A/N Hey, so it's been a while since I've updated, real life, yada, yada... I also did quite a bit of rewrites, so if you're planning on just picking up where you left off, you probably shouldn't. I suppose this is one of those few moments where it's lucky the story isn't too long yet. Feedback is great, I know some parts are stronger than others, I just got tired of going over them again and again so let me know what works and what doesn't.

Chapter 7

It was only the beginning of the second full week of classes, yet Harry was almost regretting his decision to drop Defense instead of Ancient Runes. His notes were scattered in front of him taking up half the table, while half a dozen library books, opened seemingly at random, covered the rest. Groaning in frustration he leaned forward and began gently banging his head against the table. While he sat there debating whether or not blowing up his homework would be considered an overreaction, he heard two sets of footsteps approach.

"He looks busy," the first voice said timidly, stopping a short distance away from the table he was sitting at, "maybe we should come back later."

"Oh no you don't," the second replied, "I've already had to listen to you complain after chickening out twice, I'm not doing it a third time."

Ignoring their bickering, Harry briefly considered pulling a disappearing act, before remembering the promise he had made to Moony and Padfoot that he would try to spend time with some of his classmates. Looking up, he consoled himself that at least both were in his year, as he found it rather disconcerting to be hit on by the second, third and fourth year girls that made up most of his 'fan club'. Leaning back, he nervously ran a hand through his hair as he watched the two girls squabble, one subtly trying to flee while the other stubbornly stood in her way. Both of their heads swiveled towards him as he cleared his throat, the first girl's face flushing to match her fiery red hair, while the second grinned at her friend's embarrassment.

"Abbott, Bones," he said, inclining his head to each of them in greeting as he channelled his best Sirius impression, "what can I do for a pair of such lovely ladies?"

It didn't have quite the effect he intended as Hannah looked at him incredulously for a moment before breaking into giggles, while Susan just stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Noticing her friend frozen in place, Hannah gently reached forward to give her a little shove, causing the redhead to stumble forward. Catching herself, Susan stopped just long enough to glare at her friend, before turning her attention back towards him, "Hi Harry," she said before pausing, uncertain what to say next, "Er... How are you?"

Withholding a wince at his failed attempt at being smooth, Harry decided to drop it and go with a more Remus-like, polite but vague approach as he considered her question. He had a student body that seemed to be trying to make up for five years of ignoring him in the span of a week, a swarm of female stalkers – many of whom were disturbingly young – trying to flirt with him any time he showed his face in public, a Head of House that had gone from forgetting he existed to watching him like a hawk and a headmaster that thought he had the authority to go poking around in his thoughts, so he was obviously under quite a bit of stress at the moment. Still he couldn't exactly begin ranting at two random classmates, so he did his best to smile as he replied, "Fantastic, and you?"

"I'm good," she replied, her eyes fixed firmly on her feet as an awkward silence filled the room. Rather than try to help her out however, Harry remained silent, hoping that she would either work up the courage to speak with him normally or make her feel so uncomfortable that she would avoid him out of embarrassment. It was going to be hard enough trying to socialize with other teenagers without having to live with the sort of hero-worship that Longbottom occasionally dealt with.

"So..." she said awkwardly, drawing out word as she searched for something to say, "I wanted to thank you."

Despite having a pretty good idea of what she was talking about, Harry donned a confused expression. "What for?" he asked, knowing that whatever he told her was likely to make its way back to her aunt. While Madam Bones was adamantly opposed to Voldemort, she was still a politician and he had learned not to trust any of them further then he could throw them.

She looked at him in surprise,"F–for saving me and my Aunt from You-Know-Who," she replied uncertainly, likely having expected him to jump at the chance to take credit for saving her.

Despite the slight urge to do just that, Harry shook his head. Unlike when he had hinted to Granger that he had been a part of the Bones' rescue, he didn't have any leverage over Madam Bones if she decided to turn him in for bypassing the Trace and he had no intention of having his wand snapped or being blackmailed into doing the DMLE's dirty work if she happened to be less honorable than her reputation. While it might be nice to have the Head of the DMLE owe him one, it wasn't worth the risk. "I'm flattered that you think I'm some sort of vigilante badass, but I've already had one confrontation with Voldemort," he replied, suppressing the surge of annoyance he felt as both girls flinched at the name, "I have no intention of running into another."

Susan looked at him, taken aback by his denial, "But who else could it have been?" she asked, "Auntie said that three people attacked the Death Eaters guarding the ward anchor and it wasn't the Ministry or Dumbledore's people."

