“Are you related to Jamie here?” Sirius asked, his voice loud.

Their professor laughed. “Unless my father isn’t who I thought he was, no. He’s not my brother, cousin or anything else.”

“Father?” Sirius asked.

“It’d be a medical miracle since I’m nineteen and he’s seventeen. He wasn’t even conceived at the time.” Harry smirked wickedly.

James groaned. “Between Professor Potter and Sirius, I think I’ll be insane by the time the year is out.” He confided in Lily, who was sat next to him by some off chance.

By dinner that evening, rumours were flying about Professor Potter. They all had a distinct similarity – he was cool, a good teacher and fair. Other rumours, however, passed from him being trained in the depths of the Amazon by native witch doctors to him being Voldemort’s secret son who rebelled against him and his reign. Harry snorted at that, struggling to suppress the urge to laugh himself sick.

“Responded very well to our pranks. He’s firm, but he knows how to laugh. Hates segregation and prejudice.” Sirius added.

“Sounds like James.” Peter grinned.

"Yeah, but no one believes me when I say he’s James’ son from the future.” Sirius pouted.

James rolled his eyes. “That’s because he’s not. Anything else?”

James broke through the silence spell. "WHAT?"

Voldemort grinned malevolently. "It's a spell I've been working on. I've been aching to try it out, but for some reason my Death Eaters were not too keen on having their souls sent to hell for endless torment. I wonder why. . ."

James attempted to look un-affected by these words, but failed miserably.

"Don't worry Sirius. The minute we get out of this vault I will personally see you freed."

"How?"

James smacked Sirius upside the head. "You dolt, I'm the one who switched secret keepers. If I say it, they'll believe it. Or else."

"Yeah, I made the team. Not much happened that year. We fought a mountain troll; we found a dead unicorn in the forbidden forest; we illegally kept a dragon; we-"

James was in shock. "WHY IN GOD'S NAME WAS THERE A TROLL IN HOGWARTS!? AND WHY WERE YOU NEAR IT? AND WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THE FOREST? IT'S FORBIDDEN!"

Harry snorted. "Yeah dad, you're really one to lecture on staying out of the forest."

"Nice try Harry, very nice. You almost had me distracted there. Not many can distract me, you know."

Remus had to laugh at this. "Right Padfoot." Suddenly, Remus jerked his head upwards and gestured wildly, "Look! A flying elephant!" Sirius immediately whirled around, studying the sky furiously.

"Geeaarrdfi, don't do that, are you trying to kill me or something?"

"Yes, Harry, I've been your friend for six years and helped you through a million conflicts just so that I could slowly kill you by touching your shoulder when you least expect it."

'Why is it that I can't just use him for his knowledge and not care what happens to him? I just - ahh, there's his hand again. I've got to find a way to get him to stop that.

"I tried this old Muggle trick I read about," Draco said proudly. "I just pictured Hermione and Ginny naked."

Hermione slapped Draco before she even had a chance to think about it, and Ginny fled the room, staring determinedly at the floor.

Draco put a hand to his face and looked at Harry. "Harry! She hit me!" he protested.

"Don't look at me for sympathy, I'm a heartbeat away from hitting you myself."

"Ohhhh no. I just apologized, didn't I?" Draco looked completely put out. "Huh. I kind of expected that lightning would strike the day a Malfoy apologized. By all rights, I should have burst into flames."

"Oh, come off it, Potter, as if you haven't broken the rules loads of times."

"Yes, but I've never broken the rules to gossip about boys with my bloody arch rival."

"I prefer arch nemesis," Malfoy said absently.

"The point is, I propositioned you because I thought we could handle this like adults." Harry snorted. "All right, I thought we could handle it like two horny sixteen year old boys. We snog, we mess around, we have a good time, and that's all it is. Now you, you've gone and mucked it all up by being girly."

"I don't think being shocked senseless by a proposition from my sworn enemy constitutes being girly."

Harry found himself in the utterly unfamiliar situation of wishing Colin Creevey was nearby.

"Good Slytherins? Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"No, no, it's Gryffindors that are the morons."

"Moonbathing. And you think I'm mad. I hate to break it to you, Draco, but you're just not going to be able to get any paler. Give it up."

"Yeah, but how did you know about Draco?"

Ron snorted. "Please, he's been stalking you since we were eleven! And the way you bicker. It's foreplay for preadolescents."

