley to continue. This whole experience was surreal – last summer Dudley had avoided him just like his father, so their last real interaction was two years ago, when Dudley and his gang regularly chased after him, trying to beat him up.

Dudley sighed in defeat as he realized that Harry wouldn't be able to help him unless he explained the problem, "There's this girl I like in one of my classes, but I don't know how to ask her out."

Harry's other eyebrow joined it's partner in climbing for the sky, 'This? Dudley is asking me for DATING advice? He's asking ME for dating advice?'

"Uh, Dudley, I don't have a girlfriend, so I don't really know.."

"But you're smart. And I can't ask anybody at my school – they would never let me live it down!"

Harry sat down at his desk chair and put his head into his hands. "Ok, let's take this from the top. What sort of things does she like?"

Harry spent the next half hour drawing out details from Dudley about his crush, who seemed like a remarkably normal girl. "Look, I am not an expert. But I think you should write her a letter over the summer. If she replies, then ask if she wants to get together, and give her your phone number to call, to organize it."

"But what do I write?" Dudley looked lost.

"Dude, I'm not ghost writing your love letter!"

"Do ghosts do that sort of thing?"

Harry put his head back into his hands, "Just tell her about what you've been doing these last two weeks since school ended."

"I've been watching the telly."

"Ok, so tell her that, and then tell her that one of the characters on your show reminded you of her."

"I mostly watch football," Dudley replied morosely.

"I saw you watching that.. Dave's World, I think it was. Write about that."

Dudley thought about it, looking like he had just been assigned extra homework. "Thanks, Harry." He got up and lumbered out to his room.

"That was…" Harry shook his head, "That just happened, didn't it?"

So getting a letter from Ron inviting him to stay at his house for a week was both a surprise and a relief.

Mr. Weasley ("Call me Arthur") picked him up the following Sunday and drove him out to the countryside. "My wife is dying to meet you, Harry. We're all so grateful for what you did for Ginny."

Harry shrugged awkwardly, not certain how to respond. He had never had to deal with gratitude before – it was a completely foreign experience. Under the circumstances, it felt wrong to tell Mr. Weasely – Arthur – that he owed him a debt. How would he even phrase that?

"We all owe you a huge debt of gratitude."

Oh, ok. That would work. "You're welcome Mr.. Arthur. I, ah, someday I'll take you up on it."

Arthur smiled good naturedly at the awkward almost-teen. "In the meantime, you'll meet almost the entire family: Charlie – my second oldest – is home for a week." Arthur segued into telling Harry about how Charlie worked with dragons, and then went on to talk about Bill & his adventures. Harry didn't know how to make him stop without being rude, so by the time Harry arrived at the Burrow, he felt like he had known the family for ages.

When they got out of the car, they were greeted by a familiar stocky redhead. "Oh, hey. You're the kid who had the dragon at Hogwarts. I'm Charlie."

"What dragon? You never told me about that!" Ron spilled out of the door followed by the twins and Molly Weasley, who enveloped him in a smothering hug.

"You saved my poor Ginerva! I don't know how I can ever thank you, but you can always come over. Our home is your home!" It was the strangest experience in Harry's life. It was like something out of a book. 'Is she faking it?' In Harry's experience, people didn't 'emote' like that. You did people favors, and they did you favors back. There was none of this… sappy stuff. This was like something out of a bad TV show.

"You should be thanking Ron," Harry muttered self consciously, deflecting, "He's the one who figured out that something was going on with Ginny. If not for him, I wouldn't have even gone down there!"

"What was it like? Was it really the Camber of Secrets?" Fred (or maybe George) asked, "Ron never said much about what was at the bottom."

As Harry walked into the house, surrounded by a cloud of red haired Weasleys, Ginny walked over and stuck out her hand. When Harry took it, she gave it a firm shake, "Thank you for saving my life." She pronounced seriously. After a moment, she added, "But you're still no Harry Potter."

"Ginny!" Molly looked outraged, but her daughter was already heading back into the kitchen.

"Dinner is ready in five!" She called out before her mother could get to scolding.

"You also cook?" Harry asked, a little surprised – with that many siblings, he figured the older ones would be in charge of helping Molly.

"Do you see any other girls in the family?" Ginny replied dismissively.

Harry closed his mouth, deciding not to mention that he also did the cooking at the Dursleys. But he did stay a moment in the kitchen to watch how a magical kitchen operated. "Stop watching me, it's weird!" Ginny blurted out as she blushed."If you want to help you can go set the table with Ron."

