Harry ordered his brothers not to follow him to Philip's classroom when they separated in the halls. He didn't like it at all that Philip took it upon himself to inform Midas of what had happened.

He was yet to have his Ancient Runes class but he already knew where Philip's classroom was. It was also around the dungeons, and quite secluded. Prior to Philip choosing the classroom, Harry supposed that it was just an empty room. He'd never ventured there and he'd never seen students or even teachers go to that part of the dungeons. He had to admit that the area looked really creepy.

Upon reaching the classroom, the door opened even without him knocking so he entered. The classroom was devoid of students though some scattered pieces of paper were present. He walked inside the room slowly, the atmosphere was giving him the shivers. It was cold even for dungeons standard. The room was annoyingly covered with vases of different designs. He was sure that one wrong move will shatter those vases, unless Philip placed a protective charm on it, of course. But just so, it reminded him of one story, about the woman whose soul had gotten trapped in a vase.

"What do you want, Harold?" Harry turned around and saw Philip standing by a corner. The man looked like he was expecting him.

"Did you tell him what happened?" he asked with almost a demanding tone.

"Might have," Philip answered airily, walking towards him.

"Did you or did you not tell him?" he asked, voice higher and more annoyed. Philip looked at him pointedly for a moment but didn't comment.

"I might have mentioned it."

"Uncle Philip," he exclaimed, incensed and at his wits end at Philip's refusal to answer him properly. At Philip's look at him, Harry immediately regretted raising his voice. Philip had been waiting for him to do so.

"I told you the first one to lose his temper loses," said Philip indifferently. "Not always literally but you get the point."

"I was being extremely even-tempered," he answered with gritted teeth. "He kept on egging me, but I ignored him. And then he had to just disrespect the deceased."

"Your schoolmate has no sense of respect, that much is clear." Philip shooed him to a nearby chair. "I don't know why you people get angry over others insulting the dead…I mean, they're dead." Harry's mouth flew open at Philip's statement. He knew the man possessed no apparent emotions whatsoever but that was just being plain thoughtless.

"You don't know?" he asked incredulously. "How on Earth would you react if people insult your dead grandparents?"

"Ignore them?" Philip answered with a somewhat confused look. "I find it very easy to do even when they've just died. Like I said, they're dead –so yeah, pointless."

"And people think I'm inconsiderate!" he exclaimed.

"It's not about being considerate or not. Insults are just insults, made to hurt people. The thing is, it's not the one they're insulting who gets hurt but the ones protecting their memory. I frankly don't know why you bother, it's not as if your mother has a bad name in your society."

"I don't even understand a word of what you've just said." Harry deadpanned. What Philip said really didn't make any sense to him, only that it made Philip seem to him as someone who wouldn't even care if a loved one was being slandered or insulted.

"And no, I really wouldn't care," Philip suddenly said with a smirk. The man had just read his mind. Though, it was odd that he didn't feel it. He wasn't an occlumens but he knew when someone was trying to get into his mind.

"Did you just use legilimency on me?" he asked in outrage as the same anger he felt at Macnair was beginning to resurface.

"I didn't," Philip answered quickly. "Please, I'm smarter than that. For Christ's sake, stop getting goaded, Harold. Control your temper."

"I was controlling my temper!" One of the vases exploded as he yelled.

"Sure you are." Philip still appeared to be nonchalant, waving a hand before the vase fixed itself. He then handed Harry a piece of sweet. Harry was reluctant to take it, knowing that it was very likely the man had spiked it with some potion.

"They're not spiked." Harry instantly narrowed his eyes at Philip. Either he was being very transparent about his emotions or Philip really was just using mind magic on him. He didn't like either.

"Yes or no?" When Harry shook his head, Philip withdrew his hand and ate the sweet for himself.

"Look, I haven't told Midas," Philip said, sounding more serious. "But I am planning to."

"Uncle Philip, please don't," Harry said pathetically. He was desperate for Midas not to know about it. His brothers clearly wouldn't tell it.

"Your dad will find out about it anyway. There were many students around when you went Darth Vader on Mr. Macnair. And around the time you and your brothers were in Professor Dumbledore's office, students sent home owls." Harry's eyes widened alarmingly. What he did was going to get out.

"An owl genocide is not the best idea," Philip said drily.

"But…but everyone's going to know."

"Exactly," said Philip before compromising. "I won't tell it to Midas but you should. You have a week to tell him before I do." Philip curtly told him to leave afterwards. And he did so with reluctance. He wanted to argue but he knew it was the best deal he would get from the man. He knew that Philip would really tell Midas within a week should he not do so himself.

On one hand, he didn't want to tell Midas himself. He didn't want Midas to know about it. Ever. But even if he didn't want it so much, his guardian was bound to find out about it one way or another. And the end result would always be Midas confronting him about it.

"Harry!" Harry was met by an immediate hug as soon as he had entered his quarters. He had left Philip's quarters not too long after Philip agreed not to tell Midas for a week. He was dumbstruck for a moment. He thought people would stay away from him as humanly possible. The other students he had come across with on his way to the dungeons were very avoidant of him.

