Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

"Thank you all for attending and once more putting up with my selfish demands to hide your identity by means of voice alteration charms and a Transfigured mask. As I'm sure you still understand though, secrecy is fundamental in ensuring that we remain a success."

"Hey, it's all good. Don't worry about it."

"At least it helps with some pretty complicated spell casting."

"Alright then, firstly I hope everybody had a wonderful Christmas and all that regardless of whether you stayed behind or went home and spent time with your family. Now, onto business, already a week has come to pass since term began and already whispers are starting to spread that Potter Club has either given up, was caught, or otherwise."

"Well that's because everybody was expecting us to do something straight up."

"Exactly."

"Kinda sly by staying under the radar."

"Don't worry, the people in charge know we're still at large."

"How?"

"I sent Dumbledore a present on our behalf."

"No way."

"You're shitting me right?"

"I promise you all, he enjoyed and hated our gift at the same time."

"What did you send him? This is The Dumbledore remember. Please don't tell me you sent him something for stupid?"

"I sent him socks."

"Hehe, no way."

"Not a history book or something related to alchemy?"

"Nope."

"I hate you."

"And I love you too."

"Mate, I've gotta say, that's pretty crazy."

"What if he tracks you down?"

"Hope not but still, we'll find out soon. Speaking of something similar, does anybody know Professor McGonagall's birthday?"

"I can probably find out, why?"

"I want to send her a ball of yarn that smells of catnip."

"Hahaha."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Does all their sniggering convince you that I'm not?"

"Hmph."

"Alright, now for the last chunk of the term there are two pranks I have planned and unlike the previous ones, I will have nothing to do with these but guidance and teaching, the timing, the position, all of that will be on you guys."

"...Are you sure?"

"Wicked!"

"Well so long as you do your homework, here, take one and pass along."

"What is this?"

"These look...odd?"

"Are they some kind of rune?"

"No but we're going to be using these as practise for when we're ready to craft some runes. Before you say that you haven't contemplated taking Runes as an elective or skipped it altogether, don't worry, we're going to be skipping the theory and getting right into the practise."

"That still doesn't explain what these are?"

"They're Japanese calligraphy, Kanji to be precise."

"Kanji? Is it some kind of Japanese rune?"

"Actually, those seven in front of you are the days of the week."

"You mean that each one of these is Monday through to Sunday?"

"Yep."

"Seems awfully complicated."

"What are all these steps on the bottom of each page?"

"It's the correct stroke order and direction."

"Wait so all these lines have to be done in a certain order?"

"Just like actual runes. I could bore you with the reasoning why but instead I'll tell you this. Every day you'll write out each Kanji twenty times for the next fortnight where I will give you a set of even more complicated Kanji to work on. All of this is practise for when you install the runes for you to complete your prank. Any questions?"

"How long do we have?"

"Until you feel confident, thankfully with these Kanji you'll be able to pick up pretty quickly when something isn't quite the way it's meant to be. In this case however nothing will happen. When inscribing runes however an uneven line can have devastating effects. For example, had I screwed up a couple of lines under the Slytherin table, hypothetically speaking instead of a rainbow appearing I may have turned all those sitting down into rabbits or spiralling into a pit with no end and no hope of rescue. There is a reason why runes are some of the most dangerous magical creations out there."

"So...practice?"

"Practice."

...

"Mister Potter," said the Head of Gryffindor, garnering Harry's attention from the otherwise 'riveting' chess game he was currently indulged in. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you."

"Ah, okay," said Harry standing up from the board.

"We'll just finish the game when you get back," said Ron, mildly annoyed by the fact the brutal battle of wits had momentarily come to a halt.

"No need, Hermione tag in," said Harry over his shoulder as he begun to follow Professor McGonagall.

"Wait, what?" said Hermione in confusion as she rose from her schoolwork (she dare not do extra curricular study in the common room of all places).

"I've got three sickles and five knuts riding on this game Hermione, don't let me down," said Harry as he exited the common room.

"I hope you were merely joking about the gambling, Mister Potter," said Minerva sternly.

"As smart as Hermione is, Professor, she is bullocks at chess, not that chess necessary reflects the intellect of the player," said Harry. "Honestly I wouldn't trust her to finish the game with my money on the line."

"Very well," said Minerva as they came to the enchanted stairwell and discovered that they would have to wait for the next set of stairs to come past in order to continue. "I take it your studies are going well."

"I'm doing about as well as I could be," said Harry, outright lying to Minerva. The latest paper he had given to her had been awarded a better than average grade only because he hadn't bothered to go all out with his knowledge, more for his own safety than anything. Last thing he wanted was to be explaining how he had come about a word or a spell that was beyond the current curriculum or intellect he was expected to have.

"I trust then that you will do us proud in the coming Quidditch game?" asked the professor. "While disappointing against the Slytherin team I predict you'll be able to bounce back and show everybody what you are capable of."

