The toughest thing about writing at times is you could never predict muse, or anything like that- because yes, it took me three months to even write a thousand words (writer's block is a bitch), and only three days to write 4k words. Of course, I am also in-between writing Never Expected This- which is only 8 chapters away from completion, so you'll have to bear with the sporadic updates.
On top of that life has delivered me a curveball in everything. I was dealing with racist coworkers that they chose not to do anything, and favoritism there (because I had an issue with a coworker and they took her side, despite having video evidence pointing to my side). I also lost my Grandpa last month- mid October- due to a freak ebike accident. Over a month later, we are still trying to deal with his mess.
So hopefully, nothing happens between the next update which I'm shooting for to be winter break, or sooner- depending on when I finish NET.
Chapter 42: Back to Hogwarts
September first arrived, and Harrison found himself standing on platform 9 , about to board the train to go to the second year of Hogwarts. Sadden smiles from parents, gleeful expressions as his fellow pupils spotted one another and ran towards each other, and whimpers were heard throughout the chaotic platform. Harrison studied the platform, narrowing his green eyes.
All he wanted to do was get away from this mess, but he couldn't.
Not yet.
The Malfoys were very insistent on saying goodbye to him and Draco, before they board the Hogwarts Express, and won't be able to see them for the next four months until the winter holidays come along again. Harrison stood patiently, as Narcissa leaned down towards Draco's height and wrapped her pale arms along Draco's torso.
"Oh, I'll miss you so much," Narcissa murmured, letting her head rest on Draco's shoulder. "I don't know what I'll do with my baby dragon being at school, and the manor will be very empty without you in it."
"Mum-" Draco protested, trying to escape out of his mum's hold on him. "Get off. You act like you won't be seeing me in a couple of months. I'll write to you everyday if it means you'll get off me."
"You better," Narcissa said, finally ending their hug and standing up to her height. "I want you to write to us frequently. Tell us everything that happens. Make sure you do well in your classes and if I find out that you're goofing off I'll-"
"Narcissa, that's enough," Lucius stepped in, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder, "You're being overbearing a little bit. He's entering his second year, so he'll make us proud. Besides, he has Harry by his side and you know how he is."
Harrison glanced over to the Malfoys, curious on why his name was brought up like that, considering he was barely paying attention to their small goodbye for now. It wasn't that important. There was no use for these trivial things such as goodbyes when they were going to see each other again in a couple of months.
"Don't think I didn't forget about you, Harry," Narcissa said, approaching him. "You may not be related to us by blood, but you're a part of this family like it or not. It also means that you also need to write to us frequently. We want to know how you're doing at school and what's happening at school."
"I will," He told her.
He had no intention of really doing it frequently, or really write to them at all for that matter. He just said it to get her off his back to hopefully finish this trivial matter of goodbyes. Besides, he was most likely going to be focused on his studies, sneaking off and doing whatever the Dark Lord told him to do- so there was going to be barely any time for any of that.
"Harry," said Ella, breaking the silence that seemed to happen. She grabbed onto his black robes with her small hands and clutched onto them tightly. "Are you sure you have to go?"
Harrison chuckled, "You know I do, Ella. I wouldn't mind staying but I don't know if a certain someone would even appreciate it. Otherwise, I would have to be his wrath and that's not exactly on my agenda any time soon."
"I'll miss you a lot," Ella protested. "It's going to be so lonely in the manor and the only company I'll have is Aunt Cissy and Uncle Lucius. There won't be too many kids around my age, and I'll be lonely."
"It's only a couple of months, Ella," Harrison told her, leaning down to where they met eye-to-eye. He cupped her face and told her in a low voice, "I'll promise you there'll be a surprise waiting for you in a couple of months. One I'm certain you'll love."
"Are you sure?"
"I promise," He told her. "You and I both know, I'll keep my promises. No matter how long it takes."
"I know."
"Good," He told her, standing up. "You'll see me in a few months. You'll manage, okay?"
Ella nodded. He hugged her for an added measure and felt her tears fall onto his robe. He fingered through her coily hair, and waited for her to let go of him.
Eventually, she let go of him and held onto Narcissa's hand as Harrison turned away and headed towards the steaming train that was about to leave. Draco waited for him at the entrance and headed to a compartment where he was certain where Blaise, Theo and all them were waiting for them. They were adequate company and most likely were going to turn to Death Eaters when they got older so he didn't mind.
"We were wondering if you were going to come," Blaise teased as soon as the compartment door opened that Draco pulled open.
"You know how my mum is," Draco murmured, sitting down next to Blaise, who was right by the window. "She wanted to make sure that we are going to be okay."
