average human’s Reviews > Expecto Patronum > Status Update

The nine of them cleared out of the Great Hall as soon as they were done eating, as did many other students. The students were congregating in the Entrance Hall, waiting for dinner to be over and the tables cleared away so the meeting could be held back in the Great Hall.

They had planned on using an empty classroom on the third floor, right up until they saw how many people had signed up.

“I’m gonna...” Harry hesitated while he tried to think of an excuse before shrugging. “I’ll be back,” he told his friends. He turned on his heel and attempted to run as quickly towards the dungeons as he could without looking like he was running. It wouldn’t do him any good if people knew he was nervous about tonight, then he’d just look like a prat who didn’t know how to be in charge. Which isn’t what this was. There just seemed to be a lot more constraints on his ability to lead a club than there was his ability to lead a gang.

Harry (not ‘frantically’ just... quickly) knocked on Snape’s office door before throwing it open and sticking his head in.

“Sev!” Harry yelled from the doorway. “What spell do I teach tonight?”

“Shield charm,” Snape said immediately.

“Brill! Thanks!”

Harry was already slamming the door shut behind him when Snape called his name.

“Yeah?” he poked his head back in the office, trying to keep a level tone.

“Breathe,” Snape said. “You are a natural and gifted leader. You will be fine. Good luck brat.”

Harry attempted a confident smile, but he was pretty sure it wound up just being a terrible grimace.



A grimace that only deepened when he was standing on the platform where the head table usually sat and looking out over the hall.

Apart from a good half of the Gryffindor’s, the ones Harry knows started their own club despite it technically not being allowed anymore, it seemed as if most of the rest of the castle came out to watch.

“Pretend they’re water gnats and you’re a blueberry cobbler,” Luna leaned forward and whispered in what may be the most peculiar advice ever. It did startle a laugh from Harry though which gave him the confidence to start the meeting.

“If you’re here it’s because you wanna learn defense.” Harry stuck his hands in his pockets and let his eyes wander around the room as he catalogued names and faces of the crowd. “If you just want help with homework or some sort of tutoring, talk to her,” Harry nodded his head in Hermione’s direction behind him. “If you want to actually learn to survive outside of the castle, then I’ll help. But-“

“Why?”

Harry looked around the crowd until he spotted the girl who spoke up. It wasn’t someone he knew, just an older girl in Ravenclaw robes. “Why what?” he asked her.

“Why are you helping us?” she clarified.

“Because Harry’s the best student in the castle at defense.”

“And offense too.”

Harry sent a quick, confused, but appreciative, look towards Fred and George, who were lounging against the stone wall. Fred winked at him, and Harry had to will himself to not blush and to focus on this.

Why was Fred winking at him?

Did he want to get back together? He said at the party last night he wanted to be friends, but does he wink at all his friends?

Focus.

“They’re right,” Harry said with a shrug and a half-smile. “I am the best.”

The girl, who Harry had been prepared to hate, actually smirked back after she rolled her eyes. “I know that,” she said. “I’m asking why you’re helping us. What’s in it for you?”

“Harry’s got big dreams of becoming the defense professor one day and this is going to look excellent on his application,” Blaise said sarcastically. Several students snickered, but a few looked terrified.

As if Harry would ever want to sit around grading papers all day. He didn’t know how or why Snape did it.

“Does it matter why I’m doing it?” Harry raised his brows. “Or can we get started?”

Nobody said anything else so Harry went ahead and pulled out his wand. “This is an easy spell that could save your life if it’s done right, yeah? Protego!”

Harry’s chest seemed to puff out on its own at the surprised and impressed gasps of the students in the crowd. “This—“ Harry gestured to the corporeal dark purple shield beside him, “—is what you want. So find some space and start. If you need help just put your hand up or something and one of us will help you.”

Harry jumped down from the raised platform and waited as everyone seemed to just stare at his still visible shield.

“Sometime today,” he drawled loudly, triggering students in to action.

