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SIYE Time:23:44 on 28th March 2024
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Hail Odysseus
By Brennus

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence/Physical Abuse
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 370
Summary: After believing that Harry Potter died in a house fire at the age of ten, the Wizarding world is shocked when he returns out of the blue, just in time to attend his seventh year at Hogwarts. They're even more shocked when he's Sorted into Slytherin.
Hitcount: Story Total: 119977; Chapter Total: 7144
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
So, why do I think I’m going to get a storm of protest after the end of this chapter? Never mind, I’ve got my tin helmet on and the bunker is built.

Thanks to Arnel for beta reading and her persistence in looking up the word ‘jacksie’. Yes, America, it does mean what you think it does.




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Chapter 7 — Come, Death, Come…



The three men all crowded around Bathilda’s bed, all wearing matching sorrowful expressions. Gellert leaned over and smoothed back the old woman’s thinning hair.

“Gelli, is that you?” she croaked in a feeble voice.

“Yes, Auntie, I’m here,” he replied, the emotion thick in his voice.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, “and little Harry, is he there, too?”

“I’m here, Auntie,” Harry said quietly, “and Sirius, too.”

“All my boys,” she whispered. “All my sweet, sweet boys are here.”

For a second, it seemed that Bathilda was going to drift off to sleep, but her eyelids gradually opened and she blinked, as if trying to focus.

“I’m so glad you came back to me, Gelli,” she said in a trembling voice. “I was so worried about you after you ran away. They said such dreadful things about you, you know.”

“And most of those things were true, remember?” he replied gently. “Don’t you remember that I went to prison for my crimes?”

“Oh, yes, I remember now,” she said absently. “You always were such a rascal, you know. Your poor parents virtually despaired of you, but I knew there was a kind heart beating within that chest of yours. You always were my favourite nephew.”

“And you were always my favourite relative, bar none,” Gellert told her with a smile. “You always had time for me when no one else did. Without you, my soul would have been damned a long time ago.”

“You’ll look after young Harry, won’t you?” she begged in a slightly panicky voice. “The poor boy has such a difficult journey ahead of him. Promise me you’ll look after him.”

“I will. I promise,” Gellert told her solemnly, taking her frail hand.

“You’re a good boy… so good…” she trailed off.

“Bathilda?” Gellert said cautiously. He put a gentle hand to her cheek and then turned her wrist over, seeking a pulse. He found none.

“Is she gone?” Sirius asked reluctantly.

“Yes, she’s passed on,” Gellert replied with a sigh, before laying her hand across her chest tenderly.

“Can’t we do anything?” Harry asked, sounding close to tears.

“She was extremely old and very sick, Harry. It is a mercy to let her go,” Gellert told him sadly.

“Merlin, I’m going to miss her,” Sirius said quietly. “She really was a saint.”

“Indeed , without her I would have probably ended up treading a path considerably darker than the one I chose, which is saying something considering my long list of crimes,” Gellert noted. “I owe her everything. Even when I came to her as escaped convict with a famous boy snatched from his home by my side, she didn’t turn me away. She truly was a most wonderful woman.”

By now, Harry had tears running down his cheeks. “What are we going to do without her?” he demanded shakily.

“We carry on, my boy,” Gellert told him firmly. “Death comes to us all eventually, as that is the way of the universe. Without death, our lives on this planet would be meaningless. One day, hopefully a long time from now, you will meet Bathilda again in some far distant place, just as you will meet your mother and father again. Remember Bathilda warmly, and keep her in your heart, Harry, but do not mourn for her overlong, because that is the last thing she would have wanted. Death is the natural order of things, and the one thing that unities all men.”

“Not all men,” Sirius disagreed bitterly.

“Indeed, and that travesty against nature will need to be dealt with soon,” Gellert agreed. “Come, let us go into the other room a while and let dear Bathilda sleep in peace. I feel the need for a strong drink.”

“Yes, I agree,” Sirius said, before reaching over and gently stroking the old woman’s hand. “Rest easy, Bathilda, my dear. You gave me a home here despite of everything, and I’ll always love you for that.”

He turned and slowly left the room. Harry, his emotions running high, just grabbed her other hand and kissed it once, before practically running from the room. Gellert watching him go, before turning and once again gently stroking his Great Aunt’s hair.

“I’ll keep him safe, Bathilda,” he promised, “even if it costs me my own life.”


HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HPHP

Walking along a quiet corridor the next day, Harry caught the scent of a familiar person. Taking a swift left turn, he walked down a set of spiral stairs and found Tracy Davis waiting nonchalantly at the bottom. She smirked at him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Boy Who Lived, himself. Fancy meeting you here,” she said teasingly.

Harry smiled as he approached her. “You’ve been talking to Ginevra, haven’t you?” he asked, figuring that would have been the only way that she would have known he would find her down here.

“Oh, you know us girls, we do so love to gossip,” she replied. “So, I take it Draco hasn’t tried anything yet?”

“Not as yet,” he confirmed. “I can’t believe that idiot actually believed that terrible pass you made at me was for real. I’m glad to see you’ve wiped all that muck off your face, by the way. You really don’t need it.”

“Oh, what a sweet thing to say,” she grinned. “Although I am disappointed you didn’t play along. Just think of the fun we could have had, all with Malfoy’s approval, too.”

“That was the bit that I didn’t like. I refuse to do anything that little prick actually wants me to do. Besides, I genuinely thought he would get suspicious if I caved in to that act you pulled. Are you actually telling me that he thought that was a genuine attempt at seduction?” Harry asked in an incredulous voice.

“Draco expects all witches to act like sluts,” she shrugged. “If Pansy Parkinson is your main frame of reference, you tend to get a distorted idea of what women are actually like.”

