Chapter 5: Kids These Days

Harry looked with amusement at one Severus Snape, who very pointedly hadn't looked at him the entire time he had been in class these last several weeks.

In his original world, Snape disliked him to the extreme, something that hadn't bothered him much. He was used to people not liking him. After a while of not responding to his provocations, it seemed Snape had given up. He had wondered if Snape's grudge had persisted against Rose, and it looked like it had from a certain perspective, just in reverse.

Snape seemed to pointedly ignore Rose, his eyes skating away from her, and he seemed to avoid interaction with her at any possible moment. It probably didn't help that Rose looked a lot like Lily, Harry thought at least if Snape and Lily had the same relationship in school in this world as his.

Besides a skating of passive legilimency across his barriers, Snape had been rather polite, all things considered.

Snape actually really wasn't bothering any students, Harry noted. Neville, one of his favorite targets in Harry's world, remained unmolested by the man, though Neville himself was very different than Harry remembered him.

The boy was confident, perhaps overly so, and was flirtatious to the extreme with the female students of Hogwarts. Even more interesting he didn't seem to strike out all that often with many a student blushing at his smile and listening as he chatted them up.

Neville was currently sitting with one Lavender Brown who was giving him moon eyes, though the boy to his credit seemed focused on the potion.

The more immediate issue was these classes were incredibly boring. Harry could admit to himself. He had no interest in sitting through these lessons while he was instructed in information he already knew.

It was nice though sitting next to Rose, Celene, and Angelica, who were bent and focused at varying levels on their own cauldrons. Angelica's intense eyes narrowed in absolute ferocity as she glared at the cauldron while Celene was languidly stirring at her own.

Rose gazed into her own cauldron, her eyes narrowed, and a hint of pink tongue stuck out of her lips.

Without looking, he snatched a potion ingredient that had been floating towards his cauldron, setting it down gently on the desk as he continued to stir his potion.

Draco Malfoy from across the room blinked in surprise, his wand still out under his desk.

Harry grumbled to himself. It turned out there was a Draco Malfoy in this world; this one was also setting out to be a professional pain in his ass, seemingly a constant in both worlds. The boy in his world had never seemed able to leave well enough alone.

Some things he supposed never changed, though he was interested to know why exactly Draco had a problem with him this time.

However, if Malfoy kept trying to sneak ingredients into his potion, he would get a taste of his own medicine.

Harry sighed, stirring the potion once more before extinguishing the burner underneath to let the potion set. With a lazy twirl of his finger, he set a small, impenetrable ward around the brew to prevent any more ingredients from going in.

"Peverell! What do you think you're doing?!" Snape snarled, stalking over toward him, and Harry looked at the man bemusedly, even as he felt the class's attention center on them.

"I'm done, sir," Harry responded lightly. There was no need to antagonize the man quite yet.

"This potion takes one hour to brew. Have you ruined it already?" Snape said snidely, and Harry saw the undercurrents of glee in his expression.

"I'm actually finished, sir," Harry replied with a neutral expression.

Snape snarled and looked down into the cauldron; his expression shifted into something close to consideration before he looked back up at Harry, "What did you do differently from my instructions, Peverell?"

Harry met the man's eyes calmly, admiring the man's control of his magic; he hadn't let any slip out that could potentially ruin one of the potions.

"Four counterclockwise turns in the stirring process, and I crushed the nut instead of slicing it," Harry replied, eyeing the man.

Snape and Harry eyed each other, and Harry thought this was really a strange world. Normally, Snape would have snarled at him, perhaps even tried to vanish his potion, though his ward would have prevented that.

"You have an O for this potion, Peverall; you may leave," Snape said simply before turning and walking back across the classroom.

Harry hummed thoughtfully, packing away his supplies and bottling the potion; you never knew when you would need a blood replenisher.

He turned to Rose, Celene, and Angelica, who were looking at the ongoing proceedings with surprise.

He shrugged and gave them a half smile, "See you later," he said before he walked out of the classroom, disillusioning himself when he no longer felt any eyes upon him.

He walked down the halls of Hogwarts, thinking over the past few weeks of classes, and could only come to one conclusion.

"This world is strange," Harry said.

More than that Harry found himself wishing for something exciting to occur. A murder plot, a duel, anything to get his blood pumping.

