Title: A Very Different Harry Potter

Author: BarbedCaress

Category: Harry Potter

Genre: Adventure/Humor

Characters: Harry P., Draco M.

Summary: AU Harry first meets Draco on the train. Draco realizes how little Harry knows about the Wizarding World and the two boys hatch a plan. Meeting in secret, Draco teaches Harry all he needs to know to survive as Head of House Potter and The Boy Who Lived. No slash. Hufflepuff!Harry

Status: In-Progress

Rating: T

Chapters: 21

Words: 86,050

Updated: 2018-08-30

Published: 2015-02-25

Downloaded: 2018-09-03

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11073775/1

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer: If you recognize the character from somewhere else, I don't own it! As someone else so eloquently stated, Harry Potter and all things associated belong to JKR. She has just been nice enough to allow us to build our sand castles on her beach.

This was written as part of an ongoing creative writing class. I currently have a rough outline of the first year, with certain scenes written already. If this finds enough interest, I will continue writing it. (Sometimes I have to wonder if I have discovered HP FanFic after most people have left it behind…)
The intent is adventure/humor with political intrigue thrown in the mix.
I hope you enjoy. Please review either way!

A Very Different Harry Potter

September 1st, 1991

Harry Potter arrived at platform 9 ¾ early that morning and was now sitting on the platform admiring the gorgeous black and red engine and vintage rolling stock. There was a large black pipe sticking up from the front of the engine, like a huge black thumb. It looked like the trains in the old movies, which puffed white clouds from the top as the train barreled down the tracks, smoke which was noticeably lacking as it waited patiently for departure time. Unexpectedly, there was not a soul in sight after he navigated through the wall between platforms. If it were not for unbelievable luck, he would be in the muggle part of the station. (Harry was still not sure he liked that word, "muggle". Surely there was a better choice? Normal? Non-magical? Mundane? Civilian? Surely something better was available!) He had leaned against the wall between platforms 9 and 10 and just fell through, finding platform 9 ¾ entirely by accident. He had planned to perform for the mundanes (Harry rolled that word in his mind. Yes, he liked that word much better than 'muggle') and make a little spending money for the trip. Now he was hesitant to try to go back to the mundane section to perform, for fear he would not be able to get back onto the magical platform.

Sitting there, with time on his hands and nowhere to be, bored out of his mind, Harry looked down to find his friends in his hands again, the juggling balls. Well, they were the closest thing to friends he had ever had. Too much time on his hands always led to thinking too much…
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Three summers prior, Harry had watched as the crimson flow from his bloody nose pooled in his hand. Dudley was a monster. No. Dudley was a Freak. Born of Freaks, with the blood of Freaks in his veins. Why else had the Dursleys tried so desperately to appear 'normal'?

That day's lesson in pain had come from Dudley, but his parents were just as responsible, even if they had not thrown the punch. Vernon and Petunia had caused this with years of encouraging his behavior toward Harry, encouraging each escalation of brutality, openly laughing at his pain while chastising him for bleeding on the floor. They had caused this.

That day Dudley's temper had caused the scarlet water of life to leave his body once again, all because Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had taken him to the park a week prior. Of course, Harry had not been allowed to go. Parks were not for "freaks". "Freaks" don't associate with normal people. But Dudley went and while there he saw the street performers including mimes and jugglers. Dudley hated the mimes. They were "freaks". But the jugglers… they were interesting… almost hypnotic. But mostly they were interesting because people had thrown money into the hats in front of them. To Dudley it had seemed like a fortune! And so his scheming mind came to a brilliant conclusion, Harry. Dudley had known there was no way he could ever learn to juggle. It looked like too much work. Yet Harry was used to hard work. Harry would learn to juggle for coins in the park and then Dudley would take his money. The plan was brilliant. Foolproof! Except for one slightly inconvenient hurdle to overcome. Harry didn't know how to juggle.

Every relationship has its problems. (Dudley had heard his dad scream that at his mom once.) So, Dudley had approached Harry with his plan. Dudders used some of his own hard earned money (Okay, he had stolen the money from his mom's purse, but same thing!) and purchased a book on juggling which included three multicolored stuffed leather balls. He then presented the book to Harry and told him to learn to juggle, "Or Else."

Harry had thought this was another of Dudley's stupid, and passing, fancies. Since Harry had no interest in juggling, he had ignored the book, certain Dudley would forget it.

But Dudley had not forgotten. He had visions of Harry as his own personal ATM machine, coughing up money anytime he wanted it. So, a week later Dudley's gang had chased Harry into a corner of the neighbor's yard where Dudley threw three multicolored balls at Harry and demanded he juggle, "Or else." If there had been any doubt what "or else" meant or the seriousness of Dudley's interest in Harry developing this skill, it ended that day.

After Harry was unable to juggle, Dudley had provided incentive to learn. He punched Harry in the nose, giving him a bloody nose and a dawning appreciation of how badly he needed to learn to juggle.
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"Oh well", Harry thought, "I survived. I escaped. And hey, now I can juggle." So, he tucked away his juggling balls and dragged his trunk full of school supplies to the last passenger car, occupied the rearmost compartment, stored his trunk in the overhead, and settled in to wait for the train to leave … many hours from now.

While waiting, Harry pulled out three balls with which to practice. He practiced a lot, all the time it seemed. His reflexes made learning easy and picking up new cascades wasn't as bad as some jugglers seemed to think. Harry really liked it when crowds applauded for him. It was the only form of affection he had ever known. It was the proof he was not a "waste of skin" as Uncle Vernon liked to tell him. But Harry had learned quickly, with Dudley's unique brand of incentive, you cannot make money unless you are doing something most people can't do. And you can't make a lot of money unless you are doing something no one else can do. So, he spent his time watching the other jugglers when he could, making sure he could do everything he saw them do. Then he practiced and practiced and practiced. He would start running variations, weaving basic throws and catches into the more complex patterns. In less than a year Harry was creating new patterns so complex the other park jugglers could not steal his tricks. And Harry continued to practice. Juggling had become a meditation exercise for him. The stresses of the world fled from the brightly colored cascading balls.

As he became aware of the surroundings, Harry realized he was juggling six balls now (He always carried at least eight) in a basic fountain, each hand independently juggling three balls with no crossing. He could almost do this in his sleep. After he received his Hogwart's letter, he wondered if his magic was helping him. Most jugglers he knew, could not do this as easily or as long as Harry could. Or maybe it was like another juggler said, Harry had really good reflexes and was young enough to pick up new muscle memory easily. Either way, Harry did it for the best reason possible, he liked it.

Crossing the balls into a cascade, each ball making the rounds of each hand, was easy. Or it would have been until the door opened unexpectedly. Harry's startled reaction caused a bit too much 'umph' in the current toss and hit the intruder directly between the eyes! Harry apologized profusely as he caught and put away the remaining balls. Hitting a member of the audience was absolute taboo! Being startled was never an excuse. There was never any acceptable excuse for that! Harry's face turned crimson as he began apologizing profusely.

Draco Malfoy, scion of House Malfoy, was very confused. He intended to open the compartment and claim it for his own. No sooner had the door opened than he gets hit between the eyes by a bright red ball and accosted by a boy trying desperately to apologize for hitting him. The sight of someone apologizing profusely was not unknown to Draco. He had seen this many times with his father. But he had never been struck. It was rather bewildering in its uniqueness. As Draco attempted to determine how to respond, he touched his forehead where he had been struck. No blood. No swelling. No tenderness. Other than shock value, the object seemed to have left no mark.

Draco decided to take his father's approach, haughty. "Who are you?" with a condescending sneer.

"I am Harry, Harry Potter." Harry held out his hand in greeting.

Draco was confused again, twice in as many minutes. This is the student his father wanted him to befriend, yet he was attacked without cause by the boy. 'What would father do?' Draco wondered. 'Turn it to his advantage, of course!'

Draco smiled and took Harry's hand in greeting, "I am Draco Malfoy. This is my first year at Hogwarts and I am traveling alone. Let me share your compartment and your company for the ride and we will call it even. Acceptable?"

Feeling relieved to get off scot-free, Harry quickly agreed.

Draco left to get his possessions and to tell Crabbe and Goyle to find somewhere else to sit for the train ride. He would meet them again at the Slytherin table, certain they would all be sorted into Slytherin.

Returning to the compartment with Harry, Draco began the conversation. "Let's begin again, a bit less 'energetically'", Draco smiled and extended his hand again. "I am Draco Malfoy of the Ancient House of Malfoy, heir apparent and pureblood. And you are?"

Harry took Draco's hand and holding it firmly, pumped it three times as he had seen on TV, answering, "I am Harry Potter. Just Harry Potter. What does 'pureblood' mean"?

Draco's eyes grew large and he felt his confusion returning, but decided to respond quickly, "Pureblood means your parents were magical, their parents were magical, as were theirs, for as far back as it can be traced. Anything less than three generations of magical ancestry is looked upon with suspicion. Anything more than fifteen generations on at least one side is usually seen as an Ancient House. Thirty generations is considered a Most Ancient House. Claiming anything more than thirty is just bragging."
Harry thought about it. "So, your family is Ancient. So how many generations back can you count? Is it rude to ask that? If so, please ignore the question." Harry stammered toward the end.

"The question is only considered rude among those who are marginal. Otherwise, it is like asking someone how tall they are, a request for a statement of fact. The Malfoys can count sixteen generations of magical individuals as my ancestors, granting us Ancient House status." Draco drew himself up as if reciting a lesson.

Harry being extremely good with numbers, quickly ran the sums in his head, "That is roughly 130,000 people in your lineage, back to 16 generations, the 16th generation comprising roughly 65 thousand people." Harry's eyes brighten as he exclaimed, "Cousin!"

Draco sighed, "Yes, 'cousin'. Your grandmother, Dorea Black, was the sister of my great-grandfather, Pollux Black, making you my second cousin, once removed. As you have obviously inferred, we are all related at some level. In fact, although most pureblood families would deny this on their deathbed, most muggle families who have been in the United Kingdom more than ten generations are probably related to us also. The pureblood families avoid diluting the magic with non-magical pairings, to produce more magically powerful offspring."

Draco stops suddenly, a terrifying thought, an impossible thought manifesting and forcing itself to the fore. Draco began again slowly, "Harry… you should know this. You should know ALL of this. You are the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble House." Draco remains silent, watching Harry.

Harry looks embarrassed as he replies, "I only found out about magic a month ago. I was raised believing my parents died in a car crash because they were drunk."

Draco gets a very bad feeling as he asks, "Who raised you? Whoever raised you should have told you about magic, your birthright, and prepared you for your responsibilities as Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

Harry shook his head angrily, "No. They hated magic and everything to do with it. They tried to "beat the freakiness" out of me. I know almost nothing about magic or the magical world."

Draco sits astonished and with dawning horror. Everyone has been waiting for the return of Harry Potter, the Champion of the Light, the Vanquisher of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Heir (and now Head) of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, familiar with the politics and traditions of Wizarding Britain. THAT Harry Potter doesn't exist! This is bad, really, REALLY bad! You might as well push Harry down a slide of sandpaper and broken glass into a pool of sharks. His every move will be seen as though he knows exactly what everyone else knows he knows, instead of as a complete novice. Harry will give offense to everyone, unintentionally. Blood feuds might well start. Old alliances would surely fall. This is the very definition of BAD!

"Harry, listen very carefully," Draco said with sudden intensity and obvious concern, "You are in deep trouble. Everyone assumes you know what you are supposed to know. EVERY comment you make, gesture, look, who you talk to, what you say; EVERYTHING is going to be analyzed for hidden meaning. You are the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. You ARE Potter of Potter and everyone will expect you to know it and act like it."

Harry sits stunned. His mind momentarily blanks as the enormity of Draco's words sink in.

"I can't do it. No way. I need to find a dark hole and someone to teach me and not come out for however long it takes to learn this, probably ten years at least!" Harry exclaims.

Draco smirks, "They won't let you do that. If you had magical guardians raising you, you could apply for an exception to attending Hogwarts and be tutored at home. But with muggles raising you…" a look of sincere sympathy meets Harry's gaze, "… there is no chance they will grant that exception."

Draco thinks in silence for a few minutes before coming to a decision, "Harry, I can help you. There is no way to give you the amount of information you should have absorbed over the last ten years, but I can give you enough to fake it and not offend anyone. Do you trust me to help you?"

Harry has a sudden sense of dread, "What is in it for you?"

Draco smiles mischievously, "That is the beginning of what you need to learn! Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, is going to have some hidden purpose when they deal with you. Get used to it and get over it. It is just the way it is. What is in it for me? At the very least, you will owe me a very large favor. With luck, you and I can become friends. Best case scenario, we become lifelong friends and allies. And all it costs me is a little of my time and some knowledge that everyone who is anyone already has. For an extremely small cost, I could receive an immense reward. Does that answer your question?" Draco's grin reminds Harry of advertisements of children on Christmas morning, all expectation and delight. Draco continues, "And for a first question, that was excellent. You show promise! Always be suspicious. Always consider everything from all angles. Always try to find the advantage. While this may be a point of personal pride, remember, you are no longer "just you". You are now Potter of Potter. Your actions will be felt by your children, grandchildren, etc. Think of yourself as the headwaters of a river. Everything flows from you. As long as you don't get yourself killed before you have children, of course!" Draco added with a laugh.

Harry ponders, but this is a non-decision. If Draco is lying to him, then this is a great prank and will be brought to light later. If not, Draco is throwing him a lifeline in a sea of political sharks. The chance Draco is telling the truth is more than worth the risk of being thought the fool later if he is not.

Harry sticks out his hand again, thinking he had never shaken anyone's hand this many times, and offered, "Friendship for knowledge. Deal."

Draco smiled, shook the offered hand thinking his father would be proud, and said, "Deal".

After that point, Draco took over the conversation and Harry started his Hogwarts education several hours early.

(So, what do you think? Should I continue? Either way, thank you for your reviews.)
(This is also my first story published on FFN. If I mess it up, I will try to fix it, even if I have to delete and resubmit.)

Chapter 2: Chapter 2 Lessons to Learn

Disclaimer: Still not my characters. Still playing in JKR's sandbox. Twisted plot is mine and that is about it. Enjoy!

Chapter Two

Draco realized he had a golden opportunity. He could mold Harry Potter into a profitable tool… erm… ally. All he had to do was to prove his value to Potter, maneuver him into a plausible position to allow him to remain friendly publically, and continue to guide him from the shadows. Piece of cake for a Slytherin.

With Harry watching his every move, Draco began to realize the monumental task he had set himself, to teach Harry Potter, THE Harry Potter, enough to fake his Head of Household responsibilities in a group raised on duty and obligation. It was not possible. That 'piece of cake' was made of stone… well, Carrara marble. Appearances must be maintained.

So… he had to cheat.

Draco smiled at Harry and Harry began to be worried about what his teacher was thinking.

Draco leaned back against the window, looking at Harry. He had decided on how to start cutting down on the amount of information Harry needed to know immediately. His father would be proud.

"Ok", Draco began," The first thing you need to realize about 'faking it', is most of the time people will help you. They know what they expect you to know. As long as you do nothing to contradict their expectation, they will continue to believe you know everything they think you know. Even if you do contradict their expectations, if you give them the slightest reason to, they will believe you have done it on purpose to test them! Sadly, the average wizard is painfully stupid."

Harry's brows furrowed deeply as he considers this. It was very similar to things Uncle Vernon had told his cousin, while attempting to teach him the family business. "Just remember Dudders, everyone is an idiot. A salesman's job is to make sure the mark doesn't know you know he is an idiot until after you have his money. If you do your job right, he will never know. That way he will come back, give you his money and thank you for the privilege." Yeah, this sounded suspiciously like Uncle Vernon. Maybe his uncle was smarter than Harry had thought…

Draco waited for Harry to process his words of wisdom. "Do you understand?" he prompted.

Harry nodded slowly, but the furrows were gone, so Draco accepted this and moved on.

"Other things you must know. There are three major political divisions in our world, poorly referred to as; Dark, Grey, and Light. There are many sub-groups in each of these groups. We are going to ignore those for the rest of this trip. It would take too long to give you enough information to not embarrass yourself. Speaking of…"

Draco stands and invites Harry to stand also. "This is a training technique. It is not pleasant, but it is effective. You must be able to mask your emotions. NEVER let anyone know when you are upset, angry or worried. Sometimes even letting people know you are happy is dangerous, but it is generally less dangerous to let people know you are happy. Anger must always be masked. It can, and eventually will, be used against you. Do you understand?"

Harry clearly remembered Uncle Vernon using Harry's facial expressions as reasons to punish him. He had learned to school his expressions early on. Who knew Uncle Vernon was teaching him valuable life lessons? Harry nodded.

"This is normally done with wands and pain curses, to prevent bruising or accidental broken bones." Draco pulls his left sleeve above his elbow, takes a deep breath and looks Harry in the eyes. Presenting his left arm, palm up, Draco orders, "Pinch me."

Harry is understandably confused and slow to respond.

"Harry, pinch my arm, HARD, and watch my face."

Harry didn't really want to, but it seemed important to Draco so he reached out, grabbed a tiny bit of Draco's forearm, pinched it firmly and then twisted it hard. Harry knew how to pinch. Another lesson he could thank Uncle Vernon for.

Draco was surprised Harry pinched him so hard on the first try. Most people would have to be bludgeoned into it. Not Harry. Draco tensed and curled his toes as he had been taught, digging his great toe into the tiny metal spike installed just for this purpose. He focused on the pain in his toe and the tension in his foot, letting the pain in his arm get lost in the background noise.

Harry watched Draco's face carefully as he twisted. Draco's face never twitched. Only a slight change in the light on his eyes showed any change at all. His face could have been carved of stone. After a second, Harry stopped pinching Draco and waited for Draco to pinch him. It was obvious he would be next. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, blanking his mind of hope or desire. He put forth his left arm and waited.

Draco was impressed. Harry not only pinched him hard the first time, but had correctly determined he would be pinched next. Looking Harry in the eye, "You must control your emotions. I will pinch you now." Draco reached forward and grasped an inch of skin along the tender inside of Harry's forearm and pinched and twisted hard. When Harry did not show any emotion, Draco twisted harder, and then as hard as he could. Harry looked at him with a totally blank face, as if he did not exist. Draco released Harry's arm and stepped back to regroup.

"Impressive, Potter. It took me months to learn that level of control. How did you do it?"

Harry smirked, "You are not my first teacher in this subject."

Draco gave a quick shudder as he considered the implications of that comment.

'If those muggles were responsible for this, if they were the reason Harry had a level of emotional control most Slytherin first years would sell their grandmothers to achieve and if Harry became his ally at some point in the future, then someone was going to have a long series of really bad days.' Draco thought.

Shaking his head free of those thoughts Draco continued, "This may be easier than I had thought. Please, sit." Draco returned to his corner seat, back into the corner, watching the door and Harry equally.

"Look at me. Do what I do." Draco raised his eyebrow and tilted his head back slightly. The overall effect was clear. Draco was looking down his nose at Harry. Draco waited and watched as Harry repeated his expression. "Excellent! Now, how did you feel, being on the receiving end of that look?"

Harry thought briefly, "I felt like you didn't like me. More like you thought I was beneath you."

Draco smiled, "Exactly. How about this?"

Draco repeated the previous expressions but added a half curled lip.

"It looks like you stepped in something unpleasant and are trying to decide whether to have it cleaned or just throw the show away." Harry commented thoughtfully.

Draco grinned, "Exactly! You seem skilled at reading body language. Who was your teacher?"

Harry dropped his eyes for a moment, "My Uncle's moods required forewarning. I learned quickly."

It was as Draco had feared. Not that it was that much different from what his father had done to him. But his father had done it deliberately, to train his son to survive the coming darkness; survive and prosper. But Harry's uncle was a muggle. Allowing this to go unpunished would set a bad precedent. Yes, Harry's family would be receiving a belated lesson. Maybe not soon, but the appointment was unavoidable at this point. Only the date was left to be determined.

"An interesting training method. I must look into that in the future." Draco smiled. "But that is a side thought for the moment. Attempt the expression I just gave you. Good. Be sure to narrow the eye opposite the raised eyebrow. It adds to the effect. Watch."

Draco demonstrated the variations and Harry could clearly see the difference.

"Try it again," Draco ordered. As Harry was giving his best sneer Draco added, "Oh by the way, the entire wizarding world knows your mother is a slut. Shame really. Still she is, oops, sorry, WAS a mudblood. They are not good for much except a quick shag and then only if your hand is injured."

Draco watched Harry carefully as he became obviously angry.

"There! That! DON'T DO THAT!" Draco said loudly. "Your enemies are going to try to provoke you. A dead mother is a gift on a silver platter. You can be certain someone will try it. If you react like that… EVERYONE will try it. Well, everyone who wants to hurt you. You must never let anger show. Do you understand? Knowledge is power. Do Not Give Away Knowledge! Understand?"

Harry nodded quickly.

Draco continued, "Now, WITHOUT that deep breath you like to take, control yourself. Blank your face. Smile. When you can't smile is when you are going to need to the most. One day it could literally be the difference between life and death. Make yourself go cold, emotionless. Make the anger obey you, not the other way around. After you have it under control, think of something to make you smile. If it makes you happy, imagine the bastard in front of you screaming as you break his bones one by one. Then smile. That was not a hypothetical, Potter. Smile. NOW!"

Harry's face had gone blank during Draco's comments. Now he imagined a spell that would make Dudley look and sound like him. The mere idea of Dudley having to put up with even one day of the hell Harry lived through made him smile.

Draco shuddered. Whatever Harry was thinking of, was pure evil. No one smiled like that because of a happy thought. But, this could be useful.

"Harry, whatever you are thinking, remember it. That smile is frightening. When you get some years and training under you, that smile will be terrifying. Remember it. Use it. Now try for a happy thought. A thought that will generate a warm smile. Think of your best friend and the most fun you ever had."

Harry's face slowly broke into a genuine grin, warm and happy.

"So, what did you think of? Who is your best friend?"

Harry chuckled, "I only have one friend in the entire world."

Draco looked confused. How could someone his age have only one friend? "Who is it? Must be a muggle, since you only just learned about the wizarding world."

"Nope," Harry grinned wider. "My only friend in the world is you. You have shown me more affection than anyone I have ever met. You are the only one who has ever tried to help me stay out of trouble. You are the only one who has ever given me the time of day."

Draco was speechless, literally. He could not process how Harry's statement could possibly be true. That raised his opinion of Harry's muggles from 'negligent muggles' to 'abusive muggles'. Yes. This would be corrected, whether Harry ever became a formal ally or not. When this story comes out, and it is certain it will someday, it will seem muggles can abuse wizard children without consequence. However, by the time this story comes out, these muggles will already be a cautionary tale.

"I am happy to give you a reason to smile. But NEVER say that again. Let everyone think you have loads of friends in the muggle world, at least until you have made more friends in the wizarding world. We are trying to portray you as a powerful, knowledgeable Head of House. Only having one friend, a friend you only just met at that, will paint you as 'pathetic' and 'loser'. At this point, Harry, image is more important than reality."

Draco's next words are lost as he pulls his wand and points it at the opening compartment door.

A harried-looking, bushy-haired girl is standing there with her mouth open as she holds very still, looking at the wand pointed at her.

Draco has his public face on, the perpetual sneer, as he asks, "Well? What do you want?"

Hermione stammered, "A boy lost his toad. Have you seen it?"

Draco smiled, "No we have not seen the young man's toad." He puts away his wand as he rises and walks to Hermione. "My apologies for my rude behavior. I was expecting someone else. I am Draco Malfoy, scion and presumptive heir of the Ancient House of Malfoy." Draco extended his hand, "and you are?"

Hermione was amazed at the rapid change in the situation. At first it seemed she was about to be cursed, just for opening a door! Now this young gentleman had apologized and was formally introducing himself. Taking his hand tentatively, Hermione replied, "Hermione Granger." For a moment it seemed Draco grimaced, yet his smile became even larger as he turned his wrist, bowing and bringing her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her hand gently.

As Draco stood, before releasing her hand, "If you should ever have trouble during the coming year, remember my name." smiling brightly.

Hermione stammered, "Yes, well, umm, I need to find that toad. Please excuse me." She seemed slightly in a daze as she left the compartment.

Draco turned to Harry. "That is how you do it. Ms. Granger is a mudblood. I would as soon swim in sewage as touch her. Yet, I did so as a lesson to you. Notice how she left? She believes she has made a friend. She thinks if she gets in trouble I will help her. I told her to "remember my name". That is all. No promise of aid was given. That is a VERY important point, Harry. As Head of House, your word carries weight, a lot of weight. Breaking your word is an extremely bad precedent to set. It will haunt you all your days. So, make sure your words are EXACTLY what you mean and nothing more."

Harry opens his mouth to ask what a "mudblood" is, but is interrupted by the door sliding open with a bang. A redheaded, pale skinned, freckled boy about his age barged in.

"A bushy haired girl said Harry Potter was in here", the redhead said, staring at Harry.

Draco stood calmly and pulled himself up, sneered at the redhead, then turned to Harry, "And this is an example of how those without manners behave. Judging by his hair, complexion, and the state of his robes, not to mention his manners, I assume he is a Weasley. Given his apparent age, Ronald Weasley is most likely, the sixth or is it the seventh son of Molly Prewitt and Arthur Weasley. The Weasley's all get sorted into Gryffindor, the home of the brave… and stupid. Well, that was a bit harsh. Foolhardy is a better term. They charge into the fray without considering consequences, without a plan, hoping everything will work out."

Ron reached out and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him off the seat and obviously intending to pull him out of the compartment. "Come on Harry. You don't need to stay here with this filthy Slytherin. All dark wizards come from Slytherin, just ask anyone!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry, waiting.

Ron expected Harry to welcome him. This wasn't going according to expectation. Harry needed rescuing from the foul Slytherin git and Ron was going to rescue him, whether he wanted it or not. Harry would thank him later.

Ron pulled again, "Come on! Harry, you have to know some wizarding families are much worse than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there!" Ron pulled again, harder.

Harry saw the look on Draco's face. It was obvious this was a test, to see if Draco's hasty lessons had been understood. Ron didn't seem to want to harm him, but his persistence was more than annoying. Harry planted his feet and swung his arm in a large circle, breaking Ron's hold on his arm. Apparently Dudley had taught him valuable lessons also. Who would have guessed?

Harry blanked his face and addressed Ron imperiously, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Harry drew himself up to his full height before addressing the sputtering Weasley again, "Who are you to lay hands on the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter?"

Ron was confused. This was not going as expected. Harry had invoked Head of House status! Oh, this was not going to be good. There was a howler in his near future…

Ron stuttered, "Um, I just, I was, I mean".

Harry saw Draco smirk, so he decided to add a bit of fuel to the fire, "Who is your Head of House, Weasley?" Harry added a sneer as he tilted his head back to look down his nose at Ron.

Draco was impressed. True, Ron Weasley was just an eleven year old boy, but he was pure blood, so he knew the protocols even if he refused to follow them. He knew just how much trouble he had gotten into. Harry was learning quickly. Draco smiled, knowing it would set Weasley off. Time for another lesson. This would be painful, but without pain, there is no progress.

Ron saw Draco smile and desperate to divert attention from the boat load of trouble he had just gotten into, he snarled at Draco, "This is your fault! What have you done to Harry?"

Draco sneered (it was his best expression, having practiced it endlessly before his mirror), "I have done nothing to Harry. We were having a quiet conversation until you barged in to 'save him'. That is what you think you are doing, right? Saving him from 'this filthy Slytherin'? It is plain to see you are not the brains of the family. Thank Merlin for that. Your brothers are all much smarter than you, aren't they? And that sister of yours... Well, at least she is a pureblood. She can at least be useful as breeding stock to an older and wealthier pureblood House. You should get at least a few galleons as a bride price. Then your father should be able to buy you new robes. Assuming she is a virgin. She is a virgin, right Ron? You haven't been 'fishing in the family pond', have you? I think that is the-".

Whatever Draco planned to say next was lost as Ron crashed into him, spilling them both to the ground. Draco curled up, covering his face and ears with his arms and hands while drawing his legs up to protect his tender bits.

Harry watched as Ron bowled Draco to the ground and was sitting on him preparing to pummel him. Shaking himself free of his momentary paralysis, Harry planned to pull Ron off. Which is why he was so stunned when Ron suddenly disappeared from the fight. Looking toward the door Harry saw Ron being shaken soundly by what had to be his older brother.

"But Percy," Ron shouted "That damn Slytherin git was saying awful things about Ginny!"

Percy looked sternly at Draco, being helped to his feet by Harry. Percy said, "Did you speak poorly about Ginny?" Percy seemed to be at war with himself, but maintained an even tone.

Draco replied with disdain, "I did nothing of the sort and resent the implication made by this person. He was the aggressor here. I only stated facts. Your sister is pureblood and, if virgin, could be betrothed to a wealthy pureblood House for the purpose of increasing genetic diversity in their next generation. I also mentioned Ronald might get new robes from the situation."

Percy's lips drew into a tight line before replying, "I can't take points from your House, as you are yet to be sorted. However you both will have detentions for fighting."

Harry has stunned. Why would Draco get a detention for fighting? He had not fought!

"Percy Weasley" Harry began, "Draco did not retaliate to your brother's attack. He raised neither hand nor foot against Ronald Weasley's attack. Why is Draco being punished?"

Draco had planned to raise these same questions to his godfather, Professor Snape, when he reached Hogwarts. But Harry raising them now had some potential to offer further options.

Percy drew himself up and looked down his nose at Harry, "I do not have to defend my decisions to an unsorted student, especially one not directly involved in the event. Are you involved? Did you strike either participant?" Percy was sure that would shut up this kid. Who was he anyway?

Harry knew that look. Draco had taught it to him not two hours ago. Harry smiled internally. This might be fun. Sneering as contemptuously as he could at Percy, Harry replied, "No I did not strike anyone. Yes, I am directly involved, since your brother was attempting to kidnap me. What are the penalties available to a Head of House when an attempted kidnapping is prevented and the criminal captured? That boy" Harry indicated Ron with a flick of his chin, "used physical force in an attempt to remove me from this compartment against my will. Draco Malfoy, heir presumptive of the Ancient House of Malfoy, attempted to aid me by distracting this criminal. As you saw when you entered and apprehended the culprit, his distraction was quite effective. And now you want to punish Draco Malfoy for coming to my aid? … I think not."

Harry turned to Draco, standing as tall as he could, using his most dignified voice, enunciating each word carefully stated, "I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, offer you Draco Malfoy, scion and heir presumptive of the Ancient House of Malfoy, the protection of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

Draco closed his eyes tightly, thinking 'Oh crap!'.

A loud thump caused Draco to open his eyes to see Harry awaiting his answer, Ronald Weasley unconscious on the floor, and Percy standing with his jaw hanging open and eyes as wide as saucers.

AN: Harry is trying to help. He has NO IDEA what a big mess he just created! (I told you I was aiming for humor!) This is the last major event prior to sorting. Next chapter, Draco will try to explain to Harry what he REALLY offered! And will end with Harry being sorted. Hope you all enjoyed this! Review and let me know what you think, please.

Chapter 3: Paper Tiger

AN: Sorry this took so long to post. I got my first review from my fellow students in the creative writing class. He commented on chapter one, exactly as I posted it here. And, he did not like it, not even a little bit. It took the heart out of my desire to write anything which anyone else would read. My daughter pointed out my stupidity. (She is brilliant like that!) I have proof that at least a few people like what I wrote. So, instead of waiting for my heart to be in it again, I will start writing what I have outlined and see if I can find my heart along the way.

Standard disclaimer: Nope. I am not JKR writing under an absurd pen name. Nor am I anyone who could successfully claim in a court of law that I own even the tiniest piece of JKRs fictional universe. The sandbox is entirely hers. She is just nice enough to allow us to build sandcastles on her beach.

Chapter 3

Paper Tiger

"Oh crap!" Draco's thoughts raced. He took a deep breath to gain a moment before responding. He wanted to set Harry up as a power block, for his personal benefit. He needed Harry to be strong, proud, and regal even. Accepting Harry's offer would do all of that and more! Yet, it would also place obligations upon Draco… and since Harry offered it to "the scion and heir presumptive of the Ancient House of Malfoy" accepting would also have serious and far reaching obligations for House Malfoy, so he could not accept. But, if he didn't accept, then he would be seriously weakening Harry's position in the Wizarding world and in Hogwarts. And all this before they even got off the blasted train!

Standing with a perfect posture only countless hours of 'finishing' can provide, Draco pushed the first pebble which might lead to the avalanche which would destroy him politically. "The Ancient House of Malfoy recognizes the protection offered to Draco Malfoy, scion and heir presumptive, by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. I, Draco Malfoy, ask Harry Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, to hold this most appreciated offer of protection in abeyance until the merits of the case against myself are determined and I have the opportunity to discuss this with my Head of House, Lucius Malfoy." Draco waited, still as a statue, not daring to breathe, hoping Harry would realize he had screwed up and this was the safest course forward!

Harry listened intently as Draco replied, trying to apply the lessons Draco was trying to teach him. He needed more time! Harry thought furiously, "Draco said most of the time people would help you 'fake it'. So do little and let them read into it what they thought he knew, when he actually knew almost nothing… and what the hell does 'abeyance' mean? From the context it seemed like 'held in case of need', but surely that couldn't be it. Well, will just have to assume it is something close to that and muddle on. Draco didn't take the offer, but he didn't reject it either. So he is taking a neutral stance. So, I should do likewise! Damn, politics makes my head hurt!"

While Harry was deciding the correct course of action, based on the very limited instruction by Draco and his many years of learning to read body language or suffer, Ronald Weasley remained unconscious and oblivious to the world as he was completely ignored.

Percy Weasley was wondering what the hell had just happened here! Ron apparently laid hands on Harry Potter, THE Harry Potter. Head of House or not, that is more trouble than Percy was ready to deal with without a Professor to back him up.

Harry looked at Draco and gave the most regal nod he could, trying to imitate the royalty he glimpsed now and then on TV. Turning to Percy, Harry attempted to channel his uncle, "Why are you are still here. Get out and take that…" pausing for effect and to perfect his sneer, "… boy… with you."

Percy looked down, remembering Ron at last. He reached down and slapped the back of Ron's head a few times as Ronald slowly rejoined the conscious world. "Get up." Percy began man-handling Ron out the door, closing it behind him, before pushing Ron down the passageway. The last Draco and Harry heard was Ron whining, "But Harry is still in there! We have to…"

Blessed silence reigned as Harry turned to Draco, "So, how badly did I screw up?"

The rest of Harry's train ride was uninterrupted as Draco tried to teach him … everything.

Draco continued, "Harry, remember, EVERYTHING you do has consequences you will be unlikely to predict. Think of it as ripples in a lake. Every time you do anything, you are throwing a rock in the lake. Imagine it is night and only a part of the lake is visible. If you know what you are doing, then you are throwing rocks in the part you can see and watching the ripples. If you are good at politics, you are throwing rocks in the lit part and then throwing rocks in other parts, deliberately causing certain waves to cancel each other out, while other waves are magnified, all right where you want them."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry interrupted, "What if you are really good at politics?"

Draco grinned, "Then you plan the waves where you can't see and don't bother to throw the stones, since someone will just happen to do exactly what you want, when you want, entirely coincidentally."

Harry thought for a moment, "Ok, that's scary."

Draco's grin broadened, "Yes, yes it is. Very few people will ever reach that level of power. It is as much luck as connections at that point. But there are many people with the power to make things happen with a word in the right ear, a heavy sigh at dinner followed by 'I wish I could, but my attention is being diverted by these accursed zoning laws. As soon as I get that taken care of, I will help you with your problem'. By the way, that is a blunt and crass example. But that person might suddenly find his zoning issues resolve. See the point?"

Harry nodded, "Power. It is all about power."

Draco nodded, "Indeed. And there are all types of power."

Harry closed his eyes in thought for a moment saying, "Like the brute force of my cousin or that redhead who tried to pull me out. Like the power to incite your adversary to act against his best interest, like you did with Weasley." Harry opened his eyes looking at Draco intently.

Draco laughed, "Exactly! So, why did I provoke Weasley? Can you tell me?"

Harry smiled, "It was a lesson, a practical demonstration of what you told me earlier. Don't let people see you angry. If you do, they will use it against you. You let him attack you as a lesson to me." Harry frowned. "That was not necessary."

Draco saw a hint of the man Harry would one day become. He would be a power to be reckoned with, eventually. But not today.

Draco shrugged, "I had to make sure you never forgot that lesson. It is far too important. By the way, you did very well with your response to my request for more time. How did you decide on what to do?"

Harry smiled evilly, "I figured this was another test, that I had screwed up and this was a chance to correct it. I remembered your lesson about everyone helping you fake what you don't know, so I decided to do as little as possible and allow them to read as much as they wanted into it." Harry's smile was now rather smug.

Draco laughed, "I wish you had known what you were doing. It would have been so much funnier! Ok, here is what they saw. You asserted yourself as Head of House and acted within that remit to provide protection to another House. They will see this as a strong indication Potter and Malfoy will become friendly and might eventually become allies. I guarantee, before they walked into this compartment, neither Weasley would have placed a bet on that happening, no matter the odds you gave them!"

Draco continued, "THEN you accused Ronald Weasley of attempted kidnapping of a Head of House. The penalties for that are severe! You could have House Weasley in fealty to House Potter if you wanted. It was obvious Ronald was clueless, but Percy knew exactly what his brother had done and how much trouble he had caused, all before he even stepped off the train!"

Draco face became solemn, "Harry, you need to know this. You are a paper tiger."

Harry looked confused.

Draco explained, "Yes, you are the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. You are THE Potter of Potter. You have a seat on the Wizengamot, (which you should not even consider taking yet!) You are a Lord, both in the magical world and the muggle world. But… you are a house of one. When you offered me protection, you put all of House Potter in defense of me. All of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter is you. You effectively told Weasley you would stand as my sword and shield against the entire world, if the need arose. If I thought you knew what you were doing, I would be touched. Knowing you are absolutely clueless, made it funny… in a very dark, morbid, 'let the world burn around my ears while I fiddle' sort of humor. If I had rebuffed you openly, it would have diminished your claim as Head of House. We are trying to set you up as a politically desirable ally for everyone. So I could not refuse your offer. But if I had accepted… that would have been worse. As heir of House Malfoy, I can enter into agreements of this type, which bind my entire House. My father could abolish the agreement, but only by disowning me. Since I am my father's only son, that would have been unlikely. More likely, you would have had an 'accident', thereby maintaining the Honor of House Malfoy and removing any inconvenient entanglements."

Harry's eyes had grown steadily larger as Draco told him just how badly he had screwed up.

Draco leaned over and clasped one hand on Harry's shoulder, "Don't worry so much. You are going to make mistakes. You are going to make a lot of mistakes. The key point is to make sure you recognize and correct them as quickly as you did today. Keep that up for the next hundred years or so and you can retire without worrying about who is trying to kill you."

Harry shook his head rapidly, "So, if I am extremely lucky, never lose my edge and always pay attention to everything at once, in a hundred years I can retire without someone trying to kill me in my retirement. That seems… harsh."

Draco laughed, "That is not what I said. I said if you do all those things you won't have to worry about who is trying to kill you. You will know who is trying to kill you. And since you need to repopulate the Potter line, hopefully you will live to have hundreds of grandchildren and the pleasure of hearing that all your enemies have died in terrible and highly improbable accidents which cannot be connected to you."

Harry couldn't help it and started laughing. Between gasping breaths he managed to say, "You seem… to have put… some… thought into this…" still unable to catch his breath.

Draco just smiled and nodded. "It is one of my most pleasant fantasies."

Draco gently slaps Harry on the face, "Come, come. We have much left to discuss. I have told you a little about politics and the Wizarding world, now we have to discuss Hogwarts itself. I wish we had more time…"

The trip from the train to the castle was uneventful, although Weasley glared at Harry and Draco from another boat. So many whispers carried over the water. New students trying to guess what House they would be in or how they would be sorted. Who was the idiot who said they had to wrestle a troll? Some people will believe anything! Fortunately Draco had told him how the sorting worked, even though it was supposed to be a secret. Draco seemed to know a lot of secrets.

Professor McGonagall attempted to intimidate the new students while they lined up outside the great hall, but she was a pale imitation of Aunt Petunia. Since Harry was pretty sure McGonagall would not lock him in a boot closet, he was not really impressed, instead spending his time looking at the ghosts who happened through.

As the firsties filed in, Draco gave Harry a reassuring nod and a discrete thumbs up.

Draco was sorted into Slytherin, just as he said he would be. The bushy haired girl went to Ravenclaw.

As McGonagall prepared to call Harry's name, she heard herself say quite clearly, "Lord Harry Potter". The Professor looked around in shock as Harry confidently stepped forward to the stool and hat. Dumbledore looked at Harry, then Minerva with a questioning look, which she answered with a shrug and a minute shake of her head. Dumbledore sighed before he nodded for his assistant to continue. 'This would cause complications,' he thought.

Harry sat on the stool, back erect as he closed his eyes and waited as Professor McGonagall placed the sorting hat on his head. As he waited, his left hand reached under the stool seat to palm the sickle Draco had stuck there when he had his turn.

"Yes, at last 'Lord' Potter. Clever trick. The Headmaster is already confused and annoyed and you are not even sorted yet. Even the twins waited until after the first feast. Well done!"

Harry's eyes flashed open at 'hearing' the hat in his mind, before closing them once more. "I did nothing."

"Yes, and a pretty bit of nothing she was too. Ah, here it is… you are getting advice from Draco Malfoy. That explains much, including how you knew which third year Slytherin has a near perfected impersonation of McGonagall's voice. Clever boy. Well, let's see where we shall place you, shall we? Brave enough to pull Dumbledore's beard the first night. Impressive. You could do well in Gryffindor."

Harry shook his head, "No. That Weasley kid is going to Gryffindor. All the Weasleys go there. I don't want to be in his house. Not Gryffindor"

"Very well. I see Draco has been teaching you. Oh so many things and you learned them all so quickly. Yes, you could do well in Ravenclaw too."

Harry responded slower this time, "Ravenclaw would not be a bad house, but I think another might be better for me. Don't you?"

The sorting hat chuckled, "Indeed. You are very cunning and resourceful. Hmmm… what is this? Oh… Dursleys… Don't worry. I won't tell anyone what I see. I can't. It is part of my enchantment. But I see clearly why you are so cunning and resourceful. The Dursleys could hardly have produced anything else. So, I guess we know where you belong…"

The sorting hat announced loudly, "Better Be…"

"WAIT" Harry thought as loudly as he could. "There is another option, one I would prefer."

The hat's laughter echoed through Harry's mind.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

*crickets*

Harry pulled off the hat, placed it on the stool and bowed politely to it, "Thank you."

Walking to the firstie end of the Hufflepuff table, there was not a sound. No one clapped. Not a single breath was heard.

Until, from the head table, Pomona Sprout squeaked, "We got Potter?"

And with those three words, the silence was broken. Polite clapping from the Ravenclaws. Groans of disbelief from Gryffindor. Welcoming calls and smiles from Hufflepuff, greeting their newest (and most famous) house mate.

And from Slytherin… silence, broken only by Draco's incredulous, "WHAT?"

AN: Ok, writing this was fun. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. I will try to post a new chapter between 2,000 and 4,000 words, weekly. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 4: Be Careful What You Wish For

Standard Disclaimer: If you think I own Harry Potter... well, you are wrong. :D

AN: Sorry for the slow update. Turns out I had to research every student ever listed for Hogwarts, years 1984-1991, before I could write this!
Changes made in 1991 sorting:
Harry and Neville go to Hufflepuff.
Hermione goes to Ravenclaw.

AN: Complete list of students sorted 1991 with House:
Gryffindor: Lavender Brown, Fay Dunbar, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Ronald Weasley, Sophie Roper, Lily Moon, Sally-Anne Perks, Stephen Cornfoot.
Slytherin: Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe, Tracey Davis, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Pansey Parkinson, Blaise Zambini, Alice Selwyn
Ravenclaw: Terry Boot, Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, Sue Li, Mandy Brocklehurst, Padma Patil, Lisa Turpin, Hermione Granger, Morag McDougal, Kevin Entwhistle
Hufflepuff: Leanne Moody(no relation!), Hannah Abbot, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Wayne Hopkins, Megan Jones, Ernest Macmillan, Susan Bones, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Zacharias Smith

Regarding blood status: Using the Harry Potter wiki, blood status has been assigned as the LESSER of those presented. (If it says Pure-blood maybe half-blood, then for this fic, it will be half. If it is not listed, then it will be Muggle-born EXCEPT in Slytherin. Unlisted blood status for a Slytherin student will be half-blood.) I have a logical reason for this, but will not bore you with it unless asked.

AN: My creative writing professor did not like this story (chapter one), so I have to write 4 short stories and revise a poem in the next two weeks. But I do have the next chapter outlined, so once I get through with my homework, I should make good progress on the next one.

Chapter 4

Be Careful What You Wish For…

*******************************FlashBack to the train*****************************

The rhythmic clicking of the train's wheels on the rails and the slight rocking motion of the rail car made paying attention difficult for Harry. The foothills passed by hypnotically.

Draco had been talking non-stop for half an hour before he stops and looks sharply at Harry. "Have you been listening?" he inquired shortly.

Crushing the desire to stretch and stifling a yawn, Harry nods tiredly.

Draco smiles an evil little smile, "Good. Summarize the House system at Hogwarts."

Harry closes his eyes for several seconds as he collects his thoughts before beginning, "There are four Houses; Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. Slytherin and Gryffindor have a significant rivalry, as evidenced by my would-be kidnapper. Hufflepuff has the best relationships with the other houses. Ravenclaw is intelligent and studious, loving knowledge for its own sake. Slytherin is the House of the cunning and ambitious. They crave power and personal advancement in their sphere of influence."

Harry stopped for a deep breath before continuing, "Hufflepuff is the home of the hard-working, friendly, and loyal. Gryffindor is the home of the brave and chivalrous, although if Weasley is an indication I would say foolhardy and rude are more accurate descriptions."

Draco sat patiently listening before interrupting, "Essentially correct. The method of sorting students into their Houses is a secret."

Harry smirked, "But you know." It was a statement of fact, not a question.

Draco grinned broadly, "Yes. I know. There is an old hat, enchanted by the founders of Hogwarts, which decides where you will spend the next seven years. It will talk to you, but only you will be able to hear it. You can talk to it too, which is important for your purposes. Which House do you think you should be in?"

Harry looked out the window at the increasingly tall hills and thought a moment, "Well, I think I could do well in any house. I am no stranger to hard work. I can be brave and polite when called for. Yet, I have proven I can be cunning and I definitely am ambitious." Harry neglected to mention his greatest ambition currently was to never see the Dursleys again. "And I do like to learn new things."

Draco nodded impatiently, "Yes, but which House will serve you best? Remember, it is not just about finding a house that meshes with your personality, but it is also about how you will be perceived by others for the next seven years. Should you choose Gryffindor?"

Harry thinks a moment before shaking his head quickly, "If all Gryffindors are anything like Weasley, I can't see being happy there. Likewise, the house rivalry would put me at odds with everyone in Slytherin, making it harder to form alliances with anyone there."

Draco nods sagely, "Do not make the mistake of assuming any House's members are identical in attributes. However, because Ronald is in your year, it would be impossible to avoid him. Given that, you are exactly right in your assessment." Draco pauses before asking, "What about Slytherin?"

Harry immediately shakes his head negatively, "For the same reason I can't choose Gryffindor. The house rivalry would make it almost impossible to form alliances with any Gryffindor, should it ever prove advantageous to do so."

Draco nods, smiling broadly, "Excellent! I was afraid you would think you 'needed' to join Slytherin as some show of friendship to me. We can be friends regardless of your house, although if you choose Gryffindor we would have to be friends secretly. The reasons you give against choosing Slytherin are well founded."

Eyeing Harry critically, "So, two Houses remain. Which would suit your long term goals best?"

Harry takes a moment to carefully consider, "Ravenclaw. It has the best relationship with Slytherin, according to what you have taught me. They are also routinely discounted as 'movers and shakers', so a Slytherin hiding in Ravenclaw would be unexpected."

"Why not Hufflepuff?" Draco asks smugly.

"Honestly, Hufflepuff is a consideration."

Draco froze and raised an eyebrow, waiting for Harry to continue.

Which Harry did, "but their reputation for diligence and hard work could bite me, if anyone ever guessed my real intentions."

"And what are your real intentions?" Draco leaned forward, waiting for the answer.

Harry blanked his face and said imperiously, "To return House Potter to a position of power and respect appropriate to its political status and lineage. You said I am a paper tiger, so I want Power. That makes me Slytherin, no matter what House I am in. But I want power to protect myself, my family (when I have one), and my friends. That is both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Therefore, the House least likely to house someone with my plans is Ravenclaw, making it the most logical House to choose."

An evil smile finds its way across Draco's face as he clasps a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Well reasoned my good 'Claw. You are going to do fine."

************************************Present*************************************************

Remembering the conversation from the Hogwarts Express, Draco watched as the newly sorted Hufflepuffs followed their pink haired prefect out of the Great Hall. Harry had some explaining to do… soon.

Harry watched as the Hufflepuff prefect led them toward his home for the next seven years, the Hufflepuff common room. He was already certain this decision had immediate advantages as it was obvious by the scents drifting through the hallway… (mmmm! Treacle tarts!) …they were heading toward the kitchen. Late night snacks, always important for growing boys, should be easily obtained. Raiding the Dursley's refrigerator in the small hours of the night is the only reason Harry survived as healthy as he did.

