(AN: Time to get into the nitty gritty.)


"What is with this incessant waving?" The man glared at him.

"Uuuuh, I don't know?" Harry admitted with a shrug. "It makes people smile?"

"Is that a question or an answer?"

"An answer?"

"And by people you mean Cassandra?"

Harry sucked his teeth, but nodded. "She's one of them."

"Cassandra Gaunt has had a terrible life, one I'm sure you have had no comparable events to besides being grounded for an hour, so some other such punishment your aunt no doubt 'punished' you with."

Harry bristled at that comment.

"I am ordering you now. Leave her alone, or else."

"Or else what?" Harry glared at the man.

"Watch your tone, boy."

"Boy, boy, boy." Harry muttered with a scowl. Just like his uncle.

"Excuse me?"

Harry turned and walked away from the man. "I'm not going to abandon a friendship, just cause you said so. And just because you helped her out with Quirrell, doesn't mean I'm going to listen to you now!"

He made to grab the door, but for some reason, he started sliding backward. Harry couldn't move either, in fact, he could barely breath through his nose. Snape's hand fell onto his shoulder, and slowly the man walked around him, glaring down at him. "If you ever mention my conversation with Quirrell to anyone. I will make your life at this school Hell, boy. And stay away from Cassandra Gaunt. You being near her is a danger. To the both of you. I will only warn you once more. The next time I see you bothering her, I will remove points. Anytime after that, it will be a detention. Then more, and more, and eventually, I will make sure you are expelled."

Finally, Harry could move again, but instead of leaving or commenting on that issue, he chose the cheeky route. "All I wanted to do was get a Cooking and Baking Club going. Now I'm really frying in grease."

"Out!"

Harry disappeared out the door, nearly bowling over someone who stepped in his path.

"~Troublesome~." A hand grabbed his shoulder before he could fall backward through the door.

"I'm just a little bit of trouble." He smiled at the face above him.

Cassandra Gaunt snorted, and a twinkle formed in those silver eyes of hers. "Pomfrey."

"Huh?" Harry was too distracted by… well, he wasn't paying attention and he would leave it at that.

"Your club. Pomfrey can lead."

Harry had no clue who that was.

"Right…"

They heard the sound of feet thundering down the end of the hall, and Cassandra turned around, copying his little wave he always did at the waist. "Stay safe."

"Yeah…"

She walked over to a nearby portrait and leaned over to the corner. "~Open for me~." There was a light click, and Harry watched as the girl pulled the portrait open and disappeared into a hole in the wall. A moment later, a group of sixth year Slytherins appeared, huffing and puffing in front of Harry.

"Potter. Why… is it… always… you?"

"Hello Mr. Avery." The teen stood straight, adjusting his collar and tie.

"Where'd you hide her, Potter?" A menacing looking boy stepped forward.

"Now, now, Goyle." Avery held a hand up. "It would be nice if you knew, though, Potter."

"That way." Technically, that wasn't a lie. Cassandra had turned that way to get into the portrait. The older boy fished through his pocket, and eventually pulled out a bright red and yellow wrapped item, tossing it to Harry.

"Candy for a candy." The boy muttered before running down the hall, the other two glaring balefully at Harry.

Who cared though, he got free candy. He didn't recognize it from the train either. It wouldn't be a bad idea to ask another student what it was before eating it, though. Just to be sure.


The rest of the week came and went, with Harry poking and prodding Cassandra the few times they met in the hallway, even offering her a seat by him once when the Great Hall was mostly empty.

"~I'd love to.~" Yet even though she had said that, the girl continued on with her normal posse. Turning her nose up as she did. He needed more puzzle pieces.

In Potions on Friday, Snape had probably taken almost twenty points from the boy before he suddenly tripped, nearly taking poor Neville to hell with him. Harry was the only one that saw Cassandra stealthily put her wand away. Still. Friday came and went, and now it was Saturday morning.

"You know… you could sleep in like the rest of us," Ron muttered as Harry tried to get ready.

"The early bird gets the worm." Everyone else but the most studious would be asleep right now. And seeing as how his target was supposedly the most teacher's pet of all teacher's pets, then he needed to go and get his worm that was a pet that—"This analogy is getting out of hand." He grabbed his book as well as the prepared papers, planning on doing his charms work, and began the long trek down to the Great Hall.