At dinner that evening, Harry sat next to Ron and watched the battle over the mashed potatoes that was being waged at the far end of the table between Fred and Ginny. Nobody was stopping it as it escalated, since Molly was getting something from the kitchen and Arthur was 'in the zone', talking about his work. "In the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, we don't usually get called for emergency cases, but today just as I was about to go get some lunch we got word from the Aurors that they had arrested a woman by the name of Erma Jenkins for using a vanishing cabinet to try to kill her husband's lover." Both Fred and Ginny's attention pivoted to their father. This was juicer than any spuds. "They asked me to go see if the poor woman was actually dead or not."

"Was she?" Percy asked. He had actually been paying close attention to what his father had been saying for the whole time.

"I don't know, but she's as good as. Mr Jenkins had the vanishing cabinet in his private study, and it was linked to one that was in the young lady's house, and he was using it to sneak her in at night, but Erma found out and modified the Cabinet so that when the doxy slipped inside to return home, she disappeared between here and there." He held up his hands to demonstrate 'here' and 'there'. "And now she is nowhere."

Just as Arthur was finishing, Molly walked in, "Arthur, what are you telling the children! This is not the sort of thing for young ears, especially not at the dining table!" She scowled down the table at her brood, who quickly hunkered down and went back to their normal behaviors, so as not to draw their mothers ire.

A plop of potatoes landed against Harry's water glass.

"Fred! You know better than that!" Molly snapped.

"I'm George, mother dearest."

"I know which of my sons is which, Fred!"

Harry looked in confusion to see Ginny acting the model of good behavior. 'I'm almost certain she was the one who actually flipped the potatoes.'

The organized chaos of the red-headed clan was more than a little overwhelming. Harry did his best to avoid getting caught up in it. It turned out that the only way to do so was to spend every free moment outside, playing quidditch or just flying.

Fortunately, all the Weasleys were very athletic, including Ginny. As the week came to a close, Harry found himself racing Ron through an obstacle course that the twins had put together. "You know, I'm glad you're not on the Slytherin quidditch team." Ron quipped, "If you were, we'd never be able to beat them."

"Thanks, I guess." Harry never knew how to respond to most comments that the Weasley's made. They didn't criticize or demand anything from him, at least not at the level he was used to. It was like they didn't care about him.

In the end he was happy to return to the Dursleys for the rest of the summer.

*UHD*

Soon enough, it was fall, and the start of Third year. Harry now felt like an old hand – he would nod a dignified hello to his acquaintances from the 'Library Gang' as he made his way down the length of the train, maybe chat with his friends (ie Adrian – he only had the one) and then make his way to sit in back by himself (as usual). Or so he planned. He strode self confidently onto the Hogwarts express, only to find that nobody was paying any attention to him. They were all talking – whispering, really – in small groups.

"Sirius Black escaped, and they say he was sighted in London!"

"Do you think Hogwarts will be safe?"

"Dummy, if he's in London, then how is he going to get all the way to Scotland – he doesn't have a wand."

"He could steal one!"

Harry finally made his way to the same back compartment as last year. Except this year, Ron and the two Weasley twins spilled into it as the train pulled out. "Whoo! We just made it!" One of the twins collapsed onto the bench opposite Harry as the other twin put his trunk onto the overhead rack.

"Yeah, Ginny took forever to get ready," Ron groused.

"Hey, don't try to pin this on Ginny – you're the one who didn't get up the first three times mom tried to wake you – she finally had to use an Aguamenti spell to hose you out of bed!"

"Whatever," Ron muttered, looking embarrassed.

"Hey, I'm going to go hunt down the trolley lady," announced one of the twins, "Do you want anything, Harry? It's on us."

"I don't think she's out yet – it's too early." Harry replied, still a little bewildered at both the chaos and the fact that the Weasleys had apparently sought his company again.

The twin shrugged, "Yeah, but if you sweet talk her a little, she'll sell you stuff even before she takes the cart out of the storage room."

Sometime later, as Harry and the Weasleys were gorging on the large assortment of snacks that Fred had purchased, Harry asked, "How come you guys are so free with money? I thought your family was.. frugal." Which was code-speak for 'dirt poor'.

The twins exchanged a glance before George (Harry was almost certain it was George) said, "We have a little side business – Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, the best gags and joke items you can buy - so we have a little extra cash. Though we mostly are putting it back into our business."

Harry nodded, silently scolding himself: That would teach him to not judge a book by its cover.

*UHD*

Riding to Hogwarts with the Weasleys had been fun at the start, but by halfway through their non-stop chatter began to feel like sandpaper being rubbed over his nerves. When they finally arrived, Harry was glad to be free of them and made a quick dash for one of the horseless carriages while they stopped to talk with a couple of girls - their quidditch teammates.

Harry was just relaxing in the gloomy (if well upholstered) interior when Hermione slipped in and coloroportused the carriage door. "I know who you are".