Stone walls, ceilings and floors echoed the prefect's words as she spoke continuously, mentioning famous Hufflepuffs from the past, including some Ministers of Magic and other notables. She said a lot more, but Harry was not really listening. Her hair was distracting! From the back of the line it seemed to be different colors by different light, ranging from blue to pink, fading so smoothly from one to the next the change was never noticed while watching. Harry did catch the 'don't use magic in the halls' rule and the "We don't look for trouble, but if you mess with our friends or family, watch out!" This seemed logical for a House whose mascot is a badger. Badgers are notoriously tough and will defend against predators many times their size.

The prefect stopped in front of a stack of barrels and demonstrated how to open the house entrance, which intriguingly enough was a large oak barrel. Tap the barrel with your wand, two times, slight pause, three more times, then it swings open and everyone crawled through into the common room. Her prefectness mentioned badger dens are called setts, but most just called it the common room.

Harry looked around in wonder. Instead of a dark, windowless room, the common room was round, with ceilings high enough to prevent feeling cramped. Circular windows looked out into a night sky filled with stars. No matter where you looked, there were plants. All kinds of plants in every color, some of them looked like they were moving by themselves. Weird!

Polished brass and bronze lamps hung throughout the room, providing a warm yellowish light. To say it was the friendliest room Harry had ever walked into would be a massive understatement!

The prefect was still talking and now seemed to be paying a lot of attention to Harry, more than to any other student. Some might even go so far as to say she was staring at Harry. Many of the other students were also paying a lot of attention to Harry. Years of entertaining in the parks prevented the embarrassment another student might have felt.

Taking advantage of the situation, Harry reached into his pocket and brought out three brightly colored juggling balls and began a simple cascade as everyone looked on enthralled. "This is called a cascade. Each ball touches each hand during every circuit." Harry worked the three balls into a shower. "This is called a shower. It is the same as a cascade, but the balls go higher on each round." Harry transformed the shower into a high fountain. "And this is called a fountain. Only one hand is used to keep all the balls in the air." Harry grinned as he pulled out a fourth ball and added it as he allowed the fountain to become a shower again, then back to a cascade before slipping into a double two ball fountain. "And this is a double fountain. The balls in my right hand never touch my left hand and vice versa."

The prefect watched, her hair changing color to the ball she was watching at the moment. Orange was not her best look! The balls cascaded once more before reaching for the ceiling, barely touching before plummeting toward Harry once more, each caught and stored swiftly as it returned until all the balls had disappeared and Harry was standing once more smiling at the prefect.

The prefect shook her head as if clearing cobwebs, "How did you do that?"

Harry smiled enthusiastically, "You teach me to do that with my hair, and I will teach you to do this."

The prefect laughed, "Sorry, you have to be born with this ability. It can't be learned."

Harry shrugged, "Guess this will remain my little secret then… ". Harry laughed at the look of frustration on the prefect's face.

Another first year proclaimed, "That is juggling. It is a skill. Anyone can learn it."

Harry raised an eyebrow, smiled and gave a modest bow toward the speaker, "Then I look forward to seeing your progress in this skill 'anyone can learn'." Turning to the prefect, "It has been a long day. Could you show us to our beds?"

The prefect laughed and did just that.

**************At the door to the Hufflepuff First Year Male Dorms***************************

An older boy stood beside a large round door set in the wall of the common room.

"Hey there, Tonks!" the boy greeted the prefect.

"Hey Cedric. You draw the short straw this time?" Tonks hair cycled through waves of color as she talked.

Cedric shook his head, "Nope. Volunteered. I wanted to get a closer look at this Harry chap. Seems the whole school is talking about him!" Cedric looked at Harry and grinned, then looked across all the first year 'puffs. "Well, welcome to your new home! Every House has secrets and we are no different. In many ways we do pattern ourselves after our mascot, the badger. Can anyone guess what that might mean?"

The round faced boy raised his hand timidly.

Cedric grinned, "No need for that. Just speak up. You are with friends here! What is your name?"

The boy muttered "Neville, sir".

Cedric paused and thought, "Neville? You must be Neville Longbottom… and don't call me sir. I am not that much older than you." Cedric grinned.

Neville nodded.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Neville." Turning to Tonks, "Don't you think it is time to get the girls to their dorms?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're going. You just want to have all the fun to yourself…" Tonks winked at Cedric as her bosom swelled prodigiously beneath her robe and was rewarded by a beet red blush. "Come along ladies. We must let the men-folk do whatever it is they do when we are not around."

The boys watched Tonks lead the first year girls to another large round door in the other across the common room before they disappeared inside it.

"Well," Cedric started again, "That was Nymphdora Tonks. Don't let her ever catch you using her first name. She doesn't like it. And she will get even with you for it and you will not enjoy the experience. She rivals the twins for pranks and her magic is better." Cedric shuddered, obviously reliving a prank he wished he has avoided. "Oh, and she LOVES making people blush. Get used to the idea, because you can't avoid it. I know I have tried! Although the good news is, this is her last year. So, you won't have to put up with her long."

"Ok, this way." Cedric pulled the door open and walked into the hallway beyond. After everyone was in and the door closed. Cedric turned. "Ok, here is one of the secrets. We make you swear a magical oath to not reveal our secrets to anyone who is not a member of Hufflepuff. I know, it is a bit extreme, but trust me when I say there are excellent reasons, which I will share with you in a few minutes."

Cedric pulled out his wand, holding it upright, "Ok, I am going to show you how it is done." Looking at the tip of his wand he said, "I, Cedric Diggory, swear on my magic that I will not reveal the secrets of House Hufflepuff to anyone who is not a member of House Hufflepuff." A faint golden circle of light expanded quickly and disappeared.

"Yeah, the little light show just proves the oath took. I have sworn this oath before, so that little puff of light was just magic saying, 'Yeah, Yeah, I heard you the first time!' So, who wants to go first?"

Harry had decided to enter the hall at the back of the group, so he ducked sideways to avoid being picked. Surprisingly, Neville raised his wand and stated the oath, causing a very dim ring of light to expand away from him. Each of the others took the oath in turn, though no one else produced such a dim halo. The other boys had stepped to the side of the corridor as they completed their oath, leaving Harry rather conspicuous by the door.

"Well, 'Lord' Potter?" Cedric chuckled. "Do you wish to exercise your Head of House status to obtain an exemption from the oath? It is possible, but we would be unable to tell you any of the House secrets."

Harry did not appreciate Cedric laughing at his title. Paper tiger or not, if he acted like a paper tiger, his plan would fail before he began. Holding his wand upright he upped the ante in the only way he could think of, "I, Lord Harry James Potter, Head of House Potter, do hereby swear upon my magic and my life-" (Gasps were heard from the other boys, while Neville and Cedric looked like they had forgotten how to breathe... or swallowed a bug…) "-that I shall never reveal the Secrets of House Hufflepuff to anyone not a member of House Hufflepuff. As I will it, so shall it be." No one saw a halo of light from Harry's wand. No one saw anything, as everyone was temporarily blinded by the flash!

The boys heard footsteps running toward them and the door opening before the white noise of a dozen voices all trying to speak at once threatened to deafen them.

Cedric held his hand high above his head. "QUIET! It was just Lord Potter swearing the oath… on his life… as Head of House."

Harry was starting to be able to see again, but no sound. At first he thought he was deaf until he could see everyone staring at him.

The pretty prefect with the pink spiky hair stepped forward, "Harry, that was not necessary, but your commitment to the House is noted. Thank you." She turned and led everyone except the first year boys out of the hall.

Cedric shook his head in wonder. "Ok, that is enough excitement for one night. Let's get you guys settled in. Hopefully without any further surprises." Cedric muttered the last to himself.

Opening a side door, he waved the boys in, "This is the room for half of you, three here and three next door. Some of the other dorms crowd the students together. We don't. The castle is large enough to house and educate ten times as many students as we have enrolled. There is no reason to skimp on space."

"By now it is probably obvious, but I have to say it to make it covered by your oaths. The First Secret of Hufflepuff is… we swear that oath." Cedric grins, "And in 1,000 years of Hogwarts students, we are pretty sure no one has ever found out. If they did, they kept it to themselves.

Looking around the room, Harry saw three beds with patchwork quilts on them. Each had a copper bed warmer hanging from the wall beside the bed and each bed had a copper lamp directly over the headboard. Warm light bathed the room making it seem like home. Well, like he thought others would think of home. No Dursley would ever allow something this comfortable in their home. Harry grinned, looking forward to what looked like a really soft bed for the first time in his life!

Cedric coughed to get their attention. "This is the second secret. Lord Potter, um.. may I call you Harry?" Harry nodded once. "Good, thank you. That will make life easier for me in the dorm. Harry, get your quilt from your bed. Who else is staying in this room? We need two more." Cedric looked around as they fumble footed, before Neville stepped forward again. "I will."

Cedric nodded, thinking this was a very brave 'puff. It was obvious he was frightened of almost everything, yet he did not let that stop him. 'Courage enough to be a Gryffindor. If he is more loyal or hardworking than he is courageous, he will be an exemplary 'puff.'

Cedric looked at the remaining four boys, "Well, one more. Who will it be?" Cedric looked at Zach Smith, "How about you?" The boy in question looked terrified, darting glances at Harry, "Um, if it is alright with everyone else, I would rather stay with Ernest."

Cedric didn't push the issue. It was obvious Mr. Smith was terrified of Harry and did not have Neville's courage to draw on.

Looking at the other two, Cedric asked, "Justin, Wayne? Either of you want to bunk with Harry and Neville for the next several years?"

Wayne Hopkins looked at Justin and shrugged, before stepping forward. "Sure."

Cedric grinned broadly. Friendship is a cornerstone of Hufflepuff. It was good to see Wayne stepping forward, especially after Harry spooked everyone.

Clapping his hands once, Cedric continued. "Ok, each of you grab the quilt from your bed and bring them to the middle of the floor. Notice the corner patches on your quilt don't match any other patches on the quilt." The three boys nodded. "But they do match a corner block on your roommates quilt. So lay them down in the middle in a kind of triangle, so the matching blocks from each corner overlap. Now, watch this."

Cedric took out his wand and touched it to the floor in the center of the triangle formed by the quilts. "I'm late. I'm late. I'm late." The floor darkened to pitch black before lightening to a white misty fog. "Now, if you step on the mist, you will be transported directly to a small closet near the main entrance. It can be a real time saver, but don't depend on it. Notice how it started black? Someone was in the closet. As long as someone is in it, you can't transport to it. While you are in transit, the door is magically locked, so no one will see you."

Pulling the corners apart, the mist faded back to a normal floor.

Cedric looked at Neville, "Mr. Longbottom, earlier you said you knew something about badgers and their homes. Do you know anything that applies to this?"

Neville nodded, "Badger setts always have more than one entrance."

Cedric laughed, "Exactly! But the quilts will stay right there until one of us moves them. That is why the elves do not clean our rooms. We tell everyone it is so we can practice routine tasks, like house work, which are character building."

Harry laughed.

Cedric raised an eyebrow and inquired, "Lord Potter, is something amusing you about that?"

Harry nodded happily as he answered, "That is positively Slytherin of you!"

No one else seemed to find it as amusing as Harry did.

*************Head of House meeting in Dumbledore's office later that evening***********

A circular room high in a tower within Hogwarts, or on the ground floor or anywhere in between and several places not between, is home to the Headmaster's office. Portraits of old men, and a few women, were proudly displayed upon the walls. The effect of such pride evident in the intricately carved frames, meticulously gilded. This effect was slightly diminished by the subjects of the paintings looks of complete boredom. Several seemed asleep and one was actually snoring. The small room was made to seem smaller by the plethora of bookcases and spindle-legged tables supporting various objects of silver; some of which emitted little puffs of smoke while others whirred and wobbled, yet never fell from their tables.

One side of the room, if a round room can be said to truly have any side, is dominated by a large claw-footed desk, piled high with papers, scrolls, and further little silver implements defying description. On the wall above and behind the desk a larger portrait of the previous Headmaster observed the goings on of the room with obvious disapproval, looking down upon the grey bearded wizard sitting in his former chair.

Here the Heads of the various Houses of Hogwarts gathered to solemnly discharge their duties to the school and the students. Each Head also a Professor, excelling his (or her) field. Here gathered the most powerful wizards and witches of Hogwarts, to exchange ideas and ideals, to forge the future of Wizarding England one child at a time. Here the hopes of England are nurtured into blossom by discourse most erudite…

Usually…

"No".

"Yes".

"No".

"Yes".

"Headmaster, allow me to put this in unambiguous terms. If you force me to teach Slytherins and Gryffindors together, I will place the Gryffindor students in the hall and refuse them entrance." The Greasy Git, as some called him, stared at the grey bearded Headmaster, sincerity clearly edging his eyes.

Headmaster Dumbledore, having fought the darkest of Dark Lords, was unswayed by a potions master, no matter how sincere he might be. "Severus, don't you think you are being unreasonable? They are just children."

Snape's sneer assumed its usual station as he responded coldly, "Headmaster, I have long opposed your theory of forcing the two Houses together in an attempt to reduce inter-house rivalry. Today was the last straw, the proof your theory is flawed and this social experiment should be ended. I would say we should eradicate all proof we were ever stupid enough to attempt it, but my objections are a matter of record, therefore my reputation will remain intact."

Professor Flitwick, professor of charms and former dueling champion, chuckled. After Snape attempted to quell him with his signature look, Professor Flitwick cheerfully stated, "You have no need to worry Professor Snape. Your reputation will outlast anyone currently breathing in this room." Turning to encompass the portraits with a sweeping hand motion, "No offense to those currently breathing impaired is intended."

Several portraits huffed and turned their heads away, as if ignoring the living in spite.

Dumbledore took advantage of the interruption the small Charms professor had made, hoping some of the momentum of his argument had died, eyes twinkling cheerfully he began, "Severus, we just need more time to-"

"NO!" Minerva interjected. Standing tall and regal in a black dress, looking far more the Wicked Witch of the West from that muggle tale than the highly skilled, firm yet compassionate educator many students had discovered her to be. Raising her voice and continuing in her firmest tone, capable of quelling crowds of misbehaving students with the efficacy of a basilisk's stare she continued, "As many times as I have disagreed with Professor Snape in the past, he is absolutely correct to insist we separate Gryffindor and Slytherin students for lessons. Your attempt to foster understanding between the Houses, while laudable, has failed utterly. Ronald Weasley, an unsorted student, attacked another unsorted student who he rightly assumed would become a member of Slytherin." Minerva stepped forward, her voice gaining volume and disgust, "Neither had been sorted. Neither had any negative Hogwarts experience to draw upon. Neither had gotten off the infernal train! If this is not proof your social experiment is a complete failure, then I don't see what will convince you." Minerva crossed her arms and glared at Albus, daring him to refute her comments.

Albus' sad eyes did not twinkle as he waved to Flitwick and Sprout, "And what are your opinions regarding this?"

Professor Flitwick ventured his opinion first, "There is always a tension in Slytherin/Gryffindor classes that is noticeably lacking in other classes I teach." Pausing for a moment, tapping his fingers upon his holstered wand, "I think as social experiments go, I would like to see what will happen if we pair the Houses and let them take all their classes together. That should reduce the opportunity to increase tensions between the Houses. I suggest Ravenclaw and Slytherin as one pair, the other two as the other."

Dumbledore nodded, thinking 'How can I make this work within my other plans?'

Sprout spoke up quickly, "My 'puffs would make a good match for the Minerva's Gryffs. Intellect and Cunning. Hard work and Bravery. Those seem like workable combinations."

Dumbledore slowly stroked his long grey beard as he began, "Perhaps you are all right. We can try it and see. But I require some concessions on your parts."

Everyone looked a bit nervous, but none so uncomfortable as Professor Snape, who was beginning to have a very bad feeling about how easily the headmaster gave in.

Dumbledore gave a disgusted grunt before he continued, "It is my opinion that my 'social experiment' as you termed it, failed in no small part due to the behavior of certain professors. So, if you would like to try this novel arrangement I will permit it, with a few alterations. First, professors will cease show overt favoritism to any house." Looking over his spectacles at Professor Snape, Dumbledore's eyes grew hard and unforgiving he continued, "Your behavior has been deplorable". He quickly raised his hand to cut off the inevitable response from Professor Snape. "Do not try to defend your actions. We both know there is no acceptable excuse. We know there is no acceptable excuse because I determine what is acceptable." The headmaster raised an eyebrow, daring Snape to challenge his assertion.

Turning to look at his assistant, "And you, Minerva, are almost as bad." Again he raised his hand. "I have allowed you to continue as you have, as a balance to Severus' behavior". His eyes became eloquent in their disappointment, "Yet your favoritism has been just as clearly displayed for all to see. Every student knows how the two of you will behave in any situation that pits Slytherin versus Gryffindor. By now, most of the first years will already know what to expect from both of you where your two houses are concerned."

Looking sternly at both Severus and Minerva, "Your behavior will now become as exemplary as it has previously been biased. I will no longer tolerate you turning children into weapons to satisfy whatever issues you may have with one another."

Smiling roughly as the twinkle returns full force he continues, "I overheard a muggle, well into his cups, once say, 'Wars are fought by soldiers, but wars are not started by soldiers. Wars are started by men with no intention of bleeding or dying in them. We should lock the leaders in a room and let them fight it out, leaving the rest of us poor blighters to our lives.'"

Albus looked at all fours Heads in turn, "I am beginning to think the gentleman, although a muggle and quite drunk, had a good idea. So, as a last resort, if you cannot work together as professionals, I will place you in a small room and come back to check on you… in a week or so. And just so I am completely understood", the twinkle disappeared as though it never existed. Here was the warrior who defeated Grindlewald. This is the man He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named still feared. "You both are much closer to 'a last resort' than you may believe."

"You are correct." Sighing deeply Dumbledore sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "The incident on the train between Malfoy and Ron has proven my attempt to heal the rifts between the houses has failed."

Dumbledore looked again at Severus and Minerva, "It has proven I should have reined you both in long ago." Waving his hand at some imagined thought, "So, we shall try it your way. In trade you will behave as professional educators and Heads of House."

Professor Snape smiled. There was plenty of wiggle room in such a poorly worded order.

The Headmaster continued, "I also think the mentioned pairings are unacceptable. They are ideal, if avoiding strife were the only goal." Sweeping each professor with his stern glare, "But we are to educate our charges to function in the real world. As such, they must learn to cope with a reasonable amount of stress." Anyone with a functioning sense of self-preservation could hear the emphasis on 'reasonable'.

Rising from his chair, he leaned forward placing his fists firmly on the desktop, "Therefore, the pairings for classes will be Slytherin/Hufflepuff and Gryffindor/Ravenclaw."

Dumbledore's voice became hard, "From now on, you will rein in and discipline your students as appropriate" Dumbledore looked long and hard at Severus as he softly added, "For if you do not, I will."

His voice becoming edged with anger, "I have tried to be a conciliator. You have not allowed me to be. So now, if you force me to act in your stead, I will be judge and jury. The student you force me to discipline will be an object lesson to the other students, and to you. From now on, all major transgression will be dealt with by the student's Head of House. You will be firm and fair. Or I will step in…"

The pause gave Minerva goose bumps as Dumbledore allowed his power to be clearly felt by all. Gone was the nice grandfatherly figure. Gone was the good natured, slightly bumbling old codger willing to share lemon drops with all who entered his office. In his place was the greatest Wizard of the age, an object of abyssal fear or transcendental hope; depending on your stance relative to his.

Dumbledore's voice carried the finality of a hanging judge, "…and I will be neither. My punishments will become legend. If you continue to force me to act in your stead, subsequent punishments will become progressively more draconian until students will beg to be merely expelled." The headmaster stared at Snape, "and I will find a fitting punishment for the Head of House who required me to do his job."

Turning from Snape, catching each professor's eye for several seconds each, he asked, "Are we absolutely clear?"

No one moved beyond a slow but definite nod. Not a sound was made.

Every portrait was standing, watching silently. Some in awe. Some nodded approvingly. It was clear each had something to say about this new Dumbledore. It was equally clear none would utter a word this night.

"Any further questions"? Dumbledore looked to each Head of House in turn, waiting for further comments. None came.

"Very well. Then you all have preparations for tomorrow's classes. Use the current schedule for Slytherin and pair Hufflepuff with them. Likewise the current schedule for Gryffindor and pair Ravenclaw to them. Your scheduling issues are solved."

Looking out the window for a moment, as if to find solace and answers from the stars themselves… to no avail, Dumbledore sighed again, "Good night."

The dismissal was as unmistakable as the professors' desire to escape this room.

Filing out in silence, even Snape's cloak dared not billow, lest it attract unwanted attention. Severus and Minerva caught each other's eye.

Stopping for a moment near the gargoyle, Severus whispered, "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus."

Looking older than Severus had ever seen her, Minerva nodded and whispered, "Indeed."

AN: End of semester crush for me. It will probably be a few weeks before I post another chapter. (Which is why this one was a bit longer)

Reviews are good incentive to get me to squeeze another chapter in before semester ends. Just saying. ;)

And Yes... Harry is still using his Head of House status with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop. He will learn as he goes. But he will also have to continue to deal with the consequences of his initial mistakes for a very long time. *evil cackle fills the dark places of the internet*

Chapter 5: Dumbledore Plots

Disclaimer: Yep… still don't own Harry Potter.

AN: A short chapter to give an idea of what I am doing with Dumbledore. Longer AN at the end to address some comments from reviews.

Chapter 5

Dumbledore Plots

'How did it go wrong?' Albus mused to himself. 'They were not even to Hogwarts yet! Severus will regret his part in disrupting my plans.'

The Headmaster got up and crossed to the window, looking out at the grounds.

'What went wrong? The Dursleys played their part. No doubt there. They kept Harry isolated from everything magical. As expected, he was given no love. Harry should have been starving for any positive human contact. Any person to show him the slightest human kindness would be seen in a very positive light. The first person to do so would likely have a friend for life.'

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth as he continued to think, 'The multitude of owls we had to send to get Harry his letter proves the Dursleys were trying to keep Harry away from magic and the magical world. Hagrid found them hiding on a rock in the sea, of all places. That is pretty extreme to avoid post. So, I think it is fair to say the Dursleys did their job as expected.'

"Tea please, and some jammy dodgers" Albus said to the air. Tea and biscuits appeared on his desk, steam curling up from the spout of the antique china teapot.

Taking the cup of freshly poured tea and a biscuit, Dumbledore looked out the window again. 'So, what happened? Surely the harpy was able to accomplish a simple task. All she had to do was make sure Harry and Ron met before they got on the train. Harry was properly primed; he would take any positive human contact and react very positively to it. Ron and Harry should have been best friends by the time they got to Hogwarts.'

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and gave a derisive chuckle, 'Well, that didn't happen…'

Finishing his jammy dodger and washing it down with several sips of tea, the headmaster made a decision. Whatever went wrong, happened on that train. 'Time to find out what happened from the horse's mouth.' Remembering the exhibition of gastronomic excess displayed at the sorting feast, he would be sure to stay well away from this particular horse's mouth as he discovered his answers.

******************Back in the Headmaster's office, later that evening****************

Under the guise of checking on the first year students, Dumbledore had spent enough time with Ron Weasley in his dorm room to pick through his mind with a bit of legilimency. What he found there was not encouraging; no, not in the slightest.

The first problem had been sorting truth from fiction. Ronald's recollection of the event was heavily altered by his biased perceptions, both of Slytherins in general, and of his own prowess specifically. The boy honestly believes Draco 'did something dark' to him, causing him to react the way he did. Once these delusions were stripped away and the original memory viewed, the stupidity of the boy became obvious. Molly must have told him to befriend Harry 'or else'. Well, he certainly made an impression! Harry will never trust Ron. Not after that. Harry's charge of kidnapping was ludicrous and would never hold up in court. However, if he spoke to a solicitor or barrister, they would recommend downgrading the charge to physical assault. That charge would be very difficult to laugh out of court or sweep under the carpet. Harry's assertion that he is "Head of House Potter", while ridiculous, also guaranteed Harry's charge would be heard by the Wizengamot. The Wizengamot defended their supposed privileges quite zealously.

And equally obvious was Draco's behavior. Draco taunted Ron, deliberately provoking him into an attack. Why?

Dumbledore reviewed the memory in his pensieve. Something was off. This was entirely too neat. It seemed orchestrated, as if Draco wanted… no… that isn't right. No. As if Draco NEEDED Ron to attack him. If only Ronald paid more attention to everything else in the compartment. If he had, Dumbledore could see Harry's face. That might help. But Ron was concentrated on young Mr. Malfoy with the intensity of an Olympic archer. He saw nothing else, but Dumbledore could count the threads in Draco's robe.

Dumbledore smiled as he had an 'ah ha' moment. Rewinding the memory to just before Ronald collided with Draco, he froze the moment and shrunk his pensieve self to mosquito size. Flying up to Draco's right eye, he could clearly see Harry's expression. Rewinding the memory to the beginning of Draco's taunting and watching Harry's face in Draco's eye in slow motion, it became obvious when Harry figured out what Draco was doing. With this new information Albus returned to his normal size and rewound the memory again. He played it many more times, watching each participant exclusively during at least three replays. But his deduction seemed to hold. The only conclusion possible…

'Draco is teaching Harry' Albus growled at this thought. 'This changes everything. All my opening gambits are worthless. And Draco is teaching Harry about his duties as Head of House Potter. That is how Harry knew to invoke Head of House status!'

Dumbledore smiled evilly, 'No, Draco taught Harry enough to FAKE being Head of House Potter. He did not have enough time to teach him everything, or even enough to get by, except around children; just some forms, some basic expectations others will have of him. Just enough to get him into more trouble than he could ever handle on his own.' Even if Dumbledore had to fan the flames of that trouble, from the shadows of course. 'Then, when Harry realizes how hopeless he is, I will rescue him from his self-made morass. Then he will be suitably appreciative of my efforts.'

Taking a sip of his re-heated tea, he nodded to himself. 'Yes, my opening gambits are worthless, but the midgame can be salvaged easily. And the endgame is still solid: Harry will still find himself dying at the hands of Voldemort.'

Dumbledore did not feel guilty for arranging Harry's death. After all, it was pre-ordained. Harry was a walking corpse from the moment that scar defiled his innocent forehead. Albus really had nothing to do with it. Actually, if you think about it, Sybill is the one who killed Harry. Or perhaps you could say Fate "pulled the trigger", as the muggles say. Regardless, there is no blame for Albus in this situation.

'Yes, Harry must die. But only at the appointed time and place, by the hand of Voldemort himself. Only after all the other horcruxes are destroyed. Only when Albus Dumbledore was standing near, to destroy the monster who killed The-Boy-Who-Lived.'

'Then my power will be absolute. As vanquisher of Grindlewald and Voldemort, none will question my ability or wisdom.'

Sipping his tea, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore could see the shape of the future. He would set Wizarding Britain back on the proper path.

"For the Greater Good" he whispered, as he reached for another jammy dodger.

Silence reigned as Dumbledore reviewed and finalized his new plans for Harry.

"Now, how am I going to punish Severus for causing this mess?" Albus smirked and refilled his cup.

AN: And that is my version of Albus Dumbledore. He is not evil, at least not in his own mind. He is manipulative, but he has to be. Decades of politics will do that to you. He has nothing against Harry. Harry is just collateral damage. Tragic, but unavoidable.

(long) AN: After several reviews regarding Dumbledore and 'evil', I felt the need to address the issue. First, a bit about myself... I am a combat vet. I understand war, sometimes a bit too much. The universal truth of war is... people die. Innocent people... wicked people... good people... and whether you are innocent, good, bad, dark, light or neutral... dead is still dead. The universal truth of war can be restated as War Sucks. Anyone talking of the glory of battle is lying through his teeth or has never been in battle.
Dumbledore came through the first war. Even in canon, the 'Leader of the Light' was losing. Lily's sacrifice literally saved the British wizarding world.
BTW, note that term... "Leader"... Dumbledore was effectively a General for the Light side. He made decisions on a routine basis which could result in someone's death. He constantly sent Snape to spy on Tom, knowing Snape could be discovered on any trip and meet a grisly end, but he kept sending him.
Now Dumbledore has a prophecy that says Tom is immortal unless he kills Harry (or is killed by Harry). Dumbledore also thinks Harry is a horcrux, thus he has to die before there is any chance to kill Tom. So, he doesn't even have the option of helping Harry defeat Tom and survive, for as long as Harry lives, Tom can return.
So, Dumbledore is faced with an impossible task, killing Tom while saving Harry. Albus knows it is impossible, so doesn't try. Harry must die or Tom lives forever. If Tom lives, hundreds if not thousands will die every year after Tom returns. It will take several decades of constant training to teach Harry enough to give him a fighting chance in a straight up duel. (After all, Tom has a 50 year head start...) So Albus has to weigh the lives of tens of thousands versus the life of one child.  (Please remember, the canon Dumbledore also planned for Harry to die. And when Harry was given the choice to give himself up to Tom, knowing Tom would kill him, Harry made the same choice, to sacrifice one life (his own) in the hopes of saving many more lives.)
It really is that simple.
War Sucks.
The most evil thing I have my Dumbles doing is arranging to take advantage of what he believes has to happen. Is that evil? Yeah, a little.
But consider the other side... if Albus decided to train Harry for the 30+ years needed to make him Tom's equal in a duel, then Albus is choosing to save one life, Harry's, by sacrificing the tens of thousands Voldemort will kill while Harry is training... AND Dumbles will still have to find some way to deal with the horcrux in the scar.
So, my opinion... Dumbledore is not evil. He is not absolutely good. He is neutral good (instead of neutral evil) because his choices benefit more people than they harm.
My Albus is not a nice guy. (But neither is the canon Dumbledore.) I wouldn't want him dating my daughter.
But he is no Lucius Malfoy.
And he is definitely no Voldemort.

I hope this clears up my concept of Dumbledore.
I don't expect anyone to like him.
Just don't expect him to start throwing AKs around either.

Chapter 6: First Day: Breakfast, Howlers, Politics

Chapter 6

First Day: Breakfast, Howlers and Politics

Harry was looking forward to today, the first day in a magical school. His dorm mates, Neville Longbottom and Wayne Hopkins, were busying getting themselves ready for breakfast too. They had decided they would go to breakfast together.

As Cedric had told them last night, "Puffs are encouraged to travel in groups while everyone gets oriented to the castle".

Then Cedric had taught them the secret of getting around Hogwarts while they got to know the layout. It was another Hufflepuff secret; apparently there were going to be a lot of those! This secret was a poultice applied to the eyelids for ten minutes, followed by a hot tea. It would always be available in the common room, but they were told upper years rarely used it. They would rather sleep the extra ten minutes!

The poultice was made from a plant with white flowers marked by an off-center yellow dot on the ends of long green stems, which Harry was informed was called Eyebrite or Herba Euphrasiae. The tea was made from a mixture of green tea, coleus, and gingko. "With a sprig of mint to help wake you up", the pink haired girl had said, doing a passable Professor Sprout impersonation. While not strictly needed for the poultice to work, the tea extended the effectiveness of the poultice to the entire day.

After using the poultice, Hufflepuff students could see markings in the hallways; on the walls, floors, even the ceilings; with handy tips, arrows and occasionally even maps! No one knew who put the markings there, but multiple handwriting and language styles indicated they were done over a very long time by many people.

As the trio walked toward the Great Hall, Harry wondered who made the markings they were following. Although he was still wondering as they entered the hall for breakfast, the tantalizing smell of bacon assured the contemplation of historic markings had reached an end.

As they sat at the Hufflepuff table, Neville sitting beside him and Wayne sitting across, they noticed they were earlier than most students. The Great Hall looked even larger this morning, with only a dozen or so students spread throughout the hall.

Harry noticed no one was sitting at the Slytherin table. Tonks noticed Harry looking, "They always come down together. It must be a House thing" as she indicated the Slytherin table with a quick head movement.

Harry nodded, "Thanks. Just seemed weird that all the other houses had at least a few, but they didn't."

Tonks nodded as she obviously had just taken a bite. 'Nice to know most people don't talk with their mouths full' Harry thought, thinking of Dudley.

Harry turned his attention to the wide array of breakfast foods to choose from, none of which he had to cook, none of which he would be told was "not for the likes of him". Harry was momentarily stunned into inaction by the enormity of the choices possible, until Neville asked him to pass the bacon. After that, Harry's plate rapidly gained a selection, before a very hungry eleven year old boy began making it disappear, bite by careful bite.

A look at the head table would have shown Harry the entire staff was there. It was almost tradition for them to all be early the first day. Information gathered during this first meal was critical to properly assess their new charges. A nurse's mediscan could only reveal so much, and that was not even done unless the Head of House requested it.

Pomona Sprout had a lot of experience with children. She was unable to bear children: it was determined shortly after she graduated Hogwarts. Few men of that age were interested in a wife who could not have children and she was not interested in sharing her beloved with another, man or woman. So, Ms. Sprout had returned to Hogwarts to teach herbology. It was not a terrible situation. She loved her rare plants and the greenhouses were top notch. But watching the children was always a secret passion. Becoming Head of Hufflepuff was a dream come true as she was suddenly a surrogate mother to dozens of wonderful children. It also gave her remit to act on suspicions she sometimes had regarding a child's home environment. Child abuse is a tricky thing in the magical world. Many old lines believe they have the right to deal with family as they see fit. So, while child abuse is technically illegal, it is so poorly defined that it is almost never prosecuted. This allowed many children to be abused during most of their childhood. Except in Hufflepuff.

There was more than one reason many of the pureblood Houses would threaten to disown a student sorted into her house. On more occasions than anyone remembered, she had intervened on behalf of one of her students. It seemed there was always at least one every year. Pomona always tried to give the benefit of the doubt to the parents. She would try to work with them to improve the health and well-being of her students. But if the parent showed no interest or defended the abuse as "their right"… well, she could hardly be held responsible for any 'discomfort' the parents might experience, could she? After all, the fact nearly every medication, narcotic, poison, or hallucinogenic compound in the world originated in plants is purely coincidental. Right?

Watching her newest 'Puffs, Pomona was certain she would be visiting Harry Potter's guardians soon. The boy was small for his age. True, it could be genetic, but unlikely. His parents had not been small, nor were any of his family she could recall. They were all fairly average in size and shape. (Professor Sprout's gaze drifted to infinity as she contemplated the problem, constructing a Punnett square large enough to explain this issue without foul play. A dominant gene would have to be a first generation mutant. So, recessive… but one that could be hidden for at least two generations to resurface in Harry… Wizarding genes are highly inbred, so it is possible…)

"But unlikely" she whispered to herself.

Returning to watching Harry, she noted with clinical precision his light breakfast, the manner he chewed, the way his eyes darted about unconsciously as if afraid someone would take his food. She would ask Poppy to give him a routine physical and a discrete diagnostic scan. Given his size and behavior, Pomona strongly suspected malnutrition secondary to systematic abuse. If she was proven right, then Heaven help those muggles. No one would ever try to prevent her from 'correcting' a parent in need of guidance. Not after what happened in '85.

Dumbledore had a bad feeling. Long ago he had learned to pay attention to his bad feelings. Looking about the hall, his gaze fell upon Professor Sprout and chill bumps marched down his arm like a Roman legion. He had not seen that look in a long time, not for six years, and had hoped to never see it again. Tracking her gaze to Harry, he knew pain and suffering was in someone's future. Sprout would want to 'correct' the Dursley's, but that would interfere with the headmaster's plans. She would have to be placated and sidetracked or Dumbledore strongly suspected he would become Pomona's target of opportunity. The chill bumps on his arms were joined by a shiver down his spine. When she was on one of her little crusades, one crossed Professor Sprout only at great peril and never without extreme need.

Dumbledore sighed to himself, "For the Greater Good…"

As the Great Hall had gradually filled with students, the ambient noise levels had risen accordingly, not with a linear relationship (as some might expect) but with a logarithmic relationship as students had to speak loudly for their neighbor to hear them over the background noise. Being understood more than two seats down the table was a forgone conclusion at this point. At some point all of Slytherin House had appeared at their table, eating silently as they watched the rest of the hall. Harry noticed Draco looking at him intently, but could not tell what, if anything, he was trying to tell him.

Suddenly the noise increased and then died down just as suddenly. In the air above the tables were owls. It seemed all the owls of Her Majesty's Realm were flying above the tables, each clutching something. Some clutched small packages. Others carried mail. Two carried what Harry thought were Christmas cards, for they were the only post Harry knew which came in red envelopes.

"Isn't it early for Christmas cards?" Harry asked no one in particular.

Harry's comment drew startled looks as students near him started scanning the owls quickly, trying to spot the 'Christmas cards'. Both owls bearing red cards headed for the Gryffindor tables, but one circled close to the ceiling as the other began a bombing run ending with the red card dropped onto Ronald Weasley's plate of food.

Harry noticed the other red heads at the table poking at Ronald and obviously indicating he should open it, but Ronald was shaking his head quickly as he tried to back away. The envelop was beginning to glow a bit, as if lit from the inside, as smoke began to rise from it. It became increasingly evident Ronald was not going to touch it and only Percy standing behind him kept him from fleeing the hall. Finally Percy decided he would open it, but apparently a moment too late. As Percy reached to pick up the card, it exploded with a thunderous "WAIT UNTIL I GET YOU HOME!", and throwing food and bits of smoking paper all over Ronald, Percy's face and arm, and most of Gryffindor house within ten feet.

Harry sat in shock. Even the post was magic! And apparently dangerous! As he started to turn away from the spectacle to ask Neville what just happened, Harry saw the other owl make his run, although his red card did not land on Ronald's plate. In fact, it hovered over the table in front of Ron and began to smoke and spark and then to Harry's amazement, it deformed into a mouth and began to speak in a soft voice, easily heard throughout the hall.

"Ronald Weasley, I have never been forced to send a howler to any of my children. Never. Even the twins never got a howler from me. Never. Yet here I am writing one to you with you barely sorted. What were you thinking? Were you thinking? For a brilliant chess player, you seem totally lacking common sense where anything Slytherin is concerned. Almost all of the witches and wizards who joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were from Slytherin. That is absolutely true. But most of Slytherin did not join him. Under the guise of saving him from a Slytherin, you attacked a Lord and Head of House. Where was that marvelous brain you use to beat everyone at chess? It deserted you when you needed it most."

The red mouth seemed to orient on Percy before continuing, "Percy, you will take Ronald to Lord Potter. You will formally introduce yourself and Ronald. And you will both apologize. If I discover the apologies are anything other than completely sincere. If I discover the proper forms were not used. I will personally drag you both home by your ears and remind you a Hogwarts education is a privilege, not a right."

The card looked back and forth between Percy and Ronald before asking, "Well? What are you waiting for?" Then it shredded itself into a burst of confetti.

Percy was not in a mood to be denied. He grabbed Ron by the collar of his robes and lifted him from his seat. He began a liberal use of magic to clean and groom Ronald, before doing the same to himself. Percy then leaned in and had a very short conversation with his brother which Ron apparently did not enjoy, judging by the increasingly red shade of his ears. They then turned and Percy marched Ronald to Harry's table, where he formally introduced himself.

"Lord Potter," Percy bowed his head and gave a slight bow, "may we have a moment of your time?"

Harry had seen some television shows where royalty and nobility interacted. If he remembered correctly, if the person standing was higher rank, the person seated had to stand. If equal rank, then you should stand (otherwise you were giving insult), and if lower rank, you should not. Since he was Head of House and neither Weasley was, then Harry decided to remain seated and instead did as Draco suggested, said the least required and would let everyone read into it what they would. In response to Percy's question Harry nodded once and waited.

Percy almost raised an eyebrow, but caught himself. Lord Potter was within his Rights to remain seated so Percy swallowed his pride and began, "Lord Potter, I am Percy Ignatius Weasley of the Ancient House of Weasley. This is my youngest brother, Ronald Bilius Weasley, also of the Ancient House of Weasley."

Harry was fully aware the entire hall was watching and listening to every word, so he did not speak, instead nodding to each to acknowledge the introduction.

{Meanwhile at the Slytherin table}

Draco was ready to pull his hair out! Percy had been given 'a moment of time", not permission to introduce himself and his brother! And even though Harry did not rise to speak to them or offer them a seat at his table, nodding to them when introduced implied equality. This was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong! If only he could have met with Harry before breakfast! Then he would have the books and the diary. Draco shook his head, waiting for the train to power over the cliffs. It would take weeks to help Harry regain the ground he was rapidly losing among the pureblood houses. For the first time Draco began to wonder if helping Harry was more than he could handle.

[Back to the Hufflepuff table]

Percy saw the nods and waited to see if Harry would introduce himself. Seconds ticked by and Harry waited silently. 'Bastard!' Percy thought. 'He is treating us as though he outranks us! Which he does' Percy grudgingly admitted to himself, 'but he is embarrassing us in front of everyone!'

"Lord Potter, I wish to apologize for my role in the incident on the train. I was not fully informed of the situation and my first response was ill-considered and entirely without merit." Percy apologized with a slightly deeper bow this time, before rising and poking Ron.

Reluctance etching his every move, Ron drew even with his brother and tried to apologize, "Lord Potter, I hope you accept my apology for my behavior on the train. It was unwarranted. Even though I believed you were in danger, the danger to your life and limb was not imminent. I should have asked if you required assistance before attempting to save you. I just knew you were new to our world and thought you were unaware of the dangerous situation you have found yourself in." Ron then gave the same head nod and bow he had seen Percy give.

{Meanwhile at the Slytherin table}

Draco sat silently watching the apologies. Silent on the outside. Inside he wanted to bang his head against the table or better yet, bang Ronald Muggle-Loving Weasley's head on the table. Harry is in a position of advantage and would throw it away for an apology! He could practically OWN the Weasleys, ok, that is a bit far. But he could definitely extract a minor debt at the very least! But no, little "Hufflepuff Harry" was going to give away the store, just like some bloody Gryffindor, and for nothing more than an apology! Draco wanted to scream! As he sat silently watching…

[Back at the Hufflepuff table]

Harry looked Percy in the eye. Something was off. Ronald's apology was hardly sincere. After a mostly sincere beginning, he seemed to be trying to insult Draco without breaking the rules. Harry had his 'eureka!' moment. 'Rules.' Harry thought, 'It is all about the Rules. Protocol, Forms, Rules and Tradition. THAT is what is off. That is why Percy has that tic. There is something missing and he hopes I don't know it. Well, he is right. I don't know what is missing. But you don't have to be a musical genius to know a sour note. And I have been watching the Dursley's moods for long enough to know when something is not right.'

Harry stood, gathered himself and faced the Weasleys. Looking Percy square in the eye, ignoring Ronald completely, he said firmly…

"No."

Harry then sat down and looked across at Draco for a moment. Draco looked stunned. Harry smiled internally as he turned to Neville and asked him to pass the bacon.

Percy was dragging his brother back toward the Gryffindor table as Ronald managed to shout indignantly, "Why the Hell not?"

Harry put down his silverware, stood and addressed Ron in the same tone one would address a confused child, "Ask Percy. He knows. Or to put it in words every woman in the world will immediately understand… If you don't know, I am not telling you."

Harry sat down once more and began to nibble on another piece of bacon. He really wasn't hungry, but it gave him something to do with his hands as he waited for his class schedule. He would have left, rather than sit back down, but without his schedule he didn't know what class to look for.

Laughter began echoing through the hall, as one after another of the female students, beginning with the seventh years, began to laugh. Not giggles. Laughter. Female students throughout the hall were roaring, falling from their seats, and pounding the tables. Even the head table was effected, although Professor Sprout managed to hold it to a loud giggle and the Assistant Headmistress smiled, actually SMILED… showing teeth and everything! The older male students were smiling, but seemed almost embarrassed they knew why it was funny. Dumbledore's twinkle was turned up to eleven. But the younger male students just looked at each other questioningly.

The school was obviously barking mad…

AN: My semester is drawing to a close and I really should be working on my studies, but I am so tired of analysis and technical merit. I just wanted a little fun. So, I wrote this bit. It is not beta'd or proof-read. I hope this raw work is not confusing or offensive and you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I will go back and revise this later to correct any glaring errors that slipped through my hurried writing.
AN: I plan to develop a rich culture for Hufflepuff and all the little puffs. Sprout is going to be FUN! I love it when characters start talking to me while I write! For those worried, I plan to keep the 'puffs all about loyalty and hard work. That will always be the case for me. But, in their own ways, they are going to be more Slytherin than any Slytherin ever! :D Over the summer I am hoping to post a few thousand words (a chapter) per week. So soon this will become a more regular serial piece.

AN: Reviews are love folks, just saying…:D

Chapter 7: Potions : Points of View

Standard disclaimer that applies to this entire fic: For all you who only have two brain cells, which are currently not speaking to each other… I do not own Harry Potter or anything JKR created.

AN: Semester is over. Still have a 4.0. Yea! I should be able to post at least weekly for the rest of the summer. I am trying a new technique in this chaper, for the first time. Please read the whole chapter before deciding if you like it or not. If you like the technique, let me know in the reviews and I will be sure to use it again. If you don't like the technique, be sure to let me know in the reviews so I don't use it again! Thanks!

Chapter 7

First Day of Potions: Points of View and Aftermath

************* Draco's POV************

While walking to potions, the darkness of the dungeons, lit only by ever present wall sconces, did not intrude on Draco's private thoughts. He had two books with him which he planned to give to Harry; one a book on pureblood etiquette, the other a magical diary paired to one in his dorm room. The diary would allow Harry and him to write to each other secretly. It is an old trick, but the only thing Draco could arrange on such short notice. But Professor Sprout had said something to Harry and then escorted him from the hall, so no chance to give the books to him just yet. Maybe he could get them to Harry after lunch.

As he walked in silence, Draco carefully reviewed the scene from earlier.

Breakfast was very confusing! Harry had somehow prevented a political disaster and Draco was pretty sure Harry was totally unaware of the shape that disaster would take. Although, it was beginning to look like Harry knew more than he was showing Draco. No one is that lucky. After the girls stopped laughing, the heads of each house handed out schedules to everyone. Draco was surprised he had double potions first thing and with Hufflepuff. His information said double potions normally paired Slytherin and Gryffindor. At least the day would start easily. Professor Snape had been tutoring him in potions for the last two years. Professor Snape also being his godfather created a nice synergy. The plan was to ask some oblivious Gryffindor a difficult question and when he couldn't answer, Snape would ask Draco, who would answer it. Knowing the questions and answers ahead of time made certain he would answer them correctly.

***(slightly paraphrased) excerpt from HP and the Sorcerer's stone***

Professor Snape started class by taking the roll call. Like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands, as Snape finished calling the names.

With eyes cold, dark and empty, Snape addressed the class in a soft voice, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry forced himself to look Snape in the eye, "I am not sure, sir."

Snape's lip curled into his trademark sneer, "Tut, tut – clearly fame isn't everything."

Snape continued his attack on Harry, "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry answered, "I don't know, sir."

Snape sneered, "Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter? What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry answered, "I don't know, sir."

Professor Snape looked at Draco and raised an eyebrow, "Well, Mr. Malfoy, can you answer the questions?"

Snape had prepared Draco for this moment to shine brighter than his peers.

"Sir, powdered asphodel root added to an infusion of wormwood will make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, which is also known as aconite." Draco recited his prepared answers with a smile. The rest of the students would now suspect his potion tuition far exceeded their own and the other Slytherins would be more cautious of annoying him, lest they should 'accidentally' be poisoned for their troubles.

"Sir," Harry began, with his hand raised to be recognized.

**** (And here Snape's day begins to go sideways) ****

"What is it, Potter?" Professor Snape demanded.

Harry stood beside his desk and began, "Sir, Mr. Malfoy's answers are correct…"

"I know they are correct!" Snape growled, "Why are you interrupting class to make such an obvious statement?"

"Sir," Harry continued, "Mr. Malfoy's answers are correct, given the information you provided in the questions and assuming he had not studied beyond his OWLS, as some of those answers would be expected from a seventh year student, not a first year student meeting his potions professor for the very first class."

"If you have a point, Potter, you should get to it quickly. I will be taking points from your house based on the length of your interruption" Snape snarked.

Harry took a deep breath and continued, "Sir, the questions were incomplete. Had a potions master asked you those exact same questions, you would not have been able to answer them without making potentially unjustifiable assumptions."

Snape's sneer had caused the hearts of hardened killer's to skip a beat, yet Harry continued to meet his gaze without flinching. "What 'unjustifiable assumptions' do you think I made, Potter?"

Harry took a deep breath before beginning, "Sir, you did not give the provenance of any of the ingredients you listed, nor sufficient information. For example, the first ingredient you listed, powered asphodel, is found in multiple locations; the growing season, available light duration and intensity, soil conditions, harvesting methods, and manner of reducing it to a powder will all have an impact on the quality of the ingredient. However, the more egregious error is lack of specificity, since the term "asphodel" is commonly applied to plants of two different groups; Asphodeline and Narthecium. The yellow asphodel, also known as the King's Spear, grows in the Mediterranean region. A properly prepared powder of its roots is useful in many potions, including the Draught of Living Death. However the Bog Asphodel, which is far more likely to be found in Britain, when powdered and properly prepared, is a rather unique method to assassinate someone. While adding it to an infusion of wormwood would not increase its lethality, the wormwood would disguise the taste if the wormwood were infused in alcohol. The resulting concoction, administered when the intended victim has been drinking for some time, causes the victim's skin to become extremely sensitive to sunlight. As the effect lasts nearly two days, the usual mechanism of death involves the victim attempting to go about his normal routine the next day, steps into the sun, and bursts into flame… just as a vampire would."

Harry looked at Draco and smiled, "Professor Snape also did not identify the type of liquid the wormwood was infused into. Was it alcohol? Perhaps water? Maybe dragon's blood? Wormwood infused into dragon's blood might have an interesting property or two. Each of the other questions likewise required assumptions which were unwarranted, given we are all first years and this is our first day of potions class."

