Chapter Five

A/N: IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE FOR ONCE! PLEASE READ! I have recently (last night) made a change to the first chapter of this fic, specifically the prologue. You will want to go back and read the prologue if you haven't already, otherwise you will be a bit lost as you progress through this chapter. I don't want any of you chuckle monkey's sending me a PM saying how my fic doesn't make any sense, because if I see one I will mock you for not reading author's notes.

Warnings: Language, blood, eroticism, Oppenheimer, and Ron being Ron. Oh, and angst. SO MUCH ANGST. FOUR HUNDRED ANGST.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Though I wouldn't mind having access to some of the characters. Heheheh.

XxXxXxX

- Gryffindor Common Room -

XxXxXxX

Harry lay back less than comfortably on the couch now holding two. Honestly, he could go for a stretch and reposition, but that would involve waking the girl currently asleep on his chest. If he did that, there was the chance she might not lay back down where she was now, and that was worse than having a twisted back and an arm that was slowly falling asleep. He would deal with the discomfort, and he would stretch when she awoke on her own.

Romilda had been up late, crying into his chest for most of it, and Harry had held her the entire time. She hadn't said exactly what had happened, but he could guess. Her two friends didn't approve of him, tried to make her choose between him and them, and were unpleasantly surprised by her decision. Hell, even if he was little shocked by it. The three of them had been friends since the train ride to their first year of Hogwarts, and she had known him for less than a month, and yet she had been willing to give them up to have him as her friend. Sure, he hadn't been the one to make her choose, so that was probably part of it, but it showed a side of his new friend that he had only suspected of so far. Maybe the two would come around soon, maybe not, but they definitely hadn't earned any favour in Harry's book.

Romilda shifted a little bit in his arms and sighed softly in her sleep. She must have been dreaming about something pleasant, because she had a small, honest smile that was contrary to the agonized sorrow she had been bearing in the hours before she finally fell asleep. She nuzzled closer to him, and her curly brown hair fell to one side, exposing her flawless, finely sculpted neck. The dark, animal side of him lurched violently, unexpectedly. He found his attention forcefully drawn entirely to that little pulsing spot of flesh on her neck. The carotid artery. The world faded away until the only two things in existence were the pumping of her heart and the now aching dryness of his throat. The hyper-focus of his sire's kind had been the single greatest challenge Harry had ever faced, and continued to face. While the hunger was often silent, when it awoke, it was insistent. Every time it had awoken in the last ten years, he had killed. Except once.

And now that hunger had laid its evil eyes on the defenseless creature in his arms. It would be the easiest thing he had ever done. His arm was already on her shoulder. All he had to do was slip that hand around her mouth so no one would hear her gasp. His fingers, which he could feel punching through his gums painfully to elongate to usable size, would pierce into her skin, and he would be in pure bliss. His hand, the one not on her shoulder, trailed up her arm and one long, pale finger brushed along that little lifeline like a feather. Romilda's breath hitched ever so slightly, and a hint of a moan slipped out.

His fangs weren't the only part of his making demands now, and his cock pulsed in time with his pounding heartbeat. In his perfectly vivid mind's eye, his dark side took hold of his separate, human urges and conjured images of her to taunt him. Her legs spread wide as she sat on his lap. He was splitting her open in more ways than one as he drove into her from his seated position. His mouth was at the junction of neck and shoulder, and her mouth was wide in a soundless scream of delicious agony.

The image was intoxicating, and his mouth and balls ached with the idea of claiming this young brunette, though in very different ways. Romilda, somehow sensing the change in atmosphere, shifted once more and her body pressed against his screaming erection. The pressure became too much to handle, and his mouth parted to take the blood of this girl into himself.

Then, his perfect memory brought up another image. One of crystal blue eyes, widened in pain, confusion, horror, and betrayal.

XxXxXxX

Romilda woke violently after an amazingly comforting dream. She had been floating, warm and safe, in a world that smelled amazing. Then, without warning, she had been thrown to the ground and Harry was by the portrait leading outside, braced against the wall and heaving heavily. Any indignation she was feeling after such a rude awakening was immediately washed away in a storm of worry for the only boy to have ever held her while she cried herself to sleep.

"Harry? Are you okay?" He waved an arm at her weakly, as though to keep her away from him.

"S-st-..." Whatever he was going to say was cut off when he heaved again, and this time a rush of dark red hit the stone wall beside him. The second he stopped wretching, he was already reaching for his wad to vanish the mess before Romilda realizecd what it was, but it was too late.

"Is that blood!? Oh my god! Harry!"

