Harry Potter and the Wizards of Narhassa

Chapter 11: The Plot REALLY Thickens

"Hey," exclaimed the fat lady indignantly as Harry pushed her passed her eight forty-five that night. "Who's that? There is a curfew!" Harry, draped in his invisibility cloak, did not respond as he slowly made his way down the stairs.

Hogwarts took on a spooky, perhaps even sinister look at night. The only light available to him was an off torch that burned every few dozen yards. These torches never extinguished themselves, powered by the magic of the house elves. The flicking tongues of fires cast shadows all over the halls, swirling and churning the darkness like the flaps of a dementor's robes. While Harry was not exactly a rookie to creeping around after hours, this time in particular, he almost regretted it.

In truth, he was not sure where the Hufflepuff Common Room lay. Only one time before had he ever been to another House's common room, and that had been quite a lengthy task to find, even with help.

Harry had neared the Great Hall, feeling rather lost. He began to recall his memories of all the Hufflepuff students in the past that he knew well. "Where did they go after their classes?"

Harry thought about Justin Fitch-Fletchley, the boy everyone had accused Harry of petrifying in his second year, but he had never been a close friend with him. He then considered Hannah Abbot and Ernie Macmillan from his Herbology class, though he had never remembered catching a glimpse in the direction they went after that class... it was not something he looked for.

And finally, the memory of Cedric Diggory popped in his head. At first, he wanted to dismiss it entirely, for this was not the time to feel guilt and shame. Yet, he could not help but ponder on it for a moment. He remembered meeting Cedric for the first time off the Quidditch field, telling him about the dragons in between his classes. Cedric then returned the favor one night, before heading up to his Common Room.

At that, Harry's eyes widened. "Heading up to his Common Room..." he thought. With that, Harry hustled through the corridors and tried his best to recall the exact spot where Cedric had given Harry the clue about the golden egg last year. It was surprising that the memory was so vivid within his head, for he found the exact spot quickly.

In the shadows, it seemed to be little more than an unremarkable corridor, however, Harry quickly found what he was looking for. A few paces down the hall, a staircase seemed to crawl out of the darkness... the same one Cedric had started up.

It must be close, thought Harry as he climbed up the stairwell. He knew from his experience with the Polyjuice Potion that the door to the Slytherin common room was nothing more than a perfectly unremarkable wall. A portrait, a completely bizarre one at that, hid the Gryffindor common room. What would the Hufflepuff common room be concealed by?

With a huff, Harry glide down the hallway, pulling his invisibility cloak tighter to his body. The hallway was decorated with pictures of kindly old friars sleeping, statues of humble looking men... as well as a huge picture of a badger, who was gnawing at a tree within his picture tirelessly.

"Ah.. this must be it," thought Harry.

"Hmm..." said the badger, stopping his work and sniffing the air delicately. "I smell a Gryffindor." The badger looked directly at him. Its voice was soft and high-pitched, with an energetic flare. "Oh, must be an invisibility cloak, cause I can't see you."

Harry sighed. There was no way he would be getting into the Hufflepuff Common Room without talking to it.

"Yeah, ok... you got me," said Harry, removing the hood from his robe and exposing his disembodied head.

The badger extended a claw upon one of his forepaws and shook it naughtily in Harry's direction.

"You know there's a strict curfew, young Gryffindor," said the badger with a lofty voice. "It's for your safety, you know."

Harry frowned slightly. "Look, I'm meeting someone in the Hufflepuff common room. Can you let me in?"

The badger shook his head. "You look old enough to know the rules. Only Gryffindors in the Gryffindor common room; only Hufflepuffs in the Hufflepuff common room. Funny how that works, eh?"

With a grunt, Harry removed the rest of his Invisibility Cloak. "Can you JUST let me PEEK my HEAD in... she's probably waiting on the other side."
The badger smirked, showing a few small, yet sharp teeth. "How do I know you won't just run in if I do that?"

Harry sighed with impatience. "I'm not a Slytherin... I give you my word."

The badger rolled his eyes, and put a claw to his lips in consideration. "Errr... well, ok. In fact, you better come in. If something happened to you out here while I didn't let you in, I'd never forgive myself."

This earned the badger a strange look from Harry. "No password?"

The badger shook his head. "What's the need for one? I know all the children in my house by name and face... and smell. I just let them in."

Harry had often wondered why the Fat Lady always locked Neville out... even though she knew that he was supposed to be there.

"Isn't that a little dangerous?" asked Harry. "Wizard spells..."

The badger chuckled. "Badgers have a sixth sense when it comes to magic. If someone tried to use magic to get in here, I'd smell it from a mile away. How do you think I knew you were coming? I mean... you don't smell THAT bad. I've caught traces of your smell off of a young girl who was recently placed into this house. What is your name, boy?"