Target sighted.

Two goons.

One teacher.

"It's go time." He snuck along his side of the hall, watching the goons that stood nearby, arguing with each other. However, they weren't easily distracted. The second one of them spotted Harry, both sets of eyes fell upon him, stalling his plan. They maneuvered over to their protectee, standing at her back. He cursed and slowly sat at the end of his table. Grant sent a rude gesture his way as he returned fire, making sure McGonagall wasn't watching. He twisted around and made a plate of food, something quick to eat on the go, packed with protein for his muscles, carbs for energy, and fats, just in case he was imprisoned for his crimes.

It was a bacon egg and cheese sandwich. Whole Grain of course.

He glanced back, staring at the two guardians as they continued to argue with each other, only watching him with a side eye now. Maybe in another minute he'd be able to sneak past them. Maybe. His eyes narrowed, Avery sneezed into his shoulder, and Grant jerked away.

It was go time.

"Morning." He spun around, watching as Cassandra slowly cut into the plates of food before her, sitting right across from him.

"Uh… morning." He grinned stupidly at her. She was quick, quicker than him.

Even the way she ate was mesmerizing. Wait? When had she become mesmerizing? She was a puzzle! Something to be solved… a beautiful, soul melting, puzzle…

"You should stop."

"Stop?" Harry startled at the words. Those blank eyes stared at him now, not the shining ones he wanted to see.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, and finally, after a minute of silence, she shattered it and his heart like glass. "Being nice." A pause. "To me."

A thousand words flew through his head, and eloquently, he said, "Huh? No. Why?"

"We are. Too different." She sounded sad.

"You were fine on the train?"

"That was then." Finally, a spark of life entered her eyes, a small bit of fury.

He frowned. "Is it something I did?"

She smiled at him. "No. We are… too different. Dark and Light."

"You really believe in that sort of thing? Dark and Light? Black and White? Good and Evil?" Harry didn't like this quiet, eloquent, soft version of the girl he had met on the train. He wanted the annoyed magic master maniac that hung pumpkin pastries out of her mouth.

"Hate me." She said. No. It sounded more like an order.

"Why would I ever?" He scoffed.

She sighed and stood, leaning down as she passed him. "I am related… to the man who…"

"Who what?" He looked at her, watching as she bit her lower lip.

"He murdered you parents. Gave you that scar. My grandfather. Supposedly."

Harry froze.

"Goodbye."

He barely heard her walk away as his anger built.

"Lady Gaunt…" One of her minders began.

Why?

"You should be careful."

Why her?

"I handled it."

Why did she sound so sad?

He could smell something in the air. Ozone? Was that it? His skin was burning.

"Are you sure?"

"…Yes…"

She shouldn't sound sad like that. When she did, it sounded just like him… like when Dudley would threaten kids that were nice to him. Harry would always tell them to leave. Always. It wasn't worth someone else being hurt.

"He doesn't look okay?"

"Potter?" Avery asked from across the hall.

"Mr. Potter!?" McGonagall shouted at the teacher's table.

"People… should be allowed to be people." He whispered. There was an explosion. He wasn't sure where it came from, but there was a loud crack followed by glass shattering, plates and goblets flying along with the food that rested on them. His side felt wet, and Harry wasn't quite sure why.

Someone grabbed him, but his body was growing numb. His vision blurred. Why couldn't he see?

Was someone calling his name?


"Did you hear?"

"The whole table flipped into the wall!"

"It was crazy!"

"Gaunt attacked him."

"She's evil. Evil I tell you."

"Evil."

"Death Eater in training!"

"Attacked Potter."

"I heard a rumor."

"Related to you-know-who."

"Crazy."

"Monster."

"A freak."

"Freak."

Freak.

Freak. Freak.

Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak.

Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak.

Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak.

"You'll never be anything more than a filthy fucking freak!" The cane came down on her back, and she vomited from the pain. "Nothing. More. Than. A. Freak!" Over and over and over and over and—

Nothingness never tasted sweeter.


