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Chapter Text

Summer 1992

Callidus was unsure of what to make of his new foster family.  The only wizarding family that he had known were the Malfoys, and considering that they were at the very apex of the social ladder, they could hardly be considered an appropriate measuring stick to compare other wizarding families against.  Not everyone lived in lavish manors on extensive estates, served by a multitude of eager house elves, ready to cater to one's every whim.  If that were the case, the wizarding world would be populated by far to many Draco-types, and one spoiled, self-absorbed Malfoy heir was enough for the world.

Callidus's new family, the Filodoxos, lived in the half-wizarding village of Wimbourne, in a modest Tudor style townhouse.  Their home contained only two mild-mannered magical portraits, but it did have a nice (though small) colour changing stained-glass window, and talking mirrors that were much less critical than the ones at Malfoy manor.   Their coat rack was a bit on the grabby-side, and for some reason, there were numerous decorative ceramic shepherdesses that would not stop batting their eyelashes and cooing at Callidus. The chinaware wasn’t as ornate as the Malfoys, and there was one particular tea cup with a penchant for dancing little jigs, but it was an otherwise orderly household.

Of the family, there was Segnis Filodoxos, a man in his mid-thirties with a mop of tight curly blond hair that seemed fitting for his perennially sunny temperament; Quinta Filodoxos, a broad woman of the same age, with lanky brown hair that could rival his own, who was the undisputed matriarch, ruling the household like a fickle tyrant, benevolent one moment and ruthless the next, but who seemed to favour Callidus; and Caiside Filodoxos, their daughter who was a year younger than Callidus.  Caiside, for reasons that Callidus hadn't entirely figured out yet (though he had his suspicions) appeared to dislike him, or at least mistrusted him.  She had never really spoken to him in the time that he was there, but occasionally glared at him through the curtains of her curly, red-brown hair.  Admittedly, he had only been at the Filodoxos residence for a week, but he wasn’t too optimistic about his relationship with Caiside.

Caiside appeared to have a strained relationship with her parents.  Callidus didn't know if the situation had always been so uncomfortable, or if his presence had anything to do with it, but as far as he could tell, he hasn't done anything to cause offence.  Quinta Filodoxos usually spoke to Caiside by barking orders or making some sort of critical remark about all manner of little things, and in contrast, she was exceedingly accommodating to Callidus.  That in and of itself was rather uncomfortable.  As for Segnis Filodoxos, he was absorbed in his own inner universe of music, and often acted oblivious to the world around him.  

Quinta Filodoxos worked at a potions lab for a private company, and Callidus noticed her secretive behaviours regarding her work.  She rarely ever spoke of her current projects, but seemed to enjoy discussing potions theory.  Having learned of Callidus’s skills in potions on the day they met, Quinta Filodoxos (or Madam Filodoxos, as she preferred to be called) immediately felt a sort of kinship towards Callidus, herding him into the position of an ‘adopted son,’ whether Callidus wanted it or not.  Segnis (“Mr. Filodoxos is my father - call me Seggi”) was a musician, who played the harpsichord.  Some of his songs were even played on the Wizarding Wireless Network, though admittedly, his music was more likely to appeal to older crowds - the sort that might wear robes with too many frills and ruffles, and were perfectly comfortable accessorizing with monocles.  He was distantly friendly towards Callidus, not at all in the over-accommodating way that Madam Filodoxos was.

At the moment, the family was sitting at the breakfast table, being served by the sole house elf owned by the family.  The elf managed enough of the household that the family did not usually have to worry about any of the major household duties, but it wasn't enough to provide a life of indolence.  Unlike Draco, Callidus had to put on his own robes and clean his own teeth and brush his own hair.  In theory, if Draco decided he never wanted to lift another finger again he could probably ask one of his family's house elves to hand feed him, manually move his jaw for him, and then massage his throat to swallow.  Not that Draco would do such a thing (or so Callidus hoped.)

Madam Filodoxos was currently reading the Daily Prophet , her expression pleased by whatever article she was reading.  Segnis was softly humming an upbeat melody, tapping one hand on the table while he scribbled down song lyrics with the other.  He was munching on a piece of toast, which he absently levitated up to his mouth with each bite.  As for Caiside, she was petulantly stabbing at a slice of fried tomato, as though the piece of produce had somehow personally offended her sensibilities and deserved a messy death by skewering.  This activity was punctuated by resentful glares at Callidus, and he did not doubt that she imagined skewering him as well.  Or at least feeding him to her garden of aggressive or poisonous magical plants, which was apparently some sort of hobby of hers.

“The Magical Child Protection Act is gaining supporters,” Madam Filodoxos commented, rustling the pages of the newspaper.  “It’s about time.  The notion of any magical child having to suffer the fate of living with muggles is horrifying.  Frankly, they ought to take them away at birth and nip that problem in the bud.”

This comment did not seem to be directed at anyone in particular, but Callidus had the feeling that Madam Filodoxos was speaking to him.  Segnis was still tapping some melody on the table, his head bobbing to some internal beat and Caiside just made a noncommittal humming sound.

 “My friend’s father had a role in writing that bill,” Callidus informed her.  It wasn't that he particularly wished to be drawn into conversation, but it felt rude to leave the comment unanswered.  Besides, he had an interest in the bill.  

 “Did he now?” Madam Filodoxos replied, with an intrigued look.  “You must have made some excellent connections in your year at Hogwarts.”

Caiside rolled her eyes, but did not contribute to the conversation.  Callidus wasn't sure what to think.  Was the eye roll directed at him or at her mother?  She did tend to roll her eyes at her mother and father a lot.  It struck Callidus as being a bit puerile, but to be fair, he couldn't imagine being a bundle of sunshine if someone was always either critiquing him or ignoring him.  But since Caiside hadn't done that much to endear herself to him, Callidus only felt the smallest bit of sympathy.  Perhaps enough sympathy to fill a bottle cap.  Or less.

 “Yes, it's a prestigious school.”  Callidus didn't exactly want to drop names.  Draco may have been his brother/friend, but that didn't mean that Callidus felt the inclination to talk about the Malfoys if he didn't have to.  Draco already did enough of that.

 “Indeed.  Hopefully our Caiside will be improved in her time there,” Madam Filodoxos gave Caiside a rather put-upon look, as though having to be her mother was some immense burden.  Somehow, Callidus managed not to squirm from the weight of the awkwardness of the situation.  He was almost tempted to say something in Cassie's defence.  But seeing as he knew nothing about her, there was really nothing to add.

 “Considering you and father went there, I have my doubts,” Caiside muttered under her breath.  Callidus, who heard her since he was seated next to her, raised his eyebrow.

 “Don't mumble, Caiside,” Madam Filodoxos chided.  “It's unladylike.  How are going to fit in with the right sort if you can't even articulate your words?”

 “Of course, mother,” Caiside answered sarcastically.  “Mustn't fall in with the wrong crowd must I?  Only the inbred sort will do.”

Callidus couldn't help a snort of amusement, but ended up covering it up with a cough.  

Madam Filodoxos glared at her daughter, her colour rising.  “Show some respect Caiside!   You're speaking of the most important, most influential witches and wizards in the country.”

Segnis suddenly stopped humming and tapping his tune, and Callidus wondered if the man would finally decide to mediate the rising conflict between mother and daughter.  “What rhymes with ‘happy?’  Nappy?  Sappy?  Yappy?”

Caiside scoffed.  “How about ‘horribly crappy?’” Callidus snorted again, and Caiside gave him a mildly surprised look before scowling again.

Segnis furrowed his brow.  “Hrm.  Nice and bouncy, little songbird, but - hrm - no, no, I really think it won't do.  Conflicts with the message of the whole song, you know.” With that, he started to mumble a series of rhymes, tuning out his family once again.

 “It's too bad the Magical Child Protection Act wasn't put in place years ago,” Callidus remarked, trying to veer the topic back on track.  “It was - unpleasant, to say the least, growing up with muggles.”

Caiside’s jaw dropped, and her near-black eyes widened in surprise.  “You - what - I thought -” Caiside blinked rapidly.   “ You were raised by a muggles?”

Callidus's expression darkened as he recalled the past.  “Yes, well, my father was a muggle.”

Caiside gasped.  “What?  A muggle?  Not even a - a muggleborn?”

Callidus shrugged in response.  Did Caiside think less of him for not having pure, untainted blood?  Was all her talk just for show?

 “What’s this talk about muggles?” Segnis muttered, looking bemused.  “Brutish creatures.  How did we get onto this topic.  Did you know that they have a device that can make holes in a person?  I believe it is called a muskey?  Musker?  Musket?  No, no, Musker sounds right.”

Caiside rolled her eyes at her father.  “Thank you for that helpful contribution, dad” she said sarcastically before turning back to Callidus.  “You - you're a Prince!  One of those families.  How can you be -” Caiside turned to look at her mother, her expression accusing.  “Did you know this mum?”

Madam Filodoxos sniffed, irritated by the turn of the conversation.  “This is hardly appropriate conversation for the breakfast table.  Callidus is an upstanding young man, and a direct descendant of the Princes.”

Caiside still appeared shocked.  “I never would have thought I'd hear you defend a half-blood mum.  Really.  I ought to be marking this day down for posterity.  'Mum is less of a bigot so long as an old pure-blood name is involved.’ Merlin, what a miracle.” Her voice dripped irony.  

Madam Filodoxos looked like she was ready to sputter an offended reply, but Caiside turned back to Callidus, cutting her mother off.  “What was it like, growing up with muggles?  All I ever hear about is how they plan to burn us all at the stake, or, dissect us in labs or - or fly their airplanes at us.”

 “What?” Callidus raised his eyebrow incredulously.  “I don’t think there has been a witch burning in centuries, and I’m fairly certain that airplanes are meant to transport passengers.  I’m not sure about the labs though.  But frankly, growing up with muggles was unpleasant.  They can be very small minded, and even without magic, they’re capable of a great deal of cruelty.”

Caiside looked surprisingly disappointed by this answer.  “Oh.  I thought - well - nevermind what I thought.”

 “That said, I don’t lump muggleborns in with muggles,” Callidus continued.  “Some of the brightest witches I’ve ever met are muggleborns.”

Caiside brightened.  She shot a smug look at her mother.  “ Really .  That’s interesting.  You know, you’re not what I expected, Callidus.  You’re not so bad.”

 “Thank you for the glowing praise,” Callidus drawled.

 “I don’t think all muggleborns are bad,” Madam Filodoxos interjected.  “But there is no denying that they are ruining our culture with their ways, and every muggleborn represents a threat of our discovery.  That’s why I am in such strong support of the Magical Child Protection Act.”

 “Oh?  Muggleborns aren’t so bad, mum?  So -” Caiside’s expression became sly, “- if I met a nice muggleborn boy at Hogwarts and wanted to get married -”

Madam Filodoxos gasped.  “I’ve had enough of this, Caiside Filodoxos!  I know you’re deliberately trying to provoke me, and front of dear Callidus, no less.  Your implications are creating a terrible impression of the honourable Filodoxos name.  I’ve tried and tried to instill a ladylike modesty and gentle manner in you, but yet, you continue to disobey me.  Don’t you know that I am just doing this for your sake?  Go to your room, Now!”

Caiside shrugged indifferently.  “Whatever, mum.  Talk to you later, Callidus.”

 “Oh.  Yes.  Later - er - Caiside,” Callidus replied awkwardly.  That had to be the first time that Caiside had given him any sort of friendly acknowledgement.  Caiside stood up, leaving her plate for the house-elf to clear away, and climbed up the stairs to her room.

 “Well!” Madam Filodoxos huffed.  “I apologize for her behaviour, Callidus.  Caiside has always been a spirited girl.  I believe she’s going through a phase.  You’ll have to excuse her immaturity.”

 “Indeed,” Callidus responded neutrally.  That was a safe thing to say, right?  How did he even end up in the middle of this family drama?  And did the Filodoxos have a problem with him being a half-blood, or not?

 “Besides,” Madam Filodoxos continued, “I know that it is hardly your fault that your blood status is - well - what it is.  I can tell that you are a young man with good values, and you are sure to make a great contribution to the wizarding world.  Especially with your talent in potions.”

Callidus breathed a small sigh of relief in the change of topic.  Potions.  That was safe and familiar.  He could handle a conversation about that.  Welcomed it, even.  By the time he had finished his breakfast, his mood was relatively relaxed.  Madam Filodoxos might be a bit uptight, and sometimes overbearing, but she was knowledgeable about potions, and out of all the Filodoxos, she was making the most effort to accept him.  This might not be the ideal situation, but in all honesty, it wasn’t too bad.  As long as he didn’t think too hard about the matter of blood status.  And besides, he’d be back at Hogwarts soon.

Madam Filodoxos soon departed for work, and Segnis had holed himself away in his music room to work on his new composition.  As Callidus climbed the stairs towards the guest room, he wondered what he would do with himself.  He had just finished the last of his summer homework yesterday.  Harry, Draco and Hermione had already written once, but none of them were doing anything particularly noteworthy.  Draco mostly bragged about the excessively expensive birthday presents he had belated received (his birthday had been in early June, near the exam period.)  Harry sounded thrilled to simply be permitted to be his own room, with no threat of chores, and all the time in the world to do his summer homework.  It was the first time Callidus had ever heard Harry sound happy about homework.  And as for Hermione, her letter had been about the homework itself, which, while intellectually interesting, didn’t quite qualify as exciting.  As Callidus turned the corner towards the corridor that led to his bedroom, he was greeted by the sight of Caiside, who was leaning against one of the walls with her arms crossed.

Caiside arched an eyebrow, one corner of her lip curled upwards in a crookedly mocking smile.  “Finally finished cozying up to my mother?”

 “If you’re attempting a gibe, I’d try one with a little less underlying insecurity,” Callidus drawled.

 “I’m not insecure!” Caiside retorted.  “It’s not like I’d want more of my mum’s attention.”  She scrunched up her face at the thought.  “And there’s no way I’ll ever be her perfect little pureblood doll.”

Callidus shrugged.  “I can’t say that particularly pleased to be target of her fulsome mothering.  But I have a genuine interest in potions, and your mother has been telling me about some of her past projects.”

Caiside bit the inside of her cheek as she considered his words.  “Fair enough, I suppose.  Hey, do you feel like going out today?  You haven’t seen much of Wimbourne yet, have you?”

The invitation surprised Callidus.  Since when could Caiside be so - well - friendly?  A part of him wondered whether he should suspect some sort of trick.  “What’s there to see in Wimbourne?”

 “Honestly?  Not much.  The wizarding section of town is pretty small compared to, say Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.  And the muggle section isn’t much better either, but no one ever goes there - I don’t even own muggle clothes so I might look a bit funny to them.  But there’s a pastry shop that has the most amazing bread pudding.”

 “I can’t say that I’m particularly tempted by sweets.”

 “You could always come and - erm - watch me eat?” Caiside raised her eyebrows hopefully.

Callidus smirked.  “What a convincing argument.  I’ve always wanted to witness this mysterious act whereby nutritionally empty carbohydrates are being masticated.”

Caiside giggled, causing her curls to bounce.  “Come on, Callidus.  I’m sure we’ll find something that you like.”

With a shrug, Callidus decided to follow.  It wasn’t as though he had anything else to do anyway, and if Caiside had finally decided that she wanted to be nice, he wasn’t going to complain (though he might mock her for the infantile behaviour she had displayed the previous week.  It was only fair.)

It was a hot summer day, so Callidus and Caiside did not bother with coats, and once they had their shoes on, they were out the door.  Caiside was much more relaxed than Callidus had ever seen her, but Callidus kept his hands tucked in his pockets, his eyes squinting at the brightness of the sun.

 “When was the last time you ever saw the sun?” Caiside queried.  “Your complexion would make a ghost proud.”

 “You know, for someone who ignored me all last week, you’re awfully friendly now.”

Caiside looked somewhat sheepish.  She gave an embarrassed shrug.  “Well, we’re distant family.  So.  That makes us - what - erm - cousins?”

 “I commend your ability to make inane observations.  What a graceful way to cover up your discomfiture.  And since many purebloods are, as you say, inbred, being cousins means very little, doesn’t it?”

Caiside snorted.  “It’s more of a problem in the older families.  Though I’m sure that it’s something my parents aspire towards.”

 “What, being inbred?”

Caiside laughed bitterly.  “Well, let’s just say that I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to marry me off.  To - well.  You.”

Callidus blanched.  “What?  They - You?  No!  And besides, I’m not a pureblood!”

 “Yes, well, now you know how I feel.  No offence.  And I didn’t realize you were a half-blood until today.  I’m surprised my parents have been so welcoming so far.  But as I said, Prince is an old name.  I suppose the prestige matters more than blood purity.  Our family doesn’t have a seat on the Wizengamot, but I know the Prince’s do.  It hasn’t been used in ages of course.  Honestly, it’s kind of a surprise when you just showed up.  I think people thought the Prince line had died out, and yet, here you are.”

Callidus hummed thoughtfully.  Of all things, he wasn’t expecting this kind of revelation.  It made him wonder just how much the Filodoxos’ actually knew about him.  Callidus had been reticent when it came to his past.  But had Dumbledore revealed anything to the Filodoxos?  Such as his de-aging?

 “I’ve just made things awkward, haven’t I?”  Caiside smiled crookedly.

Callidus shrugged.  “I’d say this is about as awkward as being subjected to silent and resentful glares for a week.”

Caiside flushed.  “I wasn’t giving you resentful glares.”

 “Ha.  So you admit to glaring?”

 “Well - fine.  Yes.  I misjudged you.  I humbly beg your apology.  Satisfied?”

Callidus gave her a wicked smile.  “For now.”

 “What, do you plan to reduce me to some trembling, tearful pile of guilt and supplication?”

Callidus chuckled.  “Well, if Wimbourne is as uninteresting as you’ve implied, it might be my only source of entertainment for the rest of the month.”  To that, Caiside only rolled her eyes.

It was a twenty minute walk to reach the main street of Wimbourne, which consisted of mostly Tudor-style buildings.  There were several young families, and a few elderly couples out and about.  As Caiside mentioned, there was a pastry shop, but there was also a tailor, a pub, a post office, a general goods store, and an apothecary.  A few blocks over from the main street was the muggle portion of town.

 “I need to stop by the post office to place an order for Cobra Lily seeds,” Caiside informed him.

 “Isn’t your garden fatal enough?  Half the time, I’m afraid to even look out the window into your backyard.  I’m surprised that the neighbourhood animals are able to survive that death trap.”

Caiside shot him a mock-offended look.  “My garden is spectacular.  It may very well be the only garden in Britain that’s a hundred percent gnome-free.  And I’ll have you know that my mother once told me that tending to a garden is a perfectly ladylike past time.”

 “When was this?  Years ago?  I have a feeling she regrets those words.”

Caiside looked smug.  “Oh, she does,” she purred with intense satisfaction.  Callidus snorted with amusement.  After Caiside placed her order at the post office, they headed to the pastry shop, where Caiside purchased some bread pudding, and Callidus decided on a small fruit tart.  As they ate their treats at one of the small, outdoor tables, Caiside made snide comments about the passerby-ers.  Callidus decided he didn’t mind Caiside’s company.  She was kind of amusing.

Not wanting to return back to they house, they decided to near the border of the wizard-muggle portion of town.  Caiside was gleefully describing some of the more horrific toxins from the plants that she was cultivating in her garden, when a pair of muggle girls swerved around a corner, nearly bowling them over.  The girls were wide-eyed with confusion and fear, throwing scared looks over their shoulders.  They barely even bothered to apologize to Callidus and Caiside.

 “What was that?” Callidus looked towards the running girls, bemused.

Caiside’s expression darkened.  “Merlin,” she muttered.  “I hope it’s not what I think it is.”

 “What!” Callidus demanded, but Caiside was already stalking off.  She turned a corner and they came face to face with a group of three older boys.  Callidus recognized two of their faces as older student at Hogwarts, but he didn’t know their names.

 “Milgrim!” Caiside spat out.  “I should have known it was you.  You know you’re not supposed to bait muggles.  It’s illegal!”

 “Hello to you too, Filodoxos,” replied the stockiest boy that she called Milgrim.  “What are you planning to do?  Report me to the aurors?  You can’t prove anything!  Besides, you read the papers don’t you?  Muggles are horrible.  They abuse us every chance they get, so why shouldn’t we get them back from time to time?”

 “What did you do to them?” Caiside hissed.

The stocky boy just smiled nastily.  “It was just a few stinging hexes.  They didn’t even see us.  What’s the big deal?  No one trusts muggles these days.” The other two boys made noises of assent.

 “It’s wrong!” Caiside exclaimed.  “They didn’t do anything to you.”

The boy raised his eyebrows.  “Careful, Filodoxos.  People might start thinking you're a blood traitor if you go around saying things like that.”

Caiside scowled. “Why should I care what a bunch of idiots think?”

The boy pulled out his wand, aiming it at Caiside.  “You've always been such a brat.  I bet that your mom would thank me if I taught you a little lesson.  Did you know that every time she visits my mum for tea, she complains about how hopeless you are?”

A dark look crossed Caiside's face, but she stood firm.  Callidus had no idea what he had just gotten himself caught up in, but he found himself reaching into his pocket and gripping his wand.  He really, really didn’t want to have to use it.  The last thing he needed was a letter from the Ministry of Magic about the use of Underaged Magic.  Something like this could potentially get him expelled.

 “Are you sure you want to do this, Milgrim?” Caiside taunted.  “Remember what happened last time?”

The stocky boy’s expression wavered.  His cheeks had become flushed, and his eyes promised revenge, but his wand hand had faltered.  “Hexing whiny little girls is stupid anyway,” he muttered, pocketing his wand.  “Let’s go.”  He and his friends turned to leave.

When they were gone, Caiside exhaled heavily.  “Merlin, I can’t stand him.”

 “What was that all about?”

Caiside gave Callidus a rueful smile.  “He’s some boy I’ve known since I was a kid.  As he said, our mums like to visit, so we used to have play dates.  We never got along though.  Anyway, this isn’t the first time I’ve caught him bullying others, but lately, he’s been doing more and more muggle baiting.  It - well, ever since that news story with Harry Potter, there’s been a lot more anti-muggle sentiments.  Most people are mature enough not to do things like Milgrim, but people have been talking, and stuff.”  Caiside shrugged and began to turn back toward the direction of her house, and Callidus walked alongside her.

 “What were you referring to when you mentioned a ‘last time?’  What happened?”

The question brought a self-satisfied smile onto Caiside’s face.  From her pocket, she pulled out a couple of oblong-shaped pods.

Callidus leaned towards her, examining the speckled green pods.  “What are those?”

 “They’re seed pods from one of my plants.  With a hard enough impact, the pod bursts open, and the seeds disperse.  What’s interesting with these seeds is that they will latch and wriggle themselves into a growing surface.  Whether that’s on the soil, on pavement or -” she grinned maliciously, “- on skin, the seed will still latch and insert.  It’s not lethal - but it’s wicked painful.  Makes a bloody mess.  I mean that literally.”

Callidus cringed at the thought.  “It’s like a - plant shrapnel bomb - or something.”

 “I don’t really know what a shrapnel bomb is,” Caiside admitted.  “A muggle thing?”

Callidus nodded.  “Can I see one of those?”

 “Sure.”  Caiside placed a pod in his palm.  “Just don’t squeeze it or anything.”

As they walked back to the Filodoxos house, Caiside spoke more about the rising anti-muggle attitudes.  It wasn’t the sort of thing that was written about in papers like the Daily Prophet , so Callidus had been oblivious to the matter.

 “Is this just Wimbourne, or are other towns feeling the same way?  I imagine the negative perceptions must be fairly widespread, considering the Daily Prophet’s readership.

Caiside shrugged.  “Maybe.  I don’t know.  I don’t hate muggles.”

 “Why?” Callidus wondered.  Caiside gave him an incredulous look.  “I mean, considering how your parents act, I’m just - I admit, surprised that you’re so open-minded towards muggles and blood status.”

Caiside snorted.  “My parents attitudes are exactly why I’m open-minded towards muggles and muggleborns.  The last thing I want to do is be like my parents.  Ugh.”

Callidus raised his eyebrow.  “So this is all just an act of rebellion?  It has nothing to do with principles?”

 “I - erm -” Caiside looked a bit abashed.  “At first, it was all about being rebellious.  But - I - I don’t know.  I mean, no one here associates with the muggles.  And I don’t know any muggleborns.  But the thing is, I’ve met a lot of pure-bloods and half-bloods who aren’t the greatest people.  Milgrim, for one.  I guess I just figured that muggles and muggleborns can’t be worse, you know?”

 “Logical assumption.”

 “Does it bother you?” Caiside queried.

Callidus shrugged.  “I’ve had bad experiences with muggles.  But as I said, some of the smartest people I’ve met are muggleborns.”

 “Hm.  Just so we’re - erm - clear - I wanted to say that your blood status doesn’t bother me.”

 “I gathered,” Callidus drawled.

Caiside gave him a weak smile.  “It’s just - well - I had fun today.  Aside from stupid Milgrim.  We should - I don’t know - do this again?”

Callidus raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, and Caiside began to squirm uncomfortably.  It was a little spiteful, but considering she had ignored him for a week, he thought she deserved a little punishment.  Finally, his lips quirked upwards in a smile.  “Sure.  There’s nothing better to do, anyway.”

Caiside huffed with relief, but broke into a wide grin.  “Well now that we’re - erm - hanging out - I gotta give you a tour of my garden.  Don’t worry, I won’t let you get hurt.  Much.”

 “Lucky me.”

Chapter Text

Against all expectations, Callidus ended up spending most of the rest of his month with Caiside.  He wouldn’t go so far as to say that they were friends.  No, they were just two bored people who had gravitated together due to the bonding forces of mutual boredom, and an ability to tolerate each other’s presence.  Or something like that.  They didn’t always go out to explore town.  Sometimes, they just hung out in each other’s rooms, engaging in their contest of snideness-one-upmanship.  It was like a battle of wits.  Except instead of wits, it involved a lot of drawled words, and mockery.  

They also spent a great deal of time in Caiside’s garden.  Once Caiside had allowed Callidus to harvest parts of her plants (in a display of farcical and exaggerated generosity: “why yes, good sir, you may partake of the plucking of these gently quivering leaves”) Callidus found that he had developed a great appreciation of the garden, even if he was still convinced that it was out to kill him.  But he was willing to take a bit of a risk for quality potions ingredients.

Madam Filodoxos seemed inordinately pleased by this development.  She treated Callidus in the same, overbearing manner as ever, but her criticism towards her daughter had decreased.  For the most part, Caiside just tried to pretend that it wasn’t happening.  Neither Callidus nor Caiside wanted to imagine the matchmaking that might be going on in Madam Filodoxos’ mind.  That would have been a bit too unsettling.  It didn’t help that Segnis was going around the house, singing some sort of love ballad that he happened to be composing, while a piece of parchment and quill followed him around, scribbling out musical notation.

One day in late July, Madam Filodoxos knocked on Callidus’s open door, wearing a hesitant expression on her face.  The expression immediately put Callidus on guard.  Madam Filodoxos was the sort of woman who personified the phrase ‘no-nonsense.’  She was about as subtle as a using a hatchet as a paper cutter.  Callidus didn’t even realize that hesitance was a part of Madam Filodoxo’s emotional repertoire.  Thus, the look on her face understandably had him on edge.  Even Caiside, who had been lounging in his desk chair, gave him a concerned look.

 “Callidus, dear,” Madam Filodoxos began, sounding unusually uncertain.  “May I have a word with you?”  Callidus and Caiside shared a worried look that silently said ‘Please, Merlin, don’t let this conversation have anything to do with betrothals.’

 “All right,” Callidus agreed reluctantly, trying not to look as though he were dragging his feet.  After all, the Filodoxos’ had been very generous by allowing him into their home.  He followed Madam Filodoxos down the corridor and into the study, sitting down in a chair across from her.  It took a great deal of effort to keep his expression blank.  The portrait hanging on the study wall smiled down on him indulgently, and murmured something about how he was of ‘good stock.’  He tried to do his best to ignore the decorative ceramic shepherdess on the desk that kept blowing kisses in his direction.  And why was the shepherdess trying to adjust the collar of her blouse lower?  He couldn’t understand how anyone would want such unnerving little figurines in their house.

 “Callidus,” Madam Filodoxos began.  “How much do you know about your family history?  About the Princes?”

Callidus blinked.  This line of conversation was not making him feel optimistic.  He desperately hoped that Madam Filodoxos wouldn’t start talking about anything as horrifying as continuing family bloodlines.  “I know a bit,” Callidus admitted.  “I know that most of the Prince family have been Slytherins.  I know that the family can be traced back to the 1500s.  I know that the Prince’s have traditionally been a Dark aligned family.”

 “You know about all that?” Madam Filodoxos suddenly looked relieved, but managed to maintain her stern composure.  “What are your thoughts on the Dark Arts?”

 “I -” Callidus wondered how he should answer.  Dark or Light magic could be such a sensitive topic.  “I am open to learning all forms of magic.  To me, it’s knowledge, and the power that it affords that’s important.”

Madam Filodoxos’ expression was appraising.  “Yes, it’s wise if you to be open to all forms of knowledge.  You have a lot of sense for one so young.  You’re a good influence on my daughter.”  Callidus forced himself to stay still and not squirm awkwardly in the face of the praise.  The portrait on the wall declared: ‘here, here!’

 “I know that Hogwart’s current headmaster has a strong bias against the Dark Arts.  Witches and Wizards have not been able to freely practice the Dark Arts for centuries in Britain.  So I understand that access to such knowledge can be exceedingly difficult.”

 “Yes,” Callidus agreed, wondering where Madam Filodoxos was going.

 “There’s something I want to give to you, but you must keep it secret.  You may show Caiside, of course.  But you mustn’t show it to any others.”  Madam Filodoxos picked up a book that had been sitting at the desk and handed it to him.  Callidus peered down at the title.  It was a spell book - one on Old Magics, and most of them Dark.  Curiously, none of the spells were offencive spells.

 “This is for me?”

Madam Filodoxos nodded.  “Yes.  The book is a copy.  I believe it would benefit you to learn some of these spells.”

Something about this situation seemed strange to Callidus, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.  “Thank you.  I appreciate it very much,” he answered politely.

Madam Filodoxos smiled warmly.  “You’re such an upstanding young man.  You do the Prince name proud.”

 “Thank you,” Callidus repeated, pasting a rather wooden smile on his face.

 “There’s something else I wanted to show you.  It is, however, a secret, and before I do, I must have you swear an unbreakable vow not to reveal it.  You know what an unbreakable vow is, do you not?”

Callidus felt a chill ripple down his spine.  “Yes, breaking an unbreakable vow results in death.”

 “You do not have to agree to this, of course.  If you’re not comfortable with learning the secret, I will not make you swear the vow, and we can forget this part of the conversation.  I understand that it can be a heavy burden to bear.  But you are very mature for your age.”

Callidus felt conflicted.  He was filled with a burning curiosity to know this secret.  However, he was unsure if he wanted to have to swear an unbreakable vow.  A look of amusement flickered in Madam Filodoxos’ eyes before it quickly vanished, but that was what decided the issue for Callidus.  It couldn’t be that bad, if Madam Filodoxos was amused about it, right?

 “All right.  I’ll make the vow.”  Callidus could hear the portrait exclaim: ‘Good lad!’

Madam Filodoxos smiled, lines crinkling across her broad face, and she pulled out her wand, gesturing for Callidus to do the same.  As she said the words of the vow, Callidus was curious to note that not only did he have to keep the secret from outsiders of the Filodoxos family, but he also had to keep the location of the secret a secret.  Was the secret some sort of place?  As the final streams of fiery light wove around their hands, Madam Filodoxos gave him an approving smile and stood up.

 “Come with me.”  She led him down the stairs, and into one of the corridors.  At a blank stretch of wall, she paused.  Using her wand, she tapped the wood panelling and said a word that Callidus did not recognize.  Nothing appeared to happen.

 “This way,” Madam Filodoxos intoned.  She walked forward, passing through the solid looking wall, and Callidus blinked in surprise.  He supposed it shouldn’t be that shocking.  It was very similar to the barrier at King’s Cross Station.  Trusting Madam Filodoxos, he stepped towards the wall, and almost fell down the other side.  It was only because he had luckily managed to cling onto the bannister that he didn’t tumble headlong down the stairs.

 “Oh!  I apologize, Callidus!” Madam Filodoxos exclaimed, looking worried.  “I should have mentioned that there would be stairs here.  Are you quite all right?”

Callidus nodded.  “I - yes, I’m fine.  What is this place?”

The question brought a satisfied smile to Madam Filodoxos face.  “Come down and see.”

As the pair of them walked down the steps, Callidus gasped to see an immense potions lab.  One wall was nothing but shelving, displaying rows and rows of potions ingredients - more than he had ever seen in any private lab - even his adult-self’s lab in Hogwarts.

 “This is incredible!” Callidus could barely keep his jaw shut.  “I’ve never seen such an impressive lab.”

Madam Filodoxos looked pleased.  “It’s all thanks to my employer.  I still can’t reveal who that is, of course.  But they supply all the tools and ingredients.  I do not use this lab too often, since the labs at the head office are even better.  As a budding potions disciple, I thought you would appreciate it.  Since you’ve been here, I’ve been starting to think of you as the son I never had.  Feel free to make use of the lab and the ingredients while you are living here - though I must request that you ask permission if you need ingredients from any of the gold-labelled jars.  Those ingredients are the rarest of all and my employer won’t replace those without a great deal of questions.”

Callidus felt both embarrassed, awkward, but also pleased.  He didn’t exactly feel the need for a new mother figure - his own mother Eileen might not have been perfect, but she had still cared about him.  Nonetheless, having access to a lab like this was like receiving his birthdays presents, Christmas presents, and a top-student award from Hogwarts all at once.

 “Thank you.”  Callidus didn’t think the words sounded adequate, but he did not know what else to say.  “This is truly amazing.”

 “You’re family,” Madam Filodoxos replied.  “I want you to feel welcome and happy here.”  This only served to increase Callidus’s embarrassment, so he just nodded, his cheeks flushed.  

In the following days, Callidus spent most of his time in the private lab.  He was so pleased to have access to such an incredible lab that he quickly forgot about Madam Filodoxos’ odd behaviour when she gave him the Old Magics book.  Caiside, who was aware of the lab and could come and go as she pleased, sometimes deigned to spend the day down there with him, bringing a book to entertain herself.  But more often than not, she prefered the openness of her aggressive and dangerous garden.

Having access to the lab provided Callidus the chance to finally create something for Harry’s birthday, which was at the end of the month.  Knowing how much Harry had appreciated the Camouflage Potion, he had brewed a fresh batch.  On top of that, he also brewed another potion which, when applied to the bottom of one’s feet or shoes, could silence the sound of one’s footsteps.  It was the perfect gift for the budding prankster.

Callidus also decided he would brew a potion for Caiside.  He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt compelled to do it.  Perhaps it was a way of saying: ‘Thanks for being my boredom buddy’ (without having to actually vocalize such horrifyingly saccharine words.)

The end of July arrived quickly.  Callidus was set to depart on the 31st, the exact day of Harry’s birthday, and he would be meeting his friends at Malfoy manor.  While the plan had been to stay at the Filodoxos for a month, and then Hogwarts for the rest of the summer, Harry, Draco and Callidus had, at some point, come to the agreement that the would all spend a week at Malfoy manor together.

When Madam Filodoxos found out where Callidus would be going, she almost had a fit of the vapours.  “Oh gracious!  Oh Callidus, why didn’t you tell me, my dear?  The Malfoys?  You’re friends with the Malfoys?  Oh gracious!  Such an upstanding family!  A paragon a pureblood values!”

Caiside looked like she was going to roll her eyes right out of her head.

Standing before the fireplace, with his bags packed (since Callidus was going to floo to Malfoy manor,) Callidus stood before his foster family, wondering how to make his exit with the least possible awkwardness.  The way Madam Filodoxos was saying: ‘Oh gracious!’ had probably ruined his chance for a graceful exit.

 “It was nice to - er - know you,” Callidus muttered to Caiside.

Caiside smirked.  “It was nice to know you too.  Maybe we’ll see each other at Hogwarts.”

 “Yeah.  Maybe.”  Callidus internally cringed.  This exit was already hopelessly uncomfortable.

 “Here, I made this for you.”  Callidus thrust out his hand, handing Caiside a potion phial.

She looked at the phial, bemused.  “What is it?”

 “It’s a potion that will allow you to graft almost any two or more plants together.  Not that I think it’s a good idea to increase the deadliness of your garden but -” Callidus shrugged, mildly embarrassed.

Caiside looked at the phial with newfound appreciation.  “Really?  Wow.  Thank you, Callidus!  For such a morose, sun-phobic wizard, you’re all right.”

Callidus felt the corners of his lips quirking upwards.  “Yeah, well for an infantile, eye-rolling, gardener of torture and death, you’re all right yourself.”

 “Hey!” Caiside added brightly.  “I have something for you as well.”

Callidus raised his black eyebrows.  “Oh?”

Caiside grinned mischievously.  She handed him a bag.  When he pulled open the ties to look inside, he saw a bunch of oblong pods.  They were the seed pods that he had described as being ‘plant shrapnel bombs.’  A wide grin broke across Callidus’s face.

 “Thanks!” he exclaimed.  He knew it was unlikely that he’d ever need to use the seed pods.  On the other hand, one could never be too sure.  It was a pretty good idea to be able to defend oneself without the use of a wand.

By the time Callidus had thanked the elder Filodoxos’ for their hospitality, their eyes were misty.  Even Segnis, who was usually in his own world of music looked a bit sad.

 “I should write a song to capture this,” Segnis mused.  “The soulful ache of goodbye.  I don’t usually like sad songs, but this - ah, this is a lovely sort of bittersweetness, isn’t it?  The parting of loved ones”

Callidus shifted uneasily  Loved ones?  What in the world was Segnis going on about?  He didn’t even think he had a real conversation with Segnis this entire month.  “Indeed.”

 “Please don’t hesitate to floo or owl us if ever you need anything,” Madam Filodoxos insisted.  

 “All right.  Thank you again.”  He gave the Filodoxos a crooked smile.  Picking up a handful of floo powder, he threw it in the fireplace and when the flames burst into vivid green, he called out: “Malfoy manor!”

Chapter Text

Callidus wasn’t entirely sure of what he was expecting when he arrived at Malfoy manor.  He knew that today was Harry’s birthday, and at some point, Draco had mentioned throwing some sort of party in one of their letters through owl post, but unfortunately, Draco’s letter had been scant in details.  Well, scant in details concerning the party.  Draco always had plenty to say about himself.

Callidus stumbled out of the fireplace into one of the Malfoy’s lavish drawing rooms.  His head was still spinning from the discomfort of floo travel, but he managed to only stumble a bit, rather than windmilling and falling flat on his face.

 “Cal!” Harry greeted cheerfully.  “You’re finally here!”

 “Callidus.” Draco nodded his head, in what could only be described as a pompous manner.

 “Happy birthday Harry,” Callidus said, grinning widely at his friend and blood-brother.  Harry beamed in reply.  A familiar house-elf, Dobby, popped in front of him to take Callidus’s trunk.

 “Thank you Dobby.”  If Callidus had known what the effects of his words would be, he might have chosen to be more curt.

Dobby’s already enormous eyes widened further.  “Master Callidus remembers Dobby’s name!  Master Callidus is too good!  Too kind!  Just like Master Harry!  Oh, Dobby is so happy!  So honoured to have such good and great masters!”

 “Ah - well - yes.  You’re - welcome?”

 “You don’t have to - ugh!  Just dismiss him next time!” Draco was looking at Dobby with embarrassment, his voice sounding pained.  “Dobby, go!”  With that, the house-elf vanished with yet another pop, taking Callidus’s trunk with him.

 “He’s not that bad,” Harry defended.  “I think Dobby is kind of - erm - cute?”

Draco gave Harry an incredulous look.  “Harry.  Baby crups and kneazles are cute.  Puffskeins are cute.  Even Hagrid’s dragon Norberta is kind of cute.  Have you ever taken a close look at a house elf?  They’re grey and knobby and spindly.  They look like emaciated gargoyles!”

 “Okay, maybe not cute.  But - well - likeable.  Kind of.”

Callidus snorted and shook his head.  He might not have seen his friends for a month, and yet it felt like he had never been away.  He decided to cut in before Draco and Harry started squabbling.  “What do you have planned for your birthday, Harry?”

 “Oh!  Well, I didn’t really think about making any plans.  I thought the three of us would just -” Harry shrugged, “- find something fun to do around the manor.  Fly around for a bit, or something.  But then Draco thought we should celebrate, so he invited a few people.  They should be arriving soon so we’re waiting here to greet them.”

 “Oh?  Who’s coming?”

Harry hummed, shuffling his feet self-consciously. “Well, Pansy, and Blaise.  And Hermione.  And Tracey, and Millie and Daphne.  And Theo too.  And Crabbe and Goyle?  Erm - and a bunch of other people I don’t know.  It’s supposed to be a casual get together.”

 “It is casual!” Draco insisted.  “We didn’t even send out proper invites.”  Draco looked very put out by this fact.  “The whole thing is a mess.  People might be arriving at all hours of the day.  I told them to come by at noon, but who knows if they’ve listened.  This is why proper invitations should be sent out before any sort of fete.”

Harry huffed.  “I didn’t ask for this.  I’ve never even had a birthday party before!”

 “Yes, and you’re unlikely to have any sort of proper party until next year, when we can actually properly organize it.  What kind of theme do you suppose you’d like?”

 “What?  Are we talking about for today or for next year?”

 “Wait - how many people are coming?” Callidus questioned.  The idea of suddenly seeing everyone at once struck him as being rather overwhelming.

 “I -” Draco scrunched up his face as he mentally tried to count.  “I don’t remember.  I invited the Slytherins, and Harry wanted Hermione to come.  And then my mother thought that Crabbe and Goyle should come since we used to play together when we younger.  And my father thought that it would be a good chance for Harry to cultivate more connections with other - uh - young-ish people.”

 “So -” Callidus knit his brows together.  “We might literally be stuck in this drawing room, greeting people all day?”

Draco frowned.  “No - yes - maybe?”

 “Can’t a house-elf do that?” Callidus questioned.

 “It’s appalling manners for a host to not personally greet their guests!” Draco exclaimed, aghast at the idea.

Callidus’s eyes slid over to Harry, who was already fidgeting restlessly.  “Harry, shall we go explore the manor?  I know there’s a secret room in the library, but I imagine there are many other secrets that we might find.”

Draco gasped.  “You know about the private library?”

Callidus ignored Draco and raised his eyebrow at Harry expectantly.  Harry gave Draco a mischievous look before shrugging and grinning.  “Sure.  Let’s get out of here.”

 “You are Not abandoning me alone to greet the guests!” Draco exclaimed, sounding almost shrill.

 “You could - I dunno - come with us?” Harry suggested with amusement.

Draco huffed.  “Fine!  Gilly!”  A house-elf popped into place, wearing an expression that was both eager and sweet.

 “How can Gilly serve Master Draco?”

 “Gilly, stay here and greet the guests as they arrive.  Direct them to the pavilion in the west garden.  There’s tables and refreshments set up out there.”

Gilly smiled cheerfully.  “Yes, Master Draco.”

With only the slightest look of guilt, Draco joined Callidus and Harry as the boys quickly left the drawing room, eager to catch up on what had happened in the past month.

By the time the trio made it down to Harry’s ‘birthday party,’ it was over an hour later.  Draco had insisted that Callidus ‘do something’ with his hair, and with a heavy sigh, Callidus submitted to using a fresh dose of Grease-B-Gone potion in his shoulder-length locks.

 “I’m not expecting that you’ll ever look as good as me,” Draco was prattling snobbily.  “But Merlin!  You can’t go out in front of our guests looking like that, Callidus!  It would reflect badly on us.”

 “Yes, sister dear,” Callidus deadpanned.  “Merlin knows I’ll never catch a proper husband looking the way I do, unlike you, the belle of the ball.”

Draco scowled, while Harry chuckled and threw his head back on the sofa where he was sprawled out.  “I’ve missed this.”

 “What.  Us devolving into a state where we’re reduced to puerile bickering?” Callidus asked.

Harry smiled happily.  “Yes.  Feels like -” He stared up at the ceiling as he searched for the right word.  “Home.”

When the trio arrived at the west garden, with Callidus and even Harry looking considerable more polished, most of the guests had arrived.  For a supposedly casual party, in which invites were not even formally issued, the west garden looked lavishly decorated.  There were several tables containing numerous delectable looking finger foods.  The nearby trees were adorned with flittering and glowing fairies.  Round tables, with matched chairs were evenly scattered throughout one section the garden, and a short distance away, a few people were playing magical lawn games.

A shriek pierced the air, and a blur of dark brown hair and pale limbs came flying towards the trio.  “Harrryyy!!  Drakkyyyy!!  Caaal!!”  Pansy Parkinson leapt at them, somehow throwing her arms around the three of them at once.  “I can’t believe you weren’t there when we flooed in!”  She was followed closely by Blaise Zabini who sauntered up to them, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

 “Merlin, Pansy!” Draco exclaimed, trying to push her off.  “How do you manage to become more unsophisticated every time we meet?”

 “You’re one to talk!” Parkinson retorted.  “I’m not the one who left a house-elf to greet personal guests.”

 “That - I - that wasn’t my fault, you cow!” Draco sputtered.

Harry grinned.  “You’re just mad that she called you Draky.  Hullo Pansy.  I’ve missed you too.” He winced, but smiled with affection and resignation as Pansy squeezed him in a tight hug.

 “Happy Birthday, Harry,” Zabini said smoothly.  “Hello Draco.  Lovely party you have here.  How has your summer been?”

 “Listen, I hardly had time to plan this party,” Draco continued to rant.  “Do you realize how many weeks in advance are needed to coordinate an adequate get-together?  There’s the food, the invites, the decor, the music, the -”

Zabini raised up his hands defensively.  “I didn’t mean to throw your delicate sensibilities into a fit of hysterics.  I was being perfectly sincere.  It is a nice party.”

Callidus smirked.  “Only you could say that with a straight face, Zabini.  I’m pretty sure I just saw you eyeing the generic decorations with disdain.”

 “Me?  As if I would ever be so crass as to look down on someone for their very generic choice of decor,” Zabini intoned though Callidus caught the glint of amusement in his eyes.

As Harry and Draco chatted with the Slytherins, Callidus caught sight of Hermione.  The muggleborn was looking decidedly lost and uncomfortable amidst the crowd of mostly purebloods.  Excusing himself, Callidus strode over to Hermione.  When she spotted him, she gave him a relieved smile, glad to see a friendly face.

 “Hermione,” he welcomed. “Are you enjoying watching the indigenous purebloods socializing in the wild?”

 “Hello Callidus.  Everyone’s behaviour is quite interesting,” Hermione replied in such a way that Callidus wasn't sure if she was playing along, or actually being serious.  “I can’t help but think that their life’s purpose is to one-up whomever they are speaking with.”

 “That’s because I’m pretty sure their life’s purpose actually is to one-up whomever they are speaking with,” he answered wryly.  “That or to bow down and ingratiate themselves like suckling bottom feeders, hungry for the meanest of scraps.”

Hermione scrunched her nose.  “How can you stand this sort of thing?  It’s all so - pretentious.”

Callidus gave his friend a look of concern.  “Have the people here been making you feel unwelcome?”  As the only muggleborn, Hermione’s presence was an oddity.  There were many pureblood who would have easily treated her with open derision.

 “No, it’s been all right,” she replied, though her tone sounded uncertain.

Callidus shrugged.  “The people here are no better than you.  I think much of the pompousness has to do with how much gold they have in their vaults as it has to do with blood status.”

Hermione gave him a bemused look.  “It doesn’t bother you?”

Callidus shrugged, but some silent voice in his head was sure that once he made his way in the world, people would be looking up to him and admiring him .  He was ambitious, and he was a Slytherin after all.

 “I should say Happy Birthday to Harry, shouldn’t I,” Hermione mused.

Callidus glanced over to where Harry and Draco were situated.  The two of them were now swarmed by the other guests - many of them admirers of either Harry or the Malfoys.  Callidus could already imagine how uncomfortable Harry probably was, being fawned over by people he barely knew.  A scowl crossed his face, as Callidus’s protective feelings towards his friend and brother arose.  Why wasn’t Draco keeping the sycophants away from Harry?  Wasn’t that one of Draco’s jobs as a so-called ‘spokesperson’ for the trio?

Callidus stalked over to Harry and Draco, trailed by Hermione.  He pushed passed the crowd, and just as he thought, Harry was looking overwhelmed, while Draco was happily soaking up the attention.

 “Draco,” Callidus drawled to his other blood-brother.  “You can take care of all this, can’t you?” He gestured to the crowd, but Draco’s expression was perplexed.  It wasn’t until Callidus place a hand on Harry’s shoulder that Draco understood.  Draco opened his mouth to protest, not wanting to be abandoned by Harry (even if Draco adored getting fawned over), but when Draco saw the strained expression on Harry’s face, he relented with a huff.

 “Fine,” Draco hissed so that only Callidus could hear.  “But you owe me.”  Callidus rolled his eyes.  How did it make sense for him to owe Draco, when he was just letting Draco do something he already enjoyed?  

Callidus excused himself from the crowd, pulling Harry along with him.  They made their way towards the relative privacy of the Malfoy’s hedge maze.  As they strolled through the winding pathway, Callidus listened as Harry and Hermione caught up, and eventually, they were joined by a rather irate-looking Draco.

 “How could you just leave me back there!” Draco exclaimed.  “Do you know how much work it is to handle all those people and their unceasing questions?”  His tone of voice changed as he mimicked the crowd.  “‘ Where’s Harry Potter?’ ‘What’s the guest of honour doing?’ ‘Where’s the great Boy-Who-Lived?’   ‘Such a lovely party you have here, but why didn’t you issue written invites?’ ”

Callidus snorted.  “And yet, you handle the masses so well, Draco.  Besides, most of them were probably all too happy to slather you with a heavy layer of flattery.  You live for that kind of thing.  You don’t need to me to say that invites or not, they’re probably besides themselves with ecstatic glee to be here at this little Malfoy revel.”

 “Naturally they should be honoured.  But that doesn't mean I wanted to be left to the slavering wolves.”

 “Aw,” Harry cut in, his green eyes bright with amusement.  “Are you sad that we left you by yourself?”

Draco pouted and crossed his arms.  “No.”

Callidus snorted again.

Draco threw his hands up in exasperation.  “Fine then, yes!  Are you satisfied?  Just forget about it.  Harry, don’t you want to open your presents?  What’s the point of inviting so many people if you don’t even go out and claim your spoils?”

Harry huffed.  “I didn’t choose to invite all these people.  And I don’t care that much about presents.”

Callidus cursed under his breath.  “I forgot your present in my trunk.  I’ll give it to you tonight, after everyone’s gone.”

 “Just wait until you see what I got you,” Draco preemptively bragged.  “You won’t be able to guess what it is.  I doubt anyone else got you anything like it.  It’s so great, I almost wish I had one just like it.”

 “Erm - thanks?” Harry responded.

 “It’s going to make everyone else’s present look so bad,” Draco continued eagerly.  “I can’t wait to see your face when you get it.  It’s one-of-a-kind.  It’s not the biggest or flashiest item, but it’s probably the rarest and most expensive.  Everyone’s going to be so envious.”

While Draco prattled, Hermione shyly smiled and said:  “I hope you’ll enjoy my present, Harry.”

Harry smiled reassuringly.  “I’m sure I will.”

Draco managed to drag the group of them out of the hedge maze towards the large table where Harry’s gifts were piled up.  When Harry saw the mound, his eyes bulged and his mouth fell open.

 “These are all for me?”

Draco examined the mound with a critical expression.  “Not bad, but you can probably do better next year.  Especially if we plan a proper party.”

Most of the guests had noticed Harry’s reemergence, and they formed a circle around him, watching with interest as Harry made his way towards the presents.  Even the elder Malfoys were there, wearing expensive looking robes, and playing the gracious hosts (since Draco wasn’t doing a sufficient job.)