"Hey! I am not preadolescent!" Harry said indignantly.

"No. Just really slow."

"What am I to him? A pathetic bug to be annihilated? An irritating thorn in Voldemort's side?"

"Both, actually. … I'm not talking to you."

"Could have fooled me."

"… can you forgive me for loving you?"

"Never. But I'll forgive you for everything else."

"Right with you there mate. Are we going to be merciful?" Harry asked, hoping the answer would be no. Draco shook his head. "Good, we're going to pay them back for siding with a murderer."

"And he kissed him for the sheer fun of it," Dudley said. "They do it a lot."

"We do not!" Draco said.

"Yes you do," Dudley replied.

"Well maybe we do," Draco gave in and pulled Harry closer for a kiss

"There's your answer. Besides, isn't foolhardy suicidal risk-taking a Gryffindor trait?"

"That's bravery." Sirius corrected.

Harry gave a deliberately nonchalant shrug. "Isn't that what I said?"

"Did I hear hints of 'stupid school-boy rivalry' in his 'far be it from me to interfere'?" Peter finally asked, eyes alight with humor.

"It would not at all surprise me." Snape noted, allowing a small half-smile to grace his face. "He does seem to feel rather strongly about the subject."

Draco removed his left glove and cupped Harry's cold-reddened cheek. "Harry--," he began tenderly, as the tattoo spider crawled from Harry onto Draco's hand. Harry dipped his head slightly, looking intently at Draco as he continued. "--if you try either of them, it'll be you saying hello to Diggory."

Draco looked up into the sky and smiled. "You're avenged, Father. Now, tell Potter to get his nancyboy arse back down here so that I can beat some sense into him."

Draco turned to Martin. "Would you mind terribly, killing me now?"

Hermione: Tamahome!

Harry: Miaka!

Hermione: Tamahomeeeee!

Harry: Miiiiaka!

Draco: What *are* you two jabbering about?

Hermione: Sorry, obscure Muggle thing.

Harry: She has got to be the most mild-mannered being of utter evil I’ve ever seen. I rather wish the real Voldemort was more like that.

Hermione: Alcohol, the great equalizer.

Harry: How so?

Hermione: It drops everyone’s IQ down to that of a five-year-old.

>"Greetings," he said. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, also known as

Harry: Superman!

Hermione: Clark!

Harry: Bruce!

Hermione: Terry!

Harry: Batman?

Ron: I think you lost me…

Ron: I’m pretty certain that Harry has never been to Hell.

Draco: And he isn’t showing any signs of doing anything which earn him a ticket there. Mores the pity…

Hermione: Worried you’re going to be lonely in your little pit of fire and brimstone?

Draco: (Hermione) Oh, Harry, blatant defiance of authority makes me feel so, so…[his voice lowers to a husky, seductive whisper.]…naughty. UGH!

[Draco doubles over as Hermione elbows him in the gut.]

Hermione: Watch it, boy. I might aim lower next time.

Draco: I didn’t know they had wizarding schools at nudist colonies. Why was I not informed of this?

Harry: And where can we sign up?

Hermione: They’re the Baskin Robins of evil.

Harry: 31 different evil flavors, from good old “maniacal evil” to “insidious underhanded evil.”

"Nice conversation?" Harry managed incredulously.

"Assuming you'd stop glaring at me, yes."

"What ever happened to you trying to kill me?"

"I'm tired of having my ego stomped on, okay?"

"I am not afraid of death. I'd merely like to live a little longer than most."

"Lord Voldemort the ghost. Terrorizing little girls and boys on their first day at Hogwarts. I can see it now."

"Snape's keeping me away from Tom just because Tom works for…" Harry blinked a few times before he could finish the sentence. "…himself…"

“Yes, yes.” Harry muttered before wandlessly sending the note up in flames.

Neville jumped and fell off his bed. “Don’t do that!”

Harry offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I keep forgetting how unnerving it is to others when I don’t use my wand.”

“It’s not the wandless magic that’s unnerving, it’s watching you set things aflame in your hand.”

“It was ridiculously easy, you mean,” the boy returned with a disgusted frown. “You’d think people would elect someone with brains, once in a while. You know, just for the hell of it.”

"Behave," Leander hissed as the two of them stepped past Ronan, into the clearing. "If you offend them, I swear to all the gods I'll break your scrawny neck."

"Welcome, Prince Leander, son of Matthias," a solemn-looking gray-beared centaur intoned. "Welcome, Harry Potter, son of James."