She lunged at him to help in whatever way she could, but he had forced himself through the now open door and bolted out into the hall. It took her a moment to follow, her senses overwhelmed by the now pungent stench of blood and bile in the doorway. When she cleared the large frame, he was curled against the wall, still heaving, and pressing a button on his wristwatch. Faster than she could reach him, there was a burst of magnificent flame that lit the hallway, and a bird song that split the silence of the night, and Dumbledore was suddenly just there with a fiery bird flapping over him.

The old man immediately saw the condition Harry was in, and his expression turned deadly serious.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"Blood p-poisoning. I'm... I'm purging." The words were forced between gags and gasps, as though it cost him dearly to speak them, but they were said with determination. They of course made no sense to Romilda, but Dumbledore must have understood.

"I thought you had made preparations before your arrival? How could this happen so soon?" Harry's eyes glanced Romilda's way, but he couldn't speak once more. Another wave of bloody vomit splashed onto the stone floor, and Romilda's dinner almost ended up on the floor with it. "I see. Ms. Vane, I'm afraid I must ask you to stay back. Your presence will only make this worse. Fawkes, can you do anything for him?"

The phoenix cawed sadly, and the sound made Harry flinch away violently, as though the sound hurt him.

"My boy, you must know there is nothing I can do to help you through this. You have survived it on your own many times before. Why have you summoned me?" His voice was anxious, though the words could have been considered demeaning. It was an honest question. The old man really did want to help, but could think of no way to.

"Don't... her... see... like th-this."

Romilda had to turn away as Harry was forced to deal with another barrage, and the hallway was starting to smell like death. Only the knowledge that Harry was in a great deal of pain and suffering kept her rooted to the spot. Dumbledore nodded seriously at Harry's garbled request and placed his hand on the suffering boy's shoulder.

"Ms. Vane, if you would be so kind as to return to your bed? I assure you, Mr. Potter is in quite capable hands. I'm sure he will return to his bed before too long, in tip top shape." Romilda wanted nothing more than to argue, but she found herself agreeing to the Headmaster's polite order as his eyes twinkled merrily.

"I'll... be... okay. Tell you... later..."

And there was Harry, puking blood and still worrying about her. She put on a brave smile that made her face hurt, and nodded shakily.

"I'll be waiting for you."

For some reason, that only made Dumbledore's smile grow even more, then the three of them disappeared in another flash of phoenix fire and song, and she was alone again. She waited for a few minutes to see if they would come back, but as time passed she gave up. Her first instinct was to climb into the couch they had just vacated in an attempt to catch some of the warmth they may have left, but it had long since fled, leaving only a hint of his scent. The slight reminder of the handsome boy gave her an idea, and for the first time in her life, she snuck up into the boy's dorm and slipped into a boy's bed. There, surrounded by him, she felt the fear and horror slip away.

As she shifted around to get comfortable, her hand slipped under his soft, thick pillow and brushed along a dry, aged piece of parchment. It wasn't her intention to read it! It was just really distracting... And now that she knew it was there, she wouldn't very well be able to sleep with all the questions floating around her head about what kind of note Harry Potter could possibly be hiding under his pillow like a dirty magazine! Really, the only thing she could be expected to do was figure out who it was from, and then put it back. Then she'd be able to sleep.

Definitely just a peek. That's it.

Admittedly, Romilda felt guilty as she fished out the small letter folded neatly into a yellowed envelope, but by now she couldn't force herself to stop. Especially once she saw who it was from.

To Harry

The name read, in a very feminine hand. Could this be his mother? A sister? Harry had only ever mentioned his godfather when asked about his family, and even then he kept his information brief. Or maybe it was from a girlfriend? He had never mentioned one, but she had never outright asked either. A cold feeling crept into her stomach and throat as the thought occurred to her. What if he had a girlfriend in America? Could that be why he had always politely, though friendly, declined her subtle and sometimes not so subtle advances?

God, now she had to see who it was from. Just the addressing line, that was it. Just enough to find out who it was from and who they were to Harry, and she would put it back and go to sleep in his large bed.

My Darling Son,

We will never meet, but know that I love you more than anything on Earth...

She was going to be in so much trouble when Harry came back.

XxXxXxX

The Headmaster reclined in his chair as he examined the boy on the other side of his desk. It seemed the worst of the attack had passed, and now Harry was just retching dryly. He would have offered a lemon drop, but honestly even if the boy accepted it would just be a waste of a perfectly good confection.

"I'm sorry for the incon-." Harry winced as his stomach rolled painfully. "Inconvenience, sir. I wouldn't have, had Romilda not seen the attack hit."