The hour passed by quickly after that.

Harry edged around the room, vigilantly keeping an eye on the wands that were being waved closest to him, and offered comments here and there.

“It’s not fu- it’s not like that,” Harry grit out with as much patience as he could. “Look-“ Harry demonstrated the wand movement again for the fourth year who was just twirling his wand like an idiot.

“‘Protego,’” Harry said clearly to a lispy first year. “I dunno what ‘protecto’ is meant to do, but it doesn’t seem to work, does it?”

“Why... why don’t you have your wand out?” Harry asked Bailey once he came up to his group of second year Slytherin’s.

“I’m trying to cast like you do,” Bailey said with an earnest smile. “Watch!”

Harry cocked his head to the side as Bailey’s brows furrowed and his green eyes screwed up behind his glasses.

“Protego!” the small boy yelled with a wild windmill motion with his arms.

Harry, in what was the largest amount of restraint he had ever shown, did not laugh.

“Not like that,” he told him. “Use your wand for now and find me later to talk about wandless magic, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Bailey’s responding smile was so excited that Harry couldn’t help but smile a bit as well.

Why wasn’t everyone as easy to please as Trent Bailey?

Harry waited until Bailey and his little group of friends began the spell before he moved along to the next hand in the air.

“D’you actually need help?” he asked Fred once he got to where he and George were with both their hands raised high.

“I do,” Fred said seriously. “I want a purple shield like yours, but every time I do this—“ Fred muttered something and waved his wand in a circular motion, “this happens!”

Harry’s lips twitched at the bouquet of pink flowers that Fred conjured. “If you’re mixing up a shield charm, with a conjuring spell, I don’t think I can help you, can I?”

“Probably not,” Fred smiled. “But here, you should have these anyway.”

Harry had no idea what he was meant to do with an armful of...

“What are these anyway?”

“Bluebells,” Fred winked. “We’ll just keep working on our shields.”

Harry shook his head at that abrupt dismissal and felt like a bit of a prat with an armful of flowers. He focused on his bedside table before pulling on his magic and sending the flowers there with a light tap.

He spent the remainder of his time either sidestepping people who just wanted to talk to him or stopping to help people who actually wanted to learn something.

And, when there was only a few minutes left of the allotted hour, he got back on the platform and whistled loudly for attention.

“Good work everyone.”

It hadn’t been. A lot of people didn’t even get a shadowy shield to form. But Harry knew people liked to be complimented, so he said it anyway.

“I’ll have something different for you when we meet again in two weeks. So keep practicing your shields and I’ll see you on November 15, same time, same place.”

What that ‘something different’ would be, Harry had no idea.

Nobody seemed to guess at his thought though as they broke off in to large groups and chattered happily about the club.

“Harry! That was great!” Hermione was bouncing on the balls of her feet as Harry’s friends crowded around where he stood. “Hardly anyone said anything negative at all!”

“Who said anything negative?” Susan asked her quickly.

“Um...” Hermione glanced at Theo, who sighed.

“A few of the older students were complaining about the easy spell, but they shut up quick once we pointed out that their shield was nothing but mist.”

“Idiots,” Draco scoffed.

“I thought you did amazing,” Luna smiled brightly up at Harry. “And your next meeting will be even better.”

“Ta Lue.” Harry followed his own friends towards the exit, taking their time so they weren’t crowded by the other students who were still hanging around.

“Hey, Harry.”

Harry raised a brow at Blaise’s whisper and fell back a step to get beside him. “What?”

Blaise tilted his head towards Harry’s, and his voice was barely a whisper. “Dumbledore stopped by.”

Harry curled his lip up to hide the sudden swoop of unease that he felt in his stomach. “For what?” he breathed.

“I don’t know. He just stood in the doorway and watched when you were helping the other students. Then he left.”

Harry nodded his head for Blaise’s information and pondered it as he walked down to the dungeons.

What possible reason would Dumbledore have for coming and silently watching their club meeting?