Harry looked back at Professor Snape, whose face was assuming a rather purplish hue.

The class was stunned. No one dared to breathe.

Draco wondered what had just happened. He had answered the questions exactly as his godfather had instructed him to answer them. Yet Harry had given an apparently solid rebuttal to those answers, indicating the answers were flawed BECAUSE the questions were flawed!

Draco watched in stunned silence as Professor Snape took 40 points from Hufflepuff, gave Harry a week of detention with the janitor for his cheek and ordered Harry to leave the room and not to return until after Snape had spoken with his head of house.

As Harry walked past Draco on his way to the door, Harry smiled and winked at him.

'What was he up to now? What the hell was going on? Harry definitely knows more than he is letting me know.' Draco thought. 'Am I being scammed?'

Draco spent the rest of the period reviewing everything Harry had said or done since they had met.

**** Snape's PoV ****

'Today is the day I get back at James Potter,' Snape thought joyously.

Severus had waited over a decade to begin exacting his vengeance on Potter. Dumbledore's little tirade the previous evening was not going to interrupt his plans. Oh, Snape would ease off the Gryffindor's, which should get Dumbledore off his back, but 'Puff Potter… not in the slightest.

Snape entered the class as was his custom, sneer in place, rapid walk, and a perfect cape billow to intimidate the first years. He had perfected this over the last decade. The first class always went the same, except today. Today Snape had Hufflepuffs with Slytherins for the first time… and Potter.

His plan to intimidate and belittle Potter would start immediately.

"Harry Potter, our new celebrity," Snape sneered before launching into his standard first day speech. Potions are great. You are all idiots. I should be canonized for giving my valuable time to such imbeciles. Not the exact wording, but definitely the intent.

"Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Snape asked quietly. It is NEWT level material, but all the better to embarrass the scion of James Potter. Of course Potter didn't know.

Where to find a bezoar? Fourth year material. Potter didn't know, again.

What is monkshood/wolfsbane/aconite? This is actually in the book for first years, even if it is covered after New Year's. Again, Potter did not know. Snape was a very happy man as his plan played out.

""Well, Mr. Malfoy, can you answer the questions?"

Draco had repeated the prepared answers perfectly.

And now that annoying Potter brat was waving a hand in the air. Apparently he did not learn the required lesson. Snape smiled internally before preparing to verbally eviscerate the brat. "What is it, Potter?"

By the time Potter had finished his interruption, Snape realized he had failed to intimidate little Prince Potter. In fact, Potter had embarrassed him in front of a group of first years. Potter's information was correct, but how did he know it? A quick glance in Potter's mind during his interruption showed him looking through the Hufflepuff library this morning, stopping on the exact plants Snape questioned him on. Why was he looking at seventh year material? Why did he stop on those pages? Why was he standing up to a professor on the first day? Something was very wrong here.

In a fit of rage, Snape docked 'Puff Potter points, assigned him detention and ordered him out of his class. Sprout would hear about this disruptive behavior!

**** Dumbledore's office, after supper that same day, ****

**** Dumbledore's point of view ****

The headmaster turned from examining the animated silver instruments which gave so much information to the informed viewer. All those tied to Harry indicated everything was fine, for the moment.

Turning from his ruminations, Dumbledore looked at the assembled heads of house. Snape looked ready to explode. Sprout looked very concerned. Apparently Severus had already spoken to her about young Harry. Minerva also looks concerned, probably for the punishments Harry received from Severus and wondering how she can balance the scales without annoying Dumbledore. Given the nature of the disruption, Dumbledore was quite amused at everyone's reaction.

"Would anyone like a lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered, motioning to the low silver bowl filled with the confection; but all refused as usual.

"Then shall we start? I hear Severus has a topic to discuss," the headmaster said as his eyes sparkled merrily.

"A topic to discuss?" Snape yelled. "A topic to discuss? Here is a topic for you, why is Potter not serving his first detention as we speak?"

Dumbledore smiled and popped a lemon drop into his mouth, "Because I suspended the detention."

Severus looked like a pressure cooker with a faulty relief valve, i.e. about to explode.

"WHY, IN MERLIN'S NAME, DID YOU SUSPEND IT?" Snape exploded.

"Because the punishment was unwarranted. You do remember the conversation we had just last night, don't you?" Dumbledore spoke evenly, without a trace of anger in his voice.

He continued smoothly, "Last night I told you your behavior is deplorable. That was the exact word I used, 'deplorable'. You were told to change your behavior or there would be consequences. You remember that."

Dumbledore's gaze swept the other three. "You all remember this." It was not a question.

The portraits of headmasters long past looked on with interest.

Looking back at Severus, Dumbledore smiled, "So, why did you think asking NEWT level questions of our young Harry was acceptable behavior? Why did you ask him a fourth year question? Why did you ask him, in his very first potions class, a first year question on material you will not cover for months?"

The other three heads of house looked at professor Snape with varying degrees of disapproval, Sprout's being the strongest. Apparently Severus had forgotten many of his potion supplies came from Pomona's greenhouses.

Snape began imperiously, "I don't know what that pampered brat told you…"

Anything Severus planned to say was lost as Harry's head of house rose to his defense, "Pampered? PAMPERED? Are you blind as well as unprofessional? That boy is abused. He has been abused for YEARS! PAMPERED? I'll show you pampered!"

BOOM! Dumbledore was standing behind his desk, wand in hand and looking every inch the wizard of his younger years.

Snape stopped in the act of reaching for his wand. To slow, far too slow… as Flitwick's wand was holding very steady on the potion master. Sprout had pulled a chicken's egg from her robe. Having experienced Sprout's rather ingenious delivery mechanism in the past, Dumbledore could not allow her to give Severus what he so dearly deserved. 1985 was proof enough to last a lifetime.

Dumbledore sat back down, placing his wand clearly and closely to hand. "You will calm yourselves and sit down. Now."

Looking near mutiny, they all sat, wands ready to hand for Severus and Filius, two more eggs appearing in Pomona's hands. Minerva looked like she would love to hex Severus, but was maintaining her composure, barely.

"Pomona, you said Harry has been abused. How do you know?" Dumbledore asked evenly.

"I asked Poppy to give him a scan this morning. He is malnourished. Many of his bones have been broken to varying degrees over a significant period of time. Many of his injuries are commonly associated with physical abuse and neglect." Harry's head of house said while staring daggers at Snape. "Do you know what a spiral fracture is Professor Snape?"

Dumbledore was slightly awed by the amount of sarcasm, disdain, and anger Professor Sprout had infused into the word "Professor".

Pomona had built a full head of steam and she was nowhere near done with Severus. "A spiral fracture occurs when a long bone is twisted. There are many perfectly legal methods for that to occur. But since Harry is not a figure skater, gymnast, or studying to become a professional dancer, I think we can rule the accidental methods out. In child abuse, there are several methods of inducing a spiral fracture. Harry has multiple old spiral fractures which have healed. The degree of fracture indicates it was done slowly and deliberately with the intention of avoiding an obvious fracture. This produced 'greenstick' and 'stress' fractures. They were produced with malice, with the deliberate intention to cause extensive pain without getting caught by the medical system. THAT is the way Mr. Potter has been 'pampered'." Professor Sprout was standing, almost shouting at Snape. As she finished she stood there trembling, seemingly praying for Severus to be stupid enough to say anything about one of her 'puffs.

Snape was short-sighted and bigoted where the Potter name was concerned, but he was not THAT stupid! He remained seated with his hands clearly visible.

"And when did this scan occur, Pomona?" Dumbledore inquired gently, diverting her attention from Severus.

"Right after breakfast," she responded after taking a deep breath and turning away from Snape.

"That is impossible!" Snape snapped. "Potter was with me this morning for double potions!"

Pomona quickly turned back to the potions master, ready to lambast him again, when Dumbledore interrupted her.

"Was he?" Dumbledore inquired of Snape with a smile and a mischievous eye twinkle.

Snape's eyes seemed to pop out of his head as it all clicked into place.

"Polyjuice," Snape stated flatly.

"Polyjuice," Dumbledore agreed. "I warned you Severus. You will become a model professor or you will become an object lesson to your replacement."

Filius, Pomona, and Minerva were stunned into silence as they realized what had occurred. Dumbledore used polyjuice to impersonate Harry Potter for his first potions lesson with Snape!

"I warned you Severus. I warned you all. But I knew you would not be able to resist baiting young Harry. I also knew you would claim it was his word against yours. You are not as Slytherin as you think you are, Severus."

Snape reacted as if slapped.

"Indeed, I am more Slytherin than you are," Albus smiled mischievously, "as we have just proven."

"So, here is what is going to happen," all trace of humor gone from Albus' face, "You will cancel Harry's detentions. You will reverse the points you took from his house. You will not continue this crusade against James Potter through his son. And last, until you convince me you have changed your behavior, you will no longer be Head of Slytherin."

Everyone, even Professor Snape, was speechless. Dumbledore had never removed a head of house, even temporarily.

Dumbledore looked at each head of house in turn, letting them see he was completely serious.

He asked rhetorically, "Any questions?"

Surprisingly Snape was unable to keep quiet, "Who will be the temporary head of Slytherin?" (The stress on "temporary" was quite clearly heard.)

Albus popped another lemon drop before responding, "I believe I will take the position while you are otherwise engaged," eyes twinkling madly.

"Sir," Pomona timidly raised her hand, having forgotten the eggs she still held, "If you were in Harry's potions class, how will Harry deal with whatever you said or did during that class?"

Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled, "It has been taken care of."

**** Earlier in the day, just after 'Harry' was thrown out of class ****

**** Hospital wing, Dumbledore's PoV ****

Dumbledore asked Poppy, "I need to speak with our young Harry, alone please."

The school nurse was not interested, "I am in the middle of several scans. If I leave now, I will have to start over. Perhaps you could wait a few minutes."

Dumbledore decided to cast a compulsion charm, "I believe there is a book in the restricted section which would help you with this. You wouldn't want to miss anything by being too hasty, would you?" A slight and unnoticed hand movement and a little extra 'twinkle' sealed the charm.

Madame Pomfrey's eyes glazed for just a second before returning to normal, "I know just the book. Thank you for reminding me!" She adjusted her cap before heading for the doors. Poppy left with a last comment, "You don't leave him alone. Wait until I get back."

Dumbedore really hated using compulsion charms on staff, but sometimes the Greater Good required it. Smiling he turned to Harry, "You had an exciting first day in potions I hear".

Before Poppy returned, Harry had a new set of memories of how he 'just happened' to look at some books in the Hufflepuff common room this morning, as he waited for his dorm mates to get ready. It sure was lucky he flipped through the book and stopped on asphodel, wolfsbane, and wormwood. He remembered the bezoar thingy from a nature program he heard through his cupboard door when Dudley fell asleep watching cartoons.

"Oh, hello Headmaster. I must have dozed off," Harry apologized.

"Don't worry, young man. Many wish they could drift to sleep so easily. Enjoy it while you can." Dumbledore explained as he stood up. Poppy had just returned. "I will leave you in the capable hands of Madame Pomfrey."

As Albus left he gave Harry one last bit of comfort, "Don't worry about the point loss, Harry. I will take care of everything."

'Indeed, I will,' Dumbledore thought happily as he left Harry behind.

AN: Hope you liked it. Remember reviews not only show me you like (or dislike) certain parts, but can also help guide the story. You can thank Iphigelina for part of the next chapter. Thank you for the idea Iphigelina!

Chapter 8: Letters Home

************ Chap 8 **********************

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter. She is just nice enough to let us build sandcastles on her beach.

AN: A few quick points to answer some reviews and PMs:
1) Dumbledore is a manipulative bastard who sees people as chess pieces. In D&D alignment terms, he is Neutral Good (or True Neutral). His ultimate goal is to defeat Voldemort and he is willing to sacrifice what is needed to achieve that goal.
2) Draco is a manipulative bastard! Those who think I am making him "too nice", look harder. He is out for number one, himself. D&D alignment, Neutral Evil.
3) Harry, in this story, will vacillate between Neutral Good and True Neutral. One of his primary goals is to become strong enough, magically and politically, to protect House Potter and assure its survival.
I hope this helps clear a few things up!
AN: on a side note, I have started a very strict diet and I notice it is seriously screwing with my attention. I wanted to post something a bit longer, but decided this might be as much as I can force through my fingers today. I hope it does not disappoint.

*********************** Chapter Eight ****************************

Letters Home

Draco considered his first letter home as he thought about how to word his next.

Father,

I hope this letter finds you well.

Please give Mother my regards.

On the trip to Hogwarts I was able to befriend Harry Potter, as you suggested. It seems there is profit to be made by this association, if handled properly. Thank you for beginning my education so many years before my peers. So few of my year mates (I refuse to call them peers), even in Slytherin, realize magic is only a tool.

As we all knew I would be, even before I stepped on the train, I was sorted into Slytherin. The Slytherin common room and boy's dorms are as you described them. It seems nothing has changed. I look forward to exploring some of the secrets you have mentioned, when I have more time.

The biggest surprise of the evening was Harry Potter's sorting. He has been kept deliberately ignorant of the wizarding world, a point I wish to discuss with you in detail in person. Extracting an offer of friendship for the information he was denied, I spent the entire train ride trying to teach him as much as I could as fast as I could. I am pleased to report he is learns quickly, sees past the surface knowledge, and at this time has no ingrained bias against 'dark magic' or blood purity. While discussing Hogwarts student Houses, we decided he was most likely Slytherin bound. However, Harry decided he would attempt to go into another House, so his Slytherin traits would not be readily apparent. We decided Ravenclaw would be best, as he has the mind for it. However, at the Sorting, Harry was placed in Hufflepuff! I suspect why and if correct it will play into my long term plans for Harry.

Any suggestions for my first foray into the real world of politics and intrigue will be given the consideration and respect they deserve.

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

Scion of the Ancient House of Malfoy, Heir Apparent.

The reply had come with this morning's mail:

Draco,

You have taken your first steps into a much wider world.

You seem to be representing House Malfoy well.

Well done.

I look forward to hearing more of your plans for your Mr. Potter.

With pride,

Your father

Draco read and re-read that letter through the day. Father said he was proud of him. While he often indicated he was satisfied with his performance, this was the first time he had actually written it. He had also given tacit approval to his plans for Harry without being given a detailed breakdown of those plans. His Father was beginning to treat him as an adult! True, it was a small step, but every journey begins with the first step.

This was a very good day indeed!

Of course, this was before the Potter/Weasley drama at breakfast and then the Potter incident in the first potions class. Now Draco was just confused.

Due to the attention Harry had received after potions class, he had been unable to give Harry the books. Tomorrow then. Now he must compose another letter to his father.

Father,

I trust your plans for the day met with success.

Please tell mother I think of her often.

Potter has confused me today. On the train he informed me he had known about the magical world for only a month. He seemed to have limited knowledge in the basics, including common words, i.e. pureblood. Yet today at breakfast he managed to neuter the Weasleys with great efficacy, with the entire school as witness. He clearly applied some techniques and information I provided him yesterday, but the little I was able to give him in the short time we had on the train would have led to a different outcome. He had either more information or some other skill to accomplish what he did.

Then, in our first potions class, a Slytherin and Hufflepuff joint class, he displayed knowledge far beyond even a pureblood first year student when questioned by Professor Snape. Eventually Professor Snape required he leave the class to prevent further disruption. As Harry was leaving, he winked at me.

My first instinct tells me Harry has lied to me and is much more knowledgeable than he led me to believe on the train. However, his innocence and ignorance seemed genuine. If it was an act, I must concede is my superior in this realm for I never suspected.

However, I do not believe he deceived me. I believe something else is occurring, but I cannot determine what with the information I currently possess.

I would like your counsel on how to proceed.

Your Heir,

Draco

Draco,

You have given me much to consider.

Potter's behavior, as you have described it, is improbable. There is another factor at work, as you have rightly discerned. Finding it will take time.

For the moment, continue with your plans for your Mr. Potter and keep your eyes open. Secrets and subterfuge do not long withstand consistent scrutiny.

Your father

***** 8pm Slytherin Common Room, after the first day of classes ****

Everyone sat silently, observing everyone else. In a House filled with the ambitious and cunning, what else would you expect?

The logs crackled merrily in the large fireplace while a portrait of the Founder watched the gathering with disapproval. No one except Slytherins had seen this portrait in living memory. It showed a well-groomed man in his prime, dressed in formal robes and holding a wand. Paintings within the painting showed the elements of Statecraft; on the right a painting of a large body of men in formal robes, seated soberly discussing affairs of state in hushed tones; on the left a painting of a wizard in dragon armor, splattered with blood, ichor, and less pleasant things, standing uncontested in a field of bodies. Not immediately apparent were smaller paintings far back against the dark walls of Salazar's room; paintings of potions brewing and assassins creeping. Rumor had it, Salazar would only speak to the most worthy Slytherins. Of course, it is only a rumor. If Salazar has spoken to a student, the student kept it to himself.

The students watched as their head of house swept into the room. Without preamble, he began.

"The Headmaster has decided it is more important for me to attend to other tasks which will prevent me serving as your Head of House for the immediate future. I will continue to teach you potions and expect you to behave in a manner which elevates this House. Am I clear?"

The students sat in stunned silence. No one moved.

"I expect you to provide your full cooperation to whomever the Headmaster chooses to TEMPORARILY step in as Head of Slytherin. Any questions? Good."

Professor Snape pulled his wand and muttered something as he circled the room, freezing all the portraits in their frames, before returning to stand before the semi-circle of students.

"Now that the portraits have heard what they were meant to hear, I must warn you. Whoever the Headmaster chooses as Head for Slytherin, it is unlikely he will choose a former Slytherin."

Snape waited as the students absorbed the full impact of a non-Slytherin as Head of House.

"You can no longer expect the leniency I have shown you in previous years. Your actions will carry consequences as set in the student handbook. Do you understand?"

A sixth year student raised his hand and waited to be recognized.

"Yes, Flint? Your question?" Snape said.

"Sir, will this affect quidditch?"

Snape smiled. 'Trust Flint to bring up that topic.' "No, Mr. Flint. It will not affect your ability to play quidditch. However I strongly suspect our tactics will have to change. Cheating is unlikely to be tolerated."

Several students began to protest at this, their voices blending into a cacophony of displeasure. Snape stood dispassionately until silence returned.

"I begin to see I have done my House a disservice in allowing such thing. Are you, or are you not Slytherins? Ambition and Cunning are the traits for which we are known. Getting caught cheating is beneath us. Consider this a test of your worthiness to be Slytherin. Are you worthy? Or were you sorted into the wrong House?"

A fourth year raised his hand and waited.

"Yes Mr. Bole?"

"Sir, you said 'getting caught cheating is beneath us'", Bole said with a raised eyebrow.

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Your question?"

Bole smiled, "But what if we don't get caught?"

Snape grinned maliciously, "Mr. Bole, no one has ever been punished for what he was not caught doing. However, be aware, if your actions are sufficiently egregious, your entire year, if not the entire House, could be punished for your actions, if you leave evidence connecting either with the act. We are Slytherin. I do not believe the Headmaster expects us to become Hufflepuffs or" Snape paused as a disgusted look visited his face, "Gryffindors. Cunning. Ambition. Learn it. Live by it. And never… EVER… trust what you think you know."

Snape tapped his wand to his head and suddenly Harry Potter stood before them, "After all, the world is full of magic…"

Again Snape tapped his head with his wand and his features melted into those of the Headmaster, "For you never know who you are talking to…" He tapped his head again, fading from sight, "Or who is really there to see you…"

"Good night." The students heard as the dungeon entrance opened and closed.

Draco looked at Daphne, "You don't think…?"

Daphne raised an eyebrow before turning to walk to her dorm.

Dumbledore whistled as he returned to his office from the Slytherin common room.
"It is going to be a fun year!"

Chapter 9: Performance Enhancers

Disclaimer: All Hail JKR! She who brought us HP and allows such a rich world of fanfic to arise. Three Cheers: Hip, hip, Hooray! Hip, hip, Hooray! Hip, hip, Hooray!

AN: I am not writing nearly as much as I thought I would. A big thanks to every fanfic author who manages to keep a consistent schedule of updates. I don't know how you do it, but I am grateful!
AN: I am currently trying a one-shot fanfic based on Lily and her actions between the time Dumbledore tells them the prophecy and when she dies. I have it completely outlined and about 7 scenes into writing it. Hope to post it in the near future.
AN: for this fic, I have a long-term outline, but the devil is in the details… So, here is the next installment! (Hopefully it will stitch the juggling into the story line, since juggling is what gave me the initial idea for the story!)

********Chapter 9********

Performance Enhancers

Harry thought the day had started pretty well. He and Neville were getting to know each other and even Wayne was starting to open up a bit. Justin, Ernest, and Zacharias were still acting a bit stand-offish, but seemed to be thawing a little. Harry could not understand what their issue was, but Draco said it was probably because of the whole Head of House thing.

Apparently the rule of thumb was, if you are not raised in a magical household with wizarding etiquette practically drilled into you from birth, when at all possible avoid Heads of House and heirs. While this behavior makes sense for them, it impeded Harry's plans for House Potter.

Leanne and Megan enjoyed watching Harry juggle, so they would beg for a performance each night in the common room. Harry had decided to indulge them as long as it didn't interfere with his studies. It seemed like a good way to break the ice within Hufflepuff. As long as they were concentrating on the juggling, they acted more naturally, forgetting his Head of House status for a bit. It also garnered attention from the upper years who used the juggling balls as target practice, attempting to hit them with color changing charms. One sixth year decided to get cute and hit one with a stinging jinx which knocked it out of the pattern. A loud chorus of "Bad show!" and "Boo!" accompanied the frowns of disapproval from everyone in the common room, except Harry. Harry knew someone would eventually attempt to interfere; he was just surprised it took so long.

Tonks continued to beg him to teach her, but he stuck to his original offer; if she would teach Harry to change like she did. She eventually explained it was an inherited ability and could not be taught. Harry looked very disappointed before adding, "Well, I would teach anyone in my family that wanted to learn."

The common room reacted to his casual remark in a major way. Had someone been quick enough, the speed of sound could have been measured by how fast conversations across the room ceased.

Tonks stood frozen, her brain revving to the max but seemingly unable to get in gear.

Harry smiled at her before giving her something to think about, "Obviously I would teach my wife, if she wanted to learn." His smile brightened as if he had just thought of something funny, "But who would want to marry me?"

Every female in the common room stopped breathing, eyes widening in a bewildering mix of emotions; from fear to anxiety to hope. The pause was as pregnant as a pause could get…

Tilting his head to the side, Harry looked Tonks in the eyes as he said, "Would you want to marry me?"

The color drained out of Tonk's face and hair, leaving her pale as a ghost, literally. As the seconds ticked by and Harry raised an eyebrow waiting for her answer, she became aware she was standing in the middle of the common room, with everyone watching her in total silence. A bright red blush exploded back into her face and hair as she turned and sprinted to the girl's dorms.

Harry turned to the room, "I guess that is a no".

Walking over to Cedric he put out his hand. Cedric shook his head before rising and heading for his room. A few minutes later he was back with a small leather bag and handed it to Harry. "I can't believe you did it…" Cedric plopped unceremoniously on the couch. "We have been trying for years to make her blush. No one has won that pool since she was a fourth year. Every year it keeps rolling over…" Cedric seemed lost in thought.

Harry smiled, taking the pouch, "It was a pleasure doing business with you!" before he headed off for bed.

Up in his dorm room, Harry thought about the incident. Winning the galleon pool was the least of his victories this evening. He had introduced the idea of marriage into House Potter. Harry smiled mischievously. That seed would blossom and pay dividends for many years to come, since he had no intention of making a decision for Lady Potter anytime soon. Still, it would increase interest in himself and thus would provide opportunities for his plan to bear fruit. Likewise he had proven himself up to a challenge, raising his reputation among the males in Hogwarts, once knowledge of his win became common knowledge. While Harry had not lived in Hogwarts long, he had already recognized the efficiency of the rumor mill. He would be surprised if everyone did not know by lunch tomorrow. But ultimately he had increased the value of his claim as Head of House Potter. Not that anyone could contest via a stronger claim, but there were those who would benefit by keeping Harry from claiming his rightful place in society. Sadly, it seemed Dumbledore was one of those, which is why Harry was moving very carefully.

Draco had been very helpful, presenting him with books on pureblood etiquette, pureblood history in England and France, oaths, rituals, various types of magical debts, and the duties and obligations of a Head of House. It was difficult reading, but Harry set aside no less than an hour each evening to read. These books helped Harry lay the foundations for his long term plans. The diary Draco provided was nothing short of brilliant! Harry could write to Draco and Draco could respond, all without anyone knowing they were talking to each other. This was important for Draco's plan to position Harry politically. Since Draco's plan increased the likelihood of success for Harry's plan, Harry was more than willing to play along. Distance was a problem for the diaries, so they could not write to each other while in their common rooms. However, when they were not close enough to communicate, the diaries would hold the message until they were within 30 feet of each other and then pass the comments along. With meals in the Great Hall and most classes together, it was a reasonable method of secure communication.

The morning after making Tonks blush, Ernest Macmillan decided to take Harry down a few pegs. Apparently Harry had made too good of an impression on the other Hufflepuffs, especially the first year girls. Some of the first and second year boys had decided Harry had an unfair advantage in winning the hearts of all those fair maidens. Ernest was willing to take the risk in setting Harry in his place, for the possible advantage of being seen as a leader among the younger males.

Too bad he decided to make his play in Charms.

After the class was seated, Professor Flitwick continued the previous day's lesson, the theory of charms and the theory of practical applications. With his back to the room, he walked along an elevated walkway in front of the chalkboard, drawing the movements the wand would make for all the first year charms, before turning and demonstrating for the class. He would go through the movements directly facing the class, then again turned sideways with his wand arm on display. Each spell was demonstrated three times each way. The incantations were not demonstrated. This class was strictly to demonstrate the poke, point, swish, rotate, and flick motions, all of which would be used in the first year charms.

Apparently Macmillan became bored and decided to make his play.

"Professor Flitwick" Ernest said, raising his hand.

Surprised at the interruption, but always eager for student interaction, the professor recognized Ernest and indicated he should speak.

"Professor would it be possible to impede our progress in wand motions unintentionally?"

The question would have gained immediate laughter in an older class, but few first years caught the risqué meaning. However, Flitwick noticed the smirk Ernest displayed and the eyes of other students glancing toward him as if in support.

"Indeed Mr. Macmillan. It is possible, although highly improbable. Do you have a hobby you think might be detrimental to your education this year?" Flitwick cocked and eyebrow and waited.

Smothered giggles were now heard, as the comments became a bit to blatant for even first years not to figure out there was something to laugh about, although no one was exactly certain what it was. Ernest still felt the sting of being the butt of a joke to his peers, but decided the best way to proceed was to push on through.

"Professor, Mr. Potter juggles, constantly. He spends up to an hour every night in our common room throwing balls in the air in different patterns. I am concerned it might be harming his ability to perform in the future."

This time the giggling was louder, as that was clearly a jab at Harry.

Harry raised his hand.

Professor Flitwick knew this could end poorly, but decided to see how much the young Lord Potter had learned. He acknowledged Harry and motioned for him to speak.

Harry stood and addressed Ernest, "The Most Ancient and Nobel House of Potter recognizes the interests of the House of Macmillan in this matter. Should my avocation prove to be a detriment to my duties and obligations as Head of the Most Ancient and Nobel House of Potter, I will of course desist."

Turning to fully face Ernest, "As a matter of some minor significance, it is noted Ernest Macmillan of the House of Macmillan has chosen to disrespect the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. I formally request Mr. Macmillan either publicly apologize or a meeting to be scheduled with the Head of House Macmillan to facilitate the withdrawal, nullification, and penalties to be assessed for this breach of contract and withdrawal from long-standing agreements and treaties with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

The longer Harry spoke, the whiter Ernest became until Professor Flitwick began to worry for his health.

Justin was sitting beside Ernest, as usual. He didn't understand all of what Harry was saying, but he knew it was important and NOT GOOD for his friend. Seeing his friend was not moving, Justin elbowed him hard enough to get his mind moving again.

That elbow was exactly what the doctor ordered as it got Ernest thinking again, instead of the previous circular train of thought which could be summed up most succinctly as "OhShitOhShitOhShit…"

Standing and facing Harry, Ernest began well… earnestly, "Lord Potter. Please accept my sincerest apologies for my poorly chosen words to address the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. It was not meant to indicate any desire of the House of Macmillan to withdraw from any accords between our Houses." Mr. Macmillan bowed his head respectfully and waited for Harry to reply.

"The Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter recognizes the apology of Ernest Macmillan of House Macmillan and accepts it in the spirit in which it is given." Then Harry sat down with a regal air, returning his attention to the front of the class and Professor Flitwick.

"Yes, well…" Filius began, "to address your concern Mr. Macmillan, most of the Master Duelists, myself included, have some avocation which improves their hand/eye dexterity. I recall a duelist who threw knives for relaxation. At ten feet, he could slice a playing card in two… edgewise. At thirty feet, he could pick which eye he wanted to hit. Knife throwing exercised what he needed to be a Master Duelist. Fortunately or not, depending on your perspective, his wife was not happy with decision to duel professionally. So, he and his relatives are living in very colorful wagons, traveling through Europe. Last I spoke to him, he was deliriously happy, awaiting his eighth child while teaching his eldest to throw a knife like daddy."

The professor continued, "Lord Potter, would you please come forward for a demonstration?"

Harry looked mildly surprised, but walked around the desks to stand before the diminutive professor.

"Lord Potter, may I call you Harry in class?"

Harry nodded once.

"Harry, did you watch the lesson so far?"

Harry nodded again.

"Of course you did. Did you understand the lesson?"

Harry took on a pensive look, examining the question for traps, but finding none, nodded again.

"Harry, would you please face the room. Take out your wand and as I call them out, show the wand movements for each charm."

Harry took his wand in hand and waited for the spells to be called.

Filius called out the charms in the order they were written on the chalkboard, left to right, "poke, point, swish, rotate, flick".

Harry performed each movement with perfection and a grace most would lack three years hence.

Draco raised his hand, causing Filius to call upon him.

"Sir, every child raised in a magical household would know the basic wand motions. That as a given, Lord Potter's performance is hardly exceptional. Perhaps a more rigorous example is possible?"

"Mr. Malfoy, while your initial comment has merit, I am somewhat unsure what you intend by 'a more rigorous example'?"

"Simple, Sir", Draco smiled evilly at Harry, "Show Lord Potter the wand movements for all the first year charms. Then test him to see if he can reproduce them."

"Mr. Malfoy, I hardly think…"

"I'll do it", Harry inserted himself smoothly into the conversation. "I enjoy a challenge and this seems appropriate, given the topic of conversation."

"Very well, Harry", the professor said, wondering if the young Lord had put his foot in it.

Professor Flitwick stood Harry at the front of the class and called for volunteers to act as controls. Draco, Daphne, and Blaise joined Harry as did Neville, and Ernest (at Harry's insistence).

Professor Flitwick then named a charm and demonstrated the wand movements for that charm three times while facing them. He then lined them up, Harry on one end, Draco on the other and was about to start when a familiar voice sounded from the rear of the class room. Everyone looked to find the Headmaster, but he was not seen at first, slowly fading into sight as the disillusionment was gradually dispelled. Not a very useful method to dispel the charm, but very dramatic when done before a group of first years.

"Professor Flitwick. Might I be the judge of this contest?"

"Of course Headmaster." Flitwick moved to the side to allow the Headmaster to run things.

"No, Filius. Please, take your place in the center, between Mr. Zabini and Mr. Macmillan."

Professor Flitwick moved as directed, turning to face the Headmaster.

"Students, you have a rare opportunity here. I do not believe all the wand movements for all first year charms have ever been demonstrated this early in the semester. Pay close attention so you may benefit from this largesse," the Headmaster intoned solemnly. "Professor Flitwick will be an excellent example and will be the standard the others should be judged against. Filius, proceed at 'student speed' if you will."

"Of course, Headmaster".

Dumbledore continued, "I have cast a teaching charm, with your professor as the standard. Each student will be judged against him. Minor deviations in wand movements will generate a bluish halo around the wand tip. More severe deviations will generate follow the colors of the rainbow, with the most severe deviations showing as a dark red. Wand motions which bear no resemblance to the required movements will generate a black halo. Deviations are cumulative, therefore by the end of the test, most of you should have a black halo around your wand tip. Are there any questions?"

No one said anything, so Dumbledore began. "I will call out the spells for the first year charms. Perform the wand motions within five seconds. After five seconds the next spell will be called. Now we begin."

"Levitation….., Light….., Beam Light….., Fire….., Softening….., Severing….., Locking….., Unlocking….., Mending…..".

"As you can see by the bluish halo around his wand tip, Lord Potter performed each wand movement almost perfectly. This is a truly impressive feat for a first year. However, given the difficulty of watching another juggler to learn his routines, what we have asked Harry to do is child's play." Dumbledore proclaimed with amusement.

"All but Lord Potter and Professor Flitwick, please return to your seat."

The other students carried their black halo'd wands back to their seats, except for Draco who had managed to keep an orange halo.

"Professor Flitwick, the spell is still active. Please stand behind Lord Potter and we shall do this again, in random order."

After five minutes of random calls for first year charms, Dumbledore called an end to the test. All noted Harry's wand tip now had a faint greenish halo.

"Harry's performance here is nothing short of impressive. Allow one more demonstration. Lord Potter. Please cast the light spell." Dumbledore asked.

Harry looked confused, but performed the wand movement perfectly.

Nothing happened.

Dumbledore smiled, "Ah, we need the incantation too. It is "Lumos". Try again."

Once more Harry performed the wand motion and added the incantation.

Nothing happened.

"Very good, Lord Potter. You may sit down now." Dumbledore said cheerfully.

As Harry was walking to his seat, Dumbledore explained. "Harry has a large advantage in being able to memorize hand/wand movements quickly. But without the underlying theory, it is worthless. I tell you this not to embarrass Harry, but to impress upon you that his advantage is not insurmountable. He will still have to study, learn, understand. The wand movements are just one piece of the puzzle that is magic."

"Filius, if you don't mind, may I have your class for the remainder of their time?"

"Of course, Headmaster."

"Everyone, pick up your materials and follow me", Albus walked to the doorway and waited until everyone was ready. "Walk with me. We are going to the sixth floor."

Many flights of stairs later, the Headmaster led them through a seldom used hallway before stopping before a wizarding portrait.

"This is Merlin." Dumbledore indicated the portrait with a grand arm gesture and regal tone.

The portrait showed a wizard in bright robes, much like the headmaster, walking the grounds of a large castle. Most amazing to every student, especially Harry, was the simple fact… Merlin was juggling! He completely ignored the students as he continued to move the brightly colored balls through their patterns, smiling like a child playing with his favorite toy.

Dumbledore huffed slightly, "This is a portrait of Merlin. You may wonder why it is not in the Ministry or a pureblood home or a vault deep in Gringotts. The answers are simple. To start with, the portrait refuses to stay in Gringotts. When it is placed there, Merlin leaves the portrait and wanders without bounds, potentially appearing in any magical portrait anywhere. As you can imagine, this caused some concern. So, not in Gringotts. Why not the Ministry? For the same reason it is not placed in a pureblood home. The portrait is not regal, formal or serious enough for politicians and 'stuffy old coots'. By the way, those are his words, not mine. Yes, he did talk to me… once. He told me I should learn to juggle, but I did not have time for it then and have not gotten around to it since. So, he quit talking to me."

"Harry, you seem to be upset. Is something wrong?" Dumbledore asked with grandfatherly concern.

"Sir, those patterns… they violate the laws of physics…"

"Well, Harry, it is a magical portrait." Dumbledore said condescendingly.

The other students giggled at Harry's discomfort.

Dumbledore waved them to silence. "Harry, I would like you to try juggling in front of Merlin's portrait."

Harry nodded numbly.

Taking three balls from his robes, he began a simple cascade.

The portrait of Merlin suddenly seemed to be very attentive and put away all but three balls and mimicked Harry's pattern. After a minute, Merlin added a fourth ball and moved into a two ball double fountain before moving back to a four ball cascade. Continuing the pattern, he smiled at Harry.

Ok, this was a game Harry was familiar with. Jugglers testing, taunting, and sometimes humiliating each other while establishing the pecking order. Since the previous patterns Harry had witnessed Merlin using were well beyond Harry's ability, this was not a challenge. It was a test to see if he was worthy. Well, as they used to say in the park, "Game on, muthaphucker!"

Harry took out a fourth ball, adding it to his cascade, then following Merlin's pattern. Before Merlin could add another, Harry added his last two (he only carried six routinely) balls and mentally prepared for his most difficult trick, as he fed the six through fountains, showers, and cascades. As he watched Merlin add two more balls and match him toss for toss, his smile increasing as the ball count grew.

Harry took a deep breath and entered his most difficult routine, a routine he had never tried with six balls and never in front of anyone, praying he would not embarrass himself in front of another juggler, even if it was just a portrait! As Harry caught each ball, he threw it to the ground between him and the wall, twisting his wrist as he threw to impart spin to the ball. Each ball would get a different amount of spin, hitting the floor and taking off at an angle to hit the wall, before bouncing back at Harry. Each spin was carefully calibrated to bring the ball back to Harry in a line, starting at his elbows, if his arms were held straight sideways, then his shoulders, then his eyes. As each pair came back, he would send it away again with more speed, building up to a blindingly fast level. Just as he feared he would start missing catches, he caught each ball in his hand, ending with three balls in each hand and sweat dripping from his face and robes. He felt as if he had run for miles.

No one made a sound as they stared in awe at the Boy-Who-Lived.

Then a sound came, clear and distinct. A slow clap.

Looking toward the sound, Harry saw Merlin looking at him and clapping, his smile growing. What happened next surprised everyone, even the Headmaster.

Merlin spoke to Harry, "You have potential. When you have free time, come see me. I will show you some routines that will amaze everyone… even Him." Then he pulled out three balls and started juggling as he walked out of the frame.

Dumbledore broke them from their silence, "It is time for your next class. Professor Flitwick, will you please escort them to their next classes."

"Of course, Headmaster." Flitwick was amazed also. He knew the painting was there and had often come by to look at it his first year teaching. But the portrait had never spoken to him. Even when he juggled in front of it. Although, in the interest of honesty, Filius had never tried anything beyond basic three and four ball cascades. Apparently that did not get Merlin's attention. But Harry, Harry was something else. Something amazing.

Flitwick kept his thoughts to himself as he escorted the students to the second floor.

Unnoticed amongst the excitement, Dumbledore had stayed in the hallway before the now empty portrait, considering what he had seen. It seemed Harry was unaware, but he had moved with inhuman grace and speed. His magic was clearly aiding him. But obviously Harry did not realize he was using magic, a little passive legilimency had ascertained that. Not only that, but the balls themselves were beginning to change, gaining an aura.

Dumbledore did not know what all this meant.

And he never liked not knowing…

AN: Ok, finally we have gotten our toe in the water of the main plot I envisioned when I started writing this! I hope you have enjoyed it.

Chapter 10: Flying Tiger

AN: Nope, still got boy parts… so it is highly improbable that I am the owner of Harry Potter. I am however, very grateful said owner allows us to build our sandcastles from her sand. Thank You JKR. (Even though I think you totally missed the boat when you shipped Harry and Ginny…. ;) )

Chapter Ten

Flying Tiger

Harry was spending more and more time in front of Merlin's portrait. At first it was only an hour or so per day. Between curfew, classes and studying, there was not enough time. He had found his juggling improving. Merlin would demonstrate a new technique and then practice it while Harry tried to master it. Until the new technique was mastered, Merlin would not show anything else. It was extremely frustrating, but likewise an interesting challenge. It was also paying off during his evenings in the common room, garnering even more attention… especially since Professor Flitwick explained many master duelers used eye-hand hobbies to improve their dueling skills.

Now the upper years were looking at Harry as if they were gauging just how dangerous he would be when he learned to duel. It was kind of creepy! All the time Dudley had forced him to spend in the park had helped Harry 'get over' being the center of attention. But when upper year students looked at him as if evaluating whether they should establish their reputations by beating him now, while they still could… Yep… definitely creepy!

Add to all that, being the youngest seeker in a century, and Harry had all the attention he could handle and then some.

And of course, his additional elevation into the limelight could be laid firmly at Draco's feet…

Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had the first flying class. Things did not go as Madame Hooch had planned. After the various stories had been sorted out, it seemed three Gryffs had engaged in some horseplay. While the official reports did not indicate which students were directly involved, the infirmary did admit Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, and Ronald Weasley for various broken bits.

Rumor had it, Ron used a high speed pass (which was definitely against the rules for the class) to swipe Hermione's hat. While Hermione attempted to get Madame Hooch's attention, Ron had recruited Seamus and Dean into a game of keep-away. They got frustrated that Hermione refused to chase them, so they began trying to strip it from each other before flying off with it. Just as Madame Hooch started to yell at them for ignoring the rules, they managed to collide and exceeded the tolerances of the old brooms causing all three to plummet to earth on their way to some quality time with Madame Pomfrey.

Hooch had tried to get Ron expelled and the other two suspended; and failing that settled for all three getting a week's suspension. Unfortunately, although the Gryffindor Head of House agreed to the suspensions, the Headmaster did not, commuting the suspensions to time served in the infirmary and the pain of their injuries as sufficient punishment. His, "Boys will be boys" did nothing to sooth the furious flying instructor.

When Slytherin and Hufflepuff had their first flying lesson the next day, Madame Hooch spent the first thirty minutes of the allotted instruction time explaining exactly what was expected of every student and her intention to punish any transgressions harshly BEFORE mentioning any incident to the Headmaster. Filch stood to the side with a wide grin and what looked like thumbscrews attached to several feet of sturdy chain. Filch's grin slowly faded and eventually becoming a grimace of disgust: the students' behavior was exemplary under this obvious threat.

Each student achieved the required proficiency, minimal though it was: stand, call your broom, lift off and hover. Madame Hooch was smiling again. Since they had been so attentive and performed so well, there was additional class time remaining. As Filch stomped off, rattling his chains as he went, Madame Hooch decided to reward the class.

Madame Hooch took a deep breath before calling loudly, "Your lesson is complete. Those wishing to gain more experience flying may stay. The rest may return to the castle."

"Those wishing to fly, please mount your broom and do exactly as I do. Those choosing to act out will be grounded and given detention with Mr. Filch. Very well, follow me."

Madame Hooch led them around the Quidditch field several times, satisfied with the behavior before calling out, "Free play! Nothing dangerous. If you have to wonder if it might be dangerous, Don't Do It! Enjoy!" Madame Hooch hovered above centerpitch, watching the students with only mild trepidation.

Draco decided this would be a good time to assert his leadership without stepping on Harry's toes. After all, Harry had grown up without magic, and this was his first time on a broom, so expectations were low.

"Follow the leader!" Draco shouted as he raced off (well, as fast as a school broom older than his father could manage) toward the other end of the Quidditch pitch.

Crabbe and Goyle knew Draco well and had pointed their brooms in the same direction as his, even before he called out the game. This allowed them to be just barely behind Draco, fanning out to form a simple wedge formation.

Several 'Puffs had already noted Draco's skill and sincerely doubted they could keep up with whatever he would try. These wise Puffs retired from the field as others, including Harry, chased Draco.

Draco stopped at the far rings, waiting for everyone to arrive before waggling his eyebrows, "I will attempt a trick. Everyone else will then try it. If I fail the trick, then I am no longer leader. If anyone else can successfully pull of that same trick, they become the leader. Anyone who cannot perform the trick, or doesn't want to try, is grounded for the rest of the game. Any questions?"

No one had any.

"Very well. First trick. Two handed sloth roll." Draco said as he demonstrated the technique flawlessly. A relatively simple trick in Draco's mind, yet Longbottom and Smith drifted away to watch from the sidelines. Everyone else did ok. A few didn't quite throw themselves hard enough to completely rotate, but a hard jerk brought the broom back under them. 'Close enough for first years,' Draco thought condescendingly.

"Next trick. Fly through a hoop."

Draco noted the smirk on Nott's face. He obviously knew what was going to happen.

Draco flew through at his broom's fastest speed, leaning low on his broom and his head almost brushing the top of the hoop.

Nott followed quickly, barrel rolling through the exact center at half speed.

Blaise was not so lucky. Flying through at half speed, he suddenly dove straight at the ground, recovering just enough not to slam into the ground.

"Out" Draco jeered.

Macmillan made his run. Ernie decided speed was the issue; too slow and you crash. So, he made his run dead center at speed, but he still ended up hitting the ground, just not at as steep an angle as Blaise had.

"Out!" Draco laughed.

After the ring, only Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Draco, Harry and Hopkins were still playing.

Draco pulled out two galleons, flew to a spot 50 feet from the hoops and laid them down shoulder length apart.

"Next trick, we are combining moves. Through a hoop, two handed sloth roll, landing on the galleons here. Your feet must cover both galleons completely for it to count."

Draco immediately mounted his broom, flew high behind the goals, turned and dived straight through, immediately sloth rolling, before slamming into the ground on both feet. Inwardly groaning at the stress on his knees, he checked both feet to assure he had covered the galleons completely. He had.

Only Draco, Harry, Crabbe, and Goyle completed this trick. Nott had half a galleon visible on his left and Hopkins managed to miss the right galleon entirely.

The Malfoy heir was becoming increasingly wary of Harry. No one is that good on their very first day of lessons!

So far Harry had managed all the tricks with an effortless grace that made Draco slightly envious. Harry claimed today was his first time on a broom. If true, then Harry was a natural.

Draco's first flying lesson had been at age 4 and he had flown daily since. He decided it was time to push and see if Harry was a novice with aptitude or something else.

"One handed sloth roll, just above the pitch. If your hair doesn't touch the grass, you didn't do it right!" Draco laughed as he dove toward the pitch, performing the roll while waving at Harry with his free hand.

Crabbe and Goyle looked nervous, but tried. Neither succeeded. Crabbe's hair didn't touch the grass and Goyle's hair touch… a little too much. As Goyle started his roll it became immediately apparent he did not have enough height. Instead of pulling tight to his broom, he tried to prevent his head hitting the ground by pushing against the ground with his free hand. Bad move! His had provided a pivot for his momentum, placing the broom in a flat spin as it plummeted the remaining inches to the ground. Even the intended purpose of sacrificing his hand (everyone heard the wrist snap!) was not achieved as the side of his head was snapped back in the process of providing the pitch with a new divot.

Madame Hooch was moving as soon as the accident was inevitable, before the damage was actually done.

"HOLD!" She cried as her broom rocketed to Goyle.

Jumping off her broom she knelt beside Goyle, checking his vital signs with her wand and breathing a sigh of relief as she verified he was still alive. Levitating him, she ran toward the castle, yelling behind her, "Ground your brooms now!"

Draco was in a quandary. He really wanted to know if Harry could do that trick, but not badly enough to try to get him into trouble. He was not to be in disappointed long.

Harry dropped his broom above the pitch, heading for the other students already grounded. With a mighty "WOOHOO" he threw his weight to the side, performing one, two, three perfect one handed sloth rolls, before pulling back hard on his broom. The poor broom shuddered as its momentum was dissipated by the maneuver, dropping Harry lightly to his feet beside the other students. Picking grass from his hair, he looked around at the students who stood there gaping at him in silence.

"What?" Harry asked innocently. "I landed immediately. Just like Madame Hooch said."

Draco shook his head in disbelief. "You are certain this is your first time on a broom?"

Harry just nodded enthusiastically, as though Christmas, Easter, Halloween, and his birthday had all come at once.

It was definitely time for Draco to write another letter to his father.

AN: Short chapter, but I hate cliffies and adding to this would cause one. I will try to get another chapter out in a couple of days to make up for the shortness of this one.
Also: I am aware the students rarely wear hats. I needed Hermione to have something easily stolen for a game of keep away. Assume she was making a 'muggle-joke' about witches, tall hats and brooms. :D

Chapter 11: Chapter 11 Laying Foundations

AN: THANK YOU! 100+ favs and 200+ follows for a completely unknown fanfic author! I know that is not much for the established guys, but I am happy and thankful!
PS, a special thanks to Riana Miako who double dinged, giving me the 100th fav and 200th follow. Thanks Riana!

AN: I am going to try a different technique for this chapter. Be sure to review and tell me if you like it or not. If you hate it, I won't do it again. Help me learn to be a better author! :D
AN: This is also my longest chapter to date, as the technique (reverse chronology) required I complete the chapter before posting it. I had hoped to post sooner than this.
I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Chapter 11

Laying Foundations

The Great Hall was almost deafening as the drone of hundreds of low conversations joined to create an incomprehensible din. Rumors about the troll were running rampant. Everyone knew 'something' happened last night, but very few knew what. Even fewer knew the consequences of that evening.

Harry took a deep breath as one of those consequences entered the Hall, standing still, quickly scanning the Hall before locking her gaze on Harry. Hermione inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before slowly exhaling. Her face became resolute as she took her first stride toward Harry, each subsequent step seemed to become easier for her, until she was coming toward the Hufflepuff table in a slow, almost ceremonial march.

The noise level died as more people became aware of Hermione's behavior. Her gait might have drawn a bit of attention, but it was her attire which stopped conversations. A pure white linen gown with loose sleeves moved gracefully with her every step. Each step also confirmed, to those close enough to see, Hermione was barefoot; her bare toes extending from beneath the hem with each step, only to be quickly hidden once more. Her hair, normally a bushy halo, was tamed by small, long braids which crisscrossed her hair. Small white and crystal beads were woven into the braids, sparkling in the light of the Great Hall. Each curve of braid possessed a sheen, hinting to the females of Hogwarts how she had tamed her normally unruly hair. (The males remained clueless, with few exceptions.)