Harry felt a flare of magic against the background of Hogwart's own signature and turned down a hallway to see a slim blonde girl with glassy silvery eyes and braided dirty blonde hair wandering down the corridor. She seemed familiar to Harry, but he couldn't quite place her.

Her eyes fell upon him and stayed there, "Hello," she said softly, "Are you a ghost?"

Harry blinked, surprised despite himself. He hadn't worked overly hard on the disillusionment spell, but he didn't expect to be seen so easily.

He released the spell, gazing at the girl consideringly, "No, I'm not."

"Oh," the girl said softly, looking down, "Another student."

Harry had the impression that such a result was not what the girl wished, indeed that she would have preferred he was a ghost.

"Why are you not in class?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

The girl shrugged, "I didn't want to," she said softly, looking away.

Harry, who had come to this world, would have let it be that way.

Harry frowned, looking at the girl, "That's not a very good answer."

The girl looked back at him and blinked her silver eyes, seemingly confused by his response, "I'm sorry," she said softly, and Harry noted a flinch; it reminded him of some of the wizards and witches he had rescued from dark wizards in his world, he had never paid it much mind, here though…

"I wasn't looking for an apology," Harry said, still frowning, "How do you expect to learn magic if you don't go to class?"

The girl shrugged, looking at him with wide eyes, but didn't answer.

Something was pressing against Harry's occlumency, and he groaned, massaging his head, pushing the strange feeling from trying to surface. He didn't have time for that.

"Well, if you're not in class anyway, do you want to go see something cool?" Harry asked.

The girl looked at him strangely, then she bit her lip and reached into her pocket, pulling a knut and then flipping it in the air before catching it; she glanced down at it and then turned back to Harry, shrugging, "Okay."

Harry grinned at her before gesturing for her to follow him, which she did so; he led her up the great staircases till they were on the fourth floor and standing in front of a massive statue of a knight.

Harry looked at the knight with a grin and then turned and winked at the girl before he drew his wand and ran it down the length of his palm, splitting his flesh and ignoring the gasp he heard from the girl.

He pressed his bloody palm to the statute, "Godric's Pride," he intoned.

Stone rumbled and groaned, and the knight came to life, shifting to the side as an entryway opened in the wall behind it, which Harry walked cheerfully into, followed after a moment by the girl.

Inside was a great circular room gilded with red and gold with golden statutes of wizards and witches arrayed about the edge of the room.

In the center of the room stood a singular golden statue of a man dressed in war robes, meaning parts were split to allow for freedom of movement; at his side rested a familiar sword that Harry had used to kill a basilisk all that time ago.

As they reached the center of the room, the girl walked a half step behind Harry, looking around wildly. The statute came to life, and its gold eyes centered on Harry.

"Greetings worthy Gryffindor," the statute said sternly, "Are you here to challenge for the inheritance?"

"One moment," Harry smiled warmly at the statute before he looked back at the girl, "Pretty cool, right?" he asked, proud of himself.

The girl turned from looking at one of the statutes, her silvery eyes looking at Harry widely, "What is this place?" she asked softly.

"Gryffindors Citadel," Harry smiled, "Here, anyone of Gryffindor's house can challenge his creation for the right to receive his inheritance. Pretty cool, right?"

There! If that didn't cheer the girl up, he didn't know what would!

The girl gazed at him for a long moment before she turned away from him, "I suppose it's mildly interesting; it's just a room, though; not much to it, is there? What's the challenge, some kind of puzzle?"

Harry frowned down at the girl. He thought for sure this would help, but it seemed that she was still unimpressed.

Still, he had one more trick up his sleeve, "Well, you haven't seen the best part yet."

He turned back to the statute, "I accept the challenge of Gryffindor," he said, his blood beginning to rush through his veins even as he flicked his wand out, casting a protection ward around the girl.

"May the right begin," the statute intoned.

Magic flared around the room, and the eyes of statutes arrayed about the room lit up fiery red as they drew their wands from suddenly very moveable golden robes.

Harry grinned.

His sense extended fully, and he caught the first spell with his wand tip headed towards his back, sending it flying back toward the sender, sending them flying backward to crash against the wall with a crack.

That was the signal for the start of the storm of spellfire.

Luna Lovegood was not insane. That is despite what people thought of her.

Privately, she sometimes thought it would have been better to be insane. Her mother's blood had given her the gift of mage sight; she could see the magic of the world swirling about her.

This magic took shape in a variety of forms, and when she was younger, she had named them. Her parents had understood, yet the other children were far less understanding. Even less understanding after her Mother died.

