Author's Note

This chapter seemed a little slow during my editing rereads. I'll post chapter 40 today as well to make up for it.

Harry settled into the booth at the Three Broomsticks, absently tracing the wood grain on the table as he reflected on the past few weeks. It had been relatively uneventful—frustratingly so, in fact. Despite Fred and George's suspicions, they still hadn't managed to catch Ginny with the diary. Their latest attempt to sneak into the Gryffindor girls' dormitories to search for the diary had resulted in a fierce backlash. Now they were persona non grata with nearly all the females in their House, making it all the more challenging to keep an eye on their sister.

Dobby, meanwhile, had managed to stay out of sight, with no further signs of Tivvy. Harry hoped that Tivvy had given up or been called back, but Dobby still checked in regularly, just in case. Snape and Draco, on the other hand, had been a consistent presence, attempting to tail him at various times. They tried to be subtle about it, but with shadow-walking, his Invisibility Cloak, and Dobby's ability to pop him around the castle, Harry had no difficulty staying well ahead of them.

Just this morning, he and Dobby had orchestrated an elaborate misdirection, leading both of his pursuers on a chase into the Forbidden Forest. He'd had Dobby pop him just ahead of them each time, leading to the satisfying moment when Snape and Draco had nearly collided deep among the trees. He and Dobby had watched from the shadows, struggling to keep their laughter silent, before finally leaving them to argue among themselves.

Now, with his tails thoroughly occupied, Dobby had popped him into Hogsmeade for his real objective of the day. The first Hogsmeade weekend was in full swing, and he had arranged a meeting with Penelope Clearwater and Robert Hilliard, both sixth-year Ravenclaw prefects, as well as Percy Weasley, Gryffindor's sixth-year prefect.

He'd managed to secure a private booth at the Three Broomsticks, thanks to Dobby's assistance with a note requesting a reservation days in advance. He'd sent the updated meeting location by Hedwig ensuring each prefect knew exactly where to find him. Harry could have approached them in the halls, but felt it was better to keep things more formal, to signify his maturity. After all, he wanted them to see him as a future leader, and these were top students four years his elder.

With a quick Tempus Charm, Harry checked the time: still a few minutes before Robert's arrival. The booth was tucked into a cozy corner of the pub, offering a degree of privacy that Harry hoped would put his guests at ease. He adjusted his posture, leaning back against the cushioned seat and letting the warmth of the cozy pub soak in, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming conversations. Each of these prefects had passed his little test, agreeing to meet him here despite it being against school rules for a second-year to visit Hogsmeade.

—

Harry settled back in the booth, hands folded loosely in front of him, his expression polite but unreadable as Robert took his seat. He offered a nod of greeting, letting the silence settle between them for a moment. Robert met his gaze calmly, as if assessing Harry with a similar measure.

"Robert, thanks for meeting with me here," Harry began casually, a hint of warmth in his tone but nothing too familiar. "I was curious about your thoughts on Hogwarts this year… sixth year, quite the workload, I imagine?"

Robert laughed, raising an eyebrow at Harry. "You sound like my father trying to make small talk with me after term ends. You never have any fun, do you?"

Harry was momentarily thrown off balance. "I wasn't really around any other children, while I was growing up. I sometimes find it hard to adapt, as I'm used to conversing with wizards decades my elder."

The older student's smile faded as he considered the reasons behind Harry's unique upbringing. Harry took advantage of the pause to retake control of the conversation. "I'll be more direct, then. I do not wish to remind you of your father. What do you plan to pursue after Hogwarts?"

Robert gave a small smirk, as if catching Harry's drift. "Curse-Breaking has held my interest. But there isn't much on it here at school. The study of it, especially as it applies in the real world, is hardly touched. So, yes, I suppose that's been challenging—if only in how much they don't teach."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly in interest, though he kept his response neutral. "Curse-Breaking—interesting field. I've read into the subject a fair amount, myself—though as you say, there's not much in the library here."

Robert nodded, his posture relaxing a touch. "It's the puzzle of it that I find exciting, the unknown magic layered over generations. You need to understand the ancient and the arcane to dismantle a curse properly. There's no single formula to it." He shrugged, glancing at Harry. "Not something most people would think worth the risk, but for me, it's exactly the challenge I want."

"Understandable," Harry replied smoothly, as though this was new information to him. "And what about after Hogwarts? You'll be looking to the Curse-Breakers' Guild, I assume?"