Silence reigned as she walked to Harry; a silence so profound the wings of a snitch would have been clearly heard by all.

Harry watched her come to him. He knew what was about to happen, yet his calm face was a lie. Butterflies the size of Dudley's cast offs were threatening to expel his light breakfast. Forcing himself to exhibit a calm he did not feel, he rose and met her in the center of the Hall.

Hermione had stopped in the center of the Hall, waiting for Harry to approach. When he was within arm's reach, she knelt gracefully.

Harry took one last step, standing directly in front of her before leaning down to whisper a question only she could hear, "Are you sure?"

Hermione's answer was so soft, only the utter stillness of the Great Hall allowed even Harry to hear it, "Yes".

Harry rose to stand before Hermione as she bowed her head, crossing her wrists and extending her arms up toward Harry.

The silence at last broken as every pureblood inhaled sharply, certain what was happening would change everything.

The Headmaster shook his head in annoyance. There was nothing he could do to stop this. THIS was just a formality. The damage was done the night previous, in a bathroom of all places.

Harry took Hermione's wrists in his left hand.

"Do you wish to be mine in all things?" Harry queried, starting the ritual.

An electric tension filled the Hall, raising hairs along the observer's arms.

Hermione's voice answered clearly, "Yes".

Harry nodded "I find you acceptable to be a vassal of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Are you prepared to swear fealty?"

"Yes".

The magic seemed to vibrate in anticipation.

"Proceed".

Hermione took a deep breath and spoke the words which would changer her life forever.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, do hereby swear;
Fealty and service unto the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Lord Harry James Potter.
To speak and to be silent, to do and to let be,
To come and to go, in need and in plenty,
In peace and in war, in living and in dying,
From this hour henceforth, until my Lord release me,
Death take me, or the world end."

With each line, the electric feel of the Hall intensified, but no one noticed. Everyone's eyes were glued to Harry and Hermione and the yellow glow growing around their combined hands.

With his free hand, Harry lifts Hermione's chin until she is looking in his eyes.

"I, Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter,
Hear and shall not forget,
Nor fail to reward that which is freely given:
Fealty with Love,
Valor with Honor,
and Oathbreaking with Vengeance.
Rise now and go in peace and with my protection."

As Harry spoke, the glow grew brighter and larger, eventually covering them both completely.

As Harry spoke the last line, completing the ritual, the glow seeped into their bodies as a loud POP was heard.

Helping Hermione to her feet, Harry's left hand felt strange. Looking at it, he saw what had not been there before the ritual, a large ring with the Potter coat of arms.

Draco had watched the entire scene from the Slytherin tables. Everything had gone exactly as he had planned, even the ring's appearance on Harry's hand, confirming Harry's status as Head of House. Draco was ecstatic, although he hid it behind his emotionless public mask. No one knew, not even Harry, that Draco had made his first major move on the political stage.

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter would continue to grow in numbers and strength.

Draco would accept nothing less.

Halloween

Harry was spending too much time with Merlin. He was well aware of this. In fact, he was starting to see the portrait as a person instead of a portrait. It was hard not to. Merlin spoke to him like he was another juggler. Harry's summers in the park, talking trade with the other jugglers, was the closest to real human contact he had before coming to Hogwarts. Speaking of, what the hell? Who would name a school anything 'hog' or 'wart' related? Back to the point, Harry was spending too much time with Merlin.

Professor Sprout had reminded Harry attending the Halloween feast was a non-optional social obligation. Well, she did not use those exact words, but that was the meaning. So, when Harry found himself in front of Merlin, practicing a new catch/pass/throw, he was not surprised when one of the other portraits entered Merlin's frame to chastise him for being late to the feast. Merlin did something strange with the balls he was tossing currently and the other portrait seemed annoyed and left. Harry thought he would be able to skip the feast and stay with Merlin for the evening. Halloween did not seem as much fun, after he found out why the wizarding world celebrated.

"Harry," Merlin interrupted his thoughts, "You need to go to the feast. No need to annoy the bearded one. At least, not yet…" Merlin grinned mischievously and waggled his eyebrows. "Cheerio, pip-pip and all that rot. I will see you tomorrow I am certain, young Lord. In the meantime, hurry to the feast and be sure to practice that catch/toss/pass before I see you again." With that Merlin started whistling as he wandered into the background of his frame.

"Well, might as well get it over with. If nothing else, there will be plenty of treacle tarts." Harry smiled. Of all the desserts he had discovered at Hogwarts, treacle tarts were easily his favorite.

Hurrying from Harry's corridor, as he had come to think of it, he was completely intending to go to straight to the Great Hall. It was not his fault a scream interrupted his diligent attempt to attend the feast. He would be able to swear that quite truthfully. The opportunity … er… obligation to render assistance to a fellow human being just happened to take precedence! Harry smiled as he raced toward the intermittent screaming. With luck, this would delay him enough to miss the feast entirely! He might even sneak in some more time with Merlin.

Running along the corridor, the screams were joined by a bestial grunt, then a great clatter, as if someone threw all the stoneware in the kitchen against the wall (and also ground the pieces against each other for good measure).

As Harry skidded to a halt, he realized he was in the loo and not the one he was supposed to use either! The screaming was nearly constant now and emanated from the bushy haired Ravenclaw he had met on the train, Hermione.

The reason for her screams became abundantly clear as a giant lump of a man(?) shuffled forward before swinging his club at the screaming. Had the girl not ducked at the last moment, her formidable brains would have presented a challenge to Filch's cleaning fluids and mops. Harry could not really blame the guy. He had only just gotten there and the screaming was really getting on his nerves. He could only imagine if the big guy had to listen to it the whole time!

Watching the big guy, Harry decided he was a lot like Dudley, a bit thick and prone to attempt to solve problems with violence. And when you are as big as Dudley, many problems can be solved quickly with an appropriate level of violence enthusiastically applied.

Harry smiled, remembering Dudley could be distracted by pretty things. That of course was the entire reason Harry was forced to learn to juggle. Well, if it would work with one lumbering oaf, perhaps it would work with another?

Harry took out three balls and began a simple pattern before attempting to garner the big guy's attention.

"HEY! BIG GUY! LOOK AT THIS!" Harry shouted as loudly as he could, trying to drown out Hermione's high pitched screams.

Harry fed more balls into the pattern. He had taken to carrying twelve these days, since Merlin began teaching him. Twelve was still beyond him, except for the simplest patterns. But at the moment he was grateful for the extra ammunition, for that was how he was about to use at least one. A quick grab, underhanded power throw, and Hermione caught the ball in her belly button. Well, 'caught' is a bit of a euphemistic description of what Hermione did. Basically the ball hit her in the gut with the power of a good punch, knocking the wind out of her and more importantly… stopping her screaming.

"Stay down! Get out of sight. And for the sake of all you hold precious, QUIT SCREAMING!"

Harry screaming at Hermione to stop screaming would have been an amusing bit of irony, had not the big guy decided to see who was making noise now.

Raising his club above his head as he turned to face Harry, the troll froze before cocking his head to the side. Harry was tossing eight balls through a simple pattern. A simple pattern to Harry, that is… the troll found it most perplexing. Reaching out, the troll attempted to pluck one ball from the pattern, but they were moving too quickly. Deciding to play to his wheelhouse, the troll swung his club through the air above Harry's head in an attempt to disrupt the pattern.

Harry could have performed this simple pattern in his sleep. (That is literal, as Neville had to wake him from sleep walking a few times!) So, he had plenty of attention to give the big guy swinging the tree trunk. When the club began moving toward his juggling balls, he varied several tosses to avoid them meeting the club. Still, he had never practiced with a giant trying to use his balls as batting practice. The club managed to knock one ball into the far wall, the seams bursting with the impact before it slid down the wall to lie quietly on the flooded floor.

Harry was very annoyed. Even Dudley did not damage his juggling balls. Still, since the big guy was twice his height and probably eight times his mass, he was prepared to forgive the one ball's destruction as a misunderstanding among new acquaintances. (That and he was pretty sure the big guy could rip his head off without an effort! Self-preservation is a strong instinct, even in the very young!)

Harry managed to prevent the club from hitting any more of his balls, but the big guy became rapidly bored with each new pattern, forcing Harry to move into more complex patterns to maintain his attention. Soon Harry was using techniques Merlin had taught him. The troll quickly became bored with even those.

Harry decided to try some combinations of techniques Merlin had taught him. (He had been thinking about how easy it would be to combine certain techniques, so easy in fact Harry would later decide Merlin was teaching him pieces of a more complex pattern.)

Harry pocketed all but six balls, immediately moving into the first technique before the big guy got bored again. He then moved into the second technique. Again, Big and Stinky was rapidly bored. Harry combined the first and second technique and nearly dropped everything. Only his endless hours of practice prevented disaster as Harry was greeted with something completely unexpected, the balls began to glow. Wondering how long before Stinky got bored with this combined technique, Harry was amazed to see the troll sit in front of him, dropping his club as he began to clap his hands in pleasure and laughing. At least Harry hoped it was laughter. That did look like a smile, but the sound could best be approximated by head-sized granite pieces half filling an industrial drum which was then rolled down a very steep hill.

This pattern did not get boring for his big friend. The longer Harry maintained it, the brighter the balls glowed, until they were leaving streaking after-images. Harry altered the strength and angle of his catches, creating geometric patterns of loops, curves, and lines in the air.

Harry did not know how long his command performance for his audience of one (or so he thought) had continued before he heard light applause behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder showed all the senior staff watching him entertain the troll. Hagrid loomed over the other teachers with a smile that bore more than a passing similarity to the troll's.

Looking back at the troll, Harry spoke quietly, "If someone knows how to handle the big guy here, so he doesn't start swinging that tree around again, I would appreciate it. Hagrid, you are about his size. Think you could help him move somewhere less dangerous to the student body?"

Hagrid's voice rumbled with humor, "Absolutely Harry. Could you keep doing that for a bit? I just need to step through next to him and…"

Whatever Hagrid was going to say was lost as a bright beam of red light flashed past Harry, hitting the troll in his open mouth as he continued to laugh like an amused toddler.

After the troll fell over backward, no longer moving, Harry caught all his balls as he whipped around to see who had fired.

"You didn't have to kill him!" Harry fumed at the professors. All now had their wands out, so he could not tell who cast the spell.

"Arrogant whelp! Who are you to question how we protect this school?" Snape scowled.

"Well a damn fine job you did of it, isn't it? If I had not come along, Hermione would be dead. Not to mention I had to deliberately attract the attention of a smelly mountain of bad temper and muscle in order to save her, thus placing another student's life in danger, mine!"

"It's true. Harry saved me. I wasn't able to do anything but scream. I was too scared. If Harry had not come along and distracted him, the troll would have killed me. He told me to hide while he dealt with it." Hermione said as she slowly exited the last stall of the girls' loo.

The air filled with the sound of wind chimes as a golden glow surrounded Hermione before streaking to Harry.

Harry did not feel an impact, only a sense of warmth as the light seemed to soak into him.

"Okay… that was… different" Harry finally said.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Just like his father" before he turned on his heel and limped away.

Dumbledore just shook his head, thinking 'Yet another kink in what should have been a simple plan.'

"So, would someone like to explain why you killed my new friend?"

"Lord Potter, Professor Snape used a stunner to incapacitate the troll. Since their hide is extremely resistant to magic, he aimed the stunner at the inside of the troll's mouth. The troll is not permanently harmed and will wake with little more than some sore muscles and a large headache." Professor Flitwick explained.

"Hagrid, could you have safely escorted the big guy from the school?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Well, er" Hagrid looked at Dumbledore for guidance in his answer, but the Headmaster was busy watching Hermione.

"Er… Yes. He was in a playful mood. Your doing, that. I could have led him from the castle easily, especially if you had come with me. I think he likes you." Hagrid chuckled as he said that last part.

"So, violence is an option. Good to know." Harry snarked. "I am going to take Miss Granger to the infirmary. With your permission, of course." The last was directed to Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick, as they are the head of house for the two students involved.

"Harry, why weren't you at the feast" Dumbledore queried with some annoyance. Harry could tell the Headmaster was annoyed, but could not see why that question would be considered relevant, given the events of the last hour or so.

"Sir, I was on my way to the feast when I heard Miss Granger scream. Is my absence from the feast really important at this point in time? Or may I escort Hermione to the infirmary now?"

The Headmaster waved him on, so Lord Potter gave his arm to Miss Granger and after she took his elbow, they left the girls' bathroom for the infirmary.

After they left, Minerva turned to Albus, "You know what happened. Not telling him will not prevent the consequences. Miss Granger owes Lord Potter a Life Debt. While they did not use the accepted formula for acknowledging the debt, Magic obviously agreed the debt exists and the bond was formed. You saw it."

Dumbledore shook his head and left as Filius and Pomona started putting the bathroom back together.

Minerva, Filius, and Pomona all looked at each other as Hagrid pulled the troll over his shoulder and walked away.

***On the way to the Infirmary***

Harry wondered how to start this conversation, then decided to just 'jump in'.

"Hermione, why were you in that bathroom? Even if you needed to go to the restroom, you should have used one much closer to the Great Hall."

Hermione hung her head in embarrassment, "I was hiding from … "

"Ron?"

"Not this time, but some of his friends."

"They abused you?"

"No! They just call me names and …"

"So, they are bullying you."

Hermione admitted, "Yes, I guess. It's nothing more than what happened before I came to Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head violently, "That doesn't make it right. In fact, as they are older than the children who used to bully you, it is worse. They should know better by now."

Hermione could not argue with that, so she remained silent and hung her head.,,

"Hermione," Harry began tentatively, "I have a solution for you. It is pretty radical, but it would prevent much of the bullying you are experiencing."

Hermione picked up her head with excitement and something she had not experienced before, hope; hope the bullying might eventually end.

"How?"

*** Assistant Headmistress' Office, Three Nights Prior ***

Filius was at a loss. In all his years teaching, nothing like this had happened before, which is why he found himself with Pomona and Minerva discussing it over a therapeutic dose of Ogden's Finest.

"Honestly" Filius began "I don't know what to do. Students will always make some excuse or other to excuse their late papers, but the number of students doing it this year seems far beyond normal."

Pomona nodded as she voiced her thoughts, "And they all seem to say the same thing, 'I can't find it' or 'I lost it', but they all claim to have done the work and when quizzed, they know the material. This is something beyond a few students trying to avoid homework."

Minerva took a sip of her 'medicine' before throwing in her thoughts "Have you noticed who is using these excuses to not turn in their work?"

Although Minerva had meant it as a rhetorical question, Filius immediately responded, "Among the first years: Roper, Perks, Cornfoot, Turpin, McDougal, Entwhistle, Finch-Fletchley, and Granger. Among the second years: "

McGonagall held up her hand to interrupt the rest of the list, "That is sufficient. Do you see a pattern?"

Professor Sprout's eyes popped wide as she squeaked, "Muggleborn. They are all muggleborn…"

Minerva nodded, "And the same pattern is present in the other classes. Persecution of the muggleborn has reached an unprecedented level this year. If we asked Poppy, she would tell us there is an unusual level of bumps and bruises caused by 'walking into doors', 'not watching where I was going', and 'I fell'. Bad dreams are also at unprecedented levels, according to Poppy."

Filius did not look happy and when he wasn't happy, his goblin side swam all too close to the surface.

Before he could say anything someone might have to give testimony on, Pomona interrupted, "What can we do? How can we help these children?"

Minerva sighed, "Until we catch someone in the act, we will have to keep our eyes open. After we catch someone…"

Minerva's evil smile made Filius much more comfortable. There was more than a little goblin in that woman. He was certain of it. He also added her to the list of people he would never willingly cross.

*** An Unused Classroom, Sometime the Prior Week ***

Marcus Flint dropped a book flat on the desk, the boom echoing in the long disused classroom.

"The premier meeting of the etiquette club is hereby called to order."

Professor Snape looked around the room. 'Only purebloods, as it should be', he thought vindictively. This was the first chance Dumbledore had given him since removing him as Head of House for Slytherin. "Baby steps" Dumbledore had said. "Show me you have changed" he said. What Snape would really like to show him was a bowel cleansing potion he had been working on, which would completely evacuate a patient's bowels in less than an hour. Of course, there were some side effects: nausea, cramping, heart palpitations, oh and pain… lots of pain. Snape smiled to himself as he imagined the Headmaster enduring the bowel prep, for his own good of course.

"Professor Snape has graciously agreed to provide our required staff sponsor. A polite round of applause, please."

Quiet clapping filled the room momentarily as Snape rose and nodded to his club, before sitting again.

"Right, so why are we here?"

Ernest MacMillian stood and clearly stated, "We represent the pureblood families of Wizarding Britain. We are here to study and revive the traditions which non-purebloods discount as unimportant and to make contacts within the pureblood community of Hogwarts which we will use to our benefit after graduation."

Slow applause from Flint, "Nicely put and a very Slytherin attitude, if I might add. Did the hat perhaps offer you Slytherin?"

Many students were giggling. Many, but none of them were Slytherin. They were now re-evaluating Mr. Macmillan given this new information.

"Anyone else have an idea of why we are here?" Flint asked with a smirk.

Ronald Weasley spoke to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence, "We are here to make connections and observe other pureblood within our age range. This will prove of strategic value in determining marriage contracts in the future."

Flint raised an eyebrow, "Another Slytherin hiding in another house, perhaps? Well said Mr. Weasley. And since you have yet to enter puberty," Marcus threw up his hands to indicate no offense was intended, "your brain still works objectively when considering the fairer sex. Well done."

"Anyone else?"

"To learn effective, yet legal" legal was clearly and strongly emphasized "methods of maintaining the supremacy of purebloods within society" Padma Patil said politely, as she straightened her robe.

"Definitely not a Slytherin in hiding. Too much emphasis on 'legal' instead of using perhaps a word more in line with our goals. I might have chosen the phrase 'unlikely to be successfully prosecuted'. Ah well, not everyone can be cunning." Flint's genuine smile detracted from the sting of his words, but it was clear Padma had lost credibility in his eyes.

"Yes. We are here to learn how to set ourselves apart from the mudbloods and those who mingle too closely with them. We are here to form connections which will last our lifetimes and longer. Connections of finances and family; including, as Mr. Weasley most appropriately mentioned, marriage."

Flint nodded to Professor Snape, who with a wave of wand and muttered phrase created a 16 place table complete with extensive place settings.

"Who wishes to be our first test subjects? The three who spoke up obviously."

Ron hung his head slightly before mustering his courage and standing up. He could do this. His mother was a Prewitt and this was drilled into him from the time he could walk. He approached the table with the others Flint had selected, all first years except for Mr. Flint.

"Unh, unh, unh," Flint smiled at the chosen students. "First things first. Knowing the right fork to use is important. But at this point, what is even more important? Ms. Greengrass?"

In a bored voice Daphne Greengrass replied, "Knowing when to sit… and where."

Flint smiled broadly, "Exactly right, Ms. Greengrass!"

"Ten points to Slytherin" Snape murmured from the corner where he watched "for Miss Greengrass' most Slytherin response to an obvious question".

"We will assume the call to table has been issued, so when to sit is marginally unimportant at the moment. But where is vitally important. Sit in the wrong place, perhaps you will offend someone with sufficient rank to call you to duel. Perhaps you will damage a treaty ancient before your grandfathers were born. Perhaps you will be treated politely, as one would a child, as your potential as a husband or wife is downgraded in the eyes of those who matter."

Flint walked to the head of the table.

"Ms. Brown, could you remind us how seating is determined?"

Lavender Brown nodded before speaking an obviously often repeated lesson, "The hostess sets the seating arrangement according to their desire. Although a seemingly straightforward task, the seating must take into consideration the precedence of each guest. Many hostesses will begin with the males by order of precedence, those with the highest ranks or awards sitting closest to the host at the head of table. Space is provided for the guests 'plus one'. If a guest does not bring a companion for the evening, some hostesses will go as far as to provide one of adequate poise and breeding. When this is not possible, if a woman is a guest and without a gentleman for the evening, she is often paired with the gentleman who did not bring a companion. In lesser households, the woman's rank or awards may move her higher up the table. In addition there are conventions regarding the attire of the guests, which rarely supersede the order of precedence but some will use as 'tie-breakers'. Then there are the seasonal variations which…"

Flint laughed as he interrupted her, "Yes. Thank you Ms. Brown. That was most informative. As you can guess, there are entire books written on the 'simple' art of seating people appropriately."

"Mr. Longbottom, what is the most common method of determining where one should sit?"

Neville had remained silent throughout, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the apparent purpose of the group. Asked a direct question, he had to answer.

"The hostess will usually indicate where you should sit, sometimes going so far as to include a place card or note."

"The subtleties in indicating the seating are numerous and some are quite insulting. These can be used when one wishes to insult someone beneath them, in such a manner the more refined guests are politely made aware of the insulted party's deficiencies" Draco smiled, remembering one such evening.

"Just so" Flint nodded. "Well said."

"Ten points to Slytherin" mumbled Severus, "for Draco's valuable insight into polite social infighting."

After seating the first group, Marcus asked, "Now for the most important part of the evening. We assume everyone knows which utensil to use and how to eat a given item properly. Now we begin the most profitable portion of the evening, the conversation. Perhaps I am having problems with mudbloods receiving too much attention in our school. Perhaps they are making me look bad in class. I could just come out and say that. But I won't. Mr. Zabini, why won't I start a conversation in such a manner?"

Blaise sat a bit straighter and squared his shoulders as he responded, "It would be rude, but more importantly, it would be ineffective."

"Really? Please explain." Marcus asked with a grin.

"Anyone who would listen to such a poorly worded request is unlikely to be capable of helping you. If they interpreted your request correctly, they are likely to get caught in the process of helping you. Those capable of aiding you without drawing attention would not do so because they would find you unworthy of their help due to your lack of subtlety in your method of requesting action" Mr. Zabini explained in a condescending tone.

Flint chuckled as he responded, "Just so. Can anyone give me an example of a more appropriate way to start the conversation I wanted to start? Miss Parvati Patil, please."

Parvati looking across at Lavender, "My mother will be most disappointed when she hears I am not the top of our year in charms."

Flint nodded, "Still a bit obvious to those who know the direction the conversation is supposed to be guided, but without that… Well done, Miss Patil."

Looking around the table, Flint asked, "Anyone else?"

Ron removed the automatic sneer that graced his face as he looked at Draco, replacing it with a pleasant smile, "Mr. Malfoy, your father's charitable contributions are well known." Ron paused as Draco nodded, wondering where this would go. Ron continued, "If he is looking for additional areas where his charity could reap large dividends, I would like to suggest Hogwarts. I am particularly concerned for the first generation witches and wizards; muggleborns. They are brought into our world knowing almost nothing. Perhaps you could ask your father if he would fund a wizarding culture elective, to teach these poor unfortunate students how to properly assimilate into our society."

Flint started laughing! Nodding toward Professor Snape, before turning to Draco and asking, "Mr. Malfoy, please evaluate Mr. Weasley's introductory comment."

Draco looked at Ron, cocking his head to the side. He had seriously underestimated Ron Weasley. Draco nodded respectfully to Ron before beginning, "As you said previously, knowing where the conversation is supposed to end gives a significant advantage in evaluating it. Mr. Weasley's introductory comment was suitably subtle. It complimented my family, my father specifically, before indicating a method by which my family's known behavior could be used to deal with a current issue. More to the point, the idea is well considered and likely to succeed in allowing purebloods to improve their standing in their classes, as the 'first generation witches and wizards' would have more classes and homework, diverting some of their efforts in classes shared with purebloods."

Ron Weasley smirked, then nodded his head to Draco in acknowledgment of the compliment.

Snape was amazed. Ron Weasley was a devious bastard indeed. The more he thought of it, the more Severus was annoyed. 'How did Weasley not get sorted into Slytherin?' "Five points to Gryffindor for Weasley managing to breath with his mouth closed" Severus muttered. Snape just couldn't bring himself to award points to a Gryffindor without adding an insult.

"Now", Flint interrupted, "Are all halfbloods and mudbloods created equal? Miss Parkinson. Would you marry a mudblood? Under any circumstances?"

Pansy blushed bright red, "No".

"Under no circumstances? Miss Greengrass. Would you marry a mudblood?" Flint continued.

Daphne considered, "I have a sister who could continue my family line. I would lose respect and social standing in the eyes of my peers. Therefore, I would marry a mudblood" gasps were heard around the table "if what I gained from the union exceeded the value of what I had lost."

Lavender looked horrified, "What could you possibly gain that would be worth marrying a mudblood?"

Daphne laughed at her, "Mudblood? I would marry a muggle, if the gains exceeded the losses. As to what I could gain to equal the loss of prestige among my peers; assuming the muggle I wed were Prince Charles, I would be next in line to be Queen of England. Appropriate paperwork would be 'found' to verify my qualifications to do so. Likewise his son, Prince William will be King, and thus I Queen, after his father passes. In becoming Queen of the United Kingdom and Head of the Commonwealth, I gain far more than I lose. Prince Charles is 43. Prince William is 9. Either are adequate age for a contract. As Queen, or even Princess, I would influence muggle government and society to the benefit of my House. Am I likely to marry a muggle? Hardly. But are there circumstances where it is possible? Absolutely!"

Everyone sat in silence before Flint broke it with a laugh and enthusiastic clapping.

"Miss Greengrass, that is the most Slytherin comment made all evening!" Flint cheered.

"Fifteen points to Slytherin for Miss Greengrass' detailed response." Snape murmured.

Marcus continued, "This shows the point I wanted to make quite clear. We want power. Power to affect our way of life. Power to squash those things which threaten us. Power to acquire those things which we desire. Much of the power today rests in the hands of purebloods. We designed the system to keep it that way, from hereditary seats in the Wizengamot to glass ceilings in the Ministry to keep the less desirable in their place. Power is the point."

"Miss Parkinson is offended at the idea of marrying outside the pureblood community. It limits her options. Miss Lavender, would you marry Harry Potter? Some call him a half-blood: although that is not accurate, is it? His mother was a witch, mudblood but still a witch. His father's blood is as pure as anyone's. So, should you marry Harry, your children would be considered pureblood by most. So, Miss Lavender, would you marry Harry Potter?" Flint stared unblinkingly at the witch in question.

Straightening her shoulders and looking Marcus Flint squarely in the eye, Lavender replied, "Yes".

Flint smiled, "As you should. The benefits are significant and the negatives are few. The Potters hold a seat in the Wizengamot, have property and investments throughout the world, and large vaults in Gringotts which are said to be well supplied with heirlooms and gold. Hell, if he asked, I would have to consider it too! And I DON'T fancy men in the least!" Flint laughed at his joke and others joined in.

"Professor Snape, if you please" Flint asked politely.

Professor Snape stood once more, waving his wand and muttering as several more tables appeared, identical to the first, with sufficient seating for those not in the first test group.

"Now, let's eat!"

At Flint's comment, the first course appeared, not on common serving dishes, but on each individual's plate. Each course appeared in its time, the meal far beyond the plebian tastes of the meal they had skipped in the Great Hall.

Two hours later, the purebloods who knew etiquette were clearly distinguished from those who only had a passing familiarity with the subject. Ronald Bilius Weasley was the largest surprise to everyone other than his brothers. (Molly had beaten proper behavior into all her children.)

As they dispersed for the evening, everyone was surprised by one other thing. The meeting had been a lot of fun.

*** Two days prior ***

"Mr. Flint, might I have a word in private?"

Marcus Flint turned quickly to discover Slytherin first year Pansey Parkinson standing there, waiting patiently for his response.

"Uh, sure, Miss Parkinson, right?" Flint managed after a moment.

"Yes, Mr. Flint." Looking right and left, Pansy noted there was no one nearby, "I have been confused on blood status. If someone has a muggle for a parent" Pansy looked almost ill at the thought, "and a witch or wizard for a parent, they are halfblood."

Flint nodded, waiting for the question.

"And if both parents for at least three generations are magical, they are considered 'pureblood'" again a look of disdain graced Pansy's features.

Again Flint nodded, waiting for the question and wishing she would hurry. "Your question?" prodding her to get to the point.

"What about those who have a mudblood for a parent, yet the other parent is pureblood? By definition it seems they are not halfblood, but also not pureblood and definitely not mudblood. Is there another category?" Pansy asked.

Marcus was stumped. He had never thought of this 'in-between' status.

"Miss Parkinson, are you planning to be at the etiquette club meeting?"

Flint waited until Pansy nodded yes.

"Then I shall have the answer to your question at that time. See you there!" as he turned to walk away briskly.

*** Earlier That Day ***

Draco was aware of the etiquette club meeting in two days. He really wanted Harry to be there, but there was no way to do so without at least hinting at his plans.

At the very least, he had to get the other purebloods thinking about Harry Potter, more specifically that Harry was not a mudblood or halfblood.

Smiling to himself, he decided to sit beside Pansy this morning.

Thinking the smile was for her, Pansy smiled back and patted the bench beside her.

'That was too easy' Draco thought as he sat down.

The hardest part was how to steer the conversation to Harry.

Pansy practically glowed, "You missed it! The Head of House Weasley just apologized in public… to Harry Potter!"

*** Ten Minutes Earlier ***

"I, Arthur Septimus Weasley, Head of the Ancient House of Weasley, do hereby apologize for the actions of a member of my House, one Ronald Bilius Weasley. The issue has been addressed within the House and will not be repeated. In consideration for your acceptance of this most sincere apology, House Weasley acknowledges a minor debt is owed to the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, to be negotiated in good faith at a later date."

Harry wondered how he kept getting himself in these situations, but knew a Head of House offering public apology and a minor debt was a pretty good trade for Ron pulling on his arm during his first train ride. The books Draco loaned him were already proving their value.

"I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, accept your apology in the spirit in which it is given, agree to negotiate in good faith the minor debt owed. I declare there are no further issues between our Houses and all previous problems are set aside as misadventures. May our Houses continue from this day in peace and plenty."

Harry stepped forward, offering his hand which Arthur shook in relief.

Pulling Mr. Weasley closer, Harry whispered, "Ronald's conduct has been most satisfactory since his aborted apology. Thank you for dealing with the issue so quickly."

Mr. Weasley whispered back, "Thank you Lord Potter for not pushing this any further. I am certain you could have pursued a legal remedy for the incident on the train. You have my gratitude and that of my House."

Many pureblood eyes watched as 'the train incident', as it had come to be known, was formally laid to rest.

The more astute realized the ascension of House Potter had begun.

Dumbledore was shaking his head as he watched the exchange of oaths. Once again, he knew what would happen ahead of time. In fact he had instructed Arthur in the appropriate wording of his oath. Keeping the Weasleys on his side and young Ronald out of jail was for the Greater Good. At the same time, this exchange of oaths strengthened young Harry's hold on his Head of House status, which was not for the Greater Good as far as Albus could see. In frustration, Albus left the Great Hall soon after, trying to think of a leash for this new young Lord.

*** The Week before the Etiquette Club's First Meeting ***

Draco considered his plans.
The most important aspect was to increase the power of House Potter.
A secondary and short term goal, get the purebloods talking about Harry in a neutral or better light.

After pondering, Draco decided his previous plans were the best he could devise at the moment. To increase the power of the House of Potter, Draco would drive the mudbloods to Harry's banner. They would bring no political power to Potter, therefore the purebloods would not become too nervous too soon. Yet the mudbloods would bring wands and skills, increasing the viability of the House of Potter as a functioning household. Grateful for Harry's protection, the muggleborn would be near fanatical in their service.

One mudblood in particular would be useful, Hermione Granger. Some professors were already whispering she was the smartest witch of this generation. Having her in his House would be a major benefit to Harry.

And anything that benefits Harry would (eventually) benefit Draco.

Draco smiled innocently. It was a look he had perfected under his mother's harsh tutelage.

It was time to write Father.

Father,

Hogwarts is everything you said it would be and more.

Professor Snape is a most excellent instructor and my work in his class has been exemplary. Truthfully, I am almost bored. Fortunately my Godfather allows me to work ahead.

The other classes are not as interesting as I had hoped. History of Magic is a monumental waste of time. I use the notes you provided. Professor Binns drones on, repeating word for word what you wrote down from his lectures when you were here. Defense against the Dark Arts is a laugh! I learned more from my tutors before coming to Hogwarts than I have learned in almost two months under Professor Quirrell.

I have noticed the purebloods within the school do not associate with each other as a collective group, most preferring to visit with closer friends.

Was it this way when you went to school here?

If only we had a club or something, where the purebloods could get to know each other.

Did you have something like that when you went to school here?

Alas, homework beckons.

Please give Mother my love.

Your Heir,

Draco

The next morning Draco received his response.

My Heir,

Times do change. Defense against the Dark Arts was well instructed in my days at Hogwarts. I am sorry the instruction has fallen so far. Rest assured you will be tutored extensively during the holidays to correct any deficits.

In my youth, many purebloods knew each other prior to attending Hogwarts and introductions were expected to those you did not know. Even enemies were formally introduced as long as a blood feud was not active.

The situation you find yourself in is less than desirable. I shall contact your godfather about forming a student organization to facilitate the mingling of the pureblood students.

Your mother instructed me to return your affections and to say she misses you.

We will speak more candidly when we meet during the holidays.

Your Father

A mountain side strewn with dirt, pebbles, rocks, and boulders may be dislodged by moving a single stone creating an avalanche which swept up all in its path, destroying all which attempted to stand against it; reforming the landscape as it passed.

Harry Potter would be Draco's avalanche, reshaping wizarding Britain in his wake.

All Draco had to do was find the right pebble to kick.

Draco smiled upon re-reading his father's letter.

A promising pebble indeed…

Draco looked forward to kicking it.

Chapter 12: Chapter 11 revised

Revised Chapter 11, 'non-reverse' chronology

AN: This is actually version 2 of Chapter 11, written in chronological order, instead of the way I originally wrote it. Hopefully this is easier to read. I had 6 negative comments and 2 positive comments regarding the reverse chronology format I used, so I won't be doing that again. Thanks to everyone who commented! You are helping me refine my writing style and it is greatly appreciated. The (first) version of Chapter 11 will remain posted until I finish chapter 12, then I will delete it, leaving this (the second version) as the sole chapter 11.
Thanks again for helping me refine my technique!

AN: THANK YOU! 100+ favs and 200+ follows for a completely unknown fanfic author! I know that is not much for the established guys, but I am happy and thankful!

PS, a special thanks to Riana Miako who double dinged, giving me the 100th fav and 200th follow. Thanks Riana!

I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Chapter 11

Laying Foundations

*** The Week before the Etiquette Club's First Meeting ***

Draco considered his plans.

The most important aspect was to increase the power of House Potter.

A secondary (and short term) goal, get the purebloods talking about Harry in a neutral or better light.

After pondering, Draco decided his previous plans were the best he could devise at the moment. To increase the power of the House of Potter, Draco would drive the mudbloods to Harry's banner. They would bring no political power to Potter, therefore the purebloods would not become too nervous too soon. Yet the mudbloods would bring wands and skills, increasing the viability of the House of Potter as a functioning household. Grateful for Harry's protection, the muggleborn would be near fanatical in their service.

One mudblood in particular would be useful, Hermione Granger. Some professors were already whispering she was the smartest witch of this generation. Having her in his House would be a major benefit to Harry.

And anything that benefits Harry would (eventually) benefit Draco.

Draco smiled innocently. It was a look he had perfected under his mother's harsh tutelage.

It was time to write Father.

Father,

Hogwarts is everything you said it would be and more.

Professor Snape is a most excellent instructor and my work in his class has been exemplary. Truthfully, I am almost bored. Fortunately my Godfather allows me to work ahead.

The other classes are not as interesting as I had hoped. History of Magic is a monumental waste of time. I use the notes you provided. Professor Binns drones on, repeating word for word what you wrote down from his lectures when you were here. Defense against the Dark Arts is a laugh! I learned more from my tutors before coming to Hogwarts than I have learned in almost a month under Professor Quirrell.

I have noticed the purebloods within the school do not associate with each other as a collective group, most preferring to visit with closer friends.

Was it this way when you went to school here?

If only we had a club or something, where the purebloods could get to know each other.

Did you have something like that when you went to school here?

Alas, homework beckons.

Please give Mother my love.

Your Heir,

Draco

The next morning Draco received his response.

My Heir,

Times do change. Defense against the Dark Arts was well instructed in my days at Hogwarts. I am sorry the instruction has fallen so far. Rest assured you will be tutored extensively during the holidays to correct any deficits.

In my youth, many purebloods knew each other prior to attending Hogwarts and introductions were expected to those you did not know. Even enemies were formally introduced as long as a blood feud was not active.

The situation you find yourself in is less than desirable. I shall contact your godfather about forming a student organization to facilitate the mingling of the pureblood students.

Your mother instructed me to return your affections and to say she misses you.

We will speak more candidly when we meet during the holidays.

Your Father

A mountain side strewn with dirt, pebbles, rocks, and boulders may be dislodged by moving a single stone creating an avalanche which swept up all in its path, destroying all which attempted to stand against it; reforming the landscape as it passed.

Harry Potter would be Draco's avalanche, reshaping wizarding Britain in his wake.

All Draco had to do was find the right pebble to kick.

Draco smiled upon re-reading his father's letter.

A promising pebble indeed…

Draco looked forward to kicking it.

*** Another Breakfast in the Great Hall ***

"I, Arthur Septimus Weasley, Head of the Ancient House of Weasley, do hereby apologize for the actions of a member of my House, one Ronald Bilius Weasley. The issue has been addressed within the House and will not be repeated. In consideration for your acceptance of this most sincere apology, House Weasley acknowledges a minor debt is owed to the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, to be negotiated in good faith at a later date."

Harry wondered how he kept getting himself in these situations, but knew a Head of House offering public apology and a minor debt was a pretty good trade for Ron pulling on his arm during his first train ride. The books Draco loaned him were already proving their value.

"I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, accept your apology in the spirit in which it is given, agree to negotiate in good faith the minor debt owed. I declare there are no further issues between our Houses and all previous problems are set aside as misadventures. May our Houses continue from this day in peace and plenty."

Harry stepped forward, offering his hand which Arthur shook in relief.

Pulling Mr. Weasley closer, Harry whispered, "Ronald's conduct has been most satisfactory since his aborted apology. Thank you for dealing with the issue so quickly."

Mr. Weasley whispered back, "Thank you Lord Potter for not pushing this any further. I am certain you could have pursued a legal remedy for the incident on the train. You have my gratitude and that of my House."

Many pureblood eyes watched as 'the train incident', as it had come to be known, was formally laid to rest. The more astute realized the ascension of House Potter had begun.

Dumbledore was shaking his head as he watched the exchange of oaths. Once again, he knew what would happen ahead of time. In fact he had instructed Arthur in the appropriate wording of his oath. Keeping the Weasleys on his side and young Ronald out of jail was for the Greater Good. At the same time, this exchange of oaths strengthened young Harry's hold on his Head of House status, which was not for the Greater Good as far as Albus could see. In frustration, Albus left the Great Hall soon after, trying to think of a leash for this new young Lord.

Draco was aware of the etiquette club meeting in two days. He really wanted Harry to be there, but there was no way to do so without at least hinting at his plans.

At the very least, he had to get the other purebloods thinking about Harry Potter, more specifically that Harry was not a mudblood or halfblood.

Draco decided Miss Parkinson was a shiny pebble; smiling to himself, he moving to sit beside Pansy this morning.

Thinking the smile was for her, Pansy smiled back and patted the bench beside her.

'That was too easy' Draco thought as he sat down.

The hardest part was how to steer the conversation to Harry.

Pansy practically glowed, "You missed it! The Head of House Weasley just apologized in public… to Harry Potter!"

'Fate loves me' Draco thought happily.

*** Hallway between Classes ***

"Mr. Flint, might I have a word in private?"

Marcus Flint turned quickly to discover Slytherin first year Pansey Parkinson standing there, waiting patiently for his response.

"Uh, sure, Miss Parkinson, right?" Flint managed after a moment.

"Yes, Mr. Flint." Looking right and left, Pansy noted there was no one nearby, "I have been confused on blood status. If someone has a muggle for a parent" Pansy looked almost ill at the thought, "and a witch or wizard for a parent, they are halfblood."

Flint nodded, waiting for the question.

"And if both parents for at least three generations are magical, they are considered 'pureblood'" again a look of disdain graced Pansy's features.

Again Flint nodded, waiting for the question and wishing she would hurry. "Your question?" prodding her to get to the point.

"What about those who have a mudblood for a parent, yet the other parent is pureblood? By definition it seems they are not halfblood, but also not pureblood and definitely not mudblood. Is there another category?" Pansy asked.

Marcus was stumped. He had never thought of this 'in-between' status.

"Miss Parkinson, are you planning to be at the etiquette club meeting?"

Flint waited until Pansy nodded yes.

"Then I shall have the answer to your question at that time. See you there!" as he turned to walk away briskly.

*** An Unused Classroom, Later that Week ***

Marcus Flint dropped a book flat on the desk, the boom echoing in the long disused classroom.

"The premier meeting of the etiquette club is hereby called to order."

Professor Snape looked around the room. 'Only purebloods, as it should be', he thought vindictively. This was the first chance Dumbledore had given him since removing him as Head of House for Slytherin. "Baby steps" Dumbledore had said. "Show me you have changed" he said. What Snape would really like to show him was a bowel cleansing potion he had been working on, which would completely evacuate a patient's bowels in less than an hour. Of course, there were some side effects: nausea, cramping, heart palpitations, oh and pain… lots of pain. Snape smiled to himself as he imagined the Headmaster enduring the bowel prep, for his own good of course.

"Professor Snape has graciously agreed to provide our required staff sponsor. A polite round of applause, please."

Quiet clapping filled the room momentarily as Snape rose and nodded to his club, before sitting again.

"Right, so why are we here?"

Ernest MacMillian stood and clearly stated, "We represent the pureblood families of Wizarding Britain. We are here to study and revive the traditions which non-purebloods discount as unimportant and to make contacts within the pureblood community of Hogwarts which we will use to our benefit after graduation."

Slow applause from Flint, "Nicely put and a very Slytherin attitude, if I might add. Did the hat perhaps offer you Slytherin?"

Many students were giggling. Many, but none of them were Slytherin. They were now re-evaluating Mr. Macmillan given this new information.

"Anyone else have an idea of why we are here?" Flint asked with a smirk.

Ronald Weasley spoke to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence, "We are here to make connections and observe other pureblood within our age range. This will prove of strategic value in determining marriage contracts in the future."

Flint raised an eyebrow, "Another Slytherin hiding in another house, perhaps? Well said Mr. Weasley. And since you have yet to enter puberty," Marcus threw up his hands to indicate no offense was intended, "your brain still works objectively when considering the fairer sex. Well done."

"Anyone else?"

"To learn effective, yet legal" legal was clearly and strongly emphasized "methods of maintaining the supremacy of purebloods within society" Padma Patil said politely, as she straightened her robe.

"Definitely not a Slytherin in hiding. Too much emphasis on 'legal' instead of using perhaps a word more in line with our goals. I might have chosen the phrase 'unlikely to be successfully prosecuted'. Ah well, not everyone can be cunning." Flint's genuine smile detracted from the sting of his words, but it was clear Padma had lost credibility in his eyes.

"Yes. We are here to learn how to set ourselves apart from the mudbloods and those who mingle too closely with them. We are here to form connections which will last our lifetimes and longer. Connections of finances and family; including, as Mr. Weasley most appropriately mentioned, marriage."

Flint nodded to Professor Snape, who with a wave of wand and muttered phrase created a 16 place table complete with extensive place settings.

"Who wishes to be our first test subjects? The three who spoke up obviously."

Ron hung his head slightly before mustering his courage and standing up. He could do this. His mother was a Prewitt and this was drilled into him from the time he could walk. He approached the table with the others Flint had selected, all first years except for Mr. Flint.

"Unh, unh, unh," Flint smiled at the chosen students. "First things first. Knowing the right fork to use is important. But at this point, what is even more important? Ms. Greengrass?"

In a bored voice Daphne Greengrass replied, "Knowing when to sit… and where."

Flint smiled broadly, "Exactly right, Ms. Greengrass!"

"Ten points to Slytherin" Snape murmured from the corner where he watched "for Miss Greengrass' most Slytherin response to an obvious question".

"We will assume the call to table has been issued, so when to sit is marginally unimportant at the moment. But where is vitally important. Sit in the wrong place, perhaps you will offend someone with sufficient rank to call you to duel. Perhaps you will damage a treaty ancient before your grandfathers were born. Perhaps you will be treated politely, as one would a child, as your potential as a husband or wife is downgraded in the eyes of those who matter."

Flint walked to the head of the table.

"Ms. Brown, could you remind us how seating is determined?"

Lavender Brown nodded before speaking an obviously often repeated lesson, "The hostess sets the seating arrangement according to their desire. Although a seemingly straightforward task, the seating must take into consideration the precedence of each guest. Many hostesses will begin with the males by order of precedence, those with the highest ranks or awards sitting closest to the host at the head of table. Space is provided for the guests 'plus one'. If a guest does not bring a companion for the evening, some hostesses will go as far as to provide one of adequate poise and breeding. When this is not possible, if a woman is a guest and without a gentleman for the evening, she is often paired with the gentleman who did not bring a companion. In lesser households, the woman's rank or awards may move her higher up the table. In addition there are conventions regarding the attire of the guests, which rarely supersede the order of precedence but some will use as 'tie-breakers'. Then there are the seasonal variations which…"

Flint laughed as he interrupted her, "Yes. Thank you Ms. Brown. That was most informative. As you can guess, there are entire books written on the 'simple' art of seating people appropriately."

"Mr. Longbottom, what is the most common method of determining where one should sit?"

Neville had remained silent throughout, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the apparent purpose of the group. Asked a direct question, he had to answer.

"The hostess will usually indicate where you should sit, sometimes going so far as to include a place card or note."

"The subtleties in indicating the seating are numerous and some are quite insulting. These can be used when one wishes to insult someone beneath them, in such a manner the more refined guests are politely made aware of the insulted party's deficiencies" Draco smiled, remembering one such evening.

"Just so" Flint nodded. "Well said."

"Ten points to Slytherin" mumbled Severus, "for Draco's valuable insight into polite social infighting."

After seating the first group, Marcus asked, "Now for the most important part of the evening. We assume everyone knows which utensil to use and how to eat a given item properly. Now we begin the most profitable portion of the evening, the conversation. Perhaps I am having problems with mudbloods receiving too much attention in our school. Perhaps they are making me look bad in class. I could just come out and say that. But I won't. Mr. Zabini, why won't I start a conversation in such a manner?"

Blaise sat a bit straighter and squared his shoulders as he responded, "It would be rude, but more importantly, it would be ineffective."

"Really? Please explain." Marcus asked with a grin.

"Anyone who would listen to such a poorly worded request is unlikely to be capable of helping you. If they interpreted your request correctly, they are likely to get caught in the process of helping you. Those capable of aiding you without drawing attention would not do so because they would find you unworthy of their help due to your lack of subtlety in your method of requesting action" Mr. Zabini explained in a condescending tone.

Flint chuckled as he responded, "Just so. Can anyone give me an example of a more appropriate way to start the conversation I wanted to start? Miss Parvati Patil, please."

Parvati looking across at Lavender, "My mother will be most disappointed when she hears I am not the top of our year in charms."

Flint nodded, "Still a bit obvious to those who know the direction the conversation is supposed to be guided, but without that… Well done, Miss Patil."

Looking around the table, Flint asked, "Anyone else?"

Ron removed the automatic sneer that graced his face as he looked at Draco, replacing it with a pleasant smile, "Mr. Malfoy, your father's charitable contributions are well known." Ron paused as Draco nodded, wondering where this would go. Ron continued, "If he is looking for additional areas where his charity could reap large dividends, I would like to suggest Hogwarts. I am particularly concerned for the first generation witches and wizards; muggleborns. They are brought into our world knowing almost nothing. Perhaps you could ask your father if he would fund a wizarding culture elective, to teach these poor unfortunate students how to properly assimilate into our society."

Flint started laughing! Nodding toward Professor Snape, before turning to Draco and asking, "Mr. Malfoy, please evaluate Mr. Weasley's introductory comment."

Draco looked at Ron, cocking his head to the side. He had seriously underestimated Ron Weasley. Draco nodded respectfully to Ron before beginning, "As you said previously, knowing where the conversation is supposed to end gives a significant advantage in evaluating it. Mr. Weasley's introductory comment was suitably subtle. It complimented my family, my father specifically, before indicating a method by which my family's known behavior could be used to deal with a current issue. More to the point, the idea is well considered and likely to succeed in allowing purebloods to improve their standing in their classes, as the 'first generation witches and wizards' would have more classes and homework, diverting some of their efforts in classes shared with purebloods."

Ron Weasley smirked, then nodded his head to Draco in acknowledgment of the compliment.

Snape was amazed. Ron Weasley was a devious bastard indeed. The more he thought of it, the more Severus was annoyed. 'How did Weasley not get sorted into Slytherin?' "Five points to Gryffindor for Weasley managing to breath with his mouth closed" Severus muttered. Snape just couldn't bring himself to award points to a Gryffindor without adding an insult.

"Now", Flint interrupted, "Are all halfbloods and mudbloods created equal? Miss Parkinson. Would you marry a mudblood? Under any circumstances?"

Pansy blushed bright red, "No".

"Under no circumstances? Miss Greengrass. Would you marry a mudblood?" Flint continued.

Daphne considered, "I have a sister who could continue my family line. I would lose respect and social standing in the eyes of my peers. Therefore, I would marry a mudblood" gasps were heard around the table "if what I gained from the union exceeded the value of what I had lost."

