Chapter Six
Two Weeks Later
Narcissa Malfoy, or now more correctly Black, was not having a good day. In fact, it had been quite a while since she had finished a day that could be called good. Not since school possibly. Even then, people had expected things from her, for her to act a certain way. She and her brother were not very different really except for one small thing. He had more courage. She had wanted to get away from the darkness of the House of Black herself, but lacked the fortitude to actually do anything about it. Of course, there had been highlights since then. For a while, her husband had treated her very well. It had not lasted long though, before he reverted to type. Especially once, he got himself deeply involved with the Dark Lord. Her son that had briefly been quite a bright spot. Until the little shit had become a clone of his father. She had been optimistic for him. He had once been such an empathic, loving child.
That had quickly gone down hill once his father had gotten his claws into him. How could any child be aloud to grow up, as they should when they had a Dark Lord as an uncle and Death Eaters as family friends? His godfather was possibly a redeeming feature there; he had gotten the boy interested in potions. So even if he followed in his fathers footsteps and actually joined the movement there was hope he would move into potions, A somewhat less dangerous and murderous occupation. It was not much, but it was something at least. The only trouble with said godfather was that he, whilst being honourable in his own way, was not the nicest person in the world. This could have been one of the reasons that Lucius had picked him in the first place. For god sakes, Draco's godmother was none other than Bellatrix LeStrange. Narcissa loved her sister dearly for the fun loving younger woman she had been, all that too had changed though, once she married Rudolphus's LeStrange or actually a little before, she had become as warped and twisted as her husband to be.
Damn Wizarding Marriage Contracts and their warped view on femininity and their place in the world. They were ancient and out dated, and most of the time cruel. The idea was to make sure the bride, of pure blood of course, would be compatible with their new groom no matter their own personality. It changed people, and that was one of the reasons that it was so little used these days. However, of course her crone of a mother had just HAD to make a contract with the damn LeStrange's a pure blood family almost as bad as their own. In that, at least, Narcissa had been lucky. No contract bound her to Lucius. This is one of the reasons that she, thanks to her brother, had finally been able to escape the blonde bastards grasp.
She had been happy to sign the contract to say she was not a Death Eater, and dissolve her partnership with Malfoy. To become once again a Black, the one good thing their supposed Patriarch had done with his powers, as far as she was concerned. The money was nice of course, but she had been steadily siphoning off her allowance and some 'house keeping' money from a year after she had been married. Her plans at the time were put off for her son, who she did indeed love, like was a different matter. She had planned to escape to some place over seas. Perhaps America, the supposed land of opportunity. Then had come her son, so of course, she put off her plans, then once he became as abusive as his father, physically and mentally, she had re-laid her plans. She was still a few years off when Sirius had laid down his masterstroke.
It had made trouble for her though. A whole lot of trouble.
The Death Eaters were after her, had been since she had signed the damn contract almost. How they had found out so quickly was worrying. They must have spies in Gringotts, of all places! Still, there was nothing she could do about that now. She had been given one of their new Cards thankfully. Therefore, she did not have to keep nipping back to a bank every time she needed money. That had helped her stay under the radar a bit. It would be easier if she could disappear into the Muggle world. Nevertheless, what does a pure bred, pureblooded witch know of such things. That was simple to answer, absolutely nothing. Her muggle studies at school had been a joke, just as they still were from what she knew.
Therefore, she had fled to Prague, a city she knew quite well form holidays with the family and such. Yet they had followed her easily enough. Probably from her booking at the International Portkey Authority, which was a risk she had been forced to take. Not many wizards/withes had the power to cross the Channel via the usual fashion that they liked to travel. She knew the old fool at Hogwarts could. She COULD have asked him for help she supposed. However, knowing him, he would have put her to work in that supposedly secret Order of his.
It was not as if she did not already, have a job anyway. Not that she had met her knew Patriarch, or employer yet. Other than a brief sighting at the platform, or that once at the World Cup. Seemed like a nice enough boy, unless you listened to her son go on about him and his friends. The red headed Weasley and the Mudblood Granger. Not that she personally liked the term. After all, logically there were no true pure bloods left. It was expected of her to act a certain way though, or had been.
Sometimes the running was worth the freedom she now had. However, she would not really be free until she had somewhere safe to go.
The beautiful blonde woman darted a look behind her. It was quiet here, too quiet in fact. She was SURE someone was behind her.
She moved a little faster, turned around and that was that. Pain and then blackness.
Rudolphus LeStrange looked down at the women he had felled physically and smiled nastily.
Another crony rounded the corner behind him. "Is that her?" they asked.
Rudolphus rolled his eyes, "What do you think moron?"
"I think you like hitting people LeStrange. It could be just about anyone," the man said in a thick accent. He was a local, and thus did not really know who the hell he was looking for.
"This is the one. Lucius will be SO happy to see her."
"Once you break the bastard out of prison you mean?"
Rudolphus shrugged, "If she survives that long.," he said.
The other looked at him for a long moment, "Our Lord wanted her."
"He didn't specify her condition upon arrival." LeStrange shot back, smiling that slightly insane grin again.
"You're a mad dog LeStrange. Someone should put you out of your misery."
LeStrange cocked an eyebrow, "Fancy a go?" he asked, laughing.
The other shook his head, "Tis not my place. We all have our ends and I know yours will be forth coming. I did not come with you to kill though. I won't allow it!"
"Allow it?" LeStrange asked strangely. Then the tension floated out of his shoulders, "Whatever, I'm hungry. Get the bitch and we'll go get something to eat."
-oOo-
"This is not normally something we would even touch on." McGonagall said in her usual fashion as she addressed her mixed class. Slytherin's and her own Gryffindors. Some good students in both houses and she kept herself strict with her praise and scorn for the various students. It was hard sometimes to remain neutral though. Especially with snakes like Draco Malfoy lording it around, she hated arrogance in people, in her many years she had seen plenty of it. This time though it was as if it leaked from every pore of the boy's body, in truth he was in fact worse than his father had been, and that was saying something. "The Headmaster says, and I do tend to agree, that it would be useful in these times of war for you each to have a way to escape."
Her class looked at her expectantly, all except possibly her favourite student. If she allowed herself such things, Hermione Granger, she knew where this was going and was virtually bouncing in place to contain the knowledge. Logical deduction was a rare thing in a wizard or witch and McGonagall was quite happy to nurture that in Hermione's teachings.
"So... In this class... what do you think we could teach you to help you escape a potentially hostile situation?" she asked generally, but her eyes were on Hermione.
Of course, her hand shot up. Possibly, it was wrong to give her so many excuses to shine, but nurturing was a difficult balance. It did also allow her to, in some small ways; win back points for her house, "Hermione?"
"The first that comes to mind is Animagus Transformation Professor," she said.
Minerva allowed a small smile, "Correct, 5 points Miss Granger." she cast her eyes over the class. Not real surprises to reactions, bar one. Harry was looking a little worried. Of all the people in the class, she had expected some excitement from him. As she watched though he contained whatever was worrying him, looked thoughtful and then suddenly relaxed.