Robert's eyes gleamed briefly with interest, though his response was measured. "That's the hope. But it's a competitive field. Not many are willing to teach the true, advanced methods—it's not exactly Ministry-regulated."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, letting a small pause fall between them. "You know, one of my tutors before Hogwarts was a Curse-Breaker. Not a field I'll pretend to fully understand, but… I've picked up a thing or two over the years." He kept his expression neutral, as though it were merely an offhand comment, but he watched Robert carefully.

Robert's interest sharpened, though his tone remained controlled. "Is that so? Curse-Breakers are a rare breed. Not many are willing to teach their methods."

Harry gave a small nod, as if conceding the point. "True enough. But if you're ever looking for a fresh perspective or just want to discuss it, I'd be happy to chat. I've got a decent sense of the basics."

Robert considered this, and Harry could see the wheels turning. "I may take you up on that, Harry," he replied. His tone was still measured, but there was a hint of intrigue in his expression. "Curse-Breaking isn't something that comes up in conversation often, and it sounds like you have an unusual background."

Harry gave a slight smile. "I like to think it's been educational. By the way," he began, his tone more casual, "I've been meaning to ask if you've noticed the same thing I've seen with the first-year Ravenclaws. I've had a few conversations with Luna Lovegood—brilliant, that one. I'm hoping to bring her into our group at some point—the way she sees things is unique, but I think it could add a lot of value. But… she's been having a hard time with some of the other girls."

Robert's expression shifted slightly, his gaze sharpening as he picked up on the direction of Harry's words. "I've noticed," he admitted, though his tone was careful. "Luna's… unconventional, and that doesn't sit well with everyone."

Harry gave a small nod. "Yes, and I think some of them are letting that dislike get a little out of hand. "

Robert's eyes narrowed in thought. "I see. And you're concerned about how the other first-years are treating her."

Harry leaned forward slightly, keeping his tone light but purposeful. "Precisely. Dislike is one thing, but harassment? That's another matter entirely. I'd appreciate it if you could keep an eye on her. Just a gentle nudge if things start to cross a line. You're in a better position for that."

Robert nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Of course. I can do that." There was a flicker of approval in his gaze. "I hadn't thought about inviting her, but it makes sense. She could add… a different perspective."

Harry tipped his head, giving him a faint smile. "I appreciate it, Robert."

—

Penelope was feeling the pressure this year. NEWTs were still a year away, but her schedule was already packed with advanced material, and it felt like the workload from her OWLs had been just a warm-up. The extra study sessions she'd penciled into every open slot of her timetable weren't even enough some weeks. And, then there were the others. Percy, for one—he was always around, somehow managing to bring out equal parts of admiration and frustration in her. She couldn't deny she felt something for him, and she had a sneaking suspicion he might feel the same. But how did he manage to make everything feel like a contest?

Robert, on the other hand, was different. He rarely offered an opinion unless it was directly asked, and there was a calming simplicity in that. She liked Robert for his quiet competence, but there wasn't much more there to think about.

Then there was Harry.

At first, Penelope hadn't known what to make of the nim. He was undeniably brilliant and mysteriously mature for a second-year, carrying himself more like a professor than a younger student. She'd been surprised when he'd first suggested creating a private society for gifted students, yet here she was, still intrigued by the idea weeks later. Harry's thoughts on building a place for open, unfiltered discussions on advanced magic resonated with her own frustrations about Hogwarts' limitations, especially regarding magical Healing.

She found herself both drawn to and wary of him. Harry seemed to have an uncanny ability to draw people in without actually revealing much about himself, which left her wondering what his real motivations might be. Did he have a hidden agenda, or was he genuinely interested in expanding their collective knowledge? For someone so young, he was a puzzle—a puzzle she found herself increasingly wanting to solve.

Penelope stepped into the warm, bustling atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks, grateful for the quick break from her books. The lively chatter around her was a welcome change from the quiet intensity of her study sessions, and she relaxed slightly, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as she scanned the room.

Madame Rosmerta caught her eye and waved her over, a friendly smile brightening her face. "Miss Clearwater! He's already waiting for you—back there," she said, nodding toward a secluded booth tucked in the far corner of the pub.

Penelope nodded her thanks and made her way to the back, threading through the tables and dodging a pair of third-years sharing an enormous cauldron cake. She finally spotted Harry, seated with an ease that belied his age, his gaze steady as he watched her approach. He gave her a polite nod, gesturing for her to take the seat across from him.

"Penelope," he greeted her, his tone warm but composed. "Thanks for meeting with me. How's the year been treating you so far?"