Harry gasped awake, rolling off his bed with practiced ease. He scrambled for a trash can, but only found open air as his breakfast quickly came back up into his throat. He puked on the floor.

"Mr. Potter!" Someone was grabbing him, picking him up by the shoulders and heaving him back onto his bed. Everything was blurry. What was going on? Was he in the School nursery? Was Mrs. Frawn here? He had to hide his bruises. He couldn't risk the coppers being called again. Not again.

"It wasn't their fault." He slurred.

"Calm down, Mr. Potter."

"It was a dog." He tried to shake out of Mrs. Frawn's grasp. "It jumped on me. And I—I fell down the stairs."

"Mr. Potter?"

"It wasn't… their fault."

Darkness again.


"Of course. He hates me. I told him the truth."

"My dear, I doubt that."

"You didn't. See. The hatred."

"Cassandra… please, don't force yourself to hold back. It's just me and you here."

Several minutes of silence passed before the dam finally burst and her shields fell. "You should have s-s-s-seen hi-hi-hi-his face! He hates m-m-m-me!"

"Cassandra. We won't know until he wakes. After what you told him, he had the right to be angry. But from what I've seen of the boy—"

"I can't k-k-keep doing t-t-t-t-t-t—" the girl screamed, hiding her face behind her hands and sobbing. "Stupid. Damned. St-t-t-tutt-t-t-t-ter!"

Albus could only console the child as she wailed into her arms. "You don't have to, my dear."

"I-I-I-I hav-v-ve to."

"We can always find another way. Getting you to America, or somewhere else—"

"They'll f-f-find me… E-e-evert-t-t-t-t-t-t—all of it is c-c-cursed!"

He remembered the first time the girl had tried to run. She didn't get far. When she came back after Easter break in her first year, she had a new scar. Of course, Lucius had blamed it on her old muggle relatives. But Albus knew… he just didn't know what to do.

"I-I-I j-j-jus-s-s-st w-w-want to d-d-die…"


When Harry woke up for the second time, he barely remembered the first, though as he looked around, he immediately realized this was the Hospital Wing. No one was nearby, and even as he tried to call out, no one answered. He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time was 6pm. Was it still Saturday?

Oh right, he had a meeting, right? With the hat? Friday night he had received a letter from the Headmaster. Something about liking… Cockroach Clusters? He rolled out of bed, standing with a stretch. "Man." Whatever happened had tired him out. Hard. His muscles were so sore. Quickly, he gathered the clothes that were neatly folded by his bed and got dressed. He didn't want the hat waiting on him.

It only took him two minutes before he was slipping out the door, his bag slung over his shoulder. Where was the Headmaster's office again?


It took time, and asking some random Hufflepuff that acted like he was seeing a ghost, but Harry finally found the door that sat between two stone gargoyles.

"Uh… what did that kid say?" Why was it so hard for Harry to focus? Right. Say the password in between the two statues. "Cockroach Clusters?" That's the ticket. Harry slowly walked up the stairs, only to startle as they automatically moved upward. He steadied himself against the railing, waiting. It took about thirty seconds, but eventually he stepped off and stood at a beautifully ornate door.

Harry knocked.

"Come in."

The door swung open, and Harry couldn't help but instantly look around, staring at the odd trinkets and beautiful portraits the filled the room. Not only that, but the books. There were so many books! Harry wanted to gobble them all—Oh. There was also a… a sleeping princess.

"Good, you're just in time." He turned toward the voice, staring at the Hat that sat atop a shelf near a bird's perch.

"Good evening." He nodded at the hat.

"Are you… well? Mr. Potter?" Oh right, he forgot about the Headmaster.

"Perfectly fine." Forget about him, though. Forget about the hat, too. Cassandra. He turned to the girl. She seemed… peaceful. That was good. She was surrounded by parchment work and books with titles that he could barely wrap his head around.

"Mr. Potter." The old man was blocking his sight now, and he stumbled back as his head swam. "Perhaps we should postpone—"]

"Nay, Headmaster. This is the perfect time. Perhaps now I can talk sense into this boy. Put me on him."

"He might have a concussion, Alastor."

"Good. Easier to sway, that way."