He didn’t know why he would bother, but he didn’t like it.

He especially didn’t like the sudden increase in times he saw Dumbledore around the school.

After descending Trelawney’s ladder on Tuesday morning, there was a flash of a glittering blue robe before someone shimmered away in to invisibility.

Dumbledore’s eyes were on Harry during lunch that same day, never wavering.

A cheerful ‘hello’ in the corridor when Harry was headed to transfiguration.

He was pretty sure he had even seen him in the stands briefly during his teams practice that night.

It was making Harry paranoid and nervous.

What was driving Dumbledore to stalk him around the school?

On Wednesday, Harry grabbed his knife from Sirius and put it in the holster on his forearm. He put two throwing stars and his red penknife in his robe pockets as well, wanting to be as prepared as possible in case Dumbledore decided to outright attack him.

He hadn’t planned on killing Dumbledore this year, but he would if he forced his hand.

His friends were confused by his jerky movements and increasing levels of vigilance for every conversation and move they made that day, but as they weren’t being stalked by the fuckin Headmaster he figured they’d get over it.

Harry didn’t see much of Dumbledore Wednesday, but that only increased his paranoia.

Why follow him around all day Tuesday then ignore him Wednesday? Did he find what he was looking for? Was he trying to lull Harry in to a false sense of security?

Harry couldn’t figure out his game.

It wasn’t until his patrol with Hermione that night that he encountered Dumbledore again. The two of them were quietly bashing Umbridge, both disgusted and disturbed by her simpering smiles and coy words every time she was within ten feet of Harry.

“I think you should tell Professor Snape,” Hermione said after they checked the owlery for any student outside their bed past curfew. “He could talk to her about it.”

“I’m not telling Snape that the defense teacher is a creep,” Harry scowled. “He’d just-“

“Be very pleased you told him and take it quite seriously, I’m sure.”

Harry pulled up short and stepped in front of Hermione just as quickly as he flicked his dagger handle in to his right hand.

He had been trying to lull Harry in to a false sense of security. And Harry was pissed as hell that it had worked. Because as soon as they closed the door behind them, Dumbledore had appeared practically out of thin air in front of them.

“I’m sorry to startle you Harry,” Dumbledore smiled. “I was just hoping I could speak with you for a moment.”

Harry checked the corridor they were in quickly and felt his panic rise as he realized that either they had to back up back in to the owlery (which had no alternative exit) or find a way to dart past Dumbledore.

“I’m doing patrols,” Harry said as calmly as he could.

Never let an enemy sense your fear.

Better yet- don’t have fear for an enemy.

“I’ll walk with you then,” Dumbledore said. He tilted his head a bit to get a better view of Hermione, who Harry was firmly keeping behind himself. “If Miss Granger would like to join us, she’s more than welcome.”

This was an ambush.

An ambush that Harry had so stupidly walked right in to.

“Of course.” Harry straightened up and smiled politely. “We were just finishing up, I’m headed to the Ravenclaw Tower now.” Harry ignored Hermione’s quiet huff of indignation. If Dumbledore tried anything, Harry couldn’t afford to have Hermione get in the way.

“Lovely!” Dumbledore’s smile somehow managed to increase. “After you both then.” He turned and gestured grandly down the corridor.

Harry moved so that Hermione could go in front of him so he could keep an eye on both her and Dumbledore at the same time. Hermione narrowed her eyes silently at Dumbledore as she slowly took the lead back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Harry remained two steps behind her and could feel his blood pounding when Dumbledore casually kept pace beside him.

“So! Harry! How has this year been for you?”

“Fine, sir,” Harry said.

“Much better than last year I assume?” Dumbledore chuckled.

“Not really.” Harry really, really, didn’t want to be carrying on a conversation with Dumbledore, but this was a man with too much power to simply turn his back on.

Dumbledore was an enemy who told Barty last year that Harry surviving a fight with Timmy ‘wasn’t his concern’. Harry was pretty sure that was easily translated to: ‘I hope he dies’.