Aware of the growing crowd, Harry flushed and hesitated, acting embarrassed and almost guilty as though he were some unwelcome vagrant, caught with his hands reaching for expensive family heirlooms.  For a moment, Harry felt as though he did not belong in a place like this.  But Draco, who looked ready to rip open the presents himself, was already handing Harry one of the gifts, eyeing it with anticipation.

 “Open it!” Draco exclaimed, all but bouncing up and down with excitement.  Amused by his friend and blood-brother’s antics, Harry felt himself relaxing the slightest bit.  If this party was all for him, he might as well enjoy it.  His green eyes now alight with curiosity, he ripped open the wrapping paper, eager to see what manner of knickknacks he might be receiving.

Callidus watched as Harry made his way through the mountain of presents, awkwardly thanking people he barely knew, or in some cases, had never even met.  Draco was still handing Harry presents, watching the proceedings with a mix of interest, and growing smugness.  Callidus had the impression that Draco was saving his present for last, like some sort of dramatic grand finale.

Finally, it was the last present of the pile.  The gift was elegantly wrapped, and the wrapping paper glinted gold with snitches, bludgers and for some reason quaffles, whizzing around (even if quaffles did not fly).  Harry admired the beautiful wrapping paper, wondering if the fluttering snitches were real gold (they were.)

 “This is yours?” Harry asked.

Draco smirked.  “Of course.”

Though Harry was growing exhausted from opening so many gifts, he perked up with interest.  Even Callidus, who had no desire to feed Draco’s ego, found himself edging forwards, curious to see what the other boy had gifted to Harry.  Unlike the other gifts, Harry was a bit more careful about opening this one, as though he did not want to tear the paper.  Beneath the wrapping paper was an ornate miniature chest.  Harry lifted the lid of the chest, and pulled out a pendant, which glowed in a greenish light, before fading.  Harry held the pendant in front of him, admiring the item which dangled from a black-ish red cord.

 “It’s a dragon tooth,” Draco informed him.  “I had my father have one of his acquaintances enchant it.  It has a few magical properties, but the main one is that it can protect you from danger.  It has some shield-like abilities, among other things.”

Callidus’s eyes widened.  Draco wasn’t jesting when he said the gift was one-of-a-kind.  Enchanting was a highly advanced and difficult form of magic that wasn’t even taught at Hogwarts.  It was an ability that few could master, and involved intricate spell-work to weave permanent and powerful magic into objects.  Almost all magical artifacts - the rare and expensive ones at least - were created through enchantments.  Most witches and wizards never bothered to learn enchanting and were satisfied to simply stick to charming objects, which, while effective, was also temporary.

 “Wow!” Harry exclaimed.  “Thanks, Draco!  It’s awesome!”

 “The cord is made from woven dragon heartstrings,” Draco added smugly, as Harry pulled the necklace over his head.  As the pendant fell to a rest against the center of Harry’s chest, Harry suddenly froze.  His pupils constricted to pin-pricks, making his eyes look eerily green.  The colour seemed to leach from his face.  Harry swayed in place.

 “Harry?” Callidus dashed over to his friend, concerned, and gripping his shoulders.  Something told him to make use of his magical sensitivity, and with push of concentration, he focused on his friend.  He nearly leapt away from the ominous feeling that roiled under his skin, surrounding Harry.  It seemed to wave and crest, feeling oddly cold, and incredibly hostile.  Was it the pendent?

Callidus reached for the dragon tooth, but before he could touch it, a feeling of intense revulsion swept through him and he recoiled, unable to bring himself to touch the necklace.  Even now, the idea of being near it filled him with a strange sense of inexplicable horror.

 “What is this?” Callidus hissed.  “Draco, what did you do?”  

Draco, Hermione and many of the other Slytherins watched the scene with confusion and concern.  The guests had no idea what was going on.  All Harry was really doing was standing there, and it seemed like Callidus was the only one who was aware of how wrong everything felt.

 “Why can’t I touch the pendant?” Callidus demanded, keeping his voice low, but his eyes hard.

Draco was taken aback by the intense look on Callidus’s face.  “I - it’s enchanted so that only Harry can touch or remove it.  What’s the point of a protective artifact if just anyone can snatch it?”

Callidus turned back to Harry.  “Harry?  Harry!  Take off the pendant.”

 “Hey!  Why should he have to take off the pendant?” Draco demanded, but Callidus ignored him.

Harry blinked, and his pupils soon returned to their normal size.  The roiling, wavy feeling beneath Callidus’s skin lessened, but still remained.

 “Huh?  Why are you -”  Harry looked at Callidus in confusion, wondering why the other boy’s hands were on his shoulders.  “Did something happen?”

 “Harry,” Callidus repeated.  “Can you take the pendant off?”

Harry’s hand reached up to wrap around the dragon tooth.  Part of its enchantments meant that the blade-like edge of the tooth couldn’t penetrate Harry’s skin, so the the item did him no harm.  But instead of pulling the necklace off, Harry simply held it against his chest.

 “Why?” Harry wondered, with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

 “Just - please,” Callidus pleaded.  “I have a weird feeling about it.”

 “I - erm - maybe later, yeah?”  Harry looked at the crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces.  “Not here when we’re surrounded by all these people.”

Callidus frowned, but he had no inclination to make a scene.  “Fine.”

 “What’s going on?” Draco asked, grey eyes flashing with annoyance.  “Why are you being so weird, Callidus?  What’s your problem?  Jealous that my gift is so much better than yours?”

Callidus wanted to throw his hands up, or roll his eyes, or huff dramatically, but knowing that there were so many pairs of eyes on him, he maintained his stoic demeanour.  “We’ll discuss this later.”

Chapter Text

That evening, when all the guests had finally left, the trio gathered in the guest room that Callidus and Harry shared.  They were sitting cross-legged on the excessively enormous four-poster bed, and Callidus had finally given Harry his present, which Harry had been immensely pleased with.  Already, Harry seemed to be imagining the hijinks he could get up to, with both the Camouflage Potion and the Foot-silencing Potion.

 “So,” Callidus began, looking down at Harry’s chest, “will you remove the pendant now?”

 “I -” Harry placed a hand over the pendant.  “Why do you want me to remove it so much anyway?  It’s really cool.  I don’t see why I should take it off.”

Draco shot Callidus the most unbearably self-satisfied smile imaginable, and Callidus scowled.

Trying to ignore Draco, Callidus pinned his black eyes on Harry.  “Listen. Earlier today, when you put the pendant on, you were acting strange.  Everyone else was likely too far away to notice, but your pupils became constricted, and you looked extremely pallid.  I sensed a really strange sort of magic from you that I can only describe as being cold, and disturbing.  I’m concerned.”

Harry’s brows drew together and he pursed his lips.  But before he could speak, Draco cut in.  “That was probably just the feeling of the defensive magic.”

Callidus frowned.  “I wasn’t trying to hurt Harry.  Why would the enchantment get worked up about me?  Unless it’s faulty.”

 “It’s not faulty!” Draco asserted.  “I would never give something to Harry if it were faulty.”

 “I feel fine,” Harry pointed out.  “I don’t even remember feeling weird earlier.”

 “Exactly what sort of enchantments have been put on that pendent anyway?” Callidus grilled Draco.

Draco crossed his arms, looking both defensive and irritated.  “Only good enchantments.  There’s the main one which protects Harry from most magical attacks - I mean, it won’t make him invincible or anything, and I’m not sure if it can withstand a prolonged assault, but it means that he’ll be guarded from most magical surprise attacks.  And there’s the one that allow only Harry to touch or remove the pendent.  And there’s a minor enchantment that provides some protection against fire.  And one that helps him to sense the direction that danger might be coming from, but to be honest, those types of enchantments can be a bit finicky.  There’s one that can help keep his reflexes sharp - not that Harry needs to improve his reflexes, but it seemed like a nice bonus.  And I think that’s it.”

 “Wow.”  Harry looked down at the dragon tooth, his eyes bright.  “It can do all that?”

Draco smiled smugly.  But before he could reply, Callidus spoke.  “Be that as it may, I still think you should remove it.  Even just for a moment.  I know this sounds like an odd request, and I can’t articulate why it seems important -”

Harry huffed.  “Fine.”  He wrapped his hands around the dragon heartstring cord, and lifted the necklace over his head, dangling it mockingly in front of Callidus’s face for all but two seconds before throwing it back on.

Harry raised his eyebrows.  “Satisfied?”

Callidus’s mouth twisted downwards.  No, he wasn’t satisfied at all.  Why had Harry gotten so attached to the necklace so quickly?  Harry didn’t seem like a materialistic sort of person and rarely gave a second thought about any of his things.  But there was nothing more that Callidus could say without looking overly paranoid and perhaps even jealous, if Draco’s amused expression was anything to go by.

With a sigh, Callidus forced himself to let the matter go, and turned to Draco.  “Who created the enchantments anyway?”

 “An old associate of my father’s.  Malfoys are extremely well connected.”

 “You were the one who dealt with him?  Or your father?” Callidus continued to question.

Draco narrowed his eyes.  “What’s with these questions?  Just admit that I gave him the better present, and get over it!”

 “I like both of your presents equally!” Harry chirped.  “Now can we please talk about something else?”

With yet another sigh, Callidus relented, not wanting to upset Harry on his birthday.  There was no sense in forcing the matter.  Perhaps he would try and do some research, while he had the extensive Malfoy library on hand.  And he wasn’t jealous that Draco had gotten Harry the better present.  Not one bit.

A few days later, the three boys received their second year letters from Hogwarts.  They had been spending the past few days testing out the combination of the Camouflage and Foot-silencing Potions, terrorizing the Malfoy’s albino peacocks, and house-elves and basically any other living creature (aside from the senior Malfoys) that they came across.  Callidus kept intending to research the subject of enchantments, but after not seeing his brother/friends for a month, it was hard to resist the call of fun.  There would be plenty of time for research later, and since that first day, there had been no recurrence of strange behaviour from Harry.  Yes, it was true that if he used his magical sensitivity, something felt different about Harry, but as far as he could tell, Harry was his normal, energetic self.

The trio were late down to the breakfast table, and Lucius Malfoy, who was reading the Daily Prophet arched a blond eyebrow at them.  The trio said their ‘good mornings,’ and Draco looked slightly abashed.  It was his fault that they were late - he was the one who spent twenty minutes fussing with his robes because they wouldn’t ‘drape right.’  They sat in their usual places.

 “Your school letters have arrived,” Lucius Malfoy intoned.  “I gather you’ll be needing new supplies.  I can take you to Diagon Alley on Wednesday, so be prepared.”  He called out for one of the house-elves, who appeared with a pop, bearing a silver platter on which the three letters sat.  The boys each took their letters, unfolding and then reading them.

 “It’s mostly just books,” Draco observed, as his eyes scanned the green-coloured ink.  “From a - Gilderoy Lockhart?  Father, have you heard of this fellow?”  

A look of disdain crossed the elder Malfoy’s face.  “He’s your new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.  Questionable background.  Dumbledore seems to be scraping the bottom of the barrel in his attempt to fill that ill-fated post.  I don’t know what it will take to convince those fools on the Board of Governors that Dumbledore is unfit to run an institution like Hogwarts.  Most of them are blinded by his past accomplishments, and can’t seem to see how he’s fallen into doddering senility.”

 “Quite right, Father,” Draco agreed, and Harry and Callidus had to do their best to refrain from rolling their eyes at the breakfast table.  It wasn’t too difficult because both of them were still intimidated by the cold, predatory demeanour of Lucius Malfoy.  

In the days before Wednesday, Harry and Draco decided to create some sort of self-enforced training schedule on their brooms, determined that this year would be the year that they would make it onto the Slytherin Quidditch team.  This mostly involved Draco shouting a lot of orders, which Harry gleefully ignored, as he performed some sort of dangerous-looking maneuver, that would make a Quidditch coach proud, and cause worried mothers to have heart palpitations.  It meant that Callidus finally had the opportunity to slip away to the library and research to his heart’s content.  He regretted not showing Hermione the library while she had been at the manor.  It would have been amusing to see her trying to repress her envy.  For a brief moment, Callidus wondered if it made him a bad friend to want for Hermione to be envious, but then he just shrugged the whole matter off.  While he learned a great deal of interesting things about enchantments, he learned nothing that gave him an hint about Harry’s necklace.  By the time Wednesday arrived, he felt that he should probably just let the whole matter go.

They travelled to Diagon Alley by floo, since Lucius Malfoy didn’t want to have to apparate with three boys at once.  He took them to Gringotts bank first, where the Malfoys and Harry each separately went to their own vaults to collect the gold they needed for their supplies. Callidus had no need for any galleons from his vault.  He had earned enough with his potions trade over the school year to purchase the books he needed.  Besides, without a real job, he didn’t want to dip into his savings unless it was absolutely necessary.  When Harry returned, he looked rather exhilarated from the cart ride, while the Malfoys appeared as polished and unruffled as ever.

Outside of Gringotts, Lucius Malfoy looked down on the three boys, a stern expression on his face.  “There is some business I need to take care of today.  You three are to meet me in an hour at Flourish and Blotts.  You are to stay together and not separate.  I am trusting that you are mature enough to understand these terms.”

 “Are you going to Knockturn Alley, father?”  Draco queried.  “Can’t we come with you?  Harry and Callidus have never been, have you?”

Lucius Malfoy narrowed his eyes, and Draco’s mouth immediately snapped shut.  “You will be waiting for me at Flourish and Blotts in an hour.  Have I made myself clear?”

Draco muttered: “Yes, father,” while Callidus and Harry said: “Yes, Mr. Malfoy.”

Giving them a curt nod, Lucius Malfoy dropped them off at a nearby shop entrance which turned out to be Quality Quidditch Supplies, while he ventured off to take care of his personal business.  Harry and Draco explored the store with interest, while Callidus half-heartedly trailed behind.  Watching Quidditch might be interesting, but he did not have the same fanatical interest as his friends/brothers did, and he had no interest at all in flying.

 “Let’s go to Gambol and Japes next,” Draco suggested, referring to the wizarding joke shop.  When the trio entered the joke shop, they found themselves face-to-face with a bunch of similar-looking red-heads.  It appeared that the Weasley family had decided to do their shopping on the same day as the trio.

 “Well, well,” greeted one of the Weasley twins, when they noticed the entrance of the trio.

 “Look what we have here,” continued the other twin.

 “If it isn’t our little rivals.”

 “We never did congratulate you on your last prank, did we?”

 “How can you be so sure it was us?” Callidus drawled.  Hogwarts would never be as welcoming of Slytherin pranksters as they would be of Gryffindor ones, and the trio had still been maintaining the secrecy of their actions.  At least to anyone outside of Slytherin.

 “What are you doing here?” Ron Weasley cut in rudely.

 “I might ask you the same question,” Draco countered.  “Isn’t your money better spent buying clothes or food?  Oh wait - silly me - I assumed you could afford both, but considering how you dress, it’s obvious that you can’t.”

 “Now, now,” one of the twins interjected.

 “No need to be nasty.  We’re all friends, here, aren’t we?”  The twin raised mischievous red eyebrows, flashing toothy grins.

 “Is that -” came a feminine voice filled with awe, “- Harry Potter?”

The trio looked over and saw yet another red-head, this time a young girl, who immediately flushed a cherry red when she noticed all the eyes on her.  She made an ‘eep!’ sound and quickly ducked away.

 “Erm - may we introduce our baby sister, Ginny,” the twins announced, gesturing grandly at the now-empty space.

Harry glanced at the empty space with bemusement.  “Nice to meet you?”

There was another embarrassed squeak which had the twins snorting with laughter, and Ron Weasley scrunching up his face with disgust.

 “She talks about you non-stop Harry,” one of the twins informed them, conspiratorially.

 “I’m surprised she hasn’t asked you for an autograph.”

 “Ugh. Girls,” Ron Weasley muttered under his breath, his arms crossed.  “How can she still like him when he’s a ruddy snake?”

Harry was fidgeting uncomfortably.  He didn’t like being reminded of his fame, and knowing that some little red-headed girl was not-so-secretly gushing over him did not help.  Draco looked like he was trying not to laugh, and even Callidus was mildly amused.

As if sensing his embarrassment, the twins grinned.  “Well.”

 “Worry not, little hero.”

 “Finer men then you have fallen to the wiles of the fairer sex.”  The twins words were only causing Harry’s blush to worsen, so that it had spread up his ears and down his neck.  

Draco looked like he was about to make a rude comment about how the youngest Weasley didn’t qualify as ‘fair,’ and not wanting to get into a battle royal in the middle of a joke shop concerning the Weasley’s honour, Callidus quickly cut in.  “We should be getting to Flourish and Blotts.”

The twins smirked.  “All right then.”

 “We’ll be keeping our eyes on you.”

 “Can’t let a trio of snakes steal our glory after all.”  With jaunty waves, the Weasleys twins returned to their shopping, dragging their stubborn younger brother along with them by his arms.

Callidus, Harry and Draco left Gambol and Japes without purchasing anything, or truly even having the chance to look around.  Draco looked rather put out by this, while Harry was still embarrassed.  They decided that they would go to Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop next when their attention was caught by a loud ruckus on the streets.

Draco craned his neck, trying to catch sight of what was happening  “What’s going on?”

There was a crowd forming, amidst shouts and shrieks.  There were strange animalistic noises, and someone was crying out:  “Help! Get him off!  Get him off me!  He’s mad!”  The trio weren’t sure of whether to back away, or edge closer.  They couldn’t deny that they were curious, but the crowd was thick - especially with families shopping for Hogwarts supplies.  There were sudden flashes of light as spells were being cast.

 “Watch that stupefy!” An angry voice snapped.  “You almost got me!”

 “ Stupefy!  Stupefy! ”

 “Stop casting!  It’s too crowded!”

 “Grab him by the arms!  Help me with this!” A deep voice demanded.  “Get his other one!  Watch that spell!”

 “ Petrificus Totalis! ”

 “Someone call for the aurors!”  A high pitched voice cried out.  

 “Use Incarcerous! ”

 “He’s acting out of control!  He’s like an animal!” Another voice exclaimed.  “What happened?  He was normal before.”

 “ Incarcerous! ”

The loud cracking noise of apparition pulled the crowd’s attention as uniformed aurors appeared on the scene, striding forward with a firm and calm authority.  The crowd immediately parted, letting the auror’s through.  Callidus caught a glimpse of a man who was completely bound in ropes and pinned down on the cobblestone by two other men.  The flailing man was wild-eyed and frantic, snarling and thrashing but unable to move.  But then the aurors blocked everything from sight, using a stunning spell to knock the struggling man unconscious.

 “Back away, please!” One of the aurors called out.  “Official auror business.”

Eventually, the milling crowd dispersed as the roped and unconscious man was taken away.  The shoppers gossiped excitedly, all too eager to spread news of the lurid and dramatic scene.  The trio listened curiously eventually gathering the pieces together.  It sounded as though one of the shoppers, who had been acting perfectly normal beforehand if a bit over-chatty, suddenly snapped and started grunting and snarling, throwing his fists and attacking the people nearest to him.  No one had seen any spells being cast at him, though some speculated that perhaps he was carrying a cursed object.  As accustomed as people might be to magic, it wasn’t every day that a man just started acting like a rabid, aggressive beast, so it was interesting news.

The twins were so intrigued to have witnessed the event almost first-hand that an hour had passed, and they belatedly realized that they needed to get to Flourish and Blotts.

 “My father is going to kill me!” Draco groaned, as he tugged his brother/friends towards the bookstore.  “I can’t believe we forgot to keep track of the time!”

Harry stumbled after him.  “Just explain what happened!”

 “If he doesn’t kill me first!”

The trio made their way to the bookstore, and saw Lucius Malfoy standing outside, his hand gripping the head of his walking stick, and a tightness around his eyes and jaw.  His silvery eyes narrowed dangerously as they fell upon the trio who were clumsily dashing up to him.  There was a banner over the bookstore window that proclaimed that there was a book signing inside, but considering the frosty look in Lucius Malfoy’s eyes, the sign didn’t seem important.

 “Did I not tell you to meet me here over an hour ago?” Lucius Malfoy questioned darkly, his voice level and yet filled with an unspoken sort of threat.

Draco’s head was bowed, and it was strange for Callidus to see his friend so subdued. “I apologize father.”

 “Someone was going berserk on the streets!” Harry interjected, hating to see Draco being chastised.  “There were aurors and everything!”

 “Pardon?” Lucius Malfoy turned to examine Harry, and his grip on his walking stick tightened.

 “There was some guy who started attacking people out of nowhere,” Harry babbled.  “People were casting spells, and shouting, and trying to stop him, and I think they had to physically pin him down, and eventually, they managed to bind him him, and the aurors came and took him away.”

Rather than looking surprised, the elder Malfoy looked even tenser.  In fact, if Callidus had to guess, he would have said that the man was angry.  But why?  Was he still upset at Draco?  It wasn’t as though any of them could predict such a thing would happen.

 “Father?” Draco’s voice was small and hesitant, as the trio awaited Lucius Malfoy’s response.

 “Thank Merlin you three are safe,” the elder Malfoy intoned, sounding not particularly thankful.  It was as though he only spoke the words because they were what was expected in the situation.  However, he did not appear to be upset with Draco any longer.  Rather, Lucius Malfoy became preoccupied with his own thoughts, and the trio might as well have not existed.

They were herded into Flourish and Blotts was which packed.  Inside the store, they caught sight of a familiar bushy head of hair.  It looked as if Hermione had chosen the same day to buy her school supplies.

 “Hermione,” Callidus called out, but she did not appear to hear him.

 “Hermione!” Harry’s voice carried a bit better, and Hermione turned around, giving them a wide smile and a wave when she saw them.  There were several books clutched against her chest.  The trio pushed their way towards her.

 “Who’s giving the signing today?”  Callidus asked.

 “You didn’t see the big sign outside?  Oh - it’s really too bad you weren’t here earlier.  You missed his big speech!” she gushed, looking and sounding far too excited.

 “Whose big speech?” Harry questioned.

 “Gilderoy Lockhart’s!  He’s incredible!”

The trio shared a look.  “He’s here?” Callidus queried.  The trio looked around the store, but Lockhart must have been sitting down to do his signings because they could not see him.

 “Of course he’s here!” Hermione replied, starry-eyed. “I’m just waiting in line to get my books signed.  I’m ever so glad that we’ll be learning from his wonderful books this year.”

 “Er -” Harry eyed the crowd uneasily.  “Well, I think we just want to get our books and get out of here.”

 “Yes, this is ridiculous.”  Draco looked at the people around him with an expression of slight disgust, as though someone unsavoury might accidently touch him or something.

 “You’d like to meet him, wouldn’t you, Callidus?” Hermione’s expression was hopeful.  “I know you’d respect a well-written author.”

 “I believe I’ll pass,” Callidus answered.  “We’ll be seeing him in class anyway.”

Hermione gave him a puzzled look.  “What do you mean?”

 “He’ll be teaching at Hogwarts.  Didn’t you know?”

Hermione’s eyes lit up with bright awe.  “Truly?  This is wonderful!  I can’t believe it!”

 “Yes well - thus our lack of desire to stand around, getting our course books signed,” Callidus concluded.

Hermione pouted but seemed to get over her disappointment quickly.  “Oh.  Well, all right.”

As the trio collected the books that they needed, they heard some of the bookstore’s patrons talking about the scene that had occurred on the street.

An arrogant voice declared: “Why, if only I had known of it!  I would have taken care of that blackguard in a jiffy!  He wouldn’t have stood a chance against me!”

There was a collective sigh that seemed to go around the room - especially among the women.  Callidus could have sworn that he even saw some of them fluttering their eyelashes.  It was decidedly odd.

 “I could have used one or two of my signature spells on him!” The voice continued to brag.  “That way, no innocent bystanders would have been hurt, and the aurors wouldn’t have even been needed!  Besides my smile - which as many of you know, has won Witch Weekly’s Most Charming-Smile Award five times in a row - is known to be good for calming down hysterical crowds.”

 “That isn’t our future-professor, is it?” Harry questioned.  “He sound like -” Harry tried to search for the best word to describe the idiocy that they were being subjected to.

 “A complete pillock, is what he sounds like,” Draco muttered.  “My father is right.  Dumbledore really is scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

 “Let’s get out of here,” Callidus suggested.  “I don’t think this store is big enough for all us and that man’s ego.”

As rapidly as possible, the trio found all the books they needed, and by the time they had all paid, they were glad to leave not only the bookstore, but Diagon Alley.  It had been a highly eventful day.

Chapter Text

The unusual event that the trio had witnessed the previous day in the streets of Diagon Alley ended up being front page news in the Daily Prophet .  MAN VIOLENTLY ATTACKS BYSTANDERS ON DIAGON ALLEY!  The headline read.  And beneath that, in slightly smaller letters: SPELL?  CURSE?  OR FRIGHTENING NEW DISEASE?  

Curious to know more about it, the trio took the paper after Lucius was finished with it, scanning the details of the article.  They did not end up discovering anything particularly illuminating.  The man had been a muggleborn, living quite comfortably in wizarding society for decades (unlike numerous other muggleborns who often returned to the muggle world.)  He had been unmarried, but had numerous friends, and coworkers thought well of him.  There had been an odd orange rash on his lower back that the researchers in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was still investigating.

On the second page of the newspaper, there had been an article about over-excited women and Gilderoy Lockhart’s book signing in Diagon Alley, but the trio cared nothing about that (though Callidus may have silently snickered as he imagined Hermione being one of those over-excited women.)  The three of them might have put the strange incident in Diagon Alley behind them, but because of the particular tensions that were arising in the wizarding world, the issue could not be so easily forgotten.  Public perception towards muggles had steadily been becoming more negative.  Callidus could not help thinking about some of the things that Caiside had told him: how some wizards and witches were engaging in muggle baiting, or how various towns and villages were feeling an increasing sense of animosity towards muggles.  It was no surprise then, that this negative attitude towards muggles would eventually extend towards muggleborns.

The Daily Prophet , which spuriously claimed to be an unbiased source of information did not ever actually print any articles laying blame on muggleborns.  Something like that would have stretched the credulity of too many of their readers.  The Prophet did, however, post opinion pieces, and other articles that often painted muggleborns in a negative light.  It was maddening enough that Callidus was tempted to stop read the paper although.  To make matters more aggravating, Draco acted as though the papers were perfectly justified in reporting the information that they did.

It was with a sense of relief when a few days later, Callidus and Harry were packed up to leave for Hogwarts, where they would stay for the rest of the summer holidays.  The outcry related to the attack in Diagon Alley was finally dying down, and hopefully the rest of the summer could be enjoyed in peace.  Callidus and Harry travelled by floo, arriving in Professor McGonagall’s office in Hogwarts.  Professor Slughorn may have been their Head of House, but he was not spending his summer at the school.  As for Professor Dumbledore, he may have been at the school, but the headmaster was a busy man.  Thus, the responsibility for the boys rested largely on McGonagall’s shoulders, though at twelve, the boys felt old enough to take care of themselves.

 “Welcome back, Mr. Potter.  Hello, Mr. Prince,” Professor McGonagall greeted them, her expression stern, but at the same time, somehow warm.

 “Hullo, Professor!” Harry smiled brightly while Callidus gave her a polite nod.

 “Should we take our belongings down to the dungeon?” Callidus gestured towards their trunks.

 “Merlin, no!” McGonagall answered.  “There are a set of spare rooms that have been transfigured for your needs for the rest of the summer.”

Harry leaned over to Callidus and whispered: “She doesn’t want to go all the way down to the dungeons to have to check on us.”

Callidus wasn’t sure of what to make of that.  A part of him felt a bit affronted.  Did McGonagall lump him and Harry in the same category as the Weasleys, or something?  Neither Callidus nor Harry would ever be so unruly as to damage or destroy anything in the Slytherin dungeons.  But Callidus did not protest.  He was curious enough about their temporary lodgings.

Callidus’s and Harry’s new rooms were close to Professor McGonagall’s office.  It was probably a converted classroom, but it had a nice set of four poster beds (in neutral shades of beige and brown), and they had their own bathroom.  There was a large window from which the Quidditch pitch could be seen.  It was actually rather nice.

 “Be aware that curfew still applies,” Professor McGonagall informed them.  “I won’t have you two running around Hogwarts at all hours of the night.  It’s a privilege for you to be able to stay here over the summers, and I expect both of you to respect that.”

 “Yes, Professor,” the boys replied dutifully.  McGonagall left them to unpack and settle in.  When that was taken care of, Harry looked over at Callidus.

 “What do you feel like doing?”

Callidus tilted his head in thought.  Last summer, he had spent his time at Hogwarts exploring and reading (but mostly reading).  Then again, last summer, he was still grieving the loss of Lily.  He felt a sharp pang in his heart at the recollection.  He still missed her, but at least he had many new friends now.

Callidus shrugged.  “What have you been doing while you were here?”  Since Harry had only needed to stay with his muggle relatives for two weeks, he had already been at Hogwarts for a while.

 “Looked for secret passages.  Flew around the Quidditch pitch, but the brooms here aren’t as nice as Draco’s.  Erm - tried to learn some new spells that might be useful for pranking.  What should we do for pranks this year, anyway?  Remember what the Weasley twins said?”

Callidus hummed thoughtfully.  “This will require some research.”  Harry scrunched up his face at the thought of research.

 “I didn’t necessarily mean in the library,” Callidus clarified.  “The more of Hogwart’s secrets that we can learn, the better.  And should we try another school-wide prank, or target someone in particular?”

 “I wouldn’t feel right about targeting a single person,” Harry mused.  “It should be something fun, that’ll make everyone laugh.”

Callidus couldn’t help but smile.  Harry still seemed too nice for a Slytherin.  If Draco were here, he’d probably be suggesting the most humiliating types prank possible.  

 “Maybe we should try and make something this year,” Harry continued.  “We could try and make our own joke-items, like the Weasleys do.”

 “It might involve magic that’s more advanced than our current skill level.”

Harry shrugged and grinned.  “I’m willing to learn, for the sake of pranking.”

 “It’s actually a good idea.  It would make for an interesting project.”  Callidus thought about Caiside’s exploding seed pods, and how much of an advantage it could be to have offencive tools without relying on one’s wand.  He was liking the whole concept more and more.  “We should do it.  Any ideas?”

Harry hummed.  “You know how we saw that bloke going all nutters and attacking people on Diagon Alley?”

 “What about him?”

 “What if we had something that could have calmed him down, without hurting the people around him?”

 “Do you have something in mind?”

Harry nodded.  “You know how muggles have things like tear gas or laughing gas?  What if we make something similar.  Like, a magical equivalent.  Sort of like a dungbomb, but instead of making things smell like dung, it makes people friendly.”

 “Hmm.”  Callidus considered the notion.  It had a lot of possibilities.  He had never considered potions administration via gas form - such a thing would have held immense risks because gasses were so difficult to control.  Was it doable?  He didn’t see why not.  In fact, the idea was incredibly intriguing.  He hadn’t given much thought to what kind of potions projects he wanted to attempt this year, and now he had an interesting avenue of possible research.

 “That’s a really good idea, Harry.”

Harry brightened.  “You think so?”

Callidus nodded. “Definitely.  In terms of making people friendly - the basis of that could be something like a love potion, but milder, and more generalized.  The question is whether we can create the potion in gas form.  Or - hm.  I wonder if there is a way to create vessel that perhaps vapourizes the potion, dispersing the liquid as a gas.  Potions can be highly reactive to their vessels.  Perhaps we could magically alter the phials themselves to turn them into vapourizers when properly triggered.  This has a lot of possibilities.  We should go to the library.”

Harry groaned.

Callidus sighed.  “Fine.  We can look for secret passages today.  But the library really would be the best place to start if we’re going to be crafting prank objects.”

Harry beamed happily.  They spent the next few hours wandering parts of the castle that they were less familiar with.  The castle seemed to have a lot of unused classrooms.  Perhaps, before the previous wizarding war, there had been more school children, and the castle had been fuller.  But now, much of it stood empty.  They didn’t manage to find any secret passages, but they did find a hidden room and spoke to a chatty portrait that claimed that the way into the Hogwarts kitchens involved tickling a pear.  The hidden room seemed to have a masochistic streak and only opened its door under coercion and insults.  As for the mystery of the kitchens, Callidus didn’t know what to believe.

When their energy began to flag, Callidus attempted convince Harry that the library would be a good place to relax.

 “Madam Pince doesn’t spend her summers at Hogwarts,” Callidus pointed out.  “And yes, the chairs are hard, but we can just use a cushioning charm.  Seeing as you’re pretty much a master at creating cushioning charms, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Harry snickered.  “I s’pose that considering I managed to save your life with a cushioning charm, I am pretty good at them, aren’t I?”

 “I bow to your greater knowledge, wise master.”  Callidus performed a smooth bow.

 “It’s too bad we can’t just transfigure the chairs into beds,” Harry sighed.  “Or at least a soft, cushy sofa.”

 “I imagine that the library would be the ideal place to find the transfiguration spell you need to turn a chair into a bed.”

Harry rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  You know what?  I’m going to do it.  I’m going to learn to turn a chair into a sofa.”

Callidus smirked.  “Of course.”  What mattered was that Harry was agreeing to join him in the library.

In the end, Callidus ended up taking several books with him back to their shared chambers, rather than remaining in the library.  Harry had, indeed, attempted to transfigure a chair into a soft sofa, but after setting one of the chairs on fire, Callidus decided that library really wasn’t the ideal location for letting Harry pratice spells.  At least in their chambers, they weren’t at risk of creating an inferno that would burn down centuries and centuries of knowledge.  

The four poster beds at Hogwarts might not have been as soft and luxurious as the ones at Malfoy manor, but Callidus went to bed that night feeling warm and contented.  He liked spending time with Draco, but he also liked having the chance to have Harry to himself.  Draco could be so demanding of Harry’s attention.  While it was true that Draco provided amusing company, Callidus did find him a bit tiring - especially once Draco started prattling about himself.  He wasn’t sure how Harry put up with it so well.

Though sleep came easily that night, Callidus’s rest was disrupted by the sound of rustling and moaning.  It was still pitch black outside, and Callidus couldn’t even guess what time it was.  He wondered if he had just been awoken by random castle noises from this unfamiliar room, when heard the moaning again.  It was Harry.  Was his friend having bad dreams?

Callidus wasn’t sure of what to do.  When he had shared a bed with Harry in Malfoy manor, Harry usually slept pretty well.  Sometimes, he would feel the other boy tossing or turning, and occasionally, Harry would mumble in his sleep.  But whatever Harry was dreaming about seemed to be more troubling than usual because the other boy kept flinging his arms and legs restlessly, making unhappy sounds.  Should Callidus wake him?  Would that be weird?

Callidus shifted onto his side, and tried to go back to sleep, but Harry wouldn’t stop moving and moaning.  Perhaps it would be a good idea to make sure his friend was all right.  Pulling his covers aside, Callidus lit the tip of his wand with a dim lumos spell and crept to the side of his friend’s bed.

 “Harry?”  There seemed to be no reaction, except that Harry furrowed his brow.

 “Harry!” Callidus spoke a bit louder this time, reaching out to touch his friend’s shoulder.  With a jerk, Harry jolted awake, causing Callidus to flinch back.

 “Cal?  What the hell?!  Get that damn light out of my face!” Harry hissed, sounding angrier than Callidus had ever heard him before.  “What’s your problem?  Why did you wake me?  I was so close to to figuring it all out!  I was so close to knowing the chamber’s secrets!  Just - arg!  Don’t Ever wake me again, got that?”

 “I - I apologize,” Callidus said stiffly.  “I’ll leave you to your rest then.”

Harry just made a disgruntled noise, turning his back on Callidus and throwing the covers over his head.  When Callidus climbed back into his bed, it took a long time for him to fall back asleep.

The following morning, Callidus was guarded and uneasy around Harry, but his friend seemed to be back to normal.  They had changed into their robes and were making their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.  Harry was chattering about some new prank suggestions, and about spells he wanted to learn.  It wasn’t until they were seated and half-way finished eating breakfast that Harry noticed Callidus’s subdued manner.

 “Cal?  Is everything all right?  You seem quieter than usual.”

 “Is everything all right with you?” Callidus threw the question back.

Harry’s expression was perplexed.  “With me?  Why wouldn’t things be all right?”

 “You flew off the handle last night when I woke you.”

 “I - what?  I did?”  Harry’s wrinkled his face as he tried to recall.  “I remember having some interesting dreams.  If I said something to you, I didn’t mean it.”

 “You don’t remember me waking you?”  Callidus’s expression was incredulous.

Harry shook his head.  “Not really, no.  Could I have been sleep talking?  You said you’ve heard me talk in my sleep before, yeah?”

 “It didn’t particularly sound like sleep talking.”

Harry frowned.  “I don’t know how else to explain it.  What did I say?”

 “You got really mad at me.  You told me not to wake you again.  And something about secrets.  And a chamber?  Were you dreaming about that room we found yesterday?”

Harry hummed.  “I don’t think so.  All I can remember was seeing a really big stone head.  Weird, huh?  But maybe all this talk about finding secret passages is affecting my dreams.”

 “Perhaps that’s what it is.”

 “I didn’t mean to upset you.”  Harry was starting to look a bit guilty.

 “Nevermind it. I imagine I’m making something out of nothing.  It isn’t a big deal.”

 “Hm.  All right then.”

Their conversation was disrupted by the sight of an unfamiliar owl, which dropped a letter on top of Callidus’s eggs.  Picking up the folded parchment, and wiping off the bits of eggs with mild irritation, Callidus checked the front of the letter to see who it was from.

 “Who wrote you?” Harry questioned.  “That doesn’t look like the parchment that Draco or Hermione uses.”

Callidus broke into a smile when he read the name of the sender.  “It’s Wystan.  I haven’t heard from him all summer.  I was beginning to think he forgot me.”

Harry’s smile echoed Callidus’s.  “Really?  What does he have to say?”

Callidus broke upon the seal, and unfolded the letter.

Hello Callidus , it began in Wystan’s neat but pointy scrawl,

How has your summer hols been?  Knowing what I know of you, I can’t decide if your idea of a break would involve getting away from the potions lab, or spending more time in the potions lab.  I have a feeling that it’s probably the latter.  Do you even have access to a lab over the summers?  Because now I’m starting to imagine you deprived of your beloved lab, and it creates a sad, sad picture.  Maybe you’ll find a girlfriend, like me!  Go have yourself a summer fling.  Calypso says ‘hi.’  We’re doing well, by the way.  Slowly and steadily, she’s succumbing to my irresistible charms.  Here, the handwriting seemed to change into a loopy, rounded small text that said: Ha!  Yeah right.  He wishes.  Don’t ever ask him for relationship advice, Callidus!

The writing changed back to the pointy scrawl. See?  Tight as ever.  Anyhow, things have been pretty busy with me.  I started up that advocacy group I was telling you about.  We (myself and the other organizers) decided to call it FLAME, which stands for ‘Freedom to Learn: Association of Magical Encompassment.’  I admit, it’s a bit unwieldy, but believe me, our other ideas were much more awkward.  Don’t even ask.  We’ll be focusing on gaining awareness for types of magic that have been swept under the rug, due to the label of being Dark.  We have quite a number of supporters and backers, so we’ll also be funding our own research too.

I’ve been speaking to some of my friends (and yes, Callidus, they are my friends, not just a bunch of people I collect,) and they’ll be starting up a club at Hogwarts called ARMED (Association of Rare Magic Education & Development.)  You’re going to join right?  Of course you are.  You could never resist knowledge, could you?  Some of my friends will be donating books and grimoires to the cause.  You’ll have to speak to Euphemia Rowle about it.  She’ll know more.  You could speak to Gabriel Truman as well, but Slytherins tend to have certain, better connections, if you know what I mean.

Let me know if you happen to make any new and interesting discoveries.  Actually, let me know if there’s any new and interesting things happening at Hogwarts too!   The handwriting changed again to that rounded script. He means juicy gossip!  He’s such a hen!  

The handwriting returned to the pointy scrawl.   Hope to hear from you soon.

Your friend,

Wystan Overcliff (and in case you can’t tell, Calypso contributed too!)

Callidus’s feeling were mixed as he read the letter.  He enjoyed hearing from Wystan, and was amused by Calypso’s comments.  On the other hand, he was fairly certain that Calypso was the person who had been attacking him in first year.  True, she didn’t hurt him in the end, and true, he couldn’t exactly fully remember that last encounter.  He simply couldn’t like Calypso wholeheartedly.  And yet, he wanted Wystan to be happy.

Callidus handed the letter over to Harry to read.  When Harry finished the letter, he looked amused but thoughtful.

 “So, we’re going to be joining this new club?” Harry asked.

 “I suppose so.  It sounds interesting.”

Harry hummed.  “I just realized that with Wystan gone, we don’t have anyone to head up the Slytherin faction of the duelling club.  Do you think Flitwick will continue it this year?”

Callidus shrugged.  “I don’t see why not.  Either way, I think there would be a lot of advantages to joining ARMED, as Wystan calls it.  Hogwarts’ library is impressive, but it is lacking in certain areas.”

A look of mischief appeared on Harry’s face.  “This could be what we need to gain an edge over the Weasleys.  I say we should join!”

Callidus smirked.  “Glad we agree.”

Chapter Text

The first of September soon arrived, and Callidus and Harry were being dropped off at King’s Cross Station to join their friends on the Hogwarts Express.

 “I can’t believe that we were taken all the way to London just so we could take the train to back to Hogwarts,” Harry moaned.  “We were already there!  What’s the point?”

 “I believe that it’s so that people like Draco won’t have an aneurysm when he sees that we’re not on the train.”

 “Draco already knows that we’re at Hogwarts,” Harry pointed out.

 “Yes, but just think of how lonely he’d be without us.”

A chortle escaped Harry’s lips.  He was no doubt imagining Draco in a compartment, all alone with some sort of pitiful little pout on his pale face and watery eyes.  Of course, in no universe would this ever happen.  Draco was too rich, and his family name too well, for him to ever have to suffer being alienated and isolated from his peers.  

With an expression somewhere between resignation and amusement, Harry said: “Come on, let’s find Draco before he expires from loneliness.”

They walked through the length of the train, checking the compartments until they found Draco, crammed in with most of the other first year Slytherins.

 “All right!” Draco declared.  “They’re here.  Everyone, Out!”

 “But Draaaky!” Parkinson pouted.

 “OUT!”

Parkinson clutched onto Harry’s arm.  “You want me here, don’t you Harry?”  She looked up at him with wide, puppy-dog eyes.

Callidus snorted  “I don’t think anyone’s falling for that, Pans .  We’ve all seen the real you.”

 “Oh shush, Cal !  You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without me.  Harry?”  Parkinson somehow managed to make her eyes even bigger and more soulful.

 “I - Draco, just look at her!  I can’t say no!” Harry cried.  “Besides, she gives really good scalp massages.”

Parkinson smiled smugly.  “I do, don’t I?”

Callidus rolled his eyes, and plopped down on an empty seat in the compartment.  “Frankly Draco, between her ability to manipulate Harry, and your ability to manipulate Harry, I think Parkinson has you beat.”

 “I’m not being manipulated,”  Harry interjected, to which, Callidus arched his eyebrow.  “Okay, fine, maybe I am.  But I like scalp massages!  It’s a win-win situation.”

Draco stubbornly crossed his arms.  “In what way am I winning?”

 “You win by being a good sport,” Parkinson quipped.  “Blaise!  Where are you?”

Draco was muttering: “But I don’t want to be a good sport,” when Zabini peeked into the compartment.  

 “Managed to bully your way into staying, Pansy?” Zabini asked.

 “Charmed, Blaise.  I charmed my way in,” Parkinson corrected.

Zabini smiled indulgently.  “Ah, of course Pansy.  I must have misspoke.”

Once everyone was settled in the compartment, Callidus pulled out a book while the others gossiped (or more accurately, Parkinson shared gossip to a mostly interested crowd.)  At some point, Draco brought out a travelling wizarding chessboard, and they ended up playing a two versus two game, which only served to stress out and aggravate the chess pieces, who didn’t know who they should be listening to.  Callidus did not pay too much interest to his surroundings until heard Parkinson mention the word ARMED.

Callidus lowered his book.  “What do you know of ARMED?”

 “Oh?  Were you listening in this whole time, Cal ?  And here I thought you’d have no interest in society.”

Callidus just raised his eyebrow, unwilling to dignify the gibe with an answer.  Parkinson rolled her eyes.  “I was just saying that Euphemia Rowle, who’s one of the Heads of the club, is a two-faced hag.  Oh, she has the perfect pureblood manners, and can act all sweet in front of anyone important enough, but if she thinks you’re beneath her, she’s a vicious viper.”

 “I’ve never seen seen Euphemia Rowle being anything other than polite,” Draco reflected.

 “That doesn’t argue my point.  Besides, Euphie -” (there was a touch of venom when Parkinson used the epitaph) “- has only ever been polite to me.  But I have eyes, you know.  People seem to forget that I see things.  She was horrid to Millie.”

 “But Millie’s so nice!” Harry put forward.

 “The nicest there is,” Parkinson agreed.  “Well, aside from you, Harry.  The point is, I don’t know if I’d want to join a club run by Euphemia.  I think she sees it as some sort of power grab.  She’s greedy and petty and she’s always putting on such airs .  I don’t know what Wystan was thinking, allowing her to be in charge.”

 “Not everyone is as observant as you, Pansy” Zabini pointed.  “Like Draco, I’ve never seen Euphemia Rowle behaving uncivilly.  But -” he raised his hands defensively, warding off Parkinson’s protests, “- that said, I trust you Pansy.  If you say that she’s two-faced, she probably is.”

 “She is two-faced!” Parkinson emphasized.  “I’d sooner trust old Sluggy to guard a stash of candied pineapples when his blood sugar is low, than I’d trust Euphie .”

Callidus and Harry shared a speaking look.  Both of them had planned on joining ARMED, but Parkinson’s words were not making them feel optimistic.  Parkinson herself could be pretty nasty and acid-tongued to people she didn’t like.  If Parkinson thought that Euphemia Rowle was an bad person, that wasn’t a good sign.  

Since Parkinson knew little else about Euphemia Rowle, the topic soon moved onto something else and Callidus stopped paying attention.  He tried to return to reading his book, but he found himself thinking about the possibly two-faced Euphemia Rowle.  For some reason, it made him think of Harry.  Harry wasn’t at all two-faced (as far as Callidus was concerned), and yet, there was something going on that made him feel uneasy.

After that initial night at Hogwarts, Harry had had a few more nights of moaning and thrashing about.  Callidus hadn’t made a move to wake him, and the moaning always stopped on its own.  However, one time, when it seemed worse than usual, Callidus had climbed out of bed, debating whether or not to disrupt Harry.  He had stood by Harry’s bedside, his wand lit, like last time, wondering if his behaviour might somehow be creepy, as though he were some sort of dungeon bat swooping in in the night or something, which only made him feel worse about the whole thing.  Harry’s sleeping expression looked almost angry, and Callidus could imagine the raven-haired boy’s look of scorn if he tried to wake him.  He had reached forward, and at that moment, his eyes fell upon the cord of Harry’s dragon-tooth necklace.  Unsure of what was driving him, he focused on magical sensitivity, and that strangely hostile feeling of cold waves beneath his skin returned, almost as strong as the first time he was ever aware of it.

It had left Callidus feeling nauseous, and he had recoiled away, wanting nothing more than to crawl into his own bed and forget about the whole night.  Somehow, he managed to stand firm.  A few minutes later, the line between Harry’s brow had smoothed away and his expression became more peaceful.  Tentatively, Callidus used his magical sensing again, and while the feeling of cold waves persisted, it was much weaker now.

Callidus wasn’t sure of what to make of it.  Unwilling to leave the matter to himself (because that wouldn’t have solved anything), he had mentioned it to Harry.  But Harry was convinced that Callidus was just sensing the protective magic from the pendant, and nothing could convince him that the problem might be more insidious.  Harry did not want to discuss the issue, even when Callidus tried to pass it off as intellectual curiosity.  Instead, Harry became more focused on discovering Hogwarts’ secrets than ever.  He seemed to believe there was some sort of important place that was his to claim.  In the end, Callidus dropped the matter.  He scoured Hogwarts’ library for more information about enchantments, but in the end, he came up with nothing.  

The sky was beginning to darken, and the Slytherins could hear increased activity outside of their compartment as the train drew near to Hogwarts.

 “First years,” Parkinson said in a bored and affected manner, as if they hadn’t just been first years last year.  She was still a little too young to effectively pull off ‘sophisticated-cynicism,’ but Callidus couldn’t help but have the premonition that in a few years, her words would cause the devastation of fragile egos everywhere, with each casually dropped syllable.  He was suddenly glad that Parkinson was on their side.

The train pulled to a stop, and as the Slytherins made their way to the platform, Callidus caught sight of Caiside, who had spotted him at the same time.  He arched his eyebrow at her, and she raised her eyebrows in turn, which caused him to snort with amusement.  He was curious to see what house she would get sorted in.  He knew that the Filodoxos wanted her to be in Slytherin, where she could make ‘proper connections,’ but he had a feeling that Caiside’s sorting would be a surprise, of the best sort.  Callidus also caught sight of a familiar red-headed girl, who was looking at an oblivious Harry with a mix of longing and admiration.

He heard Hagrid calling for the first years, and the trio waved to the half-giant, who flashed them a smile and waved back before leading the first years away.

 “I can’t wait to see how big Norberta’s grown,” Draco commented, as they walked along the mud track towards the stagecoaches that would take them to Hogwarts.  “D’you think she’d still recognize me?  I spent a lot of time with her last spring, and I helped to feed her a few times.  I bet she’ll still remember me.  Don’t you think she might?  Dragons are intelligent creatures.  She’ll probably remember me.”  Somehow, the novelty of Hagrid’s dragon still hadn’t worn off for Draco, and it had created an odd, but endearing bond between Draco and the Hogwarts gamekeeper.  In fact, the new dragon, complete with its specially created magical enclosure was a subject of great interest for all the students.  

The Slytherins climbed into the coaches, which Callidus knew was pulled by the invisible thestrals.  He learned that it was much more comfortable riding in a coach (even if it smelled faintly like mold and straw), than riding on a thestral’s back, even if he had to listen to Draco complaining about it the whole time.  They passed through a beautifully ornate wrought-iron gate between a pair of columns topped with winged boars, and were pulled up a long drive, taking them closer and closer to the imposing castle.

Though Callidus and Harry had been in the castle just this morning, seeing it again still filled them with a renewed sense of awe.  Perhaps it was due to the presence of the other students around them.  Somehow, it just felt more magical .  They entered through the oak doors into the entrance hall which was brightly lit with torches.  Following the mass of students, they turned to the door on the right, leading into the Great Hall, and made their way to the Slytherin table.  It felt strange, to be leaving a space at the end of the table for the new first years.  It was as though they were somehow more of a part of Hogwarts than ever.

The first years emerged through a side door, most of them with their heads craned up to the magnificent enchanted ceiling and its multitude of floating candles.  McGonagall brought out the stool and the hat, and they all sat and listened to its song about the different houses.

 “Look at them, they look scared,” Draco snickered.  

 “It kind of was scary,” Harry recalled.  Callidus didn’t think it had been that bad.  But then again, he didn’t have the whole Hall bursting out in whispers when his name was spoken.  Briefly, he wondered what the school had thought about Harry’s sorting into Slytherin.  Would Harry have been more popular if he had ended up in one of the other Houses?  Being in Slytherin meant that to some degree, he would have been ostracised by the other Houses, but on the other hand, it insulated him as well.

Callidus paid little heed to the sorting, giving a desultory sort of applause anytime a first year was sorted into Slytherin.  He did not sit up until he heard ‘Filodoxos, Caiside!’ being called by McGonagall.  The curly-haired girl stepped up to the stool, managing to hide any trepidation she might have felt.  He had a feeling she would do well in Slytherin.