She took a deep breath as she set her bag down, repressing a chuckle. Harry always acted like such an old man, with diction that sounded more like her grandfather, a university professor emeritus, than how the other boys at school spoke. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was only twelve years old.

"Honestly?" she began, a bit of a wry smile tugging at her lips. "It's been… well, challenging, to say the least. And that's putting it mildly."

Harry's expression remained calm, his focus unwavering. "I can imagine. NEWTs are a monumental effort, from what I hear."

"Oh, they're every bit as bad as they say," she replied, her frustration slipping into her tone. "Last year's OWLs were intense, but this year? It's as if they expect us to absorb an entire career's worth of information. And it's not just memorizing spells or potions recipes—no, they want theory, mastery, application." She sighed, leaning back a bit as she felt herself venting more than intended.

Harry listened intently, nodding as though absorbing every word. "That does sound… exhausting," he said, a faint note of empathy in his tone.

"Yes, well… that's another thing," she admitted, feeling a slight flush as she continued. "I have a lot of ideas—maybe more than the standard curriculum seems prepared for. I want to integrate Muggle medical practices with Healing magic. You'd think Hogwarts would encourage that sort of thing, but there are more roadblocks than I expected. Half the time, I feel like I'm working in a straightjacket."

She caught herself, surprised by how much she'd let slip. She hadn't meant to share quite so much with Harry, but he had a way of listening that made it feel natural to open up. She straightened, a bit self-conscious. "I'm sure that sounds foolish."

"Not at all," Harry replied smoothly, his expression thoughtful. "If anything, it sounds… groundbreaking. The intersection between Muggle and magical practices could open up entirely new avenues of Healing. It must be frustrating, having so many ideas with nowhere to explore them."

She glanced at him, a little surprised by his insight. Most students—even other Ravenclaws—were quick to dismiss her interest in Muggle medicine. But Harry spoke as though he truly understood.

"Yes, it is frustrating," she admitted, meeting his gaze. "Which is why I think your idea for a society—a place where we can explore advanced topics without restrictions—is fascinating. It could make all the difference for people like me."

Harry's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "That's exactly the point. For students like you, who want to go beyond what's expected, there should be a space where you're free to pursue what others might consider unconventional."

Penelope felt herself relax a little, realizing how much she wanted this, not only for herself but for others like her. For once, she didn't feel like she was the only one pushing against Hogwarts' limits.

"Thank you, Harry," she said quietly, meaning it. "This… this could be something truly important."

They chatted about the salon for a while, with Harry catching her up on the rules he'd been working on with some of the other second years. They were tentatively planning to have their first meeting before the winter holiday, where they'd all discuss and then vote on the rules as a group. Penelope was a little surprised how much she was anticipating it.

Before she left, Harry brought up Luna Lovegood's situation, which Penelope had already been keeping an eye on. She told Harry that there's only so much Prefects can do, they can't force students to be nice to each other. Harry said he understood, but there was a look in his eye that told Penelope he wasn't fully satisfied with her handling of the matter. She resolved to keep a closer eye on Luna from now on.

—

As Percy approached the booth in the Three Broomsticks, he saw Penelope just exiting. She looked up and smiled warmly when she noticed him, making him feel momentarily rooted to the spot.

"Oh, Percy! Hi," she said, her tone friendly, though her expression held the slightest trace of something… approving?

"Er—Penelope, yes, hi," he replied, fighting to keep his composure. "Fancy seeing you here."

She laughed lightly, which did nothing to ease his nerves. "Yes, well, it was a… good conversation. I'll see you around, Percy."

"Y-yes, see you around," he managed, watching her head out, then felt his face grow hot as he berated himself internally. Whenever she was around, his confidence seemed to evaporate, leaving him feeling like a first-year all over again. He forced a sigh and turned his attention to the matter at hand, taking a deep breath before joining Harry at the booth.

Harry looked up as Percy sat down, his expression composed yet welcoming. "Hello, Percy. I appreciate you coming," Harry greeted with a polite nod. "How's the year been treating you?"

Percy, eager to regain his footing, cleared his throat. "Oh, well, quite good, yes. You seem to have quite a bit going on yourself. For a second-year, you certainly seem to have your head set squarely on your shoulders." He nodded, thinking with some irritation of how much Ron could learn from this younger Potter.

Harry inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment without reacting much to it. "That's kind of you to say. I'm glad you think so." His gaze flickered with a hint of humor. "I hope Fred and George haven't been a nuisance—they tend to be… creative in their spare time. I do my best to keep them occupied, at least."

