The last week of the term Harry was finishing up some end of the year work with his gang, Susan, Hermione, Neville, and Nott.
Or, more accurately, they had taken up a corner of the library to sit and hang out together. Only Hermione looked like she was actually writing anything.
Ron, Nott, and Blaise had their heads together and Harry thought he heard the distinctive clink of coins which meant that they were gambling... again.
Apparently Ron 'had a knack for it'.
Draco and Susan were whispering together about their plans over Christmas break. Dracos family was going to the same posh Yule Ball that Susan would be attending with her aunt.
"What are your plans for the holidays Harry?" Neville asked him politely, out of the blue.
The rest of their group suddenly ended their side conversations. They all leant a little closer, trying to appear casually interested in his answer.
"Stayin' here, signed up last weekend."
"Won't your family miss you?" Hermione asked quietly.
Harry shrugged, rubbing his thumbs across the tabletop.
"My family's dead, ain't they? 'Spect they can't miss me much."
A few of the kids shifted uncomfortably but Blaise still looked curious.
"What about the family Dumbledore sent you to live with? Will they not miss you?"
... what?
Harry stared at Blaise hard.
"What the fuck?" He hissed at him, ignoring Hermiones gasp of outrage at his crude language. "Dumbledore sent me to live with the Dursley's? As in the bloody Headmaster?"
Blaise glanced shiftily at Nott, who grimaced and shook his head.
"I mean, I don't know who the Dursley's are. But everyone said Dumbledore dropped you off with your relatives after he got you from your parents' house," Blaise responded carefully.
Harry kept staring towards Blaise but his thoughts were miles and miles away.
Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the one who dropped him off with the Dursley's? It was Dumbledore who left him with those people?? Who gave him the right?!
"Harry? Are you alright?" Draco patted his arm and Harry jerked it out of his reach.
"Don't touch me," he snarled, refocusing on the group. "'M fine. Just didn't know they let Headmasters of schools decide where orphans live. Ain't there any kind of magical social services or somethin'?"
Hermione got an eager light in her eyes that Harry had associated with her Ravenclaw mind in action.
"Ooh, I bet there's a book about it if so!" She whispered.
Susan laughed at Hermiones fervor.
"Don't bother," she waved her hand. "Of course there is. They have a whole department at the ministry."
Draco, and Ron surprisingly, both nodded in agreement with her.
"Susan's right, my Dad told me there is. I dunno why Dumbledore didn't let them do their job though." Ron said in a thoughtful tone.
"Father tried to have you live with us," Draco said with his upper lip curled. "We are related through your godfather so Mother thought we would have a good chance at getting custody. But apparently Dumbledore had already hidden you away." He stuck his nose up in the air, "We could have been brothers."
Harry didn't miss the way that despite Dracos pretentious pose, he still sounded regretful.
Harry would have liked to have had him for a brother.
He was about to ask who his godfather was- probably someone who died in the war, or they would have came and got him, when Ron jumped in.
"Well, we're brothers now anyway, aren't we Harry?" Ron asked. "I mean, with the gang, it's like we're all brothers."
"Gang? What gang?!" Hermione looked at Ron with wide brown eyes.
Harry groaned, completely distracted from his previous thoughts on Dumbledore and his godfather. Ron really needed to work on shutting his mouth.
Although, it did make Harry's stomach feel warm that he just implied he was Harry's brother.
Don't wish for things you can't have, his mind whispered. It's a weakness and weaknesses get you killed.
"It's supposed to be a secret gang, Weasley," Blaise said sharply.
Susan looked at Harry with a look in her eyes he couldn't interpret.
"Harry, tell me you didn't start a gang," she sighed.
Harry shrugged, and grinned weakly at her.
"Why? Ya don't wanna join, do ya?"
"No she does not want to join a gang," Hermione whispered fiercely. "Gangs are really dangerous!"
"Oh come off it," Ron scoffed while Blaise huffed. "They are not."
"Yes they are!" Hermione insisted. "They kill people and do all sorts of illegal things!"
"Guess you don't wanna join then?" Harry clarified curiously. "I told Draco that it would be good if we had the smartest witch in our year in it, but guess not."