The young man, as he now was, was becoming slightly confusing. His scores had shot up of late, his intelligence shining through. He did however; seem to know things he perhaps should not. There was also the way he held himself these days. Where once he was shy, reserved, and sometimes damn right broody, he now exuded pure confidence, bordering on arrogance perhaps. Yet, not there so far, she had seen the way his father had been and had worried that he was going to go through that phase too. For whatever sort of man James Potter had become, he was once an arrogant little sod with some occasionally cruel leanings. So far, to her relief, Harry was not showing those leanings. He was generally kind and generous. It was a new attitude then that made his mere presence seems to fill the room. She was not sure the basis for his new confidence but he certainly wore it well.
"Mr. Potter, can you tell me anything about Animagus transformation?"
Harry looked at her, intense green eyes spearing her to the spot for a moment. "It's an advanced form of self transfiguration. One that uses a ... animal spirit that is supposedly within most Wizards to choose the form of the final transformation."
"That is correct, apart from one thing. All wizards have a form. Though many cannot use it to change, can anyone tell me anything else germane to Animagus?" she asked.
Hermione, predictably already had her hand up. Professor McGonagall passed her over this time. Balance time. "Yes Miss Brown?"
Hermione turned a surprised look to Lavender. She rarely said anything in class unless challenged to do so. Except of course Divination or Astronomy "Animagus have to register with the Ministry", she said, blushing slightly.
"That is correct, five points." McGonagall said with a nod, "So anyone here that is successful will have to register their form, markings and species with the ministry. It costs five galleons to register and is a simple form to fill in. I have some available if such should become required. Now, what we need to do first is find your forms."
The class shifted with interest. Again, all except Harry who was looking pensive again, McGonagall filed this information away and then waived her wand. On each desk a mound of pure white clay appeared, dead centre and soundlessly. She was rather proud of that particular summoning spell. She could not just transfigure or conjure this substance though; it was rare and expensive and could not be reproduced with magic.
"This is Gongari Clay. I don't suppose anyone knows anything about this substance?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.
She got one though, from a fairly surprising source.
"It's farmed in Australia; it's the only known source for the clay. You cannot conjure it, or otherwise create it with magic or potions. Its qualities are such that any attempt will likely blow up in your face... literally. Used in conjunction with the Animagus Revello spell it will shift into the form of the casters animal form." Harry said in a faintly bored tone of voice. Though his eyes were fixed on the clay like it was about to attack him.
"Correct, 10 points Mr. Potter. Wherever did you learn that?" McGonagall said in surprise, "It isn't a widely known substance?"
Harry shrugged, "Must've read about it somewhere." The truth was that Snape was still trying to make the stuff and had, indeed, had it blow up in his face. He was not about to tell the deputy head that he had mind dumped a member of staff though.
McGonagall gave him a stern, but curious look. "Well, Mr. Potter has supplied us with the spell. The movements are thus" she said, moving her wand around in a slow fashion, then tapping it on her own blob of clay, "Animagus Revello" she enunciated carefully. Which sparkled, melted and then rose up in the form of a tabby cat, complete with markings and color. It was remarkably life like, it almost looked like it was about to leap off the desk.
"Cor" Ron said, "That's COOL"
McGonagall looked at him strangely.
Harry sniggered, "Means it's really good." he explained.
The class snickered slightly as Ron blushed to his roots.
Just then, a ghostly looking phoenix arrived in the room and hit the deputy in the head. She blinked and sighed. "Right I have to leave for a moment. I want you to practice the spell and then cast it on your clay. Then study your form closely until I get back. I will not be long. I do not want to hear about any trouble or there will be many points lost. Do I Make Myself Clear?"
The class all nodded, virtually at the same time. It was something you quickly learned at Hogwarts. There are two teachers you just do not cross. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall were not to be messed about with.
She swept from the room and for a moment, all was silent.
"What do you think you'll be Weasley, a flobber worm?" Draco drawled nastily.
"Better that than a ferret" Ron shot back mildly.
There was a group snigger at that and Draco flushed.
"I'm sure Draco will be a dragon, or something equally as noble." Pansy put in snappishly.
Hermione laughed.
"Something you want to add Mudblood?" Draco snarled.
Ron tensed.
Harry touched his arm, calming him down. "It's just a word; it has no intrinsic reason on its own. Sure the intent behind it is petty and childish, but at the end of the day. It's all just words." Harry said, in full hearing of the entire class.
Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment, and then nodded. "You're right. As to why I was laughing Malfoy... There has not been a Dragon Animagus in a thousand years or more. Most wizards cannot become a magical creature. They simply don't have the extra power."
"Are you saying I'm not powerful enough?" Draco said, eyes flashing.
"That is precisely what I'm saying." Hermione returned mildly. "Don't be ashamed. I doubt anyone here can do it either. Myself included. It's not an insult, merely a statement of fact Mr. Malfoy."
'Uh oh,' Harry thought, 'Mione has got all formal. A sure sign of trouble'
"Mudblood." Draco spat.
Hermione lifted an eyebrow at him. "That ceases to worry me Malfoy. As Harry said, it is just a word and your intentions may be hostile. It is up to me if I take you up on them though. I think we both know that I would flatten you in a fair fight," she said, her own eyes flashing. Of course, on her it was quite attractive. Malfoy had unfortunate colouring, in that he was so blonde when he got angry he went a nasty shade of red. This clashed horribly with his hair, and eyes.
"You know you're gorgeous when you're angry." Harry said with a charming smile that made Hermione flush.
"Oh boy the flirting again." Ron said with a smile.
Luckily, Harry had pitched his voice so only the three of them could hear.
"Your day will come Mudblood, you and everyone like you." Draco snapped.
"As will yours." Harry replied, turning to look at the Slytherin intently. "If by some chance you should ever actually be able to lay a finger on Hermione. I will kill you where you stand. Ron will then proceed to beat the crap out of your cold, lifeless...body"
Ron smirked, "Can't we do it the other way around?" he said, missing the look that Draco was giving Harry. He looked... scared. That had been a death threat worthy of the Dark Lord himself. In fact, all the class were looking concerned at Harry's proclamation.
Harry chuckled, his usual humour returning, "That's true Ron. We'll do it that way around instead."
Hermione was looking steadily at her two male friends, her eyes indescribable as her mind clicked along. She had been touched, but at the same time annoyed. It was as if she could not look after herself sometimes with them. Especially with the way Ron acted. She had never expected such a coolly delivered response from Harry though. It was... thought provoking. For one thing, she was pretty sure he meant every word.
Lavender Brown looked between the three of them, wondering about the way their relationship was evolving. Sure, there was some jealousy there too. After all, currently Harry was hers. Not that anyone knew of course. She herself had also said it should remain casual. Still, she wondered if he would stand up for her as voraciously as he had for Hermione.
"I think we should get on," Neville said tremulously.
The class agreed and the spell was heard from all around as they practiced the movements and pronunciation of the words.
Hermione was the first to be happy with it. She cast her spell at the strange clay and it sparkled and began its transformation.
Ron was next and his clay too became a puddle on the desk.
Soon blobs of clay were forming into forms all across the classroom.
"You know" Harry said aloud, ripping off some of his clay. "This stuff isn't just used for finding out forms."
"What else is it used for then Harry?" Parvati asked. Her sister was not the only one with academic leanings.
Harry looked around and spotted some spare clay on McGonagall shelf. An in case of emergency type of thing he guessed.
