My Summer Ends

"Are you nervous?" Minerva asked as she and Harry waited for the arrival of the Hogwarts Express.

Both Dumbledore and Dippet felt it would be best if they were to join their peers on the carriage ride to the school.

"Not as much as I should be," Harry replied.

He felt unusually calm. An unexpected feeling especially knowing that he was likely to meet his grandfather, or even great grandfather? He couldn't be certain which. His knowledge on the Potter family tree extended only as far as his mother and father, and nothing beyond.

As much as he himself had not tried to learn about them, none had seen fit to speak of them to him either. Dumbledore could have, as could Mr or Mrs Weasley during the many weeks he had spent with them over the various summers.

Even more so, Sirius and Remus should have taken it upon themselves, but they had not.

As with everything else in his life, Harry had been left in the dark.

He swallowed down the lump of anger and bitterness that formed. Feeling such a way would solve nothing. Sirius was dead, and he would never again see the others he had known.

"Here it comes," Minerva announced, pointing to the billowing smoke approaching from in the distance.

They watched in silence as the scarlet steam engine rattled to a halt on the platform at Hogsmeade before the dozen or so doors of the train banged open.

Wave after wave of students disembarked, heading for the carriages as an unknown yet familiar sentence to Harry rent the air.

"FIRST YEARS!" it called. "ALL FIRST YEARS TO THE END OF THE PLATFORM."

The diminutive children clad in their plain robes scampered eagerly towards a man that Harry did not recognise, though unmissable by the large lantern he held aloft.

"Were we ever really that small?" he asked curiously.

Minerva snorted.

"You weren't much taller when you arrived here."

Harry frowned thoughtfully.

The girl had been taller than him, though he now towered above her considerably.

"Have I grown that much?"

Minerva nodded.

"You've had quite the growth spurt, Mr Evans."

She had taken to addressing him as such since he'd informed her of the change, her excuse being that she thought she may slip up if she didn't. Harry knew better, however. She did it to tease him, hoping to get under his skin. Evidently, she had not yet forgiven him for happening upon her the way he had the night he arrived.

Not that he was to blame of course, but the Scot held a grudge nonetheless, though blushed whenever he mentioned it, even to apologise.

"Come on, we should get a carriage before they're all gone," he urged.

Minerva nodded and followed his lead as he made his way towards them.

"MINNIE! Over here!" a voice called.

The girl's expression immediately brightened, and she took Harry by the forearm and dragged him towards another girl that was leaning out of one of the carriages, waving enthusiastically.

"Hello Poppy, how was your summer?" Minerva asked when they reached her.

"Not a bad one," the girl, Poppy, replied, "and who is your friend?"

"Oh, this is Harry Evans, he's going to be with us this year," Minerva introduced him. "Harry, this is Poppy Pomfrey."

Harry froze as he took in the appearance of the other girl.

Without the healer robes, grey hair pulled back into a tight bun, and the fact that she was not sixty years older, he hadn't recognised her. Now that he really looked, even this young, he could see the woman that had healed him on several occasions.

"Is he okay?" Poppy asked worriedly.

"Sorry," Harry replied, pulling himself from his stupor. "You just reminded me of someone I used to know. Not in a bad way," he added.

The girl shot him a grin and winked at Minerva.

"An old girlfriend of yours perhaps?"

She flicked her long brown hair over her shoulder dramatically, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Ignore her, Harry," Minerva sighed. "If you let her, Poppy will not miss an opportunity to wind you up."

"Minerva is a liar, Harry," Poppy whispered before stepping into the carriage and patting the seat next to her. "Come on, I don't bite."

Minerva offered him a look of amusement as he sat, not knowing what to say or do through the awkwardness he felt.

Madame Pomfrey was a healer, a rather stern and unyielding woman. He had never thought just what she may have been like as a teenager, but what he had experienced thus far would have been the last thing he considered.

"So, what brings you to Hogwarts, Harry?" Poppy asked.

"Just a change of scenery more than anything else I suppose."

'A big change,' he added internally.