Hermione blushed and Nott laughed quietly.
"Really?" She glanced at Draco then back at Harry. "You actually said that?"
Harry shrugged and twirled his wand between his fingers.
"Yep. But if it's too 'dangerous' that's alright." He tilted his head to the side as he thoughtfully added, "'Course ya didnt mind danger when it was me and Ron savin' ya from that troll."
"Ron and I," Blaise whispered.
"Fuck off," Harry whispered back while Ron and Neville laughed quietly.
Susan poked him in the shoulder and he gave her a small glare, which she ignored.
"I want to join," she said brightly.
"Brill," Harry grinned at her. "You're in," he decided quickly.
"What's a gang?" Neville asked quietly.
"It's an alliance," Nott said quickly before Hermione could respond. "It's just a formal alliance to Potter and his causes."
Neville gaped as he looked at the other Slytherin boys.
"Your p-parents let you join an alliance with Harry Potter?" He asked, bewildered.
Nott lifted one of his brows at Neville.
"Father is actually most pleased with me joining Harry," Draco scowled. "I've told him about how powerful he is and he told me I would be dim not to join."
"My father would like me to wait before formally joining. He said that joining too early may tie to me undesirable causes," Nott added on.
"Huh," Neville looked thoughtful. "M-maybe I should ask Gran if she wants me to join."
"'Kay," Harry agreed easily, checking the time. Neville was a calm sort, he'd be good to have on his side. "Susan, Draco, Ron, Blaise- you guys are all in. Hermione, Neville, Nott- you aren't. Lemme know if ya change your minds."
"Wait! Why am I Nott and everyone else gets their first name?" Nott asked indignantly. "I've known you just as long as Blaise has!"
Harry gave him an incredulous look as he packed up his supplies.
"Ya didn't bloody ask me to, now did ya? Blaise did. And, ya still call me Potter most of the time."
The other kids snickered while Nott muttered, "touché."
"Where ya going mate?" Ron asked as Harry slung his bag over his shoulder.
"Gotta go see Quirrell, don't I? Said he'd teach me how to duel tonight."
"Ooh, really?" Hermione squealed. "I bet it'll be really interesting!"
Susan smirked, "Quirrell? Interesting? I'd lick a slug if that ever happened."
The rest of the group laughed and waved as Harry headed towards the Defense Classroom.
***
Harry knocked cautiously on the Defense teachers office door.
Quirrell hadn't believed Ron's lie about how the troll got its face cut, his face at the time had made that obvious, but Harry didn't know what his reason was for not calling them out.
Even though Professor Quirrell seemed pretty harmless so far, until he knows his motivation then he needs to be careful. He was happy when they had set up a time for a private dueling session but he had a suspicious that Quirrell was going to ask for the real story of how the troll died.
"C-c-come in," the Professor stammered through the door.
Harry stepped inside confidently. He had his hands in his pockets, appearing unconcerned, while clutching his knife in one hand and his wand in the other.
"Hullo Professor, 'm here."
"P-p-potter, so p-pleased you could m-make it, have a seat."
"Thought we were gonna duel, sir?" Harry said, eyeing the seat he indicated warily.
Quirrell chuckled, a sound Harry had never heard from the Professor before.
"Eager, huh P-Potter?"
Harry just shrugged. He was actually quite eager to duel and didn't much feel like making small talk beforehand.
They studied each other silently for a moment before Quirrell broke it off by chuckled again.
"B-back up," he said, standing and raising his wand.
Harry clutched his more securely in his pocket as he backed towards the wall.
With a quick and silent wave- the Professor had cleared all the desks and chair to a neat pile against the far wall.
"Come, stand across from me," Quirrell said, pointing where he wanted Harry to stand.
He walked to his spot, never taking his eyes off his Professor.
"We face each other now Potter, with our backs straight and our wands out."
Quirrell sounded different, softer somehow, and Harry noticed that his stammer had all but disappeared.
Which, he thought to himself, was pretty bloody weird. Unless, maybe Quirrell didn't like large groups? So he gets nervous and stutters when there were a bunch of students or professors around?
Harry could understand that.
Harry stood with his back straight and pulled his wand out. He held it in front of himself, mimicking Quirrells position.