Gulping, he spoke. "You can let go of me now." Daphne withdrew herself from him, worry was evident in her eyes. It puzzled Harry why she looked so worried. He wasn't the one who was nearly choked to death. Moreover, he didn't have any injury to begin with.

"Are you alright?" she asked, ever so concernedly. Instead of answering first, Harry ran his eyes in the room. Theo and Draco were there but quite silently seated on the bed. They looked slightly off, for the lack of better word.

"I'm fine," He finally answered but a bit coldly.

"We saw what happened," she said. "What did Dumbledore say?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing of importance," he said passively. "Only that what I did was serious and all."

"Shouldn't you be sent to Madame Pomfrey?" she suggested, much to his ire. "She should check your vitals. Your display of magic earlier couldn't have been healthy, Harry."

Harry looked straight at her, eyes slightly narrowed in annoyance. "I told you, I'm fine." He spoke to her firmly. "Thank you for the concern but I'm fine. I don't need the matron to check on me."

Daphne's eyes narrowed at him before she stood up. "Alright then," she said, stiffly leaving their quarters.

"Do you have to be rude at everyone who'd show they're worried about you?" Theo sounded annoyed and exasperated.

"I don't need people to be worried about me, I'm fine." Harry darted a look at Draco. "What are you still doing here? Get out." Draco stood up immediately and stood on the same ground as him.

"You're being rude." Draco spoke seriously, followed by a smirk. "Though in fairness, love what you did to Macnair earlier. Wish I could've been there to see it."

Harry glared at the blonde. "Haven't you heard?" he questioned. "I wasn't doing anything."

Draco shrugged, unconvinced. "Your brother can do wandless magic well enough, I don't see why you can't."

"I'm not my brother," he hissed.

"I know." Draco smiled. "If you were, you won't be using it for strangling people."

"I do not go around strangling people, Draco!"

"Thank Merlin for that." Draco nodded at him then at Theo before leaving the room.

"Are you seriously alright?" Theo asked.

"Yes."

"I don't entirely know what happened but from Lars' story, it can't have been good." Harry scoffed. Why his brother would always relay things to Theo and Draco was beyond him. He didn't need the whole school to know what he did.

"We all agree," said Theo, "Macnair deserved what he got. It doesn't make it less wrong though."

"Can you not continue with the upcoming lecture?" Harry asked drily. "I think I've had enough of that without you adding to it."

"I'm not going to lecture you." Theo shrugged. "I'm just saying."

Whilst Harry knew that what he did to Macnair was wrong, he couldn't help but think that perhaps he should've tried doing it when he was in first year. People in Slytherin house were basically being nicer and more civil to him, even the ones who were supremacists to the bone. It was actually fun. It seemed like he had a hold on them. He still hadn't told Midas about what he did, and apparently Midas hadn't seemed to get a whiff of it yet if the absence of letters was anything to go by. He still had a few days before Philip's deadline. The aftermath wasn't all the unlikable at all, except the detention.

"Tell me again why you didn't want a detention with our head of house," Theo asked whilst on their way to Professor McGonagall's classroom. "Nothing against with the cat professor but...mate, she's head of Gryffindor."

"I think you've just answered your question, Theo," said Harry, "I don't want him because he's Snape."

"He's also your potions master."

"Who went through with my guardian's suggestion of postponing my apprenticeship," Harry supplied, "that is really one way to get in my good side."

"What about your apprenticeship?" Harry stopped walking and faced his friend.

"Quite frankly, I don't care anymore," he said in all seriousness, "Even if I don't get to continue this apprenticeship whilst in school, I can still continue it afterwards with a different potions master. He's not the only potions master in the world, Theo."

"He's one of the best-"

"I've been taught by the best alchemist in the world," Harry interjected. "I already am an alchemist, though not a registered one, and I'm only 13 years old. I don't need him to be a great potions master myself. Moreover, I don't need the Ministry's stupid approval. With or without their approval, I already know I'm excellent at what I do."

"That's being extremely arrogant, Harry," Theo pointed out calmly.

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't make it less true," he said evenly, continuing to walk.

When they reached Professor McGonagall's classroom, Harry faced Theo again. "I'm not going to do anything stupid, Theo," he assured his friend. "What I did to that pathetic excuse for a pureblood, I wasn't fully in control…well, I actually lost control. And believe me, I don't think Snape is the best person to spend detention with. I don't quite like him this time."

Theo nodded his head and let out a sigh. "I know," he said to Harry, "but mate, be careful. I don't know if you see how you're acting but I do. It's not at all likable."

"No one liked how Tesla acted back then, as well. And he was always right."

"Being always right is not the measure of a person," Theo retorted immediately, although Harry actually doubted his friend knew who he referred to.

"For me it is."

"You're not the world, Harry." Theo smiled knowingly before leaving.

Harry shook his head then took a deep breath before knocking on Professor McGonagall's door. He was a bit nervous interacting personally with the cat professor. It took about a minute before the professor told him to enter. When he did, he found the professor on her desk with a pile of parchment.

"Good evening Professor McGonagall," Harry greeted as soon as he was near the professor.