Lavender looked horrified, "What could you possibly gain that would be worth marrying a mudblood?"

Daphne laughed at her, "Mudblood? I would marry a muggle, if the gains exceeded the losses. As to what I could gain to equal the loss of prestige among my peers; assuming the muggle I wed were Prince Charles, I would be next in line to be Queen of England. Appropriate paperwork would be 'found' to verify my qualifications to do so. Likewise his son, Prince William will be King, and thus I Queen, after his father passes. In becoming Queen of the United Kingdom and Head of the Commonwealth, I gain far more than I lose. Prince Charles is 43. Prince William is 9. Either are adequate age for a contract. As Queen, or even Princess, I would influence muggle government and society to the benefit of my House. Am I likely to marry a muggle? Hardly. But are there circumstances where it is possible? Absolutely!"

Everyone sat in silence before Flint broke it with a laugh and enthusiastic clapping.

"Miss Greengrass, that is the most Slytherin comment made all evening!" Flint cheered.

"Fifteen points to Slytherin for Miss Greengrass' detailed response." Snape murmured.

Marcus continued, "This shows the point I wanted to make quite clear. We want power. Power to affect our way of life. Power to squash those things which threaten us. Power to acquire those things which we desire. Much of the power today rests in the hands of purebloods. We designed the system to keep it that way, from hereditary seats in the Wizengamot to glass ceilings in the Ministry to keep the less desirable in their place. Power is the point."

"Miss Parkinson is offended at the idea of marrying outside the pureblood community. It limits her options. Miss Lavender, would you marry Harry Potter? Some call him a half-blood: although that is not accurate, is it? His mother was a witch, mudblood but still a witch. His father's blood is as pure as anyone's. So, should you marry Harry, your children would be considered pureblood by most. So, Miss Lavender, would you marry Harry Potter?" Flint stared unblinkingly at the witch in question.

Straightening her shoulders and looking Marcus Flint squarely in the eye, Lavender replied, "Yes".

Flint smiled, "As you should. The benefits are significant and the negatives are few. The Potters hold a seat in the Wizengamot, have property and investments throughout the world, and large vaults in Gringotts which are said to be well supplied with heirlooms and gold. Hell, if he asked, I would have to consider it too! And I DON'T fancy men in the least!" Flint laughed at his joke and others joined in.

"Professor Snape, if you please" Flint asked politely.

Professor Snape stood once more, waving his wand and muttering as several more tables appeared, identical to the first, with sufficient seating for those not in the first test group.

"Now, let's eat!"

At Flint's comment, the first course appeared, not on common serving dishes, but on each individual's plate. Each course appeared in its time, the meal far beyond the plebian tastes of the meal they had skipped in the Great Hall.

Two hours later, the purebloods who knew etiquette were clearly distinguished from those who only had a passing familiarity with the subject. Ronald Bilius Weasley was the largest surprise to everyone other than his brothers. (Molly had beaten proper behavior into all her children.)

As they dispersed for the evening, everyone was surprised by one other thing. The meeting had been a lot of fun.

*** Assistant Headmistress' Office, Two Weeks Later ***

Filius was at a loss. In all his years teaching, nothing like this had happened before, which is why he found himself with Pomona and Minerva discussing it over a therapeutic dose of Ogden's Finest.

"Honestly" Filius began "I don't know what to do. Students will always make some excuse or other to excuse their late papers, but the number of students doing it this year seems far beyond normal."

Pomona nodded as she voiced her thoughts, "And they all seem to say the same thing, 'I can't find it' or 'I lost it', but they all claim to have done the work and when quizzed, they know the material. This is something beyond a few students trying to avoid homework."

Minerva took a sip of her 'medicine' before throwing in her thoughts "Have you noticed who is using these excuses to not turn in their work?"

Although Minerva had meant it as a rhetorical question, Filius immediately responded, "Among the first years: Roper, Perks, Cornfoot, Turpin, McDougal, Entwhistle, Finch-Fletchley, and Granger. Among the second years: "

McGonagall held up her hand to interrupt the rest of the list, "That is sufficient. Do you see a pattern?"

Professor Sprout's eyes popped wide as she squeaked, "Muggleborn. They are all muggleborn…"

Minerva nodded, "And the same pattern is present in the other classes. Persecution of the muggleborn has reached an unprecedented level this year. If we asked Poppy, she would tell us there is an unusual level of bumps and bruises caused by 'walking into doors', 'not watching where I was going', and 'I fell'. Bad dreams are also at unprecedented levels, according to Poppy."

Filius did not look happy and when he wasn't happy, his goblin side swam all too close to the surface.

Before he could say anything someone might have to give testimony on, Pomona interrupted, "What can we do? How can we help these children?"

Minerva sighed, "Until we catch someone in the act, we will have to keep our eyes open. After we catch someone…"

Minerva's evil smile made Filius much more comfortable. There was more than a little goblin in that woman. He was certain of it. He also added her to the list of people he would never willingly cross.

Halloween

Harry was spending too much time with Merlin. He was well aware of this. In fact, he was starting to see the portrait as a person instead of a portrait. It was hard not to. Merlin spoke to him like he was another juggler. Harry's summers in the park, talking trade with the other jugglers, was the closest to real human contact he had before coming to Hogwarts. Speaking of, what the hell? Who would name a school anything 'hog' or 'wart' related? Back to the point, Harry was spending too much time with Merlin.

Professor Sprout had reminded Harry attending the Halloween feast was a non-optional social obligation. Well, she did not use those exact words, but that was the meaning. So, when Harry found himself in front of Merlin, practicing a new catch/pass/throw, he was not surprised when one of the other portraits entered Merlin's frame to chastise him for being late to the feast. Merlin did something strange with the balls he was tossing currently and the other portrait seemed annoyed and left. Harry thought he would be able to skip the feast and stay with Merlin for the evening. Halloween did not seem as much fun, after he found out why the wizarding world celebrated.

"Harry," Merlin interrupted his thoughts, "You need to go to the feast. No need to annoy the bearded one. At least, not yet…" Merlin grinned mischievously and waggled his eyebrows. "Cheerio, pip-pip and all that rot. I will see you tomorrow I am certain, young Lord. In the meantime, hurry to the feast and be sure to practice that catch/toss/pass before I see you again." With that Merlin started whistling as he wandered into the background of his frame.

"Well, might as well get it over with. If nothing else, there will be plenty of treacle tarts." Harry smiled. Of all the desserts he had discovered at Hogwarts, treacle tarts were easily his favorite.

Hurrying from Harry's corridor, as he had come to think of it, he was completely intending to go to straight to the Great Hall. It was not his fault a scream interrupted his diligent attempt to attend the feast. He would be able to swear that quite truthfully. The opportunity … er… obligation to render assistance to a fellow human being just happened to take precedence! Harry smiled as he raced toward the intermittent screaming. With luck, this would delay him enough to miss the feast entirely! He might even sneak in some more time with Merlin.

Running along the corridor, the screams were joined by a bestial grunt, then a great clatter, as if someone threw all the stoneware in the kitchen against the wall (and also ground the pieces against each other for good measure).

As Harry skidded to a halt, he realized he was in the loo and not the one he was supposed to use either! The screaming was nearly constant now and emanated from the bushy haired Ravenclaw he had met on the train, Hermione.

The reason for her screams became abundantly clear as a giant lump of a man(?) shuffled forward before swinging his club at the screaming. Had the girl not ducked at the last moment, her formidable brains would have presented a challenge to Filch's cleaning fluids and mops. Harry could not really blame the guy. He had only just gotten there and the screaming was really getting on his nerves. He could only imagine if the big guy had to listen to it the whole time!

Watching the big guy, Harry decided he was a lot like Dudley, a bit thick and prone to attempt to solve problems with violence. And when you are as big as Dudley, many problems can be solved quickly with an appropriate level of violence enthusiastically applied.

Harry smiled, remembering Dudley could be distracted by pretty things. That of course was the entire reason Harry was forced to learn to juggle. Well, if it would work with one lumbering oaf, perhaps it would work with another?

Harry took out three balls and began a simple pattern before attempting to garner the big guy's attention.

"HEY! BIG GUY! LOOK AT THIS!" Harry shouted as loudly as he could, trying to drown out Hermione's high pitched screams.

Harry fed more balls into the pattern. He had taken to carrying twelve these days, since Merlin began teaching him. Twelve was still beyond him, except for the simplest patterns. But at the moment he was grateful for the extra ammunition, for that was how he was about to use at least one. A quick grab, underhanded power throw, and Hermione caught the ball in her belly button. Well, 'caught' is a bit of a euphemistic description of what Hermione did. Basically the ball hit her in the gut with the power of a good punch, knocking the wind out of her and more importantly… stopping her screaming.

"Stay down! Get out of sight. And for the sake of all you hold precious, QUIT SCREAMING!"

Harry screaming at Hermione to stop screaming would have been an amusing bit of irony, had not the big guy decided to see who was making noise now.

Raising his club above his head as he turned to face Harry, the troll froze before cocking his head to the side. Harry was tossing eight balls through a simple pattern. A simple pattern to Harry, that is… the troll found it most perplexing. Reaching out, the troll attempted to pluck one ball from the pattern, but they were moving too quickly. Deciding to play to his wheelhouse, the troll swung his club through the air above Harry's head in an attempt to disrupt the pattern.

Harry could have performed this simple pattern in his sleep. (That is literal, as Neville had to wake him from sleep walking a few times!) So, he had plenty of attention to give the big guy swinging the tree trunk. When the club began moving toward his juggling balls, he varied several tosses to avoid them meeting the club. Still, he had never practiced with a giant trying to use his balls as batting practice. The club managed to knock one ball into the far wall, the seams bursting with the impact before it slid down the wall to lie quietly on the flooded floor.

Harry was very annoyed. Even Dudley did not damage his juggling balls. Still, since the big guy was twice his height and probably eight times his mass, he was prepared to forgive the one ball's destruction as a misunderstanding among new acquaintances. (That and he was pretty sure the big guy could rip his head off without an effort! Self-preservation is a strong instinct, even in the very young!)

Harry managed to prevent the club from hitting any more of his balls, but the big guy became rapidly bored with each new pattern, forcing Harry to move into more complex patterns to maintain his attention. Soon Harry was using techniques Merlin had taught him. The troll quickly became bored with even those.

Harry decided to try some combinations of techniques Merlin had taught him. (He had been thinking about how easy it would be to combine certain techniques, so easy in fact Harry would later decide Merlin was teaching him pieces of a more complex pattern.)

Harry pocketed all but six balls, immediately moving into the first technique before the big guy got bored again. He then moved into the second technique. Again, Big and Stinky was rapidly bored. Harry combined the first and second technique and nearly dropped everything. Only his endless hours of practice prevented disaster as Harry was greeted with something completely unexpected, the balls began to glow. Wondering how long before Stinky got bored with this combined technique, Harry was amazed to see the troll sit in front of him, dropping his club as he began to clap his hands in pleasure and laughing. At least Harry hoped it was laughter. That did look like a smile, but the sound could best be approximated by head-sized granite pieces half filling an industrial drum which was then rolled down a very steep hill.

This pattern did not get boring for his big friend. The longer Harry maintained it, the brighter the balls glowed, until they were leaving streaking after-images. Harry altered the strength and angle of his catches, creating geometric patterns of loops, curves, and lines in the air.

Harry did not know how long his command performance for his audience of one (or so he thought) had continued before he heard light applause behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder showed all the senior staff watching him entertain the troll. Hagrid loomed over the other teachers with a smile that bore more than a passing similarity to the troll's.

Looking back at the troll, Harry spoke quietly, "If someone knows how to handle the big guy here, so he doesn't start swinging that tree around again, I would appreciate it. Hagrid, you are about his size. Think you could help him move somewhere less dangerous to the student body?"

Hagrid's voice rumbled with humor, "Absolutely Harry. Could you keep doing that for a bit? I just need to step through next to him and…"

Whatever Hagrid was going to say was lost as a bright beam of red light flashed past Harry, hitting the troll in his open mouth as he continued to laugh like an amused toddler.

After the troll fell over backward, no longer moving, Harry caught all his balls as he whipped around to see who had fired.

"You didn't have to kill him!" Harry fumed at the professors. All now had their wands out, so he could not tell who cast the spell.

"Arrogant whelp! Who are you to question how we protect this school?" Snape scowled.

"Well a damn fine job you did of it, isn't it? If I had not come along, Hermione would be dead. Not to mention I had to deliberately attract the attention of a smelly mountain of bad temper and muscle in order to save her, thus placing another student's life in danger, mine!"

"It's true. Harry saved me. I wasn't able to do anything but scream. I was too scared. If Harry had not come along and distracted him, the troll would have killed me. He told me to hide while he dealt with it." Hermione said as she slowly exited the last stall of the girls' loo.

The air filled with the sound of wind chimes as a golden glow surrounded Hermione before streaking to Harry.

Harry did not feel an impact, only a sense of warmth as the light seemed to soak into him.

"Okay… that was… different" Harry finally said.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Just like his father" before he turned on his heel and limped away.

Dumbledore just shook his head, thinking 'Yet another kink in what should have been a simple plan.'

"So, would someone like to explain why you killed my new friend?"

"Lord Potter, Professor Snape used a stunner to incapacitate the troll. Since their hide is extremely resistant to magic, he aimed the stunner at the inside of the troll's mouth. The troll is not permanently harmed and will wake with little more than some sore muscles and a large headache." Professor Flitwick explained.

"Hagrid, could you have safely escorted the big guy from the school?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Well, er" Hagrid looked at Dumbledore for guidance in his answer, but the Headmaster was busy watching Hermione.

"Er… Yes. He was in a playful mood. Your doing, that. I could have led him from the castle easily, especially if you had come with me. I think he likes you." Hagrid chuckled as he said that last part.

"So, violence is an option. Good to know." Harry snarked. "I am going to take Miss Granger to the infirmary. With your permission, of course." The last was directed to Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick, as they are the head of house for the two students involved.

"Harry, why weren't you at the feast" Dumbledore queried with some annoyance. Harry could tell the Headmaster was annoyed, but could not see why that question would be considered relevant, given the events of the last hour or so.

"Sir, I was on my way to the feast when I heard Miss Granger scream. Is my absence from the feast really important at this point in time? Or may I escort Hermione to the infirmary now?"

The Headmaster waved him on, so Lord Potter gave his arm to Miss Granger and after she took his elbow, they left the girls' bathroom for the infirmary.

After they left, Minerva turned to Albus, "You know what happened. Not telling him will not prevent the consequences. Miss Granger owes Lord Potter a Life Debt. While they did not use the accepted formula for acknowledging the debt, Magic obviously agreed the debt exists and the bond was formed. You saw it."

Dumbledore shook his head and left as Filius and Pomona started putting the bathroom back together.

Minerva, Filius, and Pomona all looked at each other as Hagrid pulled the troll over his shoulder and walked away.

***On the way to the Infirmary***

Harry wondered how to start this conversation, then decided to just 'jump in'.

"Hermione, why were you in that bathroom? Even if you needed to go to the restroom, you should have used one much closer to the Great Hall."

Hermione hung her head in embarrassment, "I was hiding from … "

"Ron?"

"Not this time, but some of his friends."

"They abused you?"

"No! They just call me names and …"

"So, they are bullying you."

Hermione admitted, "Yes, I guess. It's nothing more than what happened before I came to Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head violently, "That doesn't make it right. In fact, as they are older than the children who used to bully you, it is worse. They should know better by now."

Hermione could not argue with that, so she remained silent and hung her head.,,

"Hermione," Harry began tentatively, "I have a solution for you. It is pretty radical, but it would prevent much of the bullying you are experiencing."

Hermione picked up her head with excitement and something she had not experienced before, hope; hope the bullying might eventually end.

"How?"

*** The Next Morning, The Great Hall ***

The Great Hall was almost deafening as the drone of hundreds of low conversations joined to create an incomprehensible din. Rumors about the troll were running rampant. Everyone knew 'something' happened last night, but very few knew what. Even fewer knew the consequences of that evening.

Harry took a deep breath as one of those consequences entered the Hall, standing still, quickly scanning the Hall before locking her gaze on Harry. Hermione inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before slowly exhaling. Her face became resolute as she took her first stride toward Harry, each subsequent step seemed to become easier for her, until she was coming toward the Hufflepuff table in a slow, almost ceremonial march.

The noise level died as more people became aware of Hermione's behavior. Her gait might have drawn a bit of attention, but it was her attire which stopped conversations. A pure white linen gown with loose sleeves moved gracefully with her every step. Each step also confirmed, to those close enough to see, Hermione was barefoot; her bare toes extending from beneath the hem with each step, only to be quickly hidden once more. Her hair, normally a bushy halo, was tamed by small, long braids which crisscrossed her hair. Small white and crystal beads were woven into the braids, sparkling in the light of the Great Hall. Each curve of braid possessed a sheen, hinting to the females of Hogwarts how she had tamed her normally unruly hair. (The males remained clueless, with few exceptions.)

Silence reigned as she walked to Harry; a silence so profound the wings of a snitch would have been clearly heard by all.

Harry watched her come to him. He knew what was about to happen, yet his calm face was a lie. Butterflies the size of Dudley's cast offs were threatening to expel his light breakfast. Forcing himself to exhibit a calm he did not feel, he rose and met her in the center of the Hall.

Hermione had stopped in the center of the Hall, waiting for Harry to approach. When he was within arm's reach, she knelt gracefully.

Harry took one last step, standing directly in front of her before leaning down to whisper a question only she could hear, "Are you sure?"

Hermione's answer was so soft, only the utter stillness of the Great Hall allowed even Harry to hear it, "Yes".

Harry rose to stand before Hermione as she bowed her head, crossing her wrists and extending her arms up toward Harry.

The silence at last broken as every pureblood inhaled sharply, certain what was happening would change everything.

The Headmaster shook his head in annoyance. There was nothing he could do to stop this. THIS was just a formality. The damage was done the night previous, in a bathroom of all places.

Harry took Hermione's wrists in his left hand.

"Do you wish to be mine in all things?" Harry queried, starting the ritual.

An electric tension filled the Hall, raising hairs along the observer's arms.

Hermione's voice answered clearly, "Yes".

Harry nodded "I find you acceptable to be a vassal of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Are you prepared to swear fealty?"

"Yes".

The magic seemed to vibrate in anticipation.

"Proceed".

Hermione took a deep breath and spoke the words which would changer her life forever.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, do hereby swear;
Fealty and service unto the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Lord Harry James Potter.
To speak and to be silent, to do and to let be,
To come and to go, in need and in plenty,
In peace and in war, in living and in dying,
From this hour henceforth, until my Lord release me,
Death take me, or the world end."

With each line, the electric feel of the Hall intensified, but no one noticed. Everyone's eyes were glued to Harry and Hermione and the yellow glow growing around their combined hands.

With his free hand, Harry lifts Hermione's chin until she is looking in his eyes.

"I, Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter,
Hear and shall not forget,
Nor fail to reward that which is freely given:
Fealty with Love,
Valor with Honor,
and Oathbreaking with Vengeance.
Rise now and go in peace and with my protection."

As Harry spoke, the glow grew brighter and larger, eventually covering them both completely.

As Harry spoke the last line, completing the ritual, the glow seeped into their bodies as a loud POP was heard.

Helping Hermione to her feet, Harry's left hand felt strange. Looking at it, he saw what had not been there before the ritual, a large ring with the Potter coat of arms.

Draco had watched the entire scene from the Slytherin tables. Everything had gone exactly as he had planned, even the ring's appearance on Harry's hand, confirming Harry's status as Head of House. Draco was ecstatic, although he hid it behind his emotionless public mask. No one knew, not even Harry, that Draco had made his first major move on the political stage.

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter would continue to grow in numbers and strength.

Draco would accept nothing less.

AN: I am working on the next chapter. Give you a hint... The Dursley's get to know Prof. Sprout better. :D

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

AN: Harry Potter and all things Potter belong to JKR. Or, if you recognize it from somewhere else, it is not mine. Thanks to JKR for letting us play in the universe she created!
AN: Still need to delete the first copy of chapter 11, but you have probably figured that out by now. Unfortunately life is getting a bit hectic at the moment. (I am remodeling a bathroom with a damaged floor and no.. this is not my profession. I am making it up as I go! PRAY FOR ME! :D )
AN: I do not like the conversion rate from galleons to pounds used by JKR. So, mine is a bit different. I did the math for historical gold, silver, copper, and tin prices of the 1990s and the conversion rates of 1.8 (since the prices were in US$) and ended with ~35GBP per galleon, ~0.5GBP per sickle, and a knut is ~1pence.

To make my life easier: I am assuming:
a galleon is equal to 50GBP,
100 sickles equal 1 galleon, and
1 knut equals 1 pence.
Or… 50GBP = 1 Galleon = 100 sickles = 5000 knuts.

Chapter 12

"Headmaster, it is time for my first visit to Mr. Potter's guardians." Professor Sprout said abruptly as she came into the Headmaster's office.

"Come in Pomona. Please have a seat." Dumbledore waved to the comfy chair in front of his desk. "How are you? I am doing fine, thank you for asking." Albus smiled.

"Headmaster, we both know that is not going to work on me. You want to distract me with pleasantries and find a method to detour me from my proper course as Head of Hufflepuff. I refuse to forgo a visit with Lord Potter's guardians, especially when child abuse is evident. So, we both know I will get what I want in this matter or you will be discharging me. Which will it be?" Sprout waited with a patient smile. There was no way Albus would fire her. The students of Hufflepuff were a strange mix of loyalty, diligence, and various other traits which made them less suited to the houses of the Brave, Intelligent, or Cunning. Their diversity made Hufflepuff a much more difficult house to keep running smoothly, as compared to the other three. In short, there was no one to replace her. She and Albus both knew it. As such, this 'discussion' was a formality only.

Dumbledore was considering replacing Sprout as Head of Hufflepuff. He had been considering it constantly since Harry was sorted there. To give himself more time to think, Sprout had been diverted gently to the other students whose guardians she had not yet visited. That was no longer possible. Harry was the last.

"I will need to extract some promises from you, before I tell you the address" Dumbledore temporized.

Professor Sprout smiled. She did not need the address, having obtained it from Minerva near the beginning of the term. Knowing victory was near, she was gracious, "What promises would you have of me, Albus? We both know they will take this visit poorly and that intimidation will be required to obtain their cooperation. How much intimidation will depend on how poorly they take this visit. I would prefer the standard veiled threat of constant observation and a few oblique references to guardians who failed to take me seriously in the past. For most rational individuals, that will be plenty. You don't mean to tell me you have placed the savior of the wizarding world in a home with irrational guardians, do you?" Sprout smiled brightly, knowing Albus was caught, unable to admit he knew the Dursleys were terrible guardians.

Albus sighed wearily, knowing he was caught and hoping he could control whatever damage Pomona caused this time…

"Just swear you will not use magic on them, their belongings, or their home." Albus stated flatly.

"Of course! I would never use magic to intimidate the Dursleys."

The Headmaster just raised an eyebrow and stared at her.

"That was a special circumstance and you know it!" Pomona huffed.

"Pomona, your oath…"

"You don't trust me? They must be worse than I suspect. Very well. I, Pomona Sprout, swear upon my magic I will not use magic to intimidate the Dursleys during my visit."

"During your visit? That seems a bit open for abuse, don't you agree?"

"Albus, if you think I will swear on my magic to never use magic on a pair of child abusers, you have lost your mind. Now, is that good enough for you?"

"I suppose" Albus regretfully agreed. "Lastly, promise you will do your best to blend in as a muggle."

"I promise, I will look exactly like a muggle. I have the perfect disguise in mind."

Pomona's innocent expression as she turned and walked away did nothing to soothe the headmaster's nerves.

Albus realized belatedly, he had not provided Sprout with the address, nor has Pomona requested it. He whispered to himself an old truism, "Two can keep a secret… if one of them is dead."

Shaking his head, knowing it was a minor issue although still frustrating, he reluctantly returned to his paperwork.

In Professor Sprout's Quarters

Pomona searched through her treasures, knick-knacks and what-nots she had collected over the years. Stored carefully in an envelope, she found what she sought; a lock of dark hair she purchased from a muggle she admired, purchased at a charity auction.

'This and a little polyjuice will provide the perfect disguise' she thought happily. 'Not to mention, it is not every day one gets to impersonate one of your idols.'

Last summer a muggleborn 'puff alumna had convinced Pomona to attend the muggle cinema for Mel Gibson's rendition of Hamlet. Mel might be the big name there, but in Pomona's mind Ophelia stole the show. The actress was sublime in her madness.

Unable to resist, Professor Sprout poured out a single draught of polyjuice and added three hairs to it before draining it all. Waiting, her skin boiled and bubbled, leaving her a dark haired young woman, slight of stature with piercing brown eyes. Smiling she quoted her favorite lines.

"Pray let's have no words of this; but when they ask, you what it means, say you this:
[Sings] To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning bedtime,
And I a maid at your window,
To be your Valentine.
Then up he rose and donn'd his clo'es
And dupp'd the chamber door,
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more."

Smiling mischievously, she changed into more muggle appropriate clothing.

'How could anyone live here' Pomona thought to herself as she walked toward her destination.

Houses lined the street on both sides. Little side fences ran toward the sidewalk as if fearing the neighbor might accidentally tread on another's lawn. Perfectly trimmed lawns would soon be dormant as the late fall's chill laid frost upon the tips. All the houses were painted differently, but all from the same color scheme. Insignificantly different. Homogenously distinctive. Or to put it simply, boring.

Professor Sprout approached the indicated address as a woman on a mission should, resolutely. After having to threaten the Headmaster for the 'privilege' to address the parents of one of her badgers, the Dursleys would be on the receiving end of her less than sunny disposition.

Poking the odd circle on the door frame, Pomona heard a musical note sound from within the dwelling.

The doorbell interrupted the Dursley Breakfast Routine. The DBR was very well established with Dudders in Smeltings and the freak at that place. It starts with the newspaper and a steaming cup of coffee during the week, followed by a typical hardy English breakfast. Saturday and Sunday were especially enjoyable. Not having the needs of a workday allowed Vernon to dress casually and linger over his breakfast. It was a most enjoyable way to begin the day, or it was. The doorbell put an end to that.

Assuming it was some half-pence door-to-door solicitor, Vernon rose in a huff from his mostly finished breakfast and stomped to the door to give a piece of his mind (as if he had plenty to spare) to whomever had disturbed his leisure time.

Yanking the door open with a loud "Go away! We don't want any!" before slamming the door and returning to his breakfast. He was already seated before the image of the person on his door step fully penetrated. She was… yes, definitely a 'she'… She was beautiful with an aristocratic air. Dark hair, full lips, impeccable makeup and penetrating blue eyes began to make their impression on Vernon's ponderous intellect.

A cup breaking as it crashed to the floor roused Vernon from his musings. Petunia was in the living room, peaking out the window at the woman. Vernon heard his wife whisper loudly, "Vernon, what have you done?" as she rushed to the front door, pulling it open quickly to find Helena Bonham Carter, THE Helena Bonham Carter, standing at her door. Looking past her, Petunia saw eyes peering from every neighborhood window she could see. Nosey neighbors who would soon be ringing each other, talking about them behind their backs. Taking a deep breath, Petunia collected herself, smiled apologetically and invited Ms. Carter in.

"Please come in Ms. Carter. My apologies for my husband's behavior. He thought you were a door-to-door salesman." Petunia explained, apologized, and invited all at once. This significantly stretched her communication skills, but was worth it to get Ms. Carter away from all the gawkers.

Ms. Carter stepped gracefully into the Dursley's home and waited by the stairs as Petunia closed the front door.

"Please, come this way, Ms. Carter" Petunia simpered as she walked past Ms. Carter into the sitting room.

Ms. Carter walked to the doorway to the sitting room and stopped, looking around the room she noticed pictures of a rather chubby lad who was definitely not Harry. The furniture was generic middle class pretending to be more. Wallpaper continued the pretense of affluence, without fooling anyone acquainted with wealth. On it went, with each item separating the room from the people who lived in it. Or so they would hope. The stress of supporting Vernon was clearly evident in the fabric of the large recliner. A worn path from the doorway to the front window, combined with the larger worn circle showed spying on those outside was someone's favorite pastime.

"How quaint. I see you have an eye for decorating." Ms. Carter said genially. "You have a lovely home. I see your son is a strapping young lad. How do you manage to feed him? I remember my brother at that age; seemed he was always eating."

"Oh yes, our Dudders does like a good meal, just like his father. Money is not a problem though. Vernon, my husband, is quite the salesman. He works in management at Grunnings. He has always provided well for the family." Petunia beamed as she bragged about her family. Even spying on the neighbors was a distant second to the pleasure she felt when relating her family's successes.

Vernon walked through the doorway to the sitting room and stood by his favorite chair.

Waving to the couch, "Come in. Sit. Get comfortable." Vernon said rather louder than necessary.

Ms. Carter smiled, "If you don't mind, I need a moment in the necessary room." She said politely as she turned and walked to the cupboard door beneath the stairs, pulling it open smoothly and taking a step as if to enter.

Petunia's hand covered her mouth as she watched it happen.

Vernon looked confused between anger and embarrassment. Embarrassment won as he turned a bright red and looked anywhere else.

Ms. Carter returned to the room, "I think I can wait. Let's have that discussion, shall we?" She walked into the room and took the couch Vernon had indicated earlier. "I know it is a bit early, but if possible, I would like a spot of tea."

Petunia responded quickly, "Absolutely! The kettle is already hot. I will be right back."

Vernon and Ms. Carter sat in an uneasy silence as Petunia scrambled about the kitchen. Scant minutes later Petunia returned with a tea service for three and some jammy dodgers on a tiered biscuit tray, all on a silver platter.

"Thank you Mrs. Dursley" Ms. Carter said as she leaned forward and poured her cup. Placing three biscuits on the saucer, she set it demurely on her knees as she sipped her tea.

After she served herself, Petunia looked at Vernon to see if he wanted some tea, since he had mostly finished his breakfast when the door rang. The slight nod had her moving to pour for her husband and then herself, before sitting back to wait whatever was about to happen. Petunia was not stupid, although she often acted dumber than she really was. Vernon made it clear early in their relationship that he had no use for a woman with 'too many brains'.

"Well, I am sure you would like to know what is going on, so I won't keep you wondering any longer. I am not Helena Bonham Carter, although I do admire her greatly, especially her Ophelia with Mel Gibson. Superb actress!" Ms. Carter explained.

"You are one of 'them'" Petunia said. It was not a question, but rather a statement of fact.

Vernon's face became red again, although this time anger, not embarrassment, was the cause. "Get out!" he said forcefully. "We don't want your kind here!"

"Yes, that is quite obvious. Such a little pig of a boy", waving at the pictures around the room, "You obviously love him, too much I would say. You spoil him and give him whatever he wants every time he pouts or throws a temper tantrum, don't you?"

Vernon stood quickly, pointing his finger at Ms. Carter, "I don't know what that little freak told you, but we do not spoil our child! Now, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Ms. Carter smiled, but didn't move. "I think not. We have a conversation which will wait no longer."

Vernon was turning an interesting shade of burgundy as he thundered at the woman who invaded his house under false pretenses, "GET OUT OR I WON'T BE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS!"

Ms. Carter's smile became a full grin, "Or what? Will you call the bobbies? Maybe you will introduce me to your belt? Perhaps a smack or two about the face and shoulders? Teach me a woman's proper place." Ms. Carter looked sharply at Petunia and knew she would not be the first woman Vernon had 'taught her place.'

Vernon sputters as spittle flies from his mouth, a red rage descending upon him.

"Can't hit a woman?" Ms. Carter continues looking at his wife, knowing he probably had, "…yet… I am sure the time will come. Maybe you only hit kids? Or is it simpler than even that? Maybe you only hit Harry…"

Vernon had enough! He lunges across and grabs Ms Carter by her upper arm to drag her from his home! In his rage he did not notice the small dots of pain across his palm as he pulled Ms. Carter from the couch and began dragging her to the front door.

Ms. Carter never lost her smile as she was dragged roughly from the couch and almost dragged from the sitting room. Almost, because before he had quite made the sitting room door, his grip loosened and her arm slipped from his fingers.

Vernon was angry and confused, never a good combination for him. His hand would not obey his commands. It just hung there on the end of his arm. Well, his other hand was fine! He reached out and grabbed Ms. Carter again, dragging her toward the front door. Had his brain been functioning properly, perhaps he would have noticed Ms. Carter made no attempt to escape his second assault upon her person. Perhaps he would have noticed the numb feeling creeping up from his now useless hand. Perhaps. Perhaps not. But as he neared the front door, he did notice his other hand would no longer grip Ms. Carter tightly. She merely stood still and his hand slipped off her arm.

"What did you do to me you WITCH?" Vernon bellowed.

Ms. Carter just smiled.

Petunia was pale as a ghost. She knew Vernon was dying.

"What do you want?" Petunia pleaded.

Ms. Carter replied politely, "I just want to talk to you about Harry. I even promised the Headmaster I would not use magic to intimidate you. Of course, I have been known to break a promise now and then, when the need requires it." Looking at Vernon she continued, "No, I did not use magic on you. Not a bit. You are so afraid of magic, but truth be told, the muggle world holds far more potential for death and destruction than the magical world ever will."

"What did you do to him?" Petunia whined.

"Nothing. He did it to himself. I was warned he could be a violent man, so I prepared for it. Something like a healer wearing a mask to visit a contagious patient… no, that is not quite right… Like a soldier carrying a weapon on guard duty. Yes, more like that." Looking at Vernon again, "You poisoned yourself Mr. Dursley. When you grabbed me, the thorns which decorate my dress punctured your hand. Thorns, I should mention, which were soaked in curare, an entirely muggle compound. Of course, I have the antidote with me. Would you like it? It is entirely muggle also; a derivative of several plants you can buy almost anywhere in Britain. That should make you feel better, right?"

Opening her clutch, she pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, handing them to Petunia.

"His hands won't work now, since he was stupid enough to attack me with both. You will need to hold this for him while he smokes it."

"Vernon doesn't smoke" Petunia protested.

"Today he does. Of course, if you would like to give me permission to use magic, I could fix him up right as rain in two shakes of a lamb's tail. But he will have to ask me to cure him." Ms. Carter smiled.

If looks could kill, Ms. Carter would be quite dead from the glare Vernon sent her way, "I want nothing from you freaks!"

"Very well, then you will have to cure your muggle problem with a muggle solution. The smoke will go straight to your lungs where it will be absorbed very quickly, which is a good thing since the curare will kill you in minutes. Now I should warn you, there will be some rather annoying side effects of that drug cocktail. You will get nauseous, dizzy, a honking big headache and so on. There may also be some confusion, muscle pain, belly pain, trouble sleeping tonight, runny nose, constipation, shakes, anxiety, hallucinations, sweating, burning on urination, changes in heart rate, and suicide." Ms. Carter rattled the list Poppy had her memorize.

"WHAT?" Petunia yelled. "Suicide is a side-effect?"

"Potential only. Many muggle drugs have suicide as a potential side effect. But it is unlikely and you did say you wanted to do things the muggle way. So, light the cigarette and hold it for him to smoke while we talk, Mrs. Dursley." Ms. Carter smiled as she walked over to the cupboard and opened it. Her smile faded as she imagined Harry living here for a decade.

Turning back to the Dursleys, an icy tone evident in her voice and lethal consequences evident in her stance, Ms. Carter began, "Now that I have your undivided attention, we are going to have a conversation. Well, I will talk. You will listen. When I ask questions, you will answer clearly and politely. Do you understand?"

Both nodded. Petunia jumped as the cigarette burned her fingers.

"Vernon, you need to smoke a bit slower, otherwise you will be throwing up on the floor. Trust me, not being able to use your arms as you throw up will be very messy." Ms. Carter said as she handed Petunia another cigarette.

"Now, where to begin?" Ms. Carter's face began to bubble and contort as the polyjuice wore off. "Ah yes. Perfect timing. Good thing this dress is 'one size fits all'. Still a bit tight though and the shoes had to come off. But, all in all, not a bad choice." Smiling she curtsied, "I am Professor Pomona Sprout, Head of House for Hufflepuff at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry is a member of my House and as such I take a special interest in his safety and well-being. In case I am being too subtle, that means for the next seven years, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year I will be 'interested' in how he is being treated. And that most definitely includes how he is treated by you two and your son."

Taking a deep breath and giving the Dursleys the smile which caused the Weasley twins to remember something they needed to do somewhere else.

"So, let's start at the beginning. Tell me how Harry came to live here…"

Several hours and a quick swig of polyjuice later, Ms. Carter left Number 4 Privet Drive, leaving Vernon throwing up everything he had eaten and then some. Dry heaves are never fun, but she couldn't think of a more deserving wretch to experience them. She was quite angry, having at last heard all the fine details of exactly what Harry had survived. Yes, 'survived' was the appropriate word.

It would have only taken 5 cigarettes to counter the curare Vernon injected himself with, but as she heard more of the abuse, she kept giving Petunia another cigarette as each burned out. She wanted to make sure the Dursleys believed they needed more of the antidote she and Poppy had meticulously measured and rolled into those coffin-nails. But mostly, she wanted to make sure her visit and not so thinly veiled warnings were remembered.

Her last comment to the Dursleys as she left, "If I have to come back to defend Harry or avenge him, I promise I will not be so lenient. I will bring MAGIC with me, as well as many friends and when I leave, this fine home will be a pile of toothpicks and both of you and that lovely son of yours will be paralyzed; prisoners of your own bodies. You will spend the rest of your VERY long lives that way. And I will come visit you every day in your long term care facility. I will use magic to assure you live long enough to regret every indignity you caused Harry." The absolute terror in Vernon's eyes told Pomona her message had been heard and understood.

As she walked down toward the sidewalk, Ms. Carter stopped for a moment and pulled two eggs from her clutch. Examining each carefully, she threw one to each side of the walkway, causing them to break upon the beautifully maintained lawn.

Whistling as she walked away from Privet Drive, she enjoyed her act of petty vengeance.

Dumbledore said Harry must stay where his mother's blood resides. Dumbledore said Harry would be protected from Voldemort and his followers as long as he lived with his mother's blood at least four weeks of the year, as long as he called this place 'home'. 'Dumbledore said, Dumbledore said, Dumbledore said… Dumbledore says a lot of things' she thought bitterly.

An evil smile crossed Ms. Carter's face. 'But there are always loopholes to what Dumbledore says', Pomona thought.

Earlier in the semester, after a very long argument, Dumbledore had convinced her Harry needed to live at Number Four at least a few weeks of each year and needed to be able to call this home.

The Headmaster had not convinced her Vernon was critical to that plan.

Chapter 14: Chapter 14 Scars and Curses

AN: I can't believe it has been almost a year since I updated! I am so sorry! To make it up to you, I am posting an extra-long (for me) chapter and have one ready for posting in one week.

Now, on to the story!

Disclaimer: My wife is not JKR and I have no claim on anything Harry Potter. She just likes me enough to let me build my sand castles on her beach. Isn't that nice of her? Thanks Jo!

WARNING: Indications of child abuse and neglect!

Chapter 13

"What?"

Harry's cry would have raised half the castle if Draco had not layered silencing and privacy spells over the walls, floor, ceiling, windows, and door to the unused classroom. He knew Harry might take this poorly.

"Harry, think about it…" Draco patiently stated and waited for Harry to calm down and catch up.

Harry sputtered, "You just said your father was in service to the man who killed my parents and tried to kill ME… What is there to think about?"

Draco waited.

Harry paced the room while thinking.

"Ok, you told me this voluntarily. I did not know and would not likely have found out."

Harry stopped and looked at Draco who merely raised one eyebrow.

"Really?" Harry asked with an astounded look. "Who knew and when would I have found out?"

Draco smirked.

Harry screamed at the ceiling and shook his fists.

"So, the information is widely known and it is certain I would have found out eventually" Harry huffed. "So, you telling me now could be nothing more than controlling when and how the information gets to me."

Draco smiled.

'Big breath in… long slow breath out' Harry thought as he reigned his emotions back under control. Looking at Draco intently, he softly said, "Your father is directly responsible for the deaths of my parents. He is indirectly responsible for the last decade of hell I have lived through. You know about my parents. Let me show you what else your father is responsible for."

Harry stepped to the center of the classroom and pulled his robe off. He proceeded to undress completely at a slow and steady pace, one article of clothing at a time. Harry was not embarrassed, he was livid as he thought of each beating, each cigarette burn, each cut, indignity, embarrassment, hungry night, and the complete lack of anything approaching affection from a human being.

Draco was stunned. Harry taking off his clothes was pretty close to the last thing he would have expected when he planned this secret meeting. Draco had planned for every contingency; being discovered by a head of house, being overheard by a classmate, Dumbledore using the portraits to spy on them, Dumbledore walking in during their meeting, etc. Draco even planned for the castle catching fire; earthquake, flooding, or the return of The Dark Lord. But he did not plan for this. Never in a million years would he have even considered this.

Harry was trembling as he stood there, completely nude in the drafty old castle classroom. Draco had started to move to pick up Harry's robe and hand it back to him when he realized something was very wrong. Harry was not shaking from the cold or embarrassment or anything as mundane as anger. No, Harry was shaking in rage and the room was starting to respond. Chairs were sliding away from where Harry stood, piling against the walls as if trying to escape the storm waiting to be unleashed.

Draco watched Harry's eyes snap open, rendering him motionless as he waited for the … the… well, whatever the hell it was going to be, it would most definitely be unpleasant. No shield Draco had been taught would have any hope of withstanding whatever was about to happen; whatever that might be. Nothing to do but crouch, shield and hope to survive.

Harry saw the fear on Draco's face and recognized the survival instinct to curl up and present the smallest target possible, to attempt to protect the most fragile bits of the body while sacrificing the tougher parts to the pain about to descend. Harry saw Draco's body waiting for the agony and realized his friend, his first friend, was afraid of him. No, not afraid… terrified.

The realization snapped Harry back to his senses and the magic storm dissipated without causing further damage. What damage was done to their friendship was yet to be determined.

Harry walked to Draco, holding a hand toward him to help him from the floor.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry apologized. "I don't know what happened." Helping Draco from the floor, Harry asked, "Did I hurt you?"

Draco was surprisingly calm given what just occurred; perhaps it was shock? Checking his hands and face he responded, "Not a scratch."

Noticing Harry was still dressed only in his birthday suit, "Think you might want to put something on?"

Harry shook his head, "No, you need to see this. You need to see exactly what price I paid for your father's service to Voldemort."

The next thirty minutes were uncomfortable for them both. Some might think Harry's nudity was the main reason. It was not even a minor reason. Harry held out his right arm and started at the tip of his index finger. He labeled every scar, described every broken bone, and gave the approximate date and circumstances of each. Turning his arm as necessary, he proceeded up the arm to his chest before holding out his left arm and repeating the process. Harry then uprighted a chair from the mass against the wall and crossed his legs, right over left, showing the sole of his foot as he continued. He continued up the right leg to his torso before returning to the bottom of his left foot and repeating the process until he had listed and dated every injury on both legs. Harry stood and faced Draco.

Draco was physically ill. No dark wizard would subject a child to this. Children are too rare, too precious. Kidnap? Yes. Kill; if you must. But to torture a child in such a manner for such little reason? No. His thoughts were interrupted as Harry started labeling and dating each scar on his chest and abdomen.

When he finished, Harry turned around.

"I can't see those, so you will have to touch them. Touch each one and trace the length of it, from top to bottom and I will tell you how I got it."

Draco was lost to the necessity of completing this bizarre ritual. He stepped forward and starting at the top right he traced every scar one at a time and listened to the litany of dates, times, and 'sins' associated with each. He traced and listened until each was accounted for. Then he listened as Harry described the injuries which could not be seen; broken bones, beatings which had somehow healed without scarring.

Harry, lost in the catharsis of the moment, began listing the more serious injuries, the ones that left no visible scars but never healed. He spoke of every moment he tried to earn his aunt and uncle's love, then their approval, then their acceptance, before just hoping for their tolerance. He spoke of his 'normal' chores and then the chores assigned for punishment. The irony of some of those punishments drew a dry, mirthless chuckle from Harry.

"My favorite example of irony… was being punished for blood splatter on the walls and ceiling after Uncle Vernon whipped me with a belt for telling my teacher my name was 'Freak,' not Harry. I embarrassed him in public. That never ended well for me."

Harry walked away from Draco, toward the pile of clothes in the center of the room, strangely unmoved by the earlier eldritch tempest. He began clothing himself as though in his room, without embarrassment. Nudity was nothing after what Draco had seen.

Draco had no words for what he had experienced vicariously through Harry's tour of his history with the Dursleys.

"You should have been Gryffindor," Draco couldn't believe he said it and more so he couldn't believe he meant it with respect.

Harry turned, still smoothing the folds of his over-sized cast offs, raising an eyebrow in question.

Draco continued, "You had no friends. You should have been withdraw, quiet, sullen. Hufflepuff should never have been a choice. You were beaten for excelling at school, so hid your intelligence. There is no way your mental skills could have blossomed to their fullest living with your 'family'. So, Ravenclaw was out. If you were Slytherin material, the Dursleys would have met an unfortunate accident when you were old enough to arrange it. Instead you stayed there. You endured. My God, how you endured! Every day you woke and went through another day with those… 'people'… was a display of courage beyond measure. And you are still, basically, a good person! How? How can you be," Draco waves his hand up and down Harry's body, "THIS when you went through THAT?"

Harry shrugged and grinned at confusing Draco so thoroughly. "Maybe I am a freak?" he said sardonically with a little quirk of his eyebrow.

Draco shook his head violently, shaking the last half hour loose before addressing Harry, "I still need to talk to you. After all this… I NEED to talk to you! Fortunately, it is Saturday and still an hour until breakfast. We won't be missed for hours yet."

Grabbing an overturned chair, he sat it up and sat upon it. "Have a seat Harry, this is going to take a while. Please listen to all of it before you storm out. Trust me. There are advantages to be had here."

Raising both eyebrows, Harry pulled his chair over and prepared to listen.

****************** Draco's Tale ********************

"Ok, let's start with some basics; this is going to get very complicated," Draco began.

"Most of the old families are known for something. Your roommate, Longbottom seems to be a genius with plants, but House Longbottom is known for spell creation. This means heir Longbottom will one day have access to some rather interesting spells the average witch or wizard will never even hear of. Everyone knows this." Draco paused for the inevitable comment.

"I didn't," Harry said as if on cue.

"No, you didn't. You should have, but someone hid your heritage from you. Allow me to rephrase that statement," Draco said in a lecturing tone. It was clear he had delivered extensive lectures to his private instructors as part of his own training. "Everyone raised in the magical world, who lives in Britain or has significant contacts inside Britain, knows which families are associated with what areas."

Draco paused again, waiting for the obvious question, but Harry remained silent.

Draco pressed on, "What everyone knows is a lie."

Draco paused again, but only got the now standard raised eyebrow. On Harry, this translated to "Oh Really? Tell me more."

With a smile Draco continued, "The lie is what the family wants the public and society at large to believe about their family. And, as always, the best lies have some truth in them. The Longbottom family has significant skill in spell creation and, to maintain the lie, in every generation or three a family member will specialize in spell creation. The last war hit all Houses hard. Many lines were ended. Many others have only the very young, our age, or the elderly. Again, House Longbottom is an excellent example."

Draco paused and waited, hoping Harry would see the advantage presented.

Recognizing the look, Harry considered the information Draco just presented. Where was the advantage to House Potter? Seconds drifted into minutes as Draco waited, before the lightbulb lit. Harry nodded to himself.

Watching Harry attempt to put the pieces together, Draco began to wonder if he expected too much of Harry. After all, Harry was new to all of this. But when Harry nodded his head, Draco dared hope Harry was up to the task.

"Well?" Draco asked.

"We have an opportunity," Harry replied.

"Well, of course! I wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise. Tell me something less obvious. What is the opportunity?" Draco huffed.

"With the lack of candidates to run the scam positions, we can determine what each House really does. They must continue to train the remaining family members to assure they do not lose generations of advantage in their specialty area," Harry summarized.

"Indeed," Draco agreed easily. "But even these observations must be tempered with caution, as it is assumed most Houses have at least three 'associations' going at any given time. There is the one they allow people to know, grudgingly. House allies will know this level, as will non-aligned Houses via espionage. Another 'association' lies beneath this, usually something dodgy, but not blatantly illegal. The purpose of the second layer?"

Harry thought for a moment before responding, "If one assumes there is more to be seen, they will dig until they find something, the juicier the better. Therefore, the second layer exists to give those who dig something to find."

"Exactly!" Draco crowed. "But most Houses will have at least one more layer, the layer they REALLY don't want anyone to find. For example, take House Weasley. What do you think their specialty is?"

Harry thought carefully. Everything with Draco was a test on some level and he never asked questions where the answer was obvious.

"Well," Harry began, "there are so many of them and so few children in most pureblood Houses, an obvious guess would be spells or items that improve the odds of getting pregnant and/or having healthy children. But, as I said, that is obvious. So, perhaps their secret is something that requires blood relatives?"

Draco smiled broadly and nodded. "As close as we can determine at this time, the Weasley's cover secret is fertility magics. Those are different from magics designed around sex, which appears to be House Weasley's second layer. Sex has been a major component of magic rituals since the beginning. Sex based rituals can be used to increase harvests, change the weather, and so on. Just juicy enough for someone digging to think maybe they have found The Truth. Instead, we believe they are a practicing blood coven, which would be their third layer 'secret'."

Harry made a gurgling sound followed by, "Uh… what?"

Draco's lazy smile indicated he understood and expected Harry's response.