"Artists" he said, getting up and walking to the shelf, "Use this for creating living statues."
"But McGonagall cat isn't living." Sarah/Tonks said. Truthfully, she was fascinated with this class, not in her time here had they tried to teach anyone the transformation. She was actually rather curious to find out if she could, considering her status after all.
"Isn't it?" Harry said with a sexy little smile. On the way back from his desk, he pulled out his wand and walked to the sculpture of the Feline. He pointed his wand. "She didn't cast the second spell," he said informatively. "Animo Statuarius." he intoned with a weird sort of wobbly movement of his wand.
The feline jerked, then more smoothly moved into a sitting position and looked at Harry with it's head tilted.
The class went "Wow" almost in sync. Apart from a few obvious abstains.
"The Artist would normally put in some spells for controlling what it can and can't do. Instructions and the like, some statues such as this are used to protect some of the old pure blood manors. Isn't that right Draco?"
Draco grudgingly said, "I've seen something like that I admit." he said slowly. He had not had an idea how they were made though. He was only interested in the end-product after all. "Quite a few pureblood families use them; they tend to guard the gates and grounds at night."
"10 points" Harry said, smiling.
Draco went red, "You can't do that!" he said angrily, "I'll take this up with the head master" he went on.
Harry rolled his eyes, "What are you going on about Draco?"
"You can' take points from me for that!"
"No Draco" Harry said cutting him off before he continued his rant, "I GAVE you ten points."
The blonds' jaw dropped and the class was in a general state of shock.
"I expect others of Pureblood and above all wealthy families have seen them around." Harry went on. "Dormus." he said with a flick of his wand. The statue froze.
"That was wicked." Lavender said. "How do you do it?"
Harry walked back to his chair and sat down. "The spells used are a type of mind magic. You form a strong visual image in your mind," he said slapping the clay down. He turned and looked at Parvati as she had asked first. "Of course it's all about how you SEE someone. And I'm no artist so I apologize now Parv." he said with a smirk. "If this goes wrong."
Of course, the thing Harry did have on his side was an amazing control over his mind. So pulling up an image and holding it firmly there, he wordlessly cast the spell. The clay turned into a puddle and then slowly formed upwards into a vague cylinder, which then morphed slowly into a figure. Color rushed into it and then there was a tiny Parv standing in her clubbing clothes. Looking like a million galleons.
"Not bad I suppose. It takes a lot more clay for a decent sculpture," he said, self criticizing.
Parv got out from behind her desk and got close to her sculpture. She turned to him with a strange look in her eye. "Is that how you see me?" she asked in a low tone.
"I did say it might go wrong. I certainly didn't mean to offend you." Harry said quickly, completely missing her true feelings.
She shook her head, "No... Harry it is... Beautiful ... Thank you, so much." then she smirked, "Do you often picture me in a mini skirt though?"
Harry chuckled, and said in a low tone that only she could hear, "It's a very good memory. Very...intense"
"I'm going to thank you for this properly at some point," she promised him with dilated pupils.
"Come on, let me see?" Lavender said. Then peered around her friends shoulder "Wow... Parv you look great."
The class all tramped over to get a look. The consensus was that it was amazing work, though most did not get the clothes she was wearing. Harry got a great deal of ribbing because of how much flesh the model was flashing. Rumours were bound to spread like wild fire soon, but Harry honestly did not care anymore. They would die down, eventually. He just hoped Parv could handle it.
"You still haven't done your form yet though?" Hermione said with a slightly frosty tone.
Harry shot her a curious look, "So what's yours?" he asked.
"Lioness." she replied simply.
There on followed a general swapping of forms to look at and there was some amusement that Ron's form was a Lion, to match Hermione's. Harry had to admit it was interesting to say the least. It had also diverted attention from the fact that he had yet to cast the spell himself. He was somewhat worried about doing so.
In the end, he faked his own form, sort of. He randomly thought of an animal and without lowering his shields, he cast the real spell, leaving only the one image for the spell to latch onto.
Strangely enough a stag did NOT form. Somehow, the spell messed up or something. He too had a feline form apparently. He was somewhat disappointed; since it wasn't the form he was thinking of did this mean he could not be a dragon? But then, it was apparently that most did not have the power for two forms.
He looked at the sleek looking Jaguar in some confusion.
"So" said a surprising voice.
Harry turned towards Blaise Zabini with a mild expression. "Yes Blaise?" he asked politely.
"You're an Assistant Professor, correct?" the dark skinned, reserved boy asked.
"That's true, amazingly enough" Harry said with a smile.
"Then... Teach. I for one want to know more about this stuff. The Professor isn't here; please continue your lecture about the clay."
Harry looked at him in surprise. "But, you of all people should know about this stuff surely?"
"Why is that?" Zabini asked, surprised but not showing a jot of it, most of his fellow house mates were now looking at him in surprise, firstly because he rarely spoke if he didn't have something to say, and because he was talking to Potter of all people, even asking him questions. Zabini did not much care about that, he truly wanted to know more. He was not alone.
Tracey Davis was looking on with interest. She could not give a crap about the clay, but Harry had sparked her interest of late, for many reasons. Least of which was the killer prank he had pulled off at the start of term. In the two weeks since though he had not pulled another. She wanted to know why that was also.
Of course, her best friend and sometimes lover was still mad at the guy, but without some sort of real proof there wasn't much she was willing to do as yet.
"Your aunt, Capalle Zabini, she's world famous for her sculptures is she not?" Harry asked.
"That she is." Zabini allowed, somewhat surprised Harry knew anything about his family, let alone the exact connection he had to the world renown artist in the family. "I have not had the opportunity, or truthfully an inclination to ask her about her work."
Harry nodded, that made sense he supposed.
He got up and meandered to the front of the class, "Does anyone else want to know about this stuff?" he asked.
There was a general chorus of yes in reply. Blushing faintly he cleared his throat. "Ok, like I said this stuff is rare. There are about a few hundred tons of it shipped out yearly. Considering that normal clay is shipped in thousands of tons a month you can see how rare. That means it costs quite a bit to buy."
"How much for each of us do you think?" Hermione asked.
Harry did a quick mental calculation. "I don't know the current market value. This is a guesstimate but I would think about... 200 galleons each. Or there about."
There was a general intake of breath. "So that" he said nodding at the sculpture Parvati had snagged, is going to cost me a bit," he said with a smile.
"I would gladly buy this." Parv said with a smile, "Do you think the professor would let me?" she asked.
Harry considered his new status. "I say you can take it. Let me worry about the consequences, and any cost." he said with one of his new, charming smiles.
She flushed slightly.
"What else is it used for Harry?" Neville asked as Lavender shot her friend a mild glare.
"Not a lot. There are other uses of course; it has been very closely inspected. It's virtually invulnerable to magic except a few spells. Once it's fixed though it could bounce back an unforgivable with the possible exception of the AK."
Harry took a breath, amazed to see that most people were actually listening to what he was saying. He stowed his nerves and continued, "There is ONE, only one potion that it is used in. But it is pretty dark magic. The potion itself also calls for the blood of a virgin and some unicorn skin. So like I said, dark as hell."
Hermione was dying to ask how the hell he knew about it then, especially with his average abilities in potions. She held her tongue though... for now.
"There is a variant though." Harry said slowly. Not sure how much he should say.