Harrison took a seat closer to the door, opposite of where Draco and Blaise sat. Theo sat by the window, looking more interested at the window than anything else. It didn't seem any of the girls were there which was a good thing. He didn't think he would be able to stand Pansy's crush on Draco or anything like that for the next several hours.
"It's Hogwarts what does she expect," Theo chimed, "If something doesn't happen then that's an odd school year. Besides, who knows what he has planned."
"Father says he has something planned. About a breakout happening on Azkaban. Say, Harrison, do you have any idea on what that is about?" Draco asked.
Harrison was mindlessly listening to the conversation when he summoned the diary along with a thing of black ink and a quill to write in it. He didn't care, nor was he surprised that the Dark Lord's inner circle members told their offspring that he has returned and something is brewing. They couldn't keep their mouths shut and besides, Draco was there when the Dark Lord was resurrected so it wasn't the biggest reveal. It was weird that they were having a conversation in a train that wasn't exactly warded to have a private conversation concerning the Dark Lord and his affairs.
He couldn't do much and instead shrugged, and told them in a low voice, "No idea."
He watched Draco's expression morph into a form of disbelief, but there was nothing that Draco could to prove it. Besides, Draco seemed to have a little more tact than revealing something that Harrison would rather keep secret of. Good.
"Right," Draco said, looking away, a blush coming to his otherwise pale face.
It was quiet in the compartment after that, before Theo spoke up, "What's everyone's opinion on our new Defense of the Dark Arts professor?"
Blaise shrugged, "It doesn't really seem like he knows much. Like what are his books supposed to prove… Besides, mum is in love with him and forced me to get them signed."
"Did you see how quickly he changed when he saw the Potters and the blood traitors. They practically became best friends and lapped up the fame and attention that they would receive. Took a picture and everything," Draco piped up, spatting out Potter's name in disgust.
"What do you expect from him? He's been raised in fame, Draco," Theo chided, raising an eyebrow. "He's the boy-who-lived. Everyone bows to him. Why are you so surprised? Besides, who knows the new Defense teacher might know his stuff."
"What do you think?" Draco asked, turning his attention towards Harrison. "About Lockhart?"
"He's a fraud," Harrison murmured, not looking up from the diary, about to write something down in it. "Honestly, I would be surprised if he even lasts the entire year without something happening to him."
Gildroy Lockhart was a fraud. For someone like Harrison, it was rather easy to identify that Gildroy Lockhart was a fraud. There was no way that in Wanderings with Werewolves, that he had been able to 'defeat' the werewolf by simply using the Homorphus Charm (a charm that allowed a temporary change to a werewolf supposedly), and ended up curing the werewolf from Lycanthropy. There was no such cure to Lycanthropy. There were only things to temporarily relieve the effects of the full moon such as the Wolfsbane Potion, but nothing of the sort to cure the disease, according to Grayback (back when he and Ella were curious if there was some sort of the cure) and the Dark Lord (who simply gave him a lecture about werewolves and afterwards told him not to bring up anything related to the man again or he'd end up getting a crucio).
"You're not suggesting that something is going to happen to him?" Draco asked, looking up towards Harrison who simply leaned against the compartment wall, his knees to his chest with a little black book with yellowed, frayed pages on his lap, now firmly closed shut. It was obvious that he wasn't going to do much writing with them talking right now.
"No," Harrison murmured, his eyes flickering towards the window, lost in thought. The Dark Lord would most likely crucio him or end doing something to him one way or another that would have Harrison begging on his knees in forgiveness- if he did something so reckless.
Especially since who knows if the old fool actually knew about the Dark Lord return or anything like that. Besides, right now Dumbledore might be highly suspicious of anything that pointed towards his return, and killing a professor- one from a cursed position would not end so well. Besides, he had no doubt that perhaps Dumbledore did know about the Dark Lord, how he had no idea bu, he wouldn't put it past him in the first place.
"How is he a fraud?" Blaise asked, frowning.
"Because there's no cure for lycanthropy." Looking at his classmates' blank looks, Harrison sighed. Of course they had no idea what they were talking about, at all. "Werewolves…. He made it sound like there was a cure for it- when there isn't one at all."
…
Hours passed by unnoticed by everyone, as the day slipped into the evening, the sun slipping down the horizon. The students busied themselves, donning their Hogwarts robes and hats in preparation for their return. By the time twilight deepened into night, hunger gnawed at their stomachs, and an air of anticipation buzzed through the train as it approached its destination.