"So...Wronski Feint?"

"Without endangering your life if at all possible, where have you even heard of such a reckless maneuver?" asked McGonagall as the stairwell swung into view, connecting into place with a resounding thud.

"Put it this way, if History of Magic featured a section about Quidditch, Ron would be getting straight 'O''s," said Harry as they resumed their journey.

"Have you thought much about your future after leaving Hogwarts?" asked Minerva changing topics.

"I don't believe that I know enough of the magical world at this point to know what possible," retorted Harry.

"I believe you do," stated Professor McGonagall. "Not only from the drivel of an article that was in the paper but word is already starting to spread of how you verbally attacked the Minister of Magic by bringing up topics he wasn't aware you, or anyone for that matter, was knowledgeable of."

"Who..."

"Before you start making accusations just know that the halls in the Ministry of Magic echo something fantastic," said Minerva, answering Harry's unspoken question. As they turned the final corner Harry found himself looking at the proud statue standing guard in front of Dumbledore's office. Reaching the stone gargoyle, Minerva turned to Harry. "I'm not sure what you plan on doing in the future Harry but the last thing I want to do is go to another funeral for one of my students taken well before their time. If you tread down the path I believe you will, please, tread carefully. The password is Honeycomb Whizz."

Harry could only watch on silently as his Head of House marched away. Exhaling deeply, he ran his fingers through his hair with the realization now that there was still a chance that he could fail, that somehow everything could just be pulled out from under the rug and destroy all his hopes for the future. There was a freaking Horcrux sitting in the Room of Requirement and he hadn't even visited the room yet!

Taking in a deep breath, Harry composed himself as he realized at this moment there was still nothing he could do. Even if he were to go and collect the Horcrux he couldn't just waltz up to Dumbledore and say that it was keeping Voldemort alive. He had nothing of his own that could destroy it and Merlin forbid he do something stupid like Malfoy's goons and cast a spell he had no control over.

Shaking his head from side to side, Harry stepped up to the gargoyle and repeated the password Professor McGonagall had told him moments before. With the guardian moving to the side, Harry ascended the spiral stairwell to where Dumbledore's office was located. The brief few moments aboard the stairs however had given enough time to push all drastic thoughts of the future to the side to focus solely on the the present.

"Harry my boy, please come closer, don't be shy," said Dumbledore, ushering Harry closer to where he sat behind his desk. Trying to feign the excitement and nerves of an eleven year old, Harry walked up to where the Headmaster sat, briefly glancing over at both the Sorting Hat on the shelf and Fawkes the phoenix, perched upon its stand.

"Am I in trouble, sir?" asked Harry as he came to a stop.

"Hardly," scoffed the Hat from his place atop the shelves.

"Is there something you're not telling us, Harry, that would get you in trouble?" asked Dumbledore, lacing his fingers under his chin.

'If only you knew,' thought Harry. "No sir, I merely asked why I was here," said Harry innocently.

"You are here because I have something that belongs to you," said Dumbledore as he stood from his chair. "If you will give me a moment to retrieve it from my study. Feel free to browse around but I beg of you not to touch anything."

Harry said nothing as he turned from his stool and headed towards the stairs that lead to his private quarters. When the door closed, Harry turned his attention to the raggedy ol' hat that judged the qualities of all the students who walked through the halls for the first time.

"Talk."

"I don't know what you're inquiring about, Mister Potter," said the Sorting Hat. "At this moment in time there is nothing I could disclose to you in this office other than I will reiterate what I've said before; you would have done well in Slytherin."

This ended with the hat shuffling a bit and doing something reminiscent of a wink in Harry's direction. Harry, while mildly confused, understood that while the hat wanted to say something it couldn't for some reason. Exhaling a sigh of annoyance, Harry took the opportunity to browse the belongings of the Headmaster. Many of the items he had no clue of their origin or their purpose, essentially meaning that Albus likely had a mild fortune just casually sitting atop his desk.

"This belongs to you, as it did your father before you and his father before him," said Albus as he gracefully laid the cloak on the desk gently.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, tempted to ask why the Professor had his hereditary cloak but decided against it. Last thing he wanted was to start giving out too much information.

"I will inform you that your father got into quite some trouble with that cloak but I trust you'll use it better than he did," said Dumbledore.

"Trouble, sir?"

"You'll find out soon enough what that cloak is capable of, for now though I ask that you return to your assignments as there are other matters I must attend to."

"By all means, sir," said Harry as he grabbed hold of his cloak and tossed it over his shoulders before cheekily smiling at Dumbledore as he completely covered himself and vanished from view. Underneath the protection of the cloak he pulled out his wand and cast a spell to muffle the sounds of his footsteps as he watched Albus' eyes widen momentarily in shock as he tried to process how Harry knew exactly what to do.