The hat seemed to be taking a while, and as it twisted this way and that on her head, a familiar smug smile spread across Caiside’s face, and Callidus leaned forward without being aware that he had done so.  What was it going to be?  Ravenclaw perhaps?  She was pretty bookish (at least when she wasn’t busy with her garden.)  Or Hufflepuff?  Ha.  That would have been good. With a Head of House as the Herbology professor, she would have fit right in.  Or, could it be Gryffindor?  Madam Filodoxos would have an apoplectic fit if she ended up in Gryffindor.  

If Callidus hadn’t befriended Hermione, he might have felt a stronger disdain towards the House of lions, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but think that it would somehow be fitting (and so very amusing) if Caiside ended up in Gryffindor.

 “GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouted, and Callidus sat back, exclaiming: “Ha!” which caused the now second-year Slytherins to give him odd looks.

 “Is that the girl you were staying with over the summer?” Harry queried.  

Callidus smirked.  “Yes.  Her parents are going to kill her.  Well, her mother at least. Death by verbal evisceration.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, bemused.  “You’re happy about that?  I thought you said she wasn’t so bad?”

 “Caiside’s all right.  I imagine she’s pleased with herself.”  When Callidus glanced over towards the Gryffindor the table, Caiside still appeared to be wearing her self-satisfied smile, and she had been greeted by the typical boisterous cheers of the lions.  For a moment, Callidus wondered if Caiside would end up befriending Hermione, before he internally cringed at his thoughts.  ‘I’m not some sort of - friend matchmaker,’ he thought.  Who they befriended was their business, and there was no way that he would meddle like some sort of busybody hen.

Callidus didn’t think that the rest of the sorting would be of interest.  He didn’t recognize most of the names, except for a few familiar sounding well-known surnames.  But when Professor McGonagall reached the last name on the list, “Weasley, Ginevra!” he was caught by surprise.

Callidus was sure that like the rest of the Weasleys, Ginny Weasley would instantly be sorted into Gryffindor.  But then, the silence stretched on and on.  He could see Ginny Weasley peeking glances towards the Slytherin table, obviously seeking out Harry with her eyes.  It couldn’t be that the hat was thinking about putting her in Slytherin, was it?  The idea was preposterous!

Finally, after an interminable amount of time, the hat shouted: “GRYFFINDOR!” and everyone sat back with relief that the sorting was finally over.

Before the feast could begin, Professor Dumbledore was on his feet, about to make his welcoming speech.  Callidus wondered if it would be as ridiculous as the previous year’s.  He and Harry hadn’t seen much of the old headmaster over the summer.  Callidus had only sat down with Dumbledore once, and when Callidus has asked what the headmaster was doing, he mentioned he was researching the reasons that Voldemort’s spirit was tied down to this world so he could eliminate him for good, and he was also busy with the Wizengamot, trying to assure that the members did not lose their heads over their ‘irrational antagonism’ toward muggles and muggleborns.  In other words, Dumbledore had been caught up in politics.

Callidus did not dislike the man.  He was sure that the care and concern that he saw in Professor Dumbledore’s eyes was genuine.  It was just that he was also increasingly sure that his values differed from the old man’s.  While Callidus might respect muggleborns as much as Dumbledore did, that did not mean that he wanted to absorb muggle culture.  And while Dumbledore condemned the Dark Arts, Callidus believed that witches and wizards should be free to explore and perform whatever magic they might choose to perform.  It seemed foolish and over-zealous to assume that all of the Dark Arts were harmful.  True, most of the Dark Arts involved someone or something getting hurt, but in many cases, the sacrifice might be willing (such as if someone willingly used their own blood in a ritual.)

That said, Callidus wasn’t about to jump to the other end of the spectrum and embrace the ideals of someone like Lucius Malfoy either.  He didn’t think that purebloods were superior to muggleborns and half-bloods like himself.  If anything, Callidus thought that Wystan’s path was the best.  He wanted to seek knowledge, wherever it might lead (and especially if it led to prestige and power.)  It was a middle path.

 “Welcome!” Dumbledore’s voice pulled Callidus from his thoughts.  “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!  As you dig into your feast, here are a few things to keep in mind: Yum!  Delicious! The roast is dry!  Blergh!  I jest, I jest, the roast is never dry.”

Callidus groaned.  Was that supposed to be funny?  He could practically hear Draco rolling his eyes, while Harry snorted with amusement.  At least the food had finally magically appeared on their plates.

Soon, everyone was sated and sedated due to too much food and pudding, and Dumbledore was standing up again to make school announcements.  Harry and Draco seemed especially keen to hear about Quidditch try-outs, and this year, there was no mention about any fatally dangerous corridors, third-floor or otherwise.

 “I am also pleased to welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lockhart,” Dumbledore continued to announce.

Callidus hadn’t given much thought to the new professor.  After the trio had concluded that the man hardly qualified as a credible teacher, they had lost their curiosity.  Besides, every single one of Lockhart’s ridiculous books included a huge photo of himself, so they already knew what he looked like and dressed like.  The man made peacocks look as modest and dull as particularly uptight nuns compensating for major guilt complexes.

At the moment, Lockhart had stood up, and was flashing his blindingly white smile.  He had wavy golden hair that would make any goblin start to feel covetous, and blue eyes that he probably used like a weapon against the hearts of romantically-susceptible women.  In fact, quite a number of the girls in the Great Hall appeared to be collectively sighing as they gazed upon Lockhart’s smiling face.  Even sharp-natured Parkinson was looking a bit dazed, and as for Millicent Bulstrode -

 “There’s a face that makes me not want to punch it,” Bulstrode was saying, which was really the highest sort of compliments, coming from her.

 “He’s dreamy,” Daphne Greengrass murmured breathily.  “Do you think he offers any one-on-one tutoring sessions?”

Callidus cringed, but refrained from comment, not wanting to rekindle his antagonistic relationship with Greengrass on their first day back.  He really did not want to know what went on in the mind of girls.  Finally, Dumbledore announced that it was time for bed, which came as an immense relief because Callidus did not think he could endure another moment of listening to the girls debating the length of Lockhart’s eyelashes.  He had fully convinced himself that there was no way that girls could be human.  They had to be an alien species.  That was the only logical reason for why anyone would think that the length of anyone’s eyelashes would qualify as a subject of serious conversation.

The Slytherins followed their prefects down to the dungeons, and while Callidus had liked the chambers he shared with Harry over the summer, the dungeons felt more like home.  They entered their common room (the password was ‘ meraclus’ ), listened to Professor Slughorn give a rambling welcome speech about connections and potential, and then crawled into their Slytherin-green beds, bellies full of food, and hearts full of optimism for the upcoming year.

Chapter Text

The following morning, Callidus and Harry woke up feeling bright and refreshed for the day ahead.  Zabini and Nott acted as if nothing had changed since last spring.  However, Draco was listless, and there were dark circles under his eyes.  By the time Callidus and Harry were already changed and dressed, Draco had barely managed to brush his hair.

Callidus sidled up to the blond.  “Draco.”

 “What?” the blond snapped.

Callidus’s dark eyes gleamed with anticipation.  “You know how I supposedly owe you a favour for leaving you with that crowd of people on Harry’s birthday?”

Draco’s eyes narrowed into slits.  “What about it?”

Callidus’s lips curled into a wicked smile.  “Would it make us even if I agree not to spend all morning, making fun of you for missing your mummy?”

Draco’s cheeks flushed a vivid pink.  “Why you -” his hands scrambled into his pockets, searching out his wand so he could hex his friend, but he was too flustered to find it, and instead, opted to throw out a punch which Callidus narrowly managed to dodge, grinning all the while.

 “That’s just heartless, Cal,” Harry was saying reproachfully, but it was hard for Callidus to resist ribbing his friend/brother.  Besides, wasn’t that what brothers did?  He never had siblings, so he didn’t know for sure.

At least Draco’s anger had pulled him out of his listless, flat state, and the Slytherin second years made it up to the Great Hall for breakfast just in time to receive their class schedules from Professor Slughorn.  Callidus spent all of breakfast, trying not to lose his appetite as he was subjected to the girls’ fresh new speculations about Lockhart.  Only this time, they weren’t discussing his appearance, but how fascinating he was (as if that somehow made their interest in him that much more deeper and soulful.)  It was truly sickening.  Callidus was almost afraid that he may have been put off his kippers forever.

The Slytherins’ first class of the day was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.  She had assigned them to trying to transform a beetle into a button, and after a few attempts, Callidus was successfully able to do so.  However, the true star of the class that day turned out to be Harry.  Over the summer, once Harry successfully managed to turn a hard wooden chair into the squishiest sofa imaginable, he ended up being a little (actually a lot) enthusiastic about the potentials of Transfiguration.  By the time the end of August had arrived, Callidus was fairly certain that nothing in their chambers were what they originally were.  The desks were former chairs.  The blankets were former bedposts.  The rug was a former log from the fire.  The tapestries used to be sheets of parchment.  When something interested Harry, he certainly went all out.

Following Transfigurations was Charms, where most of the students spent the class asking Professor Flitwick whether or not the duelling club would be reinstated.  Mostly, Flitwick appeared to be rather flustered and giddy that his club had been so popular, and the already cheerful professor was as bubbly as a bottle of soda (that someone had energetically shaken.)

 “What’ve we got this afternoon?” Harry asked as the trio made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch.  Though Draco did not seem as melancholy as before, he was much quieter than usual, and Harry seemed to feel the need to fill in the gaps.

 “Herbology and then Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Callidus answered.  “I’m not feeling hopeful about Defence.”

Harry hummed.  “Maybe he could teach us how to protect ourselves from bad hair days.”

 “If that were the case, they could have just hired Draco and saved themselves the trouble.”

Draco rolled his eyes  “Ha, ha.  How witty of you to reuse the same tired jokes.  You certainly seem to like to reference my appearance an awful lot.  Hasn’t anyone ever taught you that envy isn’t a good look, Callidus?”

Callidus just smirked in reply.  He’d much rather deal with Draco’s quips and insults, than Draco’s moodiness.  As fun as it might be to make fun of the blond, Callidus didn’t want him to be genuinely miserable.  After they finished eating they were on their way out to the Quad to enjoy the late summer sun when the passed by Hermione, sitting alone in one of the courtyards, reading Lockhart’s Voyages with Vampires .  

 “Oh, Hi, Hermione!” Harry greeted brightly.  It was unusual to see Hermione outside of the library.  

Hermione looked up from her book, startled.  She had evidently been engrossed by whatever drivel Lockhart had written.  “Oh, hello Harry, Callidus, Draco.  I didn’t see you there.”

Callidus and Draco replied with polite nods, though Callidus’s smile was warm.

 “I was just re-reading Professor Lockhart’s book.  He’s amazing!” Hermione gushed.  “Callidus, have you read it yet?”

Callidus winced.  “Unfortunately, yes.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before Callidus could answer, they were interrupted by the appearance of a small boy with mousy hair that none of the trio recognized.  The boy was holding what looked to be a muggle camera, and he seemed to have no concept of other people’s personal space.  All eyes of the group turned to the small boy, and his face turned a bright red, but the boy’s attention was fixed solely on Harry.

 "All right, Harry? I'm - I'm Colin Creevey," the boy’s words were rather breathless. "I'm not in Slytherin like you are, so you might not’ve noticed me before. D'you think - would it be all right if - can I have a picture?" His expression was hopeful as he raised his camera.

 "A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.

 "So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead -" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "- and a lot of people seem to think that now that you’re a Slytherin, it means you’re a Dark Wizard, but I’ve been watching you and I don’t believe them.”

 “Hey -” Draco cut in, “just - stop right there.  Who are you?”

 “Colin Creevey.”

Draco narrowed his eyes.  “I mean Who are you.”

Creevey looked from face to face, confused. “Well, my dad’s a milkman, and neither of us knew about Hogwarts till I got the letter so -”

Draco interrupted him.  “I see.  And what makes you think you can just walk up to us and - what?  Demand a picture?  Don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

 “Draco -” Harry edged in warningly, but Draco lifted a hand to shut him up.

 “No, listen Harry.  You wanted me for your spokesperson, which is what I’m doing.  Do you think I’m going to let a little no-name snot just walk all over you, asking for your picture?  Next, he’s probably going to ask you to sign it, and then what?  Bring all his little snot-nosed friends?  Is that what you want, Harry?  Is it?”

 “Well - no,” Harry admitted, shuffling his feet.  

Callidus couldn’t help but feel a rush of admiration for Draco.  The blond had always seemed so self-absorbed, but it seemed that he cared about Harry’s interests after all.  Besides, Draco was right.  Harry was far too nice, and fame was a fickle mistress.  People might look up to Harry one moment, but they would be all too ready to turn against him in the next, and Callidus had the feeling that Harry would be too soft-hearted to be able to deal with that kind of thing.  On the other hand, who better to manage Harry’s fame than someone as insensitive as Draco?  It might seem harsh to crush people like Creevey, but it was probably necessary.

Creevey was looking increasingly nervous, and had even hidden his camera behind his back.  Draco seemed to have gathered his full arsenal of haughtiness, and he was now unleashing it on the hapless boy.  They had even appeared to have drawn a crowd.  Callidus caught sight of Caiside, and next to her, Ginny Weasley, who were watching the scene with interest.

 “Well?” Draco looked down at Creevey disdainfully.  But before Creevey could answer, a familiar voice called out: “What’s all this?  Did I hear something about pictures?”

The crowd parted, to reveal Gilderoy Lockhart.  The Defence Professor strode onto the scene, his vibrant-coloured robes billowing artfully in the breeze.

 “Oh ho!  What’s this?” Lockhart’s gazed fixed upon Harry, like a beagle who had caught wind of it’s prey.  “Why, if it isn’t Harry Potter!  I had heard that you’d be here at Hogwarts!  And you’re letting your photo be taken, are you?”  Lockhart made his way to Harry’s side, throwing an arm around the raven-haired boy’s shoulder.  Harry looked too stunned by this invasion of his space to protest.

 “Wait just a second,” Draco attempted to interject, but Lockhart completely ignored him, causing Draco to flush an angry shade of pink.

 “Who has the camera?” Lockhart scanned the milling crowd.  “Ah, Mr. Creevey!  A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you."

Creevey, who was still a little shaken by Draco’s demeanour, fumbled for his camera, but managed to snap a photo, just as the bell that indicated the end of their lunch break rang.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with a horrified-looking Harry trapped in the cage of his arm.

Callidus and Draco attempted to follow along through the corridor, and up a staircase, and they were able to hear snatches of Lockhart’s rather condescending sounding advice.  It was something about how Harry might come across as big-headed - as if Lockhart were one to talk!  Lockhart did not release Harry until they had reached his classroom, and by that point, Harry was red-faced and his expression was stormy.  Unfortunately, their next class was supposed to be Herbology, not Defence, so the trio had to double back and make their way down to the greenhouses.

 “What was that all about?” Draco demanded, as they ran across the lawn, hoping that they would not be too late.

 “I don’t know,” Harry replied, a bit breathlessly.  “But you know how I said I didn’t want to our pranks to target a single person, Cal?”

 “Yeah?  What about it?” Callidus asked between heavy breaths, as just as the greenhouse entrance came into sight.

 “Well, I’ve changed my mind,” Harry explained, his eyes unusually hard and cold.  “Lockhart.  We’re going to take him down .”

Callidus and Draco shared a look over Harry’s shoulders.  Lockhart was going to be the new target for their pranks?  They broke into matching grins.  This was going to be awesome.

The trio ended up being a few minutes late for Herbology, but Professor Sprout had always been an extremely forgiving teacher, so they did not lose any points.  Their class was shared with the Ravenclaws, and they learned that they would be repotting mandrake roots.  Though the trio had hoped to be able to spend the class plotting how they would prank Lockhart, mandrake roots had a fatal ‘cry’ which meant that that they spent the class in earmuffs.

Finally, Herbology was over, and their final class of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts.

 “So what are we going to do to Lockhart?” Draco asked as the trio walked from the greenhouses towards Lockhart’s classroom.

 “We already know a decent amount of spells,” Harry mused. “Pimple hexes, hair-colour changing spells, flatulence hexes, voice changing spells.  What would be the most humiliating?”

 “How are we even going to hex him in the first place?” Callidus wondered.  “Without getting caught, that is.”

 “We’ll figure something out,” Harry answered coldly.  “I just want him to suffer.”

Though the whole concept was amusing, something about Harry’s words sent a shiver down Callidus’s spine.  He looked over at his friend, and for some reason, he thought about those odd nights when Harry would moan and thrash in his sleep, wearing an angry expression on his face.  If he used his magical sensing now, would he feel that strange, hostile sensation?  Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a way to use his powers in a way that would look subtle, rather than blatantly weird and obvious.

They arrived at the Defence classroom and chose to sit somewhere near the back of the class so that they could more easily plot against Lockhart.  Curiously enough, Lockhart was looking rather breathless and ruffled, and his wavy hair was slightly mussed.

Lockhart began to introduce himself, sounding a little uncertain, but as he progressed, he became increasingly confident, until he was rattling off a list of all his accomplishments without a trace of irony.  By the time he was finished his speech, his chest was puffed out and he was beaming broadly, acting as though it had been the class giving him accolades as opposed to being aware of the braggart that he was.  How had the man ever managed to be awarded an Order of Merlin?

 “I’m pleased to see that you’ve all purchased the complete set of my books,” Lockhart continued.  “Now just like with all my other classes, I’m going to be starting you off with a little quiz.  No pressure of course!  But it’s important to see how much your bright little minds have absorbed - how much you’ve taken in.”

Lockhart began to hand out the quizzes, and as the trio looked down the list of questions, they were shocked to see that they were all personal questions related to Lockhart himself.  In retrospect, they really shouldn’t have been shocked at all.  They shared impish glances as they simultaneously decided to write answers that would be as humiliating as possible.

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?

Harry wrote: To stop wetting his bed at night

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

Callidus wrote: That he can fool people into thinking he has any braincells to rub together, so long as he keeps his mouth shut

8. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favourite past time?

Draco wrote: Seducing himself in front of the mirror

34. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favourite food?

Callidus wrote: Insincere compliments.  It would be unrealistic to expect sincere ones.

Callidus knew that he and his friends/brothers were risking detention with their juvenile actions, but he decided that it would be worth it.  Gilderoy Lockhart was obviously a joke.  Why should Callidus bother to take him seriously?  Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the quizzes and was reading them over.  The trio smirked when a few of the quizzes caused Lockhart to flush with embarrassment.  Amusingly, Lockhart did not call them out for their actions.

 “I’m rather disappointed by the performance on your quizzes,” Lockhart said, sounding a bit shaken.  “In Gryffindor, a Hermione Granger managed to receive a hundred percent on her quiz.  That said, Daphne Greengrass, well done on receiving the highest mark in your class.”

Upon seeing Greengrass’s pleased smile and her gratitude for his attention, Lockhart’s confidence once again increased.  Callidus gave the professor an incredulous look.  The man must have had the emotional fortitude of a troll - no matter how many barbs one tried to fling at him, they just bounced off his tough skin.

Lockhart proceeded to bring the class’s attention to a large covered cage on his desk.

 “Now, in my previous class, I had the class face a challenge that was nearly too much for them to bear.  I was debating letting your class off easy - after all, if the brave Gryffindors couldn’t handle the challenge, what hope would there be for any of the other classes?”  Lockhart’s words were surprisingly inflammatory.  Callidus could not tell if it was intentional or not, but to claim that the Slytherins were somehow less capable of handling a challenge than Gryffindors immediately caused the hackles of the Slytherins to rise.

Apparently oblivious, Lockhart continued to explain.  “But then, I reminded myself that that I am here to teach you to protect yourself against the greatest of dangers, and the foulest of creatures.  It is my sworn duty as a professor to bring you face to face with the deepest of your fears, knowing that only I can give you the strength and skills to face the Darkest of your nightmares.  Rest assured that so long as I am here, I shan’t let any harm befall you.  There’s no need to panic - not while I’m here to protect you.”

Callidus raised his eyebrows at the speech.  A number of the girls were looking a bit nervous, except for Bulstrode, whose eyes gleamed with an inner fire that spoke of a readiness for battle.  Draco looked as though he was growing curious against his will, while Zabini looked bored, and Nott was preoccupied with reading the textbook and disregarding everything around him.

 “Now is your chance to prove yourself better than the Gryffindors,” Lockhart announced.  “Try and resist the urge to cry out or scream, lest you provoke them.  Look boldly now upon the face of your opponents!”

Lockhart dramatically pulled the cover off of the cage, just as he declared: “Cornish pixies!”  The result was anti-climactic.  

 “Pixies?!” Greengrass screeched, eyeing the electric blue creatures and suddenly worrying that they would get in her hair.  “What are we supposed to do with them?”

 “Well, you just have to prove yourself as proficient as the students in the last class!” Lockhart answered cheerfully.  A few of the students asked more questions.

Meanwhile the trio shared a look.  They ducked their heads together and began to whisper.

 “If he lets those things free, it might give us the perfect chance,” Harry mused.

 “We can aim our hexes at him while pretending to hit the pixies,” Draco suggested.  “Though what he was thinking, bringing pixies in, I’ll never begin to guess.  They may be small, but they’re destructive and fast .”

Callidus smirked.  “The more chaos, the better.”

The trio looked back up towards Lockhart, just as he opened the cage door.  Though the Cornish pixies had been released and caught by the Gryffindors earlier, they had as much wild energy as ever, and within seconds, the class was in complete disarray.   The pixies were smashing windows, and throwing papers and quills across the room, and tearing up books, and working together to up-end chairs and desks.  

While the other second year Slytherins frantically shot spells at the pixies, the trio aimed for Lockhart.

A beam of light caused his golden blond hair to vanish, leaving a shiny bald scalp, and causing Lockhart to yelp.  Another bright beam resulted in the most enormous pimple imaginable, appearing right on the tip of his nose.  A final darker light seemed to have no effect, but Callidus smiled a wicked smile.  The result of that spell might not show up right away, but it was just a matter of time.

Lockhart was exclaiming: “Get the pixies, not me!  Oh Merlin, my hair!  I can’t be seen like this.”  He did not even bother to give the class further instruction - he simply dashed out of the room, with his hands desperately covering his head.

With Lockhart’s absence, the class was thrown into further chaos.  Lockhart hadn’t given them instructions about what to do, and it wasn’t in any Slytherin’s nature to clean up another person’s mess unless they could get something out of it.  So, all the Slytherins quickly gathered up belongings, and fled the room, unconcerned with the chaos and damaged caused by the pixies.  Let someone else deal with the problem.

Outside of the classroom, the trio were all wearing matching grins spread from ear to ear.  

 “That was awesome!” Harry burst out, his expression a mix of triumph and righteous revenge.

 “I can’t believe it all worked out so perfectly,” Draco added.  “Think he’ll be able to show his face ever again?

 “He wouldn’t skip teaching classes, would he?” Harry pondered.

Callidus considered the professor’s character thoughtfully.  “Somehow, I get the impression that he values his ego and appearance far above our education.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed.  “I wouldn’t complain if we never had to see him again.  Considering that he dared to -” Harry expression had darkened considerably.  “Anyhow, maybe we’d be doing the school a favour by getting rid of him.”

Draco looked intrigued, but Callidus gave Harry a questioning look.  Since when was Harry so vindictive?  It was a bit unnerving.  But he would hardly complain if Lockhart was gone.

Callidus raised his eyebrow.  “So we’re going to continue our campaign of pranks against him?”

Harry smiled cruelly and Callidus shivered.  “He won’t get a moment’s rest.  Not if I can help it.”

Chapter Text

If Callidus had thought that this new, darker streak of Harry’s would carry into all aspects of their life at Hogwarts, Callidus was wrong.  The following day, Harry seemed to be his normal self, without any trace of true malice or cruelty in his words or actions.  But then again, they didn’t have a class with Lockhart that day.

Draco’s homesickness was a little less sharp, and the blond had resumed his typical chattiness.  Since they had spent most of August apart, Draco had wanted to contribute his own prank ideas, aside from the terror that they were planning to rain upon Lockhart’s head.  As the trio made their way upstairs to breakfast, Harry had mentioned his idea to create prank items, such as the friendly-bomb, that would immediately make anyone in its vicinity act friendly.

Draco’s expression was perplexed  “What would be funny about that?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno.  It might be useful.  What if we’re facing someone who’s really angry?  Or someone like Quirrell who was trying to kill us last year?”

 “But that doesn’t exactly make it a prank then, does it?  More like just a self-defence item, and not necessarily an effective one at that.  If we’re going to make these so-called gaseous bombs, then they should really do something more .  Something powerful.”  Draco’s face lit up with an idea.  “What about a bomb that makes people feel afraid?  Could you imagine?  We could turn those so-called courageous lions into pant-pissing cowards.”

Harry looked doubtful.  “Erm - that seems a bit - harsh, don’t you think?”

 “Or maybe, we could make a bomb that turns people’s bones into a jelly.” Draco’s enthusiasm only seemed to be increasing.  “Ha!  Just imagine them wiggling about like flobberworms.”

 “That - erm - wouldn’t that be - maybe - harmful or illegal?”

 “Or a bomb that makes people spill their deepest, darkest secrets!,” Draco continued.  “We would have so much blackmail material!  Think of how many people we could humiliate!  And if it’s a bomb, people wouldn’t see it coming!”

 “Okay, Draco, I’m pretty sure that would be illegal.”

 “These ideas are all still theoretical anyway,” Callidus cut in.  “We don’t even know if potions can be administered through inhalation.”

 “Well then you need to get working on it!” Draco insisted.

Callidus rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to answer.  They had reached the Great Hall, and it wasn’t the sort of topic that he wanted to discuss in front of other students.

Most of the girls were already seated, and to Callidus’s relief, they were finally discussing matters other than Lockhart.  Callidus had never been so grateful to hear about who had been having summer romances with who at the breakfast table (“and can you believe that Jhanvi Bhati managed get away with dating two boys at once?  They found out about one another at an Avery garden party, and in the ensuing fight, one of them got turned into a opossum while the other had their limbs replaced with asparagus.  And since then, they’ve both been writing her the most appalling poetry, trying to win her heart.  I think she tried to rejected them both but they won’t leave her alone.  I heard she’s been having nightmares about iambic pentameter and poorly thought out metaphors.”)

For the most part, Callidus tuned out the gossip, focusing on his bacon and toast instead.  By the time everyone knew about a piece of information, it was often useless, although it could be interesting to learn about who was being ostracised and whose popularity was on the rise.  But these were matters of power dynamics, and it was important for every Slytherin to be aware of them.

 “I heard the Hufflepuffs talking about this, and who knows if they can be trusted with valid gossip, but apparently Professor Lockhart is having a bit of a spider problem,” Parkinson remarked.

 “Eww!” Greengrass squealed.  “That’s horrible!  Tell me it isn’t true!”

 “I’d squish the spiders for him, if he was having a problem,” Bulstrode declared.  “Every last one.”

Callidus did his best to keep his expression neutral, but inside, he was smiling.  The spell he had cast at Lockhart yesterday had been effective, it seemed.  All the spiders in Hogwarts should be finding themselves inexplicably drawn towards the Defence Professor.  Hopefully Lockhart did not have arachnophobia (Callidus thought this rather insincerely.)  The girls only had a short moment to share their dismay over Lockhart’s plight before it was time to make their way to their first class.

History of Magic was exactly what they expected: mind-numbingly boring.  Callidus knew that Hermione stayed awake and took notes during Professor Binns’ soporific lectures, and he could not help but respect her for it.  Draco was already asleep, a thin line of drool slowly pooling on the sleeve of his robes where his head rested.  Harry’s head kept tipping to the side, before he’d jerk himself straight up, only to have his head slowly tip back down.  Callidus had chosen to focus on reading his textbook.  He cared a great deal about his academic performance, but had washed his hands of any hope that he’d excel in History.  The effort simply did not seem to be worth it.

The final class of the day was Potions with Professor Slughorn.  With Callidus’s already advanced understanding of potions, the class was, unsurprisingly, excessively easy.  He used most of the class time, to jot down notes for future potions ideas that he wished to explore, or helping Harry with anything that the other boy did not understand.  But Callidus had reasons for wanting to be in class this day.  He wished to speak to his Head of House about continuing his independent Potions study.

Callidus was strongly motivated to learn everything he could about potions - he wanted to gain his Potions Mastery after all (and it was his goal to gain that mastery at a younger age than he had managed the first time around.)  But there was another reason that Callidus wanted to be able to independently work on potions: he liked having access to his own lab.  Last term, Callidus had gained an excellent source of income by using his lab to make potions for the other Slytherins.  He had hoped that he would be able to continue his little enterprise this year.  It was simply too lucrative of an opportunity to resist.  But even without the underground potions business, he was still making money on the Poison-countermeasure Potion that he had patented the previous term.

When the class was finally over, and the students were tidying up the messes on their table and handing in their phials, Callidus informed Harry and Draco to go on ahead without him, since he needed to speak to Slughorn.

 “Callidus, m’boy!” Slughorn boomed jovially, his silver walrus-like whiskers twitching above his wide smile.  “How have you been?  What amazing new accomplishments can we expect from you this year?  Do you have another new potions in the works?  A hypothesis you plan to prove or disprove?  Exciting projects on the horizon?”

 “That’s what I wished to discuss with you today, sir,” Callidus informed him, forcing his lips into a friendly smile.

Slughorn’s gooseberry coloured eyes sparkled.  “Oh?”

 “I would like to continue the mentorship.”  Callidus’s voice was quiet and modest, in a way that he knew would stroke Slughorn’s ego.  The man’s desire to ‘cultivate’ connections and talented individuals made him far too easy to manipulate.  “As I am sure you know, I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish anything last year without you.  Having the lab at my disposal, and being able to pursue independent projects has enabled me to get as far as I have.  I was wondering -”

 “I can guess exactly what it is you’re wondering, m’boy,” Slughorn cut in, looking immensely pleased.  “And it would be my pleasure to continue mentoring such a brilliant mind as your own.”

 “Thank you, sir!” Callidus’s smile was genuine this time.  “Will you be assigning another student to oversee my activities?  I believe that I am responsible and careful enough to avoid any serious mishaps in the lab, however, I will defer to your judgement in this, since you would know best.”

 “Ah, I trust you Callidus,” Slughorn answered.  “A clever boy like you would never make an elementary mistake like adding porcupine quills when the cauldron is still on the fire, would you?”

Callidus felt almost offended.  “Naturally, not.”

Slughorn patted Callidus’s back in an overly friendly manner. “Then it seems we have come to an agreement.  You may use Potions Lab Nine again.  If ever you have need of me, please do come by my office on the sixth floor corridor.”

 “Of course, sir.”

 “So tell me,” Slughorn’s voice became conspiratorial as he leaned inwards.  “What projects do you have planned this year, hm?  Going to take the academic world by storm?”

 “Ah, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise sir,” Callidus hedged.  He might have had a lot of ideas, but having the idea wasn’t the same as being near a breakthrough.  While he had high hopes for himself, there was no need to get ahead of himself, or get Slughorn worked up.

Slughorn looked slightly disappointed.  “Of course, of course, m’boy.  I know how it is.”

Eventually, Callidus managed to peel himself away from Slughorn’s grip, before the old man started reliving his own glory days, or talking about his numerous acquaintances.  Callidus couldn’t help but think that maybe the man was a tad bit lonely, but Callidus wasn’t eager to fill the role of being Slughorn’s friend.

When Callidus returned to the Slytherin common room, the second-years were gathered in their usual spot.  Draco was sprawled out on the sofa, his legs resting on Parkinson’s lap.  Harry was sitting next to her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.  Zabini and Greengrass were situated across from them, and Nott was in one of the other chairs, engrossed in a book.  Davis and Bulstrode were sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing with Bulstrode’s cat.

 “Cal!” Harry called out.  “Finished with old Sluggy?  What did he say?”

Callidus let his lips quirk upwards.  “He has allowed me to continue my mentorship, and has granted me access to the same lab.”  Callidus did not speak loudly, but his words were loud enough that most students in the vicinity would have heard if they happened to be listening.  It was a way of letting everyone know that he was accepting commissions for his underground potions business.

 “Awesome!” Harry replied.  “Then we shall have many things to speak of later.”

It took an effort for Callidus not to roll his eyes.  He knew Harry was referring to their prank projects, but Harry’s attempts at subtlety were anything but.  Still, Callidus knew that the Slytherins would likely never betray their own to the rest of the school.

Over the summer, Callidus had already scoured the library, looking for books related to vapourizing or inhaling potions.  There was a notable absence of any useful information.  He only managed to find one or two historical references, mentioning that vapourizing potions was risky, and that managing dosages was unpredictable.  In one case, a potioneer had even ended up nearly dying when his vapourized potion caused him to fall asleep for days, while no one checked up on him.  As far as Callidus could tell, most Potions Masters of the past did not think that it was a worthwhile endeavour to pursue.  But beyond just pranks, Callidus was convinced that the idea had merit.

First, he’d have to figure out the best method to vapourize potions in the first place, without letting the effects of the magic alter the effects of the potion.  Then, he’d have to decide on a potion to inhale, that offered the lowest risk of dangerous overdosing.  Perhaps it might be best to experiment on rats rather than himself or his friends.

That evening, in the relative privacy of their dorm, the trio gathered on Harry’s bed to discuss their plans, now that Callidus had secured the lab for yet another year.  None of them had learned any particularly effective privacy spells, except for one that warned them with a loud noise if anyone was trying to listen in.  So, they kept their voices hushed as they spoke.

 “So we’re going to go ahead with this gas-bomb project?” Harry queried.

Callidus nodded.  “I’m going to attempt it, at least.  It really is unfortunate that there’s so little literature on the subject.  I suppose that if I can make headway on it, it will be advantageous to my academic reputation.  Something like this might even be worth publishing in a journal, if I succeed.”

 “Who cares about that!” Draco interjected unhelpfully.  “What matters is that we can get the prank to work.”

Callidus’s expression was incredulous.  “Yes, because a prank is so much more important than the magical advancement of our society.”

Draco did not seem to catch the sarcasm, and Callidus sighed.  “As of yet, we still do not know how viable this whole idea is,” Callidus continued to explain.  “Having the lab helps, but a great deal of research will need to be done.  I wouldn’t necessarily get your hopes up too high about this.”

Harry hummed.  “You know, I think I know of a book that might help you.”

Callidus glanced at Harry with surprise.  “Oh?”

Harry huffed.  “What’s with that look?  I read books, you know!  What?  I do!  Actually, it was a book I found when I was looking up spells to learn for pranking.  I’ll find it for you in the library tomorrow.  It was all about using different spells to change the state of matter - turning liquids into solids, or solids into gas, or gas into liquids - that kinda thing.”

 “Hm.  I don’t believe I’ve come across that particular book before.  It sounds extremely helpful.  Thank you Harry.”

Harry grinned.  “What are brothers for?  Besides, we can’t let you do all the work for our pranks.”

 “He doesn’t do all the work,” Draco sputtered.  “We’re the ones risking life and limb to actually apply the pranks.”

Harry raised his eyebrows.  “I don’t recall my limbs ever being at risk for a prank.  Or my life for that matter.”

 “Not with me to watch your back!” Draco defended.

Harry hummed, but then smiled knowingly.  “If you say so, Draco.”

Chapter Text

The trio soon fell into the the routine of school in the following days.  There were a couple of nights when Harry moaned and thrashed in his bed, but it wasn’t loud enough to wake the other Slytherins, and in the morning, Harry never acted particularly troubled.  He did sometimes furrow his brow in the mornings, and mutter something about needing to find a secret chamber, but then the matter would be soon forgotten amidst lessons, and friendship and tormenting and increasingly frazzled Professor Lockhart.

Before they knew it, Quidditch tryouts were upon them, and Harry and Draco were bundles of irrepressible excitement.  Though all the Slytherins knew that Marcus Flint was a sadistic slave-driver of a Quidditch captain, that did not make the younger students any less eager to try out for the team.  Draco seemed to vacillate between a state of eye-gougingly obnoxious bravado and ‘what if they somehow accidently don’t see what a good flyer I am’ mental breakdowns of self-doubt.  Meanwhile, Harry was sunny-natured, and was, as he put it: ‘just happy about the chance to fly around for a bit.’

Callidus did not particularly care either way.  On one hand, he did genuinely want the Slytherin team to do well, because frankly, they deserved to win the Quidditch Cup and House Cup every year, as far as he was concerned.  On the other hand, Draco would be intolerable if he did not get onto the team.  Callidus really hoped Draco would get onto the team.

On the day of the tryouts, Callidus found himself debating whether or not to go and watch.  He knew it would be the supportive thing to do for his friends.  But then again, he could go to the potions lab instead and try and make headway on vapourizing some Pepper-Up Potion.  The book that Harry had suggested to Callidus had proved to be a great help, but now it was just a matter of finding the right spell that would have a minimal impact on the magic of the potion.  In this regard, Callidus’s magical sensitivity abilities helped a great deal.

In the end, Callidus elected to go out to the Quidditch pitch to watch his friends try to get on the team.  He had heard that Marcus Flint had a talent making people cry, and what better form of entertainment could there be, than to watch a bunch of students getting their dreams of being Quidditch stars crushed?  There was nothing quite as invigourating as the utter humiliation of a bunch of starry-eyed imbeciles.

With a smile of anticipation tugging Callidus’s lips upwards, he followed Harry and Draco out to the Quidditch pitch, taking a seat on the nearby stands.  Before Flint had the students starting on drills, Callidus noticed that Draco had pulled the Quidditch captain aside, and was speaking to him in hushed tones.  Whatever Draco was saying, the blond did not look deferential or nervous.  If anything, Callidus almost thought that Draco was acting rather sly.  Did his friend/brother have something up his sleeve that he hadn’t mentioned earlier?  Flint’s expression was speculative as he looked down on Draco.  And was that a look of greed that Callidus saw in his eyes?  It was too bad Harry hadn’t been paying attention to the scene.  The raven-haired boy was already on one of the school brooms, doing reckless barrel-rolls without being prompted to.

The tryouts ended up being more or less what Callidus expected.  Flint seemed to go suspiciously easy on Draco, but Harry managed to fly well enough to impress the Slytherin Captain.  Flint also managed to make no less than five hopeful players cry, and one person even ended up breaking their arm when a bludger bashed into it.  Harry earned himself the position of seeker for the Slytherin team.  Meanwhile, Draco was made a chaser.  Both boys were in extremely high spirits, and Callidus had to spend the rest of the day subjected to the minutia of Quidditch maneuvers.

Callidus was happy for both of his friends’/brothers’ success, until the grueling Quidditch practice sessions started, and Callidus began to realize just how much of his friends’ time would be eaten up.  In first year, he had often felt as though Harry and Draco were close in a way that he wasn’t - especially since Draco was so selfish that he never hesitated to monopolize Harry’s time and attention.  Callidus had spent a great deal of time in the library or potions lab, in part because he enjoyed learning, but also, as a way to convince himself that he was just the solitary type and that it was no big deal to be separate from the other two boys.  Then, over time, their bond had gotten stronger, and he felt as though he were truly a part of the trio.  

But now, with Harry and Draco on the Quidditch team, the two boys once again had something bonding them closer together - something that Callidus wasn’t a part of.  Callidus hadn’t fully considered the implications of what it meant for him, with his friends/brothers on the Quidditch team.  Now that he was aware, he felt a rising jealousy within him, mingled with guilt for his selfishness.

What made it worse was that Harry and Draco appeared to be completely oblivious about the whole matter.  They had become even more engrossed with flying and Quidditch than ever, that they hardly noticed that they were excluding Callidus in their conversations.  After all, they still spent most of their free time together, so the external impression of unity still remained, even if Callidus was feeling as though he was being left behind, like a beetle that had befriended caterpillars only to see them transform into butterflies.

Callidus had tried to steer their conversation towards other topics numerous times.  But in the end, Harry and Draco seemed to gravitate back towards long and excruciatingly detailed Quidditch debates.  Their talks of various formations and maneuvers started to sound like a foreign language at some point, and Callidus started to retreat to his mind more and more, planning out potions in his head.

But Callidus was aware that Harry and Draco weren’t his only friends, even if they were his closest.  There was also Hermione as well.  Thinking of Hermione reminded him that he hadn’t been spending quite as much time in the library as last year, and he really needed to focus his efforts if he wanted to be able to match (and surpass) Hermione’s academic performance.  Since when had he started doing his homework and studying in the Slytherin dungeons instead of the library?  It would be nice to see the Gryffindor girl, and finally have a discussion that wasn’t in any way related to Quidditch.

It was an afternoon in which the Slytherin team would be busy with Quidditch practice, so after their final class of the day which was Transfigurations (in which Harry was proud to be the first to change his centipede into a necklace), Callidus picked up his book bag and made his way to the library.  He searched the various tables for a familiar head of bushy brown hair, and to his surprise, he saw that Hermione wasn’t alone.  She was sharing a table with two other familiar girls: Caiside and Ginny Weasley.

For a moment, Callidus wondered if he would be intruding.  He debated turning around, and returning to the dungeons, but then, Hermione happened to look up, and when she spotted him, she smiled and waved.  Feeling vaguely sheepish, Callidus ventured over to the table. At this point, Caiside and Ginny Weasley had seen him as well.  Caiside arched her eyebrows at him, an amused smile pulling at her lips, while Ginny Weasley wore an expression of open curiosity.

 “Hello Callidus!” Hermione welcomed brightly.  “Here to study?  You can sit with us.”

 “Hello Hermione, Caiside, Weasley.” Callidus sat in the open seat next to Hermione and across from Caiside.

 “You can call me Ginny,” the red-head chirped.  “It’d be rather odd to call me by my last name when you call Hermione and Caiside by their first, wouldn’t it.”

 “Callidus,” Caiside murmured, her expression almost sly.  “Hermione mentioned that you were friends, and I confess, I almost didn’t believe her, seeing as I’ve never really seen you associate with one another, aside from that rather - amusing encounter with poor Colin Creevey in the courtyard.”

 “You doubted Hermione’s word?  Since when has she ever spoken anything other than a true fact?” Callidus rejoined.

Caiside smirked.  “Yes, I’m learning that now.  I never realized until now, how refreshing straight-forward honesty could be.  Most other people are all too happy to deceive themselves.  Or others.”

 “Caiside was telling me about how you were staying with her over the summer,” Hermione informed him.

Callidus glanced from Hermione to Caiside.  “Was she now?”

 “Mm hmm.  It sounds like you had a lovely summer,” Hermione continued. “And you got to see Caiside’s garden.  She’s quite the herbologist - I’ve learned a lot!.”

Callidus smirked.  “Yes, I may have survived the garden of torture and death.”

 “Only thanks to my protection,” Caiside remarked cheekily.

 “Yes, it was a harrowing experience,” Callidus deadpanned.

 “You’re friends with Harry Potter,” Ginny interjected.

Callidus looked over at the red-head, startled by the sudden shift in the conversation.  “I am.”

 “Will you tell me about him?” Ginny asked, her light brown eyes bright and eager.

Callidus blinked, surprised by the girl’s forwardness.  Hadn’t she been the one to hide behind the displays at Gambol and Japes?  He had expected her to be extremely shy and reticent.  The girl before him didn’t look as if she had a trace of shyness - instead, she was leaning towards him, meeting his eyes easily and wearing a very expectant expression.

 “Don’t mind her.” Caiside made a casual brushing off gesture.  “All she ever wants to talk about is Harry.  She’s already found out all she could from Hermione and now she’s hoping to squeeze more information out of you.”

Ginny’s expression became mulish.  “Harry’s a hero.  Why wouldn’t I want to hear all about him?  Besides, no one ever expected him to end up in Slytherin.  It’s all so rom-” Ginny’s cheeks flamed when she realized that she had almost said too much.

Caiside’s expression became wry.  “She seems to think he’s some sort of tortured hero.  The dark and mysterious Slytherin Harry Potter.”

 “I don’t think anything of the sort!” Ginny protested.  “But there must be something more to him than meets the eye if he ended up in Slytherin.” She turned to Callidus.  “Is it true that he made the Slytherin Quidditch team?”

Callidus could feel a vein begin to pulse in his forehead.  “Say one word more about anything related to Quidditch, and I swear I’ll never tell you a single thing about Harry, and neither will anyone else,” he snapped.

Ginny’s eyes widened, and she blinked at him rather comically.  “Er - oh - kay.”

 “And yes, he made the team, and that’s all I’ll say about that,” Callidus added sharply.

 “So what brings you here?” Caiside queried.  “And without your two bosom buddies.”

Callidus gave Caiside a disbelieving look.  “Bosom.  Buddies.”

Caiside grinned wickedly.  “Isn’t that what they are?”

 “I’m still trying to process the fact that that phrase actually came out of your mouth.”

Somehow, Caiside’s grin widened even further.  “It’s a perfectly apt little phrase.”

 “And they are, aren’t they?” Hermione asked.  “Your -” Callidus was already cringing and he could hear Ginny’s muffled laughs. “- bosom buddies?”

 “They’re my friends,” he answered, glaring at Caiside.  “As for what I’m doing here, I imagine my reasons are the same as the rest of the populace.  I’m here to study and read.  Harry and Draco are at practice, since you seem so eager to want to know the reasons for my solitary status.  But since we don’t seem to have moved past pleasantries, tell me Caiside, how did your mother take the news of your sorting into Gryffindor?”

Caiside chortled.  “Oh Merlin!  I’m so glad you asked.  Every reminder of my mother’s abject chagrin makes my ‘unfilial and unnatural’ heart flutter with glee.”

Callidus raised his eyebrows, an amused smile quirking his lips upwards.  “That good?”

 “Better!” Caiside crowed.  “You should see the letters she wrote me!  I could tell that she wanted to write a howler, but she doesn’t like to air our ‘private business’ to others.  Which is a shame, really - I think I would have enjoyed the added piquancy of hearing the shock and dismay in her voice.”

 “How can you speak of your mother that way?” Hermione asked.

Caiside shrugged.  “You’d understand if you met her, ‘Mione.  Though to be honest, she probably wouldn’t speak to you.  I told you she’s a massive bigot.”

 “Still, she’s your mother,” Hermione pointed out.  “You could try and educate her so she has a better understanding of why her prejudices are so wrong.”

Caiside made a humming sound.  “You know what, ‘Mione?  If you ever meet her, I’ll leave that to you.  You’d be able to explain so much better than I ever could.”

 “Don’t do it, Hermione,” Callidus warned, wondering how Caiside could bait her own friends like that.  “Just - imagine the Malfoys.  And then take away all the subtlety.”

 “Callidus!” Caiside mock reproached.  “I thought you liked my mother!”

 “Madam Filodoxos is - well-meaning.  But I’m not blind or deaf, Caiside.  Even your father, as oblivious to the world as he might act, pretty much seems to think that muggles and muggleborns alike are completely unreasonable barbarians who’d as soon cart his only daughter off to some muggle lab to perform nefarious experiments on, followed by a good old fashioned burning-at-the-stake.”

 “They don’t really believe that, do they?” Hermione questioned. “It’s beyond ridiculous!”

Callidus turned back to Hermione.  “Hmm.  I forget.  I suppose you’re fairly insulated from a great deal of the bigotry and prejudice since you’re in Gryffindor.  I might not be a muggle-lover, but even I know that muggles don’t go around tying stones around witchs’ ankles and then tossing them in bodies of water to see if they float.  Which, I should add, people do believe.”

 “But how can they still be so ignorant?” Hermione gasped.  “You’d think that after the last wizarding war, that people would take the time to fix the errors of their thinking, if only to prevent another war.”

 “An idealistic notion, but when it comes to muggles, no - they wouldn’t bother,” Callidus answered.  “If anything, it just gives people’s hatred time to fester.  Humans are simple-minded creatures.  They like having someone to blame.  Besides, fear sells, or have you not been reading the Daily Prophet ?”

 “It’s irrational,” Hermione muttered mulishly.

Callidus shrugged.  “I can’t argue that.”

 “What does Harry think?” Ginny wondered.

Callidus looked over at Ginny.  “About -”

 “Muggles and muggleborns, and stuff.”

 “Ah.  Thank you for that wonderfully clear and detailed elucidation of your question,” Callidus drawled.

 “Oh, shut up!” Ginny retorted.  “You know what I mean.”

Callidus arched a black eyebrow.  The red-head was certainly impertinent.  “He’s not prejudiced, if that’s what you’re asking.  And while he has suffered severe abuses at the hands of his muggle relatives, he’s always been rather forgiving.  Perhaps too forgiving.”

 “Oh.”  Ginny’s expression became contemplative, and a smile spread across her face.  Callidus had the horrible feeling that he had just somehow made the red-head’s infatuation with Harry even worse.

 “It just isn’t what I expected,” Hermione said pensively.

 “What isn’t?” Caiside questioned.

 “The wizarding world,” Hermione admitted.  “When I found out I was a witch, I thought -” she smiled wistfully, “- I thought things would be different.  I thought I finally found a place where I’d belong.  The bigotry - the bias - I wasn’t expecting these things.  I suppose I hoped that magic would make people more open-minded and understanding.”

 “Wizard and witches are still only human,” Callidus pointed out.

 “I know,” Hermione sighed.  “I just hope things get better.  Perhaps if people were better educated -”

Callidus couldn’t help smiling.  Of course Hermione would think that education would be the answer to everything.  If only it were true.

Eventually, (after being shushed by Madam Pince,) the group of them turned their attention to their homework, studying together in a comfortable silence (though Hermione kindly answered any questions that Caiside or Ginny had for her.)  When Callidus finished the last of his essays, he stood up to leave, slinging his book bag across his shoulder.

 “You know, as a friend , you should come by more often,” Caiside suggested.

Callidus narrowed his eyes.  “What are you trying to imply?”

Caiside shrugged casually.  “Just.  You know.  Friends spend time with one another.  And not just when their other friends are busy.”

 “Oh, just leave him be, Caiside,” Hermione scolded.

Caiside looked over at Hermione before shrugging, as if she were indifferent to the whole matter.  “I’m just saying that one ought to enjoy the company of one’s friends.”

Callidus raised an eyebrow.  “Are we friends now, Caiside?”

Caiside’s expression mirrored his own.  “What makes you think I’m talking about myself?”

Callidus’s eyes darted over to Hermione, but the girl was studiously avoiding his eyes, though her cheeks were flushed pink.  He felt like something was going on - did the girls talk about him behind his back?  For some reason, the idea made him incredibly uneasy.  But there was no sense letting Caiside’s words get under his skin - she was just the sort of person who liked to rile people up.  Saying his good-byes to the Gryffindor girls, he made his way back to the Slytherin dungeons.

Chapter Text

It was in late September when a dramatic headline in the Daily Prophet had all of Hogwarts talking.  Callidus was sitting with the other Slytherins in the Great Hall, when the owl post arrived, dropping mail, parcels and newspapers on the students’ hands, laps (or on their plates of food.)  Callidus himself did not subscribe to any newspapers, but Draco’s father had purchased him a subscription, and they always shared.  Callidus took an interest in the news, mostly because the current political environment seemed to be getting increasingly volatile.  He had the feeling that something was happening, though whether it would amount to anything or not, he could not predict.  But most Slytherins tended to keep their eyes and ears open for change and possible opportunity.  It could mean changing fortunes after all.

He was absently eating his kippers, thinking about how he still had to test three more vapourizing spells in the potions lab, when he was aware that the buzz of conversation around him seemed to change and become more excited.  He straightened up, looking towards Parkinson questioningly.  If anything interesting was going on, she was usually the first to verbalize it.

 “Merlin,” he heard Parkinson exhale.

 “Let me see!” Greengrass demanded, pulling the newspaper away from Parkinson, who released it without a struggle.

 “What is it?” Harry queried, his expression concerned.

 “A new disease.  Confirmed by researchers at St. Mungo’s,” Parkinson explained, though her expression remained shocked.  “There’s been over ten cases in London alone since the summer.”  She looked up at Harry, her dark eyes filled with concern.  “They say it’s contagious.  That it makes victims act violently.”

 “But it’s only affect muggleborns - and one half-blood so far,” Draco pointed out.  He too had been reading the article.  He handed the paper towards Harry and Callidus.  “See for yourselves.”