The sharp screech of brakes echoed through the train, signaling their arrival. Through the windows, the majestic outline of Hogwarts emerged, growing larger with every passing moment as the train slowed to a halt.
On the platform, chaos reigned. Students jolted to disembark, eager to claim a seat on the carriages that would bring them up to the castle. Amid the commotion, Hagrid stood at the far end of the platform holding a lantern aloft. His deep voice carried across the crowd as he beckoned the first-years to gather around him, while the older students made their way through the commotion to the carriages.
Harrison managed to squeeze into a carriage filled with several of his housemates who simply nodded in acknowledgement in his direction. They didn't speak to anyone, simply keeping quiet, even after they got to the castle.
Once inside the castle, the students filed into the Great Hall. Candles floated overhead, their flames flickering in an unseen breeze, casting golden light that danced across the enchanted ceiling. The warm glow reflected off the golden plates that lined the long tables, their polished surfaces gleaming with perfection. At the front of the hall, the Sorting Hat rested on its stool.
Harrison slid into a seat beside Draco and Blaise, while Pansy, Daphne, and Theo settled across from them. The Slytherins waited patiently in silence, their quiet observation contrasting with the noisy chatter and lack of decorum emanating from some other tables.
Eventually, the oak doors to the Great Hall creaked open, and the new first years entered in a nervous line, trailing behind Professor McGonagall. They looked a mix of awestruck and apprehensive as their wide eyes darted from the enchanted ceiling to the watching crowd.
They approached the Sorting Hat, who stirred, its folds stretching into the semblance of a mouth, and began its song:
Another year, and here I stand,
To sort the brightest in the land:
Four houses wait to claim their own
Where talents spark and skills are grown:
For Gryffindor, the brave and true,
Who charge ahead with hearts anew:
In Hufflepiff, where kindness reigns;
The loyal work through joys and pains
Oh, Ravenclaw, the wise and keen,
Who seek the truths yet to be seen.
And Slytherin, so bold and sly,
With cunning plans to reach the sky.
The founders built this school with care,
Each house a home, a bond to share.
Though different paths may guide your way,
Together strong, we'll greet the day.
So place me now upon your head,
I'll judge the course you'll tread instead.
For as we sort and as we strive,
It's love and learning that keep us alive!
When the Sorting Hat finished its song, a polite smattering of applause filled the hall before silence returned. Professor McGonagall stepped forward, unrolling a scroll. One by one, she called the names of the first years, who nervously approached the stool and donned the hat. Cheers erupted at the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw while Slytherin politely clapped for each one of their own.
Soon, the last of the first year- a Weasley- was met with a thunderous applause from the Gryffindor table as the red-haired student joined her classmates. The noise soon died down as Professor Dumbledore rose from the center of the staff table, his twinkling eyes surveying the room.
"Before we begin our feast, a few reminders," he said, his voice warm and commanding. "First, the Forbidden Forest remains, as always, forbidden. Unless, of course, you'd like to make the acquaintance of creatures far less welcoming than our beloved Hagrid."
A few of the first years chuckled nervously; otherwise, no one reacted; they all heard this before.
"And Mr. Filch has asked me—rather persistently—to remind you all that magic is strictly prohibited in the corridors between classes."
A smattering of laughter from the Gryffindors followed this, though Filch's scowling face near the doorway made it clear he was not amused.
"And finally," Dumbledore continued with a slight smile, "it is my pleasure to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart."
Polite applause erupted across the hall. Lockhart stood and gave an elaborate wave, his dazzling smile reflecting the hall's light.
"That man," one of Harrison's housemates muttered under their breath, "is either a genius or completely insufferable."
"And now enjoy the beauty before you."
The feast appeared and everyone, save for the Slytherins dug. They politely dished out their portions and ate quietly.
"Look at Potter," Draco murmured, his voice low and dripping with venom. "And the mudblood. Weren't they awfully close last year?"
Nearby, he heard Crabbe and Doyle chuckle, but he doubted they understood. Pansy looked back over her shoulder after eating a spoonful of steamed vegetables, and looked at Potter and Weasley who were stuffing their mouths and talking to some of their classmates. The mudblood sat away from them, in conversation with one of the older Weasleys.
"You're right," Pansy Parkinson said in a small voice, "The mudblood was always hanging around Potter and that Weasley oaf."
"Wonder what changed?" Draco murmured.
"They had a fight. Granger being her know-it-all self, didn't like the fact that house-elves were essentially being treated like slaves and hated how the boy-who-lived bullied others," Harrison interjected coolly, before taking a drink of pumpkin juice.