Apparently he was no longer needed as a Timmy shield and Dumbledore was ready for a Harry Potter-free world. Which was a shame, because Harry had no intention of dying any time soon.

“I wanted to speak with you some more about last year,” Dumbledore told Harry, entirely ignoring Hermione’s presence in front of them. “I understand why you said what you said. It was clever, the way you played the Minister just right.”

Harry hummed as he pretended to misunderstand him. “‘M not sure what you mean, sir.”

“Well,” Dumbledore chuckled again-

Which was both annoying and ominous.

“It isn’t your name being torn apart in the papers, is it?”

“Harry doesn’t control the newspapers,” Hermione sneered from in front of them.

“Of course not.” Dumbledore’s voice was still gentle, but Harry saw the flash of emotion in his eyes.

Dumbledore clearly didn’t like being interrupted.

“I was simply saying that it was a cunning lie,” Dumbledore went on. “I wish you would have been honest, of course, but I can see now why you said what you said.”

Harry hummed again, and felt nothing but relief as they turned in to the corridor that led to the Ravenclaw Tower. Hermione gave him a beseeching look, but Harry quickly shifted his eyes from side to side.

Harry might stand a chance if Dumbledore attacked if he didn’t have to watch out for Hermione. Hermione was a genius, but she wasn’t a strong dueler.

He was struck with a sudden question-

Had Dumbledore intentionally waited to ambush him on a night he knew he would be with Hermione and not Susan?

Harry wouldn’t put it past him.

“Harry?”

Harry glanced up at Dumbledore. “Yes sir?”

Dumbledore’s smile was kind, and gentle, and fake. “I said don’t you think the time to tell the truth is here now? When people can prepare to protect themselves from Voldemort? Just as you are teaching the students to do?”

Harry mentally counted how many steps until Hermione could enter the tower.

Thirteen.

“I think people are preparing to protect themselves, aren’t they?” Harry said lightly.

Eleven.

“Voldemort’s a more feared and powerful wizard than Barty Crouch,” Dumbledore argued.

“Barty Crouch fooled you, didn’t he?” Harry asked.

“He did,” Dumbledore admitted. Harry could hear the annoyance in his tone at having to say it. “But if the threat of Voldemort isn’t taken seriously then people could get hurt Harry, they could die.”

Five.

“I suppose someone should do something about that.”

Hermione gave Harry another panicked look as they pulled up next to the Ravenclaw Tower. Harry just blinked at her and willed her to just go inside.

“Goodnight Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said with both false cheer and as an obvious dismissal. “Have a pleasant rest of your week.”

Hermione bit her lip as she watched Harry for a moment before darting forward and hugging him. “Scream if he tries anything,” she breathed directly in his ear. “Tell the portraits to get Snape.”

“Night Mione,” Harry said casually as Hermione pulled off him. “I’ll see you at breakfast like usual.”

And if he wasn’t there, at least Hermione would know who was to blame.

Dumbledore twiddled his thumbs together and inspected the corridor ceiling while Harry waited for Hermione to answer her riddle and get in the common room. As soon as the tower door closed behind her, he planted his feet to the ground and turned a hard look on the headmaster.

“I said what I said and I’m not saying anything different now,” he said shortly. His fingers were wrapped tightly around his dagger handle as he glared up in Dumbledore’s cool blue eyes. He didn’t need to hold up pretenses anymore. Hermione was gone and, as Snape said, the lines had been drawn last year. “What did you really want to talk to me about?”

“I think you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Dumbledore said quietly. “I am not your enemy Harry.”

“Must have gotten confused when you expelled me,” Harry sneered. “Or when you took me from my godfather and dropped me off with the Dursley’s.”

“Harry, I truly never meant for your life to be so difficult,” Dumbledore said.

If Harry didn’t have such an inherent distrust of every word the man said he would almost believe him.

“I have always wanted the best for you.”