“What exactly does he see in her?” Harry asked curiously. “I mean, she’s a vicious little bitch and she’s not the most attractive person in the world, is she? I saw that girl you said Draco’s betrothed to the other day, and she’s a million times better than Parkinson. Is Draco genuinely in love with Pansy, or something?”

“Love?” Tracy snorted. “The only person Draco loves is himself. I tell you why he keeps Pansy about: she’ll do absolutely anything for him! She’s a grade ‘A’ slut who will perform any act for her darling Draco, no matter how degrading. Plus, I share a bedroom with the girl and I have to admit she’s got quite a nice body, one she’s quite willing to share, too.”

“Really? And here was me thinking this was a school. I seem to have walked into a brothel by mistake,” he snorted.

“You’d certainly think so sometimes. Draco likes to keep it quiet, but most of the Slytherin upper years know that he, Pansy and Blaise are fond of having little threesomes together,” Tracy grinned evilly. “Many are the time I’ve seen Parkinson come down to breakfast walking bowlegged AND finding it uncomfortable to sit down, if you get my drift. Mind you, I’ve seen Zabini sitting down a bit tenderly, too, a few times. I guess Draco’s not too worried about where he sticks it.”

“Wow,” Harry said, a little surprised at the level of depravity that existed at Hogwarts.

“You have to remember, Draco Malfoy has ruled the roost here for years. What he wants, he gets. You put that power in the hands of a perverted little teenager like him and anything can happen,” Tracy informed him bitterly. “Of course, there was a tradition of ‘breaking in’ young witches within Slytherin long before Draco got here, but he’s turned it into an art form.”

“Have you…” Harry began.

“Don’t ask about my experiences here, Potter,” Tracy interrupted angrily. “I did what I had to just to survive, and I won’t let the likes of you judge me.”

“I wasn’t trying to judge you,” Harry told her calmly. “I was just trying to understand what you’ve been through.”

“Yeah, well, as I told you, being a half-blood does at least mean that a lot of boys wouldn’t touch me, but not all of them. I was a fourth year when one of the seventh years at the time decided I needed to be broken in,” she told him regretfully.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said simply.

“It happens,” she shrugs. “The bastard wasn’t exactly gentle with me, but I got off lightly compared to some.”

“What about Ginevra?” Harry asked suddenly. “Has she had to go through this crap, too?”

Tracy’s eyebrow arched. “Still interested in the lovely Miss Weasley, are you? No, Ginevra is something of an exception within the House, but she’s had to fight for it, tooth and nail. By her third year, she had boys lining up to be the first to have a crack at her. Unfortunately for them, her eldest brother is a curse-breaker and taught her all sorts of nasty little spells. She’s been vigorously defending her honour ever since, as the number of Slytherin boys that have had to visit the hospital wing will testify.”

Harry nodded. For some reason, the fact that Weasley had managed to protect herself made him feel better.

“So, how are we going to play it from here on?” Tracy asked. “You realise that it might be a good idea to let Draco think I’ve managed to seduce you? Hell, if you’re a good boy I might actually do it, just to give the whole thing extra realism, of course.”

“Of course,” Harry agreed with a smirk. “The trouble with that plan is that Draco will then expect you to lead me into an ambush, or order you to try and stab me in the back, or something.”

“Yeah, but at least we’d know when he was going to make his move that way,” she pointed out.

“Maybe, but what happens when it doesn’t work? If Malfoy even suspects that you’ve tipped me off, he’ll be vicious, and I can’t always be there to protect you,” he replied.

“I guess,” she agreed, although didn’t look total convinced. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to wait for him to spring his ambush, and then I’m going to kick his arse,” Harry grinned confidently. “I’ve fought off attacks from fully-fledged Death Eaters, so Draco and his little gang don’t worry me too much.”

“Don’t underestimate him,” Tracy warned. “He’s received loads of extra training, most of it in the Dark Arts. He might be a cowardly little shit, but he’s a sneaky bastard, too. Try to stay away from deserted places and keep your guard up, okay?”

“Oh, Miss Davis, you do care!” Harry smirked at her.

“You’re fairly easy on the eyes, and you do have a cute little arse. I’d miss looking at it if anything happened to you,” she shrugged.

Harry laughed and turned to go.

“Oh, and Potter? If you do change your mind about the whole seduction thing, do let me know. I’m sure I can arrange… something,” she purred.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Davis,” Harry confirmed with a wink.

He climbed back up the stairs and headed to his next class, all the time wondering why the hell he hadn’t accepted Tracy’s offer.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HPHP

As it turned out, Malfoy made his move the very next day.

Harry was just leaving the Great Hall after breakfast, when a scared-looking second year Slytherin boy rushed up to him clutching a note. Harry took it from him and looked at it suspiciously. The note said that Professor Sprout wanted to talk to him in greenhouse six as soon as possible.

The fact that it was a Saturday immediately put him on his guard. Why on earth would Sprout want to talk with him on a weekend? The fact it was the Herbology teacher was suspicious, too. Sprout often missed meals in the Great Hall simply because she spent so much time in her greenhouses, a fact well known to most students and therefore something that could potentially be used to someone’s advantage. Still, the note appeared authentic, and the handwriting certainly looked like Sprout’s.

Deciding he had no choice, Harry started to make his way towards the greenhouses. The fact that his route would take him through a lot of corridors that would probably be deserted on a weekend was not lost on him. He patted his wand, which was safely tucked up his sleeve, and remained vigilant. Getting over to the greenhouses would involve crossing over a lot of open ground, but he was more worried about the dark corridors he had to traverse before he got to that point.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, his keen ears heard the sound of scurrying footsteps behind him. A moment later, he caught the scent of hair oil and expensive aftershave from somewhere ahead, the smell being carried by the frigid air that circulated around the ancient castle. He was walking into an ambush.