The table turned toward him, expressions ranging from shock to smug amusement. The first years seemed particularly bewildered, while the older Slytherins smirked knowingly. It was going to be an interesting year without Potter having his lap dog that will rescue them in their education.
…
The next day, Harrison headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. The four long tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling reflected the dull, cloudy grey of the overcast outside. He nibbled on a little bit of toast and spooned himself a little bit of porridge. Around him, his classmates chatted about their summers, but Harrison paid them no mind, keeping to himself.
Soon, the familiar rush of wings filled the hall as owls streamed in, delivering parcels and letters to the students. The chatter grew louder as his classmates eagerly tore open their letters and unwrapped their forgotten belongings. He simply continued to eat quietly, not surprised that there wasn't anything for him this morning.
It wasn't long until Professor Snape passed out timetables with his usual stoic expression, his dark eyes scanning the room.
When Snape reached Harrison, he paused.
"Harrison," he said in a low, clipped voice, "I wish to see you in my office after breakfast." He handed over Harrison's timetable with a brisk motion.
Harrison accepted it without another word. Snape continued onwards, passing out the rest of the Slytherins their timetables. His gaze dropped down towards his timetable, noting that his first class was Charms with the Ravenclaws.
After breakfast, he made his way to the dungeons. The stone corridors were quiet, save for his footsteps that simply echoed off the walls. He didn't encounter any people as they still seemed to be at breakfast and enjoying their little free time they still had left over before their first class. He soon came to Snape's office and knocked only once on the wooden door,
"Enter," came Snape's reply.
Harrison stepped inside, his face impassive as Snape looked up from behind his desk. The professor's dark onyx eyes locked onto his with their usual sharp intensity.
"You wanted to see me, professor?" Harrison asked, his tone neutral.
Snape stood and started to approach Harrison, his face unreadable.
"Harrison," he began, his voice low and measured, "Do I even want to know how you managed to become the Dark Lord's heir? For as long as I knew him, the man never once entertained the idea of taking an heir. So, I'll ask—what makes you different?"
Harrison didn't bother saying anything to his professor.
Snape's voice hardened as he gave him a warning, "Whatever game you and the Dark Lord are playing at, you ought to tread carefully."
"I understand, Professor," Harrison replied evenly, his voice devoid of emotion.
Snape studied him for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, he said, "You may go. And, Harrison—remember what I said."
Harrison inclined his head slightly, then turned and left the office heading towards the Charms classroom. He wasn't worried about what Snape had just said- it was simply a warning, but he knew how to deal with the Dark Lord. After all, he didn't spend five years with the inmates telling him stories for nothing.
…
Defense of the Dark Arts class was practically a joke, even worse than Potter's and Quirrell's, at times- combined. It wasn't a class that he was even looking forward to as Gildroy Lockhart was a complete joke- even looking through his books in the summer, when he first got them. Nothing in his books screamed remotely that he was even competent to be even the Defense of the Dark Arts professor.
Harrison sat next to Draco, as the rest of the class filed into the classroom. The Gryffindors sneered at them in disgust and were loud and rambunctious. Rumors were already happening that Lockhart was giving Saeviour special treatment and fame techniques that he was sure the brat didn't need, or even more of a reason to have more of an inflated ego.
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front. Harrison resisted the urge to sneer. Only incompetent fools would have egos that big.
"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award – but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
It seemed like the professor wanted them to laugh at his weak-joke but failed. Everyone stayed silent in the class, besides a few of them giving him weak-smiles as result of that.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books – well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about – just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in …"
When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start – now!"
Harrison looked down at the paper, and read the questions:
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
Harrison was right; this man was egotistical. Every single question was related to him one way or another. Nothing that particularly concerned Dense of the Dark of the Dark Arts or showed the man's ability. He simply marked down everything that he remembered including the ones that he had skimmed through.
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.
"Tut, tut – hardly any of you remembered that my favorite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with a Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully – I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples – though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"
He gave them another roguish wink. He noticed from his peripheral vision that Draco gave him the professor a sneer, already wondering what on earth was this old fool going on about.
"... but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions – good girl! In fact –' he flipped her paper over, 'full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"
Hermione raised a trembling hand.
"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, to business …" He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it. "Now – be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizard kind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."
Harrison watched as everyone who seemed amused, straightened up their spines and became quiet as soon as the professor approached the cover covering what it looked like to be a rather large bird cage. Saeviour leaned over his books and several other Gryffindors seemed to do it as well. It was only the Slytherins that refused to look curious and held themselves up to a higher standard.
"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."
As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.
"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."