"I don't know, but it wasn't us," he lied, wondering how Bones could know the Order wasn't involved and whether or not she had a spy. Unable to think of any likely candidates off the top of his head, he resolved to mention it to Moony and Padfoot in case they could use it to their advantage. Spies were generally a good source of intelligence as they had access to information from at least two sides and it was generally easier to use knowledge of their double dealings to get them to talk.

"Are you sure?" she asked, as if he could possibly forget being in a life or death fight less than a month ago, "Aunt Amelia was certain that it was you, Black and Lupin."

Harry had to struggle to contain a frown, careful not to give away his thoughts. They had been careful to Oblivate all the Death Eaters they captured and hide any evidence that they were the ones behind interrupting a number of Voldemort's attacks, yet it seemed like most people assumed that they were responsible for the failed attacks regardless. "I think I would remember getting into another fight with Death Eaters," he replied dryly, his mind going back to that night. He remembered the green glow of the Killing Curse passing across his vision as it missed him by inches, the screams of a Death Eater as Moony exploded the ground beneath his feet and the tension as they raced to destroy the ward anchor before it was too late.

"Oh," she replied sounding disappointed, as if she had been hoping that he really was responsible for saving her, "well... I guess I'll leave you alone then..."

Harry watched her go, wondering for a moment whether he had made the right choice before giving his head a shake. They had decided as a group that they would pretend that they had nothing to do with the war, he couldn't just let it slip that they really were behind the Bones' rescue even if everyone seemed to suspect it anyways. He was about to return to his homework when he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"Abbott," he said looking up at the blonde girl that was still nearby, "what can I do for you?"

She took a couple steps towards him, suddenly unsure of herself, "I just wanted to thank you for saving Susan. She's my best friend, if something had happened to her I..." she trailed off, even the thought of losing her best friend enough to upset her.

"Look," he replied, stopping her before she could continue, "like I told Bones, while I'm flattered–"

"No Harry," she said, cutting him off, "whether or not you're willing to admit it, I know you, Black and Lupin are the ones responsible for my best friend still being alive. If you need anything, anything at all, all you have to do is ask."

Harry considered denying their involvement again, but judging by her expression the Hufflepuff wasn't likely to buy it. Instead he put on his best lopsided grin, "Anything?" he asked suggestively, hoping he could distract her enough to let the matter drop.

Rather than be outraged or embarrassed however she simply smiled at him, slowly leaning towards him across the table. Harry's focus, which up until this point had been mostly on his homework, suddenly had a new target. He couldn't help but notice the open buttons of her uniform, which along with the way she leaned forward revealed just the barest hint of black lace, "Like I said Harry, if you need anything..."

Harry gulped heavily, his tongue feeling like it was tied in knots. Apparently satisfied, the Hufflepuff spun on her heel before making her way towards the exit. Still tongue tied, Harry watched her go, his eyes glued to her hips as they swayed back and forth until she came to a stop, looking at him over her shoulder. Caught red handed Harry felt his face heat up, but rather than growing angry, she just smiled before continuing on her way, adding an extra swing to her step.

Realizing that he had been holding his breath, Harry exhaled heavily, grinning as he watched her disappear. Maybe spending a little bit of time with people his own age wouldn't be so bad after all.

OoOoO

"What did you do to it Potter?"

Then again maybe it would, he thought to himself as he noticed the girl across from him glaring down at him with almost enough intensity to set him ablaze. Not that he could really blame her, giving her wand to a transfigured dog and then avoiding her for a week and a half would probably piss off most women. In fact he was probably lucky that she hadn't already started hexing him. He'd just been so excited at the prospect of finally getting to speak to even an echo of his father that he had gotten a little carried away and let Padfoot, or at least the fifteen year old echo of him from the Map, talk him into one of his usual half baked schemes.

"Hello Granger, I'm fantastic," he replied, ignoring her question entirely. She already looked like she wanted to hex him in the bits, it wasn't like she could get that much angrier at him. "How are you?"

Apparently she could, "Don't try to be cute Potter, what did you do to it?" she demanded in the sternest voice she could manage, looking down at him like she expected him to spill all of his secrets like some scared little first year. For that matter maybe she did, after all the Harry she had known last year would've cracked at the barest hint of pressure. It seemed like she was about to be in for a surprise as now that Moony and Padfoot were cleared, he no longer had to pretend to be the same frightened little boy he had been when he had first arrived at Hogwarts.

