It's been about three years since I updated this story? Well, I finally found my notes to this story - a chapter by chapter summary wow - so I decided it wouldn't hurt to upload the one chapter that has been laying around my folders forever. This one was about three quarters finished when I found it today, so I decided why not finish it and post it :)

Chapter 4

Winter had been pushed aside by the fresh gust of wind that was spring and within weeks, Hogwarts itself seemed cheerier. Harry's bouts of blue-ness were less common now that the cold had gone away. However, all of these changes seemed to have little to no effect on the Slytherin Dungeons. They remained as humid and dark as they had always been.

Entering these Dungeons after dark, wasn't exactly safe for a Gryffindor. But a lot had happened since the beginning of the school year and once it had come out that Harry and Malfoy had reached some sort of truce, most of the Slytherins had begun to respect him a little bit more — at least, they weren't insulting him at every turn.

It was past eight when Harry knocked on Slughorn's door. It took a moment, but the man eventually cracked it open. He was already dressed in an evening gown under which Harry could see his sleeping garments.

"Harry! M'boy!" Slughorn exclaimed. He grinned at Harry before glancing down at his watch confusedly. "A bit late, no?"

Harry smiled politely. "I apologise, professor, for coming by so late, but this is a matter of the utmost importance… I'm afraid it's about the war effort."

"The war effort?" Slughorn actually looked lost and he gulped loudly. Harry smiled a polite smile, making sure that his cheeks pushed upwards so that the skin around his eyes wrinkled; that would make it seem more real.

"Very well, come in." Slughorn looked left and right before shutting the door, evidently looking for nosy Slytherin students who would rat him out to their parents.

"Thank you, professor," Harry began. He folded his hands behind his back as Draco had taught him. Apparently that would make him seem more earnest and important. The more one showed one's hands the more other people thought one was lying.

"I was hoping, professor, that you would help me with an issue."

"An issue," Slughorn echoed back. It was becoming evident that he was beginning to realise where this was going. "Did Dumbledore put you up to this?"

"The Headmaster has little to do with it," Harry replied slickly, knowing that there was some back blood between the two professors. No, he would have to remind them of the common elements between him and the professor.

"I am asking you as your student and as a son of Lily Evans for a favour, professor. In his youth, Voldemort or Tom Riddle as he was then known came to you with a question about Horcurxes. It is my and the Headmaster's belief that he has created more than one. Your memory could… confirm our suspicions." Slughorn had already reeled back at the mention of the word, but Harry pressed on.

"Professor. This is a turning point in a war that hasn't even properly begun yet. If we get that confirmation, we will know, and we will be able to get rid of the Horcruxes before we deliver the final blow."

"…more than one?" Slughorn whispered, evidently having only gotten that bit out of Harry's monologue.

"I'm afraid so… and your memory would confirm it, professor."

Slughorn straightened himself, evidently still looked shaken. He began nodding rapidly and repeatedly, in an almost hysterical fashion.

"For your mother, you say," Slughorn finally ground out.

Harry smiled kindly, "I would be very much obliged."

Getting the memory from Slughorn had been oddly very easy. This of course, implied that either, Harry's powers of persuasion and argumentation had improved, or Dumbledore had made it that easy on purpose. Just a week after he had take him with getting the memory, Harry was now leaving the potions classroom, with a small flask filled with swirling, silver liquid.

Harry was a bit tempted to open the flask and view the memory alone, but the fact that he had no pensieve or knew any other way to view the memory stopped him. He also had no doubt, that even if he found a pensieve in the Room of Requirement, Dumbledore would probably still know through magical means whether the memory had already been viewed or not.

Hermione and Ron had already sped ahead to the common room after dinner, and Harry found himself enjoying the peace and quiet. He liked them, he honestly did. But they didn't know the real him and holding up the Gryffindor!Harry charade sometimes got a little… exhausting.