Looney Lovegood, the name had followed her all the way to Hogwarts, and even Ginny, the friend that had once stood by, had abandoned her when it was no longer cool to associate with the girl who saw things that no one else could.

She sometimes even suspected that her former friend also participated in the game of hiding her items in the castle. So, she had formed her defense. She didn't speak unless spoken to, and those times nowadays, it was only by a professor. She talked in riddles, cloaking the actions of the other students behind strange words because they didn't bother her as much if she didn't react to them. She stayed out of other students' way, and when she could, she avoided classes.

There was no one to reach out to, and so she quietly drowned.

Indeed, she had cried herself to sleep the night before she had gone back to Hogwarts for another year of loneliness and derision because even when she avoided other students, they could not even do her the courtesy of doing the same.

That was why she acted spaced out, unaware of the world around her. As long as she did not give them the reaction they were looking for, the bullying was minimized.

This had been working up until a very short time ago when she had encountered the new student in the hallway.

Harry Peverell. A boy that no one seemingly knew had appeared in the Wizarding World seemingly overnight. The number of rumors she had heard flying into her father had been incredible, some even saying that he was, in fact, Harry Potter, the dead son of the Potter family.

The strange thing was Harry, despite being here at Hogwarts for some weeks, did not seem to know her. At least, that was the only explanation that Luna had for his seeming indifference to meeting her.

It didn't make sense. Everyone else seemed to know to avoid her, but Harry, for some reason, had no concern for such matters.

She had followed along after him, wary, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She had never expected him to take her to Gryffindor's Citadel, the supposedly lost centuries-ago room of Gryffindor, something she had read about once in Hogwarts a History. He had done it so casually. Luna did not know what to say, lost for words, so she reacted indifferently.

She was starting to think that was a mistake. Spellfire flew through the room, and Harry dueled like a madman against a horde of statutes that all seemed intent on killing him.

She could see the barrier erected about her night impenetrable, even as a couple of spells splashed about her.

She was unable to take her eyes off Harry, though. Raw magic surged through him so fiercely that her eyes ached from the strain, but she could not turn away.

Luna had never seen such raw magic; it spilled forth like a torrent from Harry's wand and free hand.

He would shield with his free hand and launch a curse with his other in the same breath. It was inhuman. This, she thought, must be what people described Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Voldemort on the field of battle to be.

Peverell did this all with a smile on his face, seemingly having the time of his life, magic blazing in glowing arcs around him as he shielded, then retaliated by summoning a sweeping blade of wind that carved through the air only to be met and halted by the combined efforts of three of the statutes.

That seemingly had been a diversion, though, as Harry blew apart the chest of another statute to the side with a sharp jab of his wand.

The magic in the air became so overwhelming that Luna shut her eyes, still able to feel the magic racing throughout the room as Harry kept demolishing his opponents. The sound of explosions and the bursts of heat rippling through the air continued.

His magic was so overwhelming, yet even as it hung like a shroud around her, a part of her felt safe in a way she never had before. His magic wrapped around her, shielding her from harm, and in that magic, she felt his emotions.

A desire to protect, a desire to fight, a desire that she couldn't interpret for some reason but still just as powerful.

Who was this boy?

The magic stilled in the room, and Luna opened her eyes to see the smoking ruined statutes arrayed about the room. Harry was standing next to her unscathed, though his cheeks were flushed a bit from exertion or perhaps just from excitement, she realized.

The statute pieces liquified, flowing back to their plinths, and the same statue that had spoken first spoke again.

"Let all know that the Gryffindor's heir has risen once again and claimed the inheritance."

The statutes shifted, metal clinking as they kneeled down in unison with heads bowed down before Harry.

Harry didn't seem bothered and turned, chuckling at her, "You alright?" he asked.

Luna nodded slowly, "That was… how did you do that?" she said softly

"Oh, you know," Harry said, grinning at her, "Practice, that's why you should go to class, you know," he said seriously.

Luna blinked, surprised at the sudden change in topic. Had he done all this to prove that she should be going to class? Did he care that much? Something soft and warm emerged in her chest as she looked at him.

"Doesn't that mean I should learn from you instead?" Luna frowned, looking at Harry.

Harry frowned, tapping his chin for a moment, "I mean, I can teach you," he said, "But I still think you should go to class, too."