"Really, what's that for?" Blaise asked.
"This is something I doubt your aunt would use in sculpting put it that way."
"Well, spit it out." Tracey Davis put in, causing Harry to look at her in mild surprise. The girl had never said a word to him before.
"It's called Amaratian Clay. If Gongari Clay is rare, Amaratian is virtually non existent." Harry took a breath, "Okay... Who can tell me what a golem is?" he then smirked, "Not you 'Mione" he said with a wink at her. "Anyone else?"
"It's a form of earth elemental" Daphne finally spoke up.
"Good, ten points to Slytherin." Harry said. "Anyone knows HOW they are created?" he said looking at the stunning blond expectantly.
She glared back at him with her ice blue gaze, but relented. "They are called from the ground itself. A practitioner of Elemental magic can then use it to fight for them, for a set time. About 5 minutes I believe."
"Another 10 points." Harry said with a wild smile, "Do you know why they only survive that long?" he asked, curious. The blond shook her head.
"Because to call them up the elemental mage has to use part of his life force, and a good burst of power, have you seen one at all?" he asked, in general.
They all shook their heads.
"Nor have I, but I've read they are about 6 feet tall and 4 wide. Amazingly nasty fighting skills, but more brute force then anything else, RPG's have been using them for years by the way." he added the last with a smirk. Only a few got it, and those were all Muggle born. "Okay, well Amaratian clay can create a permanent golem, like the sculpture I showed you earlier, they can be animated. Their instructions are then placed on specially created papyrus, in runes and put in the things skulls. They are... without doubt. One of the truly unstoppable creations in the world, without proper instruction they well lay waste to just about everything around them. It takes a fair bit of the clay to create them too. Unless you want one half an inches tall."
"Is that it?" Draco asked, "A golem. What's so bad about that?" he sneered.
Harry just smirked, "The two clay's are very similar Draco, so think about it, virtually immune to most magic. Physically incredibly strong and driven by the makers sole instruction. The muggle born will know of something called a tank. Ask one about it. Then factor in the fact that they are virtually indestructible."
Like Draco would ever ask a muggle born anything. It was fun to do though, try to get him to ask a 'Mudblood' anything. Harry was hoping his curiosity would eventually get the better of him.
"The last Golem to be formed, strangely enough, is the very thing that mines the white clay." Harry told them.
The bell went and Harry was in a bit of a quandary, he quickly spoke up though. "Don't forget your forms and two feet on your form. List its strengths and weakness as well as drawings and ... anything else you can think of," he said quickly into the rush. He wondered if anyone would take any notice of him. He WAS an assistant professor though, could take away and assign points and if needed give homework. They should surely realize that.
"Why should we?" Draco asked.
Just then, Professor McGonagall walked in the door. "Because I say so Mr. Malfoy. You would not want to loose points by not returning your assigned homework. I would remind you that Mr. Potter is in fact an assistant professor, and has the right to assign homework and use the points system."
Draco sullenly walked away.
The class emptied, but Harry stood in place. He had a free for one thing, and secondly he was ready for a lambasting for hijacking McGonagall's class.
"I'm sorry professor. They asked me to fill them in... So I did." he said worriedly. Then added, "How long were you out there?"
"I was only five minutes in my task," she said with a thin smile. "I have to say Harry I am impressed with the depth of knowledge you have on the subject. Also at the way, you handled the class. In fact I am particularly proud of the fact you assigned points to Slytherin."
Harry blushed slightly, "She deserved it. It was only fair."
"Indeed it was. I also am amazed at you giving points to Mr. Malfoy." Minerva said with a slight nod and smile. "However, that is neither here nor there; you realize you know more about either Amaratian or Gongari clay than I. I'm curious to know how?"
"I've just picked it up, here and there." Harry said carefully. "I've been doing a lot of reading lately and strangely enough about some rare substances."
"That statue you did for Miss Patel was quite a work of art.," she added conversationally. Then she looked at him straight in the eye. "I understand you are on the Auror track?" she asked, seemingly unexpectedly.
Harry nodded, "Yes Professor."
"I would like to convince you to think about teaching as an alternative choice. You are on much the same track, but it would require some college and university as well. It's a rewarding career," she told him. Then smirked ever so slightly, "However it isn't the best paid job in the world, But then money isn't a problem to YOU is it Harry." she said sardonically.
"I'll think about Professor." Harry said after some thought, "I have to admit I quite liked teaching, this year and last. The paper work sucks though."
Minerva laughed slightly, "I see Severus has introduced you to the less interesting side of our profession."
Harry laughed too, "Indeed he has, he's had me marking the first through third year's assignments, and I never realized how bad hand writing could be. Though I do hope I was never so... strange about some of my answers."
McGonagall just quirked an eyebrow at him, "I seem to remember someone saying that transfiguration would make a good long term prison arrangement."
Harry laughed, "Well, I was stumped; and you have to admit it could work."
"Turning criminals into small rodents and placing them in a run would indeed save space, but still..." she said trailing off with a reserved laugh.
Harry smiled at her, then, "Do you really think I could?" he asked, his meaning obvious.
"I'm certain of it. You have the gift. Your own personal style of teaching will come in time; the nerves never really go away though. You see ..." she paused then, thinking of her phrasing. "You can learn from a book. What you get though, in most cases, is information. Your job as a teacher is to impart knowledge. There is a difference, as I hope you can see. It is difficult to explain properly. As a teacher you're not only telling people how to do something, your imparting the knowledge of when that should be used, the whys and wherefores of the thing." she looked a little confused at her own words.
"It's okay... I get it, I believe I do anyway." Harry said, "But I can also see it's hard to explain" he added with a smile. "I will truly think about it. I don't really want to spend my life hunting down criminals and dark lords. I really just want to have a life," he said, becoming a little quiet at the end.
She laid a hand on his shoulder, "That's your right Harry; don't let anyone take that away from you."
"Thank you Professor" Harry said, pushing aside his dark turn of thoughts. "I'll leave you to your next class. Again, sorry I hijacked this one." he told her with a laugh.
"Have a good day Harry," she said. Letting him leave, as he reached the door she stopped him, "Harry... Do not forget your form, and yes... even though you gave it out. You too have to do the homework."
Harry laughed, grabbed his Jaguar and left the classroom. Then reappeared, "Actually professor, there is one other thing..." he said
-oOo-
"Dean!" Harry said that night, catching his dorm mate's attention.
The young man turned at his voice. He was on his way back to the dorm to do some drawing. Something that usually people knew not to interrupt, so he was a little surprised and annoyed that someone was, even if it was Harry. "Yeah?" he asked as Harry caught up to him.
"Can I have a minute mate?" he asked, "In private?"
"Sure" Dean said with a shrug, starting back to the dorm. Expecting Harry to want to talk there, instead Harry virtually dragged him off on a completely different course.
"One of the perks of being me now" Harry said with a smile, "Is being able to take over a class room if I want to."
Dean laughed, "I saw that earlier mate," he said.
"No, what I mean is... the actual space." Harry said, leading him into a large classroom. Obviously, it had been empty for some time, but at one time, the use was immediately obvious to the artist.
"They used to teach art here?" he asked, amazed.
"About a hundred years ago, yeah" Harry told him. "I had to ask the Headmaster about this place. Got you permission to use It." he added.