Taking a couple of quick steps forward, he darted into an alcove set into the wall. Once out of immediate sight, he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, followed by a Silencing Charm. Once he was invisible and could move in complete silence, he stepped forward and looked back the way he’d come. After waiting a short while, he saw a flash of a face as it briefly peered around a corner before vanishing again. A few seconds later, the face reappeared, revealing that it was Theodore Nott who was following him. Nott had a worried expression on his face, and appeared to be highly concerned that he couldn’t see him. The boy hurried forward, and Harry stepped back to let him pass.

Once Nott had jogged passed the spot where he was standing, Harry hurried after him. They carried on down the corridor before they reached the small hallway that led to an outside door, normally the quickest route to the greenhouses. As they reached the hallway, Nott stopped and quietly called out.

“Where’s Potter? Have you seen him?” the rat-faced boy asked nervously. A second later, Draco Malfoy’s head appeared from behind a suit of armour that was situated there.

“What the hell are you doing, you idiot?” Malfoy hissed. “Potter will be here any second!”

“But I was right behind him,” Nott protested. “He should be here by now. There’s no other way he could have come.”

“Bollocks!” Malfoy swore, and leapt out from behind the suit of armour. A second later, he was joined by Parkinson, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle, who had all hidden behind various objects or had lurked just outside the door. They congregated in the middle of the hallway.

“He can’t be far away,” Parkinson protested. “Do you think one of us had better go and see if he found another route to the greenhouse?”

“Yeah, if he’s already talking to Sprout then we can try and get him when he makes his way back. Nott, you go and check, okay? Zabini, you double back and make sure he hasn’t just turned off somewhere. Don’t be longer than five minutes, though, we’ll need you here when Potter makes an appearance,” Malfoy instructed them.

Harry was surprised; it appeared that Professor Sprout had indeed summoned him, and somehow Malfoy and his gang had found out about it. Still, now was not the time to speculate about how that happened, he needed to strike while they were all in one nice, tight little group. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small cylindrical object. Pulling out the pin that was attached to it, he counted three seconds and threw it at the group of Slytherins, before turning his back and covering his ears.

The device exploded. Although it was designed primarily to produce a blinding flash of light and a loud noise, in the confined space of the hallway its effects were amplified. The results were devastating.

Harry stood, a little shaken by the force of the stun grenade, even though he’d been prepared for it. Malfoy and his gang weren’t so lucky. All six of the Slytherins were rolling on the ground, most holding their heads and moaning. Crabbe seemed to have caught the worst of the blast, and his face was bleeding profusely. Wasting no time, Harry sent a Stunning Spell into each of them, leaving them unconscious on the floor. Although they had probably been temporarily blinded, he wasn’t taking any chances. He then searched each of the inert bodies until he found their wands, before snapping them and dropping them into a neat pile.

As he started to make his way out the door, he noticed Parkinson’s skirt had ridden up, revealing a lot of very shapely leg. Tracy had been right; the girl did have a very attractive figure. Deciding to have a little fun, he knelt down beside her and gently lifted up her skirt, revealing lace-trimmed, red panties. Quickly, he hooked his thumbs around the waistband and slid them down her shapely thighs and over her feet, admiring her neatly-trimmed black bush as he did so. He then pulled her skirt back down and shoved the liberated knickers into his pocket. Parkinson was going to have something of a mystery on her hands when she woke up. Smirking, he left the building and headed towards the greenhouses, which were situated about fifty yards away.

After locating greenhouse six, Harry entered and immediately heard the sound of rather tuneless humming. Making his way along a row of wooden tables laden with boxes of seedlings, he located Professor Sprout busy re-potting a large plant with spiky green leaves and purple flowers. Noticing his arrival, she stood and frowned at him.

“Ah, Mr Potter, you’re here at last. While I’m aware that it’s a Saturday, if I request the presence of a pupil of this school, I do expect them to come and find me in a timely fashion,” she scolded him.

“I’m sorry, I got delayed,” he replied blandly. “May I ask why you’ve summoned me on a weekend? If this is some sort of disciplinary matter then surely my Head of House should also be attending.”

“Well, it’s not exactly a disciplinary matter… yet. Whether that changes very much depends on what you have to say for yourself,” Sprout said stiffly. “Tell me, Mr Potter, do you know a girl named Michelle Chambers?”

“Michelle? A second year in your House? Yes, I know Michelle. Nothing’s happened to her, has it?” he asked in concern.

“Would you care to explain how you know this young lady?” Sprout demanded.

“I met her and her friends on the Hogwarts Express. We shared a compartment together and they were very helpful in telling me all about the school. Later, I caught a group of Slytherin boys trying to intimidate them and broke it up. Why do you ask?” Harry said, looking at the small, grubby teacher intently.

“I’ve recently had to discipline Miss Chambers for attacking one of her fellow pupils,” Sprout explained. “The poor girl was merely sitting chatting to her friends, when Miss Chambers, completely without provocation, attacked her. Later, when I questioned Miss Chambers and inquired why she did it, she just repeatedly stated that that the group had been telling lies about you. Now explain to me, Mr Potter, why a twelve-year-old girl, in a different House from you, should feel the need to viciously attack one of her Housemates merely because she was gossiping about you. What exactly is your relationship with Miss Chambers? Do I need to get her parents involved in this, perhaps?”

Harry bristled at the implication of Sprout’s words.