"Give me the hat." He needed to be a hero to save the princess, right? Just like his story books.

"You still haven't told me—"

"Put me on him! This is for his ears only."

"I'm fine."

It took the hat threatening to make an inappropriate song for the next school year, but eventually, the hat was placed onto Harry's head, and he was allowed to sit. He'd have to thank the Headmaster for the amazing chair that he practically sunk into.

"Hmm… yes. Definitely a Gryffindor." And then silence.

"Is that it? You just needed to confirm that you made the right choice?"

"No, no… of course not."

"You don't sound so convincing."

"I'm working my magic, boy. If you want to give up, simply say so instead of insulting me."

"Rotten Hat."

"I! Can read your thoughts! Boy…" the hat grumbled.

Before Harry could make another comment, however, he felt… cold. So… so cold.

"Four houses stood at the edge of nothingness. A horde of hatred and fury threatening to swallow them whole."

Harry's breath hitched at the disembodied voice. It wasn't the hats; it was… older.

"Four houses stood, and nothing fell… Hecate, the Mad Witch, fell into hell, never to be seen again."

Hecate? The Greek Goddess?

"Four houses stood, yet descendents scattered. For years, no heir stood. Until one was finally claimed by the mother. Claimed by Hogwarts."

"The Founders?"

"Yet one was not enough. A nothingness anguished once more. Another was needed. Another chosen. Yet none were pure enough."

"Pure blooded?"

"Darkness ensnared one heir, trapping her, never to be released. Never, unless another reached out."

"The princess…"

"Take the sword. Cut away the darkness. Death approaches. He comes for what is his."

"Take me off, boy, or your concussion will be worse."

Harry wasn't paying attention, and that cost him greatly, as something crashed into the top of his skull. He fell over with a groan, clutching his head, trying to blink away the stars.

"Is that—" the headmaster sounded shocked.

"The sword of Gryffindor." The hat spoke.

Harry stood slowly, grabbing the offending item, and slowly he lifted it. It was both heavy, yet light. He could easily swing the beautiful weapon, watching its glittering rubies shine in the flames of the room's torches. Yet there was a heaviness to him that felt deeper.

"Was that… a prophecy or something?" He asked the hat.

"No… merely a warning. A tale, really. You should leave before she awakes. Leave the sword with Albus. You can't very well go showing it off around here. Should you ever need it, truly need it. It will come to you."

Harry stared at the hat… he was so tired.


Pomfrey, he found out who the woman was finally, was the Matron of the Hospital Wing. She was not happy that Harry had escaped in the scant five minutes she had left to deal with a potion incident in the room across the hall. Of course, he ended up having to stay the whole weekend, not being released until Monday afternoon. But at least he had visitors. One of which included Avery Jr.

"Potter."

He waved. The older boy scowled.

"Let's just get to the point of my visit."

"If it's to warn me away from—"

"It is—about Lady Gaunt, at least. She didn't do—this." He waved at Harry's condition. Bandaged head to toe and covered in a dozen different salves and potions.

"I know."

"You may hate—wait, you know?"

"It was my magic." Harry shrugged. "I could never hate Cass."

"Cass!" The teen's eyes went wide. "You can't call her that."

Harry smiled.

"Whatever. Do not antagonize her. The rest of your house is already starting arguments and pulling wands in the corridor right now. Tell them to stop. Lady Gaunt is only a third year. Being threatened by seventh years is causing her to… relapse. Even the Hufflepuffs are starting to join in."

Harry leaned forward, grabbing Avery's robes as the teen tried to move away. "I don't know what kind of power you think I have in Gryffindor… but I'll tell as many people as I can to back off… but I need to know something… What is up with your house and Cassandra? Why is there always someone following her? Or chasing her down." Why was he not allowed to be her friend?