"And how did you meet our Minnie? Has she been taking very good care of you?"

"Poppy," Minerva groaned.

The other girl merely grinned and leaned back in her seat, evidently satisfied with her work.

"You will have to excuse Poppy, Harry. She doesn't know when to shut up at times," Minerva said pointedly, a blush of embarrassing forming on her cheeks.

"Oh, I'm just having some fun," Poppy huffed.

"Well, where are the others? Why can't you have your fun with them?"

"Augusta has become boring since she started dating Francis," Poppy replied, the latter of the names said mockingly. "She used to be fun."

"Is that still going on?" Minerva questioned.

"She's in love with him," Poppy answered, feigning a swoon.

Minerva laughed, and Harry watched the back and forth between the girls, simply pleased the attention was no longer on him.

"But Francis is such a…"

"Pushover?" Poppy finished.

"Yes," Minerva agreed. "I thought she would have gone for someone like Tiberius or Charlus."

"Do you think they would entertain her?" Poppy snorted.

Minerva shook her head, offering Harry an apologetic look as she caught sight of him.

"Sorry, you will meet them all, I'm sure. You'll know what we mean then."

"It's fine," Harry said dismissively, finding himself quite amused by the back and forth between them.

The two girls continued catching up until the carriage came to a stop outside the castle some several moments later.

"I think we're one of the last to arrive," Poppy grumbled. "We'd best get in before the feast starts and all the food is taken."

Harry followed the pair through the Entrance Hall and into a full Great Hall, all four tables lined with the students on both sides.

"So, you managed to wrestle your lips from his face then," Poppy commented to another girl as they approached those clad in red and gold.

"Jealously doesn't suit you, Poppy," the girl returned evenly.

"I'm not jealous," Poppy denied. "Still surprised you ended up with Francis, but not jealous. Where is lover-boy anyway?"

"You know very well where he is," the other girl said irritably. "Frank is a Hufflepuff, so he is at that table."

"Oh, Frank, now, is it?" Poppy teased.

The other girl did not bat an eyelid nor take the bait.

"That is what everyone calls him," she retorted.

Poppy did not continue attempting to goad the girl but turned towards Harry once more.

"This would be Augusta Fawley," she introduced the girl. "She used to be fun, but now spends her days tongue-wrestling with Francis."

Augusta looked familiar also, and it wasn't until Harry cast his mind back to when he visited Arthur Weasley in St Mungo's the previous Christmas that he remembered who she was.

Neville's grandmother!

His experience of being here was growingly only ever more surreal with the more people he met.

Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, and now Augusta Longbottom.

"It's nice to meet you, Augusta," he offered cordially.

The girl nodded and Poppy pulled him into a seat so that he was between her and the newly introduced girl.

"So, Harry, what do you do for fun?" Poppy pressed.

Much to his relief, before he could answer, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and the first years due to be sorted were led inside by Dumbledore.

It was an odd sight for Harry to the say the least, who had only ever witnessed the man acting in capacity as the headmaster. Seeing him fill the role that the girl opposite him once had was another thing he added to the list of things proving to be surreal.

"When I call your name, you will take a seat on the stool where the sorting hat will be placed upon your head. When your house is announced, you will join your peers at the designated table," Dumbledore explained to the nervous first years.

"Stephen Abbott."

Harry tried to catch a glimpse of the boy to see if there was any resemblance to Hannah, but most of his head vanished within the hat.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" it declared only a few seconds later.

Harry joined in with the applause that sounded, his mind drifting away from the sorting as his glanced up and down the table he was seated at.

There was a noticeable absence of red locks that belonged to the Weasleys. Just as unmissable was the bushy-haired brunette he would normally find himself next to.

There was no Neville, no Seamus cracking jokes, nor the lanky Dean Thomas. Katie, Angelina, and Alicia weren't here, and it all felt simply wrong, though there was a head of hair visible that he could not ignore.

Much like his own, it was darker than most, the boy it belonged to sat proudly as he watched the sorting.

That had to be Charlus Potter.