"I know who I am too. And nice to see you too." Harry huffed in annoyance. Hermione had barely spoken to him last year. First she got all pissy over something he said about Lockhart, and then after Christmas break she almost never came to the library because everybody was too scared of the petrifications. And now she was acting like they were the closest of friends (though part of his ire was fatigue from all the social interactions with the Weasleys)

"You're Harry Potter! You see, Harry Potter was supposed to be our age, but he didn't show up at Hogwarts our year or the following year, yet there have not been any reports of anything untoward happening to him. So QED, he must be here under an assumed name. And he must be here as either a muggleborn or half-blood, because all of the Purebloods know each other since childhood, which left a very small pool of potential candidates. And I did a little research, and you match the description of James Potter, his father, so there is a non-zero chance that you are..."

"Or maybe he left the country and is going to school in America." Harry interrupted her verbal deluge.

"The Americans would have made a big deal about it. Maybe not at first, but it's been a couple of years – plenty of time for them to figure it out! He might not be as big a celebrity there, but somebody would have told somebody else and then they would have realized what it means and told a reporter! Nobody can keep their mouth shut that long!"

'You're telling me,' Harry sighed. "You're right," Anything to get her to stop talking.

"I'm right about the American press, or about you being Harry Potter?"

"The second," Harry muttered.

"Really!" Hermione beamed. "I didn't think you would admit to it so easily."

"I'm not really hiding my identity - I just don't want people to make a fuss over me. And it wasn't that difficult either - wizards are completely lacking in common sense, so nobody other than you has managed to put two and two together. But that said, can you keep it to yourself? I have seen how bonkers wizards get over 'Harry Potter'" Harry made air-quotes as he said his name,"so I want to avoid it." And some of the other Slytherins would hassle him, but he wasn't going to admit that. Especially not to a girl.

"Ok, but in return, I'm going to want a favor."

Harry nodded. "That seems fair. What do you have in mind?" In Slytherin, everybody exchanged favors all the time. It was the house currency.

"Well," Hermione took a deep breath and continued quickly, "I want you to get Ron to ask me out to Hogsmead".

"Wait, I though he spent all of his time teasing you," Harry's brain hurt at the very idea. Despite currently hiding from the red-headed clan, he had enjoyed hanging out with Ron and the other Weasleys over the summer, but Harry knew that he wasn't typical: having grown up with the Dursleys, he was more thick skinned than a rhino. All of the Weaselys kids were brash verging on rude (though Fred & George covered it up with humor). And Ron's insecurities made him the worst of the bunch. Some of the stuff that came out of his mouth was only a slight degree better than what Draco spewed.

"He's not so bad once you get to know him. And he's funny and he comes through when it's important, like last year with his sister."

Harry sighed. He had asked Ron not to tell anybody that he had helped. The teachers and his family obviously knew, but nobody else - he didn't want the other students hassling him. And now it came back to, well, not bite him, but certainly to annoy him. "Fine. I'll talk to him when we get to the castle." Because Hermione was right. Ron DID have a good side, if you were willing to spend the time searching for it.

"No! You can't just tell him! You have to get him to do it off his own volition!"

Harry boggled, 'What.. is this Hermione 'I have common sense' Granger? The smartest witch of her generation.?' Harry's mouth flopped open and closed a couple of time with no sound coming out, "I guess I can try?"

"Thank you! You're a prince!" Hermione gave Harry a quick hug. Which didn't help Harry's situation any. He had seen the girls hug each other when they were happy or excited, but this was the first time any girl had ever hugged him, and his brain spent the rest of trip up to the castle rebooting.

'Maybe this huggy – emoty stuff actually IS normal?'

*UHD*

Albus put the Daily Prophet down and rubbed his forehead. It was the first day of class and he already had a headache. The headline blared 'Sirius Black spotted in Bibury. All of the Cotswalds on HIGH ALERT!'

And the story below the fold was a follow-on, titled 'Is Harry Potter hiding out on the Cotswalds? Intrepid reporter treks to investigate'.

Both stories were typical of the Prophet – sensational, but light on facts. Such as the fact that Harry Potter was nowhere near the Cotswalds. Which of course meant that there was no reason for Sirius to go to Bibury, unless he was just trying to hide, but a village where everybody knew everybody else by name was not the ideal local for such an endeavor. Not even a Dementor-maddened wizard would be so foolish.

Albus feared that the he would be coming to Hogswarts. But there was little he could do without giving away Harry's true identity, which would ruin the poor boys childhood. And he had worked so hard to let him have a normal one. Children should have a chance to be children.

He would just have to trust that Sirius Black still didn't know where Harry actually was. 'But then, why did he escape now?' Albus took one of his lemon candies and popped it into his mouth. The sour taste always helped him focus. 'Maybe it's just a coincidence. Harry has been at the school for over two years now, after all.'