"Not at all!" The old man waved his apology off happily. "I was up reminiscing about the old days anyway, so no harm done. I doubt a little more beauty sleep would have helped me much, anyway." He chuckled at his own joke, but Harry was as unimpressed with his attempt at humour as always.

"Now, I notice you and Ms. Vane are growing quite close for her to have managed to catch a glimpse of you in a moment of weakness. I'm glad to see you are making friends here. It was, after all, one of the objectives Sirius and I gave you for your time spent here. As for the attack itself, however," His face grew a bit more serious. "Would you care to explain what is going on? I was under the impression that purging only happened to a half-breed when the consumed blood in their system was no longer viable for absorption, and a new source was readily available?"

"Yes, sir." Harry wiped his mouth on a napkin he had procured from one of his many pockets. "Usually a feeding will sustain me for a month. More if I ignore the urges. But for some reason, my other side has rushed the process. I can feel it awakening, but I don't understand how or why. Usually I have more time before I have to..." He trailed off, unable to finish that train of thought. "I haven't even been fighting lately, so that shouldn't be speeding things up either."

Dumbledore pursed his lips at the thought, something occuring to him.

"Actually, that could be the exact reason. You've been in almost daily fights and life-or-death situations since you were old enough to feed. Perhaps now that you hve had a chance to relax, your body's metabolism is catching up with you. Coming out of 'survival mode' as it were." Harry's eyes widened in horror.

"You mean it might stay this way!? I may have to kill every two weeks so I don't hurt someone I care about!?" The boy was shouting now, though more in terror than in rage. "For fuck's sake, I almost killed Romilda-."

"But you didn't." The old man cut him off with an iron certainty that made Harry fall silent. "You showed a level of self-control Sirius and I have been waiting for you to develop. I have full faith that, in that situation, you will be able to take without taking too much. A feat you have yet been ready for. I am now more sure of my decision to allow you around my students than I was before tonight. All you must do is find a steady source you can trust, and make sure to keep an iron will. I'm sure you will be fine."

"But sir," Harry said, frowning heavily. "You can't seriously be suggesting I feast on unsuspecting children?"

"Unsuspecting? Oh heavens no. I expect it to be entirely voluntary before you accept their gift. And it is a gift, make no mistake. We have harbored vampires and the children of vampires in our school before you, and you will certainly not be the last. As special a case as you may be."

Harry snorted in disbelief at the idea of someone being willing ot allow him to take their vein, and Dumbledore just sat there, his eyes sparkling away happily.

"Now, if you are feeling better, I'd say it is high time you returned to bed. I suspect you have a full day ahead of you. You're teaching the fifth years, correct?" Harry nodded and rose to his feet. "Wonderful! I hear the seventh years were quite taken by your last class. Perhaps I will join you this time for a visual review of your material? Disguised in a corner, of course."

"Of course, Headmaster. You are always welcome to supervise one of your classes at any time. I'll be sure to tone down the abuse for your visit."

Harry left the office to echoes of chuckling, and he idly wondered how the old man could just be so happy all the time. Then his thoughts took a darker turn as he wondered what to do about Romilda.

XxXxXxX

When he returned to his dormitory, he was hoping that Romilda would have gone to bed already so that he could have some more time to prepare for the inevitable confrontation. Now that she had been dragged into his terrible secret, he was determined to tell her everything, but that doesn't mean he was looking forward to it. How was she going to react? Fear? That would be the most sensible. He had almost attacked her, and he was going to tell her that too. Hate? It certainly wouldn't be outlandish. Human children, magical or otherwise, were told horror stories of his kind from the time they were old enough to be scared of the things in the dark. And he was a half-breed of one of the worst of them all.

He sighed heavily as he ran his hand through his hair, enjoying the solitude the castle offered in the early hours of the morning, before the sun had even risen. This had always been his favorite time of day. Night actually, when the majority were asleep and the streets were dark and cool. Probably had something to do with his bloodline, but he had always been more comfortable at night. Soon daylight would break, and his world would be totally different than it had been only hours ago.

Despite his slow procrastination, he arrived at the Gryffindor dorms all too soon, and was a little surprised at seeing the couch uninhabited. Maybe she had gone to bed early after all? He allowed a faint hope to blossom in his chest. Perhaps he would have some time to plan out what he was going to say, instead of just letting the words come tumbling out like the blood had done not too long ago. He noticed that the smell and stains were gone, so the house elves must have cleaned up after Harry had stumbled out.