The few photos of James that Harry possessed spoke volumes as to how alike the two were, and if Harry didn't know better, he would swear that it was his father clapping along with the rest of the students.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a tapping of his leg and turned to be faced by the concerned gaze of Minerva who shot him a questioning look.

He merely offered her a nod, expressing that he was okay, even if he couldn't attest to it himself.

It had been overwhelming enough arriving here in the first place, meeting McGonagall, and Dumbledore as he was now, but this had quickly become overwhelming.

He didn't have time to dwell on such, however, as the sorting concluded and Dippet stood to address the room, and once more, Harry felt himself relieved by the unwitting intervention.

"To our new first years, welcome, and to those that have returned, welcome back," the headmaster greeted the students. "Before the start of term notices are read, as is tradition, we will begin with our feast."

With a wave of his wand, the plates and pitchers sat upon the tables were filled with food, and most of the students tucked in hungrily.

Harry too helped himself to a portion of what was on offer, and little conversation took place as everyone was preoccupied by the food in front of them.

It wasn't until dessert was served that the talking resumed.

"What do you think it will be like this year?" Poppy asked.

Minerva shrugged.

"Easier than last, I suppose, but next year will be harder than fifth."

"That makes sense," Poppy mused aloud. "I could do with an easier year."

"Aren't you going to be spending your free time in the hospital wing?" Augusta broke in. "There's nothing easy about being in there. I couldn't think of anything worse than trying to deal with some of the idiots here when their stupidity gets the better of them."

"That's what being a healer is about for the most part," Poppy chuckled. "More often than not, you're putting someone together who did something stupid."

"Well, I'll leave that to you," Augusta muttered. "I'll be content so long as I'm not married off to a complete berk."

"Ah, the joys of being a pureblood," Poppy replied with a smug grin.

Augusta scowled.

"You're not a pureblood, are you Evans?" she asked.

Harry shook his head.

"Half."

"On your mother's side I assume, or you would have a pureblood name. What family are you related to?"

"That's a bit personal, don't you think, Augusta?" Minerva interjected pointedly.

Augusta had the decency to look abashed.

"Apologies, Minnie is right."

Harry shrugged and helped himself to a second slice of treacle tart.

He expected questions, he just had not prepared an answer for that one.

"Watch out, Dippet," Poppy murmured as the headmaster stood once more, a bright smile adorning his features.

"Again, welcome to you all," he began. "Before you all head to bed after what has been a long day, there are a few announcements that must be made. For the first years, please know that the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students. Mr Pringle does not wish to be called to escort those out that venture within."

At the end of the table where Filch would usually lurk was a somehow more unpleasant looking man. His grey moustache was overly long, and where Filch had always seemed to be rather frail, Pringle's arms were thick with muscle.

"Secondly, Professor Dumbledore has asked that I announce that the transfiguration club will resume on Tuesday evenings this year. For any interested, please see him for details. The first meeting will take place tomorrow."

A smattering of excited whispers could be heard throughout the hall, the club evidently popular amongst some students.

"And finally, we do have a new student who will be joining our sixth year this year. Harry Evans was sorted into Gryffindor house over the summer, and I'm sure you will all give him a warm welcome."

Not for the first time in his life, Harry became the centre of interest of the entire school with some students even standing to peer at him from the opposite side of the hall.

"Those are all the pressing matters," Dippet continued. "You will all receive your timetable at breakfast in the morning, so prefects, if you would do the honours of leading your students back to their respective common rooms."

"Come on, you lot," the boy Harry had identified as being Charlus Potter called over the din. "The quicker we get back, the quicker you can bugger off to bed. Oi, where do you think you're going?" he added to a first year heading towards the door.

"To the common room?" the boy answered nervously.

"Ah, well since you know the way, why don't you show the rest of us? It saves me the job."

The boy froze and Charlus took pity on him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and chuckling.

"It's not a good idea to wander off," he advised. "It's easy to get lost in the castle, even when you think you know it. Don't worry, I'll take you."

The boy sagged in relief and followed the older boy towards the exit with the rest of the house following suit.