"A Blood Coven is a group where all its members are closely related by blood. It does not mean they practice blood magics, although in their case we think they do. Blood magics are ridiculously powerful. So much so they are termed 'dark' by the Ministry. Being caught practicing blood magic will earn you a short stay in Azkaban and a hefty fine."

Harry looked confused, "If these rituals are so powerful, why are the Weasleys so poor? Surely there is some way to use this magic to increase wealth, even if it is only selling the effects of the rituals."

"And how would you keep it a secret then? Would you kill the person you sold it to? That would probably keep the secret, but would be bad for repeat business." Draco laughed. "Also, the Ministry keeps a blood magics detector. It is not very accurate, but will notify the Ministry if a blood magic ritual is used. So, each time they use their blood magics, they run the risk of being discovered. Our best guess on the last time they used their real magic for a major effect was about eleven years ago. Remember I told you there is a young Weasley girl? She was conceived shortly after your defeated The Dark Lord. What I did not make clear is, the Weasleys seem to have a curse on them to produce only male children. It has been that way as far back as our genealogy on them goes. Then suddenly, poof, a girl is born."

Harry pondered a moment, then spoke, "If their family magic could negate the curse, why didn't they do it before eleven years ago?"

Draco laughed, "And there is where your ignorance of the wizarding world is most obvious! If the curse had caused them to produce only GIRLS, they would have risked it almost immediately. But male children can inherit, continue the family name, and all the other things traditional families find important. You might have figured out by now, the Weasley Matriarch is a bit… well… let's just say she wears the trousers in that family. She wanted a daughter. I am certain Arthur put her off as long as he could; promising to try again after each son, hoping to get lucky and beat the curse. Best guess, after the sixth son Molly had enough and wanted her daughter. The night of Ginevra Weasley's likely conception, there was a powerful blood ritual detected. It was so powerful it destroyed the detector. Nine months later, a 'miracle' occurred and a daughter was born to Molly and Arthur Weasley."

Harry was hanging on every word, trying to evaluate the story and determine the gotcha moment. All fairy tales have a 'gotcha', right?

Draco nodded to the unasked question, "Yes, there was a price. With magic there is always a price. The little magics they teach us here have small prices. Do too much, you get tired, maybe sleep a little longer. Blood rituals require an offering, usually blood sometimes a lot more. The largest and most powerful rituals require lives to be sacrificed."

Draco reached over and gently closed Harry's open mouth.

"But if a sacrifice is needed, then what or who did the Weasleys sacrifice to end their curse?"

"An excellent question!" Draco agreed. "Our best guess? They sacrificed their ability to reproduce. Either Molly, Arthur, or both gave up their ability to have more kids. But they have seven, so I'm not sure how much of a sacrifice that was! In case it crossed your mind, no, we do not suspect them of engaging in human sacrifice."

Harry holds up his hand to prevent Draco continuing, "You keep speaking in the plural: 'we', 'our', etc. Why? Who is 'we'?"

Draco nods sadly, "Again, something you should know. "We" is House Malfoy. As the heir, I am given routine security briefings. It is required, so if my father were to meet an unexpected demise, I would be prepared to take my place as Head of House as seamlessly as possible. This is not something unique to my House. Almost all Houses practice something similar."

"Anyway," Draco waves his hand to prevent more questions, "all this is to underscore all Houses have secrets within secrets within ad infinitum. My House has a secret which I will share with you IF you swear to never reveal it to another." Draco paused and waited.

Harry mentally shrugged, 'in for a penny', and removed his wand, giving the oath with the associated light show, before putting it away again.

Draco nodded in acceptance. "I have never told anyone this. Those scars have earned you the right to know." Taking a deep breath Draco began, "The Weasleys are not the only House which has been cursed. It used to be 'the thing to do' if you had enough power and someone annoyed you enough. You would curse their bloodline. Most of the old families are cursed in one way or another. The worst are those which seem the most benign. House Longbottom's deeper secret? They are natural born leaders with the ability to blunt their pain responses. It makes them lethal on any battlefield. Their curse? They cannot lead. Vicious curse, that was! It was intended to neuter their House. Instead the Longbottoms discovered a loophole: as long as they serve another, they can lead in the name of the other."

Harry nodded, then asked, "But you strongly implied House Malfoy is cursed also. What is your curse?"

"The Ancient House of Malfoy is cursed to increase its power."

Harry looked confused, "That's it? Something you would want to do anyway? You have to gain MORE power?"

Draco smiled sadly and shook his head slowly, "Remember, the more seemingly benign, the nastier the curse. Think about it. Follow that line of reasoning to its logical end."

Harry sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, considering House Malfoy's 'curse'. 'Where is the catch? Why is this considered a curse?'

Suddenly Harry sat upright and his eyes snapped wide open, "It is a death sentence for your House! You can't always increase. There will be setbacks. Or if no setbacks, there will eventually be no more power to grab. Even if you acquire all the power in the world, then there is nowhere to get more. And by acquiring more power, you attract people who want to take it from you! You are so screwed!"

As if only just realizing what he said, Harry tried to apologize, "I am sorry for saying it that way. But that is right, isn't it? Your family is doomed… eventually."

Draco nodded, "Eventually. So, every generation tries to increase our power. My father thought The Dark Lord was the next big thing and serving him would gain House Malfoy more power. When you killed The Dark Lord, House Malfoy teetered on the brink of triggering the curse. My father worked constantly for years to correct our decline before that happened. Without The Dark Lord, he had to play to our House's 'surface ability'; politics. My father is an accomplished politician. He knows where the bodies are hidden, sometimes literally. With gold for bribes and threats to reveal secrets, he managed to stay out of prison and eventually move us back to a stable position in society. He is so subtle and vicious in playing The Game and politics is such a dirty game to start with, few consider looking for a secondary layer to our secrets."

Standing, Draco began to pace the room, "If all stayed as it is now, House Malfoy would continue. We have recovered our place in society. We have more power than we did when my father was my age. The curse will not trigger."

Draco stopped and turned to face Harry fully, "But we are talking about the fate of my House. Contingencies must be made in case the worst should occur."

Continuing his pacing, Draco began again, "My father began training me to be his successor almost immediately after The Dark Lord's fall: I was a toddler, like you. My entire life has been training for this. Politics, Economics, Assassination, Contracts, Intrigue… these were my bedtime stories, my first lessons. I was taught to read using contracts and legal documents. I have been beaten, tortured, and starved. The fate of my House will one day rest on my shoulders. My father had to know if I was strong enough to bear the burden or if he had to 'start over'."

Harry sat back in surprise and some horror, "That is cold blooded. They treated you like the Dursleys treated me!"

Draco smiled and it was an evil smile. "Yes, but it was needed. And there was a major difference between how I was treated and how you were abused. There was a doctor standing by to treat me immediately if needed. I bear no physical scars because of that. I also knew it was a training exercise, that it would end and I would receive aid. You didn't. My father has a heavy burden, but I know he loves me. He and my mother had terrible arguments over how I was trained. They both love me. I know this with the same certainty that I know water is wet. My father has also given me exact instructions on how to kill him should certain conditions occur. He knows I love him and fully expects me to fulfill my obligation to our House, should it be required. House Malfoy must survive."

Looking Harry straight in the eyes, Draco asked, "Do you now understand how and why my father was serving The Dark Lord?"

Harry sat stunned at the revelations of the inner workings of House Malfoy.

Draco prompted, "Harry? Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, "I thought my life sucked. I just have to live long enough to escape the Dursleys. For you, there is no escape, is there?"

Draco sighed, "Probably not. Most curses have a loophole. This has several, but we have never been desperate enough to use any of them. We always look for others with fewer risks. One day we may find one we are willing to use before the curse triggers. But, my parents love me. It gives me hope."

"But the curse is simple. You must increase power. Where are the loopholes in such simple statement?" Harry asked.

"Oh Harry", Draco laughed, "you have so much to learn about magic. The day, time, season, year, to name only a few, all affect the strength of magic; including curses. If we knew enough about when, how, where… we would have broken this long ago."

Harry nodded understandingly, "So, do I have a part to play in your plans to escape the curse?"

"Escape? Probably not. Avoiding triggering it? Absolutely. Just as I am my father's contingency plan, you are mine," Draco smirked.

"Ok, I know you want to increase my power base without it appearing I am 'dark' or 'light'. I assume you are the reason I now have eleven vassals to House Potter?"

Draco's smile broadened as he nodded happily.

"And how exactly did you manage to get eleven people to pledge themselves to my House?" Harry enquired carefully.

Draco shook his head suddenly, "Nope, can't tell you. What you don't know, you can deny knowing. Besides, I did not have a direct hand in it. That would be crude." Draco laughed. "Did you notice anything your new vassals have in common?"

"Oh, you mean that they are all first generation magicals? Yeah, that did cross my mind."

"Yes! Exactly! The older Houses consider the first generation witches and wizards to be worthless, so many have not understood the magnitude of what is occurring, yet. Houses with half-bloods and 'first generation' witches and wizards are certain to have noticed by now. They will be cautious until they know what you intend. But eventually everyone will notice. We must have you ready before they notice too much."

"Notice too much? You mean like my ring?" Harry holds up his hand to show the Head of House ring which had appeared on his finger when he accepted Hermione as his first vassal. "Speaking of, how did it appear? Why did it appear?"

"Yes, exactly like your ring." Draco grinned. "Your ring appeared because you are Head of House. I know, you were claiming to be Head of House, but when you accepted Hermione as a vassal you ACTED as Head of House. Magic recognized the ritual and your standing. It then 'balanced the scales' as they say. The Head of House must have a ring. You are the Head of House. You don't have your ring. It acquired and provided your ring, right out of your vault."

"Wait, hold up…" Harry raised his hand to stop Draco speaking, "You are saying Magic is alive and thinks for itself?" Harry looked somewhat disturbed by the concept.

Laughing, Draco waved his arm at the castle, "Maybe? Maybe not. We don't know! We know it is 'something'. Maybe it is no more sentient than a worm. Maybe it is a global super-intelligence and we are so far beneath it, it barely notices us. No one knows and, believe me, people have been trying to answer that one for a long time!"

"Ok, ignoring the question no one can answer, what do we do next? Regarding your grand plan that is," Harry wondered aloud.

"First, we continue to increase your power. You may not have noticed, but inside Hogwarts, House Potter has more effective manpower than any other House. You will continue to accept vassals from the first generation witches and wizards. Soon we will start confirming existing alliances Potter has with allied Houses and forming new alliances with others, always balancing dark and light. You must remain neutral in all this light/dark crap."

Draco gave Harry a very evil grin, "Oh, and there is one other thing…"

***** Later in the Hufflepuff common room****

Harry is juggling in the common room, as usual, but he is not performing. Usually he engages the crowd, tells jokes, changes patterns to fit the preferences of the observers. Today he is throwing the balls through a complex pattern no one has seen before, but seemingly without effort or concentration. His mind is definitely elsewhere.

Tonks liked Harry. He was a really fun kid to talk to and, if she admitted it to herself, to flirt with. She was pretty sure Harry was not interested in girls yet, which made some of the flirtation even more amusing as it flew over his head.

"Hey Harry!" Tonks called as she walked across the room to him.

"Harry!"

"HARRY!" Practically yelling in his face, she finally managed to get his attention. "What's up?"

Harry caught the balls as they descended, "Thinking. Have a lot on my mind," he said absently.

Tonks giggled and flipped her hair with one hand, "Harry, I know life can seem bigger than it is, but you're eleven. What can you possibly have on your mind that is that distracting?"

Harry looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Oh, hi Tonks," he said absently before turning toward the boy's dorm rooms entrance.

"Harry! Seriously, what's up? You know we'll help you if we can. That is what 'Puffs do!" She questioned earnestly.

"Don't know if you can help me" he said distantly as he pulled open the door and stepped through.

As he pulled the door closed behind him his last statement left the common room in shocked silence.

"I have to get married."

AN: I would love to blame my lack of recent updates on my muse abandoning me. Truth is the opposite. I have too many ideas, but they lack cohesiveness. I should also explain, I really LOVE reading HP fics. So much more than writing them. Because of that, I tend to get drawn into a fic and can't put it down until I finish it. And if I don't write some more before finding another, the cycle repeats!
So, I will share the titles of some of the fics that have distracted me from serving your AVDHP needs…
Harry Potter: Dark Memories… by Blueowl
On a Pale Horse… by Hyliian
To Fight the Coming Darkness… by jbern
Harry Potter and the Four Founders… by Darth Marrs
Lord of Caer Azkhaban… by Rorschack's Blot
Harry Potter – Three to Backstep… by Sinyk

Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Nope, still not JKR. Still don't own the HP-universe. Still making no money from this hobby. J But it is still fun!

AN: There is a POLL on my profile page where you can weigh in on the eventual betrothal/marriage/pairing for Harry. Please vote! (You can pick up to three, so feel free to take a lesser trod path.)
This chapter is shorter than most because I want to get feedback on the pairings before I continue.

Chapter 14

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

*abandoned classroom, continuation of Harry/Draco meeting and before he returned to the Hufflepuff common room in the last chapter*

Draco gave Harry a very evil grin, "Oh, and there is one other thing…"

Harry waited for the other shoe to drop. He was coming to learn there is always 'just one more thing'.

Still grinning Draco stage whispered, "You have to get married."

Whatever Draco expected a blank-faced Harry was not on the list.

"Didn't you hear me?" Draco asked. Poking Harry in the shoulder he repeated in a normal voice, "You have to get married."

Harry shrugged, "Yeah, I figured that with the whole 'your kids will be affected by your actions' speech you gave on the train. Marriage usually leads to kids. 'Heirs being desired; marriage is required.' As one of those pureblood lineages books said."

'Well,' Draco thought, 'this will be easier than I assumed.'

"Glad to see you ready to step up to your responsibilities so soon", Draco joked. "Now we just have to pick your wife."

"Pick my wife? You mean NOW?", Harry's eyes darted about the room, as if looking for an escape.

"Well, yes, unless you want to wait until all the good ones are under betrothal contracts. Merlin's balls, Harry, many of the best are under contract at birth! Fortunately for you, those tend to be in the darker pureblood families, so would not be acceptable for our plans for you." Draco watched Harry to see how he handled this latest incoming bludger.

Harry stilled as his mind raced. 'Marriage. Or… Betrothal. Betrothal sounds much better!'

"Betrothal sounds like a good first step," Harry grimaced, "Since it seems you have as much to gain and lose as I do, do you have someone in mind?"

Draco's grin became a full smile, "Of course I do Lord Potter. What are friends for?"

A sense of impending doom cast its shadow across Harry's soul as he responded, "Indeed."

"Okay," Draco exclaimed as he hops up from his chair and approaches the blackboard. Grabbing his book bag, he removed three scrolls and turned to the board. Unrolling the first scroll, Draco then tapped it with his wand, chanting "scribendo imitari." Words, drawings and family trees became visible on the board as Draco repeated the process with each scroll, before rolling them up neatly and replacing them in his bag.

"First we have to determine what type of woman you want in a wife. We are attempting to make you desirable to every faction. This is obviously impossible! So, instead, we try to pick someone who will offend the least number of factions." Draco paused to glance over his shoulder to see if Harry was following, then went back to waving at the board after Harry made the universal 'get on with it' hand wave.

"First, who is in the 'OH HELL NO' category. Males. While the magical world is a bit more forward thinking than the muggle world, it is not by much. Males may wed, but it still comes with a social stigma. But, most importantly, you are creating a House from whole cloth. Children are the reason for you to marry. So, Men … No. Next is the children of Death Eaters and supporters of Voldemort. I can help you there. I know those marked and those unmarked. We prefer not to wed you to someone who will turn you over to people still pissed at you for ending their party."

Pausing to look back at Harry, again Harry nodded at the obvious and waved him on.

Returning his attention to the board, Draco continued, "Then there are the 'Nice but No' category. I have a distant cousin in France, a Ms. Delacour. She is only three years older than you, brilliant, and quite easy on the eyes. However, she is part veela. Thus she is seen as 'less than human'. A merger of your House with hers would be politically beneficial, except for that. Because of that, she gets placed in the 'Nice but No' category."

Draco turned as Harry interrupted, "But if she is 'less than human' and 'Nice but No', AND your cousin… Don't you suffer by being related to her?" Harry grinned.

Draco assumed an imperial pose, looking down his nose at Harry. "She is a fourth cousin, twice removed… by marriage. Hardly worth mentioning." Draco sneered, before breaking into a smile. "But that is exactly the point. Some families will be less inclined to deal with you if you married someone with non-human heritage. The funny part is, since the magical world is so small, if you go back far enough, every family will have less than desirable members: Veela, goblins, elves, even trolls and giants, to list a few. Hagrid is probably part giant. Flitwick is openly part goblin. The list goes on."

Intending his remark as a joke, Harry found himself nodding as Draco explained.

"Another 'Nice but No' is Hermione. She is attractive enough, in a muggle sort of way, but the traditional Houses would not accept her. You are not in a position to go against Tradition and still achieve your goal; rebuilding House Potter.

Draco turned back to the board, waving at the names.

"We need to determine the age range you want in a bride. Now the rabble would say, 'I want a wife about my age'." Draco shrugged. "In an ideal world, that would be lovely. It would also be wonderful if we were born knowing everything we need to know. This is not an ideal world. The good news is, that greatly increases your possible eligible candidate pool."

Draco looked at Harry closely, making sure he was still mentally 'all there' and not zoning out in shock. Yep, Harry's eyes were tracking the family trees and names: thus his brain is still in gear!

Draco turned again to the board, "As you can see…"

Harry interrupted, "Wait a minute… the numbers following the names… Are those their ages?"

Draco nodded, "Yes. Since we are considering repopulating House Potter, we must consider only candidates who can bear children, obviously." He then waited for the obvious questions.

"But, some of those names are in their 40's! I'm ELEVEN!", Harry protested.

"Yes, but witches are able to bear children into their 60's. We age much slower than muggles. Again, proving we are the superior species." Draco's smug smile apparent.

"Okay, but … okay… the numbers are listed as years, then months: right?"

"Yes, your point?"

"My POINT? Fifth name down. Elizabeth Morgana Fawley. 0 years, 3 months. Or how about the 12th down? Epona Sirona Ollivander? (-) 0 years, 3 months. What the HELL? Does that mean she is not even BORN YET?" Harry shook his head in amazement.

"Well, yes." Draco replied. "As I told you earlier, many of the best matches are betrothed at birth. So, we should consider that. You are eleven. Having a wife 12 years younger than you is nothing."

"Okay, ignoring the fact she is a baby or UNBORN, how are you supposed to have children? Girls can't have children until they are in their mid to late teens, right?"

Smiling Draco explained, "Again, this is part of the planning stage. Do you plan to have children immediately? If so, then those two are obviously out. If your plans for children are immediate, then we have to pair you with a witch who can give you children immediately. In that case, we would look to witches at least sixteen. They should be mature enough by sixteen to carry an heir."

"So why even consider the babies?", Harry muttered.

"Because they are good matches. Don't worry about the 'consummating the marriage' thing. If you married an infant, you would be required to sleep with her on your wedding night. And by 'sleep with', I mean actually sleeping. The girl's parents would both be in the room and awake all night. At dawn, the girl's mother would take her home to continue raising her. You would have regular visitation, of course!"

"Oh goodie. I get visitation with my infant bride… I can buy her a pony for her sixth birthday / our sixth anniversary! A wife in name only for the first, what, sixteen years of my marriage? Why the hell would anyone agree to such a thing?" Harry almost yelled at Draco.

Draco face assumed the patient smile one usually reserves for explaining very simple facts to very young children. "Centuries ago, such marriages were not unusual. I think your problem is you don't understand marriage. There are several 'kinds' of marriage. There is the 'Oh, I am in LOVE and can't live without you' marriage of the low class. There is marriage for the purpose of legitimate children. And there is the marriage of power. You want power. Power can be achieved by advantageous marriages. These marriages are those involving children, usually." Draco shrugged, "There are always sick people who do things marginally legal because they can get away with it. We are not here to discuss them."

Pointing at the board again, Draco continued, "Epona Sirona Ollivander will be born into a cadet branch of the Ollivander line. Her blood is as pure as it gets. While they have their own wealth, titles, and property. Their branch is next in line to inherit the main Ollivander titles and fortune, should the main branch die without issue. Currently Garrick Ollivander is the Head of House Ollivander. He is without issue. Should he die without producing an heir, then Epona's line becomes ascendant. Marrying her would give you instant ties to the Sacred 28, a major political victory."

"But she is not even BORN yet! Won't the other Houses look down on me for marrying a baby?" Harry asked, clearly exasperated.

"Actually, it would raise your credibility among the traditional Houses. It would show you want to follow the old Traditions, which makes them happy Houses." Draco waved a shower of multicolored sparkles over Harry. "Happy Houses are easier to manipulate."

"Okay, so if I plan to have children in less than ten years, I can't choose the babies as a wife," Harry stood, placing his hand over his heart, "I hereby declare my intention to have children in less than ten years." After sitting again, he shook his head slowly, "The wizarding world is bonkers sometimes, you know that, right?"

Draco laughed, "Of course I know! The trick is to find ways to use their preconceptions against them. I didn't expect you to want to wait for children. You have to rebuild your House from scratch, so you should have several children before you are thirty. Even if that means taking a couple of concubines or even more than one wife."

"More than one wife? Oh, Hell No! That's nuts! And illegal! Thankfully", Harry muttered the last quietly.

"Actually, it is not. If you have more than one line to preserve, you are allowed to take a wife for each. Or you can combine the Houses, unless they each have seats on the Wizengamot. In that case, you are compelled to marry for each line, or if you prefer you can appoint someone else with the appropriate bloodline as the Head of House, thereby making it their problem. You only have the Potter line, so that is not an issue. However, if you should ever find you are Heir to another bloodline, DON'T step aside. Take the second wife, or third, or fifteenth! The idea at this point is to mix the Potter bloodline with many Houses with the hope your children will never face the problem you have now."

"Won't everyone hate me if I have more than one wife? Won't it be seen as, I don't know… greedy?" Harry asked.

"The people who count won't care. They will know exactly why you are doing it. The people who will care, don't count. So, there is no real problem. Oh, and before I forget, there are also line continuation 'marriages'. If a line has only heiresses and the line does not allow women to become Head of House, as some of the most Traditional Houses do, then the heiress would 'marry', but keep her name. She would live with you, or you with her, until she is with child. If the child is a son, your duty has been fulfilled. Although in some cases, the marriage may continue to produce children until 'an heir and a spare' are produced. The Heir to the line would be named, a regent appointed, and the line would continue, thus the name "line continuation" marriage."

Harry bangs his head on the table. "You have got to be kidding me. Marriage is not supposed to be THIS complicated!"

Smirking, Draco replied, "Harry, this IS the easy part. We have over a thousand years of Laws which are still on the books and any one of them is as legal as the day it was first passed, unless it has been specifically negated by a newer law. Trust me, there are all kinds of crazy laws still on the books! I am only giving you the highlights of laws that you can use to benefit your House."

Harry looks at Draco before gently banging his head on the desk again.

Draco took a harsher tone, "Harry, get over yourself. You are no longer Harry Potter. You are not an ordinary wizard going to Hogwarts for seven years before moving out into the world to make your mark. You have set yourself an incredible task. You plan to rebuild your House within your lifetime. I believe you can succeed. But most people would laugh at your for even considering it. And the laughter must be dealt with, harshly. You must always remind everyone you are Lord Potter. Never let them forget."

Draco smiled kindly at Harry's head thumping against the desk.

"It won't be as hard as you might think. Just as everyone will help you fake the things you don't know, they will also begin to help you maintain the perception that you ARE Lord Harry Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Within two years, you won't have to remind anyone. It will just be who you are and everyone will come to accept it without questions… eventually."

Raising his head and sitting up straight, Harry replied, "Okay. Where do we start?"

Draco waved at the board, "We still have to pick you a wife."

With a groan, Harry banged his head against the desk one last time before raising his head, "You realize I don't even like girls yet?"

Draco laughed, "Technicalities."

AN: The poll I posted has few responses.

I would really like some input before I just go off and pick pairings.

If you don't like answering polls, please leave your suggestion as a review.

Chapter 16: Chapter 16 Sugar and Spice pt 2

AN: I own nothing except my own ideas, which are admittedly unique. (some would call them weird.)

AN: Special thanks to everyone who voted in the polls, sent me PMs, and/or reviewed.  I learned much from the poll and there were some surprises, for me anyway. The top five did not include some I thought would be a given and did include some I thought had no chance. For those concerned the Potion Princess might be selected, I think we are safe on that count. J I have decided to make Luna an exception to my "lesser of the two" rule for blood status. Luna will be pureblood. So, this chapter will examine some of the candidates from the poll and give a last chance for voting in the poll.
The poll will officially close as the seventh month dies.

Chapter 15

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice, Part 2

Turning back to the chalk board, Draco began lining out all candidates under six years old.

Before he could begin lecturing again, Harry interrupted, "I thought we said no kids? Six years old is still five years younger than me. Even eight year olds are three years younger. That is WAY too young!"

Draco smirked, "You said you want to have children within ten years. In ten years, you will be twenty-one. To have the child before the ten-year mark you have to start at the nine-year mark or sooner. When you are twenty, today's eight year old girl will be a seventeen year old witch, which is old enough for your needs. In fact, today's seven year old girl will be a sixteen year old witch, again old enough. Yes, the names are young. So are you! You have not even hit puberty yet. Which is actually a good thing: You can think about your choices rationally, without the haze of 'oooo she is pretty' clouding your decisions."

Harry sighed as he stood and stretched. Looking around the dusty classroom, clearly unused for many years if the cobwebs in the corners were any indication, he realized he was hungry and they had missed breakfast.

"Draco, what are we going to do about breakfast? Are we skipping?" Going without meals was common for Harry, so he only asked to know what to expect.

"Hmmphf, now that you mention it, I could eat a bite. Dobby!"

Dobby appeared before Draco, cowering in his tea towel, asking "Yes, Young Master?"

"Bring us some breakfast. Coffee, tea, orange juice, toast, bacon, and some assorted fruits."

"Yes Young Master," Dobby disappeared immediately.

Food began appearing on the teacher's desk and within seconds it was host to a full breakfast.

"Orange juice?" Harry asked.

With a shrug, Draco replied, "The only reason to drink pumpkin juice is Tradition. Most of us never drink it again after we leave school. I prefer orange juice."

With a full plate and a cup of coffee, Harry sighed, "Ok, let's continue."

Smiling, holding toast in one hand and his juice in the other, Draco began gesturing at the board with his toast as he commented.

"Even removing the six and under candidates, we still have many to choose from."

Harry interrupted, "You lined out the younger candidates, but some are marked with a gold star. What is that about?"

"The gold asterisk indicates the candidate is currently under a betrothal contract. Before you ask, there are many ways to negate a betrothal contract, depending on the families involved. If the 'bride' is disfigured, for example. Or if the 'groom' undergoes a life event which would render him sterile. Or if the 'groom' dies. Any of these could potentially, even probably, negate the betrothal contract."

Harry nods, "But why are they on the list of candidates?"

Draco's mischievous grin does nothing to comfort Harry as he says, "Oh, you never know when something might happen. It is good to keep the options available."

Frowning Harry asked, "You aren't planning to 'arrange' for 'something' to happen, are you?"

Draco laughed, "Of course not! Not yet anyway." Laughing harder at Harry's worried expression, "Don't worry. I only gave you three examples. By far the most common and easiest is to simply buy the contract. Completely legal!"

Turning back to the board, Draco continued, "Let's look at some of the witches closer to your age. Here," waving his toast at a name, "Astoria Greengrass, she is nine, so when you are twenty she will be eighteen, legal even by muggle standards, although you will be married long before twenty. Astoria is a Greengrass, giving you a direct link to the Sacred Twenty-Eight. That link can be leveraged against anyone not in that group. She is rather pretty and has the proper poise and bearing to be your wife."

Turning back to Harry, "Your wife must be able to mingle with the political and social elite without giving offense. Ideally, she will be a second set of eyes and ears, gathering information from the distaff side of society, which you would not normally be privy to. Placing your House solidly among the elite Houses will increase the safety of all affiliated with your House."

Gesturing to the board with his crust of toast, "Astoria has a sister, Daphne, who is in our year. Again, easy on the eyes, properly trained in etiquette and the social graces, intelligent, and Slytherin. Thus, she is cunning and ambitious. An excellent combination for your wife."

"Also in our year and in Hufflepuff, Susan Bones. She is Heiress to the Bones family and is 'undesirable' for many traditional Houses due to a muggleborn maternal grandfather. However, her children will be considered pure, assuming she marries a pureblood."

"Wait a minute," Harry interrupted once again, "I am not Pureblood. My mother was muggleborn. So, by the standards you are advocating, NONE of these families will allow me to marry their daughters."

Draco just smiled and quirked an eyebrow, waiting.

"Which you already know. That you are continuing this 'pick your wife thing' indicates you have a way around that…," with a shrug, Harry admitted, "Sorry, I don't see it."

Nodding, Draco replies, "And I would have been surprised if you did, as it requires information you probably don't have. So, let's detour from picking your wife to explain why you are desirable to a pureblood as a husband. First, you are the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble family. That alone is enough to warrant a betrothal to a non-heir/ress. Second, you are a Potter. Your family name carries a lot of value, in and of itself. The Potters were a well-established House before the foundations for Hogwarts was laid. Third, the history of your House makes it even more desirable. It is impressive, by anyone's standards. Fourth, you are insanely rich. Enough money makes almost anything possible! Fifth, "

Harry shook his head rapidly, "No, I am not insanely rich. I am not even wealthy. I live in a middle class house in a middle class neighborhood. My relatives are always complaining about how much it costs to feed me. We are NOT rich, by any definition you would use."

"Harry, your 'relatives' are scum. No one would begrudge feeding a child, especially their own nephew. As to your money… well… seems it is time to have another impromptu history lesson."

Pushing food away from a corner of the desk, Draco began to lecture, "Harry, what is the most powerful force in the world?"

"Magic?" Harry guessed.

"No."

"Gravity?"

"Nope."

Taking a minute to consider, Harry finally guessed again, "Love?"

Harry was unprepared for Draco's reaction as he fell to the floor in a fetal position… laughing. Laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

"I will take that for a 'no'," Harry muttered.

Waiting for Draco to recover and resume the lesson, Harry grabbed some orange slices before sitting once more.

Draco, having mostly recovered, resumed his seat and continued, "No. It is definitely not Love. The most powerful force on this planet is… Compound Interest."

Noticing the blank look, Draco explained, "You know what a loan is, right?" Draco continued after see Harry nod, "Well the way you get people to loan you money is to agree to pay them back PLUS interest. Interest is a percentage of the money you borrow. So, if I agreed to loan you a thousand galleons at 1% interest, then you would repay one thousand and ten galleons. Understand?"

Harry nodded, "That makes sense."

"So the cost of borrowing a thousand galleons would be ten galleons. However, loans are rarely made in such a manner. Instead we have 'simple interest' and 'compound interest'. Simple interest is based on the principle ONLY. If instead of the previous example, I loaned you a thousand galleons at one percent simple interest per year. So if you take a year to repay me, you repay one thousand and ten galleons. If you take two years to repay me, you have to repay one thousand and twenty galleons. Simple interest is ONLY taken as a percentage of the original loan amount, in this case, one thousand galleons. You take the original loan amount, called the 'principle amount', and multiple it by the interest rate, multiplied by the number of interest terms; years, months, whatever, then you get the final amount you have to repay."

"Compound interest is decidedly more powerful. Instead of calculating the interest each interest term based on the principle loan amount, you calculate it by ADDING the unpaid interest to the principle and THEN take the interest of the total of the principle plus unpaid interest. So, to make the numbers a bit easier, if I loan you one hundred galleons at ten percent interest per year, and you did not have to repay a single knut for forty years, at which time you would repay the entire amount in one lump sum… in forty years you would owe me 4,526 galleons, less a few knuts."

Harry's eyes grew wide at the implications.

Smiling broadly, Draco responded, "I see you have the scent. Allow me to add a few more hints to the trail. Wizards live a LONG time. In general, we don't NEED to spend much money. So, with proper management, time, and principle, most old families are very wealthy. Most Traditional Houses live on a fraction of the INTEREST on their principle, rolling the rest into the principle to accumulate even more interest, thus always staying ahead of inflation." Waving his hand at Harry's imminent interruption, "There are many types of inflation and ways to counter or control them. It is beyond the scope of what we want to discuss today."

"Why are the Weasleys poor then? They are an old family," Harry interjected.

"Yes, why are they poor. That leads into my next topic. How to lose your wealth. Nothing I have said about interest is a secret. Nearly everyone is aware of it, even the Weasleys. But remember I said we don't NEED to spend much money. I didn't say we couldn't spend it anyway. In general, the most expensive thing any House can do is support a War. It is insanely expensive. Houses are bankrupted and driven to extinction by funding one side against another. No matter how much you give them, 'your side' will always want 'more'."

Drawing himself into a regal pose, as a general addressing his backers, "We could have easily defeated the enemy by now, if we had more funding."

Chuckling mirthlessly, "But this is almost never the case. If one side gets an influx of funding, the other side uses that very influx to convince its backers the war will be lost immediately without matching funds. Thus begins a race to the bottom, as both sides empty their vaults to help 'their side' win. Truth is, even the most draconian rule would never cost the Houses as much as they are spending to avoid it."

"THAT is how House Weasley lost its wealth, financing wars over the last two hundred years. Yes, it is Noble to fight for what you believe in, to fund what you believe in, but when have you paid enough? In the fight against The Dark Lord, your House paid in blood. It cost you your grandparents, on both sides, and both your parents, and as we have discovered today, years of abuse upon its Heir. Your debt to the 'greater good', if you ever had one, has been paid in full."

"So, how are you insanely wealthy?" Malfoy waited.

Nodding, Harry responded, "Exactly, how do we have any money? Surely if my parents fought Voldemort, they also would have emptied their vaults to support the fight."

Nodding, while tapping his finger on his chin, a serious expression upon his face, Draco responded, "Yes, yes, that does seem likely, doesn't it?"

Smiling, Draco continued, "But that leaves out one rather significant point. Your paternal grandfather was a financial genius. He understood money; how to acquire and how to lose it. His will made it impossible to empty the vaults for any reason. In fact, because he feared your father, his son, had "his head up Albus Dumbledore's ass" (his words, not mine!) his will only allowed one half of the yearly interest to be spent by your parents, with the rest being rolled back into principle. Apparently, it was his hope the war would end before his son died and thus the Potter vaults would be safe when you became Head. He was mistaken."

Harry nodded sadly as he considered all the war had cost his House.

"However, remember I said your grandfather was a genius? Well, he was also insane. Not in a 'permanent resident of the long-term care at St. Mungo's' insane, but insane in the genius way of insanity. He saw things no one would ever think of as 'obvious'. And THAT is why you are now insanely wealthy."

Pausing to wet his parched throat, Draco waited for any questions. Harry did not disappoint.

"What did he do?" Harry asked with a frown.

Grinning somewhat manically, Draco answered with a laugh, "Something no other Pureblood would have ever considered. Upon his death, his will gave control of the Potter accounts to 'the goblin family or clan who can obtain the most aggressive growth. That family is to receive 25% of said growth as compensation for their efforts.'"

Shaking his head in faked disbelief, "Your grandfather started a goblin war. Not with wizards, but among themselves. To execute the will properly, that statement had to be made to all the goblins in the world. The chiefs of the various families and clans knew what was going to happen. I wonder if your grandfather knew?" Shrugging, "No matter, Chiefs of groups with no hope of winning, watched from the sidelines. Small families likewise stayed out of it, knowing they would die to no purpose. Since the will stated 'clan or family', singular, alliances were not allowed. When the directors, chiefs, and assorted leaders of the goblins had narrowed the selection to four groups, based on their past performance and current assets and strength, they told the four groups they could enter the pit for the right to control the Potter assets. To encourage the groups to come to a peaceful compromise, they declared the assets of the losing groups would go to the winner. One group declined to continue. The other three groups fought in the pit for two months, hundreds died before a winner was declared."

"That group, and no one will confirm the name of the group, has been controlling the investments of the Potter accounts since your grandfather's death. There are rumors of hostile takeovers, mergers, assassination, blackmail, extortion, basically… if it can be used to increase profits in anyway, this group has and will continue to do it. All to improve your wealth. And how much of that money have you spent in the last ten years? Not a knut. Thus, the power of compound interest, and a goblin clan with no inhibitions on how they make money, have made you… insanely wealthy."

"Do you understand now?" Draco smirked.

Harry looked glassy eyed as he asked, "Is that legal?"

Laughing, "No, it is not legal. Not even a tiny bit. But you know what else it is not?"

Harry shook his head.

"Provable! There is no paper trail to lead to anything illegal. There have been investigations by the Ministry and by the muggle authorities. Nowhere is there even a hint of a trail leading back to you. Personally, I think I may take a page out of your grandfather's playbook and hire a goblin accounting team to do the same for House Malfoy, once I become Head. Of course, I could never tell anyone. The scandal would make me a social pariah. But I would be a rich social pariah, so… it may well be worth the risk."

Harry nodded numbly, in shock at the enormity of the information Draco had provided.

"Do you know what we call the children of squibs?"

Harry sighed, "No, but I am certain it is not nice."

"No, it isn't. We call them squibs. And we call their children squibs, ad nausea. But you know what we DON'T call them?"

Harry shook his head once more.

"Muggles or Muggleborn! And if you don't have a muggle or muggleborn in your genealogy, you are considered a pureblood!"

"So, do you now understand why you are desirable as a husband even with a muggle born mother?" Draco waited for the response.

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

Grinning broadly once more, Draco dropped the next bombshell, "Besides, your mother was not a muggleborn. She was the result of a long line of squibs." Draco smirked.

"WHAT? How can you know that?" Harry exclaimed.

Tutting at him, Draco explained, "Harry, how are purebloods determined? By family genealogies. Your mother was muggleborn. Her parents were muggles. But you know how to tell a squib from a muggle in a genealogy chart? By tracing the squib back to a magical ancestor. I guarantee I can provide a genealogy for your mother that will withstand the most intense scrutiny, proving she is descended from a long line of squibs."

"How can you possibly do that? You can't change who my mother's parents were." Harry snorted.

"True, but I can change the perception of who they were. And since they are dead, they can't be tested. The same goes for their parents and their parents and their parents, etc. Basically, we are going to buy a pureblood heritage for your mother." Draco hopped off the desk, clapping his hands, "So, are we ready to continue looking through the likely Ladies for House Potter?"

Harry placed his head gently on the desktop before moaning, "Yes".

"Excellent! Let's talk about some slightly older Ladies. Let's start with Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black…"

AN: Remember, the poll will close Midnight July 31st.

AN: It was brought to my attention that I did not include a "no pairing" option in my poll. So, whether you have or have not voted, you may PM me saying you want "NO Pairing", if that is your desire and I will count those votes as if they were an included option. Thanks to everyone for reading, fav'ing, following, and reviewing. It is greatly appreciated!

Chapter 17: Sugar and Spice, concluded

Disclaimer: Nope, just checked. My gonads are external. Ergo, I am not Rowling.

AN: Poll results. In the question of who should Harry marry, the top five responses are:
Luna Lovegood, Daphne Greengrass, Nymphadora Tonks, Susan Bones, and (surprise!) Bellatrix LeStrange. When I added the PMs and Review votes, Astoria Greengrass became tied with Bellatrix.
So, although I am NOT restricting myself to those candidates, they are high on the most likely list.
Some worried about Ginny Weasley, but of 216 votes, she received 2. I think Fanfiction has ruined the Ginny/Harry ship, mostly because the idea she potioned him is too credible to discount.
I enjoy the Harry/Hermione ship and Herms did come in 8th, that ship has been done too many times and far too well for me to pretend to challenge it. Robst has some of my favorites for the H/Hr ship.
If "original character with little screen time" or "original character peripheral to the story line" had been chosen, Harry would have married an OC child/baby and it would have stayed in the background. Kind of glad that did not win! Would have been interesting to write, but very difficult to keep it credible.
I am disappointed Pansy did not do better. I read a fan fic, Shades of Grey, in which Pansy gained more depth than usually provided to her. It was quite enjoyable.

Chapter 16

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice, concluded

Harry was speechless. Bellatrix was the most devoted of Voldemort's followers and, rumor has it, insane.

Waving his hands rapidly while shaking his head in negation, "You said we would avoid the children of Death Eaters. Bellatrix IS a Death Eater! The Dark Lord's most fanatical, according to "The Rise and Fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". You said we would not consider anyone who would turn me over to Death Eaters. Now you want me to actually MARRY one? What the Hell, Draco?"

Draco savored the moment. It was so much fun rattling Harry's cage, in Harry's best interest of course. Smiling he explained, "Well, there are benefits to Bellatrix. One, she is pureblood. She knows tradition, etiquette, and the social graces as well as any pureblood. After all, she is a Black. Any children from her would have an ironclad right to the Black line, and would probably become Heir."

Harry nodded with annoyance, "Yes, yes, I see that. But you are leaving out a few things. One, she is crazy. And not an 'aw it is so cute she thinks that way', but in a 'We the Jury, find the Defendant' sort of crazy. Two, she is a Death Eater, as I might have mentioned previously," Harry smirked, "and Three, she is in Azkaban for the rest of her life! Please tell me what benefits could possibly counter her negatives…" Harry sat back and waited, secure in the knowledge Draco could not possibly come up with an acceptable reason, nor even a 'well that doesn't totally suck' kind of reason.

Draco smirked, after all, it was his most practiced expression, second only to his sneer.

"Harry," Draco began, "there are very few circumstances which can't be manipulated to better benefit one's self or one's allies."

"In this case Bellatrix's advantages are many. Some include what you labeled as disadvantages. Crazy people can be manipulated, sometimes, into doing things you could never talk a sane person into doing. Her being in Azkaban prevents her from turning you over to her fellow Death Eaters and most importantly, did I mention she is in Azkaban for the rest of her life?"

"How is her being in Azkaban for the rest of her life a plus for me?" Harry asked, almost fearing the response as he began to think Draco might have a good answer.

"What are the top three reasons a marriage fails? One, Finances. Two, Religion. Three, too much familiarity. You are rich, so finances are a non-issue. Not living with her makes religion a non-issue, as you can go to any religious service you wish, or not go at all, again as you wish. She will be unable to successfully push for a given religion for the children. And three, she is in Azkaban… for life… after an Heir is born, you never need to see her again, unless you want to. As far as political marriages go, it is almost perfect!"

Harry sighed heavily as he allowed his head to fall to the desk again. "The way you say these things, they almost sound rational. But we know they are not…"

"Reason is over-rated," Draco smiled.

"Surely there are other options," Harry whined piteously.

"Of course!" Draco exclaimed, "Many options. Should I be forced to kill my father, my mother becomes an acceptable choice. She is the sister to Aunt Bellatrix, and thus a pureblood Black. However, she is not in Azkaban, would be difficult to manipulate, and would likely end up controlling you and your wealth in short order. Andromeda Tonks, nee Black would also be acceptable due to the bloodline, but she was disowned by The Black, thus her children could not become Heirs to the Black family. Although that would not prevent them becoming Heir to Potter."

Harry's head snapped from the desk as he asked, "Tonks, as in Nymphadora Tonks?"

Draco nodded, "Yes, Andromeda is her mother, thus Nymphadora is my first cousin."

Harry sat up straight, shaking his head as if to clear it of cobwebs. "So, Andromeda is the MOTHER of the SEVENTH year 'puff who has been flirting with me." Harry's face was blank as he considered this.

Draco nodded again, "Yes. As I mentioned, she is a pureblood Black, even disinherited her bloodline is considered superior to any non-pureblood. While I have no contact with a disgraced member of the family, I am led to believe she is a good person. Her upbringing would give her all the poise and grace you would need in a wife. And while she would likely manipulate you to some extent, her morals would prevent her doing it to your detriment; unlike my mother."

"Okay…", Harry stammered, "talking about marrying your mother is just creepy! Let's leave her as an absolute last resort… please?" Harry ended with a whine.

Draco laughed, "Of course! After all, she is not even potentially available until after my father's passing, which I hope to be a great many years from now. Andromeda is likewise married, but as the saying goes, 'things happen'."

Harry's face lit up as he exclaimed, "Right and Bellatrix is married to Lestrange! So she can't be considered either!" A deep sigh escaped Harry as he found the escape from that particular marriage hell.

Draco smirked. (Harry was really starting to dislike that expression.) "You would think so, wouldn't you? And it is true, as far as it goes. However, the Lord Black could annul that marriage for cause, as both spouses are in Azkaban. Also, Azkaban is not a safe place to house prisoners. Things happen. Aunt Bella's husband could meet with an accident any day. Dementors are foul things…" Draco allowed his voice to trail off, letting Harry consider the thought more carefully.

"So, you could arrange for Bellatrix's husband to have an accident?" Harry considered. Another Death Eater gone to join his master. The thought did not disturb him as much as he thought it should and the fact it was not more disturbing was actually more disturbing than the original thought.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Draco soothed, "I would never be so gauche as to arrange such a thing."

"But if someone happened to think they might curry favor with you if 'something happened', then your hands would be clean, the problem would be solved, and you would acquire a bit of black mail on the person who thought he was helping you," Harry admitted.

"Well, I would not be one to turn down an unasked favor or a bit of future leverage. You know that by now."

"Yes," Harry admitted, "I am beginning to figure that out."

"Excellent!" Draco applauded. "Compared to the politics a Head of House must manipulate effortlessly, this would be child's play."

"Draco, we are children." Harry lamented.

"Exactly! Which is why we are doing this now." Draco's smile would not be out of place on an angel, it was so bright and disarming; yet another weapon in his arsenal.

"Okay, we have covered babies and older women. Including your mother," Harry shivered in the oak desk as that thought played merry hell with his imagination. "Can we talk about some girls closer to my age? You know… like… MY age?"

Draco snorted before continuing, "Of course Harry."

Draco's planned to introduce the concept of the very young and much older to get Harry used to the what should be considered in choosing a wife, knowing girls his own age would look much more attractive when compared to the previous examples. A subtle bit of manipulation, but it was in Harry's best interest and would help them both achieve their long-term goals more efficiently.

"We have already mentioned Ms. Greengrass, a Slytherin in our year. She is an exceptional candidate. She is currently betrothed to a young man who will take her name, thus continuing the Greengrass line. But" Draco waited expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah, 'things happen'. I got it," snarked Harry.

"Exactly. Glad to see you are getting the hang of it."

"In addition to Ms. Greengrass and her younger sister Astoria, among the suitable matches are Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood, and Nymphadora Tonks. Ms. Tonks would be better as a mistress or concubine, since her father is a mudblood." Noticing Harry's snarl of displeasure, "My mistake, since her father is a first-generation wizard. Better?" Draco apologized half-heartedly.

At Harry's sharp nod, Draco continued, "Ms. Tonks has a highly desirable trait, as she is a metamorphmagus. The easiest way would be to find a genealogy which would pronounce her pureblood." At Harry's raised eyebrow Draco nodded, "Yes, it is done far more than anyone will ever admit. The problem is her parents are still alive, so a rumor Andromeda was unfaithful would be met with forceful denials which would likely include a paternity test. As 'Ted' is still alive, proving his paternity would be child's play, thus an implausible solution."

Harry pondered, "But what if Ted really is NOT Tonk's father? I heard somewhere that a lot of people do not have the father they think they do. There is a chance she is one of them."

"Excellent thinking! That is indeed possible, although we should not put too much weight to the theory until after we have determined if it is true. But I like the way you are thinking. Very Slytherin! But, for the moment we will place her in the 'Nice but No' category with Hermione and Fleur."

Draco looked at the diagrams on the board, waving to 'Susan Bones', "Ms. Bones is the Bones Heiress. It is an old and well-respected family, and well-propertied. Ms. Bones will likely choose for a line continuation marriage, keeping her name and birthing a male Heir to the Bones line. This does not help you beget a Potter Heir, but does spread your bloodline into the Bones line. If they were not in danger of becoming extinct, that would be reason enough. However, her Aunt is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Not quite the political angle we have been seeking, but a solid mark in favor of the match."

Harry nodded before speaking, "It sounds like most of the possible matches are the last of their line and would prefer a line continuation marriage."

Draco nodded sadly, "The last century has been hard on the magical world. The Dark Lord and Grindlewald get all the attention, and they are the largest single factors, but there are so many other smaller factors which get little to no attention. The summation of all these factors has dropped the birth rate to unsustainable levels. Most couples are only having one child. In a generation, almost half the current Houses will either be extinct or passed to bloodlines with the most tenuous of claim. As a group, the magical world is dying. Without the mud… first generation magicals, we would be gone even sooner. Eventually, when we are older, we will need to address this. But not today."

Harry paled under the enormity of Draco's statement. His own House was almost gone, residing in only himself. Many Houses were now dead. More Houses were dead in all but name. Reviving the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter was going to be much harder than he had ever imagined.

"Please," Harry whimpered, "tell me you have a plan."

Draco's small smile confirmed he did. "Yes, but I can't tell you. I am working on something, but until you can guard your thoughts against those who would violate your privacy, I can't tell you."

"Can you help me guard my thoughts?"

Draco paused, considering options, "Yes and no. Yes, I could help you develop occlumency barriers, but it is a multi-year process. By the time you graduate Hogwarts, you would be adequate to hold off all but the most powerful legilimencers," Noticing Harry's confused look, "Occlumency is the art of defending your thoughts. Legilimency is the art of invading the thoughts of another."

Draco turned and paced as he scrambled for a solution. There was no way Dumbledore would go seven years without entering Harry's mind. Draco snorted, he would be surprised if the Headmaster had not done so already!