His hopes of getting away without having to explain everything tonight were dashed when he entered his private space to see Romilda sitting on his bed, legs crossed and with a look of steely determination on her face. At some point she had changed into her night clothes. A baggy t-shirt and a pair of criminally short shorts that disappeared into the shirt, which hung low enough over one shoulder for him to see no evidence of a bra. When she spotted him come in, her eyes lit up at once with a blur of emotions. Relief, first and foremost, dread, hope, a lick of fear which was soon squashed by resolve, a touch of guilt. The display worried him a little bit.

"Romilda," Harry whispered softly, so as not to wake the sleeping occupants. Though it shouldn't have been an issue. With Ron snoring loudly just a few places down, his whispers were almost entirely drowned out. The first upside he had seen to them in two weeks. "What are you doing here? I thought females were forbidden from entering the male dorms and vice versa?"

The curly haired brunette's shoulders shook softly, as though she were giggling, and motioned him closer with a wave of her hand. The reason was clear when he stepped into the bounds of his bed and felt a small wave of magic slip over him. A silencing charm, of course. Harry was a little impressed. Hogwarts didn't teach that spell in third year, so she must have done some independent study of some kind to find it.

"Sort of. Boys can't get into the girls' dorm, but we can get in here. Something about us being more trustworthy than you guys."

"I see that. So I take it you wanted to talk tonight instead of leaving it until tomorrow?" The girl shifted a little bit, uncomfortably, but made no move to stand up. The way her beautifully creamy legs moved caught his focus for a moment, before he tore his eyes away. She was looking down to his mattress, and looked even more worried than he did, if that was even possible. He immediately felt guilty for making her feel like that, and ran his fingers through his hair again, sighing. "I'm sorry if that came out rudely. I just... I haven't been looking forward to this since we became friends."

"You mean you were going to tell me this entire time?" Harry nodded. The look in her eye now was of surprise and a touch of happiness. Did she expect him to hide things from her?

"Well, yeah. You're my friend and this is one of those need to know sort of things. May I sit?" Romilda giggled, and scooted back so her back was against the headboard, and there was plenty of space beside her for him.

"Of course! It is your bed, after all." He chuckled at the good-natured young woman, but sat at the end of the bed instead. He wanted nothing more than to lie next to her, but he would wait until after he told her the truth. If she still wanted him to, then he would gladly join her. "Before you start though, I... have something to confess."

The guilt was back.

"When you went with Dumbledore, I was going to wait on the couch for you, but I was cold and I figured if I went back up to my room, you wouldn't be able to wake me up when you came back. And that you wouldn't if you could." She gave him a fake look of reproach, and giggled a little when he smiled lightly. "So I got changed and came up here, instead. I was going to go to sleep and figured I would wake up when you got back, and that we could talk then. I really was worried about you, you know."

He nodded sadly, but didn't interrupt. It was obvious that this was important, so he waited for her to continue. It didn't take long, and she was right back to guilty and nervous.

"So I got comfortable, and was about to fall asleep when I, uh, felt something under your pillow."

Ah... That was it. His eyes glanced over to the pillow, and sure enough it had been disturbed enough in her moving around to be obvious that there was nothing underneath any longer. His eyes slid shut and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Not in anger, but in knowledge that she already knew. That she had seen his single most precious belonging. The only physical evidence of his mother he kept with him, other than his eyes.

"I take it you read it?"

"Harry, I'm so sorry! I didn't, I wasn't going through your things! I just, I was here and it was there, and I was trying to sleep when I felt it, so I had to look to see what it was then I was going to put it back and I saw the handwriting and thought it was from a girlfriend or something, so I got afraid so I just wanted to read the first line to see who it was from, then I just kinda..." Wow. Now that was a sentence without a breath.

"Kept reading?"

Romilda nodded sadly, unable to look at him anymore. She handed the letter over to him, and he put it on his dresser absentmindedly. She was honestly afraid of him at that moment, and it made him feel a little bad. Was she really so scared that he would be angry at her? Blow up at her? Yell, shout? Was she scared for her safety? No, if she had been she wouldn't have told him. Certainly wouldn't have been waiting for him. So what was it?

He put a hand on her knee, the only part of her he could comfortably reach, and she jumped a little from the unexpected contact, but didn't move away.

"You're not a monster!" She blurted out suddenly, wringing the blanket between clenched knuckles. "I know you think you are, but you're not. I might have blindly thought so if we had met before the train and that's all I knew, but there's no way you could be a monster. You're way too kind for that."

"You have only seen the good side of me. The clean side. You haven't seen the side that attacks people. That finds people alone and kills to survive." Her breath hitched at his words. Now she was looking at him with eyes wide. He almost wished she would go back to staring at the blanket. It was better than the expression she was giving him. He was the one to look away.