“Well you did a shit job, didn’t you?” Harry spat. “So what do you want from me now?”

Dumbledore seemed to sense that his empty platitudes were getting him nowhere because he drew himself up and studied Harry closely over the top of his half moon spectacles.

“Has Sirius told you of the Order of the Phoenix?”

“Sirius didn’t,” Harry said with partial honesty. “But yeah, I know about your gang.”

Dumbledore didn’t seem to know how to respond to that for a moment because his scrutiny only increased. “I would like to offer you an invitation to join.”

“No thanks,” Harry laughed coolly. “I’m not taking orders from anyone.”

“I see.” Dumbledore’s sudden frown had Harry drawing up on his magic, he had to be prepared in case he decided to attack any second. “And if Voldemort were to offer you a position within his ranks?”

“I’d tell him to fuck off too,” Harry said. “If that’s all?”

“It is not,” Dumbledore said. He stared right in Harry’s eyes as he asked his next question. “Have you been having any odd dreams? Visions? Pain in your scar?”

“No,” Harry lied forcefully. “I haven’t.”

How did he know?

Harry carefully checked his occlumency shields as Dumbledore gave him a disbelieving look.

“Are we done now?” Harry asked rudely.

“We are,” Dumbledore said with a note of finality. “I regret where we stand.”

That didn’t seem to need a reply, so Harry nodded and began backing away carefully.

“Oh, Harry?”

Harry paused with his back to the wall. “Yes?”

Dumbledore wasn’t even pretending to smile anymore as he looked down his crooked nose at Harry. “I was surprised you didn’t ask me why I chose you as prefect.”

Harry ran his thumb reassuringly over the handle of the dagger hidden in his right hand. “Snape chose me.”

“No,” Dumbledore let out a huff of a laugh. A mirthless laugh that put Harry on an edge so sharp he could nearly scream. “Severus didn’t choose you, he chose Theodore Nott. I selected you instead. I had hoped that it would endear me to you in some way. I can see I was mistaken. Goodnight.”

This time it was Dumbledore who stupidly turned his back to Harry and casually strode back down the opposite end of the corridor.

Harry didn’t move for a long moment. He just stood in the corridor with his back to the wall as he considered the entire conversation.

What the fuck?

It took Harry twice the usual time to get back to the Slytherin rooms, as he kept peering around corners and kept his back to the walls. But when he did, he immediately got his pensieve out of his trunk and warded his bed for privacy. He carefully pulled the memory from his mind, as Snape had shown him to do, and put it in the bowl.

34%

Anything Timmy was doing that was making Dumbledore take an interest in him had to be a bad thing.

Harry just wished he knew what it meant.



He did come to a decision that night though. An easy decision that he enacted the very next morning at breakfast.

“Hey Theo?”

Harry looked up at the Head Table and caught Snape’s curious eyes for a moment before moving his own angry ones over to Dumbledore’s cold blue eyes.

“Here.” Harry unpinned the prefect badge from his chest and slid it across the table to Theo without ever breaking eye contact with Dumbledore. “That’s yours. I don’t fuckin’ want it.”

35%

Susan had brought it up last night, insisting on a sleepover in his bed.

’Why does it matter if Snape chose you or Theo?’ she asked. ‘You know he loves you.’

‘He didn’t want me to be prefect,’ Harry said. ‘He likes Theo more.’

‘That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.’ Susan rolled her eyes. ‘He probably just thinks Theo does a better job of following the rules.’

‘He does,’ Harry admitted. ‘It’s fine that he picked him, I guess. But... why didn’t he tell me?’

‘Ask him,’ Susan said. ‘But don’t start a fight with him, I think that’s what Dumbledore wants. Snape cares about you, Dumbledore doesn’t.’

And that was pretty decent advice.

So was Theo’s input, which had been sarcastic and rude and well received.

’You killed a man on school property, I haven’t,’ he said. ‘That’s probably the only reason Snape picked me over you.’