"So, you're the Evans boy," a drawling voice caught Harry's attention as he left the Great Hall.

For a moment, Harry thought that Draco had somehow followed him here, but the blonde staring at him was broader, his features less pointed. Regardless, the resemblance was uncanny at first glance.

"That would be me," Harry confirmed, his wand ready to be drawn if needed.

The blonde grunted, looking up and down disapprovingly.

"A mudblood then," he commented.

"Leave it, Harry," Minerva urged.

Harry merely smirked.

It seemed that no matter where he went, all Malfoys would be the same. What was different this time, however, was that the words did not get under his skin as they once had. Whenever Draco had used the slur, his blood would immediately boil, but not now.

Instead, he snorted as he eyed the boy in return.

"Blonde hair and nose wrinkled as though you've got shit smeared permanently beneath your nose, you must be a Malfoy."

The boy flushed as the students that had stopped to listen in laughed openly at him.

His fingers twitched towards his wand, something that did not go unmissed by Harry who closed the distance between them.

"Do it," he whispered dangerously, the two stood nose to nose, "unless you're a coward? What are you going to do, tell your father about me?"

The Malfoy said nothing, seemingly caught off guard by Harry's response, or he was simply unused to someone taking a stand against.

"Well?" Harry pressed.

Any amusement that was felt by the other students was all but absent now, the tense stand-off between the teens having taken quite the turn.

"Alright, what's going on here then?" a voice broke in.

"Malfoy here was trying to intimidate me," Harry answered, his gaze still firmly on the blonde. "I was seeing how much of a man of his word he is."

He heard a breath of irritation being released from behind him.

"Where is Black?" Charlus demanded.

"I'm here," another, bored voice replied, and Harry caught sight of a boy, a relative of Sirius it seemed, emerging from the crowd in robes trimmed with green and silver.

"We had an agreement, Black," Charlus muttered. "You keep yours in line, and I'll do the same."

"Abraxus was only jesting," Black defended, "seeing what the new boy was made of."

"And now you have seen," Charlus sighed. "Unless Malfoy wants to fight him, tell him to back off. There doesn't need to be any more problems from here."

The Black seemed to mull the offer over before sighing.

"Come, Abraxus," he instructed, "unless you do wish to draw your wand?"

Abraxus' lip curled, and he smirked before taking a step back.

"Not today," he declared. "I would not wish to waste my energy on one not worth my time."

Harry's nostrils flared in return.

"Better?" Black asked.

Charlus nodded.

"Come one, Evans. There's always another day if Malfoy is willing to grow a pair and demonstrate some of the bluster. Just not the first day of term."

Harry nodded, his eyes remaining on the group of Slytherins watching him intently.

He had surprised himself with his own actions.

If he didn't lose his temper and spells flew, usually, he would try to calm the situation.

Not this time. Today, he was calm, composed but unwilling to back down, and ever aware of the others that may well have attempted to harm him.

Where did that come from? Was this another effect of the ritual, or that he was simply growing up?

He knew not, but he was not intimidated by the likes of Malfoy and his ilk. He had faced the Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord, had survived them despite the odds being stacked against him.

There was not a Malfoy alive that could fill him with the same dread that Voldemort had, nor cause him the same pain.

"You did the right thing, Evans," Charlus's voice interrupted his thoughts. "If you would have backed down, he never would have left you alone. Now, you just have to worry about what he will do next. Not him personally, of course, Malfoy will get someone else to do his dirty work."

Harry merely shrugged.

He was not concerned with Malfoy.

"Don't worry, we look out for each other. My name is Charlus Potter by the way," the boy introduced himself, offering his hand.

Harry accepted it readily.

"Harry Evans."

Charlus nodded.

"So, what brings you to Hogwarts? I heard you say you were a half-blood. I would have thought that one of your parents would have insisted you were here from the start."

"My parents died when I was a baby. I was raised by muggles," Harry answered honestly.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, Evans," Charlus replied sincerely. "I bet this is all a bit overwhelming for you, but it's like I said, we look out for each other. If there's anything you need, let me know, or this prat," he added, grabbing another boy by the shoulder. "This is Tiberius Ogden, he'll be in the dorm with us along with Prewett."