"Harry," he replied. "Harry Potter."

"Oh!" said the badger, huffing out his chest. "You are the Heir of Slytherin. I remember some of my kids talking to me about that a few years back."

A sour look came to Harry's face. "Yes, I am, thanks for reminding me."
"Anyway," said the badger waving his paw. "I can smell that you want to end this

conversation. I haven't spoken with a Gryffindor in nearly fifty years. Most of my

kids love to spend some time chatting with me. The Fat Friar and myself love to talk about their problems... it usually helps. But you Gryffindors, as I recall, are always so stubborn: 'shouldering the world's burden' and all."

Harry nodded slowly. "The story of my life. Anyway, nice talking to you... um?"

The badger leaned up against his tree with a knowing smirk. "Just call me Badge."

"Right," said Harry. "I won't forget."

The portrait of the badger slid open, admitting Harry. To his surprise, a slight mist rolled out from behind the picture, and sunlight flashed so loudly into Harry's eyes, that he needed to shield them with his hands. Harry took his bold first steps into the Hufflepuff common room.

Nothing could have prepared Harry for the sight.

A low mist had already poured out into the hallway, passing Harry's shins. The room itself was bathed in sunlight from a golden, enchanted ceiling. All around the room, vines hugged the walls and plants of gorgeous yellow, green, lavender and rosy red filled much of the round, mahogany tables. Harry's feet went from hard stone to soft grass as he entered. His ears were filled with the sound of rushing water, as he spied a waterfall seeping from a corner of the room and bubbling gracefully into a large fountain with a statue of a badger within.

Hufflepuff students lay calmly on the grass, talking and reading. Golden picnic tables were neatly lined up around the room, from which other students played games or studied in silence. The very nature of this room brought Harry into an unbelievable peace.

"No fair..." was the first thought that came to his mind. "They get to live... here?"

Harry walked calmly into the room, as a rush of breeze tickled his face. At once, he spied Justin, Ernie and Hannah laying on the grassy ground and talking softly. Hannah noticed Harry, and her eyes widened. She stopped Justin from speaking and pointed. With a sudden gasp, Harry remembered that he had forgotten to reequip his Invisibility Cloak.

"Harry?" asked Ernie, his voice alarmed. "What are you doing here? This is the Hufflepuff common room! You can't be here!"

Yet, Harry could not bring himself to be terribly alarmed. "It sure is..." he replied dreamily. For the first time in his life, Harry almost regretted NOT being sorted into Hufflepuff.

"It's ok, Ernie," said Justin calmly. "Jessica told me he'd be coming."
Hannah looked at Justin disapprovingly. "Hey, nothing against Harry, but he is a Gryffindor. You are talking your prefect job much too lightly. He's breaking the rules."

"Fine," said Justin, curling a tress of his golden hair. "Harry, one point will be taken from Gryffindor," he said lazily. He then looked to Hannah. "Happy?"

Harry smirked. He lost more points in an average Potions class.

Hannah pouted slightly. "Well, no... I didn't mean that. Oh fine, since you are setting me up to be a nosy porker here, just let him stay."

Justin smiled, crawled over and pecked Hannah on the cheek. "Good."

Hannah blushed as Justin turned back to Harry, who was still stunned rather silly by the sheer beauty of the Hufflepuff common... garden.

"Come join us, Harry," said Justin. "Jessica's not feeling too well, so she retired early."

Harry was finally brought back to his senses. "Is she alright?" he asked as he drew near to the three Hufflepuff students, lying down on the grass.

"Yeah," said Ernie with a shrug. "I trust the first day sort of overwhelmed her."

Harry nodded, still totally exhilarated about being in such a lovely place.

"It is something, isn't it?" asked Hannah, smiling at Harry's look of wide-eyed astonishment. She looked over to the large fountain in the corner of the room, with water streaming down gently. "I still can't get over it... and its been five years."

Harry puffed out his cheeks. "Well, now I know why you Hufflepuffs are so good at Herbology."

Justin nodded. "Yeah, we all take turns caring for the plants, cutting the grass and cleaning the fountain," he said. "Part of the whole 'hardworking' 'all for one' thing."

"We even have a swimming pool a bit further in," chipped in Ernie, pointing to a closed door along the shining walls. "Also, a part of the 'hardworking' thing is the 'extreme partying after finishing' thing."

This is JUST not FAIR, decided Harry.

"You guys should see the Slytherin common room," said Harry offhandedly. "It's a prison cell."

Justin laughed at that. "How many common rooms have you been in?"

"All but Ravenclaw," said Harry, with consideration. Finally, he decided to sit down in the grass. "And Narhassa."
The three Hufflepuff stared at Harry with a mixture of hesitation and confusion.

"I do not like that Narhassa lot," said Hannah with a nervous tone to her voice. "Especially the Americans... about half of them come from America, did you know?"