"Really?" Dean asked, a little confused, "why would I do that. I mean I'm mostly a sketch artist."
"I know. I also know that you're planning on doing something with art after school and that you're thinking that you'll have to leave the Wizarding world to do it." Harry explained. Then he took a breath and led the other person into the centre of the room. "I wanted to show you that, you don't have to if you don't want to. I was going to ask Blaise to pitch in here, but apparently, he does not know as much as I thought he would. Though he did say that he would talk to his aunt on your behalf"
Dean was more than a little surprised at this. On two fronts, one that Blaise – Pureblood – Zabini would want to do anything to help a muggle born. In addition, that Harry knew the guy well enough to ask anything of him. Especially since, he was a Slytherin
"I expect she'll get back to us. In the meantime, you remember what I was going on about in class today?"
"Yeah sure, sounded interesting, but I'm not a sculpture artist."
"Ever tried? Ever wanted to?" Harry asked. Throwing off the sheet over a large pile of white clay
"Shit, where'd you get all this?"
Harry ignored him and grabbed a blob from the pile. "The doorway will have a password on it by the way. I will teach you it if you are interested. In the mean time, come here." Harry said, plopping the clay down on an empty desk, a strangely clean one at that.
"The spell is simple" Harry said and went on to teach the other Gryffindor the spells needed and how to cast them and the idea behind it all. "Strangely enough" Harry began to conclude, "Erasum resets the clay unless it's set with the other spell I just taught you."
"But I mean, I can't ... I mean there's so much."
Harry pulled off another sheeted pile of normal looking gray clay. "This is for practice. But I want you to try something with this bit now."
"Harry, mate, how..."
"You know the spells and as an artist, and a good one at that, you are blessed with a vivid visual mind, all you need to do is truly picture what you want to create in your minds eye. Hold that thought as tightly as you can and cast the spell. This is why not many can do this. You have to have the artist's eye and that mind set to be able to create forms. The other spell for the Animagus form is a special case. I believe in you Dean. So go on, give it a whirl."
Dean was stunned, but pleased with Harry's words and decided that if Harry believed in him then it was worth a go. In addition, there was not a lot of the special clay in front of him, so if he did mess up it would not be so bad. Moreover, he could erase and start again. He brought up the image of the piece he was currently drawing. A humming bird in flight, it was a difficult piece due to the motion involved. For this, he imagined the bird sat on a branch. Focused like crazy and then finally cast the spell. He did not dare open his eyes.
Harry gasped, "Mate... Jesus man open your eyes, take a look at what you've created-" he said in amusement and awe.
Dean opened his eyes and a smile spread over his face. "Holy shit!" he said still smiling widely.
"That is truly awesome work" a voice by the door said.
Dean spun round and looked in shock at the head master. The Headmaster was someone that he had never had the occasion to speak to in fact.
"I hope you don't mind Harry, Mr. Thomas. I was curious to see what you would create. I have to admit that is some of the finest work I have seen in a long time. You could give Capalle a run for her money with work like that," the elderly man said in an earnest tone.
Dean flushed. "T T Thank you sir." he stammered slightly.
"I promise you young man, that I mean every word. You were quite correct Harry."
"But sir" Dean said slowly, "There's so much and Harry told us how expensive it is. I can't possibly use it.," he said in a bit of a rush.
"Nonsense, we at Hogwarts have a supplier that charges us below market value. We have quite a stock pile as well since we haven't used what we had for about a 100 years." Dumbledore paused, "It is such a shame the board at the time decided it was not important enough to teach anymore. There has been quite a decline in artists since that time in England at least. The magical sort that is."
"This clay is also used in the paint used for portraits like the Fat Lady," Harry said. "I don't know how to make that though. I promise to find out though Dean."
"I can't thank either of you enough. Because Harry was right, I thought I'd have to leave the magic world to follow my heart and do art." Dean said honestly and slightly emotionally. "I didn't want to you understand, but it seemed the only way."
"I will personally contact Capalle Zabini" Dumbledore said, "I think she would be willing to come to Hogwarts for a fee and teach you and other interested students," he said glancing at Harry at the word fee. Harry nodded almost without moving.
"Really?" Dean said with excited tone and eyes.
"I'm almost certain of it. Not long ago she and I talked about the decline of art in the Wizarding world in England. Which is one of the reasons she currently lives in France" Dumbledore replied.
"Wow, thank you. And Harry mate, I owe you one." Dean said with a smile.
"Think nothing of it mate, I'd hate to see you leave because you didn't realize just how much we need someone with your skills. Art is a balm to the soul; people can look at it and loose themselves for a while. Be transported into the artist's imagination, or the scene that has been created. Just for a while, be connected to something bigger than they are. I think that's important, especially with the ugliness of war at hand."
"I couldn't have put it better Harry," Dumbledore said, looking intently at the black haired boy.
Harry shook himself a bit, "Anyway. I'd like to see more, for now you've got to fix that for prosperity."
"Did you fix Parvati?" Dean said with a slightly teasing grin.
"What has this to do with Miss Patel?" Dumbledore asked with slight amusement.
Harry refused to flush, but it was creeping down his neck anyway. "I Erh... may have used some of the clay to show the class how to do some art. I did Parv... Dean! I didn't mean it that way!" Harry said.
Dean was still sputtering with laughter. "Oh I say you did her alright. I do not know why you are on at me though, when you obviously have talent yourself. All that time you have seen me working and talked to me about it. You've never said you could do art."
Harry shook his head sadly, "I can't. Normally, it's a bit different with the clay though."
"Please, do, explain Harry" The headmaster asked curiously. He would be quite interested in seeing this for he actually, "In fact, please do show me."
Harry rolled his eyes, "Thanks mate!" he said in an aside to Dean who merely smirked at him in reply.
Harry grabbed a glob of clay and smacked it down on another desk. "A repeat or something else?"
"Do Hermione," Dean said.
'Chance would be a fine thing' Harry thought to himself smirking.
"Now who's the perv?" Dean chuckled. "Besides you know the subject well and have plenty of images of her. So it makes the perfect choice. Though we'd, for your sake, better make sure she's not dressed for clubbing or something." Dean added with a laugh.
Dumbledore lifted a white eyebrow at this, wondering mostly how Harry would know what Miss Patel looked like in clubbing gear. Whatever that actually entailed.
Harry sighed, paused a moment as he trawled through his memories, found an image and cast it.
A bust of Hermione soon appeared in place of the blob of clay.
"That IS remarkable" Dumbledore said, "I also did not realize you had artistic talent."
"That's really good mate."
"It's a memory, nothing more. YOU can take something, change it and create the image. I have to use my memory. Because of certain factors, I can do this. However, I cannot do anything else, say draw her or anything. Only because of the clay can I form any sort of image?" he said giving Dumbledore a meaningful look.
The aged man nodded in understanding, though that did also raise many questions that he was fairly certain he would not get an answer for. Such as when had he seen Parvati Patel the way described? As far as he knew, Harry was not that close with other members of his house other than the two remaining of his triad.
"Erasum" Harry said with a wave of his wand. The clay reformed into a glob.
"What did do that for Harry, it was good." Dean asked.