Harry and Callidus held the newspaper between them, reading through article while around them, the other Slytherins speculated and worried.  As Draco had said, almost all the victims were muggleborns.  They all displayed the strange orange rash on their lower back.  And as of yet, there was no cure, and all the patients had been put into a magical stasis at St. Mungo’s.  The whole situation left a roiling sort of unease in Callidus’s gut.  Was it just coincidence that this disease was mostly striking muggleborns?  And if, indeed, muggleborns were particularly susceptible to the disease, what did it mean for wizarding culture?  With the tensions that already existed, how could the wizarding world hold itself together?  Not to mention the horrors of the disease itself.  Would Hogwarts be safe?

Callidus was pulled out of his thoughts when he realized the other Slytherins were talking about this very topic.  Some were wondering if they should return home - especially those that lived on large estates in the countryside.  Others were convinced that there was no place safer than Hogwarts, and did not think it was likely that the disease could affect the school.  Callidus peered over towards the Gryffindor table, curious to see the reactions of the lions.  Hermione looked pale, and was worrying her lower lip.  Ginny was making some sort of sympathetic gesture by rubbing her arm.  As for Caiside, her expression was pensive.  Callidus wondered what she was thinking about.  Caiside supported the cause of muggleborn acceptance (even if it was for rebellious reasons), but if she was worried, shouldn’t her reaction be more like Ginny’s?

Harry had opened the newspaper and was reading through some of the other articles, hoping to glean more information.

 “Oh - I didn’t realize that the Magical Child Protection Act has been passed,” Harry commented when his eyes fell on the article on the second page.

Draco raised his eyebrows.  “Ah, yes, father mentioned in a letter that the wizengamot would be voting on it sometime this month, but I had forgotten the precise date.”  A small smile that didn’t reach his eyes pulled at the corner of his lips.  “I suppose that’s one bit of good news amidst all this mess.  My father knew it would pass, of course, but nonetheless, I imagine he’s pleased at the results.  Finally, you’ll never have to return to those dreadful muggles ever again.”

Harry blinked, feeling a bit staggered by the implications.  “Merlin,” he murmured.  “Never again.  I’ve wanted this for so long I almost can’t believe it’s real.”  But Harry’s expression soon fell.

Draco and Callidus looked at him, puzzled.  “Aren’t you glad?” Draco queried.

 “Yes - but -” Harry’s lips thinned into a line.  “It’s hard to be happy with all this other stuff going on.  It feels selfish, yeah?”

Draco gave Harry and odd look, as though Harry had just spoken in goblin gobbledegook.  “But what does that matter?  It’s not like you’re the one who’s infected with the disease.  It doesn’t really have anything to do with you.”

Callidus rolled his eyes.  “I always figured that concepts like basic decency were beyond you, Draco.”

 “What do you mean?” Draco retorted.  “I have perfectly good manners.  Better than yours, anyhow.  Much, better than yours.”

 “What are you three going on about?” Greengrass cut in, her voice sounding shrill.  “This whole situation is just terrible!  What is Dumbledore going to do about it?”

This comment caused most of the Slytherin second year to look towards the Head Table.  Dumbledore’s expression was oddly neutral - the typical twinkle in his eye was nowhere to be seen.  Something about that sight was strangely unsettling.

 “What can he do?” Draco scoffed.  “Maybe a disaster like this will be what finally gets him kicked out of his position.  Then we could have someone else as headmaster.  Someone who takes our situation and our safety seriously.”

The other Slytherins were nodding in agreement.  But Callidus was troubled - he knew that when Draco said ‘we’ he meant ‘purebloods’ or other people of importance.  But what about the others?  What about his friends like Hermione?  On the other hand, could he really trust Dumbledore?

 “But what could keep us safe?” Harry questioned.  “How do you keep something like a disease out of the school?  How are magical diseases spread anyway?”

Callidus wondered the same thing.  Since he and Harry had grown up in the muggle world, they didn’t know anything about the transmission of magical diseases.  It was hardly the sort of topic that would be discussed at any dinner table.

 “It’s complicated.  Many magical diseases are caused by the interaction of an individual’s magic with the disease agent,” Draco explained.

Callidus raised his eyebrows  “And?” He wanted to hear more details than that.

Draco frowned.  “I can’t really explain it beyond that.”

 “You mean you don’t know how to explain it, or you don’t know?” Callidus grilled.

Draco’s eyes narrowed in irritation.  “I don’t know, all right?  I’m not like Miss Know-it-all-muggleborn there in Gryffindor.  Besides, how diseases work isn’t the point.  The point is what the headmaster means to do about it.”

 “He should just remove all the muggleborns - send them home to the muggle world,” Greengrass insisted.  Upon seeing Harry’s shocked expression and Callidus’s incredulous one, she clarified.  “I mean, for our safety.”

 “It isn’t determined that the disease is limited to muggleborns.  Need I remind you that a half-blood was affected as well?” Callidus intoned, barely able to keep the cutting edge from his voice.

Greengrass opened her mouth to retort - possibly to say something that might be even more offensive, but she seemed to think better of it, and snapped her mouth shut, giving Callidus a dirty look.

By the time that breakfast was over and classes had begun, the situation began to feel more normal.  The news was disturbing, but it also felt relatively distant.  When faced with the normality of learning new charms or taking notes for History, it was easy to forget about what was happening in the outside world.  And with the belief that Hogwarts was one of the safest places on the Isles, it was easier to simply give in to the hope that nothing would happen here at Hogwarts.  Besides, how could one prepare for something like a dangerous disease?  It wasn’t the sort of thing that could be warded off with the right spells.

Callidus had just finished his last class of the day, History of Magic which had left him in a state where it was difficult to stop yawning, when a plump first year approached him.  

 “Are you Callidus?” the boy queried.

 “Yes,” Callidus answered, mildly puzzled.

 “Here.”  The plump boy shoved a folded note at him, before leaving without an explanation.

Callidus unfolded the note.  It was from Dumbledore, requesting a visit (with a postscript recommending the deliciousness of Ice Mice.)  He had almost forgotten about his monthly meetings with the headmaster - especially since Callidus had barely seen him over the summer.

 “What is it?” Harry asked, peering towards the note.

Callidus pocketed it.  “Nothing important.”  He had never been that comfortable discussing his relationship with the headmaster.  It was one of the odd ties to his past self, but if the Slytherins knew that he was having meetings with the headmaster, he’d be subjected to all sorts of wild conjectures.  It wasn’t the sort of thing that he wanted others to gossip about.

He excused himself from his friends, letting them assume that he was going to check something in the Potions Lab (after all, he was there often enough), and made his way towards the stone gargoyle that marked Dumbledore’s office.

After uttering ‘Ice Mice,’ he made his way up the circular stairs and knocked on the door.

 “Ah, come in!” the headmaster’s voice beckoned.

The wooden doors swung open on their own, and as Callidus entered Dumbledore’s office, he could see the man feeding treats to Fawkes, his phoenix familiar.

 “Callidus, my boy,” Dumbledore said with a warm smile.  “How are you?  All settled in for your second year?”

 “I’m well and settled.  Yourself?  I understand that you’ve been very busy this past summer.”

Dumbledore smiled, as if this was a conversation between old friends, and not just some veneer of closeness, in which the whole purpose was to get a sense of what the other party was up to.  But while Callidus might have felt mistrustful, he didn’t resent Dumbledore.  He was certain the old man meant well, even if his nosy good-intentions sometimes caused more trouble than help.

 “Indeed, it has been a very busy summer.  I may have found a lead for what is tying Voldemort to this world.  If I can destroy those ties, he will be gone forever.  As for matters in the wizengamot - well - the climate of wizarding Britain seems to be changing, and it’s important that there be a voice of reason amidst the confusion and fear.”

While Calliudus appreciated Dumbledore’s efforts to remove the Dark Lord from this world, he had doubts about the man meddling in politics.  He gave a slight arch of his eyebrows.  “And you are in the best position to offer the voice of reason?”

Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled.  “One might think that you doubt me, Callidus.”

 “Well, the Magical Child Protection Act did just pass.  What are your thoughts on that?”

Much of the sparkle vanished from Dumbledore’s eyes, but his expression stayed the same - untroubled and warm.  “Many dangerous things can arise from good intentions.  While I’m relieved that the magical world takes the plight of our children seriously, one should do so without demonizing and scapegoating others.”

 “Do you believe the new act does so?”

 “It paves the way for anti-muggle sentiment.  Children should be protected, but not at the expense of antagonizing others.  We should strive to do our best to create a balance between protecting children while respecting muggles.”

 “Harry will never have to see his muggle relatives again.  He should never have been placed with them in the first place,” Callidus pointed out.

 “He will be staying at Hogwarts from now on.  Speaking of Harry, how is he doing?”

Callidus contemplated how he would answer.  He wasn’t about to bring up his suspicions concerning the pendant.  Aside from still throwing the occasional jinx towards Lockhart, Harry didn’t seem affected at all.  Callidus was starting to wonder if maybe Draco was right.  Maybe it was just a strange reaction to the pendant’s protective enchantments.  “He’s well.  He - well - I just wanted to thank you for letting us stay at Hogwarts over the summer.  Harry seemed particularly happy about it.”

Dumbledore inclined his head, and smiled understandingly.  “I’m happy to hear it.”

They fell into a brief silence, in which Dumbledore gave Fawkes another treat.

  “Was there something you wished to discuss today?” Callidus asked.

 “Ah, yes, there was.”  Dumbledore made his way over to his desk and sat down, gesturing for Callidus to do the same.  “What do you know about this new FLAME organization?  I understand that you are close to one of the founders?  Wystan Overcliff?”

 “FLAME?  Yes, Wystan is one of the founders.  Why do you have an interest in their group?”

 “I’ve heard that their group has been making quite an impact.  I simply wished to know your thoughts.”

Callidus shrugged.  He explained the basics of what he knew about Wystan’s organization, but he knew little more than generalities.  Callidus still hadn’t forgotten how Dumbledore had told him his potions discovery couldn’t be published the previous year.  He didn’t wish to needlessly draw Dumbledore’s suspicion towards Wystan’s group.  Wystan had always been on Callidus’s side after all.

Eventually, Callidus was dismissed by the headmaster.  As he left the office, he reflected that it was just a year ago that he felt significantly more comfortable with Dumbledore.  Dumbledore had been like a grandfather figure to him.  Now, Callidus saw him much as the other students did: as a headmaster.  True, Dumbledore spoke to him more than he spoke to the other students, but the feeling of closeness and trust had been lost.  Nonetheless, Callidus wouldn’t assume the worse of Dumbledore either.  The older man had his own agenda, but he was trying to make the world a better place, according to how he saw it.

He was about to head down to the Slytherin dungeons when it occurred to him that he wanted to find a book for a paper he was writing for Transfigurations.  He changed his direction and made his way to the library instead.  As he entered the library, Madam Pince gave him the same suspicious glare that she gave to all the students, but she must have recognized him as being not-a-troublemaker because she quickly looked away.

He ventured through the aisles of books and quickly found what he needed.  As he was about to leave, a familiar voice called his name.  He turned towards the voice and spotted Hermione and Caiside at one of the library tables.

 “Hello Hermione, Caiside.  No Ginny today?” He sat down at the table next to Hermione and across from Caiside.

 “Ginny’s still at practice,” Hermione answered.

Callidus raised his eyebrow.  “Practice.  You wouldn’t happen to be referring to -”

 “I don’t think you were supposed to mention that,” Caiside cut in.  “I think it was supposed to be their big secret.”

Hermione bit down on her lower lip, looking vaguely guilty.  “It just slipped.”

 “Wait - are you saying that Ginny is - on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?  Because as far as I’m aware, Hogwarts doesn’t typically allow first years to play Quidditch.”

 “Don’t tell anyone!” Hermione pleaded.  “I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

 “The Gryffindors must be desperate if they’re allowing first years to play,” Callidus mused.

Caiside had crossed her arms, her expression irritated while Hermione still looked guilty.  “Just drop it,” Caiside snapped.

Callidus grinned wolfishly.  “They are desperate, aren’t they?  Ah, how low they’ve sunk.”

Caiside scowled  “Shut up!  I’ll have you know that Ginny’s an amazing flyer, and Gryffindors are going to crush you Slytherins this year.”

 “I’m hardly an expert on Quidditch, but it’s true - Ginny is quite a remarkable flyer,” Hermione added.

 “Well, we shall see in the first game in November, won’t we?” Callidus challenged.

 “Yes we will,” Caiside replied, her eyes gleaming with opposition.

Hermione sighed and shook her head.  “Is it really worth getting this worked up about Quidditch?”

Caiside still looked combative, but Callidus, who had to endure far too much Quidditch talk was willing to let the topic go with a shrug.

 “I suppose not.  How have you been?” Callidus asked Hermione.  “This morning’s news was rather unexpected, wasn’t it?”

 “That’s one way of putting it,” Caiside muttered.

 “It was disturbing,” Hermione admitted.  “I wonder if they needed to reveal that almost all the victims so far have been muggleborns.  At this point, it could still be a coincidence.  It’s as though they’re purposely adding fuel to the anti-muggle fire.  The situation is disturbing enough as it is.  I started reading about magical diseases just to better understand what might be happening.  The last serious magical epidemic coincided with the muggle Spanish flu.  Of course, the muggle epidemic resulted in much more deaths, but the magical equivalent was quite bad.  It threw the whole wizarding world into chaos.”

Callidus lifted his eyebrows, intrigued.  “What happened?

 “The epidemic of 1918 affected all wizards and witches, not just muggleborns,” Hermione explained.  “But it seemed to predominantly affect the magically weak.  Squibs were especially vulnerable - but pretty much anyone that was below a certain threshold was susceptible to the disease.  When people noticed that squibs were more likely to catch the disease, they were cast out of the wizarding world, with no support - left to die, essentially.  It was appalling.  And because the muggles were so preoccupied with their own epidemic, they didn’t notice a few more fatalities.”

Caiside looked disturbed.  “That’s messed up.”

 “It was awful,” Hermione agreed.  “But as the disease progressed, and people realized that it wasn’t only squibs that were affected, it tore down the social structure of the wizarding community.  People shut themselves in behind protective enchantments.  People became obsessive about learning and using defencive magics, even if it wasn’t proven to help.  Essentially, people stopped trusting one another.  Hospitals were overrun, and researchers were doing everything they could to find a cure.  The rich had it best - they could easily hide behind their large estates, and let others take care of their basic needs.  But it was awful for anyone who lived in a wizarding community, in close proximity to others.  The disease couldn’t be transmitted to muggles, so any who were living amidst muggles were safe, but - as I mentioned, the muggles themselves had their own problems, with the Spanish flu.

 “They found the cure eventually - it was the top priority for the wizarding world at the time, so they had all of the most brilliant minds working towards the solution.  But -” Hermione’s expression was somber, “- it took a long time for the wizarding world to pull itself back together.  The mistrust persisted for quite a while.  People were scared that there would be a resurgence of the disease.  It took years for the wizarding world to recover from that outbreak.  And even now, the perception towards squibs is generally very negative.”

Callidus frowned as he pondered he words.  He could imagine a situation just like that arising if this new disease turned out to be a serious problem.  If it affected muggleborns and pure-bloods alike, that would be bad enough, but if it was mostly muggleborns who were affected, it would only deepen the divide between them.  Something like that could tear the wizarding world apart, and Callidus felt a knot of dark foreboding in his gut.

 “I just hope that whatever it is, they find the cure for it soon,” Hermione sighed.

 “Yeah.  Plus, disasters tend to bring out the worst in people,” Caiside added.  “Did those books mention any ways that we can protect ourselves from getting sick?”

Hermione pursed her lips.  “Mostly just staying away from people who have fallen ill.  Keeping up your magical strength through regular usage.”  She shook her head.  “Nothing that useful.”

Callidus hummed.  He had been planning to excuse himself to return to the dungeons, when Ginny appeared, her hair slightly damp as if recently washed.  Callidus raised his eyebrows, wondering why she hadn’t used a drying spell.

 “Hi everyone!” Ginny chirped brightly, which earned her a threatening glare from Madam Pince.  “Oops!  Hi.” (She said this much more softly.)  “Callidus - I didn’t realize you’d be here today.  Hey Caiside, did you notice the way Neville’s staring at you?  I think he has a crush.” Ginny giggled with amusement, while Caiside frowned.  Hermione and Callidus looked over at the other tables and when they saw Neville Longbottom, a rather timid and clumsy Gryffindor, the boy flushed and stared down at his book with conspicuous concentration.

 “It’s not a crush,” Caiside countered,  “he just has an interest in magical plants, and he knows that I like them too.”

Ginny smirked.  “Sure.  Whatever you say.”  She flopped down on the seat next to Caiside. “What have you lot been talking about?”

Callidus, Hermione and Caiside exchanged glances.  “Well - we were talking about magical diseases,” Hermione admitted.

Ginny wrinkled her nose.  “That’s - er -”

 “Odd?  Depressing?  Disturbing?  Alarming?  Funny?” Caiside suggested.

 “Er - one of those,” Ginny finished.  “Probably not funny.”

 “Yes, well, this has been nice, but I think I’ll be leaving.” Callidus quickly stood up.

 “Aw, so soon?” Ginny pouted. “I wanted to ask you about -”

 “Harry’s good, Harry’s fine,” Callidus cut her off.  “Harry’s probably just as upset about the disease as you are.  See you later Hermione, Caiside.”  And with that, Callidus quickly left before he could be pulled into the grasp of the three girls.

Chapter Text

In the final week of September, Callidus, Harry and Draco had just finished their classes for the day and they had noticed that the crowd around the Slytherin’s notice board was thicker than usual.  The trio shared a look.  Was there a post about the new club ARMED?  Or could it be about reinstating the duelling club?

 “Let’s go take a look,” Draco suggested, already pushing his way through the crowd.  

Since most of the older students had already read the notice, they shifted away, allowing the younger students access.  The noticeboard contained not one, but two new notices.  The first read: ‘First meeting of the ARMED club - October 1st.  Speak to Euphemia Rowle if interested.’  Callidus noted with interest that there was no mention of what the new club would even be about.  Were they relying on word of mouth to gain the interest of the other students?  The second notice read: ‘Hogwarts Dueling club - First meeting at 8 o’clock in the Great Hall.’

 “The dueling club!” Harry exclaimed happily.  “I was wondering when they would start that up again.”

Draco nodded.  “We’ll need it.  Considering Lockhart’s teaching abilities, I doubt we’ll learn anything useful in his class this year.” He shook his head.  “How senile can Dumbledore be to hire him?”

 “I didn’t realize it was possible for a teacher to be worse at teaching than Quirrell,” Harry added wryly.  “But at least with Lockhart, we’ve got him in a position of submission.” Harry smirked with dark satisfaction.

Draco grinned.  “The dueling club might even teach us new spells that we could use on him.”

 “Frankly, I’m surprised he managed to even last as long as he has,” Callidus intoned.  “It’d be a miracle if he survives to the end of the year without a full nervous breakdown.”

 “Ha!  Could you imagine if he ended up in the Janus Thickey Ward because of us?” Draco speculated.

Callidus peered over at Harry.  Often, similar comments would cause Harry to comment that Draco was going too far, or that he was being cruel.  Instead, Harry just looked amused.

 “So - about ARMED,” Callidus changed the topic.

Draco’s expression became thoughtful.  “You know, my father actually wrote me about the new club.  He insisted that I join.  He didn’t tell me why though, but I assume it’s important.  He wouldn’t suggest a club unless there was something important I could gain from it.” Draco looked over at Callidus.  “What did Wystan tell you about it?”

Having explained it before, Callidus explained the club to Draco and Harry again.  But since he hadn’t gotten that much details from Wystan, there were still many gaps in his knowledge.

 “You know who Euphemia Rowle is, right?” Harry asked Draco.

Draco nodded.  He scanned the common room until his eyes fell upon a seventh year girl.  She had sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, and thin lips pulled up in a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.  Rowle was with a group of other seventh year students, and judging by the way that she allowed them to do the talking, she appeared to be rather reserved.

 “Her,” Draco indicated with the tilt of his chin.

 “Should we go speak to her now?” Harry pondered.  It seemed rather brash to simply interrupt a group of seventh years.  On the other hand, the notice had said to speak to her, and if not now, then when?

Draco shrugged indifferently.   “I don’t see why not.”  Rowle might be part of an old and noble pureblood family, but she did not have the same wealth, influence or power as the Malfoys.

Thus decided, the trio made their way over to the group of upperclassmen.  

 “Hello Euphemia,” Draco greeted with polished pureblood manners.

Rowle peered up at him from the sofa, and her smile widened, looking slightly more genuine.  “Draco.”

 “We noticed the note that you had pinned to the board and wanted to speak to you about ARMED,” Draco informed her.  “We were interested in joining.”

Upon saying ‘we,’ Rowle suddenly seemed aware of Callidus’s and Harry’s presence.  She gave them a nod that could only be described as microscopic before turning her attention back to Draco.

 “Of course,” she answered smoothly.  “The first meeting will be in one of the empty rooms in the dungeon - it the empty room next to where Professor Snape’s office used to be.  Do you know where that is?”

 “Yes,” Draco replied.

 “To join ARMED, there is a fifty galleon entry free.  You’re also required to loan or if you’re feeling generous, donate an old spellbook or grimoire to the club, which all other members will have access to.” Rowle raised her eyebrows slightly, as if silently asking whether Draco understood.

 “What if we don’t have old spellbooks to donate?” Harry cut in.

Rowle peered towards Harry before bringing her eyes back to Draco.  “The terms of entry into ARMED are not negotiable.”

 “Can’t we just - pay more galleons instead?” Harry offered.

Rowle flicked another glance at Harry before looking back at Draco.  “The requirements include the fee and the spellbook or grimoire.  You understand that starting a club like this one presents quite a risk to us, don’t you?” Rowle’s expression towards Draco was imploring.  “By loaning or donating a spellbook, it’s a form of security, to ensure that members will not do anything to betray the interests of the club.  So I’m afraid I can’t bend these requirements for anyone .”  

 “I understand,” Draco murmured.  Rowle gave him a warm smile (or at least the warmest that Callidus had seen so far.)  

Draco smiled in return. “Good day, then.”  With a nod, he left the group of seventh years, trailed by an irritated-looking Harry and a thoughtful but troubled Callidus.  Despite Rowle’s polite words, she did not seem troubled that the requirements would potentially exclude a great deal of people.  Callidus couldn’t help wondering if perhaps that was what she wanted.  Was this why Parkinson didn’t like her?

The trio made their way to the second year’s usual spot in the common room, where most of their peers were already lounging.

 “What was with her?” Harry wondered, his mouth formed into scowl.  “Did you notice how she barely looked at me or Callidus, and directed the whole conversation to you, Draco?”

Draco blinked.  “She did?”

Callidus arched an eyebrow.  “You didn’t notice.”

Harry made a sound of exasperation.  

The trio sat down at the sofa, and were met with questioning looks from Parkinson, who was perched on the arm of one of the armchairs across from them.  Blaise himself sat in the armchair.

 “You spoke to Two-faced Euphie?” she asked, though it was clear that she had been observing them and already knew the answer.

 “She seemed perfectly polite to me,” Draco remarked.

Harry’s eyebrows were knit.  “What is her issue?”

 “I told you she was two-faced,” Parkinson reminded him.  “She only associates with those that she considers important enough.  Unfortunately, she’s always been rather good at masking her feelings.  She rarely ever does anything that gives away her disdain for others.”

Callidus frowned.  He remembered Parkinson’s words on Hogwarts Express.  He hadn’t been sure of what to expect when it came to Euphemia Rowle, and had decided to reserve judgement until he interacted with her.  But that initial interaction had not left him feeling optimistic.  Mentioning that old spellbooks or grimoires were required was like an indirect way of saying: ‘only old pureblood families are allowed.’  It enabled Rowle to act polite, while using the rules themselves to exclude people she didn’t like.  If Rowle’s actions had been intentional, it was not a good sign - or rather, it was the sign of a savvy Slytherin, who knew how to use indirect means to get her way.

Harry crossed his arms.  “I don’t like her.”

Parkinson smirked.  “Join the club.”

 “I still think it would be advantageous to join ARMED,” Callidus opined.  “Though it’s unfortunate for the club to be headed by someone like Rowle.”  Callidus wondered if Wystan was aware of Rowle’s nature.  He would have to write him to find out.

 “Rowle shouldn’t be in charge of anything other than her own wardrobe,” Parkinson declared.  “Though I question if she should even be in charge of that.  I certainly shan’t be joining her club.”

Zabini gave a light shrug. “I can’t say I have a strong interest in joining either.”

 “I’ll join,” Bulstrode threw in.

 “But Millie!” Parkinson protested. “Don’t you remember how Euphie treated you before?”

Bulstrode shrugged.  “The club might make me stronger.”

 “I definitely will,” Draco announced.

Parkinson rolled her eyes.  “Obviously.  You’ll do anything that daddy tells you to do.”

 “That’s because -”

 “- your father is a respectable pureblood, with a powerful position in society, who knows all sorts of things that we don’t.  Yes, yes, Draco, we’ve heard it all before,” Parkinson interrupted. “Regardless of all that, I have better things to do than to submit myself to Two-faced Euphie’s authority in any way.  I have a feeling she’ll take advantage of it in the worst sort of way.”

 “But wouldn’t she still be obligated to run the club well?” Callidus wondered. “It’s a subsidiary under the FLAME organization.  She can’t just run roughshod over everything and everyone, can she?”

Parkinson shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll do a sufficient job of running the club.   If she considers you good enough for her attentions.”

Harry frowned. “This is starting to sound a lot less appealing.  Maybe we should just stick to the dueling club.  The first meeting is tonight.”

Parkinson huffed. “All this talk of clubs is boring anyway.  There was something else that I wanted to discuss.” Parkinson turned towards Callidus, wearing a knowing smile that sent shivers down his spine.

 “ Cal ,” Parkinson purred. “Blaise and I were in the library the other day.  Since when have you acquired a gaggle of girls as companions?”

Draco’s eyes bulged and he stared at Callidus.  “Gaggle of girls?  What are they talking about?”

Callidus groaned.  “It’s nothing.  Just Hermione, Caiside who is part of my foster family, and one of their friends.”

Draco leaned forward, not bothering to hide his interest.  “Who?”

 “Ginny Weasley.”

 “Weasley?!” Draco exclaimed.  Callidus was uncomfortably aware that he had the stares of all the second year Slytherins. “The one that we saw at Gambol and Japes?  Or partially saw before she scurried away like a rodent exposed to the light?”

Harry was laughing at this point.  “So it’s just you and three girls?  And aren’t they all Gryffindors?  When do you see them?  I’ve never seen you alone with three girls.”

Callidus scowled, crossing his arms defensively.  “When the two of you are at practice.  We just study together.  It’s not like we’re all friends .  I’m only friends with Hermione.  And that’s because she’s the only intelligent company I can find in this school, unlike you lot.”

Draco snorted.  “Sure.  Study.  Is that just your way of saying that you help each other with beauty spells, gossip about Lockhart’s eyes, and apply each other’s Sleekeazy hair potion?”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “Have you seen Hermione’s hair?  You probably spend more time on your hair than the three of them combined.  You’re being ridiculous.”

 “Hm.  You have a point,” Draco conceded.  “Gryffindor girls are practically barbarians.”

 “I think it’s cute !” Parkinson grinned.  “Absolutely adorable!”

 “Do they really talk about Lockhart’s eyes?” Harry asked, his nose scrunched up.  “I was hoping that delusion was limited to only Slytherin girls and maybe Hufflepuffs.  What do they see in him anyway?  Maybe a few more balding spells will change their minds.”

 “You wouldn’t dare make Professor Lockhart bald!” Parkinson exclaimed in dismay, but the trio ignored her.

Callidus’s expression was disgusted.  “No one talks about Lockhart!  I’d curse them all to silence if they tried.”

 “What do you talk about then?” Draco wondered.

A slow smile spread across Callidus’s face as he thought of some way he could irritate Draco. “Oh, mostly they ask about Harry.  Seeing as they think he’s the best of the Slytherin boys.”

Draco frowned.  “What?  No, you’re lying!  Everyone knows and wants the the favour of the Malfoys.”

Harry only blushed, embarrassed by the idea that a group of girls were talking about him behind his back, even if it probably happened all the time.

Callidus shrugged casually.  “Believe what you want.  But dark, mysterious and heroic seems to be much more appealing than uptight and blond.”

 “They just know that they’d never stand a chance with me,” Draco retorted.

 “Ah, Draco, you assume too much.” Callidus grinned wickedly.  “You assume that they’ve even noticed you in the first place.”

 “Who cares about the attention of a bunch of uncouth Gryffindors anyway?” Draco pouted.

Callidus just smirked.  Eventually the conversation died down as the students began to work on their assignments.  Before long, it was almost 8 o’clock, and the trio (as well as Bulstrode, Davis, Nott and Zabini) headed towards the Great Hall for the first meeting of the dueling club.

This year, the crowd seemed larger than it had the previous year.  And when the trio caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair standing on the central platform, they realized why.  Not only was Professor Flitwick standing on the stage, but Lockhart was as well.  The trio couldn’t help the expressions of dismay that crossed their faces.

 “I really hope he’s just here to help with demonstrations,” Harry muttered. “Although - with a crowd like this.  Hm.  It’d be a good opportunity to try some of the new spells we’ve been learning on him, yeah?”

Callidus and Draco looked over at Harry.  Draco was now wearing a wicked smile that matched Harry’s while Callidus felt a bit more indifferent.  Lockhart was annoying, but the trio’s constant pranks and hexes had worn him down and the man had lost a great deal of his obnoxiousness.  It wasn’t quite as fun hexing him anymore.

As the trio wove their way through the crowd, Callidus caught sight of Hermione, who was flanked by Caiside and Ginny.  She spotted them a moment later, and called out to them.

 “Hi Callidus, Harry, Draco.  Isn’t it exciting that Lockhart will be helping with the dueling club this year?”

Callidus tried not to wince while Draco and Harry smirked at him.

 “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your - friends?” Draco asked Callidus, barely able to hide his amusement.

 “Draco, Harry, this is Caiside Filodoxos and Ginny Weasley.  Caiside and Ginny, this is Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy,” Callidus gritted out.

 “Charmed,” Caiside uttered.  As for Ginny, Callidus was surprised to see that the girl had flushed an alarming shade of red, and could barely bring herself to look at Harry.  What happened to the brash and confident girl that he knew?

 “Hello,” Ginny said in a voice so small and shy that she could barely be heard over the crowd.

 “The pleasure is mine,” Draco said, displaying his best pureblood manners.

As Draco began to make small talk with the girls, Harry leaned over towards Callidus.

 “What’s wrong with her?” Harry queried, referring to Ginny’s awkward behaviour.

Callidus shook his head.  “She’s not usually like that.  Usually, she speaks her mind, but for the most part, she only wants to talk about - er - you.”

 “Me?  So you were serious about that?”  Now Harry was the one who was blushing.  He groaned.  “It’s that whole Boy-Who-Lived thing, isn’t it?  The Weasley twins had mentioned it, but I had hoped that they were just joking.”

 “No, it’s no joke.”  Callidus considered bringing Harry over to speak to the now-bashful Ginny, but he had a feeling that both of them wouldn’t be able to endure the embarrassment.  It was amusing, and Harry probably deserved it for making fun of him earlier, but Ginny looked like her heart would probably explode.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Lockhart’s voice.   "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!” Lockhart flashed a brilliant white grin.  He was wearing dueling robes that looked more decorative than functional, including a cape of shiny gold and velvet black.

As Lockhart continued to blather, Harry murmured, “Watch this.”

Harry whispered a spell, and with a ‘v’ like flick of his wand, Lockhart’s cape flew upwards and covered him.

 “What the deuce?!” Lockhart exclaimed, his voice muffled by his thick cape.  He struggled to pull the cape off of himself, while the crowd of students either laughed at him or if they were fans, made sympathetic noises.

 “Ah - what Professor Lockhart was saying was that we’ll be commencing dueling club meetings starting this week,” Flitwick cut in, his eyes bright with amusement.  “Since quite a number of our volunteers have graduated, I’d like students who are interested in volunteering this year to please step forward.”

Lockhart, who had finally managed to extricate himself from his cape interrupted. “I thought the students would like to see a little demonstration first.  After all, they’ll surely want to witness my - er - our skills, in the honourable art of dueling, something I have proven my remarkable proficiency in numerous times.” Lockhart grinned again at the crowd, as confident as ever.  “For full details, see my published works.”

Draco scowled, and with a whispered spell, he made a looping movement with his wand, causing Lockhart to trip and nearly fall on his face.

 “Whoops!” Lockhart uttered sheepishly.  “Just - er - showing off my quick reflexes!”

 “Right,” Flitwick muttered before increasing his volume for the crowd.  “Well, I suppose our students might like to see a demonstration.  It looks like we have quite a number of first years and other new members this year, which I’m pleased to see.  Dueling is indeed a noble and ancient art, but it’s an exciting one as well.”

 “Think he stands a chance?” Harry asked under his breath.

Draco snorted, while Callidus just said: “No.”

The two professors took their positions on the stage.  Lockhart once again turned towards the crowd of students.  “Now, some of the spells we’ll be showing you might be far beyond your years, but with a little practice you might be able to master them as I have.  What you lack in natural talent, you can always make up with in hard work, I’ve always said.  I myself, though highly talented, have never been a stranger to putting in my share of sweat and blood!”

The trio rolled their eyes.  

Finally, the professors were in their dueller’s stances.  The crowd had fallen silent in anticipation for the show.

 “On the count of three, we will cast our first spells,” Lockhart informed them. “Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

 “That’s a shame,” Harry muttered.

 “One - two - three -”

While Lockhart’s wand hand was still up in the air, Professor Flitwick had moved with amazing speed, appearing almost like a small blur.  

 “ Expelliarmus !” The diminutive professor had cried.  Lockhart’s wand had flown straight out of his hand and into Flitwick’s.

 “Ah - Well done, Professor Flitwick!  I meant to do that of course - it was the perfect opportunity to show you the disarming spell, and I didn’t want your beloved Charms professor to be harmed of course.  Now if we can -”

 “Let’s have the House volunteers come to the front,” Flitwick cut in, taking charge of the club.  There was a groan of disappointment in the crowd.  Many of the students would have been pleased to see Lockhart repeatedly defeated by Flitwick.

 “Professor Lockhart’s so gallant,” the trio heard Hermione comment wistfully.

 “Harry’s more gallant,” Ginny declared, before realizing what she had admitted and turning a vibrant red.

 “How can you possibly like him?” Harry wondered, incredulously.  “The only contests he’s likely to win are bragging contents.”

 “He’s a well respected author who has published many well-known works,” Hermione defended.

 “He can’t even protect himself from basic jinxes,” Callidus scoffed.

Hermione narrowed her eyes.  “What do you mean?  What would you know about his self-defence skills?  Haven’t you read his books?”

Since the trio weren’t about to admit that they were terrorizing Lockhart (no matter how proud they were of the fact), they didn’t know how to respond.

 “The man does have a rather dashing smile,” Caiside pointed out.

 “And how many duels have been won with a dashing smile?” Callidus queried sarcastically.

 “Well, if you read Holidays with Hags , you’d know that -”

 “Nevermind!” Callidus interjected, cutting Hermione off.  “I’m sure Lockhart managed to charm many a number of hags with his smiles.”

Hermione pursed her lips.  “If you had read Professor Lockhart’s books, you’d know that the duel he references doesn’t actually have to do with hags.  It was truly a brave feat - and much of it had to do with a misunderstanding on the part of the helpless villagers that were being terrorized by -”

 “Okay, I think we’ve heard enough Lockhart.  Maybe we should focus on the dueling club instead?” Harry suggested.

 “Yes, please, ” Draco answered, as if it pained him to hear anything positive about Lockhart.

Finally, Flitwick had the volunteers sorted out, and the students separated themselves by their houses.  The Slytherin’s volunteer leader was a sixth year named Tristan Blackshale that none of the trio were particularly familiar with.  Unlike Wystan, he wasn’t wearing a welcoming smile, but instead, seemed to have a serious demeanour.  Nonetheless, the Slytherins were optimistic.  Hopefully dueling club would be as fun this year as it was the previous one.

Chapter Text

  “October already,” Draco declared.

Harry nodded.  “The first meeting of the ARMED club will be tonight.

The trio were in the Great Hall with the other Slytherins, eating their breakfast.  They had all decided that they would be joining ARMED, despite their reservations about Rowle.  Since neither Callidus nor Harry had appreciated Rowle's treatment towards them, they had spoken to the other club leader, Gabriel Truman.  The Hufflepuff had been incredibly friendly - more so than they were accustomed to from someone they barely knew.  Furthermore, Truman had been very enthusiastic about the new club, speaking of all that he hoped ARMED would accomplish for the student body.  However, it was evident to both Callidus and Harry that this branch of ARMED would not be covering anything considered Dark.  It sounded interesting and they could see that Truman would probably do his best to make the club enjoyable, but both boys felt as if they would be at a disadvantage if they didn't join the Slytherin faction.

They had both been worried about meeting Rowle's requirements.  But in the end, Harry had been able to write to Gringott's bank where it turned out that some old Potter spellbooks had been stored.  As for Callidus, he realized that his older self had purchased two incredibly old and rare grimoires.  It felt like it was luck alone that had gained them entrance into the club.

After their initial meeting with the Flitwick and Lockhart in the Great Hall, their interest in ARMED had waned.  However, when the younger Slytherins had their first meeting with Tristan Blackshale, they were disappointed.  It turned out that Flitwick had given all the volunteers suggested frameworks to follow.  While Wystan had been very flexible with the suggestions, adding his own extra spells and techniques if he thought the students could handle it, Blackshale was extremely rigid.  He treated Flitwick’s framework as if it were mandatory, rather than optional, refusing to deviate from Flitwick's written notes.

While the trio had ended up learning a new spell, they hadn't enjoyed the experience.  Blackshale had been far too tyrannical.  He was like a younger Professor McGonagall, except more judgemental, hovering over the student's shoulders like an over-zealous ministry safety inspector.  It left the trio wondering how Blackshale managed to have any friends at all in his House.  Perhaps he treated his friends completely differently.

 “I can't believe that all of you have decided to go,” Parkinson whinged from across the breakfast table.  “I mean, I knew Draco would but I thought you two didn't like Euphie.” This was addressed to Callidus and Harry.  

 “We don't like her,” Callidus answered. “We're just hoping that what we can learn outweighs the unpleasantness of her presence.”

 “I hope it's worth it,” Parkinson muttered.

Before Callidus could reply, the owl post had arrived, and a letter had been dropped in front of Callidus, narrowly missing his pumpkin juice.  Callidus picked it up and recognized Wystan’s pointy scrawl.  He unfolded the letter.

Hello Callidus,

I can't believe September is nearly over - or I suppose that when you receive this, September will actually be over.  Makes you wish you had your own time-turner, doesn't it?  Do you even know what a time-turner is?  Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it, because now that you know of their existence, you'll want one.  One paragraph in, and I've probably already filled you with disappointment.  I feel like that ought to be some sort of record.   The handwriting changed to Calypso's loopy style.   Or you could just have low expectations!

The handwriting returned to Wystan’s scrawl .  Isn't she cute?  Anyhow you wanted to know why I chose Euphemia to lead the Slytherin faction of the club?  I've always found her to be nice though with my ‘talent’ I do get the sense that she’s rather greedy, but then again, most Slytherins are driven by either a need for recognition or by galleons. On top of that, she volunteered for it.  Running a club is a lot of work - I know you probably thought I was just winging it during your dueling club meetings, but to be honest, I gave it a lot of thought.   The handwriting switched again.   Aww, he likes to think that he's cool but he tries so hard.  I know that sounds sarcastic, but it's actually a good thing <3

Callidus scrunched his nose.  Was this turning into some sort of love letter?  It was kind of embarrassing.

The letter returned to the pointy scrawl.   She's just perfect, isn't she?

And now it was Calypso's handwriting. I am, aren't I?  But you're pretty perfect yourself.

Callidus winced, scanning through the letter until it contained some actual content.  What were they thinking, putting all this lovey dovey stuff in a writing?  Couldn’t they just keep it between themselves?

Anyway, wrote Wystan, we've been making a lot of headway with FLAME’s objectives.  There's a lot of interest in the magical world for forms of magic that can solve problems in ways that Light or Grey magics can't.  On top of that, people resent being told by the ministry what forms of magic they can or can't perform.  I mean, how and why is it even the Ministry's business to tell us what magics we can use in our own homes?  Witches and wizards deserve the right to practice the magics they chose, so long as all participants consent in the processes involved.

Of course, opponent will argue that it's a slippery slope, but I believe they are using fallacious reasoning.  They’re using fear mongering to block something that they don’t understand, and because they don’t understand it, they don’t want anyone else to have access to it.

It sounds like you’re current potions projection is quite fascinating.  Now that you mention it, it is rather odd to think that the vapourization of potions has not been heavily studied.  If you make any interesting breakthroughs, let me know.  I can get you in contact with people who can get your ideas published, or if not that, then I could get you in contact with interested investors.  Since starting FLAME, I’ve met quite a number of interesting and powerful people.

As for this new disease, FLAME hasn’t been involving itself in any of the research.  Most of that is being done at St. Mungo’s, although they’re more focused on finding a cure, than understanding the disease itself.  Actually, what our researchers are studying is the impact of different types of magic on a person’s magical energy.  Some call it the aura, or others refer to it as the magical signature.  We haven’t come up with a definitive term yet.  But preliminary studies have shown that using what’s considered Dark Magic leaves a lasting mark on one’s ‘magical signature.’  In fact, Light magic and Grey magic do so as well, but naturally, people are most fascinated with the effects of Dark Magic.

We don’t yet know what this mark on the ‘magical signature’ means.  That is, we can’t confirm whether it’s harmful or benign, but my guess is that the mark is largely neutral.  It’d be a huge blow against us advocates of all forms of magic if it turns out that Dark Magic is harmful.  Of course, I wouldn’t let my biases colour my perceptions of the results.  It’s not my research anyway - it’s just what some of our researchers are working on.

I think I’ve been blathering for long enough, and Calypso is starting to wilt from the lack of my attention.   The handwriting switched to loopy and round.   I am not!  And then it returned to Wystan’s text.   Ha!  She’s so adorable.  I can’t say no to my fair maiden.

Until next time,

Wystan Overcliff

By the end of the letter, Callidus couldn’t help shaking his head.

 “What did Wystan have to say?” Harry asked, peering over at the letter.

 “About Rowle?  Nothing useful.  He said she volunteered to lead the club, and that she was nice and - greedy.”  Callidus frowned.

 “Greedy?” Harry echoed.  “Hm.  Gabriel Truman didn’t mention any entry fee when we asked him about his faction of ARMED.  What if she’s keeping all those galleons for herself?”

 “Hrm,” Parkinson hummed, her eyes narrowed.  “Honestly, that wouldn’t surprise me.”  She peeked over to the end of the table where the seventh years were sitting before returning her gaze to Harry and Callidus.  “Are you to sure you want to join?”

Callidus shrugged.  “We might as well find out what it’s all about.”

Classes seemed to pass slowly that day.  They were learning the skurge charm in Charms, which was used to clean up ectoplasm from passing ghosts.  However, Callidus also noted that it could be used to frighten spirits including poltergeists like Peeves.  He didn’t yet know how he could take advantage of the spell, but it seemed like it would be worth remembering, just in case.

The Hufflepuff’s resident ghost, the Fat Friar had volunteered to help Flitwick with the class, and was acting remarkably cheerful about the whole matter, despite the fact that a few students had almost hit him with the skurge charm.

 “Good job there!” the sunny-natured ghost kept declaring.  “Oh my, careful with that wand!  Almost hit me!  But excellent job casting!”  He floated across the front of the class, and between the desks, leaving a generous trail of ectoplasm in his wake.  Between the Fat Friar and Flitwick, it was hard to tell who was merrier.  Callidus would have found it more amusing, but it was hard to stop thinking about what the ARMED club would be like.

Finally, classes were over for the day.  Callidus spent an hour working in the potions lab, before joining the rest of the second years in the common room to half-heartedly work on their assignments.  Before long, it was evening.  The trio collected their spellbook and galleons, and made their way to the empty room where the club would be meeting.  When they arrived, there were already numerous Slytherins there.

Despite not having been used for as long as anyone could remember, the room was tidy and spotlessly clean.  It certainly wasn’t filled with dust, cobwebs and broken furniture, like one might imagine a previously abandoned room to look like.  Most of the chairs were taken by the upperclassmen, so the younger students remained standing.  The trio spotted Euphemia Rowle at one side of the room, collecting the grimoires and fees from a group of students, while another student recorded their personal information on a parchment.

Making their way over to her, they waited as the other Slytherins handed over their books and galleons.  When they were finally in front of Rowle, she looked startled to see both Callidus and Harry.  However, her expression changed and she gave them a polite (but chilly) smile.  When she turned to Draco, she warmed considerably.

 “Good to see you here, Draco.  Ah, what a remarkable grimoire you’ve brought.  Doesn’t this pre-date Merlin?” Rowle queried, as she examined the book.

Draco nodded proudly.  “It does.”

 “Remarkable.” Rowle looked at the book with admiration before carefully setting it down with the other books on the table.  “This is an amazingly generous loan on your part. I can’t thank you enough.”

 “You’re quite welcome,” Draco answered, looking pleased with himself.  He shuffled over to the other student, who took down his name and the title and description of the grimoire he had lent.

Next was Harry’s turn.  He handed his galleons and books over to Rowle.  She looked down at the spellbook, flipping through its pages and frowning, before looking back up at Harry.

 “You are aware that most of these are Light or neutral spells, don’t you?” Rowle questioned.

Harry shrugged.  “And?  You asked for an old spellbook and I brought one.”

Rowle’s icy blue eyes narrowed slightly, and her thin lips pulled into a thinner line.  “Are you quite certain you understand what this club is about?”

Now Harry was starting to look irritated.  Even Callidus felt annoyed.  Rowle was speaking to Harry as if he were a small and ignorant child.

 “I understand that this is a club to study and practice magic of all types,” Harry said tartly.  “As far as I’m aware, Light and neutral magics fall under the category of ‘all magic.’”

Rowle looked like she was almost ready to argue but managed to hold herself back.  She pasted a false smile on her face, and set the book down, placing it so that it was slightly distanced from the others.  “Please make your way to the left.  Roselind with take down your name and information.”  Rowle looked away from Harry and gave Callidus the same false smile.

It pained Callidus to have to hand over the book and the gold.  He knew that the book would eventually be returned, but he didn’t trust Rowle.  Unlike Draco or Harry, Callidus didn’t have an inheritance - all he had were the earnings he had made as an adult (as well as his more recent earnings, selling potions under the table.)  Fifty galleons was a small fortune to him, and handing it over to someone like Rowle felt as distasteful as licking the underbelly of a rat.  It left a bad taste in his mouth.

Rowle examined his book.  “Hmm.  Not as old as some of the others.”  She shrugged.  “Make your way to the left.”  And with that, Callidus was dismissed.

After giving the girl at the table his name and information, he made his way over to his friends, who were standing by one of the far walls.  The older students seemed to cluster together, as did the younger ones.  

When all the interested club members were finally processed, Rowle made her way to the front of the room and flicked her wand to set off a stream of sparkling pale sparks to gain the students’ attention.  Her movements were so dainty and refined that Callidus wondered how many years it took for her to perfect her pure-blood mannerisms.

 “Hello everyone, and welcome to the first meeting of the ARMED club,” Rowle began.  “As many of you are aware, ARMED is a subsidiary of the FLAME organization.  We’ve started this club so that we can have access to the many types of magics that aren’t taught at a school like Hogwarts.  Many of us here already have the private means to supplement our knowledge, but the aim of ARMED is to gather all these magics in one place so that we have access to greater knowledge and greater magic.  It’s up to us to supplement our own gaps of ignorance.  It’s up to us to make sure we don’t suffer the disadvantages of only knowing the magics that Ministry administrators allow us to learn.  To that end, I’ve agreed to head the Slytherin faction of ARMED, to ensure that our generation receives the advantages we rightly deserve.”

 “Hear, hear!” a couple of the upperclassman called out in approval.

Rowle smiled, tipping her sandy-haired head in their direction.  “Much like the dueling club - those of you who are in it will know what I’m talking about - we’ll be splitting the ARMED club into two groups to account for differences in ability and skill.  Each week, I’ll be delving into different spell types, but it’s up to you to decide which specific spells of that spell type you wish to learn.  I recommend that those of you who are more experienced in magic help your peers who might be less experienced.”

 “Will we be practicing spells here?” a third-year called out.

Rowle shook her head.  “No, I’m afraid not.  As most of you should know, certain types of magic are monitored in Hogwarts.  If Dark Magic is cast, Dumbledore will be alerted and it could very well result in your expulsion.  However, we will be practicing magics.  A number of you are already aware of this, but long ago, Salazar Slytherin had created a secret duelling room attached to our common room.  Any type of magic cast there - even unforgivables, is undetectable.”  Rowle smiled at the exclamations of surprise from many of the students.  “But sadly not all of you will be able to access this dueling room.  You see, Salazar Slytherin was very particular about who he wanted in his House, and the room is only admissible by way of blood.”

 “What do you mean?” a fourth-year asked.

 “I mean that the secret entrance will not open unless you apply a drop of your blood, and the room only permits those whose blood is - pure,” Rowle explained.

 “But then how will I be able to practice any of these magics?” the fourth-year asked.  Callidus didn’t know the older student well, but thought that he was probably a half-blood.

Rowle’s expression became sympathetic, but to Callidus and Harry, it looked fake.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to be resourceful and find your own means.  You are Slytherin after all, aren’t you?”

 “That doesn’t seem fair,” Harry muttered.

Rowle seemed to have heard Harry, because she answered: “As a member of ARMED, you’ll still have access to many resources such as these spellbooks and grimoires.  You have to keep in mind that most pure-blood families have had years and years of experience with these types of magics.  Think of it as a matter of experience and safety.”

 “Yes, except that we’re all here to learn, so presumably, we’re close to equally experienced,” Harry retorted.  Callidus silently agreed.

 “I can see how you might think that,” Rowle remarked, condescendingly.  “How nice to see that you have such confidence.  But hubris and inexperience are a dangerous mix.” Rowle looked over at Draco.  “Draco, with a lineage such as your own, I highly suggest that you take on the role of overseeing your friends .  I know that I can count on you.  I wouldn’t want for anybody to be hurt after all.”

At this point, Callidus went from feeling mildly annoyed to seeing red.  He balled his hands into fists, not wanting to lash out and look like an idiot in front of the other Slytherins.  How dare Rowle talk down to them in such a manner?  Both Callidus and Harry knew that in terms of magical ability, they were just as good (if not better) than Draco.  For Rowle to give power over to Draco was like an attempt to drive a wedge between them, unbalancing their friendship.

He didn’t know if Rowle was correct or not.  He didn’t know if pure-bloods had some innate advantage when it came to Dark Magic, due to blood and breeding.  But now, Callidus was determined to prove that he (and Harry) could be just as good at Dark Magic as any pure-blood.  In fact, with his intellectual capabilities, he might even be able to prove it on an objective level.

As for Draco, the blond was looking particularly smug, clearly preening under Rowle’s constant flattery.  Callidus really hoped that Rowle’s comments wouldn’t get to Draco’s head and cause him to act like he was better than them.  It sounded like something Draco would be susceptible to, and Callidus was already thinking of ways that he’d have to knock Draco down a few pegs.

Callidus barely listened to the rest of Rowle’s speech.  By the time the meeting was over, his emotions had cooled only a little.

 “Merlin, I swear that every time we deal with her, she gets worse,” Harry ranted as they made their way back towards their dormitory.  “It’s like it’s her life goal to be the queen viper of condescension.  She makes me want to - arrg -” Harry’s hands made a strangling gesture.

Draco looked puzzled.  “What do you mean?  And what are you implying?”  Obviously the idea of strangling someone would be lost on him - such uncouth behaviours were limited to muggles.