The alternative was unappealing - he really didn't want the Ministry meddling in his school in their ham-handed way. 'I will see about refreshing the wards, and ask the portraits to keep an extra careful lookout for intruders'

*UHD*

Harry looked at the list of optional classes. As a Third year, he had to choose three electives. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes were obvious choices. He would have called them 'no brainers', but he felt that that appellation should be reserved for Muggle Studies. But the third one had been hard to pick. He had finally decided on Care of Magical Creature – it sounded like more fun than Divinaton, and he felt he deserved one fun class in his schedule.

As luck would have it, that also provided Harry his first chance to talk to Ron, as Slythirins had that class with the Gryffindors.

"Welcome to Care of Magical Creatures," Hagrid began. Class was meeting outside, in a field near Hagrid's hut. Standing off to one side was a creature that was half eagle and half horse. It was as tall as Hagrid, with a sharp beak and beady little eyes that viewed everything smaller than it as prey. Or maybe Harry was just projecting – that monster was bloody intimidating! It looked like it could rip him apart for a snack if he pissed it off.

"This year I'll be teaching ya about some wonderful creatures. None of this flobberworm stuff. We will be learning to treat with real animals. So that's why we'll be starting with hippogriphs," Hagrid gestured to the animal stand watching him. "Now, remember, hippogriphs are proud creatures, so you need to show them respect if you want to approach them. Like this," Hagrid swept a bow. The eagle headed monster dipped its front end in turn. "And only after you greet him can you approach Buckbeak – that's his name, ya see - and pet him if you'd like." Hagrid gently rubbed the side of Buckbeak's neck.

'How am I supposed to get Ron to ask Hermione out on his own?' Harry watched Ron messing around with one of the other Gryffindorks when Hagrid wasn't looking, ' His head is so thick that nothing short of pick ax will get through.'

"Anybody want to come and give it a try?" Hagrid looks expectantly at the students. "Anybody? Anybody... Harry?"

Harry tentatively approached the monster and bowed like Hagrid had demonstrated. 'Please don't kill me, please don't kill me.' But as he stood back up the hippogriph ignored him, instead glaring past him at the other students. Harry carefully reached out and stroked it's shoulder 'Wow. It's big.' Harry came up to its chest, but it towered another two feet above him. And its avian eyes showed no emotion, 'I bet it's wondering whether I would make a full meal or not'.

Harry walked back, making his way to where Ron was standing "That was cool! Did you see? It bowed when you did!" Ron must not have been paying attention when Hagrid demonstrated.

"What do you think of Hermione? Harry asked.

"I don't know. She's a girl," Ron tried to shrug nonchalantly.

"Well, at the Welcome Feast, I was sitting facing the Gryffindor table," He wasn't, but Ron wouldn't remember, "And I saw her glancing at you a bunch of times. I think she likes you."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked hopefully. On the one hand Harry was a good guy, but on the other, he was a Slytherin, and this could all be a mean prank. On the third hand, he was really hoping it was true.

Harry shrugged, "I wouldn't lie - You invited me to your house! It was a life saver – without that, I would never have been able to get my summer work done." No need to mention how emotionally confusing he had found the experience. Or the fact that unlike Ron, he had already done most of his summer homework right at the start of summer.

"Ow!" Harry turned to see Draco stagger back from the hippogriph holding his arm. "That monster attacked me! It's vicious!"

Harry and Hagrid both converged on the injured boy. The arm didn't look too bad. "I can take him to the nurse," Harry volunteered. If Hagrid took him it would be like the first year flying lesson all over again. And Draco wasn't so badly hurt – the arm was barely bleeding. All Harry needed to do was walk him over and he would score brownie points with Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey and maybe even Draco (though he wouldn't place any bets on that – the Malfoy heir was so stuck up that he treated any help as his due).

"Wait until I tell me father!" Draco pronounced as they walked off.

"Why are you going to tell your father?"

"Because Hagrid is an incompetent teacher – he shouldn't have brought a dangerous creature like a hippogriff to class. That half breed is a menace to all students."

Harry 'Hmm'ed to himself as they walked. "Whatever. But my father would expect me to take care of my problems on my own." As if Vernon would ever lift a hand to help him (It must be nice to have a father who actually cared about you).

"I… I am taking care of him on my own. The Slytherin way!" Draco sounded defensive. Harry just shrugged. He liked Hagrid, and he didn't want to see him get into trouble, but there was no arguing with Draco. His little entitled ego would never let him admit he was wrong.

He just wished Draco would grow up already. Life wasn't about getting handed everything you wanted.