"Nice to meet you, Evans," Ogden greeted him.

"And you," Harry replied. "Only four of us?"

Ogden nodded.

"We are the smallest group of Sixth years by far," he explained. "The Slytherins have twelve boys, the Ravenclaws seven, and the Hufflepuffs nine."

"We were a trio, but with you, we are now four. You have to have a brass pair to be chosen for our house," Charlus added proudly. "Anyway, I must deal with the first years before they get themselves in a flap. I won't be long, Evans. You can keep Ogden here out of trouble for a while whilst I'm gone," he finished with a grin before walking ahead.

"Keep you out of trouble?" Harry asked the frowning Tiberius.

The boy offered him a sheepish grin.

"I tend to speak before engaging my brain," he answered with a shrug. "It gets me into hot water sometimes, especially with the girls."

Harry snorted.

He had a feeling that Tiberius Ogden would provide him with many moments of entertainment in months to come.

"So, how do you know Minnie?" the boy asked curiously.

"She was the first person I met here," Harry explained. "I've spent most of my summer here working on completing my OWLs."

Tiberius grimaced.

"Last year was hard," he groaned. "How did you do only having the summer?"

"I did okay, all O's except for E's in Astronomy and History."

Tiberius whistled appreciatively.

"Not bad, Evans," he complimented. "I got an O in Defence, Care of Magical Creatures, and History. E's in the rest other than Herbology, but I took the A gladly. Plants hate me."

Harry chuckled.

"Potions are the same for me, but I got better over the summer. I think my theory balanced out my practical work."

"Ah, did you meet Sluggy, then?"

"Sluggy?"

"Yeah, Slughorn, the Potions Master."

Harry shook his head.

"No, only Dippet and Dumbledore."

Tiberius nodded thoughtfully.

"I suppose Sluggy would have spent his summer visiting all his famous friends. He's always mentioning them," he mused aloud. "Anyway, he's alright. "We've got a good set of Professors here," he added loudly as they entered the rather chaotic common room.

The room was full of students, likely catching up their friends with what they did over the summer.

"Don't worry, it will calm down in a few days," Tiberius explained. "Ah, hello Minnie, you're looking very fetching," he said with a wink as Minerva made her over with Poppy and Augusta in tow.

"Hello Tiberius," Minerva greeted the boy with a pained sigh. "You're not already going to give me a reason to turn you into an animal of sorts, are you?"

"You can do that?" Tiberius asked worriedly.

Minerva nodded, a grin tugging at her lips.

"Well, I think I should probably leave before I open my trap anymore. It was nice seeing you Evans. Best watch yourself with her," he added in a whisper.

Harry shook his head amusedly.

"Are you okay?" Minerva asked when Ogden had left.

"I'm fine," Harry said dismissively. "I've dealt with people like Malfoy most of my life."

"I think it's a shame you didn't curse the sod," Poppy broke in.

"Yes, because getting detention before you've attended a single class is the best way to make a good impression," Augusta said dryly.

"He wasn't going to do anything," Harry assured the girl. "People like Malfoy are all talk unless they have someone stood behind them."

"True," Augusta conceded. "I imagine Black won't be happy with him. We had a fairly peaceful year last year and if Malfoy has started it all up again, Black will be furious."

"Started what up?" Harry asked.

Minerva shook her head irritably.

"I don't know how it began, but it became a thing for the Slytherins to try and get one of us on our own and scare us a little. Nothing too bad at first, but it escalated, and it became almost a weekly thing that someone would get hurt. That's when Charlus took control of the situation. He made sure we were never alone, and even dealt with a few Slytherins that were the worst. They tried to get him back but failed miserably."

"And then Black, Malfoy, Rowle, and Stebbins tried," Augusta broke in gravely. "It was unpleasant here for almost two years, until Black and Charlus held a meeting. They came to an agreement of sorts, and it just stopped overnight."