 “Of course you wouldn’t understand,” Callidus sighed.

 “I understand!” Draco defended.  “You’re both just mad that Euphemia recognizes my natural advantage.  But it’s not your fault that you were born the way you were - blame your parents for that.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco.  “Blame.  My.  Parents.”

 “Err - that’s not what I meant,” Draco backtracked.  “I just meant that sometimes fortune and fate favour some over others.”

 “If you were anyone else, I’d have hexed you silent and bawling on the floor by now, Draco,” Harry growled.

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco answered, clearly bewildered.  “It’s not my fault if you’re jealous.”

 “This is hopeless,” Callidus cut in.  “I mean, this is Draco you’re talking to, Harry.”

Harry sighed.  “I know.  Believe me, I know.”

 “What does that mean?” Draco exclaimed irritably.

Harry ignored him.  “But Rowle on the other hand -” His green eyes were hard, “- She’s going to regret underestimating us.  We need to find a place we can practice, so we can show her just what we’re capable of.”  He knit his brow.  “I keep feeling like there’s this secret chamber I should be aware of.  I should spend more time looking for it.  I feel like it has something to do with snakes.”

Callidus frowned.  “Are you sure it isn’t just a dream?”

Harry shook his head.  “It doesn’t feel like a dream.  I know it’s there - somewhere in Hogwarts.  And I feel like it isn’t somewhere on the upper floors.  Merlin’s bloody beard!  I wish I could remember!”

 “Supposing it even is real, how are you going to have time to look for it between classes, ARMED, dueling club and Quidditch?  I mean, if it’s a secret room, it isn’t going to be easy to find,” Callidus pointed out.

 “I’ll figure something out,” Harry replied stubbornly.  “I’ll find it.”

Chapter Text

 “It’s kind of funny to see Draco and Hagrid together, isn’t it?  Do you remember last year, how much Draco hated visiting Hagrid for tea?” Harry reminisced.

It was a crisp October day and the trio were near Hagrid’s hut - in fact, Callidus and Harry were leaning against the fence that marked the edge of the dragon, Norberta’s, enclosure.  As for Draco, he and Hagrid were in the enclosure, excitedly chattering and tossing scraps of food towards the agile dragon.

 “How could I forget,” Callidus smirked.  “He’d spend the whole walk to the hut dragging his feet and whinging, and then get slobbered on by Fang.”

Harry grinned.  “Fang still slobbers all over him.”

They fell silent for a moment, watching as Draco praised Norberta for a ‘good catch’ as she flew up in the air to snatch up a piece of brandy soaked meat.  Norberta let out of huff of smoke, as though expressing her pleasure over Draco’s compliments.  Callidus wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.  Norberta seemed to love Hagrid the best, but Draco was a close second.  The dragon didn’t allow most other people to come anywhere near her.

 “It’d be nice if Draco was always this laid back,” Harry sighed.  “I think our ARMED meetings are getting to his head and he thinks he’s better at magic than he actually is.”

 “You’re only noticing now how annoying he can be?  You two bicker all the time,” Callidus remarked.

Harry laughed.  “We don’t really bicker . I mean, I know he can be stuck up, and all that pureblood stuff really gets to his head.  But I usually like Draco.  He makes life at Hogwarts a lot more fun.”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “Because he’s willing to go along with pretty much any prank you suggest?”

Harry grinned.  “That’s what being fun means, isn’t it?  So how is progress going on the potions anyway?”

Callidus and Harry rarely spoke of Callidus’s progress when Draco was around.  Callidus had opted to attempt Harry’s idea of the friendly-bomb - something that Draco scorned as being ‘weak.’  But the last thing Callidus wanted was to be expelled for creating something that did serious harm to people - and besides, a friendly-bomb was a fun project.

 “Well, I’ve tested the vapourization spell on numerous potions at this point,” Callidus informed him.  “Dosing is still an issue, and I have to make sure I cast a protective charm every time I test a potion.”

Harry laughed, his green eyes sparkling with humour.  “Yes, I remember that day you inhaled Calming Draught, and Draco kept saying things to get a reaction out of you, but you just gave him the dopiest looking smile.”

 “I wasn’t that bad,” Callidus defended.  “I just felt really - calm.  It seemed pointless to argue with Draco.”

Harry grinned.  “He got to the point where he said you were turning into a girl because you spend all your times with girls, and you just gave him this sleepy smile and said ‘yeah.’  Draco was speechless for about a full minute.”

  “Thank you for reminding me yet again of that humiliating moment,” Callidus drawled.  “I’m sure I would have forgotten if not for your bi-weekly reminders of the hilarity that ensued.”  Callidus shook his head as Harry chortled with amusement.  “Anyhow, you should have seen that rat I dosed with the friendliness potion that I’m trying to formulate.  It spent the whole time lying down and petting it’s own face.  I can’t quite tell if it was a success or not.”

Harry hummed.  “Sounds pretty successful to me.”  He grinned. “Could you imagine if people who were about to get into a fight just started to roll around on the ground, petting their own faces?”

Callidus smirked.  “That’s one way to stop a fight.  I do think the friendliness potion needs work - the potion I’m currently tweaking lasts for almost almost two days, which is a bit excessive.  The other issue is figuring the how to contain the potion and ensure that it vapourizes upon release.  I think that will be one of the more challenging aspects because of the potential interference of magic and the potion itself.”

 “How long do you figure it will -” Harry cut himself off and his eyes widened as he watched Draco and Norberta.  “Draco!  You almost got your hair singed off!  Are you okay?”

 “I’m alright!” Draco called back.  “Norberta just got a bit over-excited!”

 “She jus’ wants ter have a bit of fun, tha’s all,” Hagrid added, as he attempted to grab a hold of Norberta’s snout.  “Norberta loves Draco, don’ yeh, yeh big sweet lump!”  Hagrid proceeded to pet Norberta affectionately, ignoring the fact that his beard had been half singed away.

Harry shook his head.  “I don’t know how Draco can be so blind to how dangerous Norberta is.  I mean, I love her too - she’s amazing - but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s a huge, fire-breathing magical lizard.”

 “You wouldn’t know it the way Draco talks about her,” Callidus said wryly.

 “I know.  He talks about her like she’s a huge furless kitten.  Though from the way he describes how silky her scales are, she might as well have fur.”

 “So - like an ordinary kitten,” Callidus remarked with amusement.

 “Erm - something like that.  The point is that he’s completely biased when it comes to Norberta.”

Callidus looked over at Draco, who appeared as cheerful as ever, despite the fact that he was nearly roasted.  “I wonder how effective a friendliness potion would be on something like a dragon.”

Harry hummed.  “I wonder how effective it would be on someone who has the Orange Madness.  That’s where it would really be needed.”

Callidus shook his head.  “I can’t believe the newspapers are calling the disease the ‘Orange Madness.’  It sounds like - a promotional strategy for selling off out of season Chudley Cannon’s paraphernalia.”

Harry snickered.  “Yeah - for a serious disease, it does sound pretty stupid.  But I guess it makes sense because of the orange rash, and the fact that people go crazy and act all violent when they have it.  It too bad that they’re nowhere near finding a cure and have to put people in a magical stasis.  How long can a person stay alive in a magical stasis anyway?”

 “Quite a while,” Callidus answered.  “In theory, you could live your entire life in a magical stasis.  You’d still die a natural death.”

 “Huh.”  Harry fell silent and the pair of them watched Draco play with Norberta for a while.  “So -” Harry broke the silence, “should we head out and practice our ARMED spells tonight?”

Callidus looked towards the Forbidden Forest thoughtfully.  In the past couple of weeks, the trio had been spending more of their free time trying to find Harry’s supposed ‘secret chamber,’ but since they had had no luck, they had been sneaking out at night using the Camouflage Potion and practicing borderline Dark spells in the forest.  However, it was risky, and as they moved further into autumn, it was getting much colder.

In truth, since Draco was a pure-blood, he could have made use of the secret dueling room attached to the Slytherin common room.  But Draco had somehow rationalized the idea of sneaking out into the forest as somehow being an act of rebellion against Dumbledore’s ‘tyranny of Light Magic.’  As a result, Draco always joined them.

So far, no danger had ever befallen the trio.  Callidus wasn’t sure if it was because they never went too far into the forest, or if it was because the dangers of the forest were overstated.  Of course, he knew there were legitimate dangers in the forest - he had read all about centaurs and various other magical beasts.  But while the trio had been practicing spells in the forest, there had barely been a rustle.

Of course, there were other issues - there was the problem of Draco’s over-large ego, and the fact that he saw himself as the rightful supervisor of Callidus and Harry, talking down at them as though he were superior in ability and talent.  But because of Callidus’s and Harry’s dedication, and the desire to prove to Rowle that she was a fool for looking down on them, Draco’s help wasn’t actually needed.  It was just annoying, and no amount of mocking Draco seemed to stop him from his self-satisfied ‘teaching.’

 “It would probably be a good idea,” Callidus answered.  “It looks like it’ll be a clear night tonight, and we really need the practice if we don’t want to fall behind.”

 “Yeah,” Harry agreed.  “But it'll be so much better once we find that secret chamber I’ve been dreaming about.  And once we do, I'm not going to let stupid Rowle use it.”

Callidus looked over at Harry.  “I don't know how you can be so sure of this supposed secret chamber - especially if it’s based off a dream.  I mean, of course I believe Hogwarts still has a great deal of undiscovered secrets, but how do you know that we'll be able to get away with practicing all spectrums of magic there?”

Harry's expression was certain.  “I just know.”

That evening, the twins took their doses of Camouflage and Foot-silencing Potions and sneaked out of the castle.  Many of the Slytherins were aware that the trio (as well as various other Slytherins) ventured out at night.  None of them ever tattled because of the sense of unity and solidarity between Slytherins.  However, they still had to be careful because the information could have been used as blackmail.

The greatest danger within Hogwarts was usually Filch and Mrs. Norris or Peeves.  But Slytherins tended to have their own dungeon shortcuts and they made it out of the castle without incident.

 “Brr!  It’s cold!” Harry commented.

Draco looked over at him.  “It’s not that bad.”

 “That’s because your parents would only ever purchase the best for their precious heir and all your winter clothes have built in warming charms,” Callidus pointed out.

 “Then that’s your problem,” Draco answered.  “You two could have chosen bought your own clothes with warming charms.  It’s the most sensible thing to do.”

Callidus shook his head.  Since when did Draco care about being sensible?  Before long, they had reached the edge of the forest.  They only went far enough in so that their spells would not be spotted from the castle.  They might not have encountered any serious dangers so far, but why would they take the chance?

 “So today we’ll be practicing the variation of cold fire.  This spell is similar to bluebell flames, except that bluebell flames burn warm, while this spell burns icy cold - cold enough to kill living things if you’re dumb enough not to put it out,” Draco explained.

Harry huffed in aggravation.  “We know Draco.  We were there at the ARMED meeting.  We’re not deaf, you know.”

Draco crossed his arms.  “If you know so much, then let’s see you perform the spell.”

Harry scowled.  Pointing his wand at a spot on the ground, he uttered the incantation.  There was a weak beam of light, and a tiny spark of pale blue, but it quickly vanished.

 “It looks to me like you’d benefit from instruction,” Draco observed smugly.

 “If you’re so great, let’s see you perform the spell,” Harry countered.

Draco’s expression was less certain now.  But then, a look of stubborn determination crossed his face, and he attempted the same spell.  However, his effort was no better than Harry’s.

 “Ha!” Harry barked.   “See?  You’re hardly in any position to teach us.  Merlin, it’s just so annoying .”

 “Annoying?” Draco repeated, his cheeks flushing with ire.  “I try to help my own friends, and this is the thanks I get?”

 “We didn’t ask for your help!” Harry cried.  “We’re perfectly capable of doing magic by ourselves.  Ever since our first ARMED meeting, you’ve just been getting more aggravating!  You think you’re so much better than us.”

 “Enough!” Callidus cut in.  He couldn’t think of a stupider place to get into a fight than the Forbidden Forest.  “I’m sick this.  Either duel it out like wizards or cease your mutual displays of verbal asininity and just practice the bloody cold flame spell.”

Both Harry and Draco glared at him, but in the end, they grudgingly performed the spell.  Harry and Draco seemed determined not to speak to one another for the rest of the night, but although their conflict was annoying, Callidus was mostly relieved.  It was better for them to work out their issues anywhere other than the Forbidden Forest.  It was relatively rare for Harry and Draco to get into a serious quarrel.  But Callidus was sure that they’d work it out on their own later; hopefully somewhere far away from him.

By the time the trio returned to the castle, all of them were silent.  Callidus might have felt closer to Harry and Draco than he did to Hermione, Caiside and Ginny, but moments like these made him glad that he another group of friends he could escape to.  But if Callidus was hoping that Harry and Draco’s disagreement would be forgotten by the following day, he was proved wrong.  Callidus couldn’t help but sigh.  He should have known that with Draco’s ego, the blond wouldn’t be so forgiving.

Callidus ended up escaping to his Potions lab more often, letting Parkinson and Zabini take over the awkward job of making conversation in the Slytherin dungeons.  He was relieved when, a couple of days later, Harry and Draco had Quidditch practice, he could escape to see his Gryffindor friends who were hopefully acting a little more reasonably.

He was on his way to the library when, to his surprise, he met up with Caiside along one of the corridors.

He paused in his step and nodded at her as soon as she spotted him.  “Hello Caiside.  I would have thought you’d already be in the library.”

Caiside scowled.  “I just had detention with McGonagall.  For the entire week, in fact.”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “Oh?  Detention?  What did you do?”

Caiside crossed her arms, her dark eyes flashing angrily and her curls almost quivering in her state of aggravation.  “They deserved it!  Ugh!  It’s so unfair!”

 “They?”

 “The stupid Weasley twins!” Caiside burst out.  “They tease Ginny all the time, and since both of them have the emotional sensitivity of a pair of rusted thumbtacks, they fail to see how much it upsets her.   So , I decided that they should get a taste of their own medicine.”

 “What did you do?” Callidus asked, unable to suppress his curiosity.

 “I just left a clipping of the Virginia tickler plant in their beds.”

 “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Callidus pointed out.

 “I may have added some Accelerated Growing Potion to the clipping -”

Callidus’s eyebrows lifted upwards.

 “And the plant may have grown out of control and taken over their rooms and trapped the twins while they were sleeping so that by the time they awoke, they were completely tangled,” Caiside continued.

 “Merlin -” Callidus muttered.

 “Lee Jordan had to cut them free the next morning.  The twins might have been close to turning purple from laughing so hard -”

Callidus shook his head.  “You’re ruthless Caiside.  You’ve given me yet another reason why I should never get on your bad side.”

Caiside smirked.  “You’d do well to remember it.  I guess we better get to the library before Ginny talks Hermione’s ear off about Harry.”  Caiside shook her head.

Callidus snorted with amusement.

 “Though as annoying as that can be, I can’t imagine how Hermione survived last year.”

 “Last year?  What are you talking about?” Callidus queried.

Caiside gave him a look, as if he had just uttered something of unimaginable stupidity, and she was now reassessing her whole opinion of him.  “Tell me you’re not serious.”

 “What are you talking about?  What happened last year?  As far as I know, no one was trying to kill Hermione.”

Caiside’s expression became even more incredulous.  “Oh Merlin.  You are serious.  You have no clue, do you?”

Callidus felt his irritation began to grow.  “Must you always speak in such ambiguities?  Just tell me!”

Caiside gave him an assessing look that was surprisingly cold, and Callidus felt a sudden sense of unease.  He found himself wondering if he really wanted to know what Caiside was about to reveal.  But Callidus had never been one to shy away from knowledge, even if it was unpleasant.  He considered it a mark of intelligence to be able to handle difficult or upsetting information.

 “Well, as you may or may not be aware, Hermione didn’t really have many friends last year aside from you, Harry and Draco,” Caiside began.

 “Yes.  I’m aware.  Where are you going with this?”

 “Have you given any thought at all as to how that might have affected Hermione?” Caiside questioned.

Callidus furrowed his brows.  “Well, I’m sure it was hard at first, but she spent most of her time in the library anyway.”  Callidus really hoped this wouldn’t turn into some ridiculous talk about feelings .  The very notion made him want to cringe.

Caiside sighed heavily, as if she were talking to a particularly dull-witted infant.  “Yes.  Hard is one way I’d put it.  But I can see that you’re not getting what I’m saying.  Let me ask you this then.  Have you thought about what it would be like to be a Gryffindor and have no friends in Gryffindor and have your only friends be Slytherins ?  Or if that’s too difficult to grasp, think of what your life would be like if you had no friends in Slytherin, and spent all your time with only me, Ginny and Hermione.”

Callidus frowned.  “Hermione never told me she was having a hard time in Gryffindor.”

Caiside rolled her eyes.  “You really think she’s the sort of person who would spill out her feelings to you three?  Were you really that welcoming of her?”

 “We welcomed Hermione,” Callidus answered defensively.  “And besides, I would have thought that the noble and chivalrous Gryffindors would be above turning against one of their own lions.”

Caiside gave him a disbelieving look.  “What universe do you live in?  Have you met any of the Weasleys?  From the way Ron talks about the lot of you, I’d think that you must have had some personal encounters.”

Callidus narrowed his eyes.  “Ron Weasley has been bothering Hermione?  That particular weasel isn’t fit to lick the bottom of her boots.”

Caiside shrugged.  “It’s not like any of the girls are any better either.  Lavender and Parvati are vicious airheads who have spent the last year trying to completely smear Hermione’s reputation.  It’s obvious to anyone with half a brain that they’re jealous - I mean, I’ve heard them talking about how fit they think Harry and Draco are - and their taste is even questionable enough to think that you look all right - that is, whenever you bother to clean up your hair.  Anyway, it’s obvious that they can’t stand the fact that Hermione is friendly with the three of you.  Their only saving grace is that the rumours they’ve tried to start are too stupid to be believable.”

 “They talk about me?” Callidus asked, completely surprised by the idea.

 “Ugh!  Don’t get a big head about it.  They spend far more time talking about Harry.  And that’s not the point!  The point is Hermione.” Caiside gave him a hard glare.

A feeling of guilt arose in Callidus’s gut.  In truth, he hadn’t given much thought to how Hermione’s life was like.  He did recall her being upset last Hallowe’en, and then there was the weird incident with that Ravenclaw Lisa Turpin.  But Callidus had been preoccupied with his potions work, and with the strange occurances around the school.  How could he have known that things were so hard for Hermione?

Caiside, who seemed to have had read the expression on Callidus’s face, shook her head.  “Boys,” she muttered.  “You’re all so oblivious.”

They walked the rest of the way to the library in silence, but just before they entered, Caiside paused, and Callidus gave her a questioning look.  He already had enough of a weight on his emotions, and a part of him was expecting the worst.

 “Look, you’re not a bad wizard,” Caiside clarified, sounding more sympathetic.  “You’re actually all right, as far as wizards go.  It’s just - try and think about what it means to be a decent friend, all right?”

Callidus nodded.  With the conflict between Harry and Draco, the last thing he wanted to deal with was more friendship drama.  And he knew that Caiside was right - Hermione had always been a good-hearted person and she deserved to have good friends.

Chapter Text

If Callidus had thought that Harry and Draco’s issues would blow over, he was soon proven wrong.  During their Quidditch practices, when they theoretically should have been able to vent their more aggressive emotions, Harry and Draco had instead become more competitive against one another, amplifying their row.  It wasn’t awful - it wasn’t as if their friendship had snapped and they hated each other.  They were at least speaking to one another, but now, the underlying feelings of rivalry had intensified, whereas before, rivalry between Harry and Draco was almost non-existent.

Their conversation had become a bit sharper, and they needled one another much more than before.  And of course, since their main outlet was Quidditch talk, Callidus had to endure more discussions of Quidditch than ever, but now with a more combative undertone.  Callidus wished things could go back to how they were before.  The new competitive streak between Harry and Draco was a bit exhausting to endure.  On the other hand, he found himself appreciating Hermione, Caiside and even Ginny more than before.  Callidus didn’t know if it was because of the influence of Hermione, but the three Gryffindors tended to have pretty intelligent conversations.

Hallowe’en was soon coming up, and this year, the trio wouldn’t be practicing anything for Samhain.  The reason was because the 31st fell on the weekend, and Draco would be returning to Malfoy manor to celebrate with his family.  The same was true for many of the other pureblood Slytherins.  It was rather unusual for most students to return to their families for Samhain, but this year, there was a newfound sense of fear that had been spread by the Orange Madness disease.  Families wanted their children to be close by on important occasions like Samhain.  

If the trio’s relationship had been the way it was before their quarrel in the forest, then in all likelihood, Draco would have spent the past few days trying to cajole Callidus and Harry into coming with him and celebrating Samhain at Malfoy manor.  Instead, Draco spent his time talking about how much better it would be to celebrate a real wizarding holiday instead of a ridiculous muggle one.

 “We might not be celebrating Samhain but I warrant we’ll get a better selection of candy than you will, Draco” Harry pointed out, as he attempted to apply an even layer of fertilizer to his mandrake plant in Herbology.  It was their last class before the weekend, and most students were too excited about Hallowe’en to be doing a good job.  Thankfully, fertilizing mandrakes wasn’t dangerous.

 “Ha!  Have you seen the delicacies that we serve at the manor?  Nothing that they serve at Hogwarts can compare,” Draco retorted.

 “I’d take treacle tart over anything served at the manor.”

 “Your tastes are so plebeian,” Draco said with disdain.

 “Is this what you two’ve come to?” Callidus cut in with irritation.  “Having a disagreement over sweets?  Just duel it out so I don’t have to suffer any more of your churlishness.”

 “He’s the one who won’t shut up about how great everything is at the manor,” Harry objected.

 “It’s not my fault if you’re jealous,” Draco retaliated.  

 “Boys!” Professor Sprout interrupted, ambling over to check on their progress.  “How’s your mandrake coming along?  It looks like it could use a more even application of fertilizer on that side -” she gestured to one area of the pot covered by an overhanging leaf.  “The mandrakes need plenty of nutrients if they are to fully mature into healthy plants.”

“Yes, Professor Sprout,” the trio chimed, returning to their work.

Callidus was glad when the day was finally over.  Draco had no real need to pack for the weekend - he made use of the floo in Professor Slughorn’s office, and when he was gone, Callidus felt like a weight had been lifted.  While secretly, he thought that Harry was being just as belligerent  as Draco was, Callidus found it easier to deal with just one of his friends rather than both at the same time.

Because of Hallowe’en, the professors had been generous and had given a lighter-than-usual homework load to the students.  It meant that rather than studying and writing essays all weekend, Callidus and Harry had a great deal of free time.

 “What do you feel like doing today?” Harry asked after they had readied themselves and dressed the following day, which was Hallowe’en morning.

Callidus shrugged.  “I haven’t given it much thought.  Perhaps go to the library and study for a bit.”

Harry frowned.  “The library?  I wouldn’t mind seeing Hermione for a bit - it feels like we rarely get a chance to talk these days - but I refuse to spend my entire weekend in the library.  Hmm.  Why don’t we go looking for that secret chamber?  We’ve already explored pretty much every corner of the dungeon so we can start on the first floor.  I still can’t believe that Hogwarts dungeon has a real dungeon.  I guess it’s called the dungeons for a reason but still - seeing those cells and those chains was pretty creepy.”

 “Indeed,” Callidus agreed.  “I think what made it worse was that it was so clean.  One would think that they’re ready to lock someone up at any moment.”

 “Like people with the Orange Madness?” Harry suggested.

 “I’m fairly certain that there are rules against that sort of thing.  If anyone was affected, they’d just put them in a stasis and keep them in the hospital wing.”

Harry hummed.  “I s’pose you’re right.  C’mon.  Let’s get breakfast first, and then we can go exploring.”

The owl post was usually much less active on weekends than on weekdays so Callidus was surprised to see a letter landing next to his plate of food at breakfast.  It wasn’t from Wystan, but instead was from Madam Filodoxos.  Callidus wondered what his foster parent had to say.  He unfolded the letter and read it.

 “What’s that about?” Harry inquired between bites of toast.

 “It’s from Madam Filodoxos,” Callidus explained.  “Mostly just well-wishes for Samhain and a reminder to try the spells from the book that she gave me.”

 “Book?”

Callidus opened his mouth to reply, but then it occurred to him that Madam Filodoxos had told him not to speak of the book.  It seemed ridiculous - the spells in the book were Old and Dark Magics, but none of them were any worse than what they were learning in ARMED club.  He figured Madam Filodoxos was just trying to protect her own name.  

 “Yes,” Callidus explained, decided that Harry could definitely be trusted.  “A book on Old Magics.  Interesting stuff - we could probably learn some of the spells as part of ARMED.  I actually almost forgot all about it.”

 “Spells?” Harry perked up.  “Sounds interesting!  If it’ll give us an edge against Rowle, we should definitely try them out.”

Callidus nodded in agreement.  They finished their breakfast quickly, and set out to find Harry’s secret chamber.

While most people would consider exploring to be a fun activity, searching for secret chambers was much more tedious.  Callidus and Harry still discovered some interesting things about the castle (such as the disturbing sight of the cells within the dungeon), but for the most part, their searches led to dead ends.  On top of that, the first floor of Hogwarts was much more populated than the dungeons, and they kept receiving odd looks from students who were wondering what they were doing.  More than once, Callidus heard people whisper: ‘Those Slytherins are up to something.’  The one benefit to being a Slytherin in this case was that no one dared ask them any questions.

To make matters more challenging, even if there was a secret chamber, how could they reveal it?  What if a spell was required?  Or a certain gesture or ingredient or password?  For whatever reason, Harry was convinced that the password was extremely simple.  It didn’t make sense to Callidus, but Harry believed that all he needed to do was to tell the secret entrance to ‘open.’  Callidus had his doubts, but Harry just brushed them off.

They ventured from room to room, keeping their eyes out for anything unusual that might mark a secret entrance.  Callidus could hear Harry muttering: ‘open - open.  Open!’ repeatedly.  As for Callidus, he randomly tapped at the decorative stonework or the portraits with his wand.  Every so often, he would say ‘open’ to appease Harry, but he felt foolish doing it.  It was a bit of a relief when it was finally lunch, and they could take a break from talking to walls.  The idea of a secret chamber where they could practice any type of magic sounded fantastic, but Callidus would have been a lot more enthusiastic if he had the same feeling of certitude that Harry did.

As they ate their meal at the Slytherin table, Parkinson, who sat across from them complained about their absence.

 “What have you two been doing?” she demanded.  “It’s so boring with all of you gone.”

Callidus arched an eyebrow.  “You prefer to listen to Harry and Draco bicker?”

 “We don’t bicker,” Harry protested.

Parkinson laughed.  “Oh Harry.  You’re such a dear.  You and Draco are just so adorable.”

 “What do you mean ‘adorable?’” Harry asked hotly.  “I was going to tell you what we’ve been doing, but now I don’t think I want to.”

 “That’ll show her,” Zabini drawled before taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Callidus couldn’t help sighing.  Harry’s stubbornness could make him so childish at times.  “We’re looking for a secret chamber that will allow us to practice - magic.  Mostly to spite Rowle.”

Parkinson perked up.  “Spite Euphie?  Why didn’t you say so?  I’m almost inclined to help.”

Harry tilted his head.  “You’d help?  Really, Pansy?”

 “This sounds labourous,” Zabini observed.  “I wouldn’t get your hopes up if I were you, Harry.”

 “Labour?” Parkinson echoed distastefully.  “Oh Merlin, no.  Labour is for house-elves and the like.”

Zabini smirked.  “The lady hath spoken.”

 “But it’s fun !” Harry argued.  “And just think of all the things we could do if we had our own secret room where Rowle wasn’t allowed!”

 “Harry, learning people’s secrets and spending galleons is fun,” Parkinson asserted.  “Running around the castle poking at random holes - well - let’s just say that I’d rather leave that sort of fun to you.  But if you do find that secret room, I’ll be there to celebrate by your side.”

Harry blinked.  “Er - all right then.”

After they had eaten, Callidus and Harry decided they would continue their search for a couple more hours, but on their way out of the Great Hall, they bumped into Hermione, Caiside and Ginny.

Hermione smiled warmly.  “Oh, hello Callidus, Harry!”

 “Hello,” Callidus nodded, while Harry said a cheerful: “Hi!”

Callidus noticed Ginny had turned a bright shade of red upon seeing Harry, and her body language immediately changed to become shy and awkward.  Meanwhile, Caiside was giving Ginny a look and rolling her eyes.

 “How have you been?” Hermione asked.  “I feel like it’s been a while since we’ve last spoken, Harry.”

However, before Harry could reply, they were interrupted by a loud sound like a mix between a grunt and roar of frustration coming from the foot of the marble stairs across the entrance hall.  The group looked towards the stairs, and all of them jumped when a shrill scream cut through the air.

Because it was the lunch hour, there were a great deal of students coming and going, and none of them had an idea of what was going on.  But the screaming had caused a feeling of fear to ripple down their spines and many students were looking around in confusion, trying to get a sense of where the threat was coming from.  

There were shouts of confusion, and more screams, and Callidus thought he heard someone say: “It’s the Orange Madness!  It’s here at Hogwarts!”  Those words were enough to set off a full blown scene of pandemonium.  Callidus and Harry could no longer stay in place, but had been caught up in the mob of students, frantically shoving each other as they desperately sought some sort of safety.  As the students desperately tried to move away, Callidus caught sight of a brown-haired student near the stairs lunging at another student who was trying to ascend the staircase.  The student screamed, kicking the brown-haired student in a bid to escape, but whoever it was, they seemed impervious to the pain and instead, made another loud guttural sound.

Callidus could hear one of the students, probably a prefect, calling out: “Calm down!  Please, everyone!  Return to your common rooms!”  But the the words had no effect, and the prefect seemed to give up.  Students who had been eating were now pouring out of the Great Hall in confusion.  Some were trying to push their way up towards the stairs, while others were desperate to avoid it.  One of the students was claiming that the Great Hall wasn’t safe - another was saying: “No, look!  It’s here!  We have to get out of here!”

Callidus had lost sight of Hermione, Caiside and Ginny in all of the chaos.  He felt a moment of worry for them, but it was an effort to even remain near to Harry.  Both of them were still too shocked to be afraid.  All their energy was taken up by trying not to be overwhelmed by the crowd.  With the mass of students spilling out of the Great Hall, it took all of Callidus’s effort to weave past the crowd, towards the staircase that led down to the dungeons.

 “Who’s the one who’s infected?” Harry called out to Callidus.  “Did you see?”

But before Callidus could answer, he heard Dumbledore’s amplified voice calling out: “Students!  Calmly make your way back to your common rooms!”

Callidus wasn’t sure if Dumbledore had used any sort of magic, but the headmaster’s voice seemed to settle the crowd, and although the students still pushed, there was a feeling of order amidst the chaos and the students separated and made their way to their respective Houses.  Callidus managed to stay by Harry’s side and they followed the flow of students down to the Slytherin Dungeons, where a sixth year prefect awaited them, crossing their names off a list.

All around them, Callidus could hear the Slytherins talking in a panic.

 “Merlin - I can’t believe it’s here -”

 “Are you sure?  You’re sure it’s the Orange Madness?  I didn’t see anything.”

 “Circe, they never should have let mudbloods into this school!  This is all their fault!”

 “I heard that someone was killed -”

 “- definitely a mudblood -”

 “Why hasn’t Dumbledore done anything to stop this?”

 “I’m not staying here at Hogwarts any longer.  I refuse to stay at a school that admits those mudbloods!  They can’t keep me here!”

 “- can’t be the Orange Madness!  I refuse to believe it!”

 “They’re all going to be infected!  They’ll take us down with them!”

 “I saw it with my own eyes!  It was one of the second years, I swear!”

 “- blood everywhere -”

 “- practically turned into a rabid beast -”

 “It’s all the mudbloods’ fault!”

The atmosphere was becoming unbearable.  Callidus and Harry exchanged a look, and wove past the milling students, entering into the relative sanctuary of their dormitories.

 “Merlin, that was insane.  Did you see anything?” Harry questioned, once they were sitting on their beds.

Callidus frowned, feeling troubled, not only by the strange events in the entrance hall, but also the sentiments of the Slytherins.  “I saw one of the students attacking another student.  I think it was a Hufflepuff, but I’m not sure.  I don’t know who it was though.”

 “Do you really think it was the Orange Madness?”

Callidus shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know what happened.  But whoever that student was, he was acting strange and aggressive.  His behaviour seemed - unnatural.”

 “If we had the friendliness bomb, we could have ended things right then and there -” Harry mused.

Callidus felt suddenly defensive.  “The potion and vapourization work.  It’s the container that’s the difficult part.  I’ve been experimenting with various methods, but I only have so much time and resources.”

 “I’m not trying to say that you should have finished the project by now,” Harry clarified.  “It’s just - you know - it was kind of scary how quickly everyone panicked.”

Callidus pursed his lips.  “Yes.  Crowds can often have minds of their own.”

They spoke for a while longer, but eventually, they were interrupted by the entry of Zabini and Nott.

 “There you two are,” Zabini remarked.  “Did you hear about what happened?”

 “We saw some of it,” Harry answered.

Zabini’s eyes widened.  “You were there?”

 “We saw one student acting aggressively in the entrance hall,” Callidus informed him.

 “So it was the Orange Madness?” Nott queried.

Harry shook his head.  “We don’t know for sure.”

Zabini hummed.  “There’s a rumour going around that Lockhart was the one to take the infected student down.”

Callidus and Harry’s expressions were disbelieving.  “Lockhart,” Harry echoed flatly.

Zabini smirked.  “I know.  I highly doubt those rumours are true.  Flitwick and Dumbledore may have had a hand in helping out.  I heard that quite a number of students were injured, but I have a feeling that much of the fault of that is due to the madness of the crowd, and not the madness of the disease itself.”

 “Do you know who was injured?” Callidus wondered, worrying once again about Hermione, Caiside and Ginny.

 “I’m afraid not,” Zabini replied.

 “Does anyone know who the person is that initiated attacking?” Callidus asked.

Zabini shrugged.  “Most people here seem to think it’s a mu - muggleborn.  But some have claimed it’s a half-blood and one person seems to think it was a pureblood who was infected.”

Harry scowled.  “People seem to become really stupid when they’re scared.”

 “I won’t dispute that,” Zabini calmly agreed.

 “I surmise that it’s their survival instincts taking over,” Nott speculated.  “I’ve read about it of course, but it’s another thing to see it first hand.”

 “To be honest, I really hope that whoever it was isn’t a muggleborn.  If that -” Harry gestured to the door, “- is how people react based on a rumour - then -” Harry frowned.  

Callidus nodded.  “Yes - it’d be like a war within the school.  It would be bad.”

Nott frowned.  “That’s an - interesting perspective.”

Zabini raised his eyebrows.  “It wouldn’t hurt for you to pull your nose out of your books and take a look at the real world every so often, Nott.”

Nott shrugged.  “What can I say.  The world can be a pretty ugly place.”

Sadly, none of the other Slytherins could disagree with him.

Chapter Text

The following day, the mood at Hogwarts was sombre.  Due to the bizarre and frightening attack in the entrance hall, and the uncertainty of whether or not it was the Orange Madness, the students were subdued and mistrustful, not wanting to speak to anyone outside their closest circles.  Because of the alarming and confusing events, the Hallowe’en feast had been cancelled, and all the students took their meals in their common rooms.  The festive mood of Hallowe’en had quickly been ruined.

Wild rumours continue to abound, and the students became nervous about socializing in any of the common areas of the castle.  Everyone had heard that the disease was contagious, and although reports in the Daily Prophet were conflicting, most students preferred to err on the side of caution.

That day, Callidus and Harry debated whether they ought to stay in the Slytherin dungeons, or head up to the Great Hall for their breakfast.  Because they were half-bloods, many of the other students were already looking at them with suspicion, which was unsettling within their own house.  Both of them felt like they had to watch their backs at every moment.  However, if they did go up to the Great Hall, it would probably only make things worse.  The Slytherins might be suspicious now, but being amidst the other students would amplify that suspicion and turn it into assumptions.

There was something awful about feeling so restricted within Hogwarts.  It was so easy to forget the outside world while one was in school, but moments like this caused reality to burst through with merciless brutality.

In the end, Callidus and Harry remained within the common room and Hogwarts’ house-elves brought food down to the dungeons for the students to eat.  The house-elves came with not only food but with the mail as well.  Owls generally kept out of the dungeons, disliking the underground domain.  But after yesterday's strange occurrences, the school was inundated with letters from worried parents.

Both Callidus and Harry were surprised to see that they had received letters.  From Hermione, they received a note, letting them know that the three Gryffindors were fine, and to send word about their well-being since they had gotten separated after the chaos.  Callidus had received another letter from Madam Filodoxos that was fussier than the previous letter.  She reassured him that if he would prefer to stay in Wimbourne instead of Hogwarts, he was more than welcome.

And finally, both Callidus and Harry each got a letter from Draco.

Curious to see what Draco had to say, Callidus opened the letter, noticing how thick and expensive the parchment looked.

Callidus, the letter read, and Callidus was surprised by how rushed Draco's handwriting appeared.  It was almost as if he wrote the letter in a panic.

Are you and Harry all right?  Write me back IMMEDIATELY .  I heard that the disease affected a half-blood, and Merlin, it better not be one of you,

Draco

Callidus looked over at Harry.  “What did he say to you?”

Harry handed his letter over to Callidus, while Callidus gave Harry his letter.

Harry,

You better not have been infected by the disease.   WRITE ME AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS!  I'll never forgive you if you get sick and die,

Draco

 “Merlin,” Callidus muttered.  “He sounds - upset.”

 “To say the least,” Harry agreed.  “We better write him.”

After writing a letter to Draco and Madam Filodoxos as well as a note to Hermione, Callidus called for a house-elf to deliver the messages.

When that was done, Callidus and Harry were unsure of what to do.  In the end, though Harry disliked the whole idea, they ended up working ahead on their homework.

In the afternoon, Professor Slughorn came by the Slytherin dungeons to offer news.  The students swarmed around him, desperate for answers and Slughorn gently attempt to extricate himself from the masses.

 “Yes, yes, I understand that you're all worried.  Please quiet down for a bit and I'll tell you all I know,” Slughorn placated.  The students quieted down and looked towards their Head of House expectantly.

Slughorn looked from student to student.  “As I'm sure many of you are aware, we were struck by a rather unfortunate event yesterday, but you’ll be relieved to hear that the situation has been contained, and you are safe to leave the common room.”

 “What happened?” A student called out.  “Was it the Orange Madness?”

 “Well -” Slughorn looked slightly uneasy, and the lighting of the dungeon gave his complexion an almost sickly look.  “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

The Slytherins burst out in fearful concern and questions all at once, many of them demanding to know what was to be done.  Slughorn appeared overwhelmed, looking like a portly penguin in the face of a hoard of ravenous predators.  He raised his palms up as he attempted yet again to calm the students.

 “Now, now,” he said, with a slight tremulous note to his voice.  “No need to get so worked up.  Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey have assured us that the problem is well in hand.  No one has been seriously injured, and the infected student has been placed in a magical quarantine, which, as I’m sure you all know, cannot be penetrated by any pathogens.  Hogwarts has always prided itself on being one of the safest places in Britain, and that remains as true as ever.”

The students asked several more questions, which Slughorn did his best to answer.  But in the end, even if they did not feel entirely safe, they knew they couldn’t remain in the Slytherin dungeons forever.  

Slughorn’s information convinced several of the students that it would be worthwhile to leave the dungeons and visit other parts of the castle.  Wanting to know how Hermione, Caiside and Ginny were doing, Callidus and Harry decided that they would venture out.  It was better than being cooped up in the common room with a bunch of scared and paranoid Slytherins.

They searched the Great Hall first, which was much emptier than usual, and in the end, they found Hermione and the other two girls in the library.

 “We should have just searched the library first,” Harry opined.

 “Yes,” Callidus agreed.  “But - walking around the school at least gave us a sense of the general mood.  It’s a bit startling to see how quickly the fear and distrust has spread.  Though I suppose their fears are warranted.”

They walked up to Hermione’s table, and pulling up some extra chairs, they sat down.

 “I’m so relieved that you two are all right,” Hermione informed them after they all said their greetings.  “After we got separated in the entrance hall, I was afraid that you might have been injured in the crowd.”

 “There’s a lot of people in the infirmary because of it,” Ginny piped up.  But when she realized that her comment had caused everyone’s eyes to fall on her (or more specifically, Harry’s eyes), she turned a bright beet red and stared down at her hands, letting her hair fall across her face like a curtain.

 “How do you know?” Harry asked, doing his best to ignore Ginny’s abashed behaviour.

 “A lot of people didn’t end up returning to our common room,” Caiside told him, when it was clear that Ginny was now too shy and embarrassed to answer.

 “It caused a lot of panic in Gryffindor Tower,” Hermione explicated.  “People thought that the person who had been infected by the Orange Madness had injured all the missing people.  There was - well - an outcry about it.  Professor McGonagall had to explain that the infected student had really only minorly hurt two people, and the rest of the injuries were due to the crowd.  But that wasn’t until later.”

 “A couple of the older girls claimed that they saw someone falling and being trampled,” Caiside added.  “It sounded horrible.  And people were tripping and falling on the stairs, and such.”

 “Trampled?” Harry echoed, aghast.  

Hermione nodded, looking upset.  “I know.  It’s horrible, isn’t it?  I never thought I’d hear of something like that happening here at Hogwarts.  It was made worse by the fact that it happened around noon, and so many people were in the Great Hall.  It just exacerbated the situation.”

 “That and all the confusion,” Caiside agreed.

 “And now no one seems to dare associate with anyone in the other Houses,” Hermione added.

 “Have any of you tried speaking to any of the other students?” Callidus wondered.

The three girls shook their head.  “No,” Hermione answered, “But we’ve heard some of the other students talking about it.  Especially the students who have boyfriends or girlfriends in one of the other Houses.  There is apparently a lot of hostility.”

 “From what I’ve heard, the Ravenclaws aren’t as bad, but apparently the Hufflepuffs have really closed up,” Caiside elaborated.  “They say that the student who was infected was a Hufflepuff.”

Callidus hummed.  “Yes, from what I remember seeing, I thought it might have been a Hufflepuff that started attacking the other students.”

Caiside raised her eyebrows.  “You actually saw it?  It got chaotic so fast that none of us saw anything.  And by the time we were up the stairs the crowd was too thick to know what was going on.”

 “I didn’t see much,” Callidus admitted.  “Just someone with brown hair attacking another student.”

 “Ahh.”  Caiside and the rest of the group fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.

 “What d’you reckon would happen if the situation got worse?” Harry asked, his expression troubled.  “Would they close down the school?”

Hermione frowned.  “I believe they would have to.  If the situation got severe enough, I don’t see how they’d be able to contain it.  Especially with so many people confined to one structure, even if it is an immense structure.”

 “Merlin,” Harry muttered.  “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

The rest of the group nodded their heads in agreement.  It was a terrifying thought.

That evening, many of the Slytherins who had left for Samhain returned, but not all of them.  Callidus and Harry wondered whether Draco would be one of the students who would return; Narcissa Malfoy was extremely protective of her son after all.  It would have been strange to not see Draco again, and both Callidus and Harry were surprisingly relieved when Draco finally enter the common room.  Despite the dark mood in Hogwarts, seeing their friend/brother lightened both their moods.

 “Draco!” Harry called out brightly when he spotted the blond, who walked over to their spot in the common room, and flung himself on the sofa next to Harry.

 “Merlin!” Draco expressively exhaled.  “I can’t believe someone was infected with the Orange Madness while I was gone.  No one seemed to know anything except that it was either a muggleborn or half-blood, and that they were one of the younger students. There were so many conflicting rumours.  Is it true that there’s over twenty people in the infirmary?”

 “Uhh - I don’t think so,” Harry answered.  “But no one knows for sure.  But most of the injuries were because of the crowds.”

 “Oh.  I thought they had been viciously mauled or something,” Draco admitted.  “My mother didn’t want me to come back, but I told her I wanted to, and in the end, my father sided with me.  Thankfully.  I told her that if it gets bad enough, I’ll return to the manor anyway.  And you two should come with me if it happens.  There’s no way I’d leave Hogwarts again without you.”

 “You sounded rather panicked in your letters,” Callidus remarked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Draco scowled.  “Well, why wouldn’t I be?  You’re my friends - well - brothers.”

Harry grinned and nudged Draco’s shoulder with his own.  “It’s just nice to know that you care.  Besides, we care about you too.”

Draco flushed pink all the way to the tip of his ears.  

Callidus snickered.  “You’re embarrassing him, Harry.”

 “I’m not embarrassed,” Draco protested.  “Well - I’m embarrassed for you two for being such - such girls about the whole thing.”

Callidus and Harry exchanged glances before smirking.  But both of them were glad that Draco was back and no longer acting like a prickly bundle of wounded pride.

 “Anyway, how was your Samhain?” Harry inquired.  “They cancelled the Hallowe’en feast here.  But the house-elves brought food to the common room so at least I still got to have my treacle tart.”

Draco proceeded to tell them about his Samhain in rather elaborate detail, describing how it was so much better than any muggle tradition could hope to be.  Callidus and Harry just made polite noises of agreement.  But eventually, Draco changed the topic and Callidus perked up with interest.

 “There were quite a number of my father’s associates visiting, so news didn’t reach us until we had finished the main ceremony,” Draco told them.  “It was quite a surprise when owls began to show up carrying letters from Hogwarts.  That’s how we found out about someone being infected with the Orange Madness, by the way.  After my father heard about the stuff that’s been happening at Hogwarts, he later mentioned that he’s drafting up a new bill.”

 “A new bill?  About what?” Callidus asked.

Draco shrugged.  “Something about muggleborns.  I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Callidus frowned.  “You weren’t paying attention.  Why did you even bring it up then?”

 “I wasn’t paying attention because it was boring ,” Draco said defensively.  “Besides, I had other things on my mind, like whether the two of you were still alive.  And I thought I’d bring it up because of how much good my father’s last bill did.”

Callidus arched his brow.  “So you just wanted to brag about your father.”

Draco shot him an irritated look, but before he could say anything, Harry spoke.   “The Orange Madness hasn’t actually killed anyone.”

 “Yet,” Draco added pessimistically.

 “You don’t remember anything your father mentioned about this bill he’s writing?” Callidus prodded.

Draco huffed.  “I don’t remember much.  There might be something like a - hm - list or something.”

Callidus frowned.  “A registry?”

Draco made an impatient noise.  “Something like that.  I think.  I don’t know - why don’t you just ask my father yourself if you’re so interested?”

 “Frankly, I’d rather not.  If it is a registry -” Callidus knit his brows, “hm.  The idea is a bit disturbing.”  Callidus found himself thinking about Dumbledore and how the old man had spoken about people being demonized and turned into scapegoats.  Surely it wouldn’t go that far, would it?  And yet, Callidus could see it happening.  

 “What’s so bad about keeping track of people on a list?” Draco scornfully questioned.  “If it keeps us safe, isn’t that more important?  I think my father knows what he’s doing.”

 “I’m sure he does,” Callidus drawled.

 “How does people being on a list keep anyone safe?” Harry pondered.  “What kind of list would it even be?”

 “I don’t know!  I really wasn’t paying that much attention!” Draco exclaimed.

 “Would they only be keeping track of victims?  Or would it be broader, such as tracking muggleborns?” Callidus mused.

Harry raised his eyebrows.  “A list to track muggleborns?  But they know that the disease doesn’t only affect muggleborns - there’s been several half-bloods infected too.”

 “Yes, but there are people out there who would be all too happy to know where each and every single muggleborn in Britain is,” Callidus pointed out.  “It wouldn’t surprise me if they used the fear that this disease has generated to try and push through a registry like that.”

 “What would they even do if people’s names were on a registry?”Harry asked.

Callidus’s expression became pensive.  “Well, after Hermione told me about the last major epidemic in 1918, I started reading a bit about it.  For a time - almost a decade, I think - they put all known squibs on a list.  When the epidemic became more severe, people found out where the squibs lived, and would cast hexes and curses at them, or use spells like bombarda or other blasting and exploding curses to damage their homes.  People tried to forcibly remove squibs from wizarding society.  And not only that, but their children were harassed as well.  Squibs couldn’t find work anywhere, and weren’t permitted into shops.  It was - well - a bad time to be a squib.”

Harry blinked.  “Wow.  That’s -” he frowned, “- awful.  Really terrible.”

Draco scowled.  “I’m sure they don’t mean to do that.  It’s probably just going to be a list of people already infected.”

 “Frankly, I don’t think they should even be making a list at all,” Callidus opined.  “They’re better off focusing on just finding the cure.”

 “Yeah, but until then, they need a way to keep people safe,” Draco answered stubbornly.

Callidus could tell that Draco wouldn’t be swayed - especially since Draco tended to think that his father could do no wrong.  Not wanting to cause conflict so soon after Draco returned, Callidus shrugged and changed the topic.  As Draco had said, he hadn’t really been paying attention to what his father was saying.  There was no sense getting worried if it turned out to be nothing.

Chapter Text

In the days that followed, the feelings of fear and edginess began to subside, and Hogwarts started to feel a bit more normal.  The students that had been injured in the crowd were all released, and when questioned, most of them admitted that they hadn’t seen the infected person.  But of the two people who actually had been attacked by the infected person, they had told their friends of terror of that event, and those friends in turn told other people.  When the Hogwarts students were comfortable enough to speak to those in other Houses, the gossip spread even faster.  The incident had been likened to a werewolf attack, which had only increased the students’ feelings of horror towards the disease.

Though the professors had remained hushed about the whole subject, the students soon learned that the infected had been a half-blood Hufflepuff named Wayne Hopkins.  The trio remembered the boy from some of their classes, but they hadn’t really spoken to him.  Nonetheless, the confirmation that the infected was someone in their year, and someone they had personally encountered, was disturbing.

Rumours abounded.  How had the pathogen entered Hogwarts and how had Hopkins gotten ill?  Was it somehow his own fault, like many of the Slytherins insinuated?  Or was Hopkins blameless, like the Hufflepuffs maintained?  It was all anyone wanted to talk about.  Many of the students fervently hoped that the issue wasn’t serious.  It was easier to believe that the adults had the matter under control.  But there were many other students - mostly Slytherins - who were eager to spread fears and paranoia.  One of the most prevalent beliefs was that it was Dumbledore’s fault.  The most bigoted and fear-mongering Slytherins were all too happy to tell their pureblood friends that the muggle-loving headmaster was dooming them all.  After all, it was Dumbledore’s fault that muggleborns were allowed in a prestigious school like Hogwarts.

Of course, Callidus and Harry did not subscribe to such beliefs.  Anyone who paid attention to the news would have known that the situation outside of Hogwarts was pretty bad.  It was obvious that the disease couldn’t be contained indefinitely, and it made more sense to hope for a cure, rather than sticking one’s head in the sand and hoping the disease wouldn’t come to Hogwarts.  Draco, however, was a different story.  It wasn’t so much that he meant to antagonize muggleborns.  But he had been listening to anti-Dumbledore sentiments all his life.  Naturally, Draco would be all too pleased to blame the headmaster for anything, if given the chance.

Callidus and Harry knew not to take Draco too seriously.  But both of them found that the atmosphere in Slytherin had become incredibly uncomfortable.  They were made sharply aware of this at their next ARMED meeting.  As soon as they entered the classroom, they could see that the purebloods had congregated to one side, leaving the half-bloods (or friends of half-bloods) on the other.  Euphemia Rowle, unsurprisingly was on the pureblood side.  She did not even make an effort to appear impartial, despite being the leader of the club.

 “Of course the disease would affect mostly muggleborns and half-bloods,” a pureblood fifth year disdainfully remarked.  “Their blood is already filthy - is it any surprise that it would only get dirtier?”

 “Ian!” Rowle gently scolded, batting his arm.  “You know that it’s inappropriate to say such things in front of them.”

 “You’re too nice, Euphie,” a sixth year commented.  “What’s wrong with telling the truth?”