“As I stated, I’m very fond of Michelle. She and her friends have been extremely friendly and welcoming to me, which is considerably more than can be said for a lot of people at Hogwarts, both staff and pupils alike,” Harry said sternly. “If, however, you are suggesting that there is some sort of physical relationship between the two of us, then you are very much mistaken.”

“Am I indeed?” Sprout huffed. “I have heard several people say otherwise.”

“So, am I to understand you are accusing me on the strength of some common room gossip? Because if you are, Professor Sprout, you need to be very careful,” he spat. “I would remind you that I’m the head of an ancient and wealthy house, and I would take any accusation of impropriety with Miss Chambers as a direct slur on the honour of House Potter. Perhaps you would like to detail your evidence against me in front of the Wizengamot?”

“Do not take that tone with me, Mr Potter!” Sprout raged. “The pupils I overheard making the accusations against you are also from worthy families, and whom I trust implicitly.”

“Oh, and would one of these ‘worthy’ people happen to be Susan Bones?” Harry sneered.

“Who it was is of no concern to you, Mr Potter. The fact remains, accusations have been made and you cannot deny that Miss Chambers seems completely enamoured of you! I want the truth!” Sprout yelled angrily.

“You want the truth? Fine, I’ll tell you the truth: you’re getting involved in political games that clearly you have no understanding of. As you are no doubt aware, I recently came out in the press in support of our current Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. That has immediately put me at odds with his most ardent political rival, Amelia Bones. I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you the relationship between Amelia and Susan Bones, do I? Amelia has been using her niece to try and discredit me from the moment I stepped through the doors of Hogwarts,” Harry snapped. “This rubbish being circulated about Michelle and me is just another example of that.”

“Ridiculous,” Sprout snorted. “Amelia is a fine woman, and would never resort to such underhand tactics.”

“You really are naïve, aren’t you?” Harry laughed bitterly. “Amelia is first and foremost a politician, and such tactics are second nature to her. From what I gather, Susan is looking to follow in her aunt’s footsteps, and bringing shame on me and thus indirectly on the Minister would be quite a feather in her cap.”

“I don’t believe it,” Sprout declared adamantly.

“I don’t care if you believe it or not, but I will say one thing to you; be very careful about what accusations you make against me. You have absolutely no proof of wrongdoing on my part, and I am quite willing to give a binding Magical Oath that I have not had sexual relations with Miss Chambers,” Harry stated. “I would also suggest that you might want to rein in some of your pupils, too. I will take aggressive legal action against anyone I find making such unwarranted accusations against me, or, if I feel the situation requires it, I will demand a Magical Duel. Have I made myself clear?”

“Quite clear, Mr Potter, and I would also like to state that if I do discover any truth to these rumours, I will not rest until you are safely imprisoned in Azkaban. Am I clear?” Sprout snarled.

Harry took a couple of steps forward until he was practically nose to nose with the witch. He looked unflinchingly into her eyes.

“Don’t make me your enemy, Professor Sprout,” he snarled in a low voice. “You’re playing games beyond your wit or intelligence, and you’re going to get your fingers burned if you keep doing so. Just pass on the message to Bones that I know what she’s up to, and unless she wants to face me in single combat, she’d better keep her big mouth shut. Got it?”

Without waiting for an answer, Harry turned and stalked out of the greenhouse, leaving a flustered and angry professor in his wake.

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“I don’t bloody believe it,” Harry raged as he stormed into the Room of Requirement.

Ginevra, who had been relaxing in a comfortable chair whilst reading a book, looked up at him in surprise. “What’s happened now?” she asked.

“That grubby little cow Professor Sprout virtually accused me of paedophilia!” Harry spat, his face red with anger. “It appears some of those pissing Hufflepuffs have been starting rumours about Michelle and me, and that fat piece of excrement believed them!”

“Well, that little minx did offer to spread her legs for you,” Ginevra smirked, before balking at Harry’s enraged expression. “Okay, okay, it was just a joke! I heard you tell her that you weren’t interested in her like that.”

“Yeah, but stupid comments like that won’t help the situation,” Harry growled.

“I’m sorry,” Ginevra told him earnestly. “But how did the ‘Puffs get wind of the fact that you even know the girl? Did she say something?”

“Nah, Michelle heard one of Bones’s little band of followers spouting shite about me and hexed the bitch,” he explained.

“I’m starting to like this little Hufflepuff minx. She sounds like a girl after my own heart,” Ginevra grinned. “So, how has this been left? Have you been accused of anything?”

“No, for the very good reason that Sprout has no evidence of any wrong-doing other than the idle chatter of a few gossiping bitches,” Harry pointed out. “I made it quite clear to her that I would take any unfounded accusations very seriously. Anyone who wants to make up lies about me will either find themselves being sued or facing me in a duel.”

“Neither very attractive options,” Ginevra noted. “You might well have to make an example of someone, though. Most of the ‘Puffs are born gossip-mongers, not to mention a bit thick. They probably won’t get the message until one of them is lying bleeding on the Duelling Arena’s floor.”

“I suspect you’re right,” he sighed. “Well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Are you ready for your next lesson on becoming an Animagus, Miss Weasley?”

“I am indeed, Professor Potter,” she smirked.

“Good. I do like an attentive and willing pupil,” he smiled before taking a seat next to her. “Right, what we’re going to do today is the basic building block of becoming an Animagus. Have you been visualising your wolf like I instructed you?”