Percy exhaled a bit, allowing himself a small chuckle. "Yes, creative is one way to put it. They've caused their fair share of… chaos, as usual. Though I admit, it seems slightly less than normal lately. Perhaps they've been on better behavior because of you, then."

"Well," Harry said with a small smile, "I find chaos is best harnessed rather than fought. A ship sails with the wind, not against it."

Percy chuckled, noting with some relief that talking with Harry felt oddly… easy. He admired the way Harry managed his brothers and seemed to have a surprisingly thoughtful demeanor, considering his age. As the conversation continued, he couldn't help but feel he was speaking to an equal—a refreshing change from the usual mischief surrounding his younger siblings.

As the conversation continued, Percy found himself speaking more freely than he usually did—Harry's composed, almost unassuming manner made it easy. They touched on a variety of topics, drifting naturally from academics to his post-Hogwarts ambitions. Then Harry mentioned Penelope, noting in passing her interest in combining Muggle science with magical practices.

That hit a nerve, and before he could stop himself, Percy's frustrations poured out.

"Penelope's bright, no doubt, but mixing Muggle and magic… Well, it's a slippery slope, let me tell you." He sighed, a bit of irritation creeping into his voice. "I know that firsthand. My father—he's enchanted a Ford Anglia, and it's more than a little illegal, if you want the truth of it. He's risking the family's reputation, not to mention our livelihood, all because he likes tinkering around with Muggle toys. And my mother—she's going spare over it. She wants him to get rid of the thing, and honestly, she's right."

Harry's eyebrows rose slightly, but he stayed silent, encouraging Percy to continue.

"The worst part," Percy went on, frustration building, "is that he's sunk so many Galleons into it—ones we could have used elsewhere—that he won't hear a word about chucking it. But he can't sell it, either! You see, it's illegal to have it enchanted in the first place, so he's just keeping it hidden in the shed like some ticking time bomb."

Harry nodded, expression thoughtful. "So, he's stuck with it. Can't use it, can't sell it, and it's just taking up space."

"Exactly!" Percy threw up his hands, clearly relieved to vent. "It's absurd. All this trouble for a car that shouldn't even be enchanted in the first place. I don't know how he thinks he can keep it hidden forever."

Harry tilted his head, and without missing a beat, he asked, "How much would he want for it?"

Percy blinked, taken aback. "I—what?"

"The car," Harry said smoothly, as though they were discussing the weather. "If it's such a burden, I'd be happy to buy it. Under the table, of course. I could take it off your family's hands. Keep it somewhere secure, where neither the Ministry nor any Muggles would ever find it."

Percy stared at him, stunned. Of all the things he'd expected Harry to say, this had not been one of them. "You'd… you'd buy it?"

Harry nodded, his gaze steady. "Absolutely. It sounds like a piece of magic that deserves better than a shed—especially if it's putting your family at risk. I could handle the transfer discreetly, make sure it doesn't come back to haunt anyone."

Percy's mouth opened, then closed, as he processed the offer. "Harry, I… I don't know what to say. You'd really be willing to take it off our hands?"

Harry gave a faint, polite smile. "Let's just say I have an interest in unconventional artifacts. And, of course, I'd be doing your family a favor in the process."

Percy exhaled slowly, still somewhat shell-shocked, but he could feel himself warming to the idea. Maybe—just maybe—this was a way out of his father's risky experiment after all.

—

After Percy departed purposefully, muttering something about sending an owl to his mother immediately, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak from his bag and slipped it over himself, ensuring he was completely concealed. He'd already paid Madame Rosmerta in advance for the private booth, so he didn't need to linger.

Moving carefully, he exited the Three Broomsticks, merging with the bustling crowd of students and villagers, his steps silent and unseen. As he walked through Hogsmeade for the first time, Harry found himself appreciating the village's charm—the cozy, rustic cottages, the warm, welcoming pubs, and the scent of sweets drifting from Honeydukes. It was pleasant, but he noted quickly that it didn't have quite the same allure as Diagon Alley; the shops were smaller, simpler, with fewer varieties of magical goods.

The Shrieking Shack stood out as the town's main curiosity, an old house on the edge of Hogsmeade that looked foreboding, its windows dark and shutters creaking slightly in the breeze. Supposedly haunted, it was a place students would point to with wide eyes and exaggerated stories. Yet, as Harry eyed it with his Third Eye, there was nothing unusual about it; no lingering spirits, no curses. Just a crumbling, empty building. He shrugged mentally and continued on.