For a long time, the sixth year merely stared at Harry. Before a resolute sigh broke. "It has been over a century since a proven heir has come to Hogwarts. At least for Slytherin. Most of the time, our house is divided, cut into pieces due to politics. However, when a little girl no bigger than an eight-year-old came into our dorm as a Muggle-born, the house shook even more. Then, all of a sudden, we had something. An heir. A leader. She is a descendent of our Founder. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had heirs for so long, and Ravenclaw never needed one. The smartest was their leader. But Slytherin? This was something new. Half of the house saw her as the next Dark Lord, or lady in her case, and immediately started currying favor. The other half of us saw her as something else. Lady Gaunt is the future of our house, and one that can finally lead us out of the darkness the last potential heir left us in. My own father is in Azkaban due to that man. I will not follow. I refuse. So while half the House wishes to mold her into something she is not, the rest of us simply wish for her to be protected."

"Is it… true that she's Voldemort's granddaughter?"

"Do not say that name!" The teen whipped around, quickly looking at the doors in fear. "We do not say that name. Surely someone has told you. It is either you-know-who or the Dark Lord."

"Ok." Harry said. "Not really, though."

"But… perhaps. That is the rumor, at least. The Malfoy family at least seems to believe it. It's why they fought so hard to adopt her. Several people died in the process, but they eventually convinced the Wizengamot. Normally, it would be up to Child Servies, but with her being so high profile as a potential heir—"

"You all keep throwing around that title. Proven and Potential. What does any of that mean? Why is she now considered a proven heir?"

"Because the House deemed it so."

"So just because some students—"

"No." Avery stopped him. "The House and the School itself claimed her. Hidden passages open for her, and her alone. Portraits bow to her. Suits of armor kneel. And more. She is proven. She is out lady. And with her talent and dream, I'm sure she will become the Lady of this school."

"Her dream?"

Avery's eyes narrowed. "You've kept me long enough, Potter. Tell you house to stand back." Avery left, his robes billowing just like Snapes did. It had to be some sort of spell or charm.

Just before he left the room, however, Harry shouted out a quick reply. "I will. I'll make them stop." The accident was his fault and his alone. His house shouldn't be blaming anyone else. He'd make them stop.


It seemed a party was being thrown in his honor when he finally limped back into the Common room just as their lunch period was beginning. Food and drink were everywhere, music was blaring, and people were dancing. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but—"Harry!"

Ron helped him find a seat as everyone cheered his name.

"Wicked, mate. Landing in the hospital wing in the first week of classes?" Which one was that? He couldn't tell from the Gryffindor's face.

"Absolutely smashing, mate. I heard the duel was long and powerful!"

"Down with the Slytherins!"

Harry froze, and Ron nudged him with his elbow. "You should have seen the pranks that were pulled, mate. Someone used a switching spell apparently to swap a paper plane with a bowl of spoiled milk. Fell right on Gaunt in the middle of the Hall. Man, the Slytherins were pissed. The Headmaster had to step in last night, sent up this massive shield just as spells started flying. Ended it quick. She ran out of there. Her lackeys were too slow. It was—"

"Enough!" Harry surged to his feet. "All of you, stop it!"

"What?" was the majority's response as the music was lowered.

"What the hell happened!? Why is everyone celebrating?!"

"You don't remember, kid?" A Sixth Year prefect came forward. "Your duel?"

"What duel?" A fire was starting to swell in Harry as he glared around.

"Yours and Gaunt's! It's all anyone can talk about! A First Year and A Third Year trashing the Great Hall is nothing to scoff at."

"There was no duel." He scowled at them.

"Come on, Potter. Just because you lost doesn't mean you didn't take those snakes down a size. You went after their princess. You—"

"I didn't go after anyone!"

"Harry, mate." Ron tried.

"No! This is crazy! We didn't duel! We talked."

"And how do you explain the table embedded in the wall? Took Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster to fix all the damage done."

"That was just me. Accidental Magic."

"At your age?" Someone snorted.

Harry's scowl deepened, and he glared at the entire room. "Yeah! So what! My accidental magic shot a table through the walls of Hogwarts. What all did you ever do? Balloon a frog?"

Silence.

"Now I want all of you to leave Cassandra Gaunt alone. Or else!"

One mean looking boy stepped forward, and several other students began to murmur to each other in angry whispers. "Or else what?"

"Probably hit his head."

"A little firstie."

Harry's anger was building inside, but a thought occurred to him. "The House and the school itself claimed her. Hidden passages open for her, and her alone. Portraits bow to her. Suits of armor kneel. And more. She is proven. She is out lady." Right, the school claimed her. Didn't… Didn't the hat claim him?