Harry shrugged. "Sean, the guy sorted in our house, is a really nice kid."

"I don't have any problem with Americans," said Justin with a shrug. "But, yes... I do recall the first one I met. I guess he is a friend of yours, Harry. He was just looking for any reason to try and rip my head off."

"Well," replied Harry, remembering the brief exchange between Justin and Alex. "That guy is a jerk. He hates me too. But he also hates Malfoy... anyone who hates Malfoy can't be all bad."

The Hufflepuffs, instead of chuckling, suddenly paled.

"You hear what happened to him?" asked Ernie, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Harry's mind snapped like a whip cracked against it. He had all but forgotten about Malfoy with his desire to see Jessica, his conversation with Badge and his entrance into this paradise. Yet now, he was reminded of that terrible, yet simply stunning mystery.

Harry nodded. "Not to sound heartless, but I'm sure Malfoy had it coming..."

Justin shook his head disapprovingly. "He was hit with some very powerful spells... no student could have done that, and no professor would have. I bet Malfoy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Who knows what all those Narhassa students are capable of," scolded Hannah. "I hear they have amazing magical potential. I bet it was one of them... what if it was that kid you were talking about?"

Harry's eyebrows arched. "Alex?"

Justin considered that for a moment. "Yeah... you said he hated Malfoy, and I wouldn't put it past him to harm someone. I saw what happened that day in Diagon Alley, when Malfoy and him fought. Maybe he was getting revenge against them."

Clouds immediately rushed into Harry's mind, darkening his mood.

"That makes so much sense that it scares me," said Harry aghast. With a sigh, Harry stood up. He did not want to speak about this anymore to anyone that wasn't named Ron or Hermione. "Anyway, it was great talking to you. I'm going to make sure Jessica's feeling ok."

Justin also stood up slowly. "Sorry, Harry," he said hesitantly. "She told me to apologize on her behalf and send you away."

Harry's mood darkened even further. "She said that?" he asked in a remote voice.

"Afraid so," he said calmly. "If you want to spend the night down here and see her in the morning, that's fine. It's better than you walking the halls at night. If something happened to you on the way back, I'd never forgive myself for sending you away."

And that seemed to make a dent in Harry's dim cheer.

"Though, don't make a habit of coming here," added Justin in a firm tone. "Especially after hours. We allow the occasional Gryffindor/Ravenclaw guest into the room, but we also swear them to secrecy. Our common room is a secret well kept for nearly a thousand years because we only allow people in that we trust. You can't go telling everyone, or world get out, and we will have students from every house trying to sneak in."

Harry nodded. "I understand. I won't tell anyone."

Ernie clapped Harry on the back as he rose. "There's a good lad," he said jovially. "Though, tell anyone and we will not hesitate to break your legs."

At that, Harry laughed.

"Anyone up for a swim?" asked Hannah. "I'm getting a bit of cabin fever from being locked in here."

Harry looked around the gorgeous room again. How could ANYONE possibly get cabin fever in here? A smirk of realization crossed his face. No wonder why NOT A SINGLE PERSON sorted into Hufflepuff ever complains after the Sorting Ceremony.

"I'm game," said Justin as Ernie followed. After seeing the look in Harry's green eyes of sheer wanting, he finally cracked. "You can come too if you want, Harry."

Overjoyed, Harry followed the three Hufflepuff students with a skip to his step as they left the Common room through a wooden door with vines growing up the side of it.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Despite the tranquil peace of mind that a night in the Hufflepuff common room provided Harry with temporarily, tensions were rising high over the next few days. Jessica had all but ignored him that morning, brushing him off with a weak apology and a 'I'll talk to you later'.

And once he left, after saying good-bye to Badge, the bliss that the room had provided was gone. By now, word of the attacks on Malfoy had reached the student body and everyone tread with caution as, once again, Hogwarts was caught up within a storm of fear.

That same day, Ron and Hermione were released from the hospital wing, while Madam Pomfrey was busy trying to keep Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy alive. Ron had told Harry that they did not look very good. He had overheard Pomfrey speaking to Lucius Malfoy... who was flanked by the Crabbe and Goyle's fathers, (This had brought a bittersweet smirk to Harry's face) telling him that she could not guarantee their lives. Lucius had immediately called in for a Specialist medi-wizard who was now assisting Madam Pomfrey.

And to make matters worse, each of the Gryffindor Fifth Year boys were now beginning to show the signs of a lack of sleep. Each and every night without fail, Sean awoke screaming from another horrible dream. While Harry's dreams had been unimpressive as of late, Sean continued telling Harry everything.

"We were back in the classroom, Voldemort asked me if I had reconsidered my actions... I told him no... he tortured me again!"

"... it happened again... he hit me... so much pain!"

"... I said alright, just please don't hurt me anymore. He backed off and let me stay for the rest of the lesson."