Eventually, he reached his true destination: Honeydukes. With the cloak still securely on, he waited outside, watching the entrance. Soon enough, a group of Hufflepuffs arrived, and he moved swiftly, slipping in right behind them as they opened the door, keeping close enough that no one would notice the door moving independently.

Inside, Honeydukes was everything Fred and George had described: rows of shelves and displays overflowing with sweets of every kind, from acid pops to Sugar Quills, Chocolate Frogs to Fizzing Whizzbees. A warm, rich aroma filled the air, making the shop feel almost alive with the scent of sweets and spices.

He made his way carefully to the back of the shop, slipping past a group of Ravenclaw fourth-years marveling over the Bertie Bott's display, and edged toward the staircase leading down into the basement. Waiting for a clear moment, he slipped down the stairs, making sure his steps were silent as he moved deeper into the dimly lit storage area.

The basement was filled with boxes and crates, each labeled with supplies for the shop above. It was cluttered but orderly, with various ingredients and extra stock neatly stacked along the walls. Moving carefully, Harry scanned the floor until he spotted it—a narrow trap door nestled between two crates of sugar dust. He knelt down, gripping the small metal handle, and lifted it to reveal the dark mouth of the passageway Fred and George had described.

Slipping into the tunnel, he closed the trap door quietly above him and began making his way through the sloping passage. The air was cool and still, carrying the faint smell of earth and stone. The narrow walls pressed in on either side as he followed the winding path, his footfalls muffled by the packed dirt floor.

After a few minutes of walking, he noticed the passage starting to slope upward. Soon enough, he reached the end: a section of false wall that opened discreetly into a quiet Hogwarts corridor, hidden behind the statue of the one-eyed witch.

He pressed carefully against the wall, which swung inward just enough to let him slip out into the dimly lit corridor. Harry glanced back just as the hidden entrance closed behind him, the one-eyed witch statue shifting seamlessly back into place. He brushed the dust from his robes, more thoughtful than excited. With Dobby's abilities, the passage wouldn't make much difference to him personally, but it could be useful as a discrete route for others or in case of emergencies.

—

Snape leaned back in his chair, setting down the last of the dismal essays from his fourth-years. He rubbed his temples, wondering if their minds were as dense as their penmanship was unsightly, and narrowly resisted the urge to incinerate the entire pile of barely passing work. Just as he was reaching for a calming cup of chamomile tea, a flicker of green flame appeared in his hearth, and Lucius Malfoy's head materialized in the fireplace.

"Lucius," Snape said, arching a brow. "Quite late for a social call. When was the last time we spoke—two years ago, perhaps three?"

Lucius's expression was as cold as ever, his voice clipped. "This isn't a social call, Severus."

Snape held back a smirk. That, too, was unsurprising.

"Draco informed me that you've been interfering in his investigation of Harry Potter," Lucius continued, voice low and frosty. "I would appreciate it if you allowed my son to conduct our family's affairs as needed."

Snape's eyes narrowed slightly. The boy had been running around Hogwarts like a shadow, constantly crossing his own paths, but it was Potter Snape had been trailing—not Draco. Yet Draco's presence had been a nuisance, a constant interference, especially given the younger Malfoy's penchant for melodrama.

"Family affairs, Lucius?" Snape asked, feigning disinterest but allowing his curiosity to slip in. "I had assumed Draco was merely… indulging a fixation. What exactly are these affairs?"

Lucius's mouth tightened, his reluctance evident, but he finally relented. "One of our house elves has gone missing. Dobby. Draco has been tasked with determining if the elf has taken refuge at Hogwarts, which is, after all, a known haven for such… creatures."

The pieces clicked into place. Snape's mouth turned down in a scowl. "Which would explain why Potter has been evading me lately," he muttered. "If he has a house elf popping him around the castle whenever he pleases…"

A flicker of something dangerous passed over Lucius's face, but Snape only waved his hand dismissively. "Tell your bumbling son to stay out of my way, Lucius. I'll handle Potter's investigation. If there's any information about your elf that turns up in the course of things, I'll inform you."

Lucius gave a curt nod, clearly annoyed but appeased for the moment. "Very well, Severus. See to it that this matter is dealt with discreetly."

The green flames flickered, and Lucius's head vanished from the hearth. Snape sat back, fingers steepled as he considered this new angle. A house elf aiding Potter… that would complicate matters, but at least now he knew what to look for.