Harry shook his head, "It was rubbish. You're the artist here mate, trust me on this." he gave a meaningful look at the near perfect humming bird. It was perfect down to each individual feather and the texture of the branch upon which it sat.
"Indeed, you're a talented young man Mr. Thomas. It will be my, in fact the schools, pleasure to nurture that as much as possible. Allow us to try to do so I beg of you."
"Erm... Yeah of course." Dean said with a little embarrassment.
Harry grinned at him. "Glad to hear that mate. This classroom has just about everything in it you will need until Miss Zabini can arrive. I will find out how to convert the clay from somewhere. Unless you know Professor?"
"Alas, I do not. Capalle will of course. In the meantime I believe we have various colours in stock."
"I've always wanted to have a crack at painting," Dean admitted.
"Portraits take a bit more work than just painting them with special paint though mate." Harry put in, "The subject has to carry about a specially made 'soul stone' that soaks up their magical signature and personality traits and all that stuff. Then it is broken down and included in the special paint. The artist then creates the portrait and when the last stroke is laid down, it comes to life. You don't activate it like the sculptures."
"Okay mate, I'll stick to landscapes for now," Dean said with a grin.
"I'm impressed Harry on your depth of knowledge."
"I honestly read all about this stuff in the library." Harry said. It was true, the bit about the portraits he had learned in his free period earlier that day. It was just he knew the various properties of the clay's from professor Snape's knowledge.
"So Harry, you've not got me any of the other stuff then? I quite fancy an unstoppable body guard." Dean put in with a laugh.
Dumbledore looked at Harry sharply, and very intently. 'How in the world!' he asked himself. Quickly diverting his attention, he was too late; Harry noticed the look.
"Wouldn't we all mate?" Harry said with forced cheer.
"I'd like to speak with you in my office Harry, at your earliest opportunity". The headmaster said, gravely. This was bad; this was in depth knowledge of the dark arts. This could be the first sign...
Harry nodded, "Now is fine sir." he said.
Dean looked between the two with slight worry. There was a strange sort of atmosphere building up between them.
"The password is Leonardo, okay mate." Harry said, following the elder man through the door.
"Sure Harry, Sure. Thanks again" Dean said, worried for his friend, but soon loosing himself in his new work.
-oOo-
Professor Dumbledore looked over his half moon spectacles at the dark haired young man before him. "I must know Harry... Where did you find out about so much information about true Golems?"
"I read about it in the library sir" Harry lied glibly.
"That information is NOT in Hogwarts library." Albus said sternly. "You MUST tell me the truth."
Harry was not about to give up that information. He would never hear the end of it. It was also verging on bad.
"You have a worrying familiarity with dark arts. You also have an in depth knowledge of subjects that you should not have. No one your age has had time to read THAT many books Harry. Don't take me for a fool. You have a new teacher don't you." This was an accusation, not a question Harry realized. He did not like the slant the professor was putting on teacher either.
"What you think Voldemort has been nipping round to give me lessons?" he asked sarcastically. Nevertheless, was stunned to realize that was EXACTLY what the elder man was thinking.
Suddenly there was a tickle in his mind.
'That old bastard' Harry thought. He traced the intrusion as he allowed, more directed, the tendril of thought into his mind. He put up a mental construct and the world faded for them both...
Albus Dumbledore looked around in confusion at his surroundings. It was not often he was taken by surprise, but this was certainly a new one for him.
He was standing in an elaborate living room, not too dissimilar to the Gryffindor common room in appearance, though there was not quite such an explosion of red and gold. There was a roaring fire off to the side, and two high backed chairs.
Suddenly a head appeared from the side of one of the chairs.
"Take a load off Professor" Harry said, with no trace of humour in his expression. In fact, he looked quite angry.
The aged professor took the other chair and looked at his pupil. "I'm impressed with the fortitude of your defences Harry. I am sorry, but I must know."
Harry looked at him, "I'm not turning into another Dark Lord. I very strongly dislike the fact you think I am. Or that I would allow my parents Murderer to teach me anything." he said firmly.
"I understand that Harry, but still there is much unexplained knowledge you have suddenly gained."
"Severus Snape had a crush on my mother. I would go so far as to say she was the love of his life. At one time, he brewed a powerful love potion to slip into her food. Then found he could not do it. He did not want a slave; he wanted my mum to love him. Soon after that, he allowed his bastard of a father to sign him up with Voldemort. He knows more about potions than anyone alive." Harry said.
"I'm unsure how you know that."
"Except... now me. Voldemort loved but once in his life. A three-legged dog from his orphanage, it died shortly before YOU picked him up and took him to Hogwarts. He is dyslexic. Hates oranges and thinks the world should burn." Harry went on to say. "He knows more about Dark arts than anyone alive. His teacher was Grindlewald himself. He despises you for killing him, and thanks you at the same time for freeing up the position of Dark Lord." Harry went on calmly.
"How?" Dumbledore said flabbergasted.
"Your sherbet lemons contain a very mild truth serum, except the ones you pick. Your brother is not in fact worse than you are and has never actually done anything with a goat. It was a practical joke gone horribly wrong. Something you have yet to admit to him. I think you should by the way." Harry went on to an increasingly stunned headmaster.
"Coming in here with the intent to steal comes with a price since I created this place." Harry said looking around, "I'm quite proud of the place actually. This is only a copy mind. I couldn't let you into my mind."
"Price, what price"
"You tried to extract knowledge from me... So I take yours." Harry said with a nasty glint in his eye.
Dumbledore looked panicked.
"Takes a while to sort out actually, but I know everything Voldemort and Snape know. Now I know everything you know." Harry went on to tell him.
"No, Harry you must not!" Dumbledore said forcibly terminating the connection between them.
The world span back into focus and they were both looking drained.
There was silence; Dumbledore studied the young wizard with some fear in his eyes. He was not scared of Harry, more for Harry. For what he might now, know. He just hoped that he had terminated the connection in time.
Harry's eyes suddenly flashed emerald fire. He shot to his feet and the air around him began to crackle with wild magic. A visible aura appeared and Dumbledore knew that he had in fact been too late.
"You unmitigated BASTARD!" Harry raged.
"Well I say... Never in my day... How dare you" emitted from various portraits.
"Shut the FUCK UP!" Harry yelled, causing them all to freeze with a wave of his hand.
"Harry..." Albus began.
"You lied to me!" Harry said in a low, dangerous tone.
Albus felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.
"Harry it was for your own good."
"MY OWN GOOD?" Harry yelled sarcastically, "You faked the memory you showed me. Didn't you think I would find out the rest?"
"The memory was true." Dumbledore said.
Harry narrowed his eyes, unfocused for a moment then nodded, "That's true I suppose. You could have told me the second prophesy at the same time though. Do you get off on fucking up my life or what?"
"Now Harry, this was honestly for you own good. What do you think would've happened if I told you the rest, then of all times?"
"I'm not sure. But I know you weren't intending on telling me ever!" Harry steamed, "Don't you think I had a RIGHT to know that? That and the fact that prophesy is NOT immutable?"
"Do you WANT to know Harry? Do you truly?" Dumbledore asked sadly.
"I think it's important to know something like that. No wonder your mind leapt to the conclusion it did." Harry bit out slowly. "I could never become him." He said quietly. "I'll never be a dark lord."
"I believe you Harry. I fear for that day, but I don't believe it will happen."