Then he glanced down at his watch and blinked before looking back up at her with a grin, "But first, Lunch, come on, I could go for something to eat."

He turned and walked out of the room, and after a moment of hesitation, Luna followed him. He was odd, but strangely enough, he seemed genuine.

Maybe just this one time, she could see if someone meant their kindness.

Together, they entered the Great Hall and sat together at the Gryffindor table, and Harry began to assemble his meal once again, enjoying Hogwarts cooking to its fullest. He had worked up a bit of an appetite from the challenge, but he seemed to have cheered the girl up somewhat.

Though he didn't know why he had done so, Harry frowned, chewing a piece of his shepherd's pie; his minor headache had emerged again. He frowned, increasing his Occlumency once again.

More people began to enter the hall to get their lunch, and Harry noted Dumbledore gliding in a stately manner.

Their eyes met, and Harry frowned as he saw them twinkling for some reason.

Twinkling was never a good sign in his experience; they usually did so right before Dumbledore would talk about love in that infuriating way of his.

Harry hated it when he did that.

Dumbledore walked up to the table, drawing the attention of the students as he did so, "Hello, Mr. Peverell, you seem to be settling in rather well; I'm gladdened to see so."

Harry nodded slowly, still unnerved by that look in Dumbledore's eyes; it was never a good sign.

"I am, thank you, Professor Dumbledore," he said.

Dumbledore gave him an all too familiar smile and then nodded his head, "Keep up the good work, Mr. Peverell," he said, then he turned away, strolling across the floor toward the head table.

It was official, Harry decided; Dumbledore knew something.

Harry sighed mournfully, poking his food; one thing he hadn't missed about Dumbledore was his lectures on items other than magic. He could practically taste that he was headed to one in his future.

"You seem to have an infestation of nargles," the girl he was eating with said in her quiet voice, strangely she froze as soon as she uttered the last word.

Harry nodded, sighing, "Just thinking about some stuff." Then he frowned as he realized something, turning to the petite blonde, "Wait, what's your name?" That word had been familiar.

The girl blinked silvery eyes at him cocking her head at him, "You don't know?"

"How am I supposed to know if you haven't told me?" Harry looked at the girl, perplexed.

She noticeably hesitated, then quietly she responded, "Luna Lovegood."

Harry nodded agreeably before his occlumency finally with a name surfaced his memories of her. He had actually taught her during the whole Dumbledore's Army thing before in his fifth year in his original world.

Strangely, he hadn't been able to pull her name to the surface, but he supposed she seemed a little different. More shy, far shyer, actually. Actually, hadn't Ginny spent a decent amount of time with her? Where was she?

Harry ran through his visual placement of the table in his occlumency, placing Ginny instantly as sitting next to Neville, giggling at something the boy had said as he gestured wildly about.

How odd.

Well, if Bellatrix Black could be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he supposed anything was possible.

Through the doors walked the trio he had most often associated with, Rose and Celene, walking behind Angelica. They seemingly spotted him immediately and began walking in his direction, aiming to sit with him just as they had done since Harry had arrived.

Harry's magic flickered uncomfortably through his head as he noted Neville Longbottom's eyes immediately tracked onto Rose.

What an unpleasant sensation, Harry thought, idly strengthening his occlumency barrier again, filtering out the feeling.

Rose fell into the open seat beside him, leaning against his shoulder heavily, "Harry, if I asked you to destroy the potions classroom, would you?" she asked plaintively, a small whine in her voice, pressing her soft chest against his arm.

Harry frowned in thought before nodding, "The castle may suffer significant structural damage from such magic, but I believe it would be feasible."

Celene giggled, tossing her blonde hair back and wiggling her cute nose at him, "What a hero, you hear that, Rose?"

Angelica sighed, "Just because you hate potions doesn't mean that you need to enlist your brother to do something drastic and get you both sent to Azkaban."

Rose snorted moodily, "It's not like we'd get caught, were kids of one of the Marauders. We'd blow this entire place to next week, and they'd all be left scratching their heads, wondering what happened."

"It wouldn't be that difficult," Harry opinioned, "The Hogwarts wards function under a double lock mechanism keyed to the headmaster and deputy headmistress. We would simply draw up a rune scheme from a sample of their magic and duplicate the presence from there to create a temporary bubble in the wards that tricks the wards into lowering. Specially prepared explosive runes than could do the rest of the work; you wouldn't even have to make those as Gringotts supplies them for a hundred galleons."