And it was that note, nearly a week later that arched Harry's brows.

"I can't blame you," said Ron without much enthusiasm, as they were sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall. "The Cruciatus Curse is not joking matter." He yawned loudly, stretching his hands. His normally bright, blue eyes were sunken in, and deep bags were clearly present.

"I'm sorry," said Sean, instantly picking up on Ron's mood. "I'll sleep in the common room tonight."

Hermione frowned deeply, glaring at Ron. "No you will not!" she said indignantly. "Is this how you treat your friends when they are having a tough time?"

Ron glared at Hermione with a very hurt expression and lowered his eyes back to his plate.

Harry shrugged. Hermione's expression also softened as she saw Ron's hurt look.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said softly. There was a moment of awkward silence before Hermione, as if renewed by a second wind, turned to Harry. "Oh, subject change. I found out an interesting thing in the library about Ben Nevis and Narhassa."

"Oh?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," she said. "Have you two ever heard of a Sorolith?"

"A Soro-whooa-whatta?" asked Sean, cocking his head.

Harry shrugged and shook his head.

"Well," said Hermione. "About thirty years ago, a wizard with a passion for hiking found one buried at the peek of Ben Nevis."

"What is it, exactly?" asked Ron, looking up from his plate.

Hermione took a sip of her juice. "It's hard to explain," she said. "Basically, it is a ball that is capable of capturing a figment of one's soul."

Upon receiving blank looks, she continued.

"Upon touching it, a person looses a bit of his soul into the Sorolith. By itself, that portion of the soul is nothing, but when combined with a more portions taken from many more wizards, it begins to amount to something."

Harry nodded his head slowly, digesting the information. "So, you are saying that some wizard found this at the summit of the mountain?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, and that isn't the only interesting thing."

"Let me guess," said Ron slyly. "He was found murdered shortly after uncovering it and the Sorolith was taken."

Hermione cocked her head. "How did you know?"

"Because that is always the story," said Ron with a grunt.

Sean and Harry both smirked wryly while Hermione blinked off Ron's comment. "That proves that someone wanted that Sorolith and was willing to kill for it."

Ron stared at Hermione for a moment.

"What are the purposes for the Sorolith?" he asked.

Hermione looked from Ron to Harry to Sean. "I looked into that as well and came up with only two possible uses. First, a wizard can use it to create a simulacrum of himself, basically a fake replica of himself. It's sort of a defensive spell... the simulacrum takes any damage the owner might take until it is destroyed. Not all that interesting, really. It is a primitive form of magic, when most spells used to deal damaged directly to their enemies: lightning bolts, fireballs, etc. Now that most common spells don't cause physical harm, a simulacrum doesn't really help... The second use is the most interesting, however."

Sean sighed and continued eating his breakfast. "Too many big words for me."
"The second use is to focus the sacrifice of ones soul and covert it into raw energy," finished Hermione.

Harry clapped his hands together. "Bang on!" he exclaimed. "So, that explains how the Wizards of Narhassa sacrificed their souls so long ago."

Ron nodded eagerly. "To convert their souls into a massive amount of energy... but for what?"

"All I can say is nothing seems worthy of giving ones soul for," said Sean slowly.

Hermione nodded. "That's a great point. It doesn't seem like any earthy goal is worth ones soul... the denial of both life and afterlife."
"Let me guess," said Ron, rest his elbow on the table with a flat palm to the ceiling. "You have a hypothesis on why."
"Well, of course I do," muttered Hermione bossily, as if to think otherwise was to commit a mortal sin. "My hypothesis is that one can convert another's soul into energy unwillingly using the Sorolith."

"Sound," said Harry with a nod. "Very sound."

"That would explain a good amount," agreed Ron. "What if the Wizards of Narhassa had a single leader... and that leader forced all his subjects to give up their souls?"

Sean shrugged. "Yeah, but why?"

"Soul energy," began Hermione sagely, "is one of the greatest powers in the entire world. That is why the Dark Arts are so powerful... if one has an extremely strong soul, they can compel others to feel pain, fall under their whim, or simply die."

"Blimey..." said Ron in stunned awe. "Imagine what someone could do with all the souls of the Wizards of Narhassa. There were like a hundred!"

"I wouldn't even want to imagine," said Harry darkly. "Because the truth will be so much more horrifying than anything I could think of."

Ron looked to Harry. "How you figure?"

Harry returned Ron's look, with a smirk of irony. "Because that is always the story."

At that Sean chuckled while Hermione even managed a smile. Ron waved away the comment.

"Anyway, subject change yet again," he said. "When do we start playing Quidditch?"

Harry slapped his forehead. "Oh, I've been meaning to tell ya," he began. "With five teams, one team gets a pass through the first rounds of play and an automatic fifty points. Since we've won the House Cup for three years running now, we were the ones chosen."