That stupid badge looked better on Theo’s chest than it did Harry’s anyway.

Harry was planning on just ignoring the whole thing, not wanting to start an argument over something so dumb. Snape had raised his brows at Harry in class on Thursday, but since he didn’t ask, Harry didn’t offer up anything.

He didn’t even like being prefect.



After classes Harry obediently trooped down to the library with his friends, the letter in hand, prepared to do exactly what McGonagall told him to do.

“You’re turning down their offer?” Draco gasped, somehow reading Harry’s messy handwriting from across the table.

“Yep.”

“But why?” Ron asked him. “I thought you wanted to play professionally?”

“Not as a fuckin understudy,” Harry muttered.

“Who offered you an understudy position?”

How is he so sneaky?!

Fred and George were standing by their table, nearly identical smiles on their faces.

Harry was going to start putting up privacy shields for every conversation he had in the future.

“Tutshill Tornados,” he said. “I’m turning it down though.”

“Good,” Fred said seriously. “You’re better than that. Later Harry.”

Harry watched Fred and George just abruptly turn and walk away. He looked at his friends with nothing less than badly concealed surprise.

“What the fuck?”

The girls started giggling, but Harry was relieved to see that the guys looked just as confused as he was. Except Blaise, Blaise looked annoyingly amused.

“He’s playing hard to get,” Susan said with a teasing light in her eyes. “Merlin Harry.”

“How’s that hard to get?” Ron asked. “If Harry said ‘oi Fred let’s get back together’, Fred would do it.”

“Well duh,” Hermione drawled. “But he’s not going to ask Harry first this time.”

“Why??” Neville frowned. “Why not just ask Harry back out?”

“Harry is right here,” Harry scowled. “But... what Neville said. Why not just ask me out?”

“Because you ended it,” Luna said with a logical tone Harry wasn’t used to hearing from her. “He doesn’t want to pressure you.”

“Or he wants to get even by telling me to piss off if I ask him out,” Harry said.

Harry ground his teeth together when all of his friends started snickering at that.

“He won’t,” Theo said confidently. “Quit being a prat and just put him out of his misery.”

“Just for that, I’m going to be a prat even longer,” Harry smirked. He added his signature to the bottom of the refusal letter and rolled it up tightly.

He didn’t have to be a bloody understudy and he didn’t have to take orders from Theo.

Not even if he was the prefect now.



Harry was woken from his sleep, again, that night with a sharp pain in his scar.

Leave me the fuck alone, he thought hatefully. Every time you bother me is just making me want to kill you faster.

The painful probing abruptly disappeared, allowing Harry to let out a breath of relief.

Until it returned.

“Argh,” Harry hissed between his teeth as he clutched his forehead. The pain in his scar was so sharp it felt like someone was taking his dagger and driving it straight through his skull. This pain didn’t feel angry anymore, more curious now. And apparently curiosity hurt worse than anger.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” he growled. FUCKIN QUIT YOU NOSELESS DICK.

Harry kept clutching his forehead, trying fruitlessly to apply pressure to relieve the pain, until it seemed like an eternity had passed and the pain disappeared. He let out a few panting breathes and pulled his hands back- only to stare down in horror at them.

You made me bleed, he thought hatefully towards the source of where the pain had appeared from. I’m going to remember that.

What was the point in Timmy trying to dig in Harry’s mind when obviously he hadn’t been successful so far? Harry ignored all of his annoying visions, not even letting a flash of them make their way in his head. And he would feel it if Timmy made it past his barriers to access his own thoughts and memories, so what was the point?

He looked down at his hands again and scowled.

He’d probably need to go tell Snape about this. It seemed like the sort of thing that he’d be pissed if Harry didn’t share.

36%

“What else did Albus tell you?”

Harry shrugged down at his lap again, not really wanting to lie, but also not wanting to fight. “Can I sleep here? I’m tired.”