“All the time,” Ginevra confirmed. “In fact, I can’t get the image of her out of my head. I know I said initially that I wanted to become a bird of some kind, but this is much cooler. I can really identify with the thought of becoming a wolf, you know.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t. It was your own subconscious desire that picked a wolf to be your form, after all,” he pointed out. “Now, you’ve told me that you’ve already been practicing trying to change your form, but without a specific animal in mind, and that will be useful. What I want you to do firstly is to enter your meditative state. Transforming for the first time is much easier when you’re completely relaxed. Once you’ve managed to change that way, we’ll work on doing it instantaneously.”

“Okay, that sounds logical,” she agreed.

“Now, I have to warn you, Ginevra, that it will probably take a long time for you to achieve your first transformation,” he informed her. “It takes a lot of practice for you to be able to build up a complete image of your animal in your mind, and then harness your magical power to effect a change into that form. Don’t become discouraged if you don’t achieve anything the first time, or the hundredth time for that matter. It’s just one of those things that you have to keep persevering at, I’m afraid.”

Ginevra nodded, but didn’t look very happy with the idea. Harry could understand her impatience, as he’d been exactly the same.

“Right, find your safe place, Ginevra,” Harry instructed.

The girl closed her eyes and concentrated. “Okay, Potter, I’m in my wood, lying by the river,” she informed after a few minutes. A peaceful expression was on her face.

“Excellent, now, what I want for you to do is imagine your wolf standing right in front of you. Try to include every single detail of the animal that you can, right down to the smallest hair. Can you do that?” Harry asked softly.

“Yes, I… oh! She’s right there. She’s so beautiful!” Ginevra gasped.

“You’re doing really well,” Harry praised. “Now what I want you to do is merge the image of your wolf with your own body. What’s really important here is to totally accept the presence of your animal and welcome it to you unreservedly. Be prepared to subjugate your own form in favour of it. Become one with your wolf, Ginevra.”

Ginevra frowned for a second, before a look of determination came onto her features. A few seconds later, her body shivered and she let out a gasp.

“You felt that, did you?” Harry noted. “That’s a really good sign, Ginevra. That means your body has recognised your other form. Hold the image and try and force your will into it.”

“Harry, I… I can’t seem to keep the two images overlapping,” she moaned in frustration.

“It’s a very hard thing to do. Just keep trying,” he urged.

“I can’t seem to… gah! I lost the image,” she groaned and opened her eyes. She looked bitterly disappointed at her failure. Harry, however, was staring at her in wonder.

“Ginevra, look at your hand,” he gasped.

She looked down and let out a surprisingly girlie shriek. The back of her right hand was covered in reddish-brown fur.

“There’s no way that you should have been able to do that on your first attempt,” Harry told her in astonishment. “It took me months to get to that stage, and I was told I mastered the transformation faster than anyone in recorded history!”

“But this is exactly what I’ve been trying to do for the last two years,” she protested. “This is why I’ve been so frustrated; I’ve been convinced that I was about to change, but nothing ever happened. I knew I was close to achieving something.”

“Well, congratulations,” Harry laughed. “You’ve managed to make your first partial transformation. Quite how you managed it after approaching the whole process arse over tit, I have no idea!”

“I don’t play by the rules,” she replied smugly. “Now, how do I change back? I’m likely to get a few comments if I start walking around covered in hair.”

“You do exactly the same as you did before, but give your human form priority,” he explained. “Don’t panic if you don’t manage it, though. Without the image of your wolf firmly implanted in your mind you’ll just revert to your natural form in a few minutes. Half an hour, tops.”

Ginevra closed her eyes once again and, sure enough, within five minutes the hair on her hand began to vanish.

“Did you manage to transform yourself back, or did you just revert naturally?” Harry asked.

“I think I just changed naturally,” she admitted. “But that was great! I’ve made more progress in a couple of days than I have in the last year and a half.”

“You’re doing incredibly well,” he agreed. “Continue at this pace and I think you’ll manage a full transformation within a few weeks.”

“Brilliant,” she beamed, before wiping her brow. “It’s bloody hard work, though. I’ve only been at it ten minutes and I’m knackered already.”

“Forcing an Animagus transformation is incredibly hard, at least until your body becomes accustomed to changing,” he agreed. “I think we’d better stop now. Trying to do this while you’re tired is very dangerous.”

At first it looked like she was going to argue, but then appeared to change her mind. Instead, she sat back in her chair and looked at him intently.

“So, I heard that you had a bit of an altercation with Malfoy and his gang. How did that go?” she asked.

“Yeah, I… wait a minute. How did you know about that? I looked in on those bastards as I made my way here and they’re still lying where I left them. How could you possibly know that I’d clashed with them?” he demanded.

Ginevra smirked at him. “You can’t expect a girl to give up all her secrets, can you?”

“This is linked to how you keep managing to sneak up on me, isn’t it?” Harry insisted.

“Let’s just say I have a means of being able to monitor the castle and track people’s movements, and just leave it at that, shall we?” she replied in an infuriating tone. “That should keep you on your toes, anyway.”

“Great, I have an invisible spy following me about now, do I?” Harry growled.

“Oh, get over yourself,” she replied irritably. “I have better things to do than watch you all day. Still, it’s worth remembering that if you get up to no good, I’ll probably know about it.”

“I’m a Slytherin; surely I’m supposed to be up to no good,” he pointed out with a faint smile.

“Very true,” she agreed in an amused tone. “What do you think Draco will do now, then? His big ambush might have failed, but I can’t see him just giving up.”

“Actually, I suspect he’ll be totally harmless for the next few days, as what I did to him will probably leave him deaf for that long,” Harry informed her with an evil grin. “After that, I’m not sure. Tracy seems to have a pretty good eye on him, so hopefully I can expect some warning from her if he tries anything else.”

“I hear Tracy made you another offer for you to seduce her, but you turned her down again,” Ginevra noted. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like blonds, or something?”