As he left the office, Harry knew that with his family's heirloom safely within his care once more that there were jobs to be done.

...

Susan really did try her best to study during History of Magic, she really did. Perhaps if the teacher wasn't dead, or if the subject was on something more recent than the Goblin Rebellions of the 16th Century. Maybe it was just the monotonous melodramatic way in which Professor Binns spoke but no matter what the reason there was no denying the fact that it was just soooooooo dull.

Next to her her best friend had already decided to spend the lesson catching up on her beauty sleep, though the trail of drool dangling from her lip was not beautiful in the slightest. Hannah Abbott wasn't the only one deciding to catch up on sleep, a good portion of the rest of the class had their heads down or were spending the time researching other subjects.

Ensuring that nobody was watching on either side of her, Susan dipped her quill into her ink bottle and began to do her extra curricular work, etching completely unrecognizable symbols to anyone but those she met with in secret. It was nearing the end of the second week when she had been given the Japanese symbols and she had understood what was required of her if this Kanji was anything to go by. Every stroke of the quill was purposeful and melodic, soothing in its formula. At first she had found it aggravating how every stroke had to be done in a specific order, with her artistic ability she was more intune with going with the flow, allowing her quill to lead her to the next part of her image.

By roughly the forty seventh time she had constructed the Kanji for Thursday she found that she was actually starting to enjoy the very strict form of creativity, as much of a confusing statement as that was. Almost by the time she finished her first parchment of Kanji through the lesson, all attention snapped forward as something exploded like a firework, sending dazzling colours of blue, red, green and yellow across the classroom.

Screams of shock and awe erupted from those who were conscious both before and after the mild explosion of light and sound. Professor Binns, who looked a single shade paler than usual, felt the immediate need to dismiss everyone making all the students assume that he thought that was the signal for the class to end.

Packing her belongings into her bag, Susan paused momentarily as she found that there was already parchment amongst her gear that didn't belong to her. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she took a gander at what had mysteriously entered her bag to find ten pieces of parchment, each one containing a different Kanji she had never seen before.

"How?" she said softly before realizing the simple answer to her question.

It was Potter Club.

...

"Harry, can I ask you a question?" asked Hermione as she and Harry sat at their favorite table tucked away in the corner of the library.

"Sure, what's up?" asked Harry looking up from his work.

"Well, I've been meaning to ask...you see the thing is..."

"Yes?"

"Just how are the members of Potter Club meant to contact one another?" said Hermione finally figuring out the best way to phrase her question.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry as he put down his quill.

"Well you've given us all this Kanji to work on and the end of January's coming up, meaning there's only a handful of months before the end of the term. You've asked us to take the Runes you've gathered and use it to form not one but two pranks of a large scale before we all have to go home. But you never organized a time for us to meet or a place for us to organize where we need to go in order to arrange when we're going to do this prank," said Hermione.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," said Harry.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"I've given you guys all the tools that you need in order to get in contact with each other," said Harry who paused momentarily before sighing as he looked at the confused look on Hermione's face. "What was the first set of Kanji I gave you?"

"The days of the week," answered Hermione.

"And the next set?"

"The numbers one to ten."

"Now this set here is a touch more on the complicated side," said Harry, indicating the Kanji in front of him that he was writing up. "This set indicates our classes; Potions, Charms etc. Now, when you have all three available, what can you do?"

"So you've given us days, numbers and for the better part...location," said Hermione coming to an understanding. "You're a genius, Harry."

"So you've got to figure out how best to convey those Kanji you know for all to see and only a few will understand," said Harry as he picked up his quill once more and resumed his work. "Meanwhile there's something else you should be worried about coming round the corner."

"What?"

"Valentine's Day is next week," said Harry with his eyes glued to his work. "Reckon you're going to be fighting off the boys with your stunning good looks."

"Harry," squealed Hermione as she began to blush violently, Harry happily laughing away and dodging whatever Hermione could get her hands on and throw his way.

...

"Hey mate, can I get your advice on something?" asked Ron as he and Harry walked towards the Gryffindor common room, classes having finished for the day.

"Sure what's up?"

"Well, it's Lavender," said Ron in a hushed whisper as if afraid somebody in the empty corridor would hear him.

"What about her?"

"Well, the thing is she's not talking to me," said Ron coming to a stop.

"Since when has Lavender ever talked to you?" asked Harry looking at his friend.

"Well...never I guess..."

Resisting the urge to hit Ron over the back of the head, Harry wondered what had gotten into the youngest Weasley at the school. "So what's different from her not talking to you at the beginning of the year to not talking to you now?"

"Well, you know about the...'incident.'" said Ron making quotation marks with his fingers as if it would help Harry understand what incident Ron was talking about. Once more Harry fought the urge to smack him over the head.

"I was there, Ron."