"Hi," Harry offered. "Great to be here."

Leander gave a pained groan. This was going to be hell.

"You aren't a grim, Sirius, you're a regular dog," Harry replied, exasperated.

"A dog with delusions of grandeur," Remus added.

"Ideas above his station."

"Aspirations of grimhood."

Sirius growled. "Bugger off, both of you."

Kerrie nodded happily and squealed when she and Harry stood up. "I'm the tallest girl in all of Diagon Alley!"

Harry grinned. "You're the Princess of the Alley."

"That makes you my Knight."

"And what is our dear Ollie?"

"The Jester!"

Harry burst out laughing and Oliver let out an indignant "Hey!"

She smiled at him as she sat down. “I figured I’d just come right out and tell you I was here. I don’t fancy waking up in a bush somewhere.”

Harry smirked slightly. “How is Dung, by the way?”

“Embarrassed. But you’ve manage to impress Moody.”

“Ah, my life’s goal is complete.”

Harry stepped out of the shower, accompanied by a shriek from Hermione as she hurried to both cover her eyes, and run from the room at the same time. The combination didn't work well, as she banged her hip on the sink, then ran face first into the wall, before finally stumbling out of the room.

Snape turned to him and raised his eyebrows, "It's an ancient dark arts curse that steals the victim's life energy and pulls it into your own. If you're injured, as Potter suggested, it will heal you just as fast as any medical potions. Due to the nature of it, it was banned by every wizarding government in the world, and had anyone that used it executed." He turned back to the rack of swords in front of him and began searching for the sword. Remus looked back to the entrance of the library for a moment, then joined Snape in the search.

'Pansy did all of his homework.’ Harry offered.

‘Hey.’ Draco cried. ‘It wasn’t all of it.’ Suddenly the Slytherin realised his father was at the end of the table. ‘Oh bollocks.’ He groaned, dropping his head to the table top with a thud.

Harry turned to Ron in delight. "Ron, you have the Headmaster worried. Good for you! We each have our own little Dark Lord after us. Ahh…the joy of it!" Harry said with a delighted sigh.

Ron snorted in annoyance and said, "Sure give me the old guy," and Harry began to laugh.

"Prata?" Severus suggested.

"Are you calling me a prat?" Harry asked in mock outrage.

"No, you dunderhead. It's Portuguese for silver."

“How is a sword going to show me the truth?” Harry asked. “I mean it is a weapon.”

“This sword was not made to be a wea-“

“Looks like a weapon to me.” He interrupted, eying the very large sword.

The boy and his friend passed through the door to the hospital wing. When in doubt argue with yourself until the decision is made for you. Though Harry still felt guilty for not helping.

Twenty minutes later Draco’s pride made him lever himself up and proceed to erase all evidence that he had ever touched the floor from his person. He slowly made his way across to the bathroom and nearly screamed when he looked into the mirror and saw his hair sticking up in several different directions. Look just like Potter. I do not need to see that first thing in the morning. Fifteen minutes after that Draco’s hair was perfectly slicked back and ready to take on wind, world, and light to mid-weight falling objects.

“Potter,” Snape snapped from behind him. “Detention, tomorrow, Filch, eight o’clock.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged. “Damn it, this is the last time I save the world; I swear!”

"Hmm," the Potions Master/spy replied, which—in Snapese—meant; 'That was terribly clever and I am very impressed.' Or, Harry thought more likely, 'Well, I suppose you could have bungled that worse if you really tried.'

"So allow me to make a supposition here—and it may be merely a wild guess, since it ought to be completely improbable and entirely idiotic. Did you, by chance, formulate this whole half-baked plan on your own, with only the help of Miss Granger to save you from your staggering recklessness?" he demanded, dark eyes glittering angrily.

"Um. Sort of."

"I see. And did you inform absolutely anyone in the Order as to your monumental witlessness?"

"Ah…no, not really. They wouldn't have let us do it, you see."

"Really. What, do you suppose, may have been the reason behind that?"

Luckily, Death Eater Barbie chose that moment to saunter in, balancing a large silver tray topped with an ornate vase. MacNair joined the circle, standing beside Harry. Lucius stood next to his master and turned to face the room, giving them his best Vanna White smile. For the whitest possible sneer, use Crest! Harry thought.

"Cripes, my ankle. Aw, I hate it when I'm all cliché."