"It won't bloody happen that's all. I won't fucking kill him."
Dumbledore blanched, "But you must." he sputtered.
"Why should I? If it means by his death I will take his place. Why should I then kill him? What fucking good would it do?"
"Because you would never become a Dark Lord." Dumbledore said surely.
"You weren't that sure a minute ago." Harry pointed out. Leaning forward and resting his knuckles on the desk, glaring right into the mans periwinkle blue eyes. "So quit the lying to me thing, huh?"
"I'm sorry, but in this case I'm not lying. You have just found out that I have partaken in the betrayal of your trust. Yet I remain sat here, in good health. Your magic is enraged, ready to kill me. Yet my Phoenix there is standing watching calmly. In fact went to your side once." Dumbledore shook his head. "The clues have always been there of course. It was not until just now that, I put everything together though. Track through the memories you took from me Harry. Find the third part."
"WHAT!" Harry raged, "There's MORE!"
Dumbledore nodded, "There is."
"Save me the trouble and prove that you can tell the truth. I WILL be checking later." Harry gritted out.
"The third and final part of the prophesy came two years after the death of your parents, it states that there is one that can defeat the dark lord and NOT take his place, it states there is a source that can defeat you both."
Harry frowned, sat down and crossed his legs. "I am the source," he said simply.
"Yes, I've just worked that out for myself." Dumbledore said with slight amusement, "It isn't what you could call common for a wizard to have a visible aura. When they are, they do NOT crackle with pure power. I do not know much. I did some research after Sybil finally ended the prophesy, I didn't find out a lot, as you will no doubt find out for yourself."
Harry smiled thinly. "Dragons" he said.
"I'm sorry?"
"You talked to the wrong people. Dragons could've told you."
"One does not converse with a dragon, usually one runs when a dragon is close enough to converse with." Dumbledore said wryly.
"I was at Gringotts on the day of the will reading. I spoke to one of the dragons guarding a vault. Thisilar was very helpful, didn't know much himself. A story passed from mother to child for a thousand years." Harry told him. "Oh if you're wondering HOW I managed that, one I stopped him dead, second dragons speak Parselmouth."
"Indeed," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "How intriguing. Thankfully Voldemort doesn't appear to know this."
"That's correct." Harry said, "I am fairly sure I could circumvent him if he finds out though. I really need to visit a large free colony such as the one Charlie works at. Get the word out as it were."
"Well when you gain your form no doubt you will be able to visit."
"A Jaguar can't fly."
"I wasn't talking about that form." Dumbledore said with a slight smile.
Harry allowed a thin smile. "So, you're satisfied that I'm not going to be the next dark lord now."
"Harry, you have to allow that the chances of you being not only the chosen of Voldemort AND the source talked about were thin to say the least. I had to exercise caution did I not? Surely with the knowledge you have ... acquired... you realize that I only had the greater good in mind."
"I'm curious," Harry said after a slight nod, "What you were going to do if I DID turn into the next Dark Lord."
"Don't you already know?" Dumbledore said sadly.
"Yes, but I want to hear it from you."
Dumbledore reached down, slid out a drawer, and retrieved its contents. "This potion," he said holding up a small vial, "is the single most poisonous substance ever made. It is in fact the very opposite of the Philosopher's Stone. It will kill ANYTHING, even Voldemort, no matter what the prophesy says."
Harry looked gravely at the other man. "Just how the hell were you planning on getting it on me?"
"I was going to drink it, enter where-ever you were and quite simply bite you."
"Crappy plan, sir."
"Or I could ... use someone else. But I preferred to do such a thing myself."
"Not what I meant. What makes you think you'd survive long enough to ... deliver it?"
He reached into the drawer below the one he had just used, "This," he said holding up a familiar looking chunk of crystal.
"Dear sweet god in heaven." Harry said, "You complete idiot. You've had that HERE in your damn drawer where Voldemort could get at it at any time?"
"Indeed, it has never been anywhere but this drawer. It is keyed to my personal signature though. I am the only one that could take it from the drawer. The wards are tied to Hogwarts itself and have the same reserves of power available to them. It's as safe as possible."
"You said you destroyed it!"
"That one I did. Nicholas was tired of life anyway. This I made myself."
Harry laughed, "Interesting. It did say you worked with the only KNOWN maker of the stone."
"Indeed."
"You're a crafty old bastard Headmaster, and don't think I won't be pissed about this for sometime to come, but I have to admire your balls."
"I'm hoping that has a different connotation in the Muggle world." Dumbledore said carefully.
Harry laughed, "It means bravery if you like."
Dumbledore smirked
Harry laughed again, "But then you already knew that didn't you?" he asked still laughing. "I'm shocked Headmaster at the depths you will sink to in order to get a laugh. However, like I said, I have not forgotten and I have not forgiven. Even if I understand why you did what you did."
"That, I think, is all I can ask." Dumbledore said, "And I will forgive you for the theft." he added
"I'd prefer keeping that tit bit of knowledge to us for now. It's a useful skill sir."
"Indeed, somehow though it feels like cheating don't you think?"
Harry laughed, "Now if only I could get Professor Flitwick to try Legilimens on me?"
"I think you'll find all you need to know about charms in your mind. I must ask. How does it work? Is the knowledge instantly available, or does it appear when you need it to?"
"It takes a while to... file... actually. I have to study it closely to make it truly useful. This is why I know so much about Arithmancy and Runes now I found Voldemorts connection was seeping dark magic into my system…" Harry trailed off, "my god, that's how it would've happened isn't it."
Dumbledore nodded, "If indeed you are being soaked with dark magic then we still have cause for concern."
"I've dealt with that actually." Harry said. "I created a mental ward over the inside of the curse scar. A purifying ward turns dark magic to untouched. After that it mixes with my core and is tainted again for sure, but hopefully to a whiter version."
"Fascinating," Dumbledore said, his hand scratching his chin. "I've heard of such wards of course, they are generally used for purifying an area from evil spirits and the alike. There is in fact one in place in the Chamber of Secrets now. The rotting of the Basilisk you killed and the pure poison leaking out of it was causing us some problems."
"Yeah, that's were I got the idea. Well not THAT exactly, I didn't know you were doing that. But the general use for that sort of warding. That I knew."
"Where did you gain that knowledge? Just as a matter of interest."
"Voldemort, actually, when WE eventually attack his HQ, we're going to need Bill in a big way, his entire team would be better though. Voldie knows his ward schema."
"Oh drat." Dumbledore sighed. "Is there anything else I should know?"
Harry laughed, "Get comfortable Headmaster, we're in for a long chat."
-oOo-
Tired, emotional and a little pissed still, Harry walked into the common room at close to midnight. He had told the headmaster as much as he could that was germane to any attack they may do. That and some of the more esoteric rites that the scaly dude had done.
Dumbledore and he had then tossed a few ideas back and forth about Voldemort himself. Harry had insider knowledge and the knowledge of the headmaster himself in his head. It was unsorted and chaotic still, but Harry was able to give a unique insight into the Dark Lord via all his knowledge.
Dumbledore was a learned man, very much so in fact. He still had not organized his mind like Harry and was not Harry, meaning that Harry was able to look at things from a very different view than the man himself. Refreshing the ideas, Dumbledore himself had thought of over the years.