"Listen kid. You got into a fight with Slytherin, which means we're now at war with them. Just because you say otherwise—"

What was it the Hat had said. He just needed to… need the sword?

"—Doesn't mean we'll stop. Besides, they're just as retaliatory."

He needed to want it. He pictured the sword in his hand, pictured the weight, its rubies. He could practically imagine it.

"They throw just as many spells back as we send at them. This isn't up for debate."

Wasn't there an inscription? What had it said?

The other students began shouting their own words, turning everything into a jumbled mess.

"Courage is the Sword of the Hero." Harry whispered. And in a small flash of light, there sat the Sword of Gryffindor, gleaming in his hand.

"What?" someone whispered from nearby.

Harry rose the sword in the air. The sound of moving stone and rustling armor sent everyone scrambling, looking around the room in a panic. The statues and armor that line the room all moved forward, kneeling at Harry's feet. The portraits bowed, and people gasped.

"No one! Is to raise a wand against Slytherin. We are all part of Hogwarts. All a family. So I say, so mote it be." Harry felt drained, and it was as if another voice was speaking through him. As if he were possessed. But still, he thanked the voice.

"Holy shit…"

Harry grasped the sword and left the common room, heading for his dorm room. He needed to sleep.

Of course, the second he stepped in, he saw Ron's older brothers sat on his bed, tinking with something in their hands.

"Ah, Potter. Just the person we wanted to see." According to Ron and some others, the two were notorious pranksters. He remembered someone talking about spoiled milk being dropped on Cassandra's head, and felt himself fuming again.

"Did you two have anything to do with pranking Cassandra Gaunt while I was in the hospital wing?" He didn't realize, but he was gripping the sword very, very tightly, and more than a little threateningly.

"We love a cheeky bit of pranking." One began.

"Love a good laugh.

"But in our First Year… we were a little more…"

"Evil?"

"Just a smidge." The two's back and forth was making Harry's head hurt.

"We targeted Gaunt, because she was easy."

"Even her own House hated her."

"When she came back from Easter Hols, we did one last prank."

"Apparently she tried to jump off the Astronomy Tower that night."

"So we wanted to come up here and ask you not to be so…"

"Harsh on her."

"But you settled that pretty well."

"Heard your shouting all the way up here."

Harry looked at the two and sighed. "She's my friend. Of course, I wouldn't let these riff raff do anything more."

"Oh? A friend, he says. Quite friendly, aren't they?"

"All those doe eyes he makes at her."

"Honestly, I thought he was just stalking her."

"Oi!"

"But they're just friends."

"I think it's one sided."

"Watch it!"

"Oh, of course."

"Hail to the mighty lord Gryffindor!"

"Hail to him!"

The two snickered at each other, but danced out of the room, eyeing the sharp glint of his sword.

Speaking of the sword. What did he do with it now?


Two nights later, on Wednesday, Harry made his way into the Great Hall, sword in hand. He marched between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, staring down anyone who gave him the stink eye. Gryffindor looked subdued, and Slytherin was eyeing him warily. "Good."

He saw the Headmaster stand, eyeing the sword. Harry had meant to send the man a message, letting him know his plan. But… "Mr. Potter."

"Headmaster…" Harry stood as tall as his eleven-year-old body could go, staring into his eyes. "Could I make an announcement?"

"Oh, for goodnes's sake." Snape hissed into his hands.

"Will it be a dangerous announcement?"

"Of course not." Only for him. Maybe.

"Then proceed."

Harry spun at the words. Standing before the great hall with a flourish, his robes billowing thanks to the twins. Here comes the eleven-year-old Casanova. "My name is Harry James Potter." He lifted the sword high into the air. "Gryffindor's proven Heir!"

Whispers from every table broke out. But this was the important part. This would make or break the school. All the research everyone had done in the library. All of it came down to this.

"The Headmaster himself can confirm this, but if anyone doubts either of us, then they must also doubt the school itself!" He swished the sword down, cutting a line through the enchanted ceiling's stormy sky, turning it into a beautiful night sky. Suits of armor flooded the Hall, marching down the left and right sides, where they all turned and slammed their weapons down, and kneeled. "I am Harry Potter, Proven Heir of Gryffindor!"