Harry took another bite of his meal before he looked up at the three girls looking at him; Angelica's eyes were wide, Celene looked confused, and Rose's expression was still twisted into a pout.

Celene chuckled, "But you wouldn't do that because that would also be super illegal, not to mention dangerous," she said, grinning at him.

Harry cocked his head at her, "If Rose wanted me to, of course I would," he stated plainly.

The girls looked at him for several long moments before Rose burst into a fit of giggles, "Wow, Harry, I didn't think you had that kind of sense of humor."

Celene also started laughing, and Angelica sighed, looking reprovingly at Harry, "You shouldn't joke about those kinds of things, Harry; what if someone took you seriously?"

"People should take us seriously," Rose sniffed, "But for now, we'll shelve that idea."

Harry nodded agreeably as the girls broke into a fit of giggles again; he supposed he wouldn't need to contact the Goblins yet after all.

Luna looked quietly between them, her silver eyes observing the interaction with a strange emotion that Harry couldn't place.

"Whose your tagalong?" Celene asked bluntly, looking at the girl with interest, "Making friends with the 'Claws."

Harry hummed thoughtfully before nodding, "Yeah, we met after potions, her names Luna Lovegood," he shrugged before taking a bite of chicken.

The three other girls looked at Luna with interest, and the girl responded with her own silver gaze, not attacking nor retreating; she shrugged her shoulders, "He's an odd person," she said simply as if that explained everything.

Rose blinked, seeming confused, before she shrugged her shoulders and gave Luna a warm smile, "Well, any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine; I'm well-" she blinked and stuttered, "Well, I'm Rose; she held out a hand to shake from across Harry's chest

Luna looked at it strangely before she took it gently into her grasp, and then they shook.

Celene grinned at Luna from across the table with a lazy smile. "Same here, name's Celene,' she affirmed.

Angelica drew herself up, nodding her head primly, "As the heir of the Black-"

Celene elbowed her gut, setting her into a sputtering fit, "Relax, we're all friends here. No High society nonsense."

Angelica gave Celene an evil eye but then nodded, giving Luna a small smile, "It's nice to meet you, Luna. I'm Angelica."

Harry observed taking another bite of chicken; this was nice, he vaguely thought; his occlumency barrier slackened no longer as pressed it seemed.

The rest of the day passed, and Harry saw Luna off to her classes before he went to Arithmancy. A couple of hours of dull calculations served well to spend time strengthening his occlumency barrier.

This led to a Defense Against Dark Arts lesson that quickly became a chore for Harry.

Truly, Bellatrix Black was a good teacher; he could acknowledge that.

Yet the woman seemed to take a twisted pleasure in messing with him. Multiple times, she had called Harry to the front of the classroom for a demonstration of a particular spell.

A spell that, of course, he was not allowed to dodge or deflect.

"And that class is how you deal with an opponent who attempts to use their physical capabilities to overwhelm you in combat," Bellatrix said over a trussed-up Harry who gazed at the ceiling with a long, suffering, far, away look, bound up in black cords that he had to restrain himself from transfiguring into a proper response to this indignity.

Thankfully for him, the class had reached its end before Bellatrix could torment him too much more.

During dinner, Luna had once again joined them before they had all trooped back to their dormitories. After some hours of hanging around in the common room, they all retreated to their respective dormitories.

Harry laid back on his bed, thumbing through a book that the book on Sumerian runes had put him onto. It was beginning to look like the information he required was not in this nook either.

He would have to find time to get into Slytherin's Chamber without drawing any attention to himself. Yet he still had not talked to Rose about the Chamber; he was unsure how to best broach the topic with her.

His dormmates, he noted, were being rowdy as usual.

"I'm telling you, Nev, she totally digs you," Seamus was saying.

Neville chuckled, and Harry found the sound oddly grating, "Yeah, that's why she's avoided me our entire time here. The day that Rose Potter gives me the time of day will be the day Hagrid swears off monstrous creatures. Plus, you've seen her with that Peverell guy; she's never looked that way at anyone."

Harry realized he truly had no desire to hear this conversation. Perhaps a late-night walk. Harry nodded to himself; yes, that would be for the best. He slipped out of his bed, disillusioning himself to full power.

He slipped out of the curtains, ignoring the rest of the conversation with the other boys in the room, even as they moved onto the topics of other girls.