“You may,” Snape said without hesitation. “Did this conversation with Albus have anything to do with your decision to give Theodore your position as prefect?”

Harry turned on the sofa to stretch out and look up at the stone ceiling while he tried to think of an answer. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets?” he said evasively. “Cause that’s what you said.”

“We do not. Though I would appreciate if you could imagine yourself in my position, even for just a moment.”

Harry peeked over at Snape at that odd request and thought he saw a bit of regret in his dark eyes.

“I had only barely convinced you of the truth that I do not prefer Theodore to you, and that I was in no way attempting to replace you,” Snape said, ignoring Harry’s embarrassed blush at the reminder of his jealousy over the summer. “Then the badges arrived and to my surprise, Theodore did not receive it and you did. And you seemed more pleased than I had anticipated you would be, considering I did not believe you would even desire the position. If you had been in my shoes, would you have admitted that I had not actually selected you?”

Since Snape was one of less than a dozen people in the world that Harry actually liked, he turned back to the ceiling and tried to consider it honestly.

“Probably not,” he finally said. “But I wasn’t happy that Dumbledore was the one who told me, was I?”

“I should have told you,” Snape said. “I apologize for not telling you myself. And I apologize that you felt the need to give up your position, I am willing to speak with Theodore about it if you would like.”

“Nah.” Harry summoned the blanket from the basket by the fireplace and kicked his shoes off. “I was a bit of a hypocrite, wasn’t I? Walking around with a badge while I don’t give a damn about the rules. No better than the bloody police.”

Snape snorted, apparently amused by Harry’s self-evaluation. “Was that the entirety of your conversation with Albus? You have not left out any other details?”

“Nope.” Harry rolled on his side and gave Snape a tired smirk. “But I did talk to Tonks tonight.”

“Oh?”

Was Snape... blushing?

Interesting.

“She says hi,” Harry told him. “And she says she’s an excellent friend to have.”

Snape muttered an especially colorful curse under his breath before flicking his wand to dim the lights. “Go to sleep brat. And rest easy knowing that despite your exceedingly numerous bouts of migraine inducing chaos, you are quite irreplaceable to me.”

“Night Sevvv,” Harry drawled to Snape’s back with a grin as Snape quickly made his way back to his room.



Harry waited for the quiet snick of Snape’s door before he cleared his mind and pulled all his focus to the center of his forehead:

Watch your back Timmy.

Then, just to be as annoying as humanly possible, he sent him a replay of burning Quirrell to death with his bare hands back in first year.

Harry drifted off to sleep with a satisfied smile on his face.

Chapter End Notes

Up Next: Fred loves the DADA Club.

37%

Harry laughed, and it was one of Fred’s favorite laughs of his. A mocking laugh that made you wonder what terrible thing was about to come out of his mouth.

“Come up here and you can help me demonstrate,” Harry offered with an innocent smile and a sweet tone to his voice.

Apparently the kid really was more intelligent than he was brave because he shrunk back and shook his head quickly. “Nevermind,” he mumbled.

“No?” Harry looked around the crowd slowly. “Someone want to come help me show Xander why I’m teaching this tonight?”

“Don’t do it,” George whispered.

Too late.

Fred’s hand shot up in the air.

“I’ll help you,” he grinned.

Harry’s eyes met his own, and he tilted his head just a bit before shrugging. “‘Kay. Clear off guys,” he told his friends.

Fred bound up to the stage to Harry, wondering if Harry remembered their ridiculous ‘duel’ back in Lockhart’s dueling club.

“You trust me?” Harry asked him quietly.

Fred didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

Harry’s responding smile was more joyful than the sharp thing he showed to the others. “‘Kay so stand here-“ Harry pointed him to the far end of the platform, in front of the wall. “And all you’re gonna do is disarm me, got it?”

“And what are you going to do?” Fred asked wryly.

Harry held the dagger up and smirked. “I’m gonna show them how knives can sometimes beat magic. Ready?”