 “Some of them are sensitive ,” Rowle replied.  “We can’t have their little feelings hurt, now can we?”

 “Do they really have feelings?” Greengrass queried.  “They’re all so boorish!  I would have thought that their contamination would have rendered them unable to feel.”

 “It’s one thing to feel,” a fourth year answered.  “It’s another matter entirely to perceive the subtleties of proper interaction.  After all, even animals can feel.”

 “Ah, of course,” Greengrass nodded, as if what the fourth year had said was a gem of wisdom.

Callidus narrowed his eyes at Greengrass.  He suddenly found himself wondering why he had decided to avoid conflict with her all year.  Because at the moment, he would have been happy to use any number of Dark spells on her.  Unfortunately, now was not the moment to cut down her overblown ego - not when they were surrounded by antagonistic purebloods.  But regardless of their blood status, they were all still Slytherins.

Soon, all the club members had arrived, and Rowle called for everyone’s attention.  “Hello everyone.  Last week, we had all of you -” Rowle tittered, “well, almost all of you - working on animal influencing spells.  While it’s true that such spells are not as useful now as they once were, they are always useful to learn.  We may not be living like druids anymore, but we are still surrounded by familiars and other such creatures.  And of course, if any of you find yourself in the unfortunate situation of getting lost in the woods, you’ll have such spells to aid you.  I don’t need to remind most of you but - well - some of you may not be aware of this, so it bears mentioning.  It’s important to know that using these spells to try and affect the owl post is strictly illegal.  I know, I know - it’s so obvious , but some of you have not had the benefit of proper education about such things..”

Callidus and Harry frowned, resenting Rowle’s condescending methods.  She favoured the purebloods so strongly, but instead of being direct with her biases and prejudices, she preferred to be passive aggressive.  The boys would have quit the club ages ago, but the magics that they were learning in ARMED were unlike anything else taught at Hogwarts.  It was, in truth, a one-of-a-kind opportunity.

 “Today, we’ll be moving on to another fascinating type of ancient magic,” Rowle lectured.  “Like animal influence, this is considered a branch of Earth Magics.  These methods have largely fallen out of favour because certain people who were not born in the magical world, often find these methods offensive.  It’s truly awful, really.  Earth Magics are powerful, powerful forms of magic, albeit difficult to control.  Even muggles knew how dangerous and awesome such magics were.  Many of them tried to mimic it but failed.  They were afraid of our powers, and it was what led to the witch burnings.”

 “But at least they were stupid enough to mostly burn their own kind,” one of the older students pointed out.

Rowle chuckled.  “Yes - very stupid.  What we’ll be discussing today is sensory enhancement magic.  I’m sure you can guess what sensory enhancement magic entails - any sort of magic that alters the senses; not only sight and sound, but taste, smell and touch as well.  These magics don’t necessarily always improve one’s senses - there are offensive variants that can be used to blind your opponents, or make them think that their skin is burning, for example.  It’s a very broad and fascinating field.”

The trio shared a look.  This form of magic sounded like the sort of thing that could be used in innumerable pranks.  As much as Callidus and Harry disliked Rowle, they found themselves leaning closer to listen.

Rowle explained more about sensory enhancement spells, but all throughout her talk, she never failed to jab at the supposed inferiority of anyone with less than pure blood.  Not only that, but she also had a tendency to veer off into tangents about people she knew, speaking as if she assumed everyone knew them as well.  Callidus suspected it was intentional.  She seemed to like to find ways to exclude the half-bloods, while acting innocent about her own behaviour.

 “The Selwyn’s really took advantage of this at their summer solstice fete back in ‘89.  Does anyone remember that?”

 “It was incredible!  They were the talk of society for months after!  And I suppose we’re still talking about it now,” a sixth year chimed in.

 “Anyone who was anyone was invited,” a seventh year drawled.  “I pity anyone who wasn’t at Selwyn’s fete.  It was a fantastic display of magic.  Truly remarkable.  There have been so many copycats since.”

Rowle nodded.  “Yes, who would have thought to use a night vision spell the way they did?”

 “What is she talking about?” Harry whispered to Draco.  “The Selwyn fete?”

Draco frowned.  “I was a bit too young to attend, so I only heard about it.  But my parents went.  They had created decor and as well as a magical display that was, at the time, unique.  My parents said it wasn’t that impressive.  It was more flashy than anything.”

 “But what was the decor?  And display?” Harry wondered.

 “As the guests entered the entrance hall, their manor had appeared quite plainly decorated,” Draco quietly explained.  “People were less than impressed - my parents said it was all just part of the showmanship of the fete.  But in order to enter the ballroom, a night vision spell had to be cast.  The guests entered into a seemingly pitch black room, but with the spell, it was as clear as day - except different of course, since it was dark.”  Draco’s expression became wistful.  “I wish I could have seen it.  Though my parents said I wasn’t missing too much.  I’ve been to some parties after that tried to mimic the effect.  When you see it for the first time -” Draco’s eyes shone,  “well - it’s like entering a completely different world.”

Rowle’s voice cut into their conversation.  “So as you can imagine, sensory enhancement spells have many applications, and with a bit of imagination, you can create some rather amazing things.  Here on the table are some readings I would suggest.  For the more experienced of you, I would suggest full-body spells - there’s an interesting one that allows you to visually sense lifeforms from any side of your body, offering something like 360 degree vision.  For the less experienced, it would be safer to attempt spells related to only sight or sound alone.  Those ones are much more basic.”

With that, Rowle finished her talk, and the Slytherins made their way to the table to look over the various spells.

 “I wish she wouldn’t spend half the time talking about people we don’t even know,” Harry muttered, giving Rowle a dark glare.  “It’s like she tries to spend every single possible moment making us feel like we don’t belong.”

Draco gave him a puzzled look  “What are you talking about?  Selwyn’s are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.  Everyone knows the Selwyns.”

Harry rolled his eyes.  “I know of the Selwyns.  Everyone knows of the Selwyns.”

 “Everyone in Slytherin, that is,” Callidus corrected.  “I highly doubt the Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors would know, unless they personally know a Selwyn.  They probably don’t even know what Sacred Twenty-Eight stands for.”

Draco snorted.  “Of course those ignorant fools wouldn’t know.  They know nothing about pureblood culture.  They’ve probably never even heard of the pureblood directory.”

 “The point is,” Harry cut in,  “I can’t stand Rowle.  If she didn’t keep the books locked away, I would just skip these stupid meetings and read the books instead.”

Draco shook his head.  “You’re just being paranoid.  Euphemia has never been less than polite.  And earlier, when Jenkins was saying all those things about muggleborns and half-bloods, Euphemia stopped him.”

 “Were you even listening to her?” Callidus questioned Draco, wondering how the blond could be so oblivious.  “She said didn’t say that his words were inappropriate.  She said it was inappropriate to say those words in front of us.  Implying that she agrees with him that she thinks half-blood and muggleborn blood is filthy.”

 “I don’t think she implied anything,” Draco stubbornly answered, crossing his arms.  “If she really hated half-bloods, she never would have allowed you into the club.”

Harry narrowed his eyes.  “I’m pretty sure she tried.  She just failed.  Ugh - this whole discussion is pointless anyway.  You just don’t get it, Draco.”

 “I get that you and Callidus just want to whinge about how unfair you think Euphemia is being, even though she’s been extremely generous by letting anyone into the Slytherin faction of ARMED.”

Harry’s expression darkened.  Callidus had a bad feeling that his friends would once again devolve into petty fighting.  But somehow, Harry managed to rein in his rage.  

 “Forget about it,” Harry muttered.  “Let’s just see what kind of spell we should try this week.”

The older students were crowded around the table, and to Callidus’s and Harry’s annoyance, they were mostly chatting with one another rather than actually looking at the books.  The trio managed to squeeze their way through, and riffled through the pages, trying to find an interesting spell to practice and learn.  As Callidus looked over the various spells (some written with such ornate calligraphy styles that they were almost illegible) it occurred to him that he had seen some similar spells in the book Madam Filodoxos had given him.  He resolved to take a closer look at the book later.

Eventually, the club members dispersed.  Not wanting to bicker, Harry and Draco started talking Quidditch, so Callidus tuned them out, thinking about Madam Filodoxos’ spellbook.  His mind drifted, and he found himself wishing he had access to a lab like Madam Filodoxos’ again.  With a lab like that, he was sure he could finally solve the problem of how to effectively contain his vapourized potions.

Suddenly, an idea hit him and he paused in his step.  Harry and Draco gave him a questioning look.

 “Cal?”

Callidus blinked and looked towards Harry.  “I just thought of something for my potions work.  A really basic step I missed.”

 “Oh,” Harry answered, “Okay.”

When they returned to their dormitory for the night, Callidus quickly pulled out a parchment and wrote a letter to Madam Filodoxos.  As someone who worked with potions for a living, there might be a chance that she would know about alternative methods for containing potions.  Of course, he didn’t tell her that his goal was to create a prank-related item - obviously she didn’t need to know anything like that.  But if she could offer some clue, it would mean a great deal of time and effort saved.

Once he finished the letter, he pulled out the spell book that his foster mother had given him.  As he flipped through the pages, he spotted a spell that promised ‘vision as sharp as an owl’s’ for a temporary period of time.  He looked over the steps needed, and a grin spread across his face.  It sounded like an amazing spell, and he quickly showed Harry and Draco who agreed that they would try it the following night.

The next day, Callidus sent off his letter early in the morning, before breakfast.  Harry had decided to tag along, since he wanted to see his owl Hedwig, but Draco had been in a lazy mood and wanted to sleep in.  It was a good chance for them to discuss Callidus’s progress on his potions.

 “I’ve finished the preliminary tests of the friendliness potion on rats,” Callidus informed Harry as they climbed the stairs to the owlery.  “I have a good sense of the dosages now, but the potion still needs to be tested on humans.”

 “You should have told me you were doing tests on rats,” Harry whinged.  “I really wanted to see it.”

Callidus smirked.  “They were, admittedly very cuddly.  I’ve never seen the appeal of having rats as pets or familiars, but after they had been dosed, I admit they were - endearing.”

  “You should have brought them back to the common room.”

Callidus gave him an incredulous look.  “And have the focus of all the girls antagonism?  Because an affectionate rat isn't quite on the same level as - say - an affectionate cat.”

 “Then what about toads?” Harry challenged.

 “There's only one girl who even has a toad and she's a fourth year that everyone is afraid of, even if they won't openly admit it.”

Harry hummed.  “Then what about snakes?”

 “Snakes are a highly respectable creature,” Callidus answered.  “And if anyone in Slytherin admits to fearing them, then they’re fools.  That said, I imagine there are more people who don’t like snakes than they would openly care to admit.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but then an odd look crossed his face.  However, Callidus didn’t notice.  They had reached the top of the stairs and Callidus called for one of the school owls, and told it that he wanted his letter sent to Madam Filodoxos.  Then he looked over at Harry.

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “I thought you wanted to come along to see Hedwig.”

Harry started.  “Oh.  Yeah.  Hedwig!”  The snowy owl swooped down from her perch and landed on Harry’s arm, and he gave her a gentle scratch on the head.

 “What was on your mind just then?” Callidus inquired.

 “Hmm?  Oh.  I just thought I remembered something from a dream.  Something about snakes, I think.  It was weird.”

 “At least it wasn’t another dream about trying to find that secret chamber you keep mentioning,” Callidus remarked.  “I always think you’re having a nightmare when you have those dreams.”

Harry’s brows creased.  “The thing is, the snake dream felt a lot like those secret chamber dreams.  I can’t fully explain it - it’s not bad.  Just -” he shook his head, “- I don’t always feel like I’m myself.”

Callidus shrugged.  “But that’s pretty normal for dreams, isn’t it?  I rarely feel like myself in my dreams.”

Harry gave him a weak smile.  “I guess you’re right.”

Harry gave Hedwig a treat before they headed down to breakfast where they joined Draco.

The day passed by rather quickly.  They had had Transfigurations, which Harry continued to do very well in.  Though it was hard to be certain, Callidus almost got the impression that Harry might be Professor McGonagall’s favourite student in Slytherin.  Harry almost always earned points of Slytherin House because he was usually the first to successfully transform his objects or animals.

As for History of Magic, that was as boring as ever.  Draco and Harry were quietly snickering as they doodled animated pictures of the Gryffindors falling off their brooms in Quidditch, while Callidus attempted to be productive and work on a paper from one of their other classes.

The trio spent the late afternoon and evening working on homework, and looking over various other spells in Madam Filodoxos’ book.  And before long, students were starting to venture off to bed.  Once it was past curfew, the trio took their Camouflage Potion, and sneaked out of the castle.  The nights were starting to get chillier, but it was easy for the boys to ignore.

 “You remembered to bring all the ingredients right?” Harry asked Callidus.

Callidus nodded.  Many ancient spells were hybrids of potions, wand magic and rituals.  For the particular spell that the trio wanted to attempt, they needed an owl feather, an herb called eyebright, and some blood.  Callidus had also brought a small bowl for mixing the materials.  They made their way to the forest, entering only far enough so that their wand light would not be seen.  

Callidus pulled out the bowl, and sprinkled in the eyebright, which he then crushed with a stone, followed by pouring in the blood.  Old forms of magic were fascinating, but he could see how such methods would seem disturbing to those from the muggle world.  Using the owl feather, he stirred the mix.  

After thirteen stirs clockwise and seven stirs widdershins, he beckoned Harry and Draco to come closer.  With the blood-tipped owl feather, he painted a streak on Harry's and then Draco’s eyelid.  He then handed Harry the feather and had his own eyelids painted.  Harry set the owl feather back in the bowl.  Draco murmured “nox” and the trio were plunged into darkness. Callidus and Harry pulled out their wands and the trio uttered the incantation to activate the spell.  Callidus watched his friends/brothers with interest and noted the way that the blood seemed to seep into their skin and disappear.  His eyes widened when the world around him suddenly became startlingly bright and clear.

 “Merlin!” Harry exhaled once he had gotten his bearings.  “Look at how sharp everything is!  Look!  You can see the individual legs of the ants in that tree!”

Callidus and Draco looked to where Harry was pointing.  Their minds were overwhelmed with awe with how remarkable everything appeared.  With owl-like vision, the world wasn't more vibrant with colour.  But it was as though they could see every little detail from the smallest fleck of soil to the tiniest veins in the tree leaves.

   “This is amazing!” Draco exclaimed.  “Could you imagine if we were on our brooms?  We’d be able to see so far!”

Harry nodded in agreement, grinning brightly.  From the corner of his eye, Callidus spotted movement, and noticed a snake slithering through the underbrush.  His eyes tracked its sinuous motions.  There was something surreal about being able to so clearly see what they ordinarily wouldn't notice.

 “Hey, what's that?” Harry asked.  Callidus and Draco followed the direction of his look.  From the side of a tree, they noticed what looked like transparent rippling, like the wavering air above a fire.  The trio walked towards the tree and saw a beetle climbing up the side.

Callidus furrowed his brows.  “I'm not entirely certain, but I think that's a magical species.  I don't know what that rippling around it is.”

 “Could it be - magic?” Harry speculated.

 “But then, shouldn't we see it around each other?” Callidus pointed out.

Harry hummed.  “Wait - let's back up.  Maybe we're standing too close to one another to notice.”

Callidus and Draco nodded, and they separated in different directions.  When Callidus turned around to look at his friends/brothers, he could now see that there was the same rippling around them, but it had a much wider radius than the beetle.  It was very obvious, now that they were standing further from one another.

 “Merlin - do you see that?” Harry called out to them.  “It's all around you!  Could it really be magic?  Is this how owls are able to find us?”

 “I don't know,” Callidus answered.  “The book didn't mention this. In fact, I don't think I've read any books that mention being able to see magic.” Callidus looked down at his arm.  “I can't see it around myself.”

Not wanting to awkwardly call to one another, they converged in the center.  Harry knit his brows.  “I've heard about auras and stuff.  Could this be like that?”

 “Wystan mentioned auras in his last letter - or magical signatures, I suppose.  But I assumed that they had tools to measure that sort of thing,” Callidus mused.  “It didn’t occur to me that people would try and study magical signature by actually looking at them.”

 “What do you think Draco?” Harry asked.  Callidus looked over at Draco, and with his enhanced vision, Draco's expression was easily seen.  He looked indecisive, as though something was on his mind.

Callidus gave him a suspicious look.  “Do you know something?”

Draco fidgeted.  “Well -”

 “Well what?” Callidus demanded.

Draco shot him an irritated look.

 “Tell us Draco!” Harry pleaded.

Draco's irritation faded into uncertainty.  “Well - it's something that purebloods are aware of.  But I'm not really supposed to talk about it because it's - hm - my father says that the more people who know about it, the more likely it is to be abused.”

Callidus and Harry gave him a look that said: 'continue.’

Draco furrowed his brows.  “I don't know much.  Only that it's possible to see magic.  Witches and wizards have been trying to find a way to make magic more visible, but there hasn't been much success.  We have a couple of really ancient grimoires that claim that it's possible to see magic in full colour.  I don't know of anyone who can do that though.”

Callidus and Harry exchanged a look.

 “What else haven't you told us?” Callidus interrogated.

 “I don't know!” Draco burst out.  “I don't keep these things on the top of my head.  I hadn't even thought about seeing magic until today.” Draco gave Callidus a dark look. “You're so annoying,” he muttered.

Callidus rolled his eyes.  

 “Hey, look!”. Harry's words broke the moment of tension.

Callidus and Draco turned to look deeper into the Forbidden Forest and they were suddenly aware of how much the air appeared to waver.  Callidus wondered how he had even missed it in the first place.  Now that he was aware of what he was looking for, it seemed obvious.

 “There must be a lot of magic in there,” Harry murmured.

Callidus agreed, but then a movement caught his eyes.  He squinted trying to make out the shapes.  His vision may have been sharp, but that didn't mean he could identify everything in the darkness of the forest.

But as he kept looking, he saw the movement again.  A feeling of uneasiness made his mouth go dry and his breathing became shallower.

 “What is that?” Draco asked.

 “Maybe we should head back to the castle,” Harry suggested, and Callidus could hear the edge of anxiety in his voice.

Callidus and Draco readily agreed and turned towards the castle.  None of them made a comment about the quickness of their pace.  All they knew was that their instincts were telling them that something was wrong.

A branch snapped behind them, and the trio looked backwards.  With their enhanced vision, they could clearly see the looming form of a hideous multi-legged creature.  It was a spider - an enormous acromantula that was taller than they were.  Its beady black eyes were as bright as polished onyx, and it was covered in spiny hairs all over its body.

 “Run!” Harry cried.  The word snapped Callidus and Draco out of their shock and they pumped their legs, dashing towards the edge of the forest towards Hogwarts.  Though they tried to stay close to one another, they still had to swerve around trees and shrubs that obstructed their path.

They were nearly out of the forest when another acromantula jumped down from a tree in front of them.  Callidus cried out, and he was distantly aware that Harry and Draco had done the same.  The trio ended up splitting in two directions, with Harry and Draco going one way while Callidus went the other.  

Callidus leapt over a fallen log and wove through the trees.  He peered over his shoulder and to his horror, the spiders were still following him, moving with startling agility.  They did not just scramble on the ground, but seemed to spring against the trees, easily leaping over shrubs.

His mind ran through the list of spells he could use.  Could he try a cutting spell?  Or call up a mist to block their vision?  He didn't even know how sharp the acromantulas’ vision was.  And unfortunately, the Slytherins had not been learning offensive spells in ARMED - at least not yet.  He pointed his wand and shouted: “ diffindo !” The spell slashed the giant spider’s leg but did not cut the whole way through.  The spider didn't even slow its pace.

Callidus finally managed to break through the trees onto the grassy lawn surrounding the school, but if Callidus had been hoping that the acromantula wouldn't follow, his hopes were quickly crushed.  The giant spiders seemed to think that a tasty human meal would be worth the risk of venturing into the open.

Callidus’s lungs and legs were burning but he didn't dare to slow his steps.  As his arm brushed against his robe, he was suddenly aware of a lump in his pocket.  It was the pouch of seed pods that Caiside had given him!

He frantically tried to reach his pocket, but the billowy nature of his robes made it challenging.  Callidus cursed his luck.  Finally, he managed to get a hold of a pod.  He looked behind him and flung the pod at the closest acromantula.  The pod burst open, and the acromantula momentarily faltered.  Not knowing what was happening, it decided to continue pursuing Callidus.  

Callidus managed to grab another seed pod and he threw it at the other giant spider.  Then, despite feeling like his lungs were going to explode, he pushed himself to run faster.  Behind him, an alien-like shriek rended the air.

Startled by the noise, Callidus failed to watch his step, and he tripped and fell.  He pushed himself back up, and darted another look behind him.  But the spiders had stopped chasing.  Instead, they were using their legs to try and bat off the seeds that had covered their bodies.  But it was too late - the seeds were doing their work by digging past the spiders’ hairs and worming into their skin.  It must have been painful because the spiders continued shrieking, and did not even notice that Callidus had stopped running.

Though Callidus was tempted to dash straight back into Hogwarts and return to the safety of his bed, he knew he had to find Harry and Draco first.  He would never forgive himself if something happened to them and he wasn’t there to help.  He took a few gulping breaths before running in the direction that Harry and Draco had dashed off in.  It wasn’t long before he saw them facing off with a single acromantula.  He could hear their shouts of: “ diffindo! ” and the pair of them had managed to cut off a couple of the spider’s legs.  But although the creature was injured, that only seemed to anger it, and it continued to aggressively try and attack Harry and Draco.

 “Harry!  Draco!” Callidus shouted.  “Get away from it!”  

The other two boys looked his way.  Though they did not know what he was planning, they were quick to obey him, and they turned around and ran.  Callidus pulled another seed pod from his pouch, and flung it at the acromantula.  Seeing the seed pod burst (especially in such clear detail) was deeply satisfying.  A dark smile crossed Callidus’s face, and moments later, the acromantula was making inhuman shrieks of pain.  

Harry and Draco made a wide circle around the monstrous creature and joined up with Callidus.  All of them were still catching their breath, but Callidus could feel his heartbeat gradually slowing.

 “What was that?” Harry asked, his eyes wide with awe.  “Did you finish the gas bomb without telling me?”

Callidus shook his head.  “No, it’s something that Caiside gave me.”  He pulled a seed pod out of the pouch and showed his friends/brothers.  “The shell of the seed pod bursts open upon hard contact, and the seeds will dig under any surface.  It’s pretty brutal -” Callidus gave Draco a look.  “Definitely not the sort of thing to use on a person - at least not for fun.”

 “What?  Really!”  Harry examined the seed pod.  “Can I?”

Callidus nodded and handed Harry the pod.  “Just - be careful.  Don’t drop or try and squeeze it too hard.”

 “This pretty much saved our lives, didn’t it?” Harry remarked.

Callidus blinked.  “I suppose it did.”

Harry smiled.  “I guess we’re even now.  I saved your life once and now you’ve saved mine.  And Draco’s.”

Draco’s expression became surprised.  But then he gave Callidus a nod.  “I owe you a life debt.”

Callidus shrugged.  “We’re brothers.  You would have done the same for me.”

 “I -” Draco seemed to think the matter over.  “Yes.  I would have tried to do the same for you or Harry.”

Callidus and Harry smiled, while Draco flushed.  But the moment was quickly becoming embarrassing.

 “Let’s get back to the dungeons,” Callidus suggested.  Harry and Draco nodded in relief.

Chapter Text

 “Did you hear that they found three dead acromantulas on the lawns?” Parkinson asked as the trio sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall for their lunch the following day.

The trio shared a look.  

 “Acromantulas?” Greengrass repeated, looking dismayed.  “On the lawn?”

 “Yes.  The lawn.  Just outside the castle!” Parkinson answered, looking both thrilled to be sharing gossip, but also appalled by the nature of the news.  “The first years were having flying lessons and they spotted them.  The gamekeeper was trying to remove them.”

Callidus, Harry and Draco had agreed not to talk about their near-death escapade the previous night.  Though it was tempting to tell their peers of the remarkable events, they knew that they would get in trouble if it was discovered that they were leaving the castle past curfew.  The last thing the trio wanted was to risk the chance of detention or worse, if they happened to be discovered.

 “This is awful!” Greengrass cried.  “Hogwarts is supposed to be safe!  I thought nothing from the forest could hurt us as long as we remained on school grounds!”

 “I’m not afraid of acromantulas!” Bulstrode declared.  “I bet I could take one on!”

 “We don’t all have your strength, I’m afraid,” Parkinson replied.

 “Nor her bravado,” Zabini drawled.  “Though as Slytherins, I’m sure we’ll find a way to keep ourselves safe.”

 “Acromantulas are native to the rainforests of Southeast Asia,” Nott informed them.  “What are they even doing here in Britain?”

 “Who cares why they’re here!” Greengrass exclaimed, sounding shrill.  “What matters is what the school is going to do about it!  What if someone gets eaten?!”

 “Keep shrieking like that and you’ll make a nice target,” Callidus taunted.  He was sick of playing nice with Greengrass.  If he had hoped that she would have become more tolerable, he had been wrong.  And Rowle’s influence only seem to worsen her attitude.

Greengrass’s eyes widened, and she snapped her mouth shut, as though an acromantula could jump out at her at any moment.  Callidus smirked, satisfied that he had managed to shut her up.

Greengrass’s expression turned mulish.  “Dumbledore should do something.”

 “When has Dumbledore ever done anything to make anything safer for us?” Draco pointed out with derision.  “This place is falling apart.”

Harry and Callidus rolled their eyes.  They listened to the rest of the conversation with half-hearted interest, occasionally snickering when one of the Slytherins made some sort of wild speculations about what had killed the acromantulas.

The rest of the day passed quickly and Harry and Draco had Quidditch practice after classes were done.

Since Callidus was still waiting for Madam Fikodoxos’ letter, he decided that he didn't need to stop by the potions lab, and instead headed straight to the library to meet up with his Gryffindor friends.

He spotted Hermione, Caiside and Ginny sitting at their usual table, and sat down next to Hermione.

 “Did you hear about the dead acromantulas?” Ginny asked, after they said their hellos.

Callidus smirked.  “I did.”

Caiside narrowed her eyes.  “What's with that look?”

 “I saw it too,” Ginny piped.

Hermione nodded.  “Yep.  There was a look.”

 “You know something.  Tell us!” Ginny ordered.  Madam Pince glared in their direction, and Ginny looked momentarily sheepish.  But she returned her gaze to Callidus, giving him a stubborn look.

Callidus silently cursed the girls’ perceptiveness.  “What makes you think I know anything?”

A slow smile spread across Caiside's face and Callidus felt a moment of unease.  The girls all shared a look and it was as if they were speaking a secret language.  For a paranoid moment, he wondered if they had all managed to learn to communicate using legilimency.  However, he quickly decided that it was unlikely.

 “They're saying it must have happened after curfew,” Caiside explained.  “If it had happened before someone would have seen them.”

Hermione nodded.  “Acromantula aren't native to these parts.  They're from -”

 “The rainforests of Southeast Asia, I know,” Callidus cut in.  “Nott was telling us about it.”

 “Ah - well, it was a shock to learn that there are acromantulas in the forbidden forest.” Hermione looked towards the other two girls.  “Did either of you know there was acromantulas here?”

Ginny and Caiside shook their heads.  “If my brothers knew, they would have used that fact to try and terrorized us - especially Ron.  Ron is terrified of spiders.”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “Terrified is he?”

Ginny snorted, her expression mischievous.  “Completely terrified.”

 “Acromantulas are said to be wizard-bred in order to protect treasures or buildings,” Hermione continued to explained.  “They’re social creatures as well.  I’ve been reading up on them.  They’re rather difficult to injure because of their carapace.  But these particular acromantulas did not die of natural causes.”

 “How can you be sure?” Callidus asked.

 “It doesn’t reflect normal acromantula behaviour,” Hermione answered.  “In fact, almost all of the creatures in the Forbidden Forest tend to remain in their habitats.  The acromantulas wouldn’t have left the forest without good reason.”

Callidus tried to shrug casually.  “And?”

The girls shared another look.  “And you may or may not be aware of this, but we are able to see quite a lot from Gryffindor tower,” Hermione continued.  “Include rule-breaking Slytherins who sneak out at night.  So tell me Callidus , why were you, Harry and Draco sneaking out last night?  Was it for dueling club?  Were you dueling?”

 “We weren’t dueling,” Callidus denied.  

 “So you were sneaking out!” Ginny crowed.

Callidus’s expression turned defensive.  “You said -”

 “We were making it up!” Caiside gloated, looking smug.

Callidus opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again.  He glared at the trio of Gryffindors with irritation.  “You three are utterly maddening.  I must be a masochist for being willing to spend any time with you.”

Ginny giggled while Caiside and Hermione just looked amused.  “Don’t feel too bad,” Caiside reassured him.  “It was the three of us against one of you.”

 “You didn’t have any hope to begin with,” Ginny added.  “Now tell us!  How did you kill the acromantulas?  We’ve been dying to know!”

 “Well -” Callidus looked over at Caiside, “- I actually have Caiside to thank.  Those seed pods you gave me are the reason we escaped.”

Caiside brightened.  “Really?  You actually used them?”

 “What seed pods?” Ginny questioned.

Caiside began to explain the seed pods to the other two girls, and to Callidus’s relief, they fell into an extended conversation about Caiside’s dangerous plants.  It left Callidus free to focus on other matters such as actually getting his homework done.  But soon, his mind began to drift to the previous night.  The near-death experience had been frightening, and it hadn’t given him time to sort out the other memorable aspects of the night; specifically, being able to see magic.  Draco had mentioned that the purebloods were aware of this fact, but that it wasn’t well known.  But considering how prolific of a reader Hermione was, would she have heard anything about it?

The girls had fallen silent and were busy with their own assignments.  But curiosity was eating away at Callidus and he decided to interrupt.

 “Hermione -”

Hermione looked up from her parchment, pausing the movements of her quill as she gave him an inquiring look.  “Yes?”

 “Have you ever read anything about seeing magic?” He asked.

 “Seeing magic?” Hermione echoed.  “What do you mean?”

Callidus flicked a glance over to Caiside and noticed that she had raised her eyebrows.  “I mean a visual awareness of magic.  Being able to see it with your eyes.”

Hermione pursed her lips.  “I don't think I've ever heard about seeing magic like that.”

 “Are you saying there's something you don't know?” Ginny asked, wide-eyed.

 “I don't have the time to look up everything !” Hermione answered defensively.  “But now that you've brought it up, I'm going to see what I can find out about it.”

Ginny grinned.  “So you are human after all.  I was starting to worry that you were some kind of - personified encyclopedia or something.”

 “Well -” Hermione's cheeks flushed.

Caiside's expression became amused.  “It's a good thing.  I doubt either of our grades would be as good as they are if not for you.”

“Yeah!” Ginny chimed in.  “Honestly, it's awesome!  My brother Percy is always going on about school stuff and his grades, but you're far more brilliant than he is!  He almost made me afraid that I'd hate academic stuff, but since meeting you, I've changed my mind.”

Hermione coloured even further.  “Well thanks -”

Callidus fidgeted.  “This is starting to make me uncomfortable -”

Caiside grinned.  “Aww - the poor Slytherin can't handle all the feelings?”

Callidus scowled.  “I can handle feelings.  If people keep them to themselves.”

 “Callidus is embarrassed!” Ginny gleefully exclaimed, causing Madam Pince to give her an irritated glare.  Ginny let out a small giggle, darting quick glances towards the librarian..  “She probably hates me doesn't she.”

 “Yes,” Callidus agreed, causing Caiside and Hermione to give him an annoyed look.

 “I don't think Madam Pince likes anybody,” Caiside observed.  “I think she only likes books. I bet she'd sleep with them except that she's probably afraid of hurting her precious books.” Caiside smirked with amusement.

Ginny giggled again. “I can picture her sitting around and petting the covers: ‘There, there, sweet books - no student will get their oily paws over your beautifully bound surface,’” she mimicked.

 “To be fair, oily fingerprints are actually damaging to books,” Hermione pointed out.  “I would have thought magical books would have been an exception, but apparently not.  At least not the most magical and rare ones.  Though our common course books all have charms protecting them from oil and dirt.”

Ginny's expression turned thoughtful  “That makes sense.”

 “I thought we were talking about Callidus's feelings,” Caiside cut in, and Callidus have her a resentful glare.  He has really hoped that the girls had forgotten the topic but apparently life was less merciful than he had hoped (or girls were more tenacious.)

 “Aww, look at his face!” Ginny remarked, sounding far too cheerful for Callidus's liking.  “He's soo uncomfortable!”

A small smile tugged at Hermione's lips.  “Don't mind those two.  They're the same with me.  It's how they show they care.”

Callidus answered with a mutinous look.  “Then maybe they should care a little less.”

 “Aww, Callidus!  Don't you care about us?” Caiside asked, a mocking smile on her lips.

Callidus hummed.  After a pause, he said: “No.  I don't believe I do.”

 “You don't mean that!” Ginny pouted.

 “Oh, but I do,” Callidus declared.

 “You know what I think he needs?” Caiside asked Ginny conspiratorially.

Ginny shook her head, looking suspiciously innocent.  “No, what?”

Caiside gave Callidus an impish glance before answering Ginny.  “I think what he needs is a hug.”

 “No,” Callidus said flatly, while Ginny squealed: “Yes!”

The girls made their way to his side of the table and threw their arms around him while Hermione, who was sitting next to him tried to hide her laughter.

 “Hermione, you need to hug him too!” Caiside insisted, while Callidus hissed: “Unhand me!”

A pink tinge coloured Hermione's cheeks while Callidus just wished that he could sink into the ground.

 “I'm never visiting the three of you ever again,” Callidus growled.

 “Don't make threats you don't mean to keep,” Caiside cheekily replied.

 “Hermione -” Callidus gave her an imploring look. “Get these unseemly wenches to remove their tentacles off my person.”

Hermione tried to hide her giggle.  “Caiside, Ginny, leave him alone.  He looks seconds away from cursing you both.”

Caiside gave a dramatic sigh, and the two younger girls released him, and returned to their chairs.

 “Are you okay?” Hermione asked him sympathetically, though her eyes were bright with laughter.

Callidus considered leaving but it felt like that would be admitting that the girls had gotten the best of him.  “I believe I shall survive - though I’ll be sure to shower thoroughly after getting their dirty Gryffindor paws all over me.”

 “I’m a Gryffindor too!” Hermione said, sounding somewhat indignant.

 “Hermione, I like you in spite of the fact that you’re a Gryffindor.  Not because of it.  I’d probably like you more if you were in any other house,” Callidus informed her.

 “Even Hufflepuff?” Ginny wondered.

 “Oh yes,” Callidus answered.  “ Even Hufflepuff. ”

 “You like Hermione, do you?” Caiside asked innocently.

Callidus gave her a mistrustful look.  “Yes.  Hermione has many excellent qualities.”

Ginny giggled while Caiside gave him a sly look.  

 “What?” Callidus asked suspiciously.

Ginny tried to stifle her giggles while Caiside just maintained her fake-innocent look.  “Nothing!” she quickly replied.  “Nothing at all.”

Though Callidus didn’t believe her, he didn’t push it.  The last thing he needed was to have to deal with the strange, convoluted mind of girls.  Eventually, the topic changed and the girls started talking about Quidditch (or more specifically, Ginny would not shut up about how great Quidditch was.)  It was annoying, since all Callidus ever seemed to hear from Harry and Draco was Quidditch talk.  And with the game coming up, it seemed like the rest of the school had joined in with the talk as well.

 “I just don’t see the appeal,” Hermione told Ginny.  

 “I don’t see the appeal in talking about it,” Callidus muttered.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, before answering Hermione.  “Quidditch is just - amazing!  It’s so exciting.  There’s nothing like it.”

 “It’s just a bunch of witch and wizards on brooms throwing and catching balls,” Hermione opined.

 “It’s way more than just that!” Ginny defended.  “I mean, players have to spend the whole time watching their backs in case they get hit by bludgers.  No one tries to actually throw or catch bludgers.  It’s the quaffle and snitch that have to be caught.”

Callidus rolled his eyes.  “I’m sure everyone already knows how Quidditch is played.  Telling us the details doesn’t make it more interesting.”

Ginny’s expression became mulish.  “Yeah, but it takes a lot of skill to be a good player.  The chasers have to be really coordinated to score goals through those hoops with the quaffle, all while trying to get past the keeper and avoid bludgers, and really skilled beaters can direct the bludgers towards other players, rather than just aimlessly hitting them away.  And the seeker!  The seeker has to be the most nimble of all to catch the golden snitch!”

Calidus raised his eyebrows.  “Is that your way of bragging about your skills?”

Ginny looked uncertain.  “What are you talking about?”

 “Oh, don’t play dumb with me.  I know you’re on the Quidditch team.  Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?”

Ginny gasped.  “You know?  You’re not supposed to know!  How did you find out?”

Callidus smirked, while Hermione and Caiside looked away sheepishly.  “Clearly, you underestimate my intelligence if you think I would have remained unaware.  But answer me this:  How do you think the Gryffindors will have a chance of winning if you can’t even look up when Harry is in the same space as you?  The Slytherins are going to crush you.”

Ginny jutted her jaw forward, and there was a determined look in her hazel eyes.  For a fraction of a second, Callidus was reminded of his old friend Lily, but the moment quickly passed.  

 “I’ll be able to play,” Ginny stated.  “Don’t you worry about that.  I’ll play so well that Harry won’t be able to help but notice.”

 “This is all about Harry?”

Ginny faltered for a moment.  “Well.  No.  It’s about me .  I want to prove myself.”

Callidus hummed and then shrugged.  “If there was one way to get Harry’s attention, it would probably be Quidditch.”

Ginny lit up.  “Really?  You think so?”

 “Oh no,” Caiside interjected.  “Now you’ve done it.  She’s going to be drawing hearts on her parchment all day.”

Ginny blushed.  “I am not!  I only did that once!”

Caiside grinned.  “That we could see.  I bet you have a secret notebook that’s filled with hearts.”

Somehow Ginny turned even redder.  “It’s not true,” she said weakly, but no one believed her.  Callidus was just relieved that her embarrassment had ended the Quidditch discussion.

When Callidus returned to the Slytherin dungeons after finishing off his star chart for Astronomy, Harry and Draco were splayed out on the sofa.  Both of them looked exhausted, and Callidus assumed that Quidditch practice had probably been grueling.  Their first game against Gryffindor would be coming soon, and Marcus Flint was determined to maintain the Slytherin’s winning streak.

As Callidus neared the sofa, he heard Greengrass grouse: “Must you two sit like that?  This is Slytherin House!  Your positions are so - undignified!  People will talk about us!”

Harry just hummed indifferently, while Draco tiredly declared: “I really - don’t - care.  If you have a problem, take it up with Flint.  I bet you won’t be complaining when we win the Quidditch Cup.”

 “Confident, aren’t we?” Callidus observed as he sat down on the sofa next to Harry.

Draco looked over at him and managed a tired, but self-satisfied smirk.  “Of course I’m confident.  The Slytherins have a secret weapon this year.”

Callidus arched an eyebrow.  “Oh?”

Draco somehow managed to look even more smug.  “I’m not telling what the secret is.  Everyone is just going to have to find out during our first match of the year.”

 “Oh!” Parkinson exclaimed. “Is it the fact that you all have new, top-of-the-line brooms?”

 “Paaansy!” Draco wailed unhappily.  “How did you knoooow?  We even disguised the brooms during practice!  We wanted to shock everyone during the first match!”

Parkinson grinned brightly.  “If there’s a secret, I’ll find out eventually.  There isn’t much here at Hogwarts that gets past me.”

 “Oh, really?” Callidus intoned.

Parkinson’s expression turned sly.  “Yes, really, Cal .  Don’t tell me you doubt me.  Do you want me to tell everyone what happened at the library earlier?”

Callidus paled.  “You wouldn’t dare.”

Draco straightened up in his seat.  “Something happened in the library?”  He looked from Callidus back to Parkinson and then to Callidus again.  “What happened?”

 “Nothing happened in the library,” Callidus growled.

Draco now seemed fully alert, though Harry was still indifferently lazing on the sofa.  “Tell me what happened,” Draco demanded.

 “Nothing happened,” Callidus repeated, while Parkinson said, “Something quite interesting.”

 “It was involving the Gryffindor girls wasn’t it.” Draco was like a wolf who had scented blood, and didn’t want to lose the trail.

 “Oh Cal , are you embarrassed?” Parkinson asked, her voice saccharine.  “It was actually really sweet.  Odd, yes, but sweet.”

 “Tell mee!” Draco whinged.

 “I have no desire to discuss this topic.” Callidus’s voice was flat, and he had crossed his arms.

Parkinson cackled.  “You’re lucky that it’s just as fun to torment Draco as it is to torment you, Cal .  Don’t worry, I’ll keep your little secrets.”

Callidus narrowed his eyes.  “For what price?”

Parkinson shrugged.  “No price.  Just bear in mind that I have eyes everywhere. ”

Callidus thinned his lips.  “For a moment, I thought I might have to make an enemy of you.”

Parkinson gave him a weak smile.  “If there’s anything my life has taught me, it’s when not to push things too far.”

 “This isn’t fair!” Draco interrupted.  “You have to tell me Pansy!”

Parkinson turned and gave Draco an amused smile.  “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

 “Harry!” Draco nudged him.  “You want to know, don’t you?”

 “Ow!” Harry winced.  “Why did you do that?  Merlin, I’m so sore.  Flint is a slave-driver.  I swear, he’s trying to kill us all.”

 “Haaarry - don’t you want to know what Callidus was doing with the girls?”

 “I want to know why Flint is so cruel,” Harry groaned.  “Why does he take such pleasure in making all of us suffer?  What did we do to deserve this?”

Parkinson laughed.  “Oh Harry, darling - you signed up for it!”

 “I signed up to play Quidditch - not to be tortured,” Harry told her mournfully.  He turned his head to face Callidus.  “Cal - you should test that potion on Flint.  You said you needed to do human tests right?”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  It was true that he needed to do human tests on his friendliness potion, but he hadn’t thought of who to test it on yet.  “I suppose Flint would be a suitable subject.  But I don’t want to be the one to dose him.  Frankly, I’d prefer not to be flayed alive by an irate Quidditch captain.”

Harry straightened up and then winced from his aches.  “You would really test the potion on Flint?”

 “What potion?  What are you talking about now?  I thought we were talking about what happened in the library,” Draco interjected.

Though Callidus had been keeping the topic of his friendliness potion quiet from Draco, he didn’t see the harm in telling him now.  “I’ve been formulating a potion that removes aggressiveness and hostility, and makes people behave more amiably.”

Draco scrunched up his nose.  “Amiably?”  But then his expression cleared and he brightened.  “You’re going to use it on Flint?  Really?”

 “As long as you two are the ones to dose him, then I’m fine with Flint being the test subject,” Callidus answered.

 “Let’s do it then!” Draco said excitedly.

Harry grinned and nodded before turning back to Callidus.  “How does it work?”

 “It can be swallowed as potion, but we’re testing it in vapour form so it’s a rather different process.  You can leave an open vial or bowl of the potion and when Flint is within a meter from it, a use a vapourizing spell - it’s a very specific one that I’ll have to teach you if you don’t already know it.”

 “I think I know most of the vapourizing spells - I lent you that book, remember?” Harry reminded him.  “But we’ll probably have to teach Draco.”

 “I don’t know any vapourization spells,” Draco told them.

Callidus nodded.  “All right then.  Make sure the potion doesn’t get knocked over - anything on the floor can interfere with the ingredients and it may not work.  Otherwise, the only requirement is to make sure that Flint is within a meter of it before you vapourize it.  Oh, and throw up some sort of protective barrier spell if you don’t want to be affected.  You should be fine if you’re far enough away, but I’m not sure if you want to take that chance.”

 “Okay.” Harry nodded.  “I think I got that.  When do you want to do it Draco?”

 “Next practice,” Draco decided.  “Flint has made us triple our practice time since the big match is coming up, and I need a break!”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “Are you sure it won’t affect your overall performance in the match to be slacking off during practices?”

Harry groaned.  “If anything, we’d probably perform better because we wouldn’t be in pain!”

 “So it’s decided!” Draco asserted.

Harry nodded in agreement, looking pleased.  “Next practice - two days from now.”

Chapter Text

The next day, at breakfast, Callidus received a letter from Madam Fikodoxos.  It was the reply to the letter he had sent her.  Since the Slytherins were only discussing the news (which was reporting two more cases of the Orange Madness in the south) Callidus didn't pay them much heed, and opened the letter instead.

He skipped through the first few paragraphs in which she spoke of how proud of him she was, and how he was a credit to the Prince name and that he was surely a paragon of the Slytherin House.  Her praise was so profuse, yet he had a feeling that the letters that Madam Fikodoxos wrote to Caiside were nothing like the letters she wrote to him.  It made him feel uncomfortable; Caiside might have a bit of an attitude, but she really wasn't a bad sort.

Finally, he got to the section that was of interest to him, and he was pleased to see that Madam Fikodoxos has listed several materials as well as ingredients that could be used to either stabilize potions or store them.  Two of the materials were exotic enough that he hasn't even heard of them before.  He felt a renewed sense of satisfaction and folded up the letter, tucking it into his robe pocket.

The letter reminded him that he needed to write to Wystan as well.  Hopefully Wystan could offer some information about being able to see magic.  The topic interested Callidus enough that he decided it would probably be his next big project for potions, assuming that it was even possible to make a potion that would allow one to see magic.

The day was spent listening to Harry and Draco discuss how they would attempt to dose Flint with the friendliness potion.  Callidus had said he didn't want to get involved - especially since Flint was notorious for his short and violently explosive temper.  But Harry's and Draco's enthusiasm soon drew him in.  They were simply so in their element when it came to mischief that Callidus couldn't help wanting to be a part of it.

It kept the three of them awake during History of Magic, but none of them heard a single word that Professor Binns had said.

 “We're going to have to follow him,” Harry whispered, “to learn his habits.  We have to catch him alone so that we’re prepared when we dose him tomorrow.”

 “I don't think he really has to be alone,” Draco mused. “I mean, it's just a friendliness potion.  How bad could it be?”

 “More people means more witnesses,” Harry pointed out.  “And do you really want to risk the chance of getting caught by Flint?”

Draco frowned.  “That's true.  Fine.  We'll try and get Flint alone.  Or maybe if it's just him and Montague.  Montague’s a pillock.  I swear, he was trying to purposely knock me off my broom during practice.”

Harry’s expression turned sympathetic.  “I don’t like Montague either.  So should we do this after class?”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “Don't you two have a Charms assignment that you still have to complete?”

 “Oh, it's just Flitwick,” Draco scoffed.  “He won't even take points off us if we're late.”

 “You say that but then you'll be the one panicking at the end of the year because you worry that your grades aren't good enough to please your father,” Callidus reminded him.

 “Do you want us to dose your potion or not?” Draco challenged.

Callidus shrugged.  “Do what you must.”

 “You can always help us with our homework later, can't you?” Harry asked, though he already knew the answer.  “With our Quidditch schedule, it's been hard to find the time to get it all done.”

Callidus sighed, as if heavily burdened.  “Yes, Harry.”

 “Come along with us!” Harry cajoled.  “It’s more fun when you’re with us.”

 “I ought to be working on the container for the potion -” Callidus answered, though felt indecisive.

 “You should come,” Draco insisted. “Extra pair of eyes, and all.”

Harry grinned.  “See?  Draco agrees.  You always help us out if we’re in a tight spot.  It’s just better if you come.”

 “You are useful,” Draco opined.

Callidus shrugged.  “Fine.”  Though in truth, he did have a lot of fun with his friends/brothers, so it was no chore to join them on their escapade.

When classes were done, the trio quickly made their way back to the Slytherin dungeons, remembering to grab their Camouflage Potion at the last moment.  Their timing was perfect, since the seventh years had also just finished their classes and were entering the common room.  Their target Marcus Flint dropped off his book bag in his dorm room and he and his friends, Graham Montague and Lucian Bole left the dungeon soon after.  The trio exchanged glances and followed them, each taking a dose of the potion once they were in the relatively deserted hallway.

They had forgotten to grab the Foot-silencing Potion so they had to keep as quiet as possible.  But Flint and his friends hardly seemed aware of their surroundings.  After all, they were at the top of the school food chain.  People like Flint didn't have to worry about being bullied and attacked because he already was a bully, and an incredibly tough one at that.

They followed Flint out of the dungeons and exited the castle into one of the lesser known courtyards.  Callidus grimaced, and shivered from the November cold.  He could see Harry doing the same, but Draco was snug in his expensive charmed robes.  Callidus fervently hoped that perhaps Flint was using the courtyard as a shortcut to another part of the castle.  Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.  Flint and his friends settled down on a spot on the stone floor, and Montague pulled out a gobstones set from his rucksack.

Beside him, Callidus heard Harry groan.  “They're playing gobstones?” he whispered in dismay. “In this weather?  I always thought Flint had stone for skin and this just confirms it.”

 “Shh,” Draco hushed.  “We don't want them to hear us.  And if they like a game like gobstones, it’s no wonder they’d play it out here alone in the courtyard where no one can see.  People who actually like gobstones are kind of pathetic.”

Callidus sighed, wondering why he thought this would be fun.  He could have been working on his potions project instead.  Recalling that he had Madam Filodoxos letter to aid his progress, he found himself regretting his decision already.  But since he was here, he decided that he might as well see what might happen.  What did someone like Marcus Flint do with his free time (aside from gobstones?)

As the trio watched Flint and his friends play, it was clear that Flint was nowhere as near talented at gobstones as he was at Quidditch.

 “Got you!” Montague crowed as his stone knocked Flint’s out of the circle and Flint got a face full of slime.  The trio had to bite down on their lips, and cover their mouths to muffle their laughs.  

 “Merlin's bloody pants!” Flint swore, slamming his fist on the ground.

 “You can't play gobstones like you play Quidditch,” Bole pointed out.  “You can't just knock the stones at full force and expect to score points.  You have to use skill and finesse.”

 “You saying I don't have finesse?” Flint growled, still trying to wipe slime from his face.

Bole snorted.  “No Flint, you bloody well don't, and you know it.  You're like a erumpent in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop.  You destroy everything in your path.”

That caused Flint's lips to quirk upwards. “And I'm going to be destroying Gryffindors left and right next week.  I want them completely crushed and humiliated.  Especially that bloody Wood.”

Oliver Wood was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and it was well known that he and Flint were obsessed with Quidditch.  Unfortunately for Wood, they hadn't had a good seeker in all his years as captain, and the Gryffindors had suffered loss after loss against the brutally aggressive Slytherins.

 “Would you stop it with all your talk about Wood?” Montague groused.  “He's never won against you.  You're bloody obsessed with the bloke.  Keep talking like that and people will think you have feelings for him or sumthin’”

 “I don't have feelings for Wood!” Flint roared, and Callidus flinched at the force of his anger.  But Flint's reaction was rather interesting.  Callidus suspected that there might be something there, but since he didn't have to personally deal with Flint, he didn't know what to do with the information.  He stored it away in the back of his mind.

 “If anything, I just want to see Wood on his knees, begging for my mercy,” Flint added.

 “Frankly, saying things like that only supports Graham's idea,” Bole noted.  “I mean, come on, saying you want him on his knees?”

 “I don't mean it like that!” Flint barked defensively.  “I hate him!”

 “You know, we don't care if you like blokes, right?” Bole answered in a reasonable tone of voice.  “Frankly, it bothers us more that you might like a Gryffindor.  A lot more.  I mean - a Gryffindor?  Really?”

 “I don't like anyone!” Flint yelled. “And if you don't shut up, I'm going to bombarda your ugly mug so that your mother won't even want to look at you!”

 “Ha!” Bole uttered. “You're one to call me ugly.  Have you looked in a mirror lately?  Or do they all scream in terror when they see you?”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  He knew that the enchanted mirrors often had interesting responses (and more often than not, Hogwarts mirrors liked to nag Callidus to use his hair degreasing potion) but he had never heard of a mirror screaming from the sight of someone's face.  He wondered if it was true.