“Nah, I have no special preference regarding hair colour. A girl could have purple hair and it would make no difference to me. I just feel that if I start shagging Davis on Malfoy’s instructions, it will compromise her. From that point, Draco will be expecting either information about me that’s actually useful, or he’ll want Tracy to take direct action against me, herself. Either way, when Davis doesn’t deliver, Draco will get mad and she’ll probably end up getting hurt.”

“So, is that the only reason you’re not giving her one? That you’re trying to protect her?” Ginevra asked calmly.

“That and I’ve only known her a short while. In my position, you don’t risk getting intimate with someone unless you know and trust them completely. I’d hate to be happily banging away and suddenly find a wand pressed against my neck,” Harry replied coolly.

“Very wise,” Ginevra agreed. “I’ve managed to ambush a few couples I’ve had grievances with while they’ve been getting down and dirty. I’m just a bit surprised to meet a boy who doesn’t actually think with his dick.”

“No, I reserve it for much better uses,” he grinned. “Do let me know if you ever require a demonstration.”

“Are you flirting with me, Potter? Didn’t Davis warn you about what happened to the last boy to try that?” she replied, although she looked more amused than angry.

“Oh, yes, but I’m not stupid enough to try anything funny with you. I can clearly see that you’re a witch to be reckoned with, and wouldn’t do anything to get myself in your bad books,” Harry informed her.

She looked him approvingly. “You are a smart boy, aren’t you?” she smirked.

“I’m still alive, which must prove I’m not totally stupid,” he laughed. “I suggest we pick this up again on Tuesday. Is the same time okay with you?”

“Fine,” she replied, sinking back into her chair and picking up her book again. “Close the door on your way out.”

Harry walked to the door, but halted just short of it. Looking back, he saw Ginevra engrossed in her book and apparently not watching him.

“Oh, Ginevra? If you do decide you want a demonstration of my capabilities, do let me know,” he called out cheekily.

Ginevra didn’t look up from her book once. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said simply.

Harry walked out the door, noting the smug grin on her face when she’d replied.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Four days later, Harry received another request to visit the Headmaster’s office. Frankly, he was amazed the man had taken so long to arrange another meeting.

As he made his way up to the office, Harry mused over what would be discussed. Professor Snape had been the one to inform him that Dumbledore wished to speak with him, and had warned him that the old man had deep reservations about him and his behaviour since arriving at Hogwarts. Forewarned, Harry approached the meeting cautiously.

“Ah, Mr Potter, do take a seat,” Dumbledore greeted him warmly as soon as he entered the office.

“Thank you,” Harry replied politely, sitting in the chair indicated. “What is it that I can do for you?”

“Oh, I just wanted to have a friendly chat,” the old man smiled magnanimously. “I just wanted to find out how you were settling in here. I understand there was some unpleasantness on the day you arrived?”

“Yes, and I believe Professor Snape dealt with the matter adequately,” Harry replied blandly.

“A most regrettable incident, I’m led to believe. I was particularly distressed to here that a number of prefects were present at the time and did nothing to stop the altercation. That is most concerning, and I’ve asked Professor Snape to speak to those concerned sternly,” the Headmaster informed him.

“Indeed, he said something similar to me,” Harry confirmed. “He also said he would also speak with Draco Malfoy to ensure there was no repetition of the incident.”

“Poor Mr Malfoy has been under some strain lately,” Dumbledore said sympathetically. “No doubt the shock of discovering his father was a Death Eater has unsettled the young man, and Lucius’s subsequent imprisonment must have come as a terrible blow. I’m afraid you will have to forgive Draco for his somewhat rash actions but, taken in that context, they are somewhat understandable.”

“Of course,” Harry agreed, secretly seething inside. It was clear to him that Dumbledore knew exactly what sort of person Draco was, but was unwilling to do anything about it. No doubt the boy’s attitude was at the very heart of his ‘divide and rule’ plan.

“He’s certainly having a rough time of it, at present,” Dumbledore continued. “Were you aware Mr Malfoy and several of his friends were hospitalised for a number of days recently? Apparently, they were conducting a Potions experiment which went badly wrong, and caused an explosion that left them all deaf for several days.”

“As you can imagine, I’m not particularly close to Draco and his friends, so I was unaware of such an incident,” Harry replied, amused that Draco was blaming his predicament on a Potions accident.

“Shocking business,” Dumbledore noted. “Still, it does bring up a matter that I wanted to discuss. You do seem to be struggling to make many friends within the school, Mr Potter. Is there any reason for this, do you feel?”

Ah, nice turn around, Harry thought. “Well, I do understand that a number of slanderous rumours about me having been making the rounds,” he replied, deciding to grasp the bull by the horns. “It appears that I can’t even hold a conversation with a second year girl without scandalous accusations being made against me.”

“Yes, Professor Sprout brought that matter to my attention,” Dumbledore nodded. “I took the liberty of speaking directly with Miss Chambers, you know. While I’m most disappointed by her aggressive behaviour, I would note that you’ve made a very favourable impression on the young lady. I understand that you warned off a number of boys from your own House who were acting in a hostile manner towards her and her friends?”

“That’s quite correct,” Harry confirmed frostily, infuriated that Dumbledore would interrogate Michelle.

“While I do understand your desire to protect the young and innocent, I would ask that in future you bring such incidents to the attention of the proper authorities,” Dumbledore reprimanded him lightly. “I’ve received a number of letters of complaint from the boys’ families upset that they’ve had to replace their children’s wands. One family, in particular, was incensed at the loss of what was an old and valuable heirloom.”

“The destruction of those boys’ wands was purely accidental,” Harry lied, “but I would suggest that if they don’t want any similar unfortunately occurrences, they should stop trying to bully other pupils.”