"Thanks Granger, you're cute too," he replied, winking suggestively at her. It was all he could do to restrain his laughter as her face darkened further. It was almost adorable the way she glowered down at him, as if expecting him to be intimidated. "But that's between me, Moony, Padfoot and Prongs. Besides, it still works fine, I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"For everyone but you!" she exclaimed loudly, drawing the eyes of a number of nearby students. "How did you –" she caught herself, realizing how loud she was talking and lowered her voice to a hiss, "How did you know how to take yourself off the map?"

'Because it belongs to me,' he thought to himself, thankful that she had missed his omission. Rather than admit that he was the map's real owner however, he decided to provoke her a little further. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he asked, his smug grin serving to irritate her further.

"Yes I would!" she replied angrily, "I've been trying for almost three years to figure out how it works and I haven't made any progress at all. I was gone for twenty minutes, there's no way you could have figured it out that fast."

"Maybe you just aren't as clever as you like to believe," he taunted, hiding a grin as her glare intensified yet another notch, her knuckles white as they tightened around her wand. "I'll tell you what," he said, deciding that despite how satisfying it was to wind her up, it might be prudent to calm her down before she began trying to curse him in the middle of the Great Hall, "if you figure out how I did it, maybe I'll help you fix it."

She stared at him suspiciously for a moment, the eruption of Mount Granger temporarily delayed, "Why would you do that?" she asked as she tried to figure out what angle he might be playing.

'Because I'd rather not get into a fight with one of the DA's leaders when there are more than a dozen other members nearby,' he thought to himself. He shrugged, "You're less annoying than the rest of my stalkers," he said, hiding his grin as he took in the outraged look on her face, "I figure if I have to let someone bother me it may as well be you."

"I am not stalking you," she replied vehemently.

Harry snorted in amusement, "You've spent the last week trying to corner me after class, you've been waking up early and staying up late trying to catch me in the common room and you're mad that you can no longer keep track of me at all times. What would you call it?"

The brunette's mouth gaped for a moment, "How do you – I don't –" she began, before shaking her head and deciding to ignore his question, "I need to talk to you."

Harry leaned back, trying to look relaxed, "I'm right here, talk away."

"Not here, somewhere private," she replied, trying to contain the annoyance in her voice.

"If you wanted to meet in private Granger, all you had to do was ask," he replied, unable to hide his grin at the look of outrage on her face.

"Not like that you prat!" she hissed, her face flushing crimson. For a moment he thought she was going to storm off, but after looking around for a moment she sat down instead. "We need to talk about the Order," she whispered, leaning across the table.

"Yeah, I think we do," he replied. "We need to talk about how just about everyone even loosely associated with the bloody Order has tried to badger, bribe, bully or berate me into telling them where to find Remus and Sirius. I can't even drop off my bag in my dorm without Longbottom acting like we're long lost mates and I'm getting sick of it. Honestly Granger, just because we pulled your bacon out of the fire once doesn't mean we're obligated to do it from now on."

Hermione looked at him taken aback for a moment before responding, "I know you don't have to, but you can't expect to beat him alone."

Every time an Order member cornered him it was always the same. You can't possibly hope to beat You-Know-Who on your own, why not join us? As if an organization too terrified to say the bastards name out loud had any hope of standing up to him.

Besides, just because they couldn't fight Voldemort and all his Death Eaters by themselves, didn't mean they couldn't kill the bastard. They just had to pick away at his forces and wait for the Order and the Ministry to divide his attention. As powerful as Voldemort was, a curse in the back would put him back where he belonged, for good this time.

"We'll be fine."

Judging by the look on her face Granger obviously disagreed, but he was distracted from her lecture as his pocket began to vibrate. As he began pushing his plate away, the small bundle of emotions at the back of his head sprang into clarity and began heading in his direction. Apparently Moony and Padfoot had found a target and were in a hurry to make the grab. Granger's rant ended abruptly as he stood, catching her off guard, but she grabbed his arm as he went to walk past her.

"Harry, please. You really can't beat him..." she looked around uncertainly for a moment before continuing in a whisper, "there's a prophecy."

Harry shook his head derisively. He knew for a fact that Granger thought Divination was a hoax and that Trelawney was a fraud and yet here she was blindly accepting it as fact because Dumbledore believed it. "Not all prophecies are true Granger," he snarled, ripping his arm from her grasp, "and even if it is, Longbottom isn't the only one 'born as the seventh month dies.'"