Sean blinked stupidly, but before he could ask, Hermione leaned over and began to whisper to him.

"Ah," said Ron. "Who is the captain, now... wait a second... five teams?!"

Harry nodded. "Yes, House Narhassa has registered a team."

"What!" exclaimed Ron. "They don't even know what Quidditch is!"

"Obviously someone told them," replied Harry snappily. "The games aren't for another week. By my understanding, the Narhassa team has been out at the crack of dawn every day, practicing Quidditch before class."

"Motivated little buggers, aren't they?" cooed Ron with appreciation. "Anyway, who is our captain?"

"Katie Bell," replied Harry. "The pass is great because we still need two chasers and a keeper. Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson both graduated, and we never found a replacement for Oliver Wood yet."

Ron bounced with enthusiasm. "You've seen me fly, Harry. I'd be a great Keeper!"

Harry shrugged. "I'll definitely tell Katie. You'll probably get a tryout. But, that still leaves us two chasers short."

Sean chirped up, after Hermione stopped whispering in his ear. "A chaser is the one that throws and catches the uh..."

"Quaffle," supplied Harry.

Sean snapped his fingers. "Yeah. I used to play a lot of basketball... don't really have the height for it, but I was a good shot."

"Sean, do you even know how to fly?" asked Ron a bit more crisply than he probably meant to.

Sean returned his testy quip with a smirk. "Sure, but if you insist that I need to use a broom, I'll have to learn how. Really not used to using a broom."

"Sod off," snapped Ron. "You can't fly without a broom."
Sean smirked knowingly, his green eyes gleaming with mischief. "No." he said with a smile. "You can't."

Ron's face flushed red with a bit of anger, but Harry butting in cut off his retort.

"Ok, Ron, take a drink of juice. Sean, I don't care if you can pass gas and shoot yourself to the moon. You need to use a broom in Quidditch"

"Fine," said Sean, without any hint of disappointment. "I really can't fly anyway. I was just teasing."

Ron choked on his juice while Hermione burst out laughing. Harry cracked a short grin. With a grunt, Ron stuffed his face with pancakes, looking down at his plate.

"Um, Harry Potter," called a voice from behind him.

Harry's grin faded as he turned back to view a small looking Ravenclaw boy with a round face and light blonde hair. He couldn't have been more than a second year.

"Yeah?" he asked, as his friends fell silent and stared at the small boy.

"Madam Pomfrey said to report to the Hospital Wing immediately," he said, as if afraid that Harry was going to beat him for giving him bad news.

Harry blinked for a moment. "Did she say why?"

"Yeah..." the boy stammered. "One of the patients needs to speak to you. He said it was an emergency."

"Huh?" thought Harry out loud, as he glanced back a Ron.

"It has to be Malfoy," said Ron coldly. "What would that git want to say to you?"

Harry's eyes widened as a thought popped into his head.

It's about who attacked him. I know it...

He stood up without delay, and rushed out of the Great Hall.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing with a loud bang. Despite a week having past, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were still bedridden, though they looked considerably better. Madam Pomfrey and an older man of about sixty with a head of balding white hair were currently examining the three boys in the otherwise empty hospital wing.

Draco's eyes lifted upon seeing Harry.

"Potter. I didn't expect you'd rush to see me."
Harry glared at Malfoy. While being too benevolent to bring out his worst against a bedridden menace, he was still not to fond to be by his side.

"Skip it, Malfoy. What do you want?"

Malfoy sat back into his pillow and despite his frail looking body, managed to come off with an air of confidence. "Do you have any more information about Seth Redetyor for me? You've had a week."
"I didn't realize I had a homework assignment," said Harry crisply.

Malfoy arched a brow. "That's a no, I take it."

"Take it however you want," replied Harry.

"So, Seth Redeytor has been behaving himself, now hasn't he? No more looks at you, no more scar pain, no more show downs in the bathrooms?" continued Malfoy.

Harry's contempt for Malfoy began to turn into curiosity. "You know something, don't you, and that is why you were attacked..."

Malfoy nodded slowly. "For a dumb Gryffindor, you do catch on rather quick."

"... and you want to tell me," continued Harry. "Why?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I'd have thought that to have been obvious. Perhaps you aren't that bright."

"Enlighten me then, oh wise Slytherin," snapped Harry.

A condescending grin crossed Malfoy's face. "Well, natural and unnatural disasters seem to be your area of expertise. After all, you've taken a git like Weasley and given him a purpose for living. I think, of all your achievements... the Sorcerer's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets... the Triwizard Tournament... that has been your most notable one."

"I'm leaving," snapped Harry as he turned to go.

"No you aren't," returned Malfoy. "Because I'm about to tell you who attacked me. You may find this story interesting."