Harry stopped momentarily at the mouth of the dungeons, which lead to the Entrance Hall. Students were milling about, some returning to their dorms for the night, some charging towards the Great Hall for dinner, which was served until half nine. Everyone seemed to be occupied with their thoughts or conversations.

Yet… Harry felt watched. He gazed around himself, wondering what it was. The small alcoves in the walls seemed empty and although the shadows were dark, no person would have been able to hide themselves in them.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught a rapid movement. Instantly, his eyes shifted in that direction and he raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw an empty portrait hanging near the first alcove. It was empty and the person who had just vacated the portrait had left in such a rush, that they had knocked over a hand mirror, in the painting.

So someone was spying on him. Via the portraits? It seemed a bit improbable. Over half of the portraits had gone insane (such as Sir Cadogan), and the few that weren't insane were loyal to the Headmaster.

Oh.

The Headmaster.

Dumbledore was spying on him.

Pursing his lips, Harry forced his body to turn away from the portrait. He didn't want Dumbledore to know he knew the old man was spying on him. This way, he would be able to say very Gryffindor like things in the hallway, and continue the charade for a little bit longer. Nevertheless, he had changed much since his acquaintance with Malfoy had begun, and some reflexes were just… too hard to hide.

He continued walking towards the open doors of the Great Hall, as though nothing had happened but was very suddenly stopped by an owl, with a letter jammed in its beak, swooping down from the ceiling. A blue sash around it's neck signified that it was an owl from the Ministry.

Harry pried the letter from it's beak and dropped a few knuts in the owl's pouch tied around it's claws. Stuffing it in his cloak pocket, Harry decided that he'd read it later on, when he was in the privacy of his bed.

.

He now felt they eyes on him even more acutely than usual. Perhaps because now he had the knowledge that someone was literally stalking him. Many someones actually, all of them portraits. The Great Hall was filled with them; large pieces above every fireplace.

"Seamus is beat Zabini's record at Exploding Snap, again," Ron was saying to Hermione.

"Dear God, Ron, don't speak with your mouth full!" Ron purposefully said 'bla bla bla' while chewing louder and messier than usual. Harry rolled his eyes at their antics as they belonged to ten year olds not sixteen.

"Seamus has always been good at exploding things," Harry said with a small grin, poking his sausage carefully. Hermione shot him a thankful look for acting somewhat more mature.

"Did I hear exploding and Seamus in one sentence? What'd he do now?" Ginny butted into the conversation, fluttering her eyes at Harry as she did so. She had been doing this on an increased basis and while Harry had once had a small crush on her, he was much too busy currently to concern himself with such trivial feelings.

"Apparently he beat some record?" Harry replied. Ginny's eyes widened.

"No way, the Zabini record?"

"Uhm, seems like it," Harry placed his cutlery on the plate so that the knife and fork were pointing in the same direction, as Draco had taught him. Speaking of Draco…

He glanced up at Hermione but spotted someone behind her, heading towards the doors. Draco's blond head jerked in a way that said 'get over here'. Harry coughed uncomfortably before bowing his head briefly at the girls sitting near him and thanked all of them for their company.

"I'm sorry, I have something to deal with before lessons begin," he murmured to them. Ron and Ginny who had resumed an argument from last night, didn't even pay attention, but Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly as her gaze shifted from Harry's to the person he was looking at; Draco.

"Good morning," Harry said politely as he approached the Malfoy heir. He made a small indiscreet gesture that was used in pureblood circles to acknowledge someone as the heir to a specific House.

"You're learning," Malfoy said with a smirk, because Malfoys absolutely didn't smile. He replicated the gesture, with a little variation. "You have received an answer?"

"Last night," Harry said with a short nod. "Bones confirms that it's possible for me to get emancipated, but recommended Lord Witherspoon as a lawyer. She mentioned something about professionals being better at their jobs than a sixth year Hogwarts student."