"Dear Merlin, the less I hear about your epidemic of sexual conquests, the better. Why two hours? Why, for pity's sake?"

"And anyways what would you rather have; a dull, dreary life filled with tea and housecleaning, or sparkling bright adventure and a dashing lad intent on fulfilling your every fantasy?"

Snape's lip twitched. "All of them? Including the one where I get to bash Dumbledore repeatedly round the head with a sock filled with lemon drops? The one where I win the million-galleon lottery and retire? The one where I turn the entire Gryffindor House into randy armadillos and set them loose in a ten-pin bowling establishment?"

“He’ll find out, Severus,” said the werewolf.

“What in name of hell are you talking about? When did I give you permission to use my first name, and what are you doing here during the summer?” demanded an outraged Snape. “I thought you had that nice little cottage in Cornwall.” Lupin looked a bit shocked.

“I do, don’t I?” he murmured, then seemed to come back to himself. “You can’t keep it a secret much longer, Severus. He’ll find out about you knowing that he knew about you knowing about it.”

“What it?” screamed Snape. “And who’s he?” Remus gave him a knowing look.

“Harry,” he said. Snape sighed. He didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Look Lupin. If this is about his potions grade, the Headmaster already told me I couldn’t fail him three years in a row.” He was disappointed in that, but took solace in the idea of failing him during his sixth-year.

“But-” said Lupin.

"If you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to the Headmaster,” said Snape through gritted teeth.

“Sit down, Severus,” he said. Dumbledore studied the Lego version of Snape for a moment before turning to him. “I have a favour to ask of you.” Severus braced himself.

“I need you to go fetch Harry Potter for me. The Dursleys have been horribly abusing the boy. His letters are full of cheerful stories but his friends assure me that Harry is never allowed to be that happy.”

“Why should I go fetch him?” asked Snape. “Lupin is just downstairs.” Dumbledore looked stumped for a moment, then his face brightened.

“Remus is going on a mission for me. A long mission, very far away from here. He won’t be returning for ages. Ages. And no, I can’t fetch Harry myself, because I’m not allowed to leave Hogwarts, despite leaving the castle countless times in the books. And no, I can’t ask one of the other professors to do it, since they all have busy and fulfilling lives outside of Hogwarts that I couldn’t possibly intrude on.” Dumbledore ran out of breath. Severus searched for another objection.

“The Weasl-” he began.

“Are not safe for Harry,” said Albus quickly. “Yes. They’re not safe.”

“Hagrid c-” tried Snape again.

“Too big,” said Albus. Severus gave him an incredulous look.

“Hagrid is too big to pick up Harry Potter,” said Snape slowly. Albus looked a bit sheepish, but nodded his agreement.

“You can’t be serious,” said Snape, since that’s what he always had to say to Albus in these situations.

“Just go fetch Harry Potter,” said Dumbledore with a strange gleam in his eye. “Or else you could stay and start brewing a love potion for me and-”

“I’ll go!” Snape leapt up and out of the room. Behind him, Albus fondly pet the little lego figure of him self, then placed it back in his drawer.

“Ah, Remus. I’m glad you’re here,” said Dumbledore as Harry and Snape found seats.

“You told me to be here waiting, Headmaster,” said Lupin. “You said it was important to the plot.”

“What do we do now?” asked Harry.

“Well, first we have to injure you,” said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“You can’t have a meaningful talk with Severus unless you’re in the hospital wing, though I suppose Severus’ chambers would do in a pinch.” The Headmaster looked thoughtful. “It’s a shame to waste a good hospital scene though.”

“I’m sorry.” She finally said, pronunciation awful but the words still this side of recognizable.

“You are?” He blinked slowly, once. “I’m afraid that’s not going to keep me from destroying you all in the end.” There was freedom to being in a foreign country where no one spoke his language. He could tell them all sorts of things and they simply wouldn’t have a clue.

When the picture – for this was one of those strange contraptions that printed the picture immediately – was shoved in his face, he simply sighed, took the proffered pen, and scrawled on the back, in his spideriest handwriting, “Best of wishes until I come back and raze this infernal country to the ground. Lord Voldemort.”

“Yes, something amuses me. This Imperial Dragon Circle thinks it can execute me. I find that highly amusing.” Lucius sneered at the man.

“Oh?” said the man. “Well then, allow me to introduce myself. I am called Flame. I am the chief assassin of the Imperial Dragon Circle. I will be your executioner this evening.”