"What Malfoy did to you may have broken that agreement," Minerva added with a frown. "If it has, then it could all kick off again. We will have to see."

That sounded rather ominous to Harry, though it was nothing new.

From his first day at Hogwarts, the rivalry and incidents between the students of Gryffindor and Slytherin house were prevalent. It appeared, if any had taken exception to what Malfoy had done, it would very much be the same.

"Think nothing of it," Poppy urged. "Black will deal with it, unless he wants problems again."

"Arcturus won't want any problems," Charlus interjected as he reached them. "I'll have a private word with him and that will be the end of it. Anyway, how long did it take for Tiberius to put his foot in it?"

"Before we even reached him," Poppy snorted.

Charlus chuckled.

"Ah, the boy will never change."

"No, he won't," Minerva said, her lips pursed.

"Oh, he's harmless, Minnie," Charlus comforted. "He just has no control over his tongue. He's always been like it."

"I wish he would exercise some control," Minerva huffed. "Honestly, five years is enough."

"Then you should be grateful that he is only complimentary of you. Think of poor Bones in Hufflepuff. She gets it worst of all."

"Only because Tiberius gets tongue-tied around her," Charlus laughed. "You'll see that for yourself, Evans. It's bloody hilarious."

Harry didn't doubt that it would be.

Already Ogden had proven himself quite the character, very much the same way Charlus was a presence unto himself.

"Anyway, the first years are in bed, so I'm going to get some sleep myself. See you in a bit, Evans. You know where we are?"

Harry nodded.

"Second dorm from the top."

Charlus nodded before ascending the staircase.

By now, the common room had quietened considerably with most of the students having taken to their beds.

"I think I will turn in too," Minerva announced. "Will you meet me here in the morning?" she asked Harry who nodded.

"Seven?"

Minerva smiled.

"That works, I'll see you then."

With that, she disappeared up the girl's staircase with Augusta and Poppy, and Harry saw no reason to stay awake himself. Deciding to call it a night, he headed to bed feeling rather drained.

Already, this Hogwarts was different in many ways, but very much the same in others.

It would be an interesting year to say the least.

(Break)

Arcturus Black looked on as Abraxus gloated to any that would listen to his bragging, mocking the Evans boy, though the Black heir could see no reason for such.

It was not as though Abraxus had conducted himself well. When confronted, he proved himself a coward as he always did.

"Stupid mudblood. I'll teach him," Abraxus declared, eliciting a number of nods of encouragement from the other Slytherins.

"You will do no such thing," Arcturus said simply.

He needed to nip this in the bud, or the unpleasantness the school had seen in previous years would rear its ugly head once more.

"We're going to let him get away with it?" Abraxus asked incredulously.

"No, they're going to let you get away with it, you fucking idiot."

Abraxus was taken aback by the harshness of the words spoken to him, but Arcturus didn't care.

"He got in my face!"

"Because you, like the fool you are, provoked him," Arcturus bit back.

"He's a mudblood! At least the other ones are purebloods, like us."

"He is a half-blood," Arcturus corrected. "You may not wish to believe it, but there is a difference. One of his parents is a pureblood. Tell me Abraxus, do you know what family he hails from?"

Malfoy frowned as he shook his head.

"Then you truly are the fool for provoking him."

"I'm a Malfoy!" Abraxus snapped.

"And yet, would you try to provoke me or any other member of my family the way you did Evans?"

"That's different," Malfoy denied.

Arcturus snorted.

"How so?"

"He's not one of your lot, is he?"

Arcturus shrugged.

"For all I know, he could be. He's got the dark hair, and it wouldn't be so much of a stretch to believe he was. Even some members of my family have been disowned for marrying filth."

"Then it doesn't matter if he is related to you."

"It doesn't," Arcturus agreed, "only if you're sure he could not seek retribution against you. I would tread very carefully, Abraxus. You provoked someone you know nothing of, potentially upsetting a very prominent family in the process. How do you think your father would react if he knew?"