“Granted, and their actions are why I’ve chosen not to take any further action regarding this matter, but I must stress that if you discover any further incidents of bullying that you alert either the nearest prefect or a teacher. Is that clear, Mr Potter?” the Headmaster said sternly.

“Quite clear,” Harry replied simply. Any further discussion on the matter would be counterproductive, he suspected.

“Good, I’m glad we understand each other,” Dumbledore smiled pleasantly.

“So, is anything going to be done to curb these rumours?” Harry pressed. “When Professor Sprout discussed them with me, without my Head of House being present I would add, she seemed rather inclined to believe them. I was rather disappointed that such a senior member of the teaching staff would make accusations based only on an unsubstantiated rumour.”

“Now, I’m quite certain it was not Professor Sprout’s intention to accuse you of anything, Mr Potter,” Dumbledore said dismissively. “I’m assured she just wanted to broach these rumours with you before there was any escalation. In those circumstances, I can quite clearly understand why she would choose not to involve Professor Snape. I have, having now spoken to Miss Chambers, assured her that there is no substance to any of these foul rumours.”

“Will she be taking any action against the perpetrators, then?” Harry demanded.

“Professor Sprout has promised to keep her ears open for any further innuendo or gossip, and will deal with the people responsible accordingly,” Dumbledore assured him.

In other words, nothing would be done, Harry realised. Ginevra’s assertion that he would have to make an example of one of the Hufflepuffs was looking more and more likely.

“I trust she will,” Harry said in a controlled voice.

“I’m glad that matter has been put to bed,” Dumbledore agreed. “Well, this has been a most useful discussion, Mr Potter. I do hope we can chat again soon, hopefully regarding more pleasant subject matters. I hear that academically you are performing superbly in all your chosen subjects, and I wanted to congratulate you on that.”

“Thank you, Headmaster, that’s appreciated,” Harry smiled, standing to leave. As he did so, he took an exaggerated look around him. “You know, I do enjoy being invited up here, sir. This is the most remarkable room you have up here. I could spend hours admiring your collection of books and magical artefacts.”

“When you get to my age, my boy, you’ll find that gathering a large assortment of such possessions is unavoidable,” he chortled. “I do have a rather fine collection of rare books, if I do say so myself.”

“Indeed,” Harry agreed, casually wandering up to the nearest bookcase. “Is that really a first edition copy of ‘Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration’? That must be quite valuable.”

“Oh, yes, it is, indeed. I’m afraid the school’s copies of the later editions have been somewhat defaced, so naturally I keep this copy under lock and key. Should you wish to peruse this copy, however, do let me know,” Dumbledore said warmly.

“That’s extremely kind of you,” Harry replied with a grateful smile. He continued walking along the bookcases until he found what he was really looking for. He could almost imagine the smile sliding off the Headmaster’s face when he realised what he was looking at.

“What’s this book, then, sir?” he asked, pointing to a black diary that was resting in a glass display case. “This looks like a plain diary, although the name on it, T.M. Riddle, that sounds strangely familiar to me. Who was this person?”

“Oh, no one of any great significance,” Dumbledore said dismissively, although Harry was sure he could detect a hint of underlying frustration in the man’s words. “Riddle was one of Hogwarts’ Head Boys back in the forties. Unfortunately, the book itself has been rather corrupted, and I keep out of the way.”

“Probably for the best,” Harry agreed. “While I think about it, you don’t happen to still have any of my parents’ things, do you?”

“Not that I recall, but I will have a search through my things to see if there are any items that slipped my memory,” Dumbledore promised with a polite smile. Harry felt his jaw clench. He was certain the old bastard knew exactly to what he’d been referring, but had chosen to keep his options open as to whether he returned the item or not.

“Well, I shouldn’t take up any more of your valuable time. I look forward to our next chat, Headmaster,” he said, having decided that further conversation would be useless. Besides, he’d achieved what he’d set out to do here.

“As do I, Mr Potter,” Dumbledore agreed, nodding benevolently.

Harry left the office, struggling to stop a triumphant grin from appearing in his face. He really couldn’t believe that the old man had been so arrogant as to openly display a Horcrux in his office, particularly as he knew Harry was visiting that day. Still, he wasn’t going to complain. Should the diary now mysteriously ‘reappear’ in the hands of some unsuspecting pupil, Harry would have the perfect excuse for recognising it. He had the distinct feeling that he’d just managed to shoot holes in one of Albus Dumbledore’s misguided schemes. He hadn’t really expected the old man to just hand over his father’s Invisibility Cloak, but he was still hopeful that he might be able to get it back, one way or another.

Humming happily to himself, Harry walked back to the Slytherin common room.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPH P

For once, Harry was having a good day. It had been a full week since his conversation with Dumbledore, and things had been mercifully quiet.

Two days previously, Michelle had managed to corner him. In an excited voice, she informed him that several senior Hufflepuffs, including Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan, had been pulled into Professor Sprout’s office earlier in the week. Since then, the gossiping and general bad-mouthing of Harry had reduced markedly. He had warmly thanked the small girl for her support of him and given her a quick kiss on the cheek. He’d succeeded in holding in his laughter as she turned bright red and practically sprinted away.

Malfoy had also been keeping his nose clean and, indeed, had seemed to be going out of his way to avoid Harry completely. That was a situation Harry was more than happy with, and he made no attempt to antagonise the blond boy or his followers. He did keep a watchful eye on Pansy Parkinson, however, and was beginning to see what Tracy had meant when she’d talked about the dark haired girl’s figure. Parkinson really did have the body of a goddess. Shame she had the face of a Pit Bull, and a personality to match.