Indeed, Harry wasn't leaving. He turned back just as quickly.

"Well, get on with it then," said Harry, still none to pleased to be exchanging anything but hostile words with Malfoy.

Malfoy folded his arms across his chest. For someone who had been attacked to the mere inch of his life, he sure didn't act very humble, Harry thought.

And then, Malfoy began his story.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Are you two ever going to finish your Charms Homework?" snapped Malfoy, impatiently.

Crabbe looked up irritably and grunted. Goyle mumbled something as he pointed at a page in his book and looked to Draco with a confused look.

Malfoy groaned and reached over the table within the Slytherin Common Room. It was a dark chamber with green hued lamps swinging from the ceiling, suspended by rusted chains. A dank smell of mold hinted within Draco's nostrils as he snorted at Goyle with disdain. The Slytherin spun Goyle's book one hundred and eighty degrees, setting it right-side up.

"Try it now."

A stupid grin broke across his face as he laughed trollishly and continued reading.

"If you two were any thicker, I'd need a shovel to look at you," he said dourly, putting his head into the palm of his hands and staring dourly ahead.

Many thoughts jumped into Malfoy's head, as usual, whenever he felt alone. He often mused he did enough thinking for three people, for how his life worked. Crabbe and Goyle did very little of the thinking while Malfoy told them what their opinions were.

Yet, as much as he wanted to hate Crabbe and Goyle for being so mentally... and perhaps genetically more primitive than he was, he depended on them for survival as they did upon him. It was a symbiotic relationship. With them at his side, he could say anything to anyone and get away with it. On the downside, he often had to spend long hours with them, tutoring them and insuring that they passed their subjects, for Draco knew that without them, he would be just another Weasley... he would have had to find someone to latch onto if he were to survive.

This thought made him hate Weasley more than anything. Without Potter, he was nothing... and yet, that thought did not seem to bother the red haired git.

Besides, while watching the two ogres fumble around through their books like demented infants, could not help but feel with his two cronies, he was still in charge of something.

His attention was momentarily drawn to the sight of Seth Redetyor, who had emerged from the stairs leading down to their dormitories, within the cellar of the Slytherin dungeon. Seth gave everyone a look over with a raised lip and made quickly for the hidden stone door, leading out of the Common Room. Most interestingly, he was dressed in a cloak and a green and silver scarf, as if he was planning an outdoor expedition.

"Where do you suppose he is going?" asked Malfoy.

Crabbe looked up to him again and grunted a few times.

Malfoy considered Crabbe's 'words'. It had taken him a long time, but he had learned to understand Crabbish and Goylic while he was a child. It was a primitive language of grunts and groans often mixed with a few words when they were feeling particularly bright.

"It's a bit late for that, wouldn't you think?" asked Malfoy. "Wait... don't... last time you tried that, you got brain pain for an hour."

Crabbe put a finger to his lip and nodded once.

"Let's check it out," said Malfoy, standing up slowly and moving to follow Seth as the wall reset itself after the strange boy's passing. Crabbe and Goyle grunted in affirmation and followed Malfoy, pushing past a group of second years. "I'll be damned if that right git makes us loose any more points in one day."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"... you, Crabbe and Goyle followed Redetyor?" asked Harry in disbelief. "Is that how it happened?"

Malfoy looked at him irritably from his bed. "Yes, and no. Shut up and listen."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Malfoy rounded the corridor, keeping a good distance between him and the fleeing, cloaked being in front of him. Crabbe and Goyle followed even further behind at his insistence, for he was afraid their heavy breathing and their graceless footsteps would give them away.

The sound of commotion from the Great Hall began to fill the air as they approached. At once, Malfoy felt extremely stupid. What if he was just going for a late dinner? The pallid boy then reconsidered the situation, with the way Seth was dressed for a walk out in the cold. Malfoy's suspicions were confirmed as he hooked a right, avoiding the Great Hall and taking a quick turn down a side corridor filled with titanic suits of armor.

Where is he going?

Suddenly, Redeytor made a quick hop to his left, pressing himself up against the wall and ducking behind a suit of shimmering mail. Malfoy waved Crabbe and Goyle back, and leapt against the wall as well, dodging behind a suit of armor. Crabbe and Goyle obediently stayed behind in the corridor leading to the Great Hall.

A group of Gryffindors emerged from around the corner, barely fifty feet ahead of him. They walked slowly, without much urgency to their steps. Malfoy watched them with masked disdain from concealment. A few passed within five feet of him as he ducked in the shadow of the mail in front of him.

"Trust me, Sean," said the voice of Harry Potter. "Once that initial effect wears off, you'll find yourself begging for a Killing Curse simply to escape the ungodly confines of that classroom."

Malfoy peered out from behind the suit of armor and saw Harry talking with a smaller boy with deep, ruddy hair. The pale skinned boy instantly recognized him as the Muggle who was sorted into Gryffindor.