"My father…"

"Is not untouchable," Arcturus cut him off. "Should any member of the Black Family wished to see to the end of yours, my father would see it was done, and there are other families also capable of it. Lord Malfoy would not wish to be at odds with the Potters, would he? What about the Bones, or Longbottoms, or even the Moodys?"

Abraxus scowled but said nothing.

"You acted foolishly, Abraxus, and if Charlus decides that our agreement will be brought to an end, I will throw you to his feet so you can personally beg him for forgiveness. Or I will allow what used to happen to resume. Remind me, how did that turn out for you all?"

Again, silence, though the Slytherins did not appear to be happy with chiding Arcturus was giving them.

"I will speak with Charlus to smooth this over, but if any of you provoke another episode like what I just witnessed, it will be me you deal with, understood?"

The other Slytherins nodded unhappily, and Arcturus shook his head.

They wouldn't listen.

Perhaps at first, they would heed his warning, but eventually, one of them would do something stupid and Arcturus would not be there to protect them.

If they wished to engage in a petty and meaningless rivalry, then they would reap what they sow.

He did not know this Evans boy, but he had been ready for Abraxus, his wand primed to strike if the foolish blonde had dared attempt attack him.

The Black heir had been curious to see what would have happened, but it was probably fortunate that Charlus intervened when he had.

He and the Potter may not like each other much, but there was an understanding, and even grudging respect between them.

Arcturus would sooner keep it that way, even if the other members of his house were keen to look for trouble.

As such, it was imperative to speak with Potter. Any impending nastiness needed to be headed off, and it could only be done so through the pair working together.

(Break)

"So, what is he like?"

Minerva deflated.

She had been waiting for the questions from her friends and it seemed they did not wish to wait.

"What do you mean?" she asked as she removed her robes and searched in her trunk for some pyjamas.

"Come on, Minnie," Augusta sighed. "He was here for however much of the summer, and we both know you were too. You must have gotten to know him."

"He's just, Harry," Minerva shrugged. "He's quiet, but he's really nice."

"Really nice?" Poppy returned with a raised eyebrow.

"What else do you want me to say?"

"Well, some details of a sordid summer romance would be nice," Augusta huffed, "but knowing you, you spent the whole time talking about transfiguration. You did, didn't you?" she accused when Minerva did not refute her speculation.

"Harry is interested in transfiguration," Minerva defended, "and he's very good at it."

"So, there was no whirlwind love affair?" Poppy asked hopefully. "Not even a kiss?"

"No!" Minerva said firmly, though her cheeks reddened slightly.

"She's lying!" Augusta declared. "Minerva McGonagall is blushing."

"There was no kiss!" Minerva said heatedly, "but something else did happen," she added.

"Well?" Poppy demanded.

Minerva sighed and shook her head.

"Well, you know how I like to sometimes practice…"

"You mean almost naked?" Augusta snorted. "Believe me, we know, Minnie."

Minerva scowled at her friend.

"Well, the first time I met Harry was when he caught me doing that in the common room."

There was silence for a few seconds before both other girls burst out laughing.

"He saw you…"

"No, not completely, but I wasn't exactly dressed decently. I've never been so embarrassed."

"Did he look?" Augusta asked bluntly.

"Augusta!" Poppy gasped, though her chastisement was half-hearted at best.

"I don't remember," Minerva replied, "I was in shock, and so was he. We've not really spoken about it other than in passing."

"He definitely looked," Augusta mused aloud, "he's a boy, of course he looked."

Minerva rolled her eyes as she got into bed.

"Well, what happened next?" Poppy pressed.

"Nothing," Minera replied honestly.

"Dumbledore and Dippet came in, and that was it."

"Just when it was getting interesting," August muttered.

Minerva released a deep sigh.

"He walked in on me whilst I was practicing, nothing more, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to him. It was embarrassing for both of us."

"I doubt it," Poppy denied.

Minerva chose to ignore them in favour of getting some sleep.

The first day of term was always a busy and tiring one and she wanted to be well-rested for it.

(Break)

It was the very early hours that Charlus was disturbed from his sleep. He had expected a message to reach him in the coming days, but not so soon after the unpleasantness that had unfolded after the welcoming feast.