"Have you really...?" Her voice was soft. So quiet they wouldn't have to worry about being overheard, even without the charm.

"Killed? Yes. Not only for food, either. I told you I was a soldier, and I meant it. I've been fighting since I was seven."

"The people that you... that you feed from. Were any of them..." She hesitated, trying to find the word. "Good? Innocent?" Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought, and it made Romilda smile.

"No. Never. Sirius and I have lived in major cities, mostly, so it was easy to find murderers to use. I can at least claim to have never taken an innocent life. It did come close once, though..."

He hesitated in his story there, and she was sure not to press him for that information. He would tell her when he was read. She was sure of it. It was written all over his face.

"See? Even the bad side of you is still good. Or at the very least, you are more good than you are bad. You came to a school just to teach students to really defend themselves. You put up with the younger years as nicely as any upperclassman I've seen. A monster wouldn't do that. A monster wouldn't hold a silly girl in his arms while she cried herself to sleep." She looked up at him with admiration in her eyes. "You just have a problem you need help dealing with. And... and I want to be the one to help you."

Harry's heart leaped into his throat as she crawled to him on all fours, a fire in her eyes. The neckline other baggy shirt was hanging too low to conceal her breasts, and it was only the seriousness of the situation that kept his eyes on hers.

"What happened earlier, it was because you're hungry, isn't it? You need blood, and I have plenty."

Those words were all it took for his vampire side to come out. His specialized teeth exploded in size, his eyes turned a topaz yellow, and his throat was burning dry. Romilda watched in soft amazement as she watched the changes in his physiology. Especially his teeth! His canines had practically tripled in size, sliding over the bottom row of teeth and just barely not digging into his lower lip. It had to be uncomfortable, judging by the stony look on his face. She reached one hand out hesitantly, and he didn't stop her. Her thumb brushed along his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth to allow her to see them clearly. They were a perfect white, all his teeth were, and they seemed to be razor sharp at the point. In a dangerous sort of way, they were beautiful.

"See? You need this. So let me help you."

She was so incredibly sexy, beautiful, and brave in that moment. Probably more so than she could ever realize. She was facing a starving dog with a steak tied to her neck, and trusting it to know which was which. She came to a stop practically straddling his lap, and his jaw hurt from just how full his fangs were.

"I could hurt you..." She took his head gently between her hands and looked straight into his eyes.

"I know. I trust you not to." And she tilted her neck to the side.

Instinct, held back by the chains of humanity and willpower surged inside him like a wave, and he was being extra careful to control himself. Never before had he show such restraint before he fed. Usually he just let go during the hunt, stepping in just enough to ensure the safety of the innocent. Now that he was paying attention instead of trying to dissociate himself from his body's actions, he was noticing more than he had ever realized. A part of him he had never listened to, or even noticed, before spoke up now and he released his charm just enough to ease the pain of his strike. To blur the lines between pleasure and pain enough to make it easier on her. For him, nothing changed but the addition of one particular smell. For her, all there was in the world was Harry. His smoldering, animalistic eyes of bright yellow. His canines, now elongated like a snake's, or a sabretooth, longer than she imagined could have ever fit in a human skull. His scent flooded her brain, making her swim with the smell of road, male, and dark spices. Deep within her, in a place she was still exploring, a floodgate opened, and she rubbed her thighs together in subconscious expectation.

When he wrapped his arms around her, she shuddered. Her breaths came out ragged and sinfully needful. She couldn't have spoken if she wanted to, and even if she did the words wouldn't have come. Her heart pounded loud enough to make her ears ring as he brought his lips close to her throat, laying a small kiss on the spot he had chosen that made her skin tingle.

"Are you sure?"

She couldn't speak. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was dig the fingers of one hand into his back and the other into his hair, pulling him closer. She needed him to close the gap, to be inside her, to take her, to mark her, whatever he wanted, just right now! His lips opened, his hot breath on her neck, under her ears by a few inches, and there was the fine touch of two illicit little pinpricks. A wave brought her to the peak of something amazing, and as soon as he-.

"Hey Potter, you awake ye-..."

Her eyes shot open in horror, every ounce of lust forgotten, as she heard the grating voice of Ron Weasley. She could, given her close proximity, practically feel the animal rage coming off of Harry, and the thought occurred to her that Ron had just interrupted a half-vampire's feeding. And Harry was staring right at him.

Oh gods. She was about to witness a murder.