Turning back to Harry, "I have an easy solution, but like all easy solutions, there are some drawbacks. Some rather serious drawbacks. The price for this particular solution is, you will never be able to learn legilimency. Never. The advantage is, your mind will become impenetrable. No one will be able to read your mind… ever. Also, the method is … uncomfortable. But if you want, I can make it happen… I think…"

Harry considered this. Not being able to keep secrets would make re-establishing his House almost impossible. He would willingly endure pain if it helped him regain his House.

Harry nodded, "If you can make it happen, I want it."

"Very well," Draco nodded. "It may take me some time, but I will get it as quickly as I can. Until then, avoid looking any of the teachers in the eye. I know Dumbledore and Professor Snape are both legilimencers. There may be others in the school I don't know about."

"As an aside," Draco continued, "we have both been using common language during this meeting. You can do that with those you trust implicitly, meaning almost no one. Outside of those circumstances, you should avoid contractions; can't, won't, etc. Removing them from your vocabulary will increase the distance between you and those who are not Heads of House. You must distance yourself from the common wizard in every way you can. This will help cement your status as Lord Potter instead of Mr. Potter."

"Back to the original topic, choosing your wife, there is one more I wish to mention; Luna Lovegood. She is a year younger, thus will start Hogwarts next year. Their family is another which outspent its income, reduced to relative poverty, although still well off by Weasley standards. Her mother died a few years back and it devastated the girl and her father. He buries himself in his work, if you can call chasing imaginary animals work, and she … well… she is… different. You know how Bellatrix is described as scary dangerous insane? Luna could be described as gentle, innocent, and harmless insane. Her mother's death and her father's lack of support caused her to withdraw. She lives in her own world, almost literally. But she is beautiful, has a lovely voice, loves to dance. Her family would surely accept a dowry to fund their next few decades of creature searches, especially if you promised any non-heirs could take the Lovegood name to preserve the House. However, her drawbacks are many. She would be unfit for the social circles you would need to navigate. There is literally no telling what she will say next. She has a grace and elegance that is uncanny, but completely undirected in proper social graces. And she is intelligent with a capital I. Imagine Granger level intelligence, but without any concept that some things should not be considered. She is amazing, making her departure from reality even more tragic."

Harry stared wide-eyed at Draco's almost passionate description of Luna Lovegood, who until now was just a name on the board.

"How do you know so much about her?" Harry queried.

"Well, I guess I can tell you since this is still covered under your previous oath. I was once to be betrothed to Luna on my tenth birthday. Everything was proceeding according to schedule. We had met many times, taken walks together, even danced together. I was looking forward to our betrothal with more than Duty in my mind. Then her mother died and my Luna died too. Her body was still there. She still spoke with me, but the connection we had was gone. I wanted to proceed with the betrothal, but my father forbade it. It is the only time I have ever drawn a wand on my Father. I cast the most powerful offensive spell I knew, a stinging jinx, and he allowed it to hit him. He then proceeded to teach me why my temper must always be contained, especially when it is hard to do so. A lesson I will never forget."

"I'm sorry," Harry stammered.

"Don't be. Life is cruel. Learn that lesson and little will surprise you."

Harry nodded, not wanting to intrude upon Draco's thoughts further.

"Back to topic. Of the witches we have discussed, I suggest Daphne as the very best choice. Her family masquerades as neutral, but they are darker than they want anyone to know, but they never support Dark Lords, including The Dark Lord. The appearance of neutral will satisfy everyone. The Dark side will see you are moving closer to them than they ever expected. The Traditionalist will be happy to see you bringing Potter into its traditional role. The Light will accept a neutral marriage without over much concern. Strangely, you will find the most resistance from the neutral Houses, as they know House Greengrass is dark gray at best. She has a sister, so should be willing to take your name and let her sister continue the Greengrass line. They seem to dabble in politics, unless you know what to look for. House Greengrass controls almost a third of the Wizengamot without appearing to control any. There is a reason they are all Slytherin."

"Second choice, I suggest Luna. Her drawbacks will require you to take a second wife, consort, concubine, or mistress to play the part of host and social butterfly. Luna will never be suited to social circles. She has a disturbing habit of telling the truth, and that can't be allowed. Still, I believe she would make you very happy."

"Third choice is Aunt Bellatrix, for the reasons we have already discussed. Her environment would make it easy to control her. As your wife, you could push for her to get better accommodations, healthcare, nutrition, etc. You could even give her a complete bedroom with ensuite, as long as you didn't try to remove her from Azkaban Fudge would be quite agreeable, as long as sufficient gold passed his palm."

"But first," Draco grinned.

Harry was learning to feel uneasy when he saw that grin.

"But first, we must find a way to let people know you are 'on the hunt' without just standing up and announcing it. That would be tres gauche."

Harry thought Draco looked like he enjoyed plotting way too much.

*Breakfast in the great hall, the Monday morning after the Tonks/Harry common room 'I have to get married' scene*

As normal, the noise levels were highest shortly before classes start. Late risers trying to grab a quick bite to start the day. Early risers catching up on the latest gossip, cross checking homework answers, and making the general din nearly deafening. Just another normal breakfast.

Owls had delivered the papers and letters from home. All had been read, discussed, gossiped about, and put away.

Just as students were starting to leave the great hall for class, a wave of silence moved across the hall. Nudged by their fellows, those who had not noticed were pointed to the ceiling where one of the largest owls anyone had ever seen circled the ceiling. A minute later the owl dived to land with a great backwash of wings and air, on the table in front of Lord Potter. Holding for an ornate scroll in its claw, every pureblood stopped breathing as they watched Harry Potter accept a VERY Traditional betrothal scroll from the owl. Ms. Bones handed the owl a plate of bacon, it was a very large owl, but the owl looked upon the plate with condescension before ruffling its feathers and taking flight. Apparently, bacon was beneath it.

Harry examined the scroll carefully without opening it, then with a theatrical sigh exclaimed, "C'est le lundi. J'ai dit vendredi prochain." Looking one last time at the scroll, Harry placed it back on the table, as he lifted his hand he chanted, "Brûle en enfer", then walked away as the scroll burned to ash, leaving nothing but the central rod and ornate end caps.

"POTTER!"

Only one source for his name in that tone, Snape.

"Yes, professor?" Harry asked mildly as he stopped and turned.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff and a week of detention with me for endangering your fellow students." Professor Snape snapped.

Harry looked at Dumbledore.

Professor Sprout looked at the Headmaster.

Headmaster Dumbledore pretended to be oblivious.

"Lord Potter will be serving his detention with his Head of House." Professor Sprout said in a calm voice as she rose from the table to face Snape.

"You can't do that!" Snape snapped again.

"You would be amazed what I can and can't do, given the desire." The Head of Hufflepuff said mischievously.

"Headmaster!" Snape… well… you get the idea…

"Pomona," Dumbledore tried for his 'let's be reasonable voice'.

"Albus," Pomona snarked back, but not taking her eyes off Snape. She smiled softly as she noticed Filius moving to the side, whether to avoid her attack or to avoid hitting her if it came to wands, she still found it amusing. The wand Filius was palming seemed to suggest the latter, rather than the former.

"Before you move that wand any further, PROFESSOR Snape, I request you consider where your potions ingredients originate. While you are considering that, consider the expense of finding an alternate supplier." Professor Sprout said conversationally.

"Pomona", Dumbledore's voice rose, trying to get her attention.

"Albus, that is the second time you have called me. Is there something I can help you with?" The almost comedic tone was disrespectful, as she had intended.

"Professor, what do you think you are doing? You have interrupted another professor in the course of disciplining a student." Dumbledore said forcefully, trying to instill control, his of course, into the situation.

"I think I am saving Professor Snape's life." Pomona smiled as she winked at Flitwick

"You can not possibly think that child is any danger to a fully trained wizard!" Snape was definitely losing his cool.

"Oh, you never know. He did kill a Dark Lord that had you and the Headmaster running scared."

"Now, Pomona" Dumbledore tried once again.

"Headmaster, if you continue to use my given name, people will begin to talk."

Filius was fighting to maintain his composure as he saw the wide-eyed look Dumbledore gave the back of Professor Sprout's head.

"Besides," Pomona said, "I didn't mean I was saving him from Lord Potter. We all know how Snape feels about Lord Potter," she loved the look on Snape's face every time she said 'Lord Potter' "I am saving him from me. I will not sit back as Minerva does and watch this… teacher… abuse my puffs. Especially when the Headmaster and his Deputy witness the incident and refuse to intervene. So, I am. If you want a dead potions master, let him go to Snape for a detention. I will accompany Lord Potter to each and every detention and if he crosses the line, even once, you will need a new teacher. Are we clear?"

"Severus, Harry will be taking his detention with his head of house." The Headmaster said with finality.

"But…" Snape roared.

"DO NOT FORGET YOURSELF, PROFESSOR!" Dumbledore's voice did not increase in volume, but somehow its 'weight' grew against everyone until it was stifling. Here was a taste of true power, and it did not need a magazine.

Without another word, Professor Snape whirled, cape billowing as he left the great hall in a snit, slamming the doors shut behind him.

"Everyone, go to class. That includes you, Lord Potter," the Deputy Headmaster commanded the students.

Or rather… the remaining students.

Looking around, Harry noticed all the purebloods were gone.

AN: Thank you for the reviews and PMs. They definitely inspire me to write more. Seriously, THANK YOU!

AN: The French should translate as "This is Monday", "I said next Friday", and "Burn in Hell". Sadly I do not speak French and used Google translate. My high school French from many years ago told me the translations 'looked about right'. My idea was to do something the purebloods would likely recognize, which could be said openly, but would be simple to translate. (I assume the pureblood families would teach at least a basic understanding of French and Spanish, both being nearby and nice vacation destinations.

AN: The 'incantation' Harry used was not a spell. The scroll itself was spelled to burn when released. The 'incantation' was just misdirection and showmanship.

Chapter 18: I Did Warn You

AN: Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, or PM'd me. It really does help!

AN: The story so far has been laying out individual threads which will become the story. This chapter will start weaving them together into a somewhat general form which will be filled in gradually. The politics will begin to get twisted. If you think you know what is going on… if it seems obvious… you are probably wrong. ?
AN: I am planning to participate in the NaNoWriMo this year and even though it is not November yet, I present this offering as the first of my 50K words for the month, just one day early. But come on… Halloween and Harry Potter go together! I think it is worth the one-day fudge factor to get the significant date posted. ? I will post every time I get 5K words, so hoping for every 3 days for the month of Nov. Wish me luck!
AN: Last AN, I promise! :D I am trying for speed and consistency. Thus, there will be no one beta'ing this month's chapters. Grammar issues and typos are not only more likely but almost a certainty. Feel free to point out my mistakes and know I will appreciate the corrections, but I will not be making those corrections until after NaNoWriMo is over. Thanks for reading and I hope you like this faster pace!

Chapter 17

I did warn you…

Unknown Location

Severus Tobias Snape was having an awful day; at least, he thought he was. Being blind made determining day from night rather difficult. Feeling about the bed… bed?... yes, a bed and definitely not his own, he could feel a night table and his wand lay on it! Snape, like most wizards, would know his wand anywhere, even in a strange place, even blind.

Pulling his wand against his chest, "Lumos".

The Darkness did not recede.

Loudly sighing, "Nox", then returned his wand to the bedside table.

'What happened?' Snape wondered, trying to recall his last clear memory.

'Sprout interfered with me assigning detention to Potter. The Headmaster refused to support me. Potter got off, again. I left the great hall. I went to my quarters to remove the stench of children from my body… … … and that is the last I recall' Severus thought calmly.

Quickly reaching for his chest again, Snape confirmed he was NOT naked and sighed once more, in relief this time. Continuing to feel over his body, he confirmed he was wearing his normal teaching attire.

'Well, that is a blessing, small though it may be', Snape thought sarcastically.

He began flexing each joint, one after another, checking for pain and range of motion. Everything seemed fine; no unusual pains, no worrying lack of sensation.

Inhaling deeply, Snape examined the smells around him. His soap lingered on his skin, lavender and vanilla. The scent helped him sleep, but he washed it off each morning to preserve his reputation as a man with Spartan needs. The smell of damp was slight but ever-present. A hint of goose feathers, probably from his pillow or his mattress. Most surprisingly, a hint of lilac.

'Lilac?' he thought. 'I have searched every inch of the dungeons during my time here. Not only have I never seen any lilac growing here; there is also no place where lilacs could grow here. So, the lilac is probably from a flower arrangement or perhaps the perfume of one of my abductors. So, I was taken in the night, between my evening and morning showers. I am no hungrier than I would be when awaking normally, so I must have been taken last night. My abductors disrobed me of my sleeping garments, then took the time to cloth me properly for the day. Perhaps as a distraction to keep me guessing when I was taken? Regardless, rather considerate for kidnappers. Unless the kidnapper has a mental disorder, which adds a whole new branch to the 'bad' that could happen here.'

Feeling about, Snape determined he was lying upon a single bed placed against a stone wall. The stones held a hint of dampness to the touch. Whether that was true dampness or this mind misinterpreting the temperature variation, he was unable to confirm with certainty.

Using his hands to guide him, Snape slowly moved to a seating position on the edge of the bed, with his feet on the floor. Frowning, he moved his feet back and forth on the floor; the moving floor! Momentary dread clasped his heart as he immediately conjured in his mind images of the floor covered with writhing snakes: snakes he could not see! Instantly he calmed himself, 'No serpentine movement. No hissing. And most importantly, nothing has bitten me. So, not snakes.' Rolling his feet carefully on the floor, he could feel the stiff cylinders roll beneath him. Each cylinder apparently a foot in length and slim in diameter.

Reaching down carefully, Snape grasped one cylinder firmly before gasping aloud. It was his wand!

Sitting up and clasping his wand to his chest once more, Snape took a deep breath and a moment to think. 'I placed my wand on the nightstand. Perhaps it rolled off? No, I would have heard it, unless I am deaf too.'

Snape snapped his fingers, clearly hearing the sound through both ears.

'Not deaf then.'

Reaching for the bedside table, he gently felt on it expecting to find the wand was gone. But, he did find it.

Sitting quietly in the darkness, Snape attempted to explain to himself how he was holding two identical wands, both his; attempted, but failed.

Outside Hogwarts

'Well, that went better than expected,' Draco thought. 'Father brought everything I requested and some extra goodies. The next steps were a harder sell, but eventually, he accepted those too. And how much do I hate bargaining with him? A Hell of a Lot! Since he congratulated me on a decent plot to strength House Malfoy, he is pushing me harder, treating me like the head of another House asking for favors. I understand this is just another step in preparing me to take over one day, but it is annoying as Hell!'

Stopping before the doors to Hogwarts, Draco schooled his face to his normal student mask of indifference before pushing one open. Entering the great hall, Draco surveyed the students gathered and smirked.

'If they only knew,' Draco thought, 'but they don't. They don't suspect. And by the time they truly understand, it will be too late.'

Nodding to Heir Greengrass, Draco approached the Slytherin table for a well-deserved dinner. Listening to the puerile plots which pass for subterfuge among his housemates is always good for amusement.

Headmaster's Office

Albus worried another lemon drop around his desk top before wandlessly popping it into his mouth. It was his seventh in twice as many minutes. He was worried, as usual. He was worried about Harry, well, Harry and Draco. Okay, he was worried about Draco's influence on Harry. An undefined problem is rarely solved. Albus was worried about Draco's impact on his own plans for Harry.

'Draco is supporting House Potter. What does he hope to gain? Lucius trained Draco from a very young age, according to Severus. Thus, Draco would not be putting this much effort into Harry without expecting benefits exceeding his investment.'

'Further, Draco is clearly behind the betrothal contracts. What a mess that is! How will I clean this up without making Harry view me as his enemy? But a family will prevent Harry from sacrificing himself willingly.'

Dumbledore smiled to himself, 'Or will it… If Harry sacrifices himself willingly, for his family and/or House… It will not be as effective as if he did so generically, but it will still be effective and even more so for those of his House.'

'Yes, I can work with that'

'So, how to go about this? I could encourage others to join or ally with House Potter, so the number of people protected by his sacrifice will be increased. That could work well.'

'Or… I could offer to tutor him privately. Transfiguration leading toward use in combat in his later years. Yes', Albus sported an evil grin,' yes, that could do nicely. I could dazzle him with combat transfiguration and then control his progress, directing him along paths of my choosing.'

Pulling parchment and quill from his desk, he quickly quilled a message to Professor Sprout to escort Harry to his office after dinner tomorrow.

With an annoyed growl, the Headmaster crumpled the parchment and started another, asking the Assistant Headmistress to do the honors of escorting Harry to his office.

"Elf", Dumbledore said softly, waiting for the pop of the house elf's arrival.

"Please deliver this to Minerva at dinner tomorrow eve," Albus said as he handed the sealed parchment to the elf.

After the elf popped out, Albus poured himself another shot of whiskey.

Smiling broadly, he sighed deeply as he leaned back in his chair and sipped his whiskey.

"Yes, this could work out better than the original plan."

Harry's room

Harry was annoyed and grateful, and he was annoyed at being grateful.

Draco had come through on his promise to help protect him from mind reading. But Harry had to choose the least annoying of the options available.

Draco had presented him with a runestone shaped like a small egg. That wasn't so bad, but the explanation that came with it was. Harry remembered the clandestine meeting clearly.

"Harry, I have several solutions for you, but this is the best all around."

Draco then pulled out the runestone egg, presenting it to Harry for inspection.

"This is a runestone. It is one of many stones I inherited when we absorbed a smaller House before the last war. Rune workings were their specialty and we gained access to their stock. Sadly, someone else knew or suspected their secret and the last members of that family were killed shortly after. Thus, the stones I now have are the only ones I am likely to ever have. Do you understand the significance of this gift?" Draco questioned.

At Harry's nod, Draco continued, "This stone can be used in many ways. If you hold it in your hand, you are instantly immune to all attempts to invade your mind. You also can't use any mind attacks on others. It creates an unbreakable wall between your mind and others. The drawback of holding it in your hand being, if it is not in your hand, you are just as vulnerable as you are now. You may also wear it as jewelry, a necklace being the easiest. As long as it is touching your skin, it is effective. Drawback? Jewelry can be taken from you, leaving you vulnerable again. Understand?"

Harry nodded again.

"A better way to use the stone is to swallow it." Draco paused to await the inevitable question.

"Swallow it? That seems a bit over the top, don't you think?" Harry asked as if on cue.

"Not at all. If you swallow it, it will remain in contact with your body constantly, even in your sleep. It can't be taken from you like jewelry, nor can someone wait until your hands are empty, as they could if you just held it. But, if they suspect what might be occurring, or think you have taken something to make you immune, they could attempt to 'flush' the potions out of your system and find the stone by happenstance. But, other than a case like that, you merely wait until your body eliminates it, clean it, and swallow it again. A near perfect mental defense!" Draco smiled enthusiastically.

"Wait, what?! I poop it out, then swallow it again?! That's gross!" Harry commented loudly.

"Well, I did say you CLEAN it before you swallow it," Draco grinned.

"And there is the last method of use. Much more effective, one-time use. The effects are permanent."

"That sounds more like it," Harry sighed, "Tell me about that."

Draco grinned, "Yeah, but you won't like it. We slice into your abdomen. Push the stone inside you, then leave it there and heal the cut. Takes five minutes, less maybe."

Harry grimaced as he considered.

Draco added glibly, "The advantage of this method is, it can never be taken from you. In a few months, it will dissolve into your body and become permanent. Your mind will always be protected! Of course, the same downside applies to this method as the others. If you are using the stone in any manner, your mind is completely impenetrable to all mind magics. Downside is… you can't USE any mind magics that affect anyone else. So here, hold it and see what you think."

Harry took the stone cautiously, holding it in his hand, then curling his fingers around it in a fist. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on himself and his surroundings.

"Something is missing," Harry whispered. "I feel like something is gone, but I don't know what."

"That is always a possibility. If you have some natural talent in legilimency, mind-reading, then what you are missing is the background noise of other's thoughts. Right now, that is no big deal, as you are not trained and would gain nothing useful by retaining it. But, if you wanted to learn to read minds in the future, you would not be able to use the stone at the same time."

Draco stopped for a moment and thought carefully before frowning.

"Harry, how are you doing on your political studies and head of house studies?" Draco asked gently.

Harry shrugged, "Better than I expected, especially since Halloween. I think I have reviewed enough of the material that I am able to find what I need quickly. In the beginning, it was kinda rough and much harder to understand."

Draco made a sound between a grunt and a laugh.

"Dammit," Draco muttered, "I forgot to consider that. Your ring, your head of house ring, it's talking to you, helping you."

"I think I would notice if my RING started talking to me." Harry countered crossly.

"Not that kind of talking. It is guiding you, subconsciously. I honestly forgot you were wearing it. Mistakes like can be very costly. So, bottom line, if you use the runestone you will lose the guidance from your ring. Your ability to study politics and law will return to your previous level. Is that something you are willing to give up?" Draco asked seriously.

"Um, no," Harry replied. "My studies are coming along swiftly and the more I learn the more I learn how badly I need to learn what I am learning. I am trying to make up a decade's lack of education as quickly as possible. Every time I say anything, I fear I am about to make a mistake! Small mistakes can cost me allies. Seemingly helpful behavior could lead to blood feuds. No. I must keep the ring's help if it is what is letting me learn so fast. Is there another option, other than just not looking anyone in the eyes, which also has political ramifications?"

"Yes," Draco said slowly, "but it is rather annoying and mildly painful in the beginning."

"Only mildly painful? I like this idea already!"

"Well, it is not as effective. But for casual attempts at mind-reading, it will stop it dead. To manage to read your mind, the items will have to be physically removed." Draco reached into another pocket, drawing forth a small rectangular box. Holding it carefully, he opened the box for Harry to inspect.

Within the box, on two small white hills, were two black dots, each perfectly centered on each hill.

"What are those?" Harry asked. "And where did you get them?"

"Where do you think I got them," Draco laughed, "My father, of course!"

Draco continued, "These are a prohibited magical item. Actually, they are muggle items which have been enchanted, which is illegal according to some. It is a technically grey area since it is a muggle item being enchanted for a wizard to use. They are called 'contact lenses'. Most muggle versions are completely clear and used to correct their defective eyesight. These have a shield only over the pupil, making them nearly invisible and doesn't change your eye color, which would be noticed."

Harry laughed, "Who would notice if my eye color changed just a little bit?"

Draco smirked back, "Almost every witch in the castle. Green eyes are not common and yours have been described as 'dreamy' more times than I wish to recall." Draco rolled his eyes at the thought.

"Still, the real magic is in the black spot. It allows light to enter your eye, but not magic. Magic will be reflected, usually away from you and the caster, but if you are lucky, right back at the bastard trying to penetrate your mind." Draco's mirth was clear.

"And I could still use my ring and eventually learn the mind arts if I choose?" Harry asked excitedly.

"The ring? Absolutely. Occlumency? That's how you organize and defend your mind. Yes. Legilimency? Not without taking the lenses off. There is a special spell for that. Attempting to remove them without the spell would hurt you badly and leave you blind until you were healed."

"Let's do it!" Harry replied with enthusiasm.

That was twelve hours ago. The lenses were now fused onto his eyes and would never shift. Harry was most annoyed the contacts did nothing to improve his eyesight, requiring him to continue wearing his glasses.

In the beginning, it felt like he had sand in his eyes and he wanted to rub them as his eyes watered. Draco had told him that would happen and for the first hour he was physically tied to a chair to prevent him rubbing his eyes. An hour is an awfully long time to have sand in your eyes! Slowly the sensation died to a mild itching and now it was just the memory of the itching that made him want to rub his eyes.

But, it was worth it. Harry now had a reasonable level of defense against mindreading and could keep his secrets from those who would steal them. Better, it wouldn't be obvious he was attempting to hide secrets by never meeting anyone's eyes.

Library

Hermione sighed.

Sitting in the furthest corner of the school library, with her back to the corner, she was surrounded by scrolls with betrothal offers for Harry. After Harry had opened a scroll and was greeted by sheer lace panties falling in his lap, he decided to ask Hermione to open and sort the offers.

He had given her gross categories and allowed her to further refine the groups into subgroups as she saw fit.

Unborn, Under-Six, and Over-Sixty did not need subcategories. Just… ewwwww… No!
Six to Fourteen would eventually have several subcategories.
Fourteen to Twenty was easily the largest grouping and would have to be subdivided several more times before she was finished.
And Twenty to Thirty-Five was where the most lingerie had been included, many lightly scented with floral scents. Hermione was certain one was scented with … bacon. 'Well, the way to a man's heart, I suppose.'
Thirty-Five to Sixty seemed the most formal, in general, although there were some startling exceptions. She would ask, but unless Harry wanted to see them, THOSE wizarding pictures would never be seen by anyone, ever again!

Hermione was also tutoring Harry in History of Magic. He had decided early in the semester the class was almost worthless. "While History is extremely important, it consists of more than goblins, goblin rebellions, and goblin treaties," she clearly remembered him saying, "I need a general view of all History, so I will know what areas to consider for future planning," he said. So, Harry asked Hermione to present him, each evening, with the condensed version of the day's History notes AND to provide him the overview of a History topic of her choosing, as long as that choice had nothing to do with goblins.

So far, as the additional topic, Hermione picked a historical figure and gave a ten-minute review on why they are important to the wizarding world.

Harry was treating her like a social secretary. She kept up with his appointments, relationships with various Houses, vassals, and was creating a private dossier on several specific people he thought might be important to the future of House Potter.

But Hermione wanted so much more. She at least wanted to become a close friend. So, she had to find a way to become more valuable and less like a piece of furniture, less expendable; less replaceable.

Looking at the dozens of betrothal scrolls, Hermione had an idea.

Smiling to herself, humming a jaunty tune, she returned to categorizing the offers for her Lord.

Hufflepuff Girls' Dorm

Nymphadora Tonks was a confused young lady. She hadn't given any thought to Harry as a romantic interest, more of a little brother. That changed when the contracts began to appear. She began to think of Harry as the Lord he would become, instead of the boy he still is. The first scroll he received in the great hall, (the scroll he incinerated wandlessly!), was obviously from an Ancient or older House, and likely Noble. That buried any hopeful dreams she had for a future with Harry. She was neither Ancient or Noble, what with her mother being cast out from the House of Black. At best, she could offer the potential to bring metamorphmagi back into the Black bloodline. That would never get her a betrothal contract; concubine maybe… if she were really lucky.

'Lucky?' Tonks thought to herself, 'Since when did I start considering being a concubine to an Ancient and Noble House 'lucky'?'

Shaking her head to dislodge that train of thought, 'But at the appointed time, he received dozens of offers. The scroll endcaps indicated offers from across the spectrum of political Houses. So, maybe, there might still be a place for me?'

"Quit being a silly girl!" Tonks said aloud. "He will do what is best for his House. He will choose a family with political strength, solid bloodlines, and wealth. He will do what is right for his House and I am not it."

"Oh really?" a voice questioned from behind.

Nymphadora spun around to face the questioner, Susan Bones. "What are you doing here? I was having a private moment of reflection," Tonks huffed. She looked at Ms. Bones as though seeing her for the first time. She looked at her not as a fellow 'Puff, but as a potential competitor for Harry's heart. Susan was obviously cute and had the lines to grow into a beautiful woman. Her light and bouncy personality was infectious. And... she was Harry's age. In that moment, Nymphadora found she did not like Ms. Bones as much as she did before. It was an ugly thought, unworthy of herself and an unfair evaluation of Susan. Tonks felt just a bit of shame for her jealousy of the younger girl.

Susan smiled cheekily, "In that case, may I suggest your room instead of the corridor to the girl's rooms?"

Tonk's looked about quickly. Sure enough, she was in the corridor to the girl's rooms. Apparently, she had walked and talked for some time, since the last she recalled she was outside starting this mental conversation. Looking again, she noticed several doors cracked open. Eavesdropping is an art form for young women, not that Tonk's had made it difficult. The entire house would hear about her rantings by morning. Her face started to go Weasley red.

Susan reached out and touched Tonk's arm, "Don't fret. Every girl in the castle has been thinking the same thing. 'Am I good enough?' 'What could I offer?' 'Does he even know my name?' 'If not me, then who?' The rumor mill has ground little else since that first offer. The girls won't think less of you for voicing the same questions and doubts they have."

Throwing the little green monster from her heart, 'Dora pulled Susan to her and gave her a big hug. One of the perks of being a 'Puff, hugs came as naturally as smiling.

"Thanks, Susan. I would have worried about that all night."

Slytherin Common Room

Heiress Greengrass sat comfortably, listening to the hum of conversations in the common room. Most of those conversations revolved about wishing to be selected by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter.

Daphne smiled contentedly. She had read her father's offer and knew she would be in the top tier of offers to be considered by Potter.

"What do you think?" a female voice asked.

Without identifying the voice, Daphne replied, "I am sure you would make a lovely Lady Potter."

'Not that you have a chance in Hades of becoming her,' Daphne chuckled to herself.

Unknown Location

Professor Sprout awoke suddenly, discovering she was not in her bed. She was in A bed, but not HER bed. Looking about, it was obvious she was in a comfortably sized dungeon cell. A small pool to one side proving the damp was real and not just a chill in the air. The lighting was pleasant, with a hint of orange. Lilacs would grow nicely here, with the right soil of course and assuming this was the normal lighting.

Pomona sniffed her wrist and smiled. Lilac remained her favorite scent, as it had been since she was a girl.

Looking at her body, she could see she was clothed for the greenhouse. A glance about showed no plants. Nothing of any sort. Just stone, the puddle, a chamber pot, and dozens of eggs.

'Eggs?' she thought.

Rising from her bed she approached the eggs slowly. Upon closer inspection, each egg bore a rune, nearly invisible if you didn't know where to look. It was her method of identifying what each shell held. She normally kept several on her at any given time. Most were for self-defense, but the potential uses were limited only by one's imagination. Finding an egg with the wit-sharpening rune, she threw her head back, raised her hands and expertly cracked it over her mouth to allow the contents to fall in.

…

…

"What the bloody hell!" Sprout yelled. The egg did not contain the potion the rune described. Instead, it contained a raw egg! Out of habit, she swallowed the slimy mass, shuddering as it went down.

"If this is someone's idea of a joke, I assure you I am not amused!"

Or at least those were the things she attempted to say.

Very surprisingly, not a whisper left her mouth.

Clutching her hand over her mouth, she sat back on her bed to think on the problem and determine who she was going to kill when she determined the guilty party.

Potions Classroom

"You all have two weeks detention, starting tonight. Remain in the great hall after you finish your evening meal," Snape snapped.

As ways to begin a potions lesson, this was not to be recommended. The only thing that would make it worse would be-

"Professor Snape, Lord Potter has Quidditch practice on Wednesday evening," someone said.

Harry froze. Who said that? He couldn't turn to look without drawing even more attention, so he sat without moving, hoping against all precedent Professor Snape would ignore him in favor of haranguing whoever spoke.

Harry hoped… in vain.

"Mr. Potter, will you have difficulty attending your detentions?" Snape queried.

"Lord Potter, Professor. And no, I will explain it to the team. I am sure they will understand," Harry said with as little emotion as he could manage, desperately trying not to antagonize the most hate professor in the school.

"I am not so sure as you seem to be, LORD Potter. In fact, to assure we do not have scheduling issues where part of the team is in detention and part is on the field practicing…"

'Oh … this is going to be something awful…' Harry thought resignedly.

"All my classes will have detention for the next two weeks, every night in the great hall from eight until ten. I will be certain to tell the other classes who to thank for their unexpected good fortune." Snape smiled evilly.

"Oh, this is going to suck," thought Harry.

Greenhouse One

"Professor Snape assigned the whole school detention?" Professor Sprout remarked with an air of disbelief.

"The whole school? Not just a single class or year group?" She questioned again.

"Yes Professor," Susan Bones spoke up, "We didn't even do anything! We were in our seats, ready for class and he just swooped in as normal. He slammed the door, acted like he was mad about something… I think… sometimes it is hard to tell with him."

Pomona waved her hand in the universal 'yes, I understand, get on with the story' movement.

"Then he stalked to the front of the room, turned around with that billowy cloak thing, and gave us all detention for two weeks!"

Pomona looked about, noting all the nodding heads, even the Slytherins were agreeing with Susan's statement.

"Well, that explains how you got detentions. I will be discussing this with Professor Snape later this afternoon. Until I tell you differently, plan to attend detention. Wait a tick, that explains how YOU got detentions… How did the entire school get detentions?"

"That is my fault, Professor," Ernie McMillian responded with a small sniffle. "I didn't want Lord Potter to miss his Quidditch practices. Even though he is second string, he is still the youngest player in a long time and I didn't want him to look bad to the rest of the team because of Snape's detentions."

"Professor Snape," Sprout corrected without heat. "Yes, I will be speaking with him this afternoon. Go to the library, all of you. Use this time as a study period. I have things to prepare for the evening. Class dismissed.

Headmaster's Office

Dumbledore sighed heavily. He really despised a heavy-handed approach. But you can only say, 'Bad doggie' so many times before you get out the rolled newspaper.

Looking at his desk and what lay upon it he said sadly, "I did warn you. Perhaps next time you will listen when I speak."

Waving his hands, he floated the two dolls to the glass table with the layered notice-me-not charms.

One doll looked remarkably like Snape, except blindfolded, and appeared to be holding Snape's actual wand.

The other doll bore a fair resemblance to Professor Sprout, with a gag tied across her mouth and holding a full-size chicken egg.

Sighing again, Dumbledore said, "I did warn you."

Turning back to his desk, Albus began to work his way through the ever-present stacks of papers.

You Know Where

Impressive as ever, the dark structure rose from the bedrock of the island. Gloomy, forbidding, massive, depressing, terror-inspiring; all these merely hint at the miasma which seeps from the edifice to engulf those who would dare come near.

Lucius Malfoy approached the gates of Azkaban briskly, escorted by two Aurors and followed by a ministry sycophant carrying his … stuff.

Tapping a scroll recently signed by Fudge, Lucius smiled broadly.

"I cannot wait to see the results of this move."

AN: ThomasNealy was nice enough to point out I screwed up. I used "Pomphrey" instead of "Sprout" for the second doll. As this is a rather LARGE screwup and not just a typo, I changed it immediately. My sincere thanks to ThomasNealy.

Chapter 19: What Have You Done?

What Have You Done?

-===Azkaban Warden's Office===-

Lucius lived for moments like this. Rules and Laws were meant for lesser mortals. For such as himself, they were mere bumps along the road to success; to be avoided if possible and made insignificant if not.

The Warden of Azkaban was re-reading the scroll, as if hoping to find something he overlooked previously, disbelief clearly etched in his features.

Looking up from the scroll, the warden stammered, "You want me to move Bellatrix Lestrange to the minimum-security wing?"

Lucius smiled blandly, "Oh, is that what that says. I asked to speak with a relative and MINISTER Fudge requested I deliver this to you since I was heading this way anyway."

"This says," the warden began again, his fear turning to anger, "I must move Bellatrix to minimum security, prepare a cell 'as much like her home bedroom as possible', and arrange comprehensive medical care to include; nutritionists, healers, and mind healers. What is Fudge thinking?"

Lucius smiled an evil little smile, tilted his head to the right and replied, "I suppose he is thinking he is your superior, the man who authorizes your pay, and the man in possession of facts which you are not. Facts which might make his request not only reasonable, but blatantly obvious. But, I could be wrong. Shall I inquire of him at tomorrow's tea?"

Lucius' smile was all innocence as the warden's countenance became fearful, realizing he was placing his livelihood in jeopardy.

"As you say," came the warden's expected reply. "I shall see to the changes immediately. Which relative did you wish to speak to? Bellatrix?"

"I should say a few words to her before I leave or her sister, my lovely wife, will be perturbed. So, yes, please. I would like a few minutes with Bellatrix before I leave. But, I am here to see Sirius Black. Please have him transferred to a suitable room for a private conversation."

"Sir, we can't do that!" the warden squeaked, placed in a position with no right choices; he chose to stick to protocol. "There is a specific decree stating Black is not to have visitors, ever."

Lucius' Auror escorts glanced at each other and nodded. This was common knowledge among the Aurors.

Malfoy's 'ah ha' moment was obviously fake, "Oh, I suppose you need this," as he pulled another scroll with the Ministry's Seal from his robe.

With dread, the warden took the scroll; breaking the Seal with his thumbnail in a well-practiced swipe. After reading the scroll, with a heavy sigh, the warden said, "It will take us an hour to meet your requirements for Black. This," indicating the scroll, "gives you access to the Minister's private suite. The elf's name is Duty." Looking at the Aurors, "Aurors, please remain with the Minister's guest as we make the arrangements. I am certain he would be most displeased if anything were to happen to Lord Malfoy during his stay." Looking again at Lucius, "I will have Black prepared first, then bring Bellatrix after you are done with him."

Lucius looked at the warden with a predatory smile. "I notice you refer to Sirius Black as 'Black', but Bellatrix Lestrange is referred to in a familiar manner. Is there something going on between you and my sister-in-law? Something of which I should perhaps be made aware?"

The warden's face became paler as sweat started accumulating on his brow. Just the suggestion he might be taking advantage of his female inmates would ruin his career, IF the Ministry didn't give him a 'lateral promotion' into a corner office to make the issue go away. In that case, his name would never be cleared and the suspicion would turn to belief, preventing any future promotions. All this with just a few words from this man.

"No, Lord Malfoy. Nothing inappropriate has occurred! We refer to Black as 'Black' because he is the only Black we have. We have three Lestranges, thus refer to them by their first names to avoid confusion," stated the warden.

"Ah, I understand of course. Might I suggest in the future you refer to my sister-in-law as Mrs. Lestrange? I believe you only have one in residence." Lucius suggested.

"Of course, Lord Malfoy. Mrs. Lestrange shall be prepared for your visit after you have completed your visit with Mr. Black."

"Thank you, Warden."

Lucius turned to leave the room but stopped before doing so. Half turning and looking over his left shoulder he addressed the warden once more, "Many of the residents here come from old, ancient even, Houses with pedigrees similarly respected. While they have fallen far to be at your gentle mercies, they are still the children of those bloodlines. You should treat them as though you expected to see them for dinner tomorrow evening. You have a job to do. They and I expect you to do it…," looking the warden fully in the eyes, "and no more. Do we have an accord?"

The warden nodded quickly. Looking in Lord Malfoy's eyes was to peer into the gates of Hell, the promised damnation more than sufficient motivation for a change of heart.

"We do. I shall personally inspect each cell and every prisoner and assure they are treated no worse than the Law requires."

"Excellent," Malfoy opined as he turned and walked away.

-===Unknown Location===-

Severus had lost track of time. He was hungry, very hungry. Based on previous experience from his childhood, he knew it had been at least a full day since his capture.

Blindly feeling about the room, shuffling his feet through the MANY wands on the floor, he managed to find a chamber pot and a pitcher of water, but no glasses. So, he drank from the pitcher.

From the first war, he had firsthand experience in starving prisoners. With water, they could survive weeks without food; but only days without water. So again, Severus was thankful it was not worse. It could always be worse.

He had also caught up on his sleep, something he rarely had the chance to do. Being blind, stuck in a room without companions, with no furniture save a nightstand and a bed, sleep was easy; for the first 24 hours.

He kept his eyes closed, more from habit than anything else. If his blindness could be healed, he would not want dust and debris in his eyes at that time. It would complicate the healing.

Instead of sleeping, Snape now meditated. Retreating behind his occlumency barriers, he reviewed texts from his master's program. He had been meaning to do this for years but never had the time. Now, he had nothing but time.

"Excuse me"

The voice was completely unexpected. Snape snapped his eyes open and then shut them again at the bright light.

"Who are you," Severus muttered.

"Oh, come now, Severus. It has not been that long."

Grinding his teeth, Severus identified the voice easily. Only his initial confusion had prevented an immediate identification… Dumbledore.

"Headmaster. Have you come to rescue me?" Severus hoped but knew better.

"Rescue you? From whom? You have been in Hogwarts the entire time."

Snape could hear the humorous tone in Albus' voice and hated him just a bit more for it.

"Why am I here," the potions master queried.

Oh, Severus. You should know why you are here. I did warn you if you didn't moderate your behavior I would be forced to administer corrective actions. You didn't. I have followed through on my promise. It is all quite straightforward. I am rather disappointed you did not conclude this yourself." Albus sighed.

"I failed to guess you would allow the students time off their potions classes to teach me a lesson. It is well outside your usual behavior," Snape snarked.

"It is, isn't it," Dumbledore countered with a grin. "You may open your eyes now. I have dimmed the lights."

Severus slowly opened his eyes, still squinting a bit at the awe-inspiring brightness of the single hooded candle. Looking quickly about the room, all seemed to be as he had imagined while blinded: bed, nightstand, chamber pot, water pitcher, and hundreds (if not thousands) of wands on the floor; wands which resembled his to the smallest detail.

Picking up one and looking at Dumbledore, he noticed Albus' wand pointed unwaveringly toward him.

Snape sneered. "Lumos".

Nothing happened. Even though the wand felt like his, it was not.

Snape sighed, "I assume one of these," waving at the floor, "is my real wand and you expect me to sort through them to find it. That could take days."

"Yes, I suspect checking every wand could easily take quite some time."

"I would prefer to meditate. At least I am no longer surrounded by those urchins. I am a Potions Master. I can create magic so subtle you are ensnared before you recognize the danger, potions so strong as to bring those with a foot in the grave back to health. In a potions lab, I AM A GOD!" Snape stood as he spoke, then dropped ungracefully back to the bed, "Yet I am teaching children to slice worms. I am supposed to teach them things so basic I no longer realize I am doing them! Yes, I am the worst teacher in Hogwarts, even below Binns. But I do not feel humbled at that admission. I NEVER WANTED TO TEACH! The miserable excuse for a teacher I have become… that is all on you, Albus."

Snape's shoulders slumped in defeat. "That is ALL on you."

"Perhaps," came the expected reply. "Perhaps I could have made better use of your skills. But I needed a potions professor and you needed the protections living in Hogwarts has provided you and required a cover to explain why you are here."

"But," Albus continued, "You have decided to take out your frustrations on the students in your care. And that, as you say, is ALL on you."

"I shall return in a few hours and we shall discuss the changes I expect to see in your behavior when you are released. IF I release you. Good day, Professor Snape."

Albus faded from sight.

"Save your magic, headmaster. I have seen your tricks before. They no longer impress." Snape sneered into the apparently empty room.

Severus jumped as a voice whispered in his left ear, "Oh Severus, you have only seen the tiniest portion of my magic. There is a reason Tom fears me…"

Hogwarts' Potion Master considered these words as his sight faded again into blindness.

-===Azkaban Visitation Room===-

Sirius Black was very confused. After ten years without human contact, except the guards who taunted him daily, he had a visitor. Of course, the guards refused to say who was visiting as they attached his wrist shackles to the table. At least they provided a chair. It could be worse. And time spent away from the dementors was practically an all-inclusive holiday!

Looking about the room, Sirius noted how much brighter it was than his cell. There, only a tiny barred opening, high in one wall, allowed in fresh air and light. Most of the year direct sunlight never made it to the cell floor. But here, there was a bank of three large windows with glass. True they were barred too, but the sunlight through the windows was a truly glorious thing. He had long ago given up seeing such beauty again. Then again, he had long ago given up on almost everything. His only goal to survive, until he had given up so much he had forgotten why he needed to survive. Survival became the goal, the only measure of success.

The room was clean and didn't stink of human waste, although Sirius was sure he reeked of it, just from being in the same room with it for a decade.

The door opened and two Aurors walked in, surveyed the room and behind the door. One even checked under the table and made Sirius stand up to prove he was not sitting on anything which could be used as a weapon. Only then did they wave to someone in the hall to enter.

Among a long list of people Sirius never expected to see as a visitor, Lucius Malfoy was near the top. As a fellow inmate, yes. That was expected although, sadly, never had occurred.

Smiling at Lucius, Sirius opened his arms in welcome, "Cousin!" The effect somewhat diminished by the clink of the chains as his arms opened halfway.

"Indeed," Lucius greeted. Turning to the Aurors, "We require privacy. Please cast the appropriate charms and wait outside."

"We are required to be in the room at all times."

"No. You are not. It is "suggested", but not required. You can review the exact wording at your leisure, but you will leave this room after casting privacy charms. This is a matter of an Ancient House. And you will not impede it without cause. Are we clear?"

"Sir!" the Aurors snapped to attention. "You have been informed protocol 'suggests' we remain in the room. With this knowledge, after invoking Ancient House privilege, you have ordered us to cast privacy charms and leave you alone with prisoner Black. As you say, so it shall be."

Knowing the protocol was required to absolve them of any liability should anything 'unfortunate' occur, Lucius watched dispassionately as they completed the charms, stepped out and closed the door with a resounding thud.

Looking at Sirius, Lucius began, "Good day, Cousin. It pains me to see the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black in such distress."

Sirius considered the words. Lucius was always subtle when he could be and disliked those who forced him to be blunt. It often ended poorly for them.

Nodding in agreement, Sirius countered, "Indeed it is, Cousin. Many Houses have fallen, only to rise again with time, patience, and a bit of subterfuge. How is my cousin, your Lady Malfoy?"

Lucius smiled. It had been so long. Subtle conversation had become a lost art. "She is well. Thank you for inquiring. I shall be sure to let her know her health was your first thought. Andromeda is also doing well, so I hear."

Sirius nodded and smiled slightly, "Thank you and please convey my respects to your Lady wife's other sister when you see her next." Sirius smirked.

Lord Malfoy nodded in appreciation of a point well scored. Obviously, someone had said something too close to Sirius and caused him to know Lucius would be meeting with Bellatrix today.

"If you don't mind," Lucius began before rising to walk the room, placing a small stone in each corner followed by a larger one on the table.

Sirius watched Lucius pull his wand and begin a complex ward causing all the stones to glow with a golden light for several seconds before returning to their normal coloring.

"So, that's where those went. Congratulations," Sirius smiled broadly.

"I see this place has ruined your diction," Malfoy sneered.

Sirius shrugged, "I can still pull the Lord persona when I choose. Does Lord Malfoy choose to speak to Lord Black? Or does Lucius wish to speak with Sirius?"

"Fair point, Lord Black," Lord Malfoy replied.

And as quickly as that, Sirius Black, the prankster of Hogwarts and founding member of the Marauders… vanished. Gone too was Prisoner Black who resided in Azkaban at Her Majesty's pleasure. Instead, Lord Black sat across from Lord Malfoy. Lord Black of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black studied Lord Malfoy closely, noticing everything: body language, clothing, the face he chose to wear now. Tilting his head slightly to the right, he waited.

'Well,' Lucius thought, 'I received what I requested. That is certainly Lord Black.'

"Lord Black," Lord Malfoy began, "I have come to offer aid to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black."

Lord black raised an eyebrow and waited.

'Perhaps Sirius would have been easier to deal with,' thought Lucius.

"And to aid the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter," Lord Malfoy continued.

Sirius' eyes became somehow sharper, predatory. "You will explain those remarks, in detail, now."

Yes, this was Lord Black. Sitting in prison with Aurors in the hallway and chained to the large oak table, he still managed to imply he would utterly destroy you if you did not comply, immediately.

'And I thought Bellatrix would be the more difficult conversation,' Lucius thought.

"Lord Black, Harry James Potter has taken his Lordship but has been left unschooled in the duties expected of him. The Ancient House of Malfoy has, for the last several months, attempted to prevent Lord Potter from alienating anyone associated with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter previous to his elevation. My Heir, Draco, has been aiding Lord Potter by providing advice on which books contain the most needed information and instructing him in the customs of our world."

"Because of the Hogwarts houses and other subtler issues, my Heir cannot be seen openly aiding Lord Potter. Indeed, we think Headmaster Dumbledore is less than pleased Lord Potter is receiving aid at all," Malfoy concluded and waited for a response.

Nodding once slowly, Sirius commented, "As our time is limited, we shall avoid the tedious ritual of protocol and, as much as it displeases us both, 'cut to the heart of the matter' as 'others' would say."

This was what Lucius was attempting to gain, a conversation with Lord Black which did not include the hours of social protocol; hours they did not have.

Nodding in agreement, Lucius asked, "What would you know?"

Sirius smiled. "You should come by more often. I haven't had an intelligent conversation in years."

"I am impressed the dementors have had such little effect on you."

"Dementors feed on happy memories. I have none left. Lord Black does not require happy memories. Lord Black requires Duty, Honor, and sometimes… Wrath."

Lucius nodded again. It made sense, in a bleak sort of manner.

Lucius began, "Lord Potter, Harry needs more help than Draco can give him. He needs his Godfather." Holding up his hand to forestall the obvious, "Yes, I am aware you are his Godfather. I am also aware you are innocent of the charges laid against you, without trial I might add. Fudge is in my pocket to his elbow. I own him."

"Fudge? Cornelius Fudge? The man is an idiot." Sirius interrupted.

"Yes," Lucius smiled, "but he is my idiot. When I need something, I pull his strings."

Sirius laughed, "I can see you as the puppet master. Congratulations. How does this help Harry?"

"Harry needs you. Thus, I need you out of here. I could get you out of here today, tomorrow at the latest, but there would always be a cloud over your head. Dumbledore would use it as a reason to keep you and Harry separated."

"He could have an unfortunate accident," Sirius countered, smiling.

"And you would end up right back here" Lucius stated the obvious. Killing Dumbledore was a pleasant dream of his, but not to the point he would let it interfere with a good plan.

Acknowledging the obvious with a wave of his hand, Sirius asked, "Well, you would never come here without a plan, several in fact. And you would never tell me all your plans. So, tell me what you can and we shall plot from there."