Tracy was another Slytherin girl who could boast of a divine figure, and, on Draco’s misguided encouragement, she had resumed her campaign of seduction with Harry. This time, he wasn’t so outwardly dismissive of her efforts, and they had been flirting outrageously with each other. Harry was still having trouble believing that Draco accepted that her efforts were legitimate, but he had to admit that some of the things that came out of Tracy’s mouth were hilarious. Utterly filthy, but still hilarious.

Today, however, he was graced with a different female presence at the dinner table. Ginevra had decided that as a precedent had already been set, eating with him occasionally wouldn’t draw undue attention. Between this revised attitude, and Tracy’s campaign of seduction, it meant that he had company during meals at least once a day. It was amazing what a difference it made to his morale, having an attractive witch to talk to occasionally.

Ginevra’s Animagus training was moving along rapidly, too. Harry’s prediction that she would achieve a full transformation within a few weeks looked to be on schedule, and the redhead was now to the stage of being able to change individual limbs to animal form. He’d been especially impressed when she’d sprouted a tail, although he had nearly earned himself a hexing when he laughed a little too loudly at her revised look.

The girl in question was currently sitting opposite him, rapidly demolishing her dinner at a fearsome pace.

“Where do you put it all, Weasley?” Harry asked in amazement as Ginevra speared another slice of beef and dropped it onto her plate.

“All my family are the same,” she shrugged. “If you think I can eat, you should see my brother, Ronald. He practically needs a shovel to get all the food in his mouth quickly enough.”

“Aren’t you worried it will all catch up with you one day?” he persisted. “I mean, at the moment you have a wonderfully trim figure, but aren’t you afraid that once you hit thirty you’ll balloon?”

“I doubt it. I think it’s something in the Weasley constitution that keeps us thin. My mother is a bit on the dumpy side, but I think that has more to do with having seven children than her diet. Even after her third kid, Percy, she still had a knock-out figure, I’m told. I think it was having the twins that changed all that,” she informed him with a smirk. “Personally, I’m damned if I’m having more than three children. If I ever get to that number, my husband will be getting the snip at that point, whether he wants it or not.”

“I’ve always thought that two or three children would be the perfect size for a family,” he noted absently.

“Trying to tell me something, Potter?” she smirked. “If your bank balance has enough zeroes at the end of it, I might consider it.”

“There’s hope for me yet. I’ll fetch my latest statement of account from Gringotts to show you as soon as possible. I think it’s safe to say the balance contains more than a few zeroes in it,” he teased.

“As long as that’s not all there is,” she laughed mirthlessly. “That’s the problem with my family’s bank balance, it has loads of numbers in it, but they’re all zeroes.”

Harry was about to reply when he was interrupted by the arrival of Tracy. The curvy blond plonked herself down next to Ginevra and grinned.

“I hope you weren’t flirting with the lovely Miss Weasley here,” she commented saucily. “You know we’re destined to be together, Harry, and I’m not having some ginger strumpet pawing my property.”

“How would you like a Reducto Curse up your jacksie?” Ginevra asked, although without malice.

“Classy, as ever, Ginevra,” Tracy laughed. “So, what are you two yattering about? Malfoy is currently boasting about the villa his mother is buying in Greece, and I had to get away. I can only take about five minutes of his showing-off per day without the need to vomit.”

“Really? I don’t think I could take that much,” Harry laughed as he poured himself some pumpkin juice. Of course, Tracy immediately snatched up his goblet before he’d had a chance to take a drink.

“Thanks, Harry, I was a bit thirsty,” she smirked, before taking a long drink. “I think I’ve been desensitised to his bullshit over the years. Why, one time he…”

Tracy suddenly stopped speaking and a distant look came into her eyes. The goblet dropped from her fingers and clattered loudly against the table. A moment later, she started to make a choking sound and her body began to shake.

“Tracy?” Ginevra said, looking at her friend in alarm. “Tracy? What’s wrong?”

The girl ignored her, and began to clutch at her throat. Her body was starting to spasm violently, and her face had turned a bright shade of red.

“Madam Pomfrey! Professor Snape! We need you!” Harry bellowed in the direction of the teachers table. Virtually every head in the room turned in his direction as he leapt over the table and grabbed the shaking girl.

“Try to breathe through your nose,” Harry urged her as he pulled her down onto the floor. He then forced her mouth open and shoved a finger down her throat, trying to see if she had a blocked airway.

“Make way!” Madam Pomfrey yelled as she arrived at the table. She fell to her knees and immediately pulled out her wand. A second later, Professor Snape arrived.

“What happened?” he demanded briskly.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, looking down at Tracy in distress. “She’d just taken a drink of pumpkin juice and…”

His voice trailed off as his head snapped round at the overturned goblet lying on the table. Snape obviously saw where he was looking and grabbed the goblet, which he sniffed cautiously.

“A very faint odour of walnut and Ashwinder venom,” he announced. “Merlin! This girl’s been poisoned! Poppy, we need to get a bezoar down her throat, now!”

“It’s too late,” Pomfrey said sadly. “She’s gone.”

Harry looked down at Tracy in shock. The girl was completely still, with an expression of surprise and horror frozen on her face. He felt his stomach clench and a wave of overwhelming anger wash over him.

He spun round and looked down the Slytherin table. Most of the pupils were looking on in shock and dismay, although two people didn’t seem to share that reaction.

Draco Malfoy was looking directly at him, his jaw clenched and his expression one of anger. Slightly further down the table, another boy sat, resolutely staring at the table top, completely expressionless.

A wave of burning hatred fill Harry as he realised he’d found the person who had just killed Tracy.


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