Thinking quickly, she pulled on Harry's hair sharply in an attempt to snap him out of the moment, but she was too late. From her position, facing away from Ron, all she heard was a very inhuman hissing, and Ron bolted from the dormitory as though he saw the devil himself. When he was gone, Harry huffed against her skin, and she had to laugh despite herself.

"Is he gone?"

"Yup."

"How much do you think he saw?"

"Well... everything is a strong word. But everything." He groaned into her skin, and she squirmed away. It tickled! "You did hiss at him, after all. Kind of a giveaway. He must have gotten a mouthful of your choppers, too, I'd imagine."

"Yeah, I know. It didn't like being interrupted."

"It?" Harry shrugged and tapped the side of his head, by his temple.

"You know. It." Ah, his 'dark side', of course. She snickered at the fat that he had a word to separate himself from 'it', and he pretended to be offended before smiling. "So, now that I've lost my appetite, shall we rain-check? Maybe for a time where we won't be interrupted by a Weasley?"

Romilda nodded and jumped out of bed, awfully perky for how little sleep she had gotten the night before.

"You're energetic this morning." He tried not to make it sound like a complaint. Just because he made himself wake up obscenely early in the morning didn't mean he had to like it. "What gives? Normally you're a zombie."

"Who knows? Maybe I'm just in a good mood because you trust me with something that is such a big deal to you. Plus, I get to take care of you from now on. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Romilda," Her smile grew even wider when he used her first name again. I thad stuck! "Serious question. At some point soon, unless you change your mind-,"

"I won't!" He ignored her cheerful interruption.

"I am going to bite you on the neck and drink your blood to survive. Why would that make you happy?" She rolled her eyes, and pulled him to his feet by his hands.

"Because I like you. Duh." Harry frowned a little, confused.

"I like you too, but that-." Boys.

"No, doofus. I mean I like like you." That got a flash of realization out of him, and she grinned both saucily and innocently at the same time. "Now come on, before Weasley eats everything."

"Or tells anyone what he saw."

And there went her good mood. Damn.

XxXxXxX

- Battle Magic Training Academy : Year 5 / Class 2 -

Harry stood at the front of the class looking out over the horde of children his own age. Each one was standing at a sloppy, civilian version of parade rest, and was about an arm's length from their neighbor. All in all, he couldn't really complain about the overall level of discipline he had managed to instill in them last class. He just wish it had needed less fear tactics.

"How many of you know what a food fight is? The concept, at least." Three quarters of the class, at least, raised their hand. Apparently food fights were not unknown to the magical population. Who would have thought?

"And how many have been in one?" Only a handful of hands were raised now, Weasley's among them, to the surprise of absolutely no one who had seen him eat. This was more what Harry had expected.

"How many of you have been in a duel? Either a practice one or a 'proper' one." He held the distaste as much as he could, both for the concept of a fair fight and the fact that these children thought they were grown-up enough to have one. A surprising number of hands raised, though it was likely that many of them were lying in an attempt to look cool in front of their friends.

"Well I have good news for those of you who didn't get a chance to raise your hand to one or any of those questions. You're going to have a combination of both today. There will be two spells allowed, the stunning charm and the shield charm I showed you last week. If any other spell is cast, and make no mistake I will know, the caster will have the honor of dueling me personally, one on one. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The entire class echoed out in more or less one voice. Really, it made Harry's heart glow to hear it. There was just something inspiring about eighty or so voices crying out in unison.

"Good." He cast a bubble around himself and stood off to one side, so he could survey the ensuing chaos. "You have ten seconds to prepare, then the duel will commence. The fight will end when one person is left standing. Ten. Nine."

The crowd of students stared at him as though he had gone mad. It was possible they didn't understand the exercise, or precisely what he meant by 'ten seconds to prepare', but they did catch on that something was about to happen when he stopped counting. He knew their world would not be the same after this class. A few people laughed. A few people cried. Most people were silent. Harry remembered a line from the Hindu scripture. Bhagavad-Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty and, to impress him, takes on his multi-armed form and says, "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."

Then he finished counting. And there was chaos.

The fight, if you could really call it that, was over in less than three minutes. Over a third of the class had been wiped out in the opening volley, both by spells cast at them personally and by spells that missed their intended target and caught them instead. The rest of the time was spent with students trying to protect themselves and stun others at the same time. Blaise Zabini was the last man standing, and it was not due to any particular skill as a duelist, but because he had slipped into one corner while Harry was counting down and cast a shield in front of him to make himself as small a target as possible. When the last few duelists were tiring each other out, he had shot them in the back.