"I got that impression after he started talking about those Dementor things... they must be the most bo..." replied the boy, as their conversation faded out of earshot as they rounded the corner and turned toward the Great Hall.

With that, Malfoy stood up and peered around. Redetyor had swooped out from behind his armor and continued a brisk pace down the corridor in the direction the Gryffindors had come, his black cloak flapping out from behind him.

Crabbe and Goyle emerged from behind the corner and fell into flanking positions with Malfoy as they continued stalking after Seth.

Seth rounded a second corridor, clearly making his way for the entrance of Hogwarts. It was obvious to the calculating Slytherin that Redetyor was not planning on staying local.

"All we need is some proof," said Malfoy quietly to his cronies, "that Redetyor is leaving the grounds, and he'll be expelled."

Crabbe and Goyle chortled incoherently at the prospect.

Malfoy carefully followed Seth around the corner, about twenty-five feet behind him... and suddenly stopped.

Seth was nowhere to be seen.

"What the?" asked Malfoy as he looked to Crabbe and Goyle, though he didn't expect much from them. Crabbe scratched his head like an ape while Goyle shrugged his shoulders and emitted an I-dunno grunt.

The corridor leading to the entrance of Hogwarts was completely barren saved the candlelight burning from the chandeliers above. Golden hued shadows danced about the hall as the sun was on the verge of setting outside the school. All students were either in the Great Hall, having finished the last of their classes, or retired to their Common Rooms.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of Malfoy's neck arose. He felt movement behind him but was powerless to act in time. A strong being threaded an arm beneath his armpit, putting him in a wrestlers chicken wing hold. A hand clamped over Malfoy's mouth before he could cast any spells. Crabbe and Goyle whirled about just in time to see Draco being pulled out of arms reach by a black-cloaked figure.

"Make a move, and I'll snap his neck," hiss a voice loudly, glaring at the two trollish, confused forms.

Crabbe and Goyle both looked at each other stupidly and made no move. Draco began to shake all over as tension gripped his body.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Redetyor attacked you?" gasped Harry. "But... why?"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't him who did the attacking."

Harry blinked, truly confused. It seemed that while Harry was listening to Draco's dark tale, the hospital room had taken on a dark and sinister look, despite the early morning sun. The rising sun cast long shadows against Draco's face, making it appear more deathly and pale, reminding him of an animated corpse.

"What do you mean it wasn't him?" asked Harry.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Now... you listen here, kid... and you listen good," hissed the boy who had to be Seth Redetyor. Malfoy, while in the midst of the wrestler's hold, could not see his assailant clearly. His face burned from where his arm was locked against the temple of his head. Redetyor lifted his hand from Malfoy's mouth, now confident that the young wizard would not be casting any spells successfully. "You did not see me leaving school tonight. I do not know what you think you are on about, but you are meddling with a sentient being you cannot even begin to understand."

Yet, as terrified as Malfoy was, there was a sort of rebellion within him; a sort of upstanding pride that, despite his situation, would not let him fold his cards.

"You think you are going to get away with this, Muggle?" snapped Draco, rolling his eyes and trying to get a glimpse of his attacker. "You might get me, but do you think you can take both Crabbe and Goyle before they get you?"

Crabbe and Goyle took two steps back as three more cloaked figures stepped out from the shadows cast by the chandeliers nearby. A quick glance afforded Malfoy enough time to know that Redetyor definitely had the upper hand.

Redetyor suddenly released his hold on Malfoy, and pushed him toward his larger friends.

"You couldn't just nod and say yes, could you, Draco Malfoy?" asked the cloaked figure. Malfoy hit into his two other companions and spun about to see the smug, black-haired boy, smirking with him. His gray eyes were narrowed into dead slits, with nothing but pure malice behind them.

"You had to make your own survival a risk to my cause, didn't you?" asked Seth, his arms crossed gravely. He cocked his head slowly and methodically toward one of the three-cloaked figures.

"Teach them a lesson. I have business to attend to. Just... wound them. I trust Mr. Malfoy won't be speaking about this to the good Headmaster after he is shown what the power of Narhassa can do to him."

"Goody..." said one of the figures from beneath a black hood, his voice very recognizable. He smacked his fist into the palm of his hand. "I'm glad I didn't have to wait long for this."

His voice was distinctly laden with a distinctive American accent.

With a sudden move, Malfoy made a grab for his wand. Yet, the figure who spoke to him was just too quick. He raised his hands, fanned out his fingers, and suddenly, a blast of white lightning shot forth from his hand, striking into Malfoy with archer's precision. Draco felt his body lift from the ground and launch into the air. He felt searing, fiery pain all over his body as he thudded painfully back to the floor, skidding several more feet and into a pillar.