"Well, the difference is that, now she kind of, I'm not sure, watches me, I guess?" said Ron completely unsure of himself.

"Watches you like how?"

"From around corners, down the dinner table, heck she's hiding behind a pillar down the corridor now!" Blinking a couple of times, Harry leaned over slightly to look down the way from which they had come only to see someone for a fraction of a second before they vanished. "What does it mean Harry?"

"Lavender Brown is stalking Ron...bit early for that," said Harry softly, Ron only just being able to hear what he said.

"Early, what do you mean by that?" asked Ron, surprising Harry that the red haired boy hadn't focused on the more pressing matter which was the whole stalker thing.

"I believe your attempt at diving up her skirt has made Miss Brown unsure of herself and her body much more early than many young women," answered Harry, somewhat lying but at the same time telling the truth. "Now, have you apologized to Lavender about what you did to her?"

"But it wasn't my fault? Why should I apologize?"

Harry didn't bother to fight the urge this time as he lightly smacked Ron across the head earning a satisfying yelp of pain. "Have you ever thought that perhaps, while it isn't your fault, Lavender may think that it was and as such, would like to hear you say that you're sorry."

"But why?"

Placing a hand on Ron's shoulder, Harry looked deep into Ron's eyes. "Trust me on this one mate, and now's as good a time as any." With his final message having been sent, Harry turned and returned on his journey towards the common room. Whether or not Ron would follow up on his suggestion would likely be discovered in the very near future if the romantic holiday that was Valentine's Day was anything to go by.

...

Hermione trod down the stairs with a mild spring in her step having just visited the Owlery to send off her Valentine's gifts. Unlike the letters that most owls would be delivering these ones were written in code, or more specifically Kanji. Thankfully because of the nature of the day it was a given that owls would be delivering letters and gifts throughout the day so nobody would be any wiser when someone across from them found themselves face to face with a letter dropping in front of them.

Entering the Great Hall, Hermione glanced to the side to see Susan Bones sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table, an open piece of parchment in her hand and a concentrating look upon her face. The message that Hermione had sent was pretty basic mostly for the fact that none of them truly knew how to form a coherent sentence but rather just random symbols. 'Monday, 8, Charms Room,' had been the simplistic message she had sent and she hoped that nobody went to the classroom at eight in the morning. All of their meetings thus far had been during the evenings sop she saw no reason why anybody would misinterpret this.

Taking her seat at the Gryffindor table, Hermione started assembling herself some breakfast, doing her best to ignore the heart shaped pieces of toast laid out in front of her. Her musings however were shattered when an owl landed in front of her, a message tied to it's leg and a parcel dangling from a bit of string clasped in it's beak. For several moments Hermione did nothing but stare at the owl, completely unsure of what had just happened. Slowly she removed the message tied to the owl's leg, the feathered creature depositing the package and taking off a moment later. Unrolling the parchment she read a message almost simpler than the one she had sent out earlier.

Happy Valentine's Hermione.

Hermione froze, completely unsure of the situation she now found herself in. Her mind which usually raced away had now shutdown. "Are you alright Hermione?" asked someone from nearby but when they failed to get a response, they waved their hand in front of her face to no effect. Clicking of the fingers also failed to gain a response before they sighed. "I'm sorry for this."

"Ow!" said Hermione as she rubbed at her recently pinched shoulder before looking up at the culprit. "Why'd you do that Parvati?"

The Indian girl smiled as she sat down beside Hermione, once again surprising the young Gryffindor somewhat. Despite having lived together since the beginning of the school year the two of them hadn't spoken much for anything other than something related to schoolwork. "You mouth was open and you looked as if you'd just discovered a new spell, I had to get your attention somehow."

"Thanks, I guess..." said Hermione as she focused her attention once more on the small piece of parchment in her hand.

"So, you've got yourself a secret admirer," teased Parvati.

"What, no, of course not," dismissed Hermione, her cheeks starting to turn red.

"Right, because everyone here is getting gifts sent to them by people who are no more than friends," said Parvati sarcastically as she scooched closer. "C'mon, what'd they send you?"

With unsteady hands, Hermione grasped the package and slowly opened it up to reveal several items consisting of a copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' a small collection of potions and a smaller box which she opened up to reveal a set of diamond earrings. "My gosh..."

"Well whoever they are, they sure know how to treat a lady," said Parvati as she picked up one of the potions and looked at the label. "Looks like these are similar to scented candles, just open them up and you can make our room smell amazing."

"This...this is a third edition copy!" said Hermione in disbelief as she looked at the publication date of the Jane Austen novel.

"And of course she focuses on the book first," said Parvati haphazardly. "Face it Hermione, someone's got a crush on you."

Those words caused Hermione's brain to shut down once more causing young Miss Patil to giggle before attempting to bring the bushy haired witch back to the world of the living.