 “Those mirrors are bloody stupid, and they're lucky I don't smash then all to bits,” Flint declared. “Besides, that only happened once and it was because I had the dragon pox.”

Flint's friends snickered. “So, are you just going to admit that you like Wood or not?  I mean, I'm not into blokes or anything, but Wood isn't awful lookin’.”

 “I said shut up about it!” Flint roared again.  “Let's just play gobstones.  Or are you afraid you'll lose the next round?”

 “Against you?” Bole smirked. “Not likely.  Hey, you still got some slime on your face.”  He gestured to Flint’s cheek.

Flint swore and tried to wipe it off.

 “Just use a cleaning charm,” Montague suggested.

 “No!  I hate how they feel!  Like bloody sandpaper on my skin,” Flint complained stubbornly.  When Flint finally managed to clean off all the slime, he played (and lost) another round of gobstones against his friend, leaving him with yet more slime on his face.  Callidus would have found it more comical, except he was cold enough to be fantasizing about the large fire in the Slytherin common room, rather than being stuck out here watching Flint lose at gobstones.

Flint and his friends played a few more rounds of gobstones, and Flint even managed to win once, though Montague claimed it was just luck.

 “I still won and you got slimed!” Flint bragged triumphantly.

 “Whatever,” Montague muttered, before using a cleaning charm on his face and wincing from the discomfort.

Finally, Flint's friends said they were done and ready to go inside.

 “I got something to do first,” Flint informed them.  “I'll meet you back at the dungeon later.”

 “Again?” Bole asked. “Are you secretly meeting up with Wood or something?”

 “No!” Flint yelled angrily.  “It's none of your bloody business!”

His friends laughed.  “Sure.  We'll see you later, Marcus.”

Flint just grunted in reply.  The trio shared a look.  If Flint was going off somewhere alone, it could provide the ideal opportunity to use the potion on Flint.  Flint's friends returned to the dungeons while Flint wandered off in a different direction.  The trio followed him, grateful for the chance to finally be going inside.

They entered one of Hogwarts’ side doors, and boys had to carefully ensure that they opened and closed the door silently to avoid drawing Flint's attention.  They trailed behind him along the corridor and up a flight of stairs.  After rounding a corner, they spotted a gangly looking third year waiting for Flint inside the shadowy area of an alcove.

 “Do you have it?” Flint questioned menacingly.

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  It seemed like something shady was going on.

 “Yes,” the boy quailed, handing Flint a parcel.

 “Good.” Flint snatched the parcel from the boy's hands.

 “How long are you going to keep doing this for?  My mum is getting suspicious,” the boy whinged.

 “As long as you want me to keep your secret a secret.  Why?  Are you telling me that it’s time to tell everyone that you’re -”

 “Shh!” the third year insisted.  “Not here!  Someone might hear us.”

Flint snorted.  “No one is here but us.  Be here tomorrow with the same package.”

 “But what do I tell my mum?  She doesn’t understand why I keep asking her to send me biscuits.”

Callidus frowned.  Biscuits?

 “It’s your mum’s fault for making biscuits that are so bloody good.  I’ll stop asking you for biscuits when your mum no longer makes good biscuits.”

Callidus’s expression became incredulous.  He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing; it was just too ludicrous.  Flint was actually blackmailing someone in exchange for biscuits?  How did this situation even arise?  It was ridiculous.

 “Come back here tomorrow,” Flint ordered the third year.  “It has to be right after classes, before Quidditch practice.  Now scram!  Get outta my face!”

The gangly boy wilted and quickly scuttled off, leaving Flint alone in the alcove.  When Flint believed he was alone, he ripped open the package and began stuffing his face with biscuits.

 “So good,” he moaned with mouthful of biscuits still in his mouth, and Callidus cringed.  He looked over at Harry and Draco and they were wearing the same expression.  Eventually, Flint finished the entire package of biscuits.  He wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe to remove wayward crumbs before leaving the alcove.  The trio didn’t bother to follow him.  They had seen enough.

 “This might sound a bit weird, but I really want to try those biscuits,” Harry confessed, when they were certain that Flint was gone.

Draco scrunched up his nose.  “Frankly, seeing Flint eat may have put me off food forever.”

Callidus snorted.  “Such delicate sensibilities.”

 “Shut up.  It was disgusting,” Draco retorted, but there was no real heat behind the words.  “Let’s check the alcove.  We should probably put the potion where it won’t be too obvious or someone will notice it.”

Callidus and Harry nodded in agreement.  The alcove in question wasn’t particularly interesting.  It was arch-shaped, with a pointed top, and the stonework was fairly plain.  However, it did contain a stone bench, and a vial or bowl of potion could easily be tucked away under the bench, where it could go unnoticed.  Satisfied with the results of their investigation of Flint, the trio returned to the the Slytherin dungeons, looking forward to discovering how the friendliness potion would affect Flint.

On the following day, Callidus did not want to put off his potions research any longer, so after classes, he headed towards his lab after taking out a few more books from the library.  He was feeling optimistic about the finally creating the right container that would vapourize his potions, and he hoped that the information that Madam Filodoxos had given him would provide the breakthrough that he needed.  Furthermore, as he had said, he really didn’t want to risk the chance of incurring Flint’s possible wrath.  Flint might not have been the brightest lumos in the school, but he was dangerous for similar reasons that Norberta was - brute strength, quick speed and aggressive instincts.

Some of the materials and ingredients that Madam Filodoxos had suggested were so unusual and interesting that Callidus quickly lost track of time.  Before he knew it, it was evening, and Harry and Draco were probably back from Quidditch practice.  He looked over his books and notes with a sense of longing.  He really wanted to do more reading so that he could finally solve the problem of the vapourization bomb.  But on the other hand, he really wanted to know the results of the friendliness potion.  Had it been effective on Flint?  Or was the potion still too strong?  Since the potion was created by using a love potion as a starting point (which had to be toned down to be very mild and generalized), it was hard to say how it would affect humans.

In the end, Callidus decided he might as well return to the common room and find out the results from Draco and Harry.  If the potion didn’t turn out quite right, at least he would know that it still needed tweaking.  Callidus knew that the potion would probably benefit from more tests on human subjects.  But because the effects were ultimately benign, he wasn’t quite as worried about it.  It wasn’t as though a potion with very temporary effects that caused people to feel more affectionate, could really do much harm.

Packing up his books and notes, Callidus made his way from the lab to the common room.  He thought that Harry and Draco would already be back, but to his surprise, he met up with them in the hallway.

 “Cal!” Harry called out brightly, waving.

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “You two look happy.  Can I take this to mean that the potion was a success?”

 “It - was - awesome !” Draco declared, looking utterly pleased.

Harry grinned.  “Practice was so much fun today.”

Draco chortled.  “And everyone was so confused by Flint’s complete change of tone.”

 “What was Flint like?  The potion worked well?” Callidus inquired.

Harry and Draco nodded.  “Yeah,” Harry told him.  “We placed the potion a bit behind the stone bench, and after that other boy left, we vapourized the potion before Flint had a chance to eat his biscuits.”

Draco grimaced.  “I would have thought that inhaling a bunch of shimmery vapour would have caused Flint to be more suspicious, but he somehow decided that it would be a good idea to sit down and eat the entire package of biscuits.  Disgusting.”

 “I think the potion was affecting him even then, because I swear, he looked even happier than usual this time as he was eating his biscuits.  Merlin, I really wish I could try one.” Harry sighed wistfully.  “Those biscuits must be miraculous if they could make someone so happy.”

Draco made a gagging noise.  “As I said.  Disgusting.”

Callidus’s lips quirked upwards.  “So - Flint -?”

Harry nodded.  “So after that, we headed down towards the Quidditch Pitch since we had practice.  I was really hoping that Flint would go easy on us because I’m still sore from last practice.”

 “I told you to to use that cream that my mother bought me,” Draco admonished.

Harry frowned.  “The cream smelled like flowers !  I didn’t want to smell all - flowery!”

 “There’s nothing wrong with being covered by a pleasing odor.  My mother says a refined wizard must show his elevated tastes,” Draco retorted.

 “I don’t think I want to be a refined wizard,” Harry answered stubbornly.

Callidus rolled his eyes.  “Just think of it this way, Draco.  If you’re the one who smells like - er - flowers, then you’re the one who will appear the most refined in comparison.”

Draco’s expression brightened.  “That’s true.” He beamed.  “Good point, Callidus.  Though I must say that it still does me credit to have my companions show some degree of refinement.”

 “Erm -” Harry looked uncertain.  “Sure.”

 “You were telling me about Flint?” Callidus reminded his brothers/friends.

 “Yes, so Flint.  We went down and got dressed for practice,” Harry continued to explain, “and when Flint arrived, he didn’t exactly look happy.  I mean, he definitely looked a lot more happy when he’s eating those biscuits.  So Draco and I were kind of worried that the potion might not have worked.”

 “I couldn’t handle another brutal practice so soon,” Draco interjected.

Harry nodded sympathetically.  “I thought I’d be stuck with open sores if we had to have another practice session like the last one.  My hands and thighs were so raw last time.  Anyhow, so Flint came over towards us - the team, not me and Draco specifically - and usually at this point, he starts insulting us, and telling us that we’re pitiful worms that he has to whip into shape.”

 “Who does he think he is to presume to talk to us that way?  If he weren’t the captain of the Quidditch team, I’d never tolerate it,” Draco muttered darkly.

Harry ignored the comment.  “But this time, Flint didn’t insult any of us.  He just told us to get our brooms and get out on the pitch.  I think the rest of the team was a bit confused, but - I mean - Flint’s actions weren’t so unusual that everyone would really notice.  It wasn’t until we were actually up in the air that Flint became noticeably more friendly.  I mean, usually, when we’re practicing, he has this furious look on his face - like he thinks that everything we do is a disappointment.”

 “As if he could have a better team than us,” Draco grumbled.

 “But this time, he didn’t look angry at all.  He still wasn’t smiling or anything. But he didn’t insult any of us!  And what’s more, he told me that my flying was passable!”

Callidus arched a black eyebrow.  “He said your flying was passable?”

 “Yeah!” Harry affirmed.  “From someone like Flint, that’s like - unimaginable praise.”

 “He said my flying wasn’t bad,” Draco added.  “But what does he know?  My flying is amazing.  But it’s true that hearing something like that from Flint was unusual.”

Harry grinned.  “Everyone else was getting so confused.  Pucey kept asking him if he was feeling all right, or asking if he had hit his head or something.  But I think everyone was relieved to have an easy practice session.”

 “It’s a lot easier to show off my skills when Flint isn’t screaming at us,” Draco remarked.  “All in all, I’d say your potion was a success.  This new version of Flint is much more tolerable than his normal self.”

Harry nodded in agreement.  “I wish Flint were always this way.”  He turned towards Callidus.  “Any chance we could have more of that potion?”

 “I don’t know if I can justify making large batches of it,” Callidus replied.  “Slughorn would get suspicious if a large number of his ingredients started to disappear.”

Draco hummed.  “We might be able to pay for the ingredients.  You could consider it part of your potions trade.”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  “If it’s a business arrangement, then I can make it happen.  For you two, I won’t charge for the labour.  If you’re willing to buy the ingredients, I’ll make you the potion.”

Harry’s expression turned excited.  “Really?  This is great!” He looked over at Draco.  “Could you imagine if all our practices were this fun?”

 “Are you sure it won’t affect your skills if you relax your practices?” Callidus wondered.

Draco scoffed.  “Don’t you worry about that.  Our team is going to crush the rest of the other houses.  They don’t stand a chance.”

Harry smiled.  “It would be pretty nice to win.”

 “We will win,” Draco fiercely asserted.  “We will definitely win.”

Chapter Text

It was a few days before the big Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Callidus was sitting at the breakfast table when the owl post arrived.  A letter dropped towards him, bouncing off his cup of juice and landing on his food.  He grimaced, wiping bits of tomato off the parchment, wondering how the post owl’s aim could be so deplorable.  Draco’s eagle owl never dropped parcels or letters in his food.  Of course, Draco’s family had also paid a fortune for that eagle owl.

As Callidus looked down at the name on the letter, he was pleased to see that Wystan had finally replied to him.  Harry peeked over towards the letter, and Callidus showed him Wystan’s name.  It wasn’t that Harry was a snoop, but the raven-haired boy almost never received letters (except for the occasional one from Narcissa Malfoy - but even Callidus sometimes receive those, and all they said was that they were such good friends to Draco, and that they all needed to look out for one another, which Callidus assumed meant that she wanted them to look out for Draco.)

Draco was preoccupied with his own parcel from his parents, which included its usual abundance of expensive treats imported from all across Europe.  Parkinson was giving him puppy-dog eyes, trying to convince Draco to give her the lavender-vanilla confection that burst into magical sweet sparkles when one bit into it.  And Harry had looked over and was saying: “Oh!  Give me all the ones you don’t want,”  to which, Draco replied, “Naturally,” causing Harry to give him a pleased grin.

It was a slow news day, so Callidus opened Wystan’s letter and began to read.  He grimaced at the usual lovey-dovey messages between Wystan and Calypso.  Considering that Calypso seemed to interject in almost every one of Wystan’s letters, Callidus had the impression that they were the sort of couple that did everything together.  Personally, Callidus couldn’t imagine anything more maddening than being stuck in someone’s company all the time.  Even when it came to Harry and Draco, Callidus still got breaks from them whenever they were at practice, or when he was busy in his lab.  

He scanned through all the parts that he really didn’t need to see, until he finally came to the paragraphs that interested him.

The research on studying the effects of magic on one’s magical signature is going really well , Wystan wrote.   We’ve been able to show that using any sort of magic, even once, leaves a mark on one’s so-called ‘magical signature.’  It’s fascinating to compare the difference of a toddler’s signature before and after their first act of accidental magic.  Of course, since accidental magic is typically neutral or Grey magic, the effects between all children are relatively similar.  That said, it’s important to note that people do have unique ‘magical signatures.’

What we’re trying to figure out now is whether these changes in a person’s magical signature has any effect on who they are as a person.  As you can imagine, it’s exceedingly difficult to isolate cause and effect in our research.  Plus, since most of our studies involve children, we have to be particularly careful with how we carry out our experiments.  It wouldn’t do to have a mob of irate parents wanting to tan our hides.

As far as measuring ‘magical signatures’ goes, we use certain measuring devices.  Yes, I have heard of being able to see magic, but using potions and spells to try and discern magic tends to result in imprecise results.  There are a lot of people hoping to make breakthroughs in that particular area, but so far, results haven’t been impressive.

How goes your potions work?  Vapourizing potions sounds like a fascinating project, but it seems like it could have dangerous implications if it ever fell into the wrong hands.  Nonetheless, succeeding in that project would be amazing.  Have you figured out how you’ll make the container yet?

Ah, Calypso is demanding my attention.  It’s date night and we’re going to be trying a new restaurant in Diagon Alley.  Supposedly, everything is cooked using different types of magical heat sources, and their specialty is a magically bred beast that’s a mix between wild boar and bicorns.  Salivating yet?

Until next time,

Wystan.

Callidus folded up the letter, his expression thoughtful.  He had considered that vapourizing potions had the potential to be very dangerous, but he had put it out of his mind.  While the idea of publishing or monetizing his findings appealed to his ego, some part of him thought that putting out information about vapourizing potions could result in unintended consequences.  After all, there was already so much conflict in the magical world; did he really want to do anything that would potentially inflame that conflict?  Having Wystan confirm it only made Callidus feel more sure that he would keep his ideas to himself - at least for now.  But of course, he was still planning on going forward with using it in pranks.  There was no way he wanted to work so hard on a project, only to never use it.  And either way, he knew that Slughorn would give him credit for the work he had done.

The day passed by relatively quickly, and even Lockhart’s classes were less of a chore than usual.  The blond professor appeared to have been worn down by the trio’s sporadic pranks, and was much less obnoxious now than he had been at the beginning of the year.  Of course, Lockhart still had his moments of being flamboyantly self-aggrandizing, but the trio had developed an extensive enough repertoire of prank spells that it was easy to knock Lockhart down a few pegs if they felt they needed to.  And through it all, Harry seemed to have no regrets about singling out the harebrained teacher.  Lockhart managed to be annoying enough that it usually felt justifiable.

They were learning about ghouls that day, and as usual, Lockhart had some exaggerated story about his own personal encounters.  While the trio found Lockhart’s tales to be ridiculous (and sometimes riddled with contradictions), it was better than having to watch Lockhart perform his exploits as a skit (usually involving his more worshipful fans as volunteers.)  And after the chaotic Cornish pixie encounter (in which the pixies completely destroyed the classroom, since none of the Slytherins bothered to clean up Lockhart’s mess), Lockhart never followed up with another live encounter with magical creatures.  There was one incident in which Lockhart tried to assign the class an assignment that involved writing a poem about his exploits - but after a series of humiliating pranks, Lockhart had never suggested a poem since then.  Frankly, lessons were rather boring, since most of their education seemed to be based on following the textbook and Lockhart’s rambling anecdotes.  

Between classes, Callidus managed to write a reply to Wystan’s letter and when classes were over, he decided to head towards the owlery to post his letter.  Harry chose to join him, since he liked visiting Hedwig, but Draco had declared that the owlery was “soo far” and he didn't want to climb all the stairs.

As the two boys walked from their class towards the owlery, they began to discuss their ARMED progress.

 “I hate not being able to practice spells,” Harry groused.  “I thought we'd find that secret chamber by now.  Maybe we should just risk going back to the forest to practice again.  Can't you just use those seed pods if anything happens again?”

 “I only have a couple of them left.  If there were more than two acromantulas, we'd be in trouble.”

Harry pursed his lips, a look of contemplation on his face.  “Can't you ask Caiside for more then?”

 “Unless Caiside is growing deadly plants up in Gryffindor tower, I doubt that she has anymore seed pods on hand,” Callidus pointed out.

Harry sighed heavily. “I hate Rowle.  I wish we could use those Slytherin dueling chambers.  I wonder if she was just making up that bit about having to be a pureblood?” Harry's voice turned bitter.  “Seems like the sort of thing she would do.”

 “I'm surprised you haven't been plotting ways to make her life difficult,” Callidus remarked.

Harry raised his eyebrows.  “Like a prank?  It's harder to get into pranks without Draco, and Draco is oblivious to how Rowle acts around anyone who isn't a pureblood.”

 “True, Draco has the most enthusiasm for creating trouble.  But -” Callidus paused, “- he isn't necessary.”

Harry's expression turned hopeful.  “Are you saying that you would help me if I wanted to prank her?”

 “To remove that smug look from Rowle’s face?  Yes.”

Harry broke into a grin.  “Awesome!  What should we do?  We should plan something right away.  It's too bad that we can't enter the girls’ dorms.  I wonder if I could get Pansy or Millie to help us.”

Callidus gazed upwards as he thought.  “It should be both humiliating and relevant.  What would upset her the most?”

 “Something to do with muggles.  It's too bad we don't know her class schedule.  But we could get her during one of the meals or in the common room.  Are there any potions you could vapourize other than the friendliness potion?”

A wicked gleam entered Callidus's eyes. “The friendliness potion is based off love potions.  It's a matter of concentration.”

A dark smile crossed Harry’s face.  “I like where this is going.  But - the vapour bombs still aren't ready yet.  There must be something we could do in the meantime.” Harry tilted his head as he mused.  “My spellcasting isn't good enough to get away with hexing her out in the open.  And even if I give her a face full of boils, the girls all have expensive beauty potions to hide that kind of thing.”

 “Slytherin girls do.  Somehow I can't imagine the girls from the Houses being quite as vain.”

Harry smirked.  “That's true.  At least for Pansy, Daphne, and even Tracy.  I don't think Millie cares though.”

Callidus shrugged.  “If anyone insulted her about her looks, she could just punch them anyways.”

 “Ha!  She would too!” Harry grinned.  “But that doesn't answer the question about Rowle.  I should use that hex that would make her have musical flatulence. But if we did that, we'd have to get her in the hallways and then run away.  Hmm.” Suddenly, Harry's eyes lit up.  “What about using the post?  She'd never know it was us, and it would happen in full view of the school!”

 “Are you suggesting sending her a howler?”

Harry chuckled. “That would be funny.  But we could do better.  Besides, it's most important to embarrass her in front of the Slytherins.  I don't think Rowle cares about what the rest of the school thinks.”

 “You have something in mind?” Callidus queried.

A slow smile stored spread across Harry's face.  “We should send her something muggle.”

Callidus arched his brow.  “Something muggle?  Clever - it's what she hates the most.  It could damage her credibility in the eyes of the other purebloods.”

 “Exactly!” Harry agreed.

 “What should we send?  It shouldn't be something that is packaged in boxed, since no one would see it.”

Harry hummed.  “Not packaged -” he murmured.  But then an idea crossed his mind.  “Magazines!”

 “Ah - yes, there's a lot of potential there.  We just have to figure out which magazine.  Unless you know any off the top of your head?”

 “Not really,” Harry confessed.  “But my aunt used to get subscriptions for housekeeping magazines.  I wasn't allowed to touch them though.”

Callidus shook his head.  “I'm glad you were able to get away from your relatives.  They're terrible excuses for human beings.”

Harry nodded in agreement, but then smiled anew.  “It would be pretty funny to send Rowle a housekeeping magazine.  And have you noticed how purebloods think that pictures that don't move are bizarre and unnerving?”

Callidus smirked.  “Indeed.  I can check the library to see if I can discover anything about muggle magazines, though it seems unlikely.  Perhaps Hermione would know something.”

Before long, they had arrived at the owlery.  Callidus used one of the school owls to send his letter, while Harry called for Hedwig, and began to scratch her head.  They fell into silence, listening to the soft rustling sound of the birds above them.

 “I can’t stand her.  I just want her to be crushed,” Harry muttered, causing Callidus to look towards him.

 “Rowle?”

Harry nodded, with a hard look that made his green eyes look unusually cold.

 “She hadn't targeted me personally, like Lockhart has - but she hates a whole group of people, which is honestly worse.”

 “You realize that you're describing a large portion of Slytherin?”

Harry huffed.  “I guess.  It's just so stupid!” He thinned his lips.  “I wish I could just make them see that the way that they're looking at things is all wrong.”

 “I doubt you could just force others to change their views,” Callidus mused.

 “Why not?” Harry asked stubbornly.  “With magic, there must be a way.”

Callidus frowned.  He happened to glance downwards and noticed the cord of the pendant around Harry's neck.

 “You're still wearing that thing?”

 “Huh?” Harry gave him a bemused look.

 “That pendant.”

Harry reached under his collar and pulled out the pendant.  “Why wouldn't I?  I like it.”

Callidus shrugged.  There was no point in trying to cajole Harry about it.  He didn't even know for certain if there was anything wrong with it.

Once Hedwig had her fill of attention, the two boys left the owlery to return to the dungeons.

 “Shall we try to look for your secret chamber this weekend?” Callidus questioned.

Harry nodded.  “After the match on Saturday, we should have plenty of time.” A look of anticipation crossed his face.  “I can't wait for the game.  It'll be my first real match!”

 “You sound confident.”

Harry's expression became mildly embarrassed.  “It's not that.  I just really like playing.  And it'll be nice to have Flint lay off us for a while.  He’s been really harsh lately, or at least after that day we used the friendliness potion.  It’s like he’s trying to make up for that moment.” He chuckled.  “I don't think he realized what happened though.”

 “Oh?  I wonder if that's unique to Flint, or if that's an effect of the potion.  Potions tend to have obvious effects.  People can usually sense that there is something different about themselves.”

Harry smiled and shrugged.  “Well not Flint.  When are you going to have a new batch of friendliness potion ready anyway?  I thought we would never have to deal with that side of Flint again.”

Callidus shrugged.  “The shipment of ingredients was delayed.  But I’ll get started on those batches as soon as it arrives.”

The remainder of the week passed by in a blur, and it was soon the Saturday of the Quidditch match.  It was an overcast day, and Callidus hoped that it wouldn’t rain, but most of the other students didn’t seem bothered by the weather.  Harry and Draco had been expected to get up early to prepare, which meant Callidus hardly saw them all morning.

All around him, the Slytherins were talking about how the Gryffindors were going to be crushed.

 “They don't stand a chance!” He heard one fourth year proclaim.  “Their seeker couldn't see the snitch even if it was an inch from their nose.”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  How had the Gryffindors been so effective about keeping Ginny’s role a secret?  Of all the Houses, he wouldn't have figured the Gryffindors as being good secret keepers.  

As the students made their way towards the Quidditch pitch, Callidus meet up with Hermione and Caiside near one of the castle exits.

 “Hello Callidus,” Hermione greeted.  

 “Looking forward to seeing Slytherins being destroyed in the upcoming match?” Caiside playfully taunted.

Callidus smirked. “You lions always were known for your reckless confidence.”

 “You might not be worried now, but you will be,” Caiside retorted.  “It's not too late to change sides!”

 “Caiside!” Hermione admonished. “Callidus is going to support his friends !  Besides, it's just a game.  There's no reason to get so riled up about it “

 “Think of it as part of the wizarding culture,” Caiside replied.  “It's part of our identity.”

 “So are pointy hats and you don't see me wearing one of those,” Hermione answered tartly.

Caiside snorted.  “My mother calls it a classic look.”

 “Now that you mention it, I've never seen you wearing a witches’ hat,” Callidus observed.

 “Yeah, well you learn to hate those things when your childhood is a series of traumatic incidents that involve being forced to wear the wretched things.  Ugh - I don't want to relive the horror of it all.  Let's just go -”

 “Wait just a moment -” Callidus interjected.  “I'm interested in hearing more about these childhood moments of yours.”

 “Noo!” Caiside pleaded.  “Come on Hermione, let's go.”

 “You're awfully confident about the Gryffindors’ chances.  Why don't we make a bet, to make things more interesting.  If Slytherin wins, then you have to wear a witches' hat for at least a full day.”

 “No!” Caiside vehemently declared.

 “Ah, so you aren't so confident about the Gryffindors’ abilities.”

 “I am !  Fine!” Caiside huffed with annoyance.  “But you know what?  If the Gryffindors do win, then you'll be the one wearing the wretched hat.”

Callidus narrow his eyes.  Pointy hats were usually only worn by starry-eyed first years or particularly old-fashioned witches and wizards.  It would be a bit embarrassing but Slytherin house had enough stuffy purebloods that several students regularly wore hats.  Besides, Caiside had made such a big deal of the whole matter that he really wanted to see her in a witches hat.

 “All right,” he agreed.  “We have a bet.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head.  “Honestly,” she muttered.

As they neared the stands, they split ways, but not before Caiside called out: “Better dust off your hat!”

Callidus raised his eyebrows and a slow smile crossed his face.  “Better steel yourself to relive some childhood trauma.”

 “This is ridiculous!” Hermione opined.  “Come on Caiside.  Let's go and support our friends. ”

Caiside shrugged and let Hermione pull her away   Following the crowd of students, Callidus climbed the stairs of the Slytherin portion of the stands, and found a seat next to Parkinson and Zabini.

 “ Cal !” Parkinson greeted when she saw him.  “Isn't this just exciting?  Harry and Drakey’s first match.”

Callidus’s lips lifted in amusement.  “Indeed.”

 “It's just a shame that Gryffindors are so brash about the whole matter.  How you manage to endure their presence, I'll never understand.”

 “With patience,” Callidus drawled.  “The same skill required to endure Slytherins.”

Parkinson cackled with mirth.  “Well said.”

It was noisy enough that Callidus didn't feel like trying to talk over the crowds so instead of trying to maintain any semblance of conversation with Parkinson, he decided to watch the on-goings of the crowd instead.  The Quidditch stands were filling up rapidly.  Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had come out in large numbers, and it was immediately obvious that neither of the other houses were siding with the Slytherins.  Of course, the Slytherins were determined to make themselves heard; they had a lot of pride in their team, and didn’t hesitate to show it.

The feeling of anticipation gave the air an electric feel.  People on each side knew that their own team had secrets, and although many Slytherins were confident that the Gryffindors would be destroyed, they could sense the optimism of the other side, and it made them uneasy.  Would this be a quick and brutal match?  Or would the results surprise everyone?  

There was a momentary lull as the Quidditch players emerged onto the pitch, but that soon turned into an enthusiastic roar as the students cheered for their side.  All around him, Callidus heard gasps and exclamations.

 “Are they holding brand new Nimbus 2001s?” an awed first year Slytherin asked of the Slytherin team.  

 “The whole team?” another Slytherin remarked.  “Merlin, it’s true!  All of them have one?”

 “It was a donation from one of the chasers - Malfoy,” a Slytherin smugly informed.

 “The Malfoy’s are insanely rich!  Powerful too!”

 “Wait - who’s that, that they’ve got as their seeker?”

A bewildered voice questioned: “The Gryffindors have a new seeker?  I thought they were playing what’s-his-face again -”

 “Who is their seeker?”

 “The Gryffindors don’t stand a chance!  Not against a team where everyone has the new Nimbus.”

 “Does anyone recognize that new Gryffindor seeker?”

 “It’s a Weasley!” a loud voice called out.

 “Yeah!  Their seeker is a Weasley!  Can’t you tell by the hair and the hand-me-down robes?”

There was a burst of laughter in the Slytherin stands.

 “Is that how desperate they are?” a Slytherin mocked.  “Using a muggle-loving blood traitor pauper as their seeker?”

Though Callidus sided with the Slytherins, he felt his blood begin to boil.  Ginny didn’t deserve to be spoken of that way.  As he looked down at the pitch, he could tell that it took a lot of courage for Ginny to be able to stand tall in front of the entire student body.  Yet again, he was suddenly reminded of Lily, but the moment passed as quickly as it arrived.  It occurred to him that he almost thought of Ginny (and Caiside) as his friends.  He shook his head.  Who was kidding?  Callidus realized then that he did think of Ginny and Caiside as his friends.  They might have spent a great deal of time mocking each other, but there was no malice behind it.  

Callidus might not have been the most vocal of Slytherins, but before he knew it, he called out: “Let’s just see how she plays, before making foolish assumptions.”  His words went unheard, and Callidus shook his head again.  Next to him, Parkinson raised her eyebrows before giving him a knowing smile.  Callidus chose to ignore her.

The two Quidditch teams gathered in the middle of the green around Madam Hooch.  She was probably giving them some sort of lecture about fairness, and it was evident, even all way from the stands, that the focus of her attention was Marcus Flint.  The captains of the Quidditch teams then shook hands and all of them mounted their brooms.

The shrill of Madam Hooch’s whistle sliced through the noise of the crowd, and seconds later, the players shot up into the air, with Harry and Ginny rising highest of all so that they had a good position from which to survey the pitch for the golden snitch.  Around him, the thunder of the crowd was so noisy that it almost hurt Callidus’s ears to listen to.  It was unquestionably aggravating to have people whooping and waving their arms all around him.

The Quidditch announcer was a friend of the Weasley twins, named Lee Jordan.  Jordan was very obviously biased towards the Gryffindors, but it was difficult to tune out his voice.  Using the sonorus charm, his voice could be heard ringing across the stands, as the Quidditch players weaved back and forth, trying to maintain their practiced formations.  

  “And after brutally cutting off the lovely and attractive Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -” Jordan announced, interrupted by Professor McGonagall scolding: “Jordan!”

Jordan continued: “- erm - sorry - the Quaffle has been seized by Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint.  Flint zooms past Gryffindor chaser Katie Bell - Merlin, are those Nimbus Two-thousand-and-ones ever fast!  The new brooms certainly give the Slytherins a major advantage.  You practically don’t even need to have talent, if you have one of those!”

 “Jordan…” McGonagall all but growled.

Jordan gave the professor a sheepish look before returning to his announcing. “Flint passes the Quaffle to Adrian Pucey and - Ooh!  Pucey barely manages to duck from a Bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley - sorry can’t tell which is which - Pucey easily dodges Gryffindor’s Alicia Spinnet - sharp turn to the left - throws - Keeper Oliver Wood dives - SAVE!   Amazing save by Wood!  The crowd cheers!!  And Gryffindors have possession of the Quaffle!  Spinnet is off!  Passes the Quaffle to Johnson - Intercepted by Pucey and the Slytherins have possession again!  Pucey passes to Slytherin’s new chaser Draco Malfoy - rumour has it that it was the Malfoys who donated the new brooms - guess life really is easier when you’re rich, yeah?”

McGonagall glared at Jordan, but let the comment slide.   

 “Malfoy flies past Spinnet - Flint is waving for Malfoy to pass - Looks like Malfoy is going to ignore him - he’s going for it - throws - and Keeper Wood moves and stops the goal.  Excellent move, Wood!  The Gryffindors have taken the Quaffle - Oh, Ouch! - Johnson’s taken a Bludger, right in the shoulder - she loses the Quaffle, and Slytherins have possession again.  Pucey has the Quaffle - zips around Bell - reverse passes to Flint - what a show off!  Flint feints - Wood dives - misses - Slytherins Score!”

The Slytherins around Callidus burst into boisterous cheers and hollers.  The Gryffindors clearly looked dismayed and booed loudly.  It was evident to anyone with even a passing knowledge of Quidditch that the new brooms were an immense advantage.  Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked unhappy.  Callidus searched the pitch and spotted Harry and Ginny.  Both of them wore similar looks of concentration as they scanned for the snitch.  It was early yet, and both seekers were untested.  Would Ginny be as good as Caiside and Hermione claimed?

Jordan’s words broke into his train of thoughts.  “Gryffindor’s chaser Bell hands the Quaffle to Spinnet - Spinnet ducks away from Pucey - passes to Johnson - Ooh!  And Malfoy swoops right in and takes the Quaffle.  Bludger coming his way courtesy of Fred or George Weasley - Malfoy swoops down and dodges!  The field is clear - he’s flying ahead - throws - and Slytherins Score Again!”

The Slytherins broke into more cheers and this time, Callidus joined them, more out of pride that his friend had scored his first goal against the Gryffindors.  Draco seemed like a bit of a selfish player who didn’t want to pass the Quaffle, but apparently, he wasn’t too bad of an athlete.

The next score was made by the Gryffindors, but that was followed by three consecutive goals by the Slytherins.  The Slytherin team, with their new brooms, were badly thrashing the Gryffindors.  As the game progressed, the Slytherins became increasingly smug, scoring more and more goals.  At this point, it was obvious that the only way the Gryffindors would win was if their seeker caught the snitch, and none of them thought that Ginny Weasley had a chance.  Even though Harry was untried and untested, the Slytherins were convinced that the Nimbus 2001 gave him enough of an advantage to beat Ginny (unless he made an unfathomably stupid move.)  Thus, even though the chasers and beaters continued to give the game their all, attention started to turn towards the two seekers.

As though realizing that the game depended on the seekers, the beaters changed the direction of their focus.  Rather than attempting to protect their chasers from the Bludgers, or aiming the Bludgers at the chasers, they started aiming the Bludgers at the seekers.  Once one of the seekers were taken out, they knew the game would be done.  But the situation had become difficult for the seekers because raindrops were starting to fall from the heavy clouds above their heads.

 “And up goes the Bludger!” Jordan proclaimed.  “Oh, close one!  Harry Potter, the Slytherin’s new seeker, barely escapes!  Looks like the Bludger took a few bristles off the end of his broom!”

 “It’s nothing personal, Harry!” one of the Weasley twins called out.

 “It’s taking any advantage we can!” the other Weasley twin finished, shooting him one of the Weasley’s signature mischievous grins.

But if the Gryffindor beaters could be ruthless, the Slytherin beaters could be far worse.  The Slytherins didn’t care if Slytherin’s seeker was just a slip of a first-year girl.  What was important was completely eliminating the Gryffindor’s chances.

 “The Bludger flies towards Ginny Weasley - Oh, Ouch!” Jordan winced.  “Did it get her?  We’re losing visibility because of all this rain.  Oh nope!  Looks like it just caught the edge of her robes.  Good thing!  Gryffindor’s new seeker has a lot of potential!  Johnson has the Quaffle - is she going to make it?  Fantastic maneuver as she avoids Malfoy - look at that grace!  Gorgeous!  - erm - I meant her flying was gorgeous, Professor - er - She angles upwards - feints  - hits the edge of the hoop, and She Scores!!  That brings Gryffindor up to thirty against Slytherin’s lead of eighty points!”

The Gryffindors may have been far behind, but they loyally cheered for their team, feeling like every goal was well deserved.  In contrast, the Slytherins mocked and jeered.  But suddenly, the seeker’s movements seemed to change.  Ginny’s posture became straighter, like a hunting dog that had caught on to a scent, and seconds later, Harry too, had leaned forward on his broom, ready for a chase.  Harry and Ginny finally had their chance to show their worth.

Knowing that the game might be drawing to a close, the beaters on both teams became even more aggressive.  With the cold downpour, both teams wanted to win and get out of their wet robes.  Both Slytherins and Gryffindors watched with rapt fascination as the two seekers zoomed around the iron Bludgers, executing impressively agile moves as they both chased the tiny golden snitch.  In that moment, Callidus couldn’t deny that Ginny actually was a good flyer.  But then again, so too was Harry.  Callidus had a feeling that even without the new broom, Harry would be an amazing flyer - as Callidus watched, it was almost as if Harry was one with his broom.

Callidus wasn’t the only one impressed with Harry’s skills.

 “Flint found a really good one,” he heard Slytherin girl observe.  “Who would have thought that Harry Potter would be that good of a flyer?  I heard he wasn’t even raised in the magical world!”

 “Yeah, Potter’s got talent,” another Slytherin interjected.  “I thought Flint put him on the team because of his fame, but I guess he’s got skill after all.”

 “Potter and Weasley are both reaching for the snitch - and -” Jordan gasped.   “Foul!  What a dirty, Slytherin trick - Potter tries to knock Weasley off her broom!”

Callidus raised his eyebrows.  He didn’t think Harry would be that sort of player - but then again, Harry had developed a dark streak lately.

 “Oh Merlin!” Jordan exclaimed.  “She elbows him right back!  Did you see that everyone!!  Way to go Ginny!!  Gryffindors can play dirty too!  Did you see that?!”

By this time, Madam Hooch was furiously blowing her whistle because both the Slytherins and Gryffindors had committed fouls.  The interruption was enough to snap Harry out of his aggression, and Callidus noticed the sheepish look that crossed his face.  Even from a distance, Callidus saw Harry’s mouth form the words: “sorry” to Ginny, who nodded with embarrassment, and apologized right back.

The fouls meant that the seekers had both lost sight of the snitch, and everyone returned their attention from the seekers to the chasers.  With the torrent of rain, some of the less enthusiastic fans started to worry about how long the game would extend, but it wasn’t long before the seekers caught sight of the snitch again.  This time, it was Harry who spotted it first.  The two of them raced for the golden ball, managing to keep their plays legal as they flew with remarkable agility.

Harry and Ginny were almost neck-to-neck, though Harry was just a bit closer.  It looked like a sure thing, but then one of the Weasley twins cracked their bat against a Bludger, and the iron ball soared straight towards Harry.

The Slytherins, who were watching with rapt attention cried out in dismay.  True, the Slytherins were already ahead, but if the Gryffindors caught the snitch, it would mean that they had lost.  Harry appeared to have noticed the Bludger, flying straight at him.  Instinctively, he knew that trying to fly out of the way would give Ginny the edge she needed to catch the snitch.  He acted without thinking.  Instead of guiding his broom out of the way, he changed his grip until he was hanging upside-down on his broom as the Bludger whooshed past him.

 “Potter executes the sloth grip roll to avoid the Bludger!” Jordan proclaim.  “Is this really his first game?  And both seekers are reaching for the snitch - who will get it first?  What’s this?!  They’ve both made a grab for it -”

The crowds leaned forward, or zoomed in with their omnioculars, trying to understand what had happened.  Both Harry and Ginny appeared to be holding onto the snitch - but how could that be?

 “Un-bee-lee-vable!” Jordan cried.  “The seekers have each got the snitch by a wing!  Omniocular replays confirm that Potter and Weasley caught the snitch at the same time !  Has this ever happened in the history of Quidditch here at Hogwarts?”

The Slytherins seemed to realize the implication of this, because they had already erupted in wild cheers.  If the seekers had indeed tied for the catch, it meant Slytherins had won, by virtue of their higher score.  The Gryffindors were clearly conflicted.  On one hand, they were proud of their seeker.  On the other hand, they had lost.

The players all descended down to the green, and Madam Hooch made them all shake hands.  All the Slytherins did so with ill grace, behaving like insufferably smug winners, except Harry, who had developed a great deal of respect for his opponent’s flying.  Harry knew how much of an advantage their brooms had provided, and he saw no reason to rub in the Gryffindor’s loss.  Plus, he was still embarrassed by how aggressive he had gotten earlier, wondering what had come over him.

Callidus couldn’t help noticing the way Ginny’s face turned rather shockingly red as Harry shook her hand and congratulated her.  He must have had a lot of positive things to say, because she looked like she was simultaneously about to burst from happiness, as well as die on the spot.  An amused smile pulled at Callidus’s lips.  He followed the crowd of Slytherins down the stairs, and headed towards the green to personally congratulate his brothers/friends.  As he looked towards the Gryffindor side of the stand, he couldn’t help feeling absurdly amused by how Caiside’s face must look, as she realized that she would have to wear a pointy hat for an entire day.

Chapter Text

When Callidus peeled his eyes open the following morning, the first thing he felt was a sense of disorientation.  The lighting seemed off, and he realized that he had slept in far later than usual.  After yesterday’s rainfall, it was a clear day, and light shone brightly through the water of the lake.  As the fog in his head cleared, he realized that he, Harry, and Draco (as well as nearly all of Slytherin), had stayed up to a ridiculously late hour, celebrating their Quidditch victory.  When he looked over towards Harry’s and Draco’s beds, he could see that their bed hangings were still drawn closed.

He stretched, and sat up, blinking tiredly.  Not wanting to wait until Harry and Draco woke up, he decided to get dressed and head up to the Great Hall on his own, bringing a book with him so that he’d have something to read.  As Callidus entered through the double doors of the Great Hall, he noticed that most of the Slytherin table was empty.  In his year, only Theodore Nott was sitting at the table, his nose in a book as he absently took a sip of orange juice.  But Nott was of no interest.  What was interesting was the sight that greeted him at the Gryffindor table.

As he looked in the direction of the lions, he immediately noticed the pitch-black pointy hat sitting on Caiside’s auburn head, and as her gaze met with his, she narrowed her eyes, as if to say: ‘I’ll get you for this.’  Callidus couldn’t resist the slow smirk that spread across his face.  He noticed that Caiside wasn’t the only one in a black witches’ hat.  Hermione was also wearing a hat, as if trying to show solidarity.  He shook his head.  Hermione was far too nice.  But it had been very satisfying winning the bet against Caiside, not because he had anything against Caiside, but because it was fun to win.  Callidus couldn’t help but feel optimistic about the day ahead.

Sitting down at his usual spot, Callidus nodded at Nott before opening his book, and slowly working his way through his food.  The material was interesting enough that he lost track of time, and started when Harry and Draco sat down at his side.

 “How did you manage to get up so early?” Harry asked groggily, before picking up a glass of juice and taking a sip.  Callidus raised his eyebrows as he looked up at Harry’s hair.  Harry’s hair was usually a wild mass on the top of his head, but somehow, it looked worse today than usual.  Combined with the dark circles under his eyes, Harry looked almost ghoulish.  Having gotten into the habit of using his Grease-B-Gone potion more often than not, even Callidus looked better today than Harry did.  Draco, who looked just as exhausted as Harry, managed to still make an effort to look put-together.

Callidus shrugged.  “I woke when I woke.  It was late for me.”

Harry hummed, as if it was too much effort to formulate a coherent reply, and began to eat his breakfast.

 “Callidus.”  Callidus looked up at the sound of Draco’s voice and raised an eyebrow.  “Why are the Gryffindor girls wearing pointed hats?  At least Hermione and Caiside are.  Are they trying to bring back traditional fashions?”

Callidus snorted, looking towards the Gryffindor table and feeling tickled with amusement once again.  “Nothing of the sort.  They just happened to bet on the wrong Quidditch team.”

 “They bet against us?” Draco’s tone was incredulous.

 “They’re nah goin’ t’ beh on th’ oppthite team,” Harry interjected, and Draco cringed, seeing his friend talking with his mouth full.

 “Please Harry, it’s too early for that sort of thing.  You’re making me feel sick.”

 “Indeed Harry - Draco’s delicate sensibilities must be protected,” Callidus drawled, his eyes still alight with amusement.

Harry swallowed his food.  “I said, they’re not going to bet on us.  I mean, if I was a Gryffindor, I’d bet on my own team, even if I thought they were going to lose.  People are supposed to be loyal to their own Houses.”

Draco shrugs.  “Sounds like a stupid strategy.”

Harry raised his eyebrows sceptically.  “Are you saying you’d ever bet against Slytherin?”

Draco scoffed.  “No.  Because Slytherins would never lose.  We’re too clever for that.”

 “Spoken like a true Slytherin,” Callidus observed.

 “So we’re going to look for the secret chamber today,” Harry changed the topic, once he finished all his food.

Draco and Callidus nodded in agreement.  “Just think of all the things we could do if we had our own secret room!”

 “We’re almost more than halfway done searching the first floor,” Harry remarked.  “Just don’t forget to try the password, ‘Open.’”

By the time all of the trio had finished their breakfast, the Gryffindor girls had already left the Great Hall, so Callidus didn’t have the chance to give Caiside any more smug looks.  He was looking forward to searching for the secret chamber with his friends/brothers, even if some part of him still doubted its existence.  Lately, Harry and Draco had been so busy with Quidditch practice, that it felt like he hardly had the chance to see them.  Even if the other students gave the Slytherins suspicious or confused looks, it was worth it to spend time with them.

The trio began to search where the had left off, keeping their eye out for any details that might hint at some sort of secret entrance.  Eventually, Draco wandered off in different direction and Callidus and Harry had a chance to speak.

 “So you spoke to the girls?” Harry asked.  “About the magazines and stuff?”

Callidus nodded.  “I asked Hermione about it since she usually aims to be the expert at everything.  She didn't offer any particularly useful ideas for specific magazines however, she was able to point me to a service that owls muggle items or subscriptions.”

Callidus thought back to that day in the library with the girls.  

 “I wanted to get a subscription to New Scientist and National Geographic but the owl subscription fees are terribly exorbitant,” Hermione had told him.  At which point Caiside and Ginny were so intrigued by the idea of muggle science that the group of them had gotten carried away by the topic.  It had, in truth, been a fascinating conversation.  While Callidus definitely preferred the wizarding world to the muggle one, he still appreciated knowledge and it was interesting to learn about the advancements that had been made in the time period that remained a blank in Callidus's memory.  Technology, in particular, had come a long way.

Callidus returned his attention to Harry, who was saying: “That's awesome!  A full subscription?  Heh - so instead of her receiving just one muggle magazine, she'll have to get one every month.  How much is it?”

 “I think she said thirty galleons a year.  Maybe more.  That doesn’t include the subscription to the magazine itself - that’s just the owl service.”

Harry hummed. “That's a lot.  Well, I think it would be worth it to humiliate Rowle.  She deserves it.”

Callidus smirked.  “That and worse.  I have actually taken some time to research muggle magazines and I did stumble across one that would work.”

Harry lifted his eyebrows.  “Yeah?”

Callidus nodded.  “It has an odd name.  'A Bear’s Life.’ And it features burly and hairy men.”

Harry scrunched up his face.  “Why?”

 “I haven't a clue.  Muggles are interested in all manner of strange things.  Perhaps it's a type of muggle style.”

Harry laughed.  “D’you think so?  I don't remember ever hearing about anything like that when I lived with my aunt and uncle.  But if a style like that existed, they probably wouldn't have told me.  I don't have any other ideas though so let's go with that.”  Harry grinned.  “Could you imagine everyone’s reaction if they saw some big hairy muggle on the cover of a magazine?”

An amused smile crossed Callidus’s face.  Being able to witness Rowle’s, and the rest of the Slytherin’s reactions would be incredible.

Their discussion was interrupted by Draco, who gestured in the direction he came from and told them: “There's no secret chamber back that way.  Where next?”

For the next hour, they checked the nearby corridors, alcoves and rooms.  Callidus didn’t have an opportunity to speak to Harry about pranking Rowle, but he was able to discuss other things.

 “So why did you commit that foul against Ginny?” Callidus asked Harry.  “Did Flint tell you to do that?”

Harry’s expression became sheepish, while Draco declared: “Of course.  Though he said to use it as a last resort, if things happen to go bad for us.  I didn’t think you’d do it though, Harry.”

 “I didn’t mean to!” Harry defended.  “I - I told myself I wouldn’t commit any fouls.  But I just got caught up in the moment.”

Draco smirked.  “I thought it was awesome.”  His expression quickly changed when he noticed Callidus’s irritated look.  “Not that I wanted to see Ginny hurt!”

Callidus shook his head.  “I noticed that you didn’t commit any fouls yourself, Draco.”

 “No,” Draco admitted.  “But we were already thrashing the Gryffindors pretty badly.”  He shrugged lightly.  “There was no need.  And we’re going to thrash the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as well.  Thanks to our new brooms, the Quidditch cup is pretty much ours.”

Bringing up Quidditch mean that Harry and Draco soon fell into an extended conversation about their next matches, as well as a lively debate about their favourite professional players.  It was a while before Callidus and Harry had the chance to speak alone again.

 “We should subscribe to that magazine right away,” Harry decided.  “But I think we need to do something more.  If I have to keep staring at Rowle’s pompous face during our ARMED meetings, I'd be tempted to hex her on the spot.”

Callidus shrugged.  “We can take opportunities as they arise.”

 “Yes,” Harry mused.  “We can, can't we.”

They once again lost the chance to speak when Draco once again joined them.  For a while, Harry and Draco discussed more Quidditch.  Their focus was on their next practices (since Flint wanted them to learn some new maneuvers.)  Then Harry mentioned a few new spells he had been reading about that would be useful for pranking.  Draco assumed it was for the purpose of pranking Lockhart or anyone else that might happen to cross their path, but Callidus had a feeling that Harry was specifically seeking out spells that he could use against Rowle.

The trio continued their seemingly fruitless search, but Callidus and Harry were then distracted by a group of seventh years passing by the opposite direction in the corridor.  It was Rowle and a group of her friends.

Callidus and Harry exchanged looks and Harry silently mouthed the word ‘opportunity,’ before tilting his head towards Draco, hinting that Callidus should do something about the blond.  Callidus gave Draco an uncertain look before he nodded.

 “So, er - Draco -” Callidus began, causing Draco to look towards him, while Harry quickly turned around to trail after the seventh years.

Draco, who had seen Harry’s movement, watched him leave before turning to Callidus and arching his eyebrows.  “Yes?  Where’s Harry going?”

 “Oh, he must have missed a spot.  I wanted to bring this up while Harry is gone since - hm - Harry would probably make a big deal out of it if he knew.  

 “Oh?”

Callidus scoured through his mind trying to think of something to say.  “I - hm - heard that you are - well - betrothed to Greengrass.”

 “What?!” Draco squawked.  “Where did you hear that?  I heard no such thing!”

 “Really?  You two would have made a striking pair, being so pale.  Rather like your mother and father.”

Draco cringed.  “That’s just - creepy.”  He shook his head.  “I don’t want to imagine being married to Daphne.  She may have good blood but - Merlin - she’s just so annoying.”

Harry returned soon after, but instead of looking triumphant, he looked rather pale and disturbed.  Something must have gone wrong.

 “Did you find anything?” Draco asked, assuming that Harry was searching for the secret chamber.

 “Huh?  Oh - er - no,” Harry distractedly replied.

Draco huffed.  “I really want to find this secret chamber, but searching every crevice is an ordeal.  It’s too bad we can’t just order a house-elf to do it for us.”

Harry laughed weakly.  “I don’t mind it.  It’s kind of fun - it reminds me of a treasure hunt.”

Draco perked up.  “Do you suppose there could be treasure in the secret chamber?  There might be, mightn’t there?  I mean, last year, we almost found the philosopher's stone.  If not for Quiver -”  he trailed of, dreaming of possibilities.