"In a formal duel we bow to each other."
Quirrell demonstrated by bending his back, but keeping his head straight and his eyes on Harry's. Harry quickly did the same thing, not enjoying the submissive feeling of bowing to another person.
"Now, we begin."
Harry definitely wasn't imagining the red hue in Quirrells eyes this time.
"We will only be attempting to disarm each other, Potter."
"Yes sir," Harry muttered.
As soon as Quirrell began firing off spells, silently, Harry knew that he could be a dangerous person to cross.
This was the man in his element. He sent multiple jets of different colored spells directly at Harry- who had to quickly duck, dive, and twirl to avoid them.
"Fire back as you move Potter, don't let me continue my attacks."
Harry thought that was good advice and he quickly pocketed his wand to begin directing his magic through his body and towards the professor.
Stun him. Tie him up. Knock him out. Take his wand. Put boils on his face.
He was pleased when he had to turn away from another beam sent towards him and saw that Quirrell was now having to pause his attacks to erect a shield.
Hurt him. Burn the shield. Take his wand.
Then Harry made a rookie mistake- the kind of mistake that he'd seen other people die for during fights- he paused.
Quirrells shield had indeed burnt up- it looked like a parchment lighting on fire as it crumpled around him and Harry grinned sharply.
Unfortunately that little pause to watch was all the time the older man needed to have his wand, and penknife, fly from his robe pockets to his hand.
"Excellent, Potter." Quirrell praised, twirling Harry's knife through his fingers. "You have good instincts."
"Not bloody excellent if you got my wand, is it?" Harry snarled. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been, he knew better.
Quirrell smirked as he floated Harry's wand back to him.
"You lasted over a minute before I was able to disarm you, that is no small victory."
Harry pocketed his wand and eyed the Professor pointedly.
"My knife, sir?"
Quirrell continued looking at his knife and twirling it.
"I will give this back to you- if you tell me the true events that happened on Halloween."
Harry eyed him shrewdly. "Why?"
Quirrell quirked an eyebrow and hummed thoughtfully.
"I am curious as to how a petite and young child such as yourself managed to kill an adult mountain troll. I thought Weasleys version of events was ill-fitting of the damage to the troll."
"Who d'ya like more in this school, Professor McGonagall or Snape?" Harry asked carefully. The Defense Professor didn't seem to be partially close to any other Professor that Harry had seen, but he knew there could be bonds formed away from students' eyes.
Quirrell laughed sharply and looked at Harry with a smirk.
"You are excellently placed in Slytherin aren't you?"
Harry responded to his deflection with a sharp smile.
He had no idea.
"I find Minerva to be annoying and Severus to be a continuing conundrum," Quirrell finally answered thoughtfully. "So while the true answer is neither, I do prefer to be in the company of Severus as opposed to Minerva."
Harry considered this and nodded, deciding to take a small leap of faith.
"Cut it open, didn't I? Used that knife," he said curtly with a nod towards the knife still in Quirrells hand. "So I want it back, sir."
Quirrell tipped his head to the side, as if weighing the truthfulness of Harry's statement.
"As you wish," he said softly, floating the knife back to Harry.
Harry grasped it and held it firmly in his pocket.
"Prepare yourself Potter, we will begin again."
Harry barely had a chance to straighten his back before Quirrell started firing off spells.
Shield me. He thought quickly, pleased when his solid shield came like it did his first night.
He sent back as many spells as he could, as quickly as he could, hoping to make the Professor hesitate this time.
He hissed angrily when one of Quirrells spells left a shallow cut on his arm.
Rain and wind, he thought desperately. None of his standard curses were getting anywhere near Quirrell. He knew it was a long shot, but he hoped the man didn't know how to fight as well in the rain as Harry did.
"Urgh," Quirrell groaned, using one hand to clutch his turban to his head. "Quick thinking, boy. But a little rain won't get my wand from my hand," he taunted.
Harry smirked and sent a flash of lightning directly at the Professors head.
"Don't call me boy," he hissed.
Quirrel waved his wand and Harry's lightning bolt dissipated right above his turban.
That was a neat trick.
Let's see if he can do it again.
Harry twirled away