A Gryffindor named Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter which even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.
"Yes?" he smiled at Seamus.
"Well, they're not – they're not- very – dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.
"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"
The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and pulling bizarre faces at the people nearest them.
"Right then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.
Harrison and Draco quickly dove underneath their desks as the pixies flew free, shooting in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville Longbottom by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, upended the waste bin, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window. Within minutes, half the class was sheltering underneath the desks with most of the foolish Gryffindors playing hero and swatting them with books or anything like that, and none of them paying attention to Longbottom was swinging from the candelabra on the ceiling.
"Come on now, round them up, round them up, they're only pixies …" Lockhart shouted.
He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
It had absolutely no effect on any of the pixies; one of the pixies seized Lockhart's wand and threw it out of the window, too. Draco snickered beside him seeing the fool struggle to gain control of the class that he lost once he opened that cage. Didn't he know what he was getting into by opening that cage. Instead like a coward he was, he gulped and dived underneath his desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the candelabra gave way.
The bell rang and there was a mad rush towards the exit. Most of the Slytherins were the first ones out of the classroom. From nearby, Harrison heard Lockhart telling some of the kids, "Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.
"That man was insane," Blaise commented as soon as Lockhart went past them and disappeared from the corridor. "I mean who sets freshly captured pixies free. Doesn't he know that they are a menace?"
"Wait until my father hears about this," Draco said eventually, "He'll be ashamed of what this place has fallen to."
Harrison couldn't agree more.
…
Tom sat in an armchair, holding a glass of firewhiskey in one hand, while the other hand simply flicked through an old book that was written in parseltongue. In the background, the fireplace crackled, sometimes shooting up embers in the air and casting an orange glow in his study. Underneath his feet, Nagini laid on a dark green rug, right near the fireplace, bathing in the warmth that the fire gave her, her eyes slowly blinking as she stared into the fire.
It'd been a rather pleasant evening for him. After dealing with lots of paperwork that required his attention during the day, the bliss and peacefulness that the evening gave him, relaxed him quite a bit. He flicked through a couple of pages before his wards told him someone was coming in unannounced.
He set down his firewhiskey on the nearby table, closed the book with a snap and pulled out his wand, ready to curse whoever was about to come into his manor. Nagini, alerted to her master's actions, raised her body, her fangs out, ready to strike. The fireplace turned into green flames and came a younger boy with his bright green eyes and an annoyed expression on his face.
Tom relaxed, setting down his wand and picked up his firewhiskey and took a small sip out of it. Nagini returned to what she was doing, lounging near the fire when she realized that nothing was happening.
"Were you about to curse me or something?" Harrison replied.
"I wasn't expecting you at all," Tom told him, rather coldly. "You're supposed to be at Hogwarts."
Harrison blinked at him before he replied, "Yeah well… I escaped. I don't think I could last a full year with the way things are going at Hogwarts."
Tom arched his eyebrows, curious on what the younger boy was going on about. His expression was unreadable and his red eyes followed the younger boy who simply walked over and pulled a chair from nearby.
"You've barely been at Hogwarts for a week," Tom commented. "Pray tell me what got you visiting me."
Looking at Harrison's grin, he sighed and replied, "This better be good or are you going to tell me that you have a little Gryffindor side and that you are just truly impatient?"
Harrison scowled, clearly annoyed with the fact that Tom compared him to a Gryffindor with how rash he was being. Tom simply smirked as he saw the glare the younger boy sent him.
"The new Defense professor, Gildroy Lockhart is clearly an imbecile. He started off the class with a test that was just about him with his achievements and his likes. Nothing related to the subject, whatsoever. Afterwards, he released freshly caught pixies and didn't bother dealing with it… Aside from that, rumor has it that Dumbledore only hired him because he knows he's a fraud and is trying to set him up."
"I'm not surprised," Tom drawled. "He has a habit of hiring people that doesn't seem to align with the curriculum, too busy trying to set up his own plans in the meantime. You should know that, Harry."
"I'm not," Harrison replied, coldly, looking away from him. "We all know that the education system was already in decline for years. The headmaster trying to gamble with his students' education, in hopes in trying to put his plans into his place."
"Despite all that. I still want you to do your best. If I find out you're slacking off because of a professor's incompetence. I assure you, Harry, you'll receive far more than a crucio, understood?"
"Of course."
It was quiet in the study before Tom decided to break the silence, "I thought about your proposition about assisting with the breakout… It would be very helpful if you help me with that. You know where they are the best, and it'll be an easy break out. I just ask that you stay close to my side and don't reveal your identity to anyone, during or after it."