Fred didn’t exactly trust the sharp dagger in Harry’s hand, the one he brought back covered in Snape’s blood at the end of the tournament, but he did trust Harry. He backed up to the other end of the platform and raised his wand.

“When I’ve died will someone make sure my mum puts ‘the better twin’ on my tombstone?” he called out to the crowd, drawing a laugh from the eager students.

“I’m having her put ‘the dumb twin’ obviously,” George called back.

Fred ignored his brother and gave Harry a lopsided smile. “Ready when you are.”

“This is gonna hurt for a minute,” Harry warned him. He held his wand in his left hand, his knife in his right. “Go.”

Never let it be known that Fred wasn’t a Gryffindor— even if that just meant he occasionally had more courage than brains.

“Expelliarmus!” he cried. He knew Harry was letting himself be disarmed, but it was still heartening to actually catch his wand and hold it up.

“Oh nooo, he has my wand, what will I do?” Harry drawled in a bored tone. “Oh. I know.”

Fred knew Harry was going to throw his knife at him, but it didn’t stop a low groan from escaping his mouth when Harry’s knife landed in his left forearm, causing him to drop Harry’s wand.

“Accio wand.”

There were cheers as Harry caught his wand and then easily disarmed Fred while Fred was distracted by the knife lodged in his arm.

“This is gonna hurt again,” Harry said quietly after he jogged over to him. “Deep breath.”

Fred didn’t even have a chance to breathe in before Harry yanked the knife out and immediately placed his hand on the deep cut.

“Heal,” Harry murmured. Fred victoriously raised his left arm to cheers from the others.

“I’ve been healed!” he laughed.

His arm still hurt like mad, but there wasn’t an injury anymore.

Harry twirled his wrist a bit and cleaned the blood off Fred and the floor before he turned back to the crowd of students.

“Anyone still think a knife can’t help you in a fight?” He quirked one of his brows up as everyone silently shook their heads.

The Ravenclaw boys face was bright red- properly embarrassed Fred hoped.

“So everyone get a knife from one of these boxes, then line up in the middle, facing the Gryffindor table.”

Harry waited until his friends hopped down from the platform to begin rearranging students and handing out knives before he gave Fred another small grin. “Here,” he handed him his wand back. “Thanks for doing that.”

“Anything for you,” Fred winked then immediately turned away from Harry to join the others.

He didn’t have to look back to know that Harry was confused, which was part of the plan. Another bloody good one in his opinion.

Step One: Make sure Harry knows that he wants to be friends if nothing else.

Step Two: Flirt with him at every given opportunity until he realizes Fred wants to be more than friends if he does. Which, if the bruise on Kaleb’s face was any indicator, he does.

Step Three: Give Harry the chance to pursue him. He didn’t want Harry to feel pressured to get back together, so he was planning on letting Harry decide when and how they did.

Fred could be patient sometimes. If the reward was worth it.

And Harry was.



The rest of the meeting went brilliantly.

Harry conjured up a whole ton of cushions and stuck them to the wall behind where the Gryffindor table usually was. He stood in the center of the room and let everyone watch as he threw his knife, sticking it right to the cushion, before summoning it back.

“Like that,” Harry said. “I’m gonna put up a shield so nobody gets stabbed by anyone on accident, yeah? If you do get hurt, tell me. Don’t be a snitch.”

Fred, George, and most of the muggleborns and half-bloods snickered at the confusion on the pureblooded students’ faces at Harry’s request.

Fred stared hard at the cushion stuck to the wall across from him, trying to mimic Harry’s stance while everyone else began enthusiastically throwing their knives.

He pulled the knife back and inhaled, then exhaled as he threw it forward with as much force as he could.

“YES!” Fred threw a fist in the air as his knife stuck to the cushion. It wasn’t the exact spot he had been aiming for, but it still hit!

“Good one Fred.” Fred turned a joyful face around just in time to see Harry wink, then smirk and walk away.

Merlin.

He loves that mad man.