Before he cast the area effect spell that would revive them all simultaneously, he nodded to Zabini in respect and indicated the pile of bodies that once were his classmates.

"This is war. You're the only person who will see this scene properly, and I want you to remember it." He could tell by the intelligence in the boy's eyes as he surveyed the others, that he understood and would remember it.

While everyone woke at the same time, each student recovered and reacted differently from the ordeal. Some chattered away happily as they stood up, finding their friends and laughing about getting the chance to stun someone over some perceived slight. Others sulked at being taken out of the fight so quickly, or glared at Harry for putting them into a situation like that. Only a few sat up slowly and looked around the class before everyone had stood up, taking in the ghastly image of many of their friends laying, splayed out along the training mat covered floor, where they had been unmoving just a moment ago. They were the students Harry kept an eye on. Those were the ones he hoped would stay after the test period was over.

Harry gave the class a few minutes to get the chatter mostly out of their system, then cleared his throat to get his attention. He was ignored. He called out for them to retake their positions. He was ignored again. He pulled out his wand.

And within moments, they were back to standing at parade rest.

"Okay, how many of you thought that was fun?" Most people had raised their hands, though most of those unlucky enough to be the first down refrained. "How many of you would like the chance to have another shot at that?" Eighty percent of hands were raised now.

"And how many would want to do it if whoever went down never got back up again." Now everyone was staring at him in complete, horrified silence. "What you just witnessed is something your parents saw before we were born. When Voldemort was a the height of his power, and war was being waged for our very country, the little skirmish you were just involved in were very real fights to the death. And not every person involved wanted to be. That is what war is. That is what I am here to prepare you to defend yourself against. So that if and when something like the war happens again, you won't be lying on the ground as your loved ones are still trying to fight on without you."

He glared out at the children, hoping to drive his point home that this wasn't about fun and games. It wasn't about a silly little class to pay half attention in, get a grade, and then go enjoy your summer holiday. That it was real. The seventh years had understood. The underclassmen hadn't. Not really, but that wasn't their fault. These students were old enough to understand though, and they needed to.

"If you only take one lesson away from my classes, it had better not be the shield charm. It had better not be how to stand at attention. That one lesson had better be the memory of you lying on the ground, surrounded by the bodies of your friends. Am I understood?" Only a few people answered, as most were staring off into space, frowning thoughtfully. "I said, am I understood!?"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

Now that was inspiring.

XxXxXxX

"Alright, that's enough. Class is dismissed. Keep working on what I showed you, and I'll see you back here next week! Parkinson, Weasley, come see me."

The class moved out in a giant herd, though this time it was far more slow moving than usual, as each student was lost in their thoughts. Almost every one had tried harder in that one lesson than they likely ever had in their lives. With any luck, they would take that with them outside of his class, but he wasn't about to hold his breath.

Parkinson stayed close to one wall and let Ron edge closer to Harry, as though approaching a caged tiger to try and get a photograph without getting an arm bitten off.

"Weasley," His voice was very low, almost a whisper, and Ron had to get very close to hear him properly. "Whatever you saw, whatever you think you saw this morning when you invaded my privacy, I want you to forget it. Bury it in your mind and never think about it again, and I won't say another word about it. But if you decide to share it with someone, both you and whoever you told, are going to be in for a very serious discussion with me. Okay?'

Ron's face was bone white, and he stammered something unintelligible before Harry waved him away. For the second time that day, the red head practically sprinted away from him. After he was gone and the door had shut behind him, Pansy approached.

"Potter, about the conversation we had last time..."

"Hang on a moment." Pansy was slighted for a moment, but it faded away when Harry spoke to an empty corner of the room. "So, what did you think, Headmaster? Not too traumatizing, I hope?"

There was a ripple of a disillusionment falling, and Professor Dumbledore stepped away with a rather serious expression. Even his eyes weren't twinkling as brightly as they usually did.

"Harry, I'm not sure what to say about this lesson. I can't argue that it is an important one to learn, but for children so young to learn it in such a fashion!" He disproved then. Big surprise there.

"Sir, we both know that the most important lessons to learn are the most painful. I think I managed it, or as close as I could have at least, as painlessly as possible. No one was hurt, other than in their pride, and a few might even grow up some from this. I would rather be mean to them now and scare the knowledge into them than they learn it the hard way in the future with blood on their hands, knowing they could have prevented it if they had taken things more seriously."

The old man sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead over his glasses.

"And yet again, whatever reproachful words I may have had planned have been reduced to ash in the face of your well worded arguments. You are simply too good at that, you realize?" Harry allowed a small, one-sided smile to appear.

"I learned form the best, sir."