He waved his hand, and the sword disappeared. Slowly, the sets of armor stood and left. The hall erupted into shouts.

His eyes found a stunned Cassandra staring at him. Harry couldn't help himself. He waved.

All part of the plan.


Monday Afternoon- After the Common Room

Harry sat on his bed, staring at the weapon, Gryffindor's sword. Was that what Cassandra had done? Did Slytherin even have a weapon like that?

"Harry!" He glanced over at the doors where Hermione ran in, quickly flanked by Ron and Neville as well.

"Hey… guys?" He smiled cheekily.

"Don't 'hey guys' us!" Ron leaped onto his bed, pummeling him in the back good natured. "Since when were you an Heir!?

"This is amazing, Harry. Do you know all the things that an Heir can do? Especially as proven one such as yourself. Well, of course you know, you certainly showed it off downstairs!" Hermione was practically bouncing off the walls.

"Uh, this is a new thing. I kind of discovered it by accident on Saturday night with the Headmaster. I kind of just winged it downstairs, though. I'm not even sure what I did."

Everyone started shouting over each other and Harry had to scream for them to shut up. "One at a time, please."

Hermione smacked Ron on the leg with her book immediately and stared Nevile down until the boy sealed his lips. Slowly, she turned to Harry and spoke. "Being an Heir is important. Honestly, I thought it was just some tradition for wizards, but I looked it up after hearing about Ms. Gaunt. Do you know anything about being an Heir?"

"No?" Harry looked at her in confusion.

"An Heir isn't just some random student, even a potential Heir has some power, but if you're proven? If the Castle itself accepts you? You can do so much more. Open secret passages ways, order the portraits around, go into any of the common rooms. And the best of all." She seemed so giddy as she leaned forward. Harry didn't know what she would say. "You can take any book you want from the library! Even from the restricted section!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh as the other two boys snorted.

Neville took over now, "It's not just that, however. If there's one Heir, he, or she, can over rule some punishments, bring cases towards the Headmaster on behalf of the students or themselves, and call together the Board of Governors."

"What would that do?" Harry asked.

Hermione grimaced at the question, but answered. "It's only happened once in the last fifty years. And it happened last year. There was a student named Marcus Flint. Cassandra Gaunt had him expelled by bringing together the Board after the Headmaster either couldn't expel him, or refused to expel him. It wasn't specifically said which one, just that those were the two best guesses. Also, it wasn't said why he was expelled. But supposedly the boy was not liked."

"Charlie mentioned that last year." Ron said. "Yeah, during Easter Hols. Supposedly something happened to Gaunt in March and Marcus was Enemy #1 in the whole school. But no one really knew why, just that the Suits of Armor would trip him when he walked by, doors wouldn't open, and supposedly he couldn't even use the Grand Staircase."

Hermione interrupted again. "There's more that an Heir can do. They can take points, though only five at a time, give a single point, and can order around prefects."

"No wonder Gaunt always has one around her."

Harry knew that wasn't the reason, but let it be.

"It's a position on par with the Seventh Year Head Boy and Girl positions. People respect Heirs too. They hold a lot of sway, especially with alumni of the school. You can do so much."

"So much, you say…" Hary looked down at the sword. "I think I know what I should do…"

"Get books from the library?" Ron asked, only for Hermione to thwack him again.

"Actually… yeah. Hermione mind making the trip with me?"

"Oh… we have classes, though." Hermione muttered.

"How about a list, then? I'm excused until Thursday." A list, some books, and then… the world! Maybe not that far. He needed to get a letter to Avery, though, without anyone else knowing. "Ron, do you think the twins would deliver a letter for me?"


(AN: So yeah. As the Hat said, there is no Prophecy, only a warning. So let's see how that goes.)

(AN2: I made a buymeacoffee com/ jamessdo. So swing on by if you want to buy me a coffee. For the time being, it's just a place if you want to toss a few pennies my way, but eventually I might do something to where you can buy a One Shot or something. We'll see. Let me know you guy's ideas, and if you'd be interested in that sort of thing. Peace)