Crabbe and Goyle made no move to help him... instead, they had their own problems. The other two figures had extended their arms and were sending shimmering blue balls of energy flying forth from their outstretched hands upon the large boys. Seth Redeytor rushed past the battle and fled out of the main entrance of the school.

"Where are your arrogant words now, prick?" hissed the cloaked figure as another bolt of lightning shot into Malfoy's body, sending him into seizures charged by electric force. "What was it you called me... Muggle scum? Not so tough when your fatass friends aren't able to protect you, huh? I bet you wish three pathetic Muggles had your back now, huh?"

Malfoy hissed in pain as he was nearly pushed back to the main entrance, crying out in angst. Someone had to hear him. Crabbe and Goyle had slumped to the floor, a slight pool of blood forming by their heads.

The first figure was about to lift his hands to dispense more punishment when the third figure grabbed the boy's hand. In the distance, they could hear the sound of running footsteps, reacting to Draco's screams of pain.

"Someone is coming!" echoed a distinctly female voice. "We have to go!"

The original cloaked figure snorted and emitted a fourth bolt of lighting. Instead of snapping, energetic white, it was colored bloody crimson. When it struck Malfoy's chest, it didn't run through him with jolting pain, but goring agony as if a spike had been jammed into his chest. He placed his belly, and felt only wet blood.

Over his own agony, he could distinctly hear the first cloaked figure speaking again.

"You are so lucky Redetyor wants you alive... cause I'd be happy to leave you a corpse. You heard the man; tell the Headmaster about this, and we will make your death very painful indeed."

And then, the three figures took off down a random hallway, escaping the oncoming footfalls. Strong arms were lifting the last thing Draco remembered before he blacked out.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Harry stared at Draco, in stunned silence.

"I suppose that muggle that was with you was the one who assaulted me," he said, his eyes still caring a unique pride. "He made sure to hammer that point in rather unsubtly."

Harry's vision had fogged over momentarily in consideration. He blinked his eyes, as if just waking up from a bad dream.

"Why?" said Harry darkly.

Malfoy replied to Harry's dark tone with a scowl of his own. "Why what, Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Why are you telling me all this? How do I even know you aren't lying to me?"
Draco glared at Harry for a long moment. Harry suspected he received the furthest reply from what he was expecting.

"What possible gain would lying to you provide me?" snapped Draco.

"An outlet for your evil little mind and your sick, twisted imagination all at once, perhaps?" retorted Harry.

"No," said Draco. "That's what my diary is for."

Harry glared at Draco with an autumn chill, his emerald green eyes flaring up with his force of character.

"All you are, Draco Malfoy, is a lie. Everything that happens to you, you distort, you milk, you plunder and you squeeze until it gives you the most personal gain. And when you have nothing to gain from something, you make sure it becomes other people's losses as well. You are a virus."

Draco stared at Harry with a mock awe. "Wow. I'm sexually aroused right now, Potter. Are you done with your diatribe, or should I take a nap before you get back on subject?"

"This is the subject, Malfoy. You are the subject."

"No," said Draco coldly. "Redetyor is the subject; the Dark Lord is the subject."

"You filthy git," sneered Harry as he turned around. "You don't think I've forgotten what you told me on the train?"

Draco licked his lips. "I've said a lot of things on the train to you, Potter."
Harry's face became stony and grave. He slowly navigated around Draco's bed, his voice filled with hatred.

"You've picked the losing side, Potter. I warned you. I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this. Too late now, Potter. They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back..."

He paused for a moment, glaring hard at Malfoy.

"... Mudbloods and Muggle-Lovers first, well second, Diggory was the first," finished Harry, speaking off the top of his head, looking back to Draco with severe green eyes.

Malfoy's gray eyes widened slightly as he arched his brows. "Those were my words, exact to the letter... weren't they?"

"Yes," said Harry chillingly. "You threatened the lives of my best friends and slandered the memory of Cedric Diggory, as well as pledged yourself to the Dark Lord. What DAMN right do you have to even THINK I'll trust a word out of your mouth?"
Draco seemed a bit stunned at first, but within a moment, he repainted his face into his usual calm, deliberate manner.

"Well, now, what did I exactly swear myself to?" asked Draco. "Given a choice between a risen Dark Lord or an unaware, Muggle loving community, I choose the forward, Potter. You should do the same."

"Then why," snapped Harry, "are you at such odds with Redetyor? He's working for the Dark Lord too, isn't he?"

Draco stared at Harry. "I have my reasons, and they don't concern you, Potter."

"Tell me why you even bothered to tell me this story now," said Harry. "And no more bullshit, Malfoy."

"No more bullshit then, Potter?" affirmed Malfoy questioningly.

"You heard me."

Malfoy looked back, his smug expression replaced by a look of grave concern. "Because Redetyor isn't working for Voldemort, Potter... he is working against him."