Malfoy actually honest-to-God laughed. It wasn't particularly warm, but it was also much looser than Harry was used to seeing him act.

"I've already contacted Lord Witherspoon and he wrote back this morning that he would come to Hogsmeade this weekend to meet me. Would you like to join me?"

Draco actually looked pretty shocked at hearing this preposition and although Harry didn't particularly trust him, he did trust him more than he had a year ago. He also knew much, much more about these sort of things than Harry. He wanted a second opinion there during his meeting.

"I shall gladly come, as a family member."

"Cousin, thrice removed?" Harry guessed with a short laugh. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Harry?" said a dreamy voice beside them. Harry spotted Luny standing at his elbow, much closer than was socially acceptable.

"Oh hi Luna!" And his Gryffindor mask was back on. Draco had instantly disappeared the moment Luna had appeared. The Ravenclaw girl smiled dreamily at him… although Harry wasn't exactly certain she was looking at him, rather more around his head. Maybe looking for Wackspurts.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you this," she said, handing him a little scroll. Harry sighed and cracked open the seal. Dumbledore wanted to meet him; now.

"Thanks Luna. Sorry, I kinda have to go—" He brushed past her, and began making his way to Dumbledore's office. He encountered a few students on his way who had made a late start to the day and had only just now began making their way to breakfast.

Harry gave the Gargoyle the password and practically skipped up the staircase. The doors to the office were open and Dumbledore was already sitting at his desk, despite the fact that Harry had just seen him still sitting at the Head Table in the Great Hall.

"Good morning, Harry. I trust you slept well?" Harry knew what he was asking and he nodded once, although he felt like it wasn't really Dumbledore's business.

"Voldemort has been shielding against me, sir. I haven't had an episode in weeks. It seems he has finally erased that our mind connection is a two-way street," Harry said. Dumbledore gave him an odd look.

"This, of course, does not mean you must slacken your studies of occlumency," the Headmaster remarked, looking over his glasses sternly. Harry had been actually training his mind more frequently in the last few months, ever since Draco had recommended it, actually.

"Of course, professor."

"Professor Slughorn spoke to me today, he assures me that he will retire again after this year is up. You gave him quite a shock, I understand." Again Dumbledore was giving him that judgemental-over-glasses-look.

"I got the memory, sir. Last night." Harry reached into his backpack and pulled out the memory. He placed it somewhat loudly on the desk.

"Do you make a habit out of carrying memories of this sensitive nature around in your bag?" Dumbledore leaned forwards and steepled his fingers; one hand was entirely black. Harry pursed his lips.

"I assumed the safest place was with me, not laying around in my dorm," Harry replied, perhaps somewhat to harshly. Dumbledore gave no outward sign of registering this, but his gaze did sharpen somewhat.

"Sir, I must confess," Harry finally said after their pause dragged on for a long time. "I don't understand how useful these 'lessons' are. I agree with the notion of 'know thy enemy', but these lessons are frankly wasting my time. I could be studying or preparing duelling techniques… with all respect, sir."

"You could be doing something else…? Like taking etiquette lessons from Draco?" Dumbledore asked in a low voice. It wasn't a question really, it was more of a demand for information.

Harry stared at him coldly, mask completely stripped by now. This was the confirmation; now he know with full certainty that Dumbledore had been spying on him all this time. Throughout his entire Hogwarts career. Thank Merlin there were no portraits in the dormitories.

"This castle has ears," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry glanced up at the portraits surrounding him; they were all pretending to be asleep. Harry stood up, shouldering his backpack. He felt rage well up within him, threatening to explode. Just half a year ago, he had admired this old man and he had shown his true colours today.

"I, like Slughorn, shall not come back for next year," Harry said, smiling bitterly. "When a war begins, and it will, I will not be on your side, professor."

"On Voldemort's?" Dumbledore asked slightly brokenly. He looked sorrowful.

"On mine, professor. On. Mine."