Harry, who no longer looked so disturbed, smiled and agreed.

That evening, at their supper in the Great Hall, Callidus caught an inkling of what may have gone wrong earlier when Harry tried to prank Rowle.  The older Slytherins were astir with talk, looking either agitated or indignant.  Their usually calm and cold facades had been shaken, and many of them were glaring at the other House tables.

 “What’s going on?” Bulstrode (who normally seemed to be rather unobservant) asked.

 “Don’t you know?” Parkinson responded, though it was evident that was was thrilled to have gossip to share from the glow of keenness in her eyes.  “Someone attacked one of the seventh years - a friend of Rowle’s.  She’s a quiet and nice girl - I don’t know if you know her - her name is Dove.  Jessamine Dove - nevermind, that’s not important.  What is important is that almost everyone likes her.  She might be quiet, but she doesn’t step on any toes and is willing to do favours and expect little in return.  Everyone is furious that she got hexed.”

 “Do - do they know who did it?” Harry questioned weakly, his face pale.

Parkinson shook her head.  “No one is really sure.  But everyone suspects the Gryffindors.”

 “The Gryffindors?” Harry echoed.

 “Mm hm,” Parkinson nodded.  “Who else would have a motive?  As I said, Dove doesn’t have enemies.  Not that anyone knows of.  The seventh year Ravenclaws are all far too busy worrying about their N.E.W.T.s to bother anyone.  And, well - Hufflepuffs are Hufflepuffs.  Gryffindors are so volatile and emotional.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they were just sore losers about the Quidditch match, and I’m not the only one who thinks that.”

 “Stupid Gryffindors,” Bulstrode muttered.

Davis shook her head.  “I know Quidditch is important, but why didn’t they try and hex someone who was actually on the team?  It’s such a low blow.  Those Gryffindors sicken me.”

Callidus and Harry shared a look, and Callidus noticed that Harry’s expression was close to nauseous.  Even though the Slytherins weren’t entirely sure of who had attacked Dove, they were all too ready to believe that it was the Gryffindors without question.

It wasn’t until the late evening, when Draco was busy washing up, that Callidus and Harry were able to talk.

 “What happened?” Callidus demanded.  “I thought you were trying to get Rowle.”

 “I was!” Harry defended guiltily.  “I was aiming for her, and - you know - it’s not like I have bad aim or anything.  But -” Harry bit down on his lower lip, “- well, she just happened to drop something at that moment and bent down to pick it up.  My hex hit that Dove girl instead.  I didn’t mean to do it!”

Callidus winced.  It sounded like a moment of pure bad luck.  “Perhaps this whole matter will blow over soon.”

 “I hope so,” Harry added miserably.  “I feel terrible for hitting that other girl.  And I can’t even go apologize to her.”

Callidus nodded in agreement.  “No.  That would make things infinitely worse.”

 “Yeah,” Harry sighed.  The fact was that as Slytherins, they never should have been attempting to jinx or hex another Slytherin in the first place.  Slytherins value House unity, and every Slytherin knew that to attack another Slytherin was a violation of their codes.  If one ever had a conflict with another Slytherin, it might be fair to verbally eviscerate them, or to ostracise them.  But it was never acceptable to use magic on another Slytherin unless it was within certain narrow constraints, such as duels, or with express permission, such as practicing Dark Magic.

What Callidus and Harry were attempting to do to Rowle was wrong by every Slytherin measure, but they both hated her enough that it had seemed worth it to risk humiliating her.  Unfortunately, Harry’s misstep created large problems for them.  If the Slytherins felt like they were under attack, they would act more cautiously and defensively than ever.

 “Let’s just keep our heads down in the next while,” Callidus suggested, and Harry nodded morosely.  Shortly after, Draco returned from the bathroom, and the topic shifted to other things.

Callidus went to bed that night with a feeling in his gut that the attack on Dove wouldn’t simply blow over, and he was soon proven right.  All it took was for a few Slytherins to claim that they had seen some Gryffindors acting suspiciously, and suddenly, everyone knew that it had been those ‘unruly and vulgar’ Gryffindors who had hexed ‘poor and sweet’ Jessamine Dove.  It didn’t help that on top of being good-natured and amiable, Dove was also rather baby-faced.

Harry became besieged with a guilt, knowing that not only was he responsible for Dove being hexed, but that it was he and not the Gryffindors, that deserved blame.  But neither Callidus nor Harry could speak of it to anyone - not even Draco.  There was no way they could ever reveal that they had betrayed the Slytherin tenets.  

Because of Harry’s guilt, neither of them did anything to act against Rowle - not while a fresh new feud had developed between the upper year Slytherins and Gryffindors.  Unfortunately, this feud only meant that Rowle was even more unpleasant to be around.  She capitalized on her friendship with Dove in order to become more overt of her disdain for half-bloods and muggleborns, and of course, most of the older Slytherins showed their approval with strong agreement.

Harry’s small action had triggered a landslide that made anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn sentiments much worse within Slytherin, causing renewed hatred in the upper years against their Gryffindor peers.  It was a terrible climate for attempting any pranks.  For the time being, Callidus’s and Harry’s hands were tied.

Chapter Text

November quickly became December hostilities between the Slytherins and Gryffindors only seemed to worsen.  Last year, when conflict arose between the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors, it hadn’t been a big deal.  After all, first years were expected to be immature, and the older students didn’t see a reason to let themselves be pulled into petty childish drama.  However, when sixth and seventh years were engaged in strife against the Gryffindors, it was considered ‘serious.’  The older students had enough respect and power to let their battles become the battles of the younger students.  And while Hogwarts could hardly be called a war zone, Filch and the professors were busier than ever, giving out detentions, and trying to stop jinxes and hexes from being cast in hallways.

Of course, the older Slytherins tended to be much more sneaky than their younger counterparts.  Many of them (excluding Flint and his ilk) were more likely to try and subtly sabotage the Gryffindors than to try and hex them in hallways.  The result of the feud was that the atmosphere in Hogwarts felt much more antagonistic than before.  The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws kept their heads down, not wanting to get involved.  Suspicious and hostile looks increased.  And of course, anytime anything went wrong, the Slytherins or Gryffindors were blamed.

During this period, Harry and Callidus managed to find more opportunities to try and hex Rowle.  But they quickly learned that there was no real pleasure in it when she thought it was just those ‘nasty Gryffindors.’  She never believed that she was being specifically targeted - rather, she believed she was being targeted simply because she was a Slytherin.  Instead of becoming cautious and timid like Lockhart, it seemed to make her more arrogant and rude.

To Callidus, it was starting to feel pointless to even try and do anything to Rowle.  It wasn’t that he felt like giving up - it was simply that he had other priorities to focus on, such as the progress of his potions projects.  However, Harry was more determined than ever to try and take Rowle down.  It required a personal solution, and since Callidus didn’t feel like devoting energy to the project, he told Harry that he would support him, but he preferred to use his efforts on other things.

It was early in the month of December when Callidus finally managed to create a stable and effective container for his vapourized potions.  The containers weren’t perfect - if it were up to Callidus, the containers themselves would also vapourize, leaving no evidence behind.  Instead, the potions containers were sturdy cylindrical vials, made of a strong inert material that had a special magical seal.  Hard impact, such as throwing the vials, would cause the magical seals to activate and vapourize the potions within.  It was a surprisingly simple solution, and Callidus wondered why he didn’t think of it months ago.  It was fortunate that he had received help from Madam Filodoxos.  That had provided the biggest clue to solve the container issue.

Knowing that he finally had the last piece of his project in place meant that the trio could finally go forward with their prank.  Everything else that they had been doing in the prior months had been minor, and mostly involved embarrassing Lockhart.  Now, they could finally implement a prank on a larger scale.  Unfortunately, the feud between the Slytherins and Gryffindors created a very negative situation, and Callidus worried about somehow making the situation worse.  If Hermione, Caiside and Ginny weren’t his friends, perhaps he wouldn’t care quite so much, but the Gryffindor girls gave him insight on the ‘other side,’ and while he would never truly be a Gryffindor sympathizer, he didn’t hate them either.

Because of this, Callidus found himself keeping updates on his project to himself.  It felt strange to intentionally be vague about his progress to Harry and Draco, but the idea of a large scale prank in the current antagonistic climate made him feel troubled and uneasy.  Of course, he still reported his results to Professor Slughorn, who had declared: “Brilliant!  Utterly brilliant, m’boy!  I knew you wouldn’t disappointment when I gave you access to that lab!  You’re going to go far, mark my words.  Do you plan on bringing your results to market?”

Callidus had modestly told Slughorn that he wanted to focus on his schooling, rather than expending too much effort bringing his ideas to the marketplace.  He didn’t mention that he was worried about vapourized potions being abused.  Slughorn may have been supportive, but he was also still a Slytherin, and Callidus preferred to keep his cards close.

If Callidus had thought it would be difficult to keep his secrets, he was soon proven wrong.  Harry and Draco both seemed so preoccupied that Callidus probably could have hidden a murder victim under his bed and his friends wouldn’t have noticed.  Quidditch still took up a great deal of Harry and Draco’s time and effort, but Harry’s attention also seemed to be fixated on how he could ‘bring Rowle down.’  At first, Callidus didn’t think much of it, but when he noticed Harry reading up on dark spells instead of doing homework, he began to worry.  Harry seemed to be getting obsessive about vengeance against Rowle.  That intensity might have served Harry well on the Quidditch pitch or when it came to mastering Transfigurations, but it didn’t strike Callidus as being healthy for Harry to be so determined to ruin the seventh year.

But when Callidus brought up his concerns to Harry, his raven-haired friend shrugged him off.

 “I’m still getting my homework done,” Harry defended.  “I’m not sacrificing myself just to take down Rowle.  It’s just - interesting, all right?  I just like thinking about how I’m going to do it.”

 “In our last two Transfiguration classes, you weren’t the first to successfully make the Transfiguration,” Callidus noted.

 “So?” Harry retorted.  “I don’t need to be first.  McGonagall hasn’t said anything.”

Callidus snorted.  “No.  She has just been giving you looks instead.  You really think someone like McGonagall wouldn’t notice?  Listen.  I agree that knocking Rowle off her pedestal is important.  But there are other important things to worry about as well.  We’ll figure something out with Rowle.  But it bothers me to see this eating you up.”

Harry huffed.  “It’s not eating me up,” he grumbled.  “But -” he sighed, “I guess I should focus more on school stuff.”

Harry didn’t sound to convinced, but Callidus didn’t feel like pushing him.  He wasn’t like the girls where ‘mothering’ his friends came easily.  If anything, Callidus didn’t want to be stuck in a role of telling his friends what to do, even if he did secretly think that he had better judgement than they did.  But there was nothing to really do other than to let the matter go.

Though Callidus had finally reached success in his personal potions project, he found himself faced with new problems due to the Slytherin-Gryffindor conflict.  Prior to the older students’ feud, no one had really cared that Callidus had befriended a group of Gryffindor girls.  True, many Slytherins thought it was strange, and some speculated that Callidus might have unsavoury motives for spending time with the girls, but it hadn’t been a big deal.

However, after the new feud, Callidus started to receive more and more suspicious looks from both Slytherins and Gryffindors.  It was reaching a point where Callidus was starting to feel uncomfortable.  He wasn’t the sort of person who enjoyed attention simply for the sake of having attention.  Knowing that both the Slytherins and Gryffindors were questioning his actions made him self-conscious and jumpy.

Callidus wasn’t the only one.  As he sat down at the library table where Hermione, Caiside and Ginny usually sat, Ginny remarked: “Hi, Callidus.  Have you been getting a whole bunch of looks and comments lately?”

Callidus twisted his lips.  He wasn’t surprised by Ginny’s comment but he wasn’t pleased to hear it.  “It’s been - an unfortunate turn of events.”

 “That’s putting it lightly,” Caiside muttered.  “I’ve heard the word ‘snake’ uttered more in the past week than I’ve heard the rest of the year.”

 “Ron accused me of conspiring,” Ginny piped.

Caiside rolled her eyes.  “Knowing what I know of your brother, he probably thought you were conspiring far earlier than this feud ever began.  He’s a suspicious one, Ron is.”

 “I thought he was a terrible person almost all of last year,” Hermione recalled.  “But now that I’ve had time to think about it, I wonder if he’s just defensive.  My parents always like to remind me of the merits of reason and logic, and it’s the most logical answer I’ve come up with.”

Caiside sighed.  “Why must you always be so generous-minded?  The point is, this situation is getting uncomfortable.”

Callidus tensed up.  “Are you suggesting -”

 “We’re not suggesting that we don’t want you to meet us here anymore!” Caiside quickly added, as if sensing his thoughts.  “Just -”

 “It might be best for us to find a new place to meet and study.  Some place with more - privacy,” Hermione finished.

Ginny nodded.  “Maybe then, my brothers’ll get off my case.”

 “I think they’re just trying to protect you,” Hermione opined.

Ginny’s expression turned stubborn.  “Do I seem like the type of person that needs protecting?  I can take care of myself!”

 “I know - but your brothers are probably predisposed to see you as -”

 “A weakling?” Ginny questioned angrily.  “Because I’m not.”

 “So - where would you want to meet?” Callidus cut in, not wanting to listen to the girls bickering.  “Even if we meet elsewhere, won’t people notice that we’re no longer in the library?”

Hermione sighed.  “That’s true.  But there’ll still be less eyes, and perhaps people will focus on other things.  My parents have also told me that people often notice less than you think.  It wouldn’t be accurate to assume that everyone knows what we would be up to.”

Callidus frowned.  He could see that being true of Gryffindors but not of Slytherins.  Nonetheless, the thought of meeting somewhere other than the library struck him as a good idea.  Especially since Ginny still wasn’t very good at moderating her volume and continued to get dirty looks from Madam Pince.

 “We don’t have any place in mind yet,” Caiside told him.

 “But we’ve been looking!” Ginny interjected.  “With place as big as Hogwarts there has to be someplace good we can meet.  It’s just too bad that a lot of the empty classrooms are kept locked up.”

Caiside sighed and nodded.  “And the empty ones that aren’t locked are used.”

 “Have you tried Alohomora ?” Callidus asked, referring to the unlocking charm.

Hermione’s expression became uncertain.  “I don’t want to have to break rules -”

 “I don’t recall hearing any rules that stated that students couldn’t unlock doors,” Callidus pointed out.

 “That’s true!” Ginny chimed.

 “But there are rules against using spells in the halls,” Hermione noted.

 “And you think the Gryffindors and Slytherins who are casting spells at each other care about that sort of thing?” Caiside questioned.  “If everyone else is already casting spells, it would be foolish of us not to.”

Callidus smirked at Caiside.  “How very Slytherin of you to think so.”

Caiside shrugged.  “Slytherins don’t have a monopoly on cleverness.  You may perceive the lot of us Gryffindors as reckless and foolish, but I believe we use it to our advantage.”

 “That or Gryffindors just happen to have the luck of having Dumbledore on their side,” Callidus drawled.  “Well, what do you plan in the interim?  Will we continue to meet here?”

The girls nodded.  “Just because we’re being accused of fraternizing with so-called ‘snakes,’ it doesn’t mean that we’d ever abandon you,” Hermione reassured him.

 “Besides, Gryffindors are supposed to be brave!” Ginny declared.  “And we stick by our friends.”

Callidus felt both embarrassed but pleased by the support of the girls, and Caiside, who noticed his expression, gave him an amused smile.  “That we do, Ginny,” she agreed.

The group soon turned their attention to their school work, but the girls’ words continued to echo in Callidus’s mind.   He never imagined himself being in a position where he'd call a group of Gryffindor his friends, and his memories of his mother had done nothing to endear him to Gryffindors as a whole.  Still, now that he had befriended them, he was glad to have done so.  The three girls might not have changed his opinion of Gryffindors as a whole, but they did give him a more nuanced understanding of the lions’ mindsets.  

In the days that followed, the students that weren’t preoccupied with the Slytherin-Gryffindor feud began to discuss their Christmas or Yuletide plans.  There was a mixture of excitement as well as anxiety in the air.  After all, the issue with the Orange Madness was worse outside of Hogwarts.  More than one student had received letters from home suggesting that it might be safest to remain at the school over the holidays.  Callidus, however, wasn’t in this situation.  Not only were the Filodoxos suggesting that he spend Yuletide with them, but Draco wanted Harry and Callidus to visit the manor over the holidays.

Callidus felt conflicted.  He would have preferred to spend the holidays with Harry and Draco, but the Filodoxos had been so welcoming that he couldn’t help feeling guilty.  His Slytherin side argued that staying with the Malfoys would serve his self-interests better.  However, the time spend with his Gryffindor friends must have been rubbing off on him because he felt like he ought to be showing his adopted family his gratitude.

Since neither the Malfoys nor the Filodoxos demanded an immediate answer, Callidus still had time to think about the whole matter.  While some part of him looked forward to the break, he mostly felt a constant gnawing of low-level anxiety as he tried to endure the Slytherin-Gryffindor hostilities, worried about assignments and examinations, and debated where to spend to his holidays.

There was one major positive in his life: since he finished his vapourized potion project, it meant that he was free to start a new project.  He already knew he wanted to do something related to ‘seeing’ magic, and had already started reading everything he could find about the topic from the library.  The material was, of course, scant, but he did find some information about owl-sight, as well as other tangentially related information.  The new project, combined with Callidus’s desire to avoid the conflict around him, meant that he ended up spending longer hours in his lab as he lost track of time.

It was on one of these evenings that Callidus abruptly sat up from his notes, realizing that it was getting perilously close to curfew.  He shook his head.  If he continued such late hours, Harry and Draco would start asking questions, and Callidus wasn’t in a frame of mind to handle questions.  Being around Gryffindors really must have been affecting him - thinking about not telling Harry and Draco that he had finished his friendliness potion bomb was making him feel guilty.  Was there really a need for secrecy?  Was he really doubting Harry’s and Draco’s intentions so much?  Besides, he was in control of the potion and if he wanted, he could lower the dose substantially so that however the vapourized potion was used, the effects would be mild.  With a sigh, Callidus decided he should at least tell Harry.  What had he been thinking, by trying to keep the information to himself?  Harry was Harry, and it was probably just paranoia that kept Callidus quiet.

Thusly decided, Callidus felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders.  He put aways his books and notes, feeling much more eager to return to the common room.  If anything, he was sure that Harry would be pleased to hear that the friendliness bomb was finished, and wouldn’t have any intention of using it maliciously unlike Draco, who was loyal to his own friends, but seemed to have little to no empathy for anyone else.  

Callidus slung his rucksack across his shoulder and closed the lab door.  He was (perhaps foolishly) distracted as he turned a corner, and found himself face to face with a group of four fifth year Slytherins. The fifth years seemed to be loitering, and all of them looked towards Callidus when they spotted him.  Their expressions as openly dark and cruel as Marcus Flint’s.  A chill of foreboding ran down Callidus’s spine.

Nonetheless, they were members of his own House, so he nodded his head respectfully and attempted to pass them by.

 “Hey.  You.  Firstie!” one of the older boys called out.

Callidus glanced towards them.  There was no one else they could have been speaking to - the corridor was empty.  “I’m a second year,” he corrected.

 “So?  Who cares.  You hang out with firsties, don’t you?”

 “Yeah, this is the one,” said the lone girl in the group.  Her expression was just as mean as her friends, and alarms were starting to ring in Callidus’s mind.  But he reminded himself that it was considered dishonourable for fellow Slytherins to hex or jinx him.  What could they do?  Try to ostracize him?  It would be unfortunate, but Callidus was certain enough of his friendships to believe Harry and Draco would still stand by him.

 “Soo,” the first, mousey-haired boy drawled.  “You’re the little traitor in our midst.  The one who spends his time with Gryffindors .”  This last word was spat out with deep loathing.  The alarms in Callidus’s mind were definitely screaming at this point.

 “I apologize but I can’t stay and chat,” Callidus told the group.  “My friends are expecting me back in the common room.”  He turned and began to walk away, but before he even managed a few steps, he felt a hand fall upon his shoulder, holding him in place.

 “I don’t think so,” the older boy declared.  

Callidus looked at the boy and narrowed his eyes, determined not to let his fear show.  “What do you want from me?”

 “We want -” the boy began.

 “No, we demand ,” the girl corrected.  

The mousey-haired boy nodded.  “We demand that you stop seeing those Gryffindors.”

 “A snake who spends his time with lions is no true snake,” another dark-skinned boy affirmed.

 “We won’t tolerate a little traitor in our midst, will we?” the girl remarked, her tone of voice filled with the promise of cruelty.  “And if you keep spending time with Gryffindors, we’re going to have to do something about it.”

 “We’ll make you scream like a little piggy.  It’s no less than what a Gryffindor would deserve,” the last boy told him, sounding far too eager for Callidus’s liking.

 “You would break the Slytherin code?” Callidus questioned with all the bravado he could muster.

 “We wouldn’t have to,” the eager boy answered.  “There are other ways.  So many other ways.” His face broke into a hungry grin.

 “And there’s no sympathy for traitors,” the mousey-haired boy pointed out.  

At this point, Callidus’s self-preservation instinct began to act.  He knew that his Gryffindor friends were planning a new place to meet.  The wise thing to do would be to lie to the Slytherins.  “I won’t meet them anymore.  I was just -” Callidus paused, “- using them.  For my own gain.  But I see now that it’s a foolish endeavour”

The girl narrowed her eyes, making her features look almost lizard-like.  “We’ll be keeping our eyes on you.  In the meantime -” she pulled out her wand, and Callidus’s eyes widened with alarm.  He tried to pull away, but the mousey-haired boy tightened his grip on Callidus’s shoulder.  The girl touched her wand to Callidus’s temple and muttered a string of syllables that Callidus didn’t recognize.  There was a faint prickly feeling from the tip of her wand, but it soon disappeared.

 “What did you do?” Callidus asked, feeling panicked.  “What did you curse me with?”

The group of fifth years smirked.  The dark-skinned boy answered.  “It wasn’t a curse.  Wasn’t a jinx or hex either, so don’t assume that we’ve broken the code.”

 “You’ll find out soon enough,” the mousey-haired boy told him with a mean smile before releasing him.  “Now get your ugly mug out of our faces.”

Callidus frowned, but he had no desire to linger, so he quickly left.  Behind him, the girl called out in a sing-song voice: “Sweet dreams, little traitor!”

The words made Callidus feel sick to his stomach.

Chapter Text

As Callidus rushed back to the Slytherin common room, he mentally assessed every part of his mind and body, trying to determine if he could feel anything different.  What had those fifth years done to him?  After pranking Lockhart for months, Callidus was no stranger to delayed spells.  Whatever the fifth years had done could potentially strike him at anytime.  On the other hand, it was noteworthy that the girl had mentioned dreams.  Had they done something that would affect his sleep or his dreams?  Callidus knew very little about such magics.  His anxiety must have shown on his face because when he sat down next to Harry and Draco, the first comments that came out of their mouths were: “You’re really late today,” and “Did something happen?  You look - upset.”

 “I -” Callidus exhaled heavily.  “A group of fifth years cornered me, and used some sort of spell on me.”

 “You were hexed?” Draco questioned, his grey eyes flashing angrily.  “Was it Gryffindors?”

Callidus shook his head.  “It was a group of Slytherins.  And I don’t think it was a hex - it was something else.”

 “Why did they corner you?” Harry wondered, obviously concerned.

 “Because of Hermione, Caiside and Ginny.  Apparently, they think I’m a traitor for befriending them.”

Draco frowned.  “While I don’t agree with befriending Gryffindors, there’s nothing wrong with Hermione, Caiside or Ginny.  Are those fifth years stupid or blind?”

Draco’s supportive comments made Callidus feel better.  It didn’t mean that other Slytherins would be so understanding, but it was still reassuring to know that his friends were backing him.  “I don’t know what they were thinking,” Callidus sighed.  “Even if they didn’t like me spending time with Gryffindors, what is a group of first or second years going to do?”

 “You said they used some kind of spell on you?” Harry queried.  “You seem - fine.  Do you feel anything weird?  Should we go to the infirmary?”

Callidus vehemently shook his head.  “No.  I don’t want to make a big deal out of this.  The last thing I need is Madam Pomfrey fussing over me.”

Harry gave him a sympathetic smile.  “Yeah, she does like to fuss.  You should have seen how she treated the team after the Quidditch game.  She just kept shaking her head and clucking her tongue.  So you don’t know what kind of spell they used?”

 “Unfortunately not,” Callidus answered.  “Though one of them made a comment about dreams.  I’m not looking forward to going to bed tonight.”

Draco knit his brows.  “If it’s to do with dreams, then it would probably be related to mind magics.  Mind magics are usually extremely difficult and can be finicky and dangerous though.”

Callidus hummed thoughtfully.  He had learned a bit about mind magic last year when he was trying to figure out whether or not Dumbledore could read minds.  He still occasionally did meditative practices to clear his mind.  Could something like that protect him?

Callidus sighed.  “Well, I told them I would stop spending time with the Gryffindors so I can only hope that they won’t bother me again.  The girls agreed a while back that we would meet somewhere else.  Apparently, they’ve faced harassment as well.”

Harry frowned.  “Really?  I s’pose I shouldn’t be so surprised.”  He huffed unhappily, tilting his head to rest on the back of the sofa.  “I just wish this stupid feud would end and we could go back to the normal rivalry.”  Harry glanced towards Callidus.  “When is your friendliness bomb going to be finished?  I’ve been thinking that something like that could help.”

Callidus arched his eyebrows.  “Oh?  What do you mean?”

 “I mean that if we could use that potion to make everyone get along - even just temporarily - then maybe people would finally see how stupid this whole thing is,” Harry clarified.

Draco nodded.  “I don't care for Gryffindors, but it would be a relief for this feud to be over.  People who are always looking over their shoulders aren't too pleasant to be around.  I mean, on top of the normal Slytherin cautiousness.”

 “You mean paranoia?” Harry corrected.

 “I mean a very much warranted self-preservation instinct,” Draco retorted, before turning back to Callidus.  “The point is, I agree with Harry.  The whole idea of a potion that makes people friendly seemed ridiculous and useless at first, but if it would calm everyone down, it would be worth it.”

 “I’m surprised to hear this sentiment from you,” Callidus told Draco.  “I would have thought you’d be reveling in a Slytherin-Gryffindor feud.”

Draco shrugged.  “I certainly enjoy tormenting the odd Gryffindor or two.  But I prefer it when they don’t expect it - not when they’re waiting for it to happen at any second.  Feels too much like hexing puffskeins in a basket.  Ugly puffskeins.”

 “Yeah,” Harry agreed, “well, not the part about them looking like ugly puffskeins.  Or the tormenting part.”  He shook his head.  “The point is, when is your potion going to be done?”

 “Well - about that,” Callidus gave his friends an uncertain look.  “It’s finished.”

 “Finished?”  Harry echoed.  “As if in - finished, finished?  Completely finished?  Really?”

Callidus nodded guiltily, wondering if his friends would question him further.  But Harry was so excited that all he said was: “That’s awesome!  This means we can finally use it!  We should do it soon.  How long will it take you to get the doses ready?”

 “It shouldn’t take too long,” Callidus told him.  “Having containers prepared takes a bit longer.  But I could always use larger containers filled with more of the potion.  The challenging part would be collecting all the containers after the potion is dispersed.”

Harry hummed.  “I think we could easily have it all planned out.  We have Camouflage Potion after all.  As for using the potion itself - I had a great idea to ensure that no one knows it was us.  I think we should give the potion to Peeves.”

Callidus arched his eyebrows.  

 “You really think you could convince Peeves to do anything for you?” Draco asked doubtfully, as he considered the poltergeist’s chaotic nature.

 “Well, he wouldn’t be doing it for me specifically,” Harry explained.  “But I know he’d do it, just for the sake of creating trouble.”

 “That’s a good point,” Draco conceded.  The trio spent the rest of the night discussing the rest of the details of the prank.  The guilt that Callidus felt from not telling his friends was quickly forgotten and replaced with a sense of anticipation.  But once it was time for bed, Callidus quickly remembered what had happened to him earlier in the evening, and though he closed his eyes and attempted to meditate, his mind was needled with a feelings of anxiety.

Eventually, he fell asleep, more from exhaustion than calmness.  As awareness returned to Callidus, he found himself in the corridors of the dungeon, filled with a sense of anticipation.  He had a fantastic idea for a potion, probably his best ever, and just had to get to his lab and create it.  He turned a corner, but then felt a strange sensation in his mind, as if it were being stretched and pulled at, like chewing gum.  The stretching feeling persisted, until it seemed to connect to something, and Callidus realized he wasn’t alone.  Usually, the presence of others was not a noteworthy event, but these people felt important.

He stopped in his steps and turned around to face the fifth year girl that had taunted him earlier.  For some reason, her face looked even more reptilian than he remembered, with her flat eyes, small nose, and thin lips.

 “Hello, little traitor,” she greeted with a toothy smile.  “My friends will be here soon.  And then we can all have a little fun.”

Callidus frowned.  “Excuse me.  I’m quite busy.”  He attempted to pass her, but then she pulled out her wand, aiming it straight at him.  Callidus froze.

With an uneasy look at the tip of her wand, Callidus reminded her: “Hexing me would be a dishonourable thing for a pure-blood to do.”

The girl raised her eyebrows, and moments later, the three fifth year boys appeared behind her in quick succession.  “Merlin, don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out,” she sniggered.  She turned to face the mousy-hair boy.  “The little idiot doesn’t even realize he’s dreaming!”

The dark-skinned boy smirked.  “Ah - a surprise then.  There’s something delightful about surprises.”

 “Yeah - it always seems to make their pain worse!” the eager boy crowed.  

 “What shall we do with him,” the girl mused, using her free hand to tap her chin.  “This is just supposed to be a little scare - to make sure that he stays away from those Gryffindors.”

 “I think we should just go for it.  Give him a full taste of what he’d get if he really is a traitor,” the mousy-haired boy opined.  “There’s no reason to go soft on him.  He isn’t even a pure-blood.”

 “Yes!  I like the idea.  I want to see him howling!” the eager boy burst out, with a hungry look in his eyes that made Callidus feel sick to his stomach.

Fear gripped at him, but Callidus knew that he wasn’t helpless.  “If this is just a dream -” he furrowed his brows in concentration, and the dungeon corridor vanished, so that Callidus was out in the woods instead.  But then, that stretched chewing gum sensation in his mind seemed to snap like an elastic, and Callidus was back in the dungeon corridors facing the four fifth years. No - he was wrong, it wasn’t a corridor, but a narrow room, for as he tried to back away, he came against a cold, hard wall.

The girl gave him a lizard-like leer.  “You think it’s that easy to get away?  My family has been practicing this form of mind-magic for generations upon generations.  It’s the sort of stuff that Euphie would love to get her hands on for ARMED, but of course, we don’t share our secrets.”

 “What have you done to me?” Callidus asked, proud that he was able to keep his voice level.

The girl shrugged one of her shoulders.  “The same as I’ve done to my friends here.  I’ve linked my consciousness to your dreams.”

Callidus narrowed his eyes.  With the force of his own mind, he materialized his wand, and sent a blasting spell towards the fifth years.  But then a horrible headache ripped through his mind, making him feel as if his brain was trying to explode out of his head, and failing to do so because of his skull.  He collapsed onto his knees and gripped his head, crying out from the awful pain.  Eventually, the feeling subsided, but by then, he was breathing heavily, and entire body ached.

 “Tsk, tsk,” the girl admonished.  “While it was clever of you to think of doing something like that, you think I would ever enter someone’s mind unprepared?  No.  I’ve been taught better than that.  By the way, how did you like that little taste of my power?  It’s just a little teaser, of course.”

 “Let me do something to him!” the eager boy blurt out.  “I wanna crucio him till he can’t see straight.”

The dark-skinned boy rolled his eyes.  “Ever since your parents started teaching you Dark Magic, you’ve been obsessed with that spell.  Don’t you have any desire to be creative?  I mean, come on - relying on crucio is just lazy.”

 “And the pain in dreams isn’t the same as pain in real life anyway,” the girl added.  “It only works insofar as the mind can imagine it.”  She gave Callidus a cruel smile.  “Fortunately for us, the mind can imagine some very horrifying things.  In fact, sometimes, it’s worse that reality.  Shall we see what your mind can imagine?”

Callidus, who was still on his knees, attempted to stand, though he had to prop himself against the wall for balance.  “I haven’t done anything wrong,” he flatly told them.  “Can you really call yourselves Slytherins, to do this to one of your own?  Or do you just get off on causing pain.”

 “Definitely the second one!” the eager boy quickly answered.  

The girl cackled.  “I’m going to have to say I agree.  But -” she paused, “it would be better for us, knowing that you actually deserved it.”

Callidus furrowed his brows.  “If you seek to cause pain, I’m surprised you’d turn against your own House.  I would have thought you’d target Gryffindors instead.”

 “That would be ideal,” the mousey-haired boy interjected.

 “Well yes - I’d love to terrorize each and every single one of them,” the girl remarked.  “And maybe the occasional Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw too.  Unfortunately for us, their sections of the castle are well protected, and my magic can’t access them while they’re in their rooms.  But lucky for us, we’ve got a little traitor to play with instead.”

 “And if anyone isn’t a true Slytherin, it’d be someone like you,” the dark-skinned boy declared.  “After all, we aren’t the ones fraternizing with the enemy.”

 “I told you, I was just using them,” Callidus repeated, feeling frantic in the face of the sadistic fifth years.

The girl’s eyes narrowed into slits.  “You know what?  I really don’t care.”  A slow smile spread across her face.  “I’m done with talking.  It makes me feel dirty, even listening to blood traitors like you.”

Desperately, Callidus tried to will himself elsewhere, but while he could get the castle walls to fade, he couldn’t escape the grip that the fourth year girl had on his mind.  At this point, all the fifth years had their wands fixed on him, but Callidus knew he couldn’t handle trying to fight them on his own.  As he put all his strength into escaping, he felt a horrible pain, like hot, serrated razor blades were underneath his skin, causing his flesh to bubble and peel, and burrowing into his muscles.  He cried out in pain, losing all coherent thought as his mind gave way to agony.  It seemed like no matter what he did, nothing made it better.  He tensed his muscles, and then tried to relax them.  His breathing was shallow, but even when he tried to lengthen his breaths, it didn’t help.  And when he tried to ignore his pain, and cast his own spells at the fifth years, his efforts seemed to yield no results.  Instead, the older students would mockingly laugh, and he would experience pain anew.

Callidus did not know how long the fifth years tormented him for.  It felt like hours, but could have been mere minutes.  It seemed like nothing could make the pain better.  But as Callidus tried method after method, he discovered one thing that eased the horrible feelings, even if it was only by a small fraction.  Callidus found that if he could calm his mind, and reach that place of emptiness, then the pain seemed to fade.

Just as abruptly as the pain began, it eventually stopped.  Callidus wondered if it had been his efforts that had stopped the pain, but then he heard the eager boy whinge.

 “Why can’t we torture him for longer?” the boy groused.  “I was having fun.”

 “Yeah?  Well you try and sustain this kind of connection for that long, and see how you like it!” the girl tartly answered.  “I’m tired!”

 “I’d do it if you’d teach me!” the eager boy piped.

The girl snorted.  “You may be one of my best friends, but I wouldn’t trust you with my family secrets.”

 “I’m not going to let you get away with this,” Callidus promised, feeling braver now that the pain was gone.  “What you’ve done might not technically be a hex, but it’s worse.  Far worse.”

The girl gave him a nasty smile.  “Oh?  I don’t think you understand your situation.  Well, of course you don’t!  Why would you?  I bet you don’t even know what mind magic is. You see, this is a dream, and here, I have the power.  Which means that when you wake up in the morning, all will be forgotten.  Mostly all.  I’m sure you’ll feel an unexplained fear whenever you see us.  But fear is a good thing.  We like seeing little traitors like you trembling in your dragon hide boots.”

 “I won’t forget,” Callidus growled.

The fifth years sniggered.  “Whatever you say,” the girl shrugged.  “But don’t worry, even if you forget, we’ll remember.  And we’ll be seeing you again soon.  Real soon.”

And with that, Callidus’s consciousness faded into black.

Chapter Text

As the morning light hit Callidus’s eyes, he felt the cobwebs of sleepiness fade from his mind.  A deeply disturbing and unsettled feeling ensured that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, but Callidus had never been the sort to want to sleep in anyway.  Perhaps he had been having nightmares, but he couldn’t seem to remember them.  He felt almost nauseated, but there was no sense in dwelling on unremembered dreams, and he forced himself out of bed.

He combed his hair, didn’t bother with Grease-B-Gone potion, and dressed himself in a bit of a daze, but by the time Harry and Draco were awake, Callidus was feeling more like himself.  However, when Harry was alert enough to be considered half-way coherent, the first words out of his mouth were: “Did you sleep all right?  You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.  Did you figure out what those fifth years did?”

Thinking of the fifth year students caused an immediate feeling of anxiety that knotted up his guts.  But he couldn't recall anything noteworthy.  Even if he had had a nightmare, shouldn't he have some sort of memory or impression of it?

Callidus's lips twisted downwards.  “Not really.  I woke up feeling off-balanced.” He shrugged. “But if that's the worst those fifth years can do, then that's nothing.”

Harry gave him an uncertain look.  “Who are they?  I'll keep my eye for them.”

Callidus didn't know their names however he was able to give a clear description.

Harry nodded. “I think I know who you're talking about.  There’s that one boy in the group that always gave me chills down my spine - he looks like the sort that likes to dissect animals for fun.”

 “Are you talking about Randle and his lot?” Draco cut in.  “They're purebloods, but not particularly old ones - no one that my family would invite to dinner parties.”

 “You know them?” Callidus asked.

 “Not well,” Draco answered with an indifferent gesture.  “None of them are important enough.”

Callidus hummed.  It wasn't particularly useful information.

 “So about our prank,” Harry changed the topic.  “Let’s come up with a plan for making sure we get the containers back.”

Callidus nodded, grateful to be discussing something else, and soon, he forgot about his feelings of unease.  The day progressed fairly normally, except for the fact that there was a sense of restlessness in the air, knowing that Christmas break would soon be upon them.  Some of the professors, like Flitwick and Sprout, were more lenient, while others, like McGonagall became more strict, drilling theoretical information into the students’ minds in hopes that they wouldn’t forget everything they had learned over the previous months.

After their lessons were over, Harry and Draco had Quidditch practice.  This usually meant that Callidus would head down to the library and study with his Gryffindor friends; however, the thought of doing so suddenly made his skin crawl.  Callidus frowned.  Had the threats of the fifth years really affected him that much?  Perhaps it was just a perfectly rational response of his self-preservation instinct.  To Callidus, the latter made more sense.  It would be foolish to disregard the threat that the fifth years represented, but that didn’t mean that he was actually afraid of them.  It was just common sense.

In fact, it seemed like it would be wisest to avoid even meeting with the three girls until they found a new, safer location.  Thus decided, Callidus jotted down a note informing them of his thoughts, and handed it off to an owl.  Knowing what he did of the girls, they would worry about his absence if he didn’t send a message, and the last thing he needed was to be chased down by Gryffindors in the current conflicted climate.

Satisfied with his decision, Callidus headed down towards his potion lab, eager to continue research on his new project, as well as making up large batches of the friendliness potion to use for the trio’s prank.

It was nearly a week later that Callidus finished up the containers for his vapourized potions.  The friendliness potion had only taken a day and a half, but the containers had involved more work.  He had been so preoccupied with lab work that he didn’t even give a second thought to the fact that he had hadn’t seen his Gryffindor friends all week, aside from the occasional glance in the Great Hall.  

When he told Harry and Draco, the two boys were thrilled.  They had been discussing the intricacies and outcomes of their plan all week, and it was all a matter of implementing it.  The fact that the situation between Slytherins and Gryffindors remained tense only furthered their motivation, though Callidus wondered how much of Harry's fervent interest stemmed from guilt over what had happened with Dove.

The fateful day of the prank arrived.  Outside, the drifting snowfall made most of the students grateful to be in a warm castle, though since some of the rooms were warmer and some were colder, most were dressed warmly with scarves on hand, and knitted jumpers under their robes.  The trio had debated whether or not to pull the prank on a weekend or weekday.  In the end, Harry and Draco decided that a school day prank would be far more amusing since it would disrupt the professors’ lessons.  It made carrying out the prank more challenging, but it was worth the effort.

 “Do you think Peeves can really be trusted with those vapour bombs?” Draco whispered with concern, ignoring Professor Binns who was droning on in a monotone.voice as he lectured them about some goblin war or other.   

 “I hope so,” Harry answered.  “I didn’t tell him what the bombs do.  I just said that if he wants to get everyone worked up, that I knew how he could do it.  He seemed excited about it - as much as a poltergeist could be.”  Harry scrunched up his face.  “Though I really don’t understand poltergeists.  One moment, Peeves will seem calm, and the next, he’s insulting me and laughing at his own stupid jokes.  Anyway, if he gets too difficult, there’s always the skurge charm.”

 “I almost forgot about that charm,” Draco admitted.  “We should use it sometime.  With the way that Peeves acts, he’d deserve no less than a good scare.”

Harry smirked in amusement.  “Anyway, if you’re worried,  I didn’t give him all of the containers.  I saved a few and we can try them out ourselves, later, where we won’t get caught.”

Draco’s expression became calculating, and a slow smile spread across his face.  “What if we got Filch?”

Callidus arched his eyebrows.  “That’s a risk.”

 “Don’t you mean an awesome idea?” Harry excitedly corrected, causing a few of the other students to look in their direction with questioning glances.  All the while, Professor Binns continued his dry lecture, oblivious to any disturbance.

 “Thank you, Harry, it is an awesome idea,” Draco smugly affirmed.  

Callidus sighed.  “I’d hate to imagine what kind of detention that would result in.  But I confess that the idea of seeing a friendly Filch would be a novelty.”

Harry grinned.  “Let’s do it then.  We can figure out who else to prank later.”

Harry and Draco were restless for the rest of Binns’ lesson, but Callidus managed to pull together enough attention to take some notes.  While Callidus cared about History of Magic less than he cared about his other classes, he still wanted to do well.  Spending time with the Gryffindor girls had only spurred that desire; however, as Callidus thought of the Gryffindors, he felt a brief twist of guilt when it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen or spoken to them in a while.  He reminded himself that there would be time for that later.  

The trio had been hoping to hear word of their prank in the morning, especially since Harry had given Peeves the vapour bombs before breakfast.  But it wasn’t until lunch that anyone had an inkling that something unusual was happening.

 “Something is going on with the Ravenclaws,” the trio heard a Hufflepuff telling one of their friends.  “Maybe all that studying finally broke their brains.  Seriously, they’re being really weird!”

The trio looked towards the Ravenclaw table, but the students there appeared to be acting normally.  However, the table did seem emptier than usual.

 “Not just Ravenclaws,” another student added.  “I saw some Slytherins acting really strange in the hallways.  I mean, completely not-Slytherin-ish.  Well, you know what I mean.”

Not wanting to awkwardly stand by the Hufflepuff table, the trio made their way to their own table.  If anyone had news, it would be the Slytherins.  After all, they were some of the best gossips, even if they kept the information confined within their own House.  

 “Would you three happen to know anything about all the crazy stuff that’s apparently going on in the castle?” Parkinson asked as the trio sat down.  “Everyone’s talking about it.”

Harry grinned and attempted to look as innocent as possible.  “What makes you think that we have anything to do with it, Pansy?”

 “You’re not fooling anyone,” Pansy teasingly scolded.  “So am I to assume that you three have something to do with the fact that all the suits of armour have come to life, and a whole bunch of people are acting disturbingly - hm - affectionate?”

 “Affectionate is putting it lightly,” Zabini drawled.

 “Suits of armour?  Coming to life?  What are you talking about?” Draco demanded.

Pansy delicately raised her eyebrows.  “Draco, darling, don’t tell me that you don’t know.”

The trio exchanged glances.  “What’s going on, Pansy?” Harry asked, insistently.  “Just tell us!”

A cat-like grin spread across Parkinson’s face.  “Oh, I do so love being the first to share a story.  Though -” she paused, “I had been so sure that you three would have known.” She shrugged.  “I suppose I was wrong.”

 “Pansy,” Draco growled.

 “No need to be so impatient!” Parkinson admonished.  “I’m getting to it.  I’m just really surprised that you don’t know.  As I was saying, the suits of armour have apparently come to life.  From what I’ve heard, every single one of them.”  An amused smile caused her eyes to crinkle up.  “People are saying that they’re causing quite a ruckus with the professors.  They’re not causing any harm.  Just doing things like dancing around, bowing at people, and walking into classrooms, interrupting lessons.  Or - apparently, hugging people?  I have the impression that the pranksters intended something light-hearted - you know, considering how things have been.”

The trio shared yet another look.  What were the odds that someone else had decided to pull a prank on the exact same day as they had?  They looked over at the Gryffindor table, and it appeared that many of the Gryffindors were giving the Weasley twins questioning looks.  However, the Weasley twins managed to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary.  In fact, there was almost something unnatural about their ‘natural’ act.

 “As for the other thing,” Parkinson continued.  “It seems to have disproportionately affected the older Ravenclaws, though I know some Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors and Slytherins have been affected as well.”

 “What happened?” Harry wondered.

 “From what I heard, it’s affected everyone in this morning’s upper level Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes classes,” Parkinson informed them.  “And a few mid-level classes as well.  Haven’t you three noticed how empty the Head Table is today?  Oh, and the library.”

 “The library?”  Harry echoed.

 “Indeed,” Zabini replied.  “Ah, if only Madam Pince was lucid enough to understand what is happening to her beloved books.”

Not wanting to act suspicious by immediately dashing off, the trio quickly ate their lunches, while Parkinson continued to prattle and speculate.  When they were done scarfing down their food (with the exception of Draco who ate as neatly as ever), they left the Great Hall.  They were eager to see the results of their prank, but they also had to collect the vapour bomb containers.  Furthermore, they wanted to see the moving suits of armour in action.

As they turned the corner that would take them towards the library, they were immediately accosted by a suit of armour, who gave them a low and stately bow, before skipping away like a young schoolgirl, arms swinging gaily.  The trio’s eyes widened and then they snorted with amused laughter.

 “Merlin!” Harry shook his head, still chuckling quietly.  “I can’t believe it.  It must have been the Weasleys.  Who else could it have been?”

Callidus tried to bite back his smile.  “They couldn’t have known that we were planning our prank for the same day, could they?  It seems like too much of a coincidence.  An amusing one though.”

Harry shrugged, his eyes bright.  “Who cares?  I think this makes it more fun.”  He grinned widely.  “Come on.  Let’s see what else is happening.”

As they continued forward, they came across an older Ravenclaw, recognizable due to the blue and bronze scarf wrapped around her neck.  The Ravenclaw girl was standing in an alcove, hugging a marble statue of a rather ugly manticore (a beast with a human-like head, a lion’s body and scorpion’s tale.)  Every so often, she would rub her cheek against the manticore’s face.  The trio didn’t know whether to laugh or be disturbed.

 “You three!” the girl called out, beaming widely as if the sight of the trio was like a moment of great happiness.  “Merlin, I’m so glad you’re here!  You have to feel this!”

She reached out and grabbed Callidus’s hand, since he was the closest to her, and used his hand to stroke the marble statue.  “Isn’t it just so smooth ?” the Ravenclaw asked, sounding deeply contented.  “Merlin, and your hand!  Your hand is so soft!”  She stared down at Callidus’s hand and proceeded to pet it.

Callidus snatched his hand away, while Harry and Draco tried and failed to muffle their laughs.  When Callidus gave his friends a dark glare, it only fueled their laughter until they were doubled over, and barely able to breath.

 “Let’s get out of here,” Callidus growled, letting Harry and Draco trail behind him.

 “Where are you going?” the Ravenclaw wailed.  “Wait! I love you!  I love everyone!  Oh wow, this statue is so smooth .”

They turned yet another corner until they were out of sight of the strange Ravenclaw girl, and Callidus impatiently waited until Harry and Draco had calmed their guffaws.

 “Is -” Harry wiped away a tear of laughter, “is she supposed to act like that?  That was nothing like Flint.  It was hilarious though.”

Callidus frowned.  Perhaps that particular Ravenclaw was just unusually sensitive to the friendliness potion.  He had tested the potion extensively on rats, and had also tested it on Flint.  But perhaps he should have done more human trials.

 “I don’t know,” Callidus admitted.  “I - let’s just see how it affected everyone else.  The potion won’t harm them, but I’m surprised it could be that strong.”

Harry and Draco nodded in agreement.  They made their way to the library, and the sight that greeted them was nothing like what they had expected.  To begin with, everyone looked blindingly happy.  There were students lying spread-eagled on the floor, expressions filled with awe.  There were students sprawled on tables caressing the smooth wooden texture, much like the Ravenclaw in the hall had caressed the statue.  There was a ring of students, arms around each other's shoulders, swaying as they sang an incoherent melody.  And was that Madam Pince, in the middle of a massive group hug?

 “Merlin,” Harry exhaled.  “What happened?”  He gave Callidus a confused look.  “Was it supposed to be like this?”

Callidus’s expression was pinched.  “I - it appears the dose was far too strong.”  He searched his mind for answers.  “It might have been the case that Flint just happened to have an unusually high tolerance for the potion.”  He shook his head.  “Merlin.  We have to find those containers.”

As they entered the unusually noisy and chaotic library, they caught snatches of what some of the students were saying.

 “You’re the best!”

 “No, you’re the best!”

 “Haha, you’re both the best!”

They edged around a student who was somehow lying on a pile of books.  It was fortunate that Madam Pince was just as affected by the friendliness potion as the students.  Otherwise, she would have been traumatized by what was happening to her books.

 “You’re all so wonderful,” the student happily sighed, seemingly to his books.  “I just want to marry you.  I want to marry all of you!  And we’re going to have a big, happy book family.”

Callidus knew he should have been treating this as more of a scientific observation, but it was hard to hold back his laughter.  What in the world could have caused the friendliness potion to make people feel affection for inanimate objects?  He mentally catalogued the information, reminding himself to write it down later.

They managed to find several empty containers of the vapourized bombs, and quickly pocketed them.  

 “Do you think they’re like that because Peeves threw so many of the vapour bombs in here?” Harry mused, his eyes sparkling with humour.

Callidus shrugged.  “It’s possible.”

The trio skirted around a mass of students who attempted to pull them into a group hug.  

Draco snickered.  “I hope they remember this tomorrow.”

 “They should,” Callidus replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  “It will be interesting to witness.”

 “Y’know, if the potion is this this strong, maybe it’s a good thing that it mostly affected Ravenclaws.  Could you imagine how furious Slytherins would be if this was them?”  Harry considered.

Draco winced.  “Merlin.  Then the feud would never end.  And no one would ever dare speak of this again.”

 “You have to admit, it would be funny though,” Harry pointed out, before grinning.  “Especially if it hit the stuffy and traditional ones.”

The trio passed by a blonde first year, sitting at one of the library tables, with her head tilted to one side and a dreamy smile on her face.

 “The nargles have all disappeared,” the girl murmured, airily, sounding pleased.  “I rather like this.”

The trio gave her an odd look.  What in the world were nargles?  The blonde girl turned her head to look towards them.  But instead of trying to invade their boundaries with acts of affection, she gave them a faraway smile.  

 “Don’t worry,” the girl reassured them.  “Tomorrow, they’ll be too busy studying why this happened to be mad about it.  Oh.  And you forgot this.”  She reached into her robe pockets and then handed them an empty vapour bomb container.

The three boys paled.  “What makes you think this is ours?” Draco asked, sounding a bit too defensive.

The blonde smiled warmly.  “You needn’t worry.  I won’t tell anyone.  I think it’s lovely that you would do something to try and make people feel better.  Even if it went a bit sideways.”

Harry laughed sheepishly.  “Yeah.  We weren’t really expecting this.”

 “Harry!” Draco hissed.  “We have no reason to trust her!”

Harry shrugged.  “Yeah, but we need the container anyway.  Thank you, er -”