"Good evening Mr. Evandrus." Professor McGonagall greeted back. "You may sit down."

Harry sat down on the nearby chair and awaited whatever task professor McGonagall was going to give him. However, five minutes passed by and they both just sat there very quietly. And whilst Harry normally didn't mind the silence, being in the professor's presence was making him a bit edgy.

"Professor," he spoke, "what am I supposed to do? I mean, I'm on detention." Professor McGonagall abruptly stopped writing and looked at him. She looked like she was scrutinising him or something and that really didn't make Harry feel less edgy.

"Firstly, Mr. Evandrus, I wish to apologise." Instantly, Harry raised an eyebrow at the professor's statement.

"Apologise for what?" Harry drawled bemusedly. He'd had it with the word 'apologise' to last him a life time. He should probably make a sign saying he didn't like giving or receiving apologies.

"For what I said, regarding your potion."

"Oh. Oh." Harry was still confused. He had already made it in his mind that what professor McGonagall about his potion wasn't entirely illogical. He had accepted that and he couldn't blame the professor for it. An apology was definitely unexpected.

"It's alright," Harry shrugged a bit, unused that an adult was apologising to him, "I understood perfectly well, professor. Apologies are really not necessary."

Professor McGonagall looked at him curiously for a bit before speaking. "I've heard of your dislike of giving and receiving apologies, Harry."

"I just…think it's pointless." Harry got over it immediately that the head of Gryffindor house used his nickname. "I mean it doesn't change anything. Not to me, at least. But they all seemed to appreciate apologies…but I really don't. It annoys me."

"Why might that be?"

"Because it doesn't change anything," Harry insisted. "Apologising doesn't cancel out what you did, doesn't make it less true that you did it, doesn't just suddenly redeem you. And for all I know, the apology could just be balderdash."

"Very cynical, Harry," Professor McGonagall commented. "You don't like apologies because you think everyone's insincere."

"People are insincere, one way or another." Harry sighed. "I don't like giving or receiving apologies...but I do tend to...appreciate it when I think that it's sincere."

"And your problem with giving apologies?"

Harry crossed his arms petulantly. "Because I don't expect people to apologise to me," he scoffed, "by extension, they shouldn't expect one from me, moreover when it's only about hurting people's feelings."

"I see." Professor McGonagall's long thoughtful look incensed Harry for a bit.

"What –why are we even having this conversation?" he asked irately. "I'm here to serve my detention."

"And you are serving it, Harry." McGonagall replied with a quick quirk of her lips. "If I may, how is your guardian?"

"Dad's fine," he answered quickly.

"And I gather he has not heard of your recent debacle."

"Uh…no…he hasn't." Harry gulped. "Are you going to tell him?" Harry wondered if each and every teacher of his would be like this. It was quite irksome!

"No, I will not. It would be in your interest to tell him, however. Parents do not like their children hiding things from them."

"No, I suppose they don't."

As their chat progressed, Harry found that he didn't mind talking to the professor at all. It was a bit similar with talking to Midas. She didn't judge, only listened to what he had to say and gave some advice. Certainly, it was refreshing talking to her. He didn't regret it one bit, having his detention handler changed. Everything Professor McGonagall said, Harry knew, was every bit genuine. The same could not be said for Slytherin's head of house. At best, the man was the epitome of a dodgy-looking person.

"If you wish," said Professor McGonagall during the third day of his detention, "I will talk to the Headmaster about reducing your detention." The offer was very tempting but Harry dared not take it. He would rather serve his detention fully than hear more about it from his head of house.

"Thank you Professor but if you don't mind, I'll just go with this one."

"Of course." The professor actually smiled at him. He didn't know how to react to that, save nod politely.

Eventually, he took to writing Midas a letter. It didn't say much, only that he had done something wrong. Yes, what he did was admittedly wrong from probably all points of view. Not that he would have regretted offing the idiotic pureblood, though. But, he still knew what was wrong and what was right.

Whatever he was expecting from Midas, it wasn't seeing the man not 2 days after he had sent the letter. The man popped out of the Slytherin fireplace. He didn't even know that fireplace was connected to the floo network! The other students were rightfully startled by the man's sudden appearance and immediately called for Professor Snape. Harry was told that Midas tried to leave before Snape arrived but, it didn't actually help that Midas was going to exit through the passage that Snape entered.

Midas was then sent to his and Theo's quarters. After Arithmancy ended, Harry was told to head there. And he did, despite feeling very nervous about it. His guardian had scolded him for a number of things but never attempted murder. The man didn't know about that debacle in muggle-school, and he really had no intention of relaying that bit.

"Well, sonny?"

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. He wasn't at all sorry but he figured that that was what his guardian wanted to hear.

Midas' eyebrows rose. His face was all stern and parent-ish, bothering Harry even more. Oh, he was so screwed. "Are ye really?"

"Yes?"

"Harold…"

"Alright, fine, I'm not sorry for going Darth Vader on Macnair," he crossed his arms tightly.

Midas sighed deeply. "I wouldn't think so," the man ran a hand on his hair. "alright. Why'd you do it?"

"Which answer would annoy you less?"