Now Lucius grinned broadly, "I just happen to know who truly betrayed the Potters and where to find him…"

Sirius leaned forward, looping the chains around his hands and pulled the table to him.

"Tell me."

-===The Great Hall===-

The great hall was nearly full, with every detention other than Snape's being canceled to allow all the students to attend. The drone of the student's chatter threatening to deafen all present.

Suddenly the noise level dropped and continued dropping until the hall was silent, save the breathing of hundreds of students. Professor Snape stood behind a podium before the head table. The other teachers were all sitting at the head table, waiting to judge Professor Snape on this unprecedented detention.

Professor Snape felt all eyes on him and surveyed the hall, noting those with disgusted faces, angry faces, or just frightened. This would have to do.

Taking a deep breath, he began.

"I am disappointed in nearly all of you."

He waited for that to sink in. 'Let them think about it for a moment,' he thought.

"You complain about my classes. You complain about your poor grades. You complain about ME. And what has your complaining gotten you? Nothing. So why do you continue to complain? Because you are idiots, dunderheads, Neanderthals with pointy sticks."

Snape took a moment to sneer about the hall.

"You expect the world to give you solutions to your problems. This is the root of your problem."

Grasping the podium in both hands, he leaned forward and raised his voice.

"Let me make this perfectly clear, the world does not give a DAMN about YOU!"

Standing straight once more, Severus shook his head in mock dismay.

"I have tried, through repetition if nothing else, to teach you the most important life lesson. When you find a problem, find a solution. Always!"

"I have allowed you to explode potions, melt caldrons, ruin untold galleons in ingredients… hoping against all evidence you would LEARN this most basic of lessons."

"If something doesn't work, find out why!" thumping the podium with his fist on each of the last three words.

"This is what will be expected of you in life, once you are beyond these walls. If you are extremely fortunate, you may have a friend point out why what you are doing is not working. More likely, you will continue to pound against the wall of your own ignorance without looking for other solutions… and give up… or become a laughing stock."

"And when that happens, who will you blame? Yourself? Never! It will always be someone else's fault."

His sweeping gaze covered the hall once more.

"I have been blamed for the low number of candidates for healer slots these last ten years. The low number of apprentices to Potions Masters is also blamed on me. As well as Auror candidates."

Pausing for effect…

"You know what you don't hear? That the numbers successfully completing Healer training and becoming Potions Masters is almost constant over the last fifty years! Why? Because the students WORTHY of becoming Healers and Potions Masters is relatively constant. THOSE are the students who will never admit defeat when faced with a problem. They will research and try and research and try again… until they succeed."

Pausing to glare once more…

"Use those tiny minds for a moment and think for yourself. Would you really want someone treating your health problems who 'barely passed' potions? Would you want a healer who knew the protocols for every disease and injury, but was incapable of thinking outside the box? Sure, that type of healer will be sufficient 90% of the time, but what about that other 10%? Do we just sacrifice those lives to make you feel better about your 'barely passing' potions grades?"

Pausing for a few seconds, he glared about the room before throwing his hands in the air in a very un-Snape-like gesture.

"Well, you have finally worn me down."

"I give up."

Grasping the podium, he leaned forward once more, sneering at them all.

"I will treat you like the idiots you so clearly are. I will no longer challenge you to rise to the problem. I will do like every other teacher does. I will spoon feed you my subject matter and not worry about your critical thinking skills. I will no longer worry about how you will react if you are in danger and no obvious answer exists."

Standing upright again, Snape immediately struck the podium with such force it bounced a bit.

"I am angry. I am ANGRY! But not at you. I am angry with myself; for caring about you miserable lot. I am angry with myself for giving a damn. I AM ANGRY I expected you to rise to your potential instead of living the mediocre lives you so richly deserve."

Stopping for several deep calming breaths, he continued in his normal tone of voice.

"All potions classes are cancelled until your detentions are complete."

Cheers burst from clusters around the room, mostly at the table of lions.

Snape stared them down until silence returned.

"Starting tomorrow night, at this same time, for the next two weeks (or more if you are even dumber than I think), you ALL will receive potions remediation. We will cover all the foundations of potions; cutting techniques, stirring methods, ingredient interactions, everything.

"We will not discuss a single potion."

Staring pointedly at the Ravenclaws, he continued.

"Instead I will use my time to instruct you all in things you could have easily researched in the library. There is an entire section of the library dedicated to potions. There is an entire SHELF dedicated to what I shall now spoon feed you. You had every damn answer you could possible require within easy reach for the entirety of your Hogwarts education. And you couldn't be bothered to take the time."

Sneering at Ravenclaw one more time, Snape turned to the rest of the hall.

"So, starting tomorrow night, I will give you the answers. I will give you the techniques. I will FORCE you to become competent in potions."

"And you will all be poorer for it."

Shaking his head sadly…

"I am disappointed in you all."

"Dismissed."

-===Aftermath, Great Hall===-

Professor Snape left the hall with his traditional cloak billowing, but somehow, he made even his footsteps sound disappointed.

Around the hall, student reactions varied greatly.

At Ravenclaw table, almost all were red with shame. Many faces were wet with tears and some were openly sobbing. The few not fitting into the previous groups were sitting quietly, staring into the distance. Whether they were stunned or deep in thought could not be easily determined.

Gryffindor's reaction was as expected, anger and open hostility. "How dare he" and variants were tossed thickly about. No one paid attention to the twin terrors and their reaction.

Hufflepuff all looked to their Head of House, Professor Sprout, for guidance. But she was also staring into the distance. Her mouth working quickly, but nothing said loud enough to hear. Her eyebrows danced above her eyes and she went from frown to surprise and back again.

Slytherin was perhaps the most surprised. No tears. No embarrassment. Just a dazed expression, as though they could not begin to comprehend what had just occurred.

Dumbledore approached the podium and tapped it with his wand, the resulting noise easily cutting through the rising din.

"Students, detention is over for tonight. Return to your common rooms and prepare for tomorrow. As you do not have potions classes as normal, I strongly advise you to use that period to revise the basics Professor Snape will be covering for the near future. I expect to see each of you here tomorrow night and will be most interested in finding anyone who is unavoidably detained."

"Good night."

-===#4 Privet Drive===-

It had taken several large bribes and a few vaguely recalled conversations with Severus, viewed repeatedly with a pensive, but Lucius Malfoy was finally standing on the sidewalk in front of the house Lord Potter had survived.

The most important thing he had learned; the wards prevented any wizard, seeking to harm those within, from finding it.

Lucius had absolutely no intention of harming anyone. 'Well, no one who lives here,' he smiled at the thought.

Examining the neighboring houses, Lucius found himself pitying these muggles. The only dignity a muggle can have is in who they are as individuals. Yet, here the muggles seemed to desire to look like each other, except for minor variations. They were all so desperately average, it made one wonder what depravities they were attempting to hide behind such an average façade?

Perhaps someday he would return and question a few of them, for data analysis of course.

He grinned broadly at the thought.

But for now, tonight, he would be acting as an implement of Justice. Tonight, he would bring Judgement to the Dursleys. All of them.

Years from now, when Harry's treatment at the hands of these… muggles… became public, as most things do, the Dursleys will become an instant example of appropriate Justice for harming the wizard-born.

Smiling merrily, Lucius wondered at the two large fairy circles to each side of the sidewalk. If he had not been otherwise informed he might think a practitioner of the old ways lived here and passed this house by during a raid. But no, the scorch marks and shovel scars indicated someone tried diligently to remove the circle… and failed.

Lucius snickered. 'A prank. How… quaint. Just wait until they see my prank. I am betting it's a killer!' Lucius chortled to himself silently at his witticism.

Removing his wand, he quietly opened the front door and entered.

All the lights were off and snoring clearly heard from upstairs.

Silencing his boots, clothes, and the stairs, Lucius began his ascent.

-===Dudley's Bedroom===-

Upon entering Dudley's room, any reservations he had regarding doing this to a child … vanished. What a wretched urchin! The floor was littered with broken toys. The boy was ball-shaped, round in all directions.

Viewing the room with disdain, he cast a silencing charm on the floor and the pig-boy before proceeding.

Extracting a severed hand from his bag, Lucius set it upon the dresser and lit the fingertips, content he would now not be disturbed during his work.

Using his wand, he levitated Dudley, removed his shirt and laid him on his back.

Drawing forth ink and brush, Lucius began painting symbols on Dudley's chest, humming a rather bawdy tune he once heard during a dock reconnaissance trip.

One good thing about little piggies, there is plenty of canvas to work with. He laughed at his own joke, no longer concerned about waking anyone.

Reaching within his cloak once more, Lucius brought out a jar of phosphorescent goo.

With a fresh brush, he retraced the previous patterns with the glowing gel, humming as he did so. It is important to enjoy your work, after all.

Placing the jar carefully on the nightstand, Lucius turned and began to chant. Slowly the sound swelled and ebbed, like waves upon the shore. Each ebbing cycle seemed to bring a ringing sound which lingered, like a bell. After an hour, the ringing was persistent, clear and impossible to ignore.

Bringing the chant to a crescendo, Malfoy lightly touched Dudley with his wand; once on each eye, his 'inner eye', his lips, and then his heart, before throwing his hands skyward and completing the chant.

Smiling broadly, Lucius looked upon Dudley's chest… then frowned… then scowled.

The ritual was perfect. No interruptions. Perfect weather. Stars AND moon properly placed. The blood should have sunk into Dudley's chest, taking the symbols with it.

Everything was perfect. It should have worked!

'The only reason it would not work would be… no… no… surely not…' Lucius thought as he grasped his wand again and began a complex series of movements over Dudley's chest.

Suddenly a bright white light flashed, accompanied by a loud noise, which sounded remarkably like a champagne bottle losing its cork.

Another set of complex wand movements and Lucius was on the floor, rocking back and forth, unable to breathe.

He was laughing.

"Oh Albus, you have been a very naughty boy," Lucius managed, before being overcome with another attack of the giggles.

-===Author's Notes===-

You have probably noticed I am using different scene dividers. I am tired of FFN stripping the lines dividing my scenes (I use Word) and having to manually insert them afterward. So, I am trying this to see if it works.

Special thanks to all who reviewed. It really does help keep me motivated! This chapter coming so soon is a direct result of those reviews! THANKS!

For the oblivious, apparently, I must say… I am not JKR, nor am I associated with her in any manner. I write for my pleasure and hopefully for the pleasure of my readers. I make no money from this, nor do I expect to. Everything you recognize belongs to JKR, everything else is probably mine. *smile*

Tomorrow is my wife's birthday, so my next update should be the 6th, although enough encouragement might get it done by the 4th… just saying… *grin*

Chapter 20: Dudley's Magic

Questions for Readers of AVDHP:

My primary focus of this story initially was the relationship between Merlin and Harry. As the story has evolved:

Harry's major focus is attempting to rebuild his House into a political power and spreading his genes far and wide to prevent his House from being easily destroyed root and branch.

Draco's plans are a major subplot which will lead toward this rebuilding, smoothing some issues while causing others. But Draco has plans within plans and not all are in Harry's best interest.

Hermione has a major discovery coming which will help Harry and rock the wizarding world at the same time.

But, my major roadblock at the moment is how to deal with Voldemort and Dumbledore.

Voldemort is a cartoon bad guy, as written in canon. He has NO redeeming characteristics. (If anyone could dispute this, I would love to hear your examples. Even Hitler, Stalin, and Mao had SOME redeeming characteristics. Not enough to make them good men, but enough to prevent them from being as two dimensional as Snidely Whiplash.) But, Voldy is not central to my plots, so I could leave him as written in canon: Two dimensional, stupid, evil, without redeeming characteristics (Basically he is the proverbial monkey with a gun). Or I could write him as the genius he supposedly is. (Face it, stupid people don't last practicing the dark arts… because the dark arts will eat them… ? ) Voldy could use politics, economics, extortion, assassination, and good deeds; each in its time, to achieve his goals. And he will actually HAVE goals beyond "everyone bow to me or I will kill you."

Dumbledore is also rather cartoonish. JKR wants us to accept him as this legendary wizard fighting for the side of light. But the truth is far simpler. He is either irresponsible in the extreme or he is a sadistic, manipulative bastard who cares for nothing except his plans. Consider the general evidence. He holds THREE major positions, any one of which should take his complete attention to perform properly. There is no way he can responsibly hold all three at once. This is without considering specifics, such as placing HP with the Dursleys and never checking on him. Even if the Dursleys were the stereotypical perfect family and took HP to their hearts as their own, periodic checks should have been performed.

So, I am placing two polls on my profile page dealing with Voldy and Dumbles. I want your opinions on whether they should be fleshed out as real characters with real motives and what those motives should be… or should they remain the cartoon cutouts JKR made them?

Thank you for taking the time to read this and respond.

Sincerely,
Barbed Caress

And a little something to reward you for taking a few moments to read and respond.

I wrote this months ago and then rewrote it and rewrote it again. Each time my beta told me it skirts too close to the M rating which I want to avoid. So I have redacted those portions which would acquire that rating. Those adult enough may fill in with your imagination. As I originally wrote three completely different versions, I am sure yours will be close to the 'original'. All three ending the same way, so as long as yours matches my ending, you should be fine. (If you are wondering, the first was what you are reading, the second was a prank gone wrong, and the third was malicious poaching. All three ended with the same results, which you will see at the end of this chapter.)

How Dudley Got His Magic

-===October 14th, 1979: Potter Manor===-

Lily and Petunia sat in the receiving room at Potter Manor. It was nice; not great, but nice. They looked so much alike that only standing beside each other was it possible to tell who was who. The sisters had been separated by Petunia's jealousy of Lily's magic and being physically separated by distance as Lily went off to boarding school at Hogwarts.

But, somehow, they put forth the effort to rebuild the burnt bridges. After all, they were sisters. A little thing like jealousy could never keep them apart forever.

As Lily held Petunia's hands, she could tell something was wrong; seriously wrong. Petunia's tears were only barely holding back. Her entire body language screamed 'I'm in trouble'.

"Toony, what's wrong?"

"They taught you to do magic at that place, right?"

Petunia waited for the expected head nod.

"And witches are basically like real women, but with magic, right?" Petunia was unaware of her insult, so focused was she on her own problem.

Lily flinched, but let the insult go, so she could help her sister. She nodded again.

"Did they teach you… Did they teach you girls… Did they teach you how to tell if you were … pregnant?"

With that, the tears flowed freely down Petunia's cheeks.

"Oh Toony, what did you do?"

Lily was not fond of Vernon. Thinking back to when she had met him…

-===flashback===-

The few times they had met, Lily thought Vernon a braggart and bully. After meeting him for the first time, James went to their next planned meeting prepared. As Vernon bragged once again of his latest sale of drill bits to a major oil company, James pulled his wallet from his jacket, then pulled two pieces of paper from it. Handing them to Vernon, James said, "You can keep those."

With a confused look, wondering at the relevance given his current topic of his huge commission on his sale, Vernon looked at the papers.

Seconds later, Vernon became red in the face. Shuffling quickly to the second page, his face became darker as he read it; his body visibly shaking as he struggled for control of his tongue. A deep breath and a long exhale later, Vernon stood.

"I have just remembered a meeting I have tomorrow morning. I must get home to prepare for it. I trust you will all have a pleasant evening. Come Pet. Get our coats. I will drive you home before I start my revisions for tomorrow." Vernon said as he held his hand out for Petunia.

After they were gone Lily asked, "What were those two papers?"

James grinned, "Oh, one was a bank statement for one of our smaller vaults. The other was proof I own 20% of Grunnings Drills. More than sufficient to show him his bragging about his commissions is making him look rather silly. Without being able to brag about his money, apparently, he decided he didn't have enough to talk about to stay longer."

Lily giggled before a sobering thought came to her, "I hope he doesn't take his anger out on Toony."

Pulling her close in a hug to comfort her, "If he does, we will handle him. That is what family does."

-===End Flashback===-

Vernon had quit bragging after that, but also became scarce when he knew James would be present.

"Can you just check me? Please. I'm a week late. I am never late, you know that!" Petunia sputtered.

"Yes Toony, I can check," Lily responded, dreading the answer as much as she knew Petunia was.

A murmured incantation and some intricate wand-work later and the results were clear. Petunia was pregnant.

"Toony, I am sure Vernon will do the right thing by you. He makes enough to support you and your son. A word or two from James in the right ears and he will make even more. It will be alright."

"Son?" Petunia asked, "You can tell? I am going to have a son?"

Smiling gently Lily replied softly, "Yes, you are going to have a son and I am going to have a nephew."

This revelation seemed to make Petunia cry even harder, taking the box of tissues without noticing the house elf handing them to her. This was another red flag to Lily. Petunia flinched every time she saw a house elf, thinking them some unholy spawn of hell the first time she saw one and never since able to fully let that concept die in her mind.

Managing to sob out her next question, Petunia asked, "Is sob is he sob can you tell if he will be magic?" Her sobs became even louder as she managed to get it out.

'So, that is the issue. Petunia is afraid her son will be a freak like she thinks I am,' Lily thought to herself, her smile becoming somewhat brittle at the realization.

"Yes, I can check for you," Lily managed to still sound polite, although it was an effort now. "Freak" was the name Petunia had given her while she was at Hogwarts. She had stopped using it before they tried to heal their relationship, but knowing she used to think of Lily that way still hurt.

More muttering and wand-work left Lily staggered. Petunia was a squib!

Shaking herself, Lily chose another spell. The spell for testing for a magical child in a muggle was simpler than the one for a magical child in a squib.

Muttering another incantation and several wand passes over Petunia's lower abdomen confirmed Petunia's son would be magical, and probably a wizard instead of a squib.

"Okay, this is all I can tell you. You will have to see a magical, a healer, to learn more. You are pregnant, about three weeks along, and your son is probably going to be a wizard. It is too early in your pregnancy to get a good reading on your son's magical strength. He might be a high-magic squib instead. That would still give him a longer life than," Lily paused before saying it, "normal people and let him see magic that most normal people can't see."

Looking Petunia in the eyes, Lily asked softly, "How long have you known you were a squib?"

Petunia closed her eyes tight, forcing more tears down her face, "After your Hogwarts letter, before you left. July, I think. I wrote to your headmaster and begged him to take me with you. I didn't want to be separated from you!" Petunia broke down sobbing again.

"He said I have enough magic to be a squib, but not enough to attend Hogwarts. Not enough to be a witch, like you!" Petunia bawled into a fresh tissue.

After a few minutes, she looked up at Lily, "I have just enough magic to be a freak, but not enough to make it worth having." Breaking down again, she continued to cry.

Lily had a horrible idea cross her mind. If Petunia's son was a wizard, then the father probably was too.

"Toony, is Vernon the father?" Lily asked hesitantly.

"I DON'T KNOW," Petunia yelled into her hands.

"Who else have you… been with?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Petunia wailed to the ceiling.

Trying to stay calm, Lily asked, "Toony, how can you 'not know'?" Thinking to herself, Lily suddenly asked, "Did something happen at the Mabon festival?"

"YEEESSSSS!" Petunia shrieked.

Getting tired of the hysterics and needing to finish the conversation before James came home, Lily cast a calming charm on her sister and then another, waiting for Petunia to get herself under control.

With the sobbing reduced to the occasional sniffle, Lily asked, "Toony, you need to tell me what happened."

"I don't remember," Petunia's voice trembled even under two calming charms. "I went to your party, remember? May-Bone or whatever. Some harvest festival. I was so embarrassed when I realized we had worn the same color dresses. Only the black lace on mine kept me from going home immediately."

Lily nodded, remembering the dress, but not realizing it had affected Petunia so strongly.

"I was nineteen", Petunia managed a weak smile, "and was not used to drinking much. Our parents didn't like it in the house. I had a few drinks with Vernon on dates, but he never let me have more than one. When I got to the party, there was food and drink everywhere. And the outfits… it was more like a fancy-dress party! Half the men wore masks made of corn husks. There was even a woman with a dress made of corn husks. Remember her?"

Lily nodded, "Yes I remember her. That was Pandora Lovegood. Her husband was dressed as a scarecrow."

Petunia furrowed her eyebrows, "That was a person? I thought it was a scarecrow, a REAL scarecrow and had been magic'd to move like that."

Lily smiled at the memory, "The Lovegoods are a bit eccentric, but they are good people."

Petunia didn't argue, "Anyway, I saw all the people with the little corn dolls on their dresses and lapels and such. I asked you where I could get one so I would not stand out so much. Remember?"

Lily nodded. 'This will take forever, but I can't rush her. Any missed detail might be important."

Petunia continued, "And then you gave me the one from your dress. I thought you had another you would go get, but I noticed later you did not have one. You gave me your doll so I wouldn't feel such a stranger."

Looking Lily in the face, "Thank you."

Petunia continued, "The night went by in a blur. I was asked to dance several times. After the first three times, I started accepting. It was the most fun I have had in my adult life."

"We're nineteen. That is not saying much," Lily said with a grin.

"Too right," Petunia replied.

"So, I was dancing and got hungry and thirsty. My partner sat with me and we ate a bit and I had a glass of wine, then another gentleman asked me to dance. After three dances with him, he brought me another glass of wine before leaving me to his friend who wanted to dance. I don't know how many times I danced or how many glasses of wine I drank. But I started to get dizzy and decided to find somewhere to rest for a few minutes."

Lily nodded to keep Petunia talking.

"I found one of those fainting couches in what I think was a receiving room."

Looking around, Petunia's eyes popped open wide. "I think it may have been this room!"

Lily frowned, "Are you sure it was this room?"

"Lily, I am not 'sure' of anything from that night. If it was not this room, it was one very much like it. The lighting was very low. It was perfect for me to rest my eyes until the room would hold still."

Lily nodded again, motioning with her hand to continue.

"I don't know how long I was there. I might have dozed off. But I didn't throw up. I would have been mortified if my first party invitation to your husband's house saw me sick on his floor!"

"I started feeling better, but still a bit woozy, when this man came in. I think he was one of my dancing partners from earlier. He told me how beautiful I was and how he just had to kiss me. And… I let him. He was strong and gentle at the same time. He nibbled my ear, kissed my neck, then asked if I would like a foot rub. My feet were so sore from dancing, I said yes, although it may have come out a bit slurred."

"He moved to the end of the couch and took my shoes off. I don't know what kind of magic he did, but my feet started feeling better immediately. Soon they felt wonderful, sending little tingles up my legs to… you know."

Petunia looked at Lily, begging her with her eyes to understand so she didn't have to spell it out. When Lily nodded she continued.

"I don't know what magic he used. I never saw his wand," Petunia blushed furiously at the double-entendre. "But it felt even better and I noticed my hose was gone. Now he was rubbing from my heels to the back of my knees, making little squeezing motions as he went. It was amazing. I never felt anything like it!"

"Then he moved back to my face and started kissing me again. It was more passionate than anything in those trashy novels I used to read."

"Used to?" Lily interrupted with a smile.

"Moving on," Petunia countered, "It was feeling wonderful and then he started to untie my bodice. So, I slapped his hand. I told him it had taken me hours to get that lacing just perfect to make everything sit just right. He laughed at me and said the party was nearly over, so it would be okay. Then he told me he loved me. I told him he was drunk, which he admitted. 'Yes, I am drunk and you are beautiful. Tomorrow I will be sober and you will be even more beautiful.' And I admit it. I melted. I didn't resist when he loosened my bodice. I didn't protest anything. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensations from his hands and lips

*****Redacted*****

"My eyes flew open and he was smiling at me. His eyes behind that corn mask were beautiful and promised me love. Then I saw the little corn doll he was wearing. It looked just like the one I was wearing. It even had the same color silk ribbon. So, I decided this was meant to be. I closed my eyes and tried to experience it, to remember it. I had planned to wait for my wedding night, but that didn't happen. And you only get one 'first time'."

"I don't know how long it lasted. But all the time he whispered in my ear, "I love you" over and over again. Everything felt perfect. Then he kissed me again, gently. He said I was his and he was mine for all of time. Then he left."

"I haven't seen him since," Petunia murmured.

"And then?" Lily choked out.

"After he did not return, I felt used, broken. He seduced me, used me, and walked away as though I were a common whore." Petunia's tears began flowing again before Lily refreshed the calming charm.

"I went home and the next night I gave in to Vernon's attempts to bed me. I know the first time is supposed to be painful, but special. Mine was. But Vernon… there is no magic there, of either type. When we got to his bed, he kissed me a few times, took off my clothes, then his. *****REDACTED***** Less than five minutes later, he said, "I love you" and then rolled over and went to sleep. And you know the worst part?"

Lily shook her head perfunctorily.

"I didn't believe him. I don't believe Vernon loves me. I think someone told him he was supposed to say that when he was… 'done'. When I was sure he was asleep, I just lay there and cried silently for the rest of the night."

"Every time since has been identical."

"He is in a much better mood these days, but I can't help wishing for a wizard lover who can make me feel like that again." Petunia sniffled

"Toony, I might be able to help, but I need your permission."

"What do you want to do?"

"There is magic that can let me see your memories. Maybe I can figure out who he is."

Petunia considered this before nodding, "What do you need me to do?"

"Just look into my eyes and let me in, Toony. Let me see the night of the party. Let me see everything," Lily said in an almost hypnotic tone. Looking into Petunia's eyes, she did it.

"Legilimens"

-===Hours Later===-

Petunia woke slowly on the same couch from her memories. She was certain of it now.

Petunia saw Lily pacing around the large room. From the nearly perfect turns at every corner, she assumed this was something Lily did often.

Sitting up, "I don't remember falling asleep. What happened? Did you figure out who it was?"

Lily's voice was soft, but with an edge as she responded, "Yes, I know who it was. You fell asleep because what I did is very tiring to … you."

"Well, who was it? When he finds out I am pregnant, maybe he will marry me. We can at least get him to pay child support."

"No. He is married. The only reason he lay with you is that he thought you were me." Lily was obviously not happy about this.

Petunia even less so as she exclaimed, "You mean the only decent sex I am ever likely to get in my entire life is because they saw me and thought I was you?"

"They thought you were me." Lily didn't want to reinforce the 'sex will always be awful' comment.

"But why? If James found out someone other than him had lain with you, he would kill them. You said he has money. This house proves that! You said James has friends who would do 'anything for him'. Your words.

"Remember, you and I were wearing very similar dresses. The differences were small enough men would not notice especially in a darkened room. You were also wearing my corn doll. We look a lot alike. So, darkened room, similar dress, corn doll, nearly the same features."

"But we have different hairstyles! What idiot could confuse that?" Petunia shrieked.

"Almost any man. They are oblivious of such things."

"But mine is almost three inches shorter… THREE INCHES! How oblivious can they be?"

"You dear sister, have just described the male of the species. They are all idiots. Sometimes I think they are nothing more than a life support system for their gonads." Lily snarled.

"Well, I don't like it! If I am to be bedded, I would rather have Vernon. At least he knows it's me!"

"You want me to use magic to change the way you look?" Lily inquired.

"Can you?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, make it so I am never confused with you again!" Petunia begged.

Lily had to crush the rage at her betrayal lest she do something she 'might' regret someday. After all, making her bald would keep people from confusing them. So, would scarring her face. Or even killing her. She was unlikely to be confused with a corpse.

'No!' Lily thought to herself. 'This is not Toony's fault. It was not anyone's fault. I will not harm my sister.'

Looking back at Petunia, the angel on Lily's shoulder didn't fight the devil's suggestion, 'But she wants to look different from you. You can do that.'

"Alright Petunia. I can make you look different, but it will have to be gradual or everyone will notice. Within a few weeks, you should look enough different people will stop confusing us. Within months, no one will confuse us with each other. I am not sure what the results will be but I will aim for 'average looking'. Is that what you want?"

"Vernon is already complaining about how many men look at me in public. I think average will work just fine."

"Are you wanting to marry Vernon?"

"I am damaged goods now. At least he thinks he is was my first."

"But, do you want him to marry you? Many women don't wait for their wedding night any longer. Most, in fact. You could do better. Trust me on that!"

"No, if I can't have Magic Man, then I will settle for what I have."

Petunia frowned, "But what if he doesn't like my new face? What if he doesn't want me because of how I will look?"

"I can take care of that. A little magic and he will always think you are the perfect wife for him."

"You can do that?" Petunia's hope lit anew. "And no one will confuse you and I again?"

"Never," Lily promised.

The devil on Lily's shoulder smiled, while the angel on the other shoulder held her hands over her eyes.

-===Halloween Evening 1979===-

Lily had prepared the evening carefully.

Getting James away from the other Marauders was easy. Just a few suggestions for a 'private' celebration and a few bats of her eyelashes had James practically throwing them out the front door while Sirius was sing-songing "Someone's gonna get lucky" over and over and over.

Lily would be pregnant by the dawn. She understood how it happened, even if it was some sort of cosmic joke. She could even forgive the circumstances, barely. But there was no way her husband's only child would be Petunia's.

AN: I am going with Petunia and Lily being twins. Although canon says Petunia is the oldest, All I could find was Petunia was born in 1960 and Lily was born January 30th, 1960. So, the only way I see to make those fit is if they are twins and Petunia was born first. If I am mistaken, I look forward to the (inevitable) corrections. For the purposes of this story, it will not matter. They just need to look close enough to each other than in similar dresses, in a darkened room, with Mabon masks, they look alike to an inebriated man. I think that is a pretty low standard to hit.

AN: If this STILL makes this M rated, please respond with the portions you think should be redacted and I will remove them if enough people agree.

Chapter 21: Putting the Genie Back

AN: My notes for the last chapter were excessive. You have my apologies. The reason for the last chapter (and this one) is to provide the background for a subplot planned for the 2nd year. I didn't want it to come out of nowhere. This really should have been part of the previous chapter, but I really wanted that pause between reading that and this. James is Dudley's father. That is going to lead to lots of issues.

AN: My belief is, life is messy. I could write my core plotline in less than 40K. It would be weird because it would not mirror life. It would be too neat without any complications which did not directly affect the plot.

Last AN: You can thank the guest reviewer for today's update. Sometimes the strangest things can motivate you. Thank You Guest reviewer!

Chapter 21

Putting the Genie Back in the Bottle

-===November 12th, 1980===-

Lily could hardly believe the changes the year had brought. Yet here she was, in the same room again, with Petunia. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Speaking of change, Harry and Dudley sleeping together in the playpen was a welcome change. They looked so cute together and far too much alike. In fact, they looked like twins. Eventually, it would be a problem. A LARGE problem.

Sadly, that was not the reason for meeting with Petunia today.

"He is. I know he is." Petunia sighed heavily.

"Dudley is very young. Accidental magic rarely shows at this age. Could you be imagining it?" Lily cautiously inquired.

"Well, he is not floating things around like Harry," Petunia paused as she and Lily looked toward the crib and their sleeping angels. "But when he is happy… When he is happy, his eyes twinkle."

"Toony, eye twinkles are common in… normal … children too."

"In the dark?" Petunia huffed.

"Well, no, that is not normal." Lily agreed. "May I check him for magic?"

Petunia nodded. "That is why we are here."

Lily rose from the couch and walked to the crib, taking a moment to smooth her skirt, avoiding the diagnostic charm for a few more seconds. If Petunia was this worried, she probably had a reason.

"Vernon has not noticed anything yet. According to him, taking care of babies is 'women's work'. He has not changed a diaper or helped with feeding or rocked him in the middle of the night. He says his part will start when Dudders is older enough to talk and run. Dudders? Who the hell would call his son Dudders? I hate that name."

Lily took a deep calming breath and centered her attention before she cast a simple detection charm. Harry woke up immediately, smiling. Lily had used this charm on him several times and from his reaction… it tickled. Smiling she recognized the faint blue aura surrounding Harry. He would grow to be a powerful wizard, just like James.

Looking at Dudley, Lily gasped. He was no longer asleep. He was looking right at her and cooing. And there was the aura a magical child would have, in this case, a teal hue almost as bright as Harry's. 'Toony is right. Dudley is a wizard.'

Reaching down into the crib Lily stroked the cheek of each child in turn before returning to sit by Petunia on the couch.

"Well?" Petunia demanded a bit shrilly.

Nodding Lily confirmed Petunia's worst fear, casting a calming charm as she did: no reason to upset the children.

Petunia's sobs died away immediately as she replied, "Vernon will kill Dudley and then me. He has praised God for me 'not being a freak like your sister'. If he finds out, he will kill us both. And how can he not find out? Look how much they look alike! They are practically twins!"

"Tell him they take after you and me more than him and James. No. That won't work. Harry looks too much like James." Lily sighed.

"So does Dudley," Petunia said blandly. She had long suspected James was Dudley's father, but Lily had never admitted it and she wasn't cold-hearted enough to ask bluntly. Though looking at Harry and Dudley side by side, it was becoming harder to ignore.

"He does, doesn't he?" Lily admitted quietly. "You know why, don't you?"

Silence hung between them, broken only by the cooing and babbling of Harry and Dudley as they tried to eat each other's fingers.

Petunia sniffled before replying, "I suspected. After they were born, I suspected. How could anyone not? They look so much alike! But I didn't know how to bring up the subject. At least we know it can never happen again. We barely look like sisters now, much less like twins."

"So, what do you want to do?" Lily asked softly.

"What do you mean? What choices do I have?" Petunia moaned. "I've no place in your world. I'm a squib and a mudblood squib at that. I'd be hated on general principle by almost everyone."

"How do you know those terms?" Lily asked sharply.

"Dumbledore. That is what he told me when I begged to come with you. He said leaving me in the normal world was a kindness compared to the hardships I would have if I tried to follow you into yours."

"Bastard," Lily mumbled.

"Everyone in your world seems to think he is this paragon of virtue. But he just seemed cruel to me."

"You could leave Vernon."

"And then what? Raise a son on my own? Without a job? How would that work?" Petunia sneered.

"I could arrange through the bank for you to have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life. Regardless of the circumstances, your child is my husband's. Supporting the both of you is the right thing to do." Lily's shoulders slumped as she admitted aloud Dudley's father for the first time.

"Would you tell James? Would you tell him Dudley is his son?" Petunia queried quietly.

"No. I can't. If I had told him as soon as I found out, I think we could have worked through it. But after so long." Lily sniffed loudly, trying to hold back the tears at the thought of what could happen. She didn't know that James would leave her, especially since Harry was born, but she knew their marriage would never be the same.

"I understand. And that is why it would never work. Eventually, he would notice. He has money. Lots of money. Which means he has people to manage his money. So, someone would eventually notice, and he would be informed. You would have to tell him then. If you don't think your marriage could survive a year of this secret, imagine if another ten went by before he finds out?" Petunia let the words hang, leaving Lily time to consider her comment.

"You're right. It would never work, not that way. But still, we can do something!"

"Yes, we can. Remember when that woman came to tell you about your … magic?"

Lily nodded.

"She said you could go to Hogwarts and learn to be a witch. Or you could stay in the normal world and be normal for the rest of your life."

Lily's eyes popped wide in shock.

"But, they said I could only be normal if they bound my magic and removed my memories of it… forever," Lily gasped.

"Exactly. Can you arrange for Dudley and me to have our magic bound? I know I am just a squib, but that is still more magic than I want. I just want to lead a normal middle-class life. I want to forget that James is Dudley's father. I want to forget that night; it leaves me longing for something I will never have. Can you arrange this, so no one knows? Please?" Petunia begged. With the calming charm, there were no tears, but her eyes clearly showed the desperation she felt.

Taking a deep breath, then sighing heavily, Lily agreed, "Yes Toony. I can arrange it."

-===December 21st, 1980 Number 4 Privett Dr===-

Dumbledore walked around the Dursley home. Thanks to a generous donation by James and Lily, Vernon and Petunia owned their home. Albus looked through the kitchen window to see the sisters talking at the kitchen table. Paying off their mortgage seemed to confuse Vernon. He seemed torn between anger at receiving charity and happiness at the money he would save in interest alone. The combination came across as confused, not a good look for Mr. Dursley, but one common to his features.

"The world is a more complex place than you will ever dream, Mr. Dursley," Albus whispered as he returned to his work.

Lily had brought him an interesting problem; one whose solution would provide a potential lever to solve another problem. Thus, Dumbledore was walking the property, mumbling quietly as he moved the Elder Wand seemingly randomly. Five ward stones were now buried around the property, deeply enough to not be easily disturbed. Two more would be buried beneath the house, one connected to Petunia and the other to her son.

Lily asked him to bind their magic, emphasizing the danger to them both if Vernon ever discovered it.

But Lily did not understand the danger to herself and her family. 'Eventually, I will have to tell them' Albus thought to himself. 'But not yet. Let them have their holiday in peace.'

So, instead of binding Petunia and Dudley, Albus planned to drain their magic into the ward stones. Dudley would be the problem since he was a wizard. The ward stones would easily keep Petunia drained, but Dudley would need a block in addition to the ward stones. Binding his magic wouldn't help Lily, but draining it into the ward stones would provide a possible bolt hole should everything go pear shape. Albus smiled. 'Pear shaped… what an interesting phrase for oops.'

Shaking his head in amusement, Albus continued his mumbling and wand waving.

-===Inside Number Four===-

Vernon was confused. Not his normal confused; he knew how to deal with that. No, he was just confused. 'Why am I sitting here? Should I be watching the telly? It's Sunday night. Good stuff on the box on Sundays, I think. What is on Sunday nights?'

"Albus offered to add a ward scheme to keep you and your family safer," Lily explained. "That is what he is doing out there now."

"Can't he dress like normal people? People are going to notice the barmy ol' codger waving a stick around after dark, especially in those outrageous robes! They're glowing!" Petunia complained.

"Trust me. He is the most powerful wizard in the world. When he leaves, no one will remember him, unless he wants them to." Lily explained calmly.

"He would have to be powerful to get people to forget that outfit!" Petunia snarked before asking, "How are we going to get around the elephant in the room? Harry and Dudley still look a lot alike."

"With your permission, I will cast a compulsion on you and Dudley. You will always see him as a few pounds lighter than he is, so you will feed him more. Dudley will always be a little bit hungrier than he should be, so he will eat a bit more. That will fill out Dudley's cheeks and round him a bit, more like Vernon. I will also cast a compulsion on Vernon, with your permission, to only see the traits that are most like him when he looks at Dudley. He will never guess otherwise."

"How can you do that?" Petunia asked with a bit of awe.

"Magic," Lily said sadly. "The same Magic we are going to bind in Dudley. Without that binding, he would grow up to join the magical world and be able to do all this and more. Are you certain you want to take this from him? We can look into other options."

"No. I have considered this for the last few weeks. Without taking Dudley away from Vernon, it would never work. Without you taking the risk of James discovering what happened, it would never work. It just won't work. I can't take Vernon's son from him. Binding his magic is the only way this can work." Petunia said with resignation.

With a sudden thought Petunia asked, "Wait, if you do that to me and Dudley, he will get fat, won't he? I don't want to overfeed him."

"I'll come by every few months to check up on you. If he is starting to get a bit tubby, I will ease the compulsion a bit. With the compulsion on Vernon, as long as Dudley stays ten percent or so heavier than Harry, no one should think about it too much." Lily said, trying to assure her sister of the plan.

"Okay. I trust you to keep an eye on us."

Lily smiled. Maybe their relationship could recover some day.

Petunia returned Lily's smile.

*cough*cough* Interrupted their moment. Turning they saw Dumbledore holding a stone with runes carved into its surface, shaped like a pear.

"In case things go pear shaped. I thought it appropriate." Albus grinned.

Petunia did not look amused.

Lily did not look amused.

Vernon started laughing, "Pear shaped!" as he slammed his hand on the table repeatedly.

Confundus charms can sometimes have unexpected side effects…

-===Azkaban Jan 1992===-

"So, now that I am a free man and Peter is enjoying the pleasures of my former accommodations," Sirius said as he walked into the sparse sunshine of Azkaban, "what do you want from me?"

"Nothing more than we agreed upon already," Lucius smiled. "You will come home with me to return your hygiene to that of a Lord, dress as a Lord, greet Narcissa, enjoy a good meal, a good night's sleep complete with dreamless sleep, and a healthy breakfast. Then you will go to Gringotts, claim your Lordship and complete your portion of our deal."

Stepping onto the deck of the ferry, Sirius queried, "And that's it. We're even."

"Of course," Lucius smiled. "Although, if you would keep an eye on Draco when you see him and should he get into more trouble than you think he can handle himself, I would appreciate you letting me know or giving him a hand, whichever you find more appropriate."

"After what Draco has done for Harry? You did not have to ask."

"Then we agree as to our next actions. Come. I have a bottle of cognac I promised I would open should the occasion ever arise. I think you escaping Azkaban qualifies."

"Henri IV?" Sirius asked with an arched eyebrow.

Lucius merely smiled and nodded slightly.

Sirius looked suspiciously at Malfoy, "You know I never served your Dark Lord."

"Of course."

"You know I will never serve him."

"Of course."

"Then why would you open a 40,000 galleon bottle of cognac for me?" Sirius queried darkly.

"Let us just say I did not pay that for the bottle and have wondered for many years how it would taste. Until now, I have had no one with a palate I thought would appreciate the nuances of such a refined spirit. I look forward to sharing it with Lord Black," Lucius replied smoothly.

Sirius nodded, turning back to the bow of the ferry as it began its latest trip away from the god-forsaken rock. In silence he experienced the fetid smell of dead fish, the cold spray stinging his face; the bitter winter wind howling against his body, threatening to strip his coat from him before tossing him to the waves, never to be seen again.

Drawing in a deep breath, Sirius Black laughed.

It was truly a glorious day to be alive!

-===Hogwarts Jan 1992===-

Harry and Draco are enjoying their usual pastime; arguing. Or so it seemed to Harry. Draco would come up with some off the wall idea and then try to get Harry to go along with it. In the beginning, Harry would go along just to keep the peace, such was the betrothal contract insanity. But recently he had developed more of a sense of what he would (and more importantly… would not) do to keep the peace with his secret friend.

In their usual room, the one they first met in, Dobby had provided snacks for their weekly debriefing and planning session.

"You have to!" Draco commanded.

"No"

"It is the done thing."

"No"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No"

"Well then, you better start thinking of something. You need to elevate the NAME of Potter. Your grandfather was the last Potter to hold serious political and social power. If he didn't invite you to a social function at the beginning of the season, you probably would not be invited to any others either. The world swayed to his rhythm, much as it does now for my father. Your father, James Potter, was not interested in politics and social niceties. Had he survived into his fifties, I am sure your grandfather would have ingrained the need into him and he would have performed his duties as expected. But that didn't happen. Thus, your father was unable to train you. So, we will have to do the best we can with what we have. I can share my knowledge with you, but I am decades from being properly trained to be Malfoy of Malfoy." Draco explained, using the teacher speaking to a slow student voice Harry had learned to hate.

"I have money. I can buy attention."

"Yes," Draco droned, "but you have to buy the right kind of attention. Regardless of what some celebrities would have you believe, there is bad publicity."

"So, I should fund a wing at St. Mungo's or open a home for widows and orphans or subsidize a theater company or commission art to place in public buildings, is that it?"

Draco nodded, "Any of those would do. There are many ways to achieve good publicity. My father was 'allegedly' a death eater. Now he has tea with the Minister on a regular basis and is consulted before many major changes in government occur. How did he make that transition? He bought good publicity, lots of it. He used that goodwill to counter the previous reports of his behavior. If he can do that, given his history, imagine what you can do starting as The Boy Who Lived."

Harry knew he had lost this discussion, as he usually did. Draco's advice was usually supported by a firm foundation of fact, leverage, and a knowledge of manipulation.

Nodding Harry said, "Okay. I will consider the options you have suggested and any others I can think of. We will do something to elevate the Potter name before the school term ends."

Draco, always gracious in victory, nodded his head as his armed snaked across Harry's shoulders for a very manly one-armed hug.

"I knew you would understand."

-===Abandoned classroom, 4th floor===-

Harry was meeting with Hermione. Somehow, in the few short months since he accepted her into his House, she had become someone he relied on. She was his social secretary, although those duties were very light for now. But upon seeing his need, she became his research team leader, organizing the other members of House Potter, ordering them about, and then collecting and analyzing the data they gathered. From there it was a very short hop to what she now was, his 'Director of Intelligence'.

"So," she began, "I have examined all the betrothal and marriage contracts, breaking them into groups by age, gender, dowry, family wealth, family political power, trade routes/contacts, and access to military resources."

"Gender?" Harry interrupted.

Smiling Hermione nodded, "Oh yes, there were quite a few males applying for the position of your 'wife'."

"Um, just… um… No. Just no."

"I assumed that would be your opinion and moved those contracts to the bottom of the pile. Although, there was an eastern European prince who was a perfect fit, except for being male," Hermione teased lightly.

"Once again, no. I need children to carry the Potter line. Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, fruit of my loins, and all that," Harry responded firmly. 'I'm not even interested in girls yet. Guys are definitely out of the question!' he thought.

"Do you want the detailed breakdown? Or would you prefer I just tell you who you should marry?"

"Give me the top pick and then support your position," Harry sighed.

"Okay. Daphne Greengrass should become your first wife. Since pureblood witches don't seem to be very fertile, rarely giving birth to more than one child and almost never more than two… hmmm… I wonder why? First generation witches seem as fertile as muggles… Will have to look into that later. Back on topic," Hermione started, then raised her hand to stop the inevitable interruption, "Weasleys appear to be the exception. So, if you want more than one child, you will need to engage in coitus with more than one woman. If you want them to be able to inherit, you will need to have some legal bond to the mother: wife, concubine, mistress, etc."

Harry nodded. He had decided this months ago. He didn't like it, but he didn't have to like it. Reality is what it is. But sometimes, Reality sucks.

"So why is Ms. Greengrass the best choice?" Harry inquired.

Hermione raised her fist and started ticking off points as she raised fingers. "She is your age, female, her father is promising a sizable dowry which includes valuable land, the Greengrass family is wealthy (having stayed neutral in most previous wars), their political power is practically unrivaled should they choose to use it (although they rarely seem to), and they have several import/export businesses both magical and muggle. The only negative is their lack of military resources, but with enough money, those can still be acquired."

Stopping to look carefully at Harry she continued, "But those are not the best reasons. Those are the reasons for you to pick Ms. Greengrass if you were who you are pretending to be."

"I am not sure what you are implying," Harry stated flatly, drawing himself to his full height.

"Oh please! Recall what I just told you about the Greengrass contract. I have collected that level of data on EVERY contract sent to you. You would be amazed at what people say when the only person around has her head stuck in a book reading. I might as well be furniture for all the caution they give when speaking around me. And when those contracts started coming in, people talked. A lot. Within two months I had the information I gave you on every House and so much more. It did not take long to realize you are a fraud."

Harry started to talk fast but Hermione quickly raised her hand to quiet him.

"I don't have a problem with you being a fraud. I figured out why. I have seen some of the books in your bag when you are in the library. If you were what you pretend to be you would not be reading such elementary books. So, you entered Hogwarts untrained and have been bluffing your way through the whole time. By the way, well done!"

Turning to pace along the front of the classroom, ignoring Harry's red face, she continued.

"You are rebuilding your House, almost from scratch. You plan to marry and produce an heir as quickly as possible to prevent your line from dying. You plan to have many children with many women, to reduce the chance your House will ever face this again. You plan to gain Power, capital P; political, magical, social, and any other you can acquire. And you plan to use that Power to defend your House and those allied with it. That about cover it?"

Harry was a bit stunned. He had only discussed these issues with Draco and he knew Draco would never say anything. He nodded to Hermione, wondering where she would go from here.

"I'm brilliant," Hermione answered the unasked question, "and I have been spending a lot of time with you. I am very observant and as I said, people ignore you when you sit still and read quietly. But that is neither here nor there. It gives me enough information to determine Daphne is your best choice Because…" she started raising fingers again, "The contract states she is properly trained to be the wife of a Head of House with all that goes with that. She has the skills to run a home, manage the servants, deal with social requirements, and so on. She is also to be your bed partner until she is pregnant. Upon giving birth, she becomes your wife and not until then. This used to be common in marriage contracts to prevent 'being saddled with an infertile wife'. No, I don't like it, but it is what it is. Tradition and all that. Very few of the other contracts contained this clause. But, most importantly, upon you accepting the contract, she will swear an unbreakable vow to not reveal your secrets without your explicit permission."

Hermione waited for Harry to understand the significance of that last bit.

Harry nodded, "Okay, that sounds good."

Hermione frowned and waited… and waited…

Exasperated, she explained, "She has all the training you are pretending to have! And will swear a vow to keep your secrets…" She waited again.

After a minute of silence, Harry shook his head in annoyance, "Just tell me."

"After she swears the Vow, you tell her you don't have a clue how to be a proper Head of House. She will then be required by the contract, as your betrothed, to teach you everything you need to know. It's PERFECT!"

Hermione was practically bouncing as she waited for Harry to catch up.

Finally achieving the 'ah ha' moment, Harry's eyes went wide, and he smiled.

And even though it was her idea, Hermione was more than a little uncomfortable with how much Harry's smile looked like Draco's at that moment.

-===Lower Level of Gringotts===-

In a dimly lit room, well away from the well-traveled tunnels and railways below Gringotts, four cloaked and shadowed figures stood almost face to face as they discussed business. Each of the four entrances to this dusty room guarded by two large and heavily armored goblins, their backs to the room as they stared into the dim light of the hallways.

"The ring is gone. It is reported it appeared on his hand while he was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts", one figured whispered.

"The report is confirmed," another whispered.

"He will want access to our money," said one bitterly.

"It is our money until he turns seventeen. The contract supports us in this," spoke the last.

"Not if he claims his Lordship, which he has. Then the contract is in his favor and we must settle for the profit we have made these last years," complained the first.

"Not necessarily…" the last goblin said with a grin, sharp teeth shining in the dim light.