Taking a step outside of the Gryffindor common room, Harry took a deep breath, relishing the silence. Like a ghost, he moved through the corridors of Hogwarts. He needed no Marauders Map to guide himself; despite being another world, Hogwarts was still very much the same.

Into the second-floor girls' bathroom, he stepped and walked up to the sinks.

'Open,' he hissed into the air, and the sinks slid apart, revealing a pitch-black tunnel.

Harry stepped into the open air, hovering for a moment before he shot through the tunnel, levitating his body through it at high speed through the twists and turns.

He emerged into the familiar entrance of the chamber, hovering through the air above the bones. He continued his path forward, traveling past the snakeskin until he arrived at the relatively expansive main part of the chamber, where he spotted his quarry, the massive body of the basilisk.

Though he noted one of its fangs was missing, "Don't tell me Rose has done the rituals," he murmured thoughtfully, rubbing his arm where he had once impaled himself with a basilisk fang to imbibe the strength of his mortal opponent.

Concern flared in Harry's heart as he remembered he had seen a scar on Rose's arm a couple of times the few times she wore clothing with short sleeves.

He would have to verify she had done them correctly.

Harry shook himself free of his worry, rotating his body slowly through the chamber as he observed everything. He would perhaps have to be more insistent on the conversation with Rose, but there was nothing he could do right now.

Finally, he spotted what he was looking for, or more correctly felt it.

The taint of dark magic was thick at a spot near the basilisk, and Harry observed the spot with a grim smile. So there were Horcrux's in this world. He had hoped his research was for nothing, but now the chances of Rose not being a Horcrux were low indeed.

He had hoped, but it had been a fool's hope at best.

Harry flew to the side of the chamber and pressed a small snake embedded in the stone. He watched as a door came into existence, and he stepped through into a massive study.

This was a familiar sight.

Harry sighed, pushing his messy black hair back; he had a lot of reading to do.

It was early that morning that Harry emerged back into the halls of Hogwarts, murmuring thoughtfully to himself as he walked the empty halls.

He walked the corridors thoughtfully, configuring the knowledge in his head to something workable.

He was not so distracted not to notice when he picked up a tail.

"Professor Black," he said politely, staring at one of the sleeping paintings.

A moment of silence passed before Bellatrix Black revealed herself, shimmering into existence a couple of steps away from him.

"Impressive," she said, eyes looking at him like she was dissecting an interesting puzzle, "What gave me away, might I ask?"

Harry looked thoughtfully at the woman. He could sense her magic, which made the invisibility charm inconsequential. He was still unsure, though, of what side she was on in this particular war.

"Your perfume," he said simply, "Magical perfume doesn't like being camouflaged with more magic."

"Impressive," Bellatrix nodded.

Harry looked at her thoughtfully. Her teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts so far had been exemplary, but Harry wondered where that knowledge came from. Perhaps simply because she had been a good student, perhaps because she was Black.

Perhaps another reason.

"Is there something you need, Professor Black?" Harry asked after a long moment of looking at each other.

"Hmmm, I wonder," Bellatrix pressed a finger teasingly to her lips as she looked at Harry, "Were you wandering the Hogwarts corridors this last night?" she asked, grinning slyly at him.

Harry looked at her thoughtfully, weighing his answer.

"You wouldn't lie to your godmother, would you, Harry?" Bellatrix asked, stepping forward, the swell of her breasts particularly pronounced as she gazed at him.

Harry was unmoved as he looked at the woman for a long moment before he spoke, "Unfortunately, there are not enough hours in the day to handle a schedule like mine," he said simply.

"Oooh," Bellatrix cooed, "A late-night rendezvous? What would your mother say?"

"If that's what you wish to tell her," Harry shrugged; it was inconsequential ultimately; he would prefer Bellatrix think that than his true purpose. Until he could truly ascertain whether Rose contained a Horcrux, his research would remain tightly sealed in his mind.

People were different in this world, true, he had no reason to suspect this Bellatrix. He did not see the woman who had killed Sirus in front of him.

Yet his trust was not so easily won with the current stakes. Voldemort excelled at manipulating people to his own ends.

Bellatrix gave him a put-upon pout, "Oh, don't be like that; I'm a Professor and your Godmother; you can tell me."

Harry looked at the woman before he shrugged carelessly, "I was out snogging some birds; what can I say," he turned and walked away, suppressing the twinge in his head ruthlessly; Rose's life was on the line.