*UHD*

The rest of Harry classes went much better. Both of his other two electives were interesting: Arithmancy especially was challenging. It was a small class made up of all different houses – in addition to Harry, it had Terry, Padma, Michael Corner and Sue Li from Ravenclaw, Ernie from Hufflepuff and Hermione and Dean Thomas from Gryphindor. Draco was in the class for one day, but dropped it when he saw the amount of homework that Professor Vector assigned.

Professor Lupin took over the DADA position, and he was the best DADA professor that they had had as yet by far. He wasn't an exciting lecturer, but he really knew the material and he quickly brought the class up to grade level (or at least those that paid attention).

"Today, we will be covering dark creatures. The boggart specifically. Since this monster calls up our worst fears, I have conjured a privacy partition, and you will be going one at a time," Prof Lupin gestured to the far side of the class before continuing on to explain how to cast the Ridikulous charm. "This is an example of how your mental state can affect your spell casting. Another example that you will see in your sixth year is the Patronus charm, where you need to bring up your happiest memory to cast it. Who wants to go first. Mr. Malfoy?" Remus took his position at the edge of the partition, so that he would be ready to assist in case he was needed (and so that he could keep an eye on the rest of the class, so they wouldn't get into trouble as they waited their turn).

Draco stepped up to the boggart's wardrobe. The rest of the class could see his shadowed outline on the curtain, but the shape that the boggart took didn't show up on the (be-spelled) partition.

He stood, frozen, for almost a minute before he managed to cast the spell.

"As Mr. Malfoy demonstrated, it can be very difficult to think of the right spell when you are under pressure. This is true in any Defense situation. Who's next?" When nobody volunteered, he turned to one of the girls who was chatting with her friends and had clearly not been paying attention to his (admittedly dull) explanation. "Miss Parkinson, if you will?"

Pansy approached the wardrobe. A moment later, she shrieked and rushed back out. "You can try again at the end of class, but in the meantime, please practice the Ridikulous spell as I have instructed."

"I'll take my turn," Harry approached. He was kind of curious to see what his greatest fear was.

As he stepped behind the partition, Remus leaned over and whispered, "If you don't feel comfortable doing this Harry, you don't have to."

Harry shrugged, "I think I can handle it". He adjusted his grip on his wand and took a step closer to the bureau holding the boggart. The door flew open and Vernon leaped out, holding a wand and snarling as the tip glowed green.

"Rid.. Ridikulous!" Harry pronounced without hesitation. Vernon immediately shoved the wand up his nose and started dancing an Irish jig.

"That.. was impressive, Harry. You corralled your fears very quickly." Lupin wasn't certain what the original image had been, but it looked like a composite of a poorly remembered Voldemort with some other person. "If you ever want to talk about it..."

"Thanks, professor, but maybe later," Harry wasn't comfortable with this ratty looking man. He seemed nice, but Petunia had beaten neatness into him, and ever since scruffiness had made him ill at ease (He felt a little of that with the Weasleys as well, who despite being incredibly nice people were not always as neat as his step-mother's doctrine required).

*UHD*

Harry had a thick tome on the table in front of him as he was seated in his usual table in the library "What are you researching?" Hermione sat down next to him. Harry glanced up in surprise – what with all the weirdness last year, he had forgotten what it was like to have another person at his study table (though with Dudley and Hermione and everybody talking about dating, this year was shaping to have its own (slightly) less dangerous weirdness).

"I'm looking up the Patronus charm – Professor Lupin mentioned it in class. and I was thinking we could work on it at the dueling club."

"Isn't that a 6th year charm? And it only works against dark creatures, so it won't be of any use in a duel."

Harry shrugged, "We sometimes do spells that are not for duels but that just seem kind of fun." Well, which he thought of as fun, as he was the defacto leader of the club. "Why, you want to join?"

Hermione 'hmmed', but didn't agree. "Snape is still the faculty advisor?"

"Yes, but he's less of a jerk there than in class."

"You're really not selling this." After a pause she added, "I'm not really the 'sporty' type, and also, all of the other kids in the dueling club are Slytherins, so I won't know anybody there". And as much as she didn't want to have a bias against them, Slytherins also made her uncomfortable.

"Suit yourself," Harry frowned, 'Maybe I can get Terry to join. And I can ask him to bring a long a few buddies.' Terry was a popular guy. If he joined, some students from other houses would join as well, to hang out with the 'cool kids'.

Hermione settled into her seat and unfolded the Daily Prophet that she had snagged from the shelf (classes had just started, so she still had time for some light reading). "Did you have a chance to talk to Ron yet?" She asked nonchalantly, hiding behind her newspaper.

"Yeah, I did."

"What did you say?" She demanded, lowering her paper a smidge so she could see Harry over the top.

Harry considered - she had explicitly told him to not tell Ron that she was interested in him, but that's kind of what he did. And he didn't want her to be pissed at him again this year. "Oh, look – they are sending the Dementors out to look for Sirius Black!" He pointed to the front page story on her Daily Prophet.