"Yes, I suppose you did. Very well, I for one am rather impressed by how you handled this class. I know for a fact Ms. Granger and Mr. Zabini will walk away from this changed. The rest I am unsure of, but we can hope. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm afraid I have to go tell the rest of the staff what a monster you are in your training regimen. I doubt Professor McGonagall will be considered the strict teacher she once was after you are gone. A good day to you, Ms. Parkinson. I was very impressed by your improvement this lesson."

"Thank you, Headmaster." With that, Dumbledore exited the room, leaving the two alone. "He was there the entire time, huh?"

"He has had one of the teachers watch every training session I have with you guys so far to make sure I'm not just abusing you for shits and grins. I imagine it will taper off in the next week, then I can really start putting these brats to the grindstone." The ominous grin made Pansy shudder, not looking forward to future lessons.

"And here I thought you were just abusing us for shits and grins." He glanced over at her, and this time his grin was a little intimidating.

"Oh you haven't seen anything yet. Now, what were you going to say? I didn't want the Headmaster to overhear anything you didn't want him to know."

She appreciated the gesture. She really did, it would have been horrifying if anyone but Harry knew what she was about to tell him. She just wasn't sure how to show it, so she didn't.

"I can't say who is doing it. Don't give me that look, I mean I am literally unable to tell you. Some kind of spell that makes it unable to reveal them when it first started. All I can say is that most of Gryffindor is just waiting for the chance to kick their ass, okay? Most of the other houses as well, but Gryffindors are the most likely to actually do it. I don't know what you plan to do to make the situation go away, and I think I will want the plausible deniability when it does, just know that after it gets taken care of, I'll owe you. Big. As in..." Her hesitation made it obvious what she was getting at, but he let her get it out at her own pace. It took her a minute to get her thoughts straight, but Harry was patient.

"For as long as this has been going on, I never expected a chance to be rid of it. I thought this would be my life forever, you know? I thought I would be bound to them for as long as they kept me around, and that my severance package would be under six feet of dirt. I've gotten used to the idea of my life belonging to someone else. It sort of wraps into what they've done to me, too. Just..." Fuck, why was this so hard to get out? "Look, you get me out of belonging to who I do now, and I'll belong to you instead. I'd be a hell of a lot happier for it."

"You realize I'm not doing this to get anything out of you, right? This is me helping you because I want to. I don't expect you to pay me back, and I sure as hell don't expect you to become my slave or some shit."

She glared at him, and he flinched back a little at the intensity.

"Yeah? Well we don't always get what we want, do we, asshole? If you don't think you can handle the consequences of what you're planning, then just leave me to it. Because I'll tell you straight, if you do this and then drop me like a bad habit, I won't survive. I can't say why, but I. Will. Die."

She stormed away from him, her hair staying elevated for just a moment from the intensity of her spin, and the door slammed shut behind her, leaving a very confused and somewhat hurt Harry Potter behind. Only one thought was going through his mind at the moment.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

A/N: OH MY GOD! TWO CHAPTERS IN A WEEK (Give or take) IS THAT INCREDIBLE OR WHAT!? GSD:LESHFJCD:vdrfnjagnvdfj -drools on keyboard-

-Clears throat-
Well, now that I've gotten that out of my system, let's clear up some business. Romilda has confessed her feelings for Harry, Ron is sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, and Pansy has brought up some interesting details and actually extended an olive branch in agreeing to allow him to help her. As much as Pansy will let anyone help her, at least. Man, I love her character. I haven't given her much screen time yet, but just give it some time. Things have to progress, otherwise it will just be a plotless smut fic.

Which reminds me. Read more smut fics.

Anywho, some really juicy going-ons in this chapter! Oh, as for Ron. I'm not actually bashing his character, though I'm not his biggest fan. He's honestly going to try to do the right thing, he is just... well... Ron. So to everyone who hates him, enjoy! To everyone who loves him. Enjoy? Just know I'm not bashing him for shits and grins. There's a method to the madness. Or is there!? DUN DUN DUN!

As always, read, review, drop me a line and I'll try to get back to you personally to answer any questions you might have. Hell, if you ask nicely enough, I may even give you some spoilers. I'm terrible with secrets. Christmas and birthdays gets depressing.

Oh yeah, and this chapter, much like every other chapter I have ever posted ever, has not been edited because that takes time and I want to post these damn things more than you, personally, want to read them. So... deal? Feel free to point out any major errors though. It's four in the morning and I haven't slept yet, so I might fix it tomorrow.

No promises.

Thanks for reading, guys!

- Nikolai Carpathia