Evidently, Black was keen to see that it did not escalate further, as was Charlus for that matter.

Last year had been a peaceful one, and he would see it repeated without incident.

With a shake of his head, he released a deep breath and pushed off his duvet with his feet.

"There's no time like the present," he mumbled, wrapping his dressing gown around himself and tiptoeing out of the dormitory where his roommates were sleeping.

At this hour, the common room was empty, and the fire that had greeted them upon their arrival was little more than a few dying embers.

Charlus enjoyed the serenity of the common room when it was like this. When he would finish a prefect patrol, he would often remain in here to complete his homework by candlelight.

Tonight, however, was not set aside for such a thing.

"Going somewhere, Mr Potter," the portrait of the Fat Lady asked as he exited.

Charlus nodded.

"I will return shortly."

"Very well," the lady replied having become accustomed to his comings and goings over the past two years or so.

Off the top of his head, he couldn't remember who would be on duty tonight, but it didn't matter. None of the other prefects would impede either him or Black, and it was not like they bothered checking the trophy room anyway.

It made for a good place to meet. It was situated almost exactly between the Slytherin and Gryffindor common rooms, and there was always a torch or two in there that were kept lit, so the room was warm.

Much warmer than the rest of the castle at this time.

Pushing open the door when he reached it, he found that Black was already waiting for him, the other boy staring intently at the Quidditch cup.

"I appreciate you joining me at such short notice, Potter," he greeted him.

"You wouldn't have sent the message if it wasn't important," Charlus replied.

Arcturus nodded.

"I believe that our pact could well be short-lived this year," he said simply. "Abraxus is growing bold and is gathering support. He also grows somehow more stupid."

"He is a Malfoy," Charlus reminded the Black heir.

Arcturus's lip tugged in amusement.

"I will continue to do my best to keep the peace, but I do not know what good it will do," he sighed.

"I will do the same, but if they act against any in my house, there will be severe repercussions. Abraxus started what happened between him and Evans earlier."

"He did," Arcturus agreed, "and will eventually do so again."

"Then he will have problems."

"From you?"

Charlus nodded.

"And Evans, I suspect."

"What do you know of him, Potter?"

"Not a thing," Charlus replied with a shrug. "He's a half-blood, that's it."

"And nothing about his family?"

Charlus shook his head.

"I've not spoken to him much," he admitted.

Arcturus eyed him for a moment.

"I couldn't help but notice his resemblance to you, and to some members of my family. Is it possible you're related?"

Charlus frowned.

"You know as well as I do that all our families are connected somewhere down the line."

"But for him to look as much a Black and Potter as he does, do you not find that a little coincidental?"

Charlus chuckled.

"Listen, Black, he may well look like us both in some ways, but that's it. We would both be aware if any member of our families had a child born close enough to us that they would be the same age. Doesn't your father still keep abreast of the wayward family members, just in case they attempt a coup? Is this something he would miss?"

"No, he wouldn't," Arcturus muttered.

"And he certainly isn't such a close relative of mine. My family is much smaller than your own, and any child born to a Potter is accounted for. He's not one of us, and not one of your lot."

"But what if he is?" Arcturus questioned.

"He isn't, but if it makes you feel better, I will try to learn more about him and see who his parents were."

"Were?" Black asked with a frown.

"He's an orphan, Arcturus, he told me that himself."

"Oh."

"Regardless of who his family is or may have been, he is no threat to either of us, even if there is a connection. He was raised by muggles."

Arcturus nodded.

"I see your point, but would rest easier knowing for certain, and as I said, I will do what I can to curb Abraxus, for all the good it will do."

"I appreciate it," Charlus replied, offering his hand.

Arcturus accepted it, the respect between them transcending the rivalry between their houses.

As the Black heir left, Charlus released a deep breath. If Arcturus was admitting that his grasp over his peers was loosening, then it was only a matter of time before one of the Slytherins would do something stupid, and when they did, even Charlus would not be able to stop his own housemates from seeking revenge.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled to himself.