Hermione turned her newspaper around and put it flat on the table. "That's dumb. Dementors are no good at searching. And they are incredibly dangerous to have wandering about. They should put them as guards, around Hogwarts!"

"Why here?"

"Because it's obvious that Sirius Black will be coming here, to finish the job – he tried to kill you all those years ago."

"Shh!" Harry hissed as he glanced to see if anybody had overheard. "Don't talk about that!" Not that it was a big deal if other people knew. But people like Draco would make a nuisance of themselves if they found out. "And how would he even know that I'm at Hogwarts? You're the only one who has figured out about me."

"Maybe he saw a photo of you and recognized you – you do look just like James Potter, after all." Hermione whispered this time. She had forgotten that keeping his identity secret was a big deal for Harry.

"How much time did you spend researching me before you guessed?" Harry asked, causing Hermione to color slightly, "Besides, I am pretty certain that Azkaban doesn't allow alumni newsletters for their inmates."

"You're right," Hermione giggled, "And even if they did, I can't see Dumbledore sending one to somebody as sketchy as Sirius Black."

They ended up chatting about Dementors before they returned to reading. Harry was mildly surprised that Hermione was so easy to distract. Or maybe she was just too embarrassed to continue asking about Ron.

*UHD*

"I take it you children wish to continue the dueling club?" The way Snape said 'children', it sounded like a swear word. It was late Wednesday afternoon, right before dinner.

"Yeah, that's why we're here," Zambini replied with a cocky smile. The group was still very small, but they had added a couple of students – specifically Terry, Ernie McMillon and Ginny Weasley, bringing their total of non-Slytherin students to 3 out of 9.

Harry examined the group. With Ginny here, he had a good chance of enticing Hermione into joining.

Harry glanced over at Zambini, who was acting like the biggest fish in a small pond, as usual. 'I hope he doesn't hassle Ginny too much.' At least Draco wasn't part of the club.

"Very well. Lets start with a review, to see how much you forgot over the summer," Snape put them through basic drills, casting expelliarmus and stupefy, and blocking with protego.

Harry casually shuffled over to the Gryffindor girl, "I'm glad you came. It'll be great to have all four houses in the club," He whispered while the other students were all paying attenuation to Snape.

"Ow!" Harry started as a stinging hex impacted on him. "What was that for?" He turned, expecting to see Zambini. But to his surprise it was Daphne, her usual stoic expression marred by a small frown.

"Weren't you paying attention? We're supposed to practice blocking with Protego," she replied in her usual cool fashion.

Harry sighed and took up a fighting stance facing her. Greengrass wasn't malicious, but she could never read the room. He had never seen her actually talkig with anybody (not even Tracy, who was glued to her side most of the day), but then out of the blue she would say something to him, as if they were best friends. And then go back to ignoring him (along with everybody else). 'That's another one that I don't understand how she was sorted into Slytherin.'

Unsurprisingly, many students had lost some skills over the summer. Harry had made a point of practicing every day while he was staying at the Weasleys and Ginny had joined him for a spar several times. Therefore it was no surprise that both were among the best in the group. What was surprising was that the wallflower Daphne had also improved significantly.

"Dursely, Greengrass and.. Weasley," Snape paused and said the last name with his trademark sneer. "You appear to have the drill down." He grudgingly admitted. "Try expanding on it – on the attack, vary your spells, and try transitioning from spell to spell, so that you cast faster. And on the defense, try dodging instead of blocking." As Snape turned to assist the others, he added, "Just don't come running to me if you manage to injure each other."

"What's his problem?" Whispered Ginny, "Why does he hate me so much?"

"He doesn't hate you. That was his happy sneer, not his angry sneer," Harry corrected.

"What?" Ginny glanced at Daphne for confirmation, and the quiet girl nodded. "But it looks the same as all of his other expressions."

"And that is why you are not in Slytherin," Daphne smirked haughtily.

"Oh, you want some of this?" Ginny took up a dueling pose and waited for Daphne to get ready before opening up with a stream of hexes.

The trio took turns sparring with each other, with the third observing and critiquing.

Here, Harry's extra research came to the fore, as he had a much broader range of spells than the other two. Some of them were a little too advanced for him and didn't come off right when he cast them, but his opponents never knew what to expect, forcing them to shield whenever they didn't recognize his spell. After the third time it happened, Ginny got so frustrated she saturated him with Bat Bogey hexes. She still ended up getting knocked out of the dueling ring by his mini-twister, but Harry had to run to the bathroom and flush his face with water afterwards. Even Daphne cracked a smile.