Voldemort eased the door to the boy’s room open, and crept inside. There, he found a small surprise. The boy was awake, and watching. Voldemort smiled, cold and deadly. The boy was losing sleep.

“I assume this is about last weekend?” Harry asked casually, as if talking to a business partner, not his mortal enemy.

“You’re right of course. Oh well, I’ll do it later tonight. Right now, Albus has some kind of ritual that he wants to show me. It must be important, or he wouldn’t have traveled so far to do it. Give me about two hours; the password is ‘Victorious.’ I look forward to seeing you again Minerva. Will you be staying for dinner?” Harry asked.

“Of course I am, Harry. I’ll see you in two hours.” Minerva made to close the connection, but paused for a final dig into the old Headmaster. “And Harry? Try not to laugh too hard when Albus fails in his ritual. He’s getting old, and his ego is probably fragile.” Then the connection closed.

Diving for cover behind one of the couches in his room, Harry took a bit of time to think. “Accio crazy man.”

Consiglio screamed as he felt himself get thrown past his attacker and towards one of the windows that had been cracked in the early stages of the duel. Calling out a stereotypical “NOOOOOOOOO,” as he flew through the window he barley had time to realise what a bad idea going after Mr. Black had been before his body hit the street below.

"Last one in is a jar of some sort of disgusting matter," the Professor called out. "Possibly something that smells strongly of sulfur."

Terry blinked, which people often did when Draco launched into one of his tirades against injustice. Draco felt that the blinks signalled agreement, and regarded Terry with slightly less hauteur.

"Aha! Potter's a smuggler, I knew it! That's piracy, that is! Dragon piracy!"

Hermione and Terry stared at him as if he had gone crazy. "Don't worry, Hermione," Terry said. "You know how he gets. Once he's calmer, I'll talk him around."

Draco gave a cry of righteous outrage.

"You sound like an enraged teakettle," Terry told him.

"Don't call me Goldstein," Anthony said. "What's going on?"

"I must be kept away from the outside world," Draco informed him. "Invoke the power of your amulet to bar the doors!"

"It's an inhaler, Draco, for the last time."

"They're my friends," Hermione said from under her bedclothes, "and I love them."

Draco made a truly terrible face that unfortunately she could not appreciate, and said, "I think you have Stockholm Syndrome."

Madam Pince gave them that Mr. Malfoy You Are My Least Favourite Ravenclaw Ever look, but Draco accepted her undying librarianly hatred in a good cause.

Potter began to tap against his teeth with the nib of his quill. If Draco sharpened his ruler he could stab Potter with it repeatedly before anyone had a chance to summon medical assistance. He heard Azkaban was lovely and peaceful this time of year.

He forbore, reached out and firmly drew Potter's arm down to the table, then let go of Potter's wrist. "This? Must. Stop."

"Look," said Potter. "I'm not shouting in the library or anything, what am I supposed to do, drop dead?"

"Yes," Draco replied instantly. "That would be super."

Narcissa had said ‘come with me’ and foolishly - out of desperation for a toilet - he had followed her.

Yes, she had actually lead him to a toilet, which he almost kissed with relief before using, only to turn around and find that she had led him straight into Lucius’ private bathroom, where a very embarrassed Lucius was trying to pretend he wasn’t playing with battleships in the tub.

"Nothing in this family is ever quite as it seems to someone outside."

"Really?" Harry deadpanned. "You think so?"

"Mmm..." Lucius replied lazily. "Would you believe that, on top of the fact that Narcissa is transvestite called Bob, I am actually a woman by the name of Cecillia De Bouffant and Draco is really a limbo-dancing hermaphrodite dwarf called Bong?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Voldemort screamed, lunging forwards to try and retrieve his wand, only to get yanked back by a very irate, very flushed and very hormonally-charged Harry Potter.

"What is this?" Harry demanded, kicking the Dark Lord in the shin. "Star Wars?"

"Do you want to have a go at convincing me now?" he asked.

Snape held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Oh no, I think you’ve made a wise decision, Potter, and would just like you to know that I support you 100 percent. The magical world is a dangerous, dangerous place."

"Can’t you put aside your feud with a man who’s been dead for a decade for five minutes?" Minerva hissed at him.

"I’m merely respecting the boy’s wishes," Snape defended, not very convincingly. "It’s what they would have wanted."