Harry knew he was going to be in for more of the same, and fully intended on spending the night in his construct sorting and filing. That way he would at least be able to make head and tail of the information he had gained. Luckily, time in his head was not like time on the outside. Thought was a much speedier thing than the real world. He still needed to get some rest first though.
Unfortunately, he might not get the chance.
"Hello Harry. I was wondering where you were. Who were you with?" Lavender asked a slight tone of accusation in her voice.
"Professor Dumbledore. What are you still doing up. If you're waiting for me, my darling, I'm sorry but I'm way too tired tonight."
Apparently, this was NOT the right thing to say. "Is that all you think of me?" She demanded, getting to her feet and facing him with flashing eyes.
Harry narrowed his eyes at her, "What?"
"For the last two weeks we've done everything but actually get down and fuck. Every night we go to that place and have our 'fun'. Is that all you think of me, Harry?"
"Keep your bloody voice down!" He shot back.
"So it is, and you're ashamed of me to boot." She spat in a low dangerous tone.
"Lav, I've had a long day and a hard time tonight. I don't want to argue with you on top of that."
"Tough, Potter, I want to know what that was all about today? Think you could just come onto my best friend and I wouldn't be suspicious?"
"Keep. Your. Bloody. Voice Down! And what the hell are you on about. When did I crack onto Parv?"
"Oh, that statue thing, you don't think that was at all... I dunno... wrong?"
"Huh?"
"Okay, why not me then?"
"Why not you what?"
"A statue of me? Why not me?"
Harry quirked a grin. "My strongest memories of your pertain to our 'private' time together. I didn't think for a minute you'd want all the boys in our year to know what you looked like naked."
"So THAT IS ALL YOU THINK OF ME!" She virtually roared.
"That's it!" He said and grabbed her arm. By time she had wrenched it away they were in their personal playpen.
"Brought me down here for a quick one, have we?" she asked and started to disrobe. "Tell you what, just get on with it then, since it's so obviously all you want from me."
"Stop!" Harry said, "It was YOU, you that wanted to keep us casual was it not?"
Again, not the right thing to say, "Take me back!" She demanded.
"Not yet, I want to know what's going on."
"If you don't already understand Potter I'm not telling you."
"You used to call me Harry," he said wiping a tired hand down his face.
"I used to think you were a good man," she said venomously.
Harry looked at her sharply. "I wasn't cracking onto Parv," he said in a low tone. "Even if I was, you have no leg to stand on."
"What makes you say that?" she demanded dangerously.
"I'm not the only one that flirts in this relationship," he told her. "There's no harm in flirting."
"I don't flirt," she said imperiously.
"Ron." Harry said simply.
Lavender narrowed her eyes at him. "Been spying on me, have we?"
"I just walked in; you were virtually on his lap at the time. Poor guy would've gone red if his blood flow wasn't south at the time." Harry said off handed.
"Are you calling me a tart?" she snarled.
Harry blinked, "Urm... No. But if the shoe fits, Lav."
WHACK
The air crackled dangerously. "You didn't want to do that," he said in a low tone, one that sent shivers of fear down Lavender's spine.
"Oh, I did." she said, biting back her fear. She went to do it again.
Harry almost lazily reached out and caught her wrist. "I wouldn't suggest doing that again Lav.," he said in a normal tone, despite the fact his eyes were as hard as ... emerald.
She snatched her hand back, rubbing her wrist slightly. "You hurt me."
Harry looked contrite for a moment, and then got angry. "For fucks sake, you're whining about a slight pain from your wrist when you just HIT me?"
"I'm a girl." she said, tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry I hurt you Lav. I tried not to. But it's hard to not cause some pain when catching a FAST MOVING OBJECT!"
She winced back away from him. "She won't fuck you," she said suddenly.
"What, who, what are you talking about!" Harry said in exasperation.
"Parvati, she's got class, which is more than I can say for you!"
"I'm not chasing Parvati, Lav." Harry said, trying to make her see reason. "Even if I was... Why do you care?"
"I don't. Not anymore. I've got a date!" she said.
Harry blinked. Her mercurial train of thought was driving him up the wall. "But aren't you mad at me for even looking at another girl. Yet you're telling me now that you are going on a date? Double standards, perhaps, just a fricking little bit?" Harry shot out.
"We're Casual. I'm going to do as I please." she spat.
"Fine!" Harry said throwing up his hands. "Do what you like I don't care. I thought you were going to go out with me for a while. Then you are all 'Let's being casual Harry. I couldn't be your girlfriend' which just so happens is very fucking insulting. Then you are mad at me for making a sculpture for Parvati, thinking I'm trying to seduce her or something. Which is just bloody insane, and by the way. Who was egging me on that first night to snog her?" Harry took a breath, but did not let Lavender get a word in. "Now! Now you're bloody well telling me you're going on a date. Guilty conscience? Is that why you lashed out at me first? Don't you think I would've just been fine with it in the first place? For God's sake, Lav, you are your own woman. See who you like, see me if you want, don't if you don't. Just don't go picking a fight so you can make ME into the bad guy. I am honouring YOUR arrangement, Lav. Not the other way around."
Lavender did a guppy impression at him. Then she got pissed again, "You're a one, aren't you. Happy up there on your high horse are we?"
Harry just rolled his eyes. "Oh great, off we go again," he muttered.
"It's Ron," she said unexpectedly.
Harry stopped dead, "What?" he said in a low tone again. The air suddenly filled with the promise of violence.
"It's Ron. He asked me today, and after seeing you all over Parv. I said yes to going to Hogsmeade this weekend with him."
"Don't do this, Lav. Not Ron." Harry said shaking his head.
Lavender got a slightly nasty smile on her face. "Aren't I good enough for him or something? Fine for the Great Harry Potters play thing, but I am not good enough for his friend?"
"That's not what I mean. You are getting into the middle of something you do not want to be Lav. You could get hurt."
"Is that a threat?" she asked, virtually snarled.
"No, it's a prediction, you're fond of those aren't you Lav."
"Only my friends call me that, Potter."
Harry studied her steadily. "Put some clothes back on Lavender, you cease to amuse Me.," he said in a nasty tone. "Stay the hell away from Ron, I can't afford for you to be getting in the middle of THAT."
Lavender was putting on the clothes she had managed to remove, while being angry and hurt. Apparently, she was right all along. He only wanted her for her body, and now he was tired of her. However, at the same time she realized that it was mostly her own fault. She had just pushed the wrong button. However, she did want to know what the hell she was supposedly getting in the middle of.
Harry tossed the rune stone at her. "Press the rune at the top and it will take you back."
"I wonder if people would like to know about Potter's Love Palace." She asked, tossing the rune stone back and forth between her hands.
Harry smiled slightly, "I'd hoped I was wrong, but apparently not. This place is protected Lavender. By ancient and powerful wards, only a Parselmouth can find it with out that stone. Which by the way will cease to work in..." he glanced at his watch, "Twenty seconds."
She looked panicked at him for a moment, then angry, and then resigned. This had gotten weird in a very short time and she had no one to blame but herself for that. "I won't tell anyway." She whispered and activated the rune stone.
Harry watched her go with sad expression on his face. He had not done it in fact, but an expression occurred to him that seemed to fit.
"Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned." he quoted.