"That was.. adequate" Snape had his happy sneer on. "Until the classes get into full swing and the grading gets too heavy, I will help with the club." It sounded like he was making an excuse for enjoying teaching the club.

"Professor," Harry asked, "Can we go over the Patronus spell?"

"We might as well. It is a fascinating spell that touches upon the mind arts, as you need to control your emotions to cast it." He began lecturing before he caught himself and eyed Ginny suspiciously, like she might snitch to the other Houses that he could actually teach. "The spell is Expecto Patronum. You need to be in a happy state. Practice it on you own!" He stalked off in swirl of his cloak-like robes.

About half the club stayed behind to practice the charm. On the third try, Ginny was able to produce a fine golden mist, but that was the only success in the group, and even Ginny couldn't replicate it.

Harry grew increasingly frustrated as he got no results. He was used to being one of the best in the club, but a little second year had him beat!

Watching his continued failures Ginny smirked, adding, "You Slytherins just can't relax enough. You need to stop worrying and planning and just feel the happiness."

"Thanks," Harry nodded, before grudgingly adding, "you did pretty good during the dueling." It hurt to admit it, but fair was fair. She gave him a pointer, so he had to reciprocate with something positive.

"Thanks," Ginny replied with cautious surprise. This was Harry, but when they were at school, he was still a Slytherin, and they weren't knowing for publicly praising Gryffindors.

"Don't take this the wrong way – I'm glad to have more members, especially non Slytherins, but why are you here? I would have taken you more for a Quidditch girl." The Weasleys were all crazy for the sport.

Ginny eyes him for a moment before grudgingly admitting, "I want to be an Auror when I graduate." When Harry just nodded like this was the most normal thing in the world, and didn't say a word about the Aurors being no place for girls, she added: "Can you keep a secret?" At Harry's nod she continued, "Everybody knows that Harry Potter has disappeared from the wizarding world. Nobody know where he is, or if he is still alive. Maybe he was kidnapped, maybe he was killed. But I am going to be the one to find out what happened to him!"

Harry nodded with his best serious expression, "Good luck with that."

Ginny sighed in frustration, "I knew you wouldn't understand." But at least he didn't tease her about wanting to be an Auror, the way Ron did.

*UHD*

The next weekend was Hogsmead Weekend. Thankfully, Petunia had agreed to sign his permission slip (in exchange for Harry cooking dinner everyday in August), so he was able to go.

Harry rode down to the village in a carriage with Adrian Pucey. The two of them got along well enough, though they weren't close friends, but that was the norm for Slytherins. Unfortunately, once they got to the village Adrian wanted to spend all of his time looking at racing brooms. Harry hung out with him for a little while, chatting about the various display models in the quidditch shop but since he wasn't on the quidditch team he eventually got bored and headed off on his own.

Harry wasn't certain what he wanted to do next (and honestly, going around by himself didn't sound like so much fun), but he had earned the right, so therefore he was going to make use of it (Otherwise all that cooking would have been a waste). He started out at the candy shop - Honeydukes. The store was crowded with younger students and he had to push and shove his way in to get to the front. Once at the counter, he loaded up on chocolates of all different kinds. He wasn't planning on eating all of it, but he figured he could trade some of it for favors after his more impetuous classmates (ie Ron) finished theirs. As he was leaving, he saw the afore mentioned Gryffindor approaching, tentatively holding hands with Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes and smirked, turning to head in the opposite direction. 'Mission accomplished.' Now it was up to Ron to not screw up.

He stopped by the Three Broomsticks to grab a sandwich before heading over to Scriveners, where he perused their small selection of books in the hopes of finding something interesting. All of the stores had clusters of other students clogging up the aisles (except in Scrivenrs, where they mostly stayed at the front, where the novelty quills and writing supplies were). But there wasn't anybody that Harry was friends with among them.

Not that he really had friends.

Feeling melancholy, Harry left and took a turn down a narrow alley that ran to a more residential part of the village. It was much emptier, and there was even a large black dog nosing through the garbage.

"Here, boy," Harry crouched down and pulled out the remainder of his sandwich (the portions at the Three Broomsticks were quite generous, and he hadn't really been hungry). The dog looked at him with an odd tilt to its head before approaching him. As he held out the food, it carefully took it and wolfed it down before approaching him and licking his hand. "Sorry, boy," Harry glanced at the dog's rear, to confirm that he had the gender correct, "I don't have any more." He tentatively reached out to pet the dog's head. After a moment, the dog turned and ran off at full speed, heading for a dilapidated house at the outskirts of the village.

"Huh. I guess it does have an owner."

Harry turned back to head for the castle. He decided to walk, as it was a nice day and that way it wouldn't be a complete waste of an outing. He figured that once he got back, he could split the afternoon between reading in the library and working on the Patronus. Because there was no way that he was going to let some second year Griffendork girl beat him at DADA.

Not that he would ever say that out loud, for so many (conflicting) reasons.

*UHD*

"Harry! We were looking all over for you!" Pucey ran into the library. It's almost curfew and Harry had gotten sucked into the book he was reading – 'Untraditional traditions: Using Magical Creatures in Defense'. It was very well written, though most of what the author recommended was completely impractical unless you had a castle to defend.

"What's up? Did I miss dinner?" Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he had. Again.

And he hadn't gotten around to practicing the Patronus.

"Yes, you missed dinner. And somebody attacked the portrait leading to the Gryffindor dorms – they think it might be Sirius Black!"

Harry rolled his eyes. Given the lack of common sense your typical wizard portrayed, their wild guesses didn't mean much. "So what's this got to do with us? We're Slytherins."

"Yeah, but Dumbledore decided that for safety, all of the students will sleep in the Great Hall tonight."

"All four houses? We'll be sleeping on top of each other!" It would be the sleep-over from hell!

"Err.." Pucey colored before shaking his head, "Never mind, I've been listening to Draco too much. No, they are expanding it to fit everybody easily."

When Harry got to the Hall, it was like a pajama party on a massive scale. Not that Harry had ever been to any pajama parties as a child (or to any parties. The Dursleys were strict and unloving parents), but he knew what to expect. He was therefore somewhat surprised how well the professors managed to reign in the chaos.

"Everybody, please prepare for bed. We will search the castle from top to bottom while you sleep and we will find Sirius Black, if it is indeed him." Minerva McGonagall pronounced. She spoke with calm authority, which helped ease the anxiety of many of the students. Nevertheless some of the first years still looked visibly nervous, especially among the Gryffindors. "Everybody, please stay in the area that you are assigned." McGonagall pointed out the marked off spaces.

Harry saw that the third year Slytherins were in a cluster at the end of a row of other Slytherin boys. As he sat down on a sleeping bag and waited for his turn to use the bathroom to brush his teeth, he glanced at the other students around him. To one side of them were the second year Slytherin boys, and on the other was a clear path to walk to the bathrooms, and on the other side of that were the Slytherin girls. They were chatting animatedly, and some were casting nervous glances at the boys, while others just looking nervous in general.

As the Slytherins all finally settled into their spots in their conjured sleeping bags, Snape strode in, speaking just loudly enough so that the Slytherin boys could hear him, "I do not want any of you leaving your spot except to go to the bathroom. I have set alarm wards around the entire hall, set to go off if any of the boys enters the girls area, and I will be sorely disappointed if one of you triggers them". After giving the boys an intimidating glower he storms off in a swirl of his robes.

"He has to have a special charm for that," Theo muttered admiringly.

"Duh. It's called Raven's Wing. It makes any cloth ripple." Harry muttered as he snuggled into his bed.

"Where did you learn that." Goyle asked incredulously.

"Library. It's amazing what you can learn if you can read."

Even Draco snorted in amusement at that.

As the lights dimmed for sleep, leaving just a faint glow coming from the marked walkways, Harry heared Zambini whisper, "The girls are just 10 feet that way, and all the teachers are out searching. I bet I could counter the alarm ward."

"Why, who do you plan to sneak over and visit?" Pucey whispered.

"Well..." Zambini prevaricated.

"I know who I would go 'visit'. Pansy's hot for me." Draco announced, a little too loudly.

"Shh! Go to sleep!" One of the Slytherin prefects hissed.

Zambini waited for the prefect to roll over before continuing in a whisper, "Who says it has to be a Slytherin girl? I am in high demand."

Harry rolled over and put a pillow over his head. He wasn't interested in Zambini and Malfoy arguing who was more popular with the girls. Harry knew that whoever came in first, it wouldn't be him.

*UHD*

Harry woke up in the middle of the night because his arm was stuck under something. As he came more fully awake, he realized that it was because somebody had rolled out of their spot and over onto his sleeping bag. And he also realized that he needed to go to the jakes.

Whoever it was, they were draped halfway across him, trapping his arm under them. He pushed the wanker off and staggered down to the bathroom. He was still half asleep, so it was only when he sat down that he realized that the person hadn't been in a sleeping bag. And that they had had long hair.

Harry started awake. He quickly washed his hands and rushed back to see who it was that he had been snuggled up to in his sleep, but his area was empty, as it should be. After he lay down, he felt around – was it his imagination, or was there a warm spot off to one side. And the corner of his pillow had a floral scent.

'I'll figure this out tomorrow morning'.

Despite his attempt to pass the incident off as nothing important, it took him a very long time to fall back asleep.

---

END

Any guesses?

Also, any other comments / reviews are also welcome. If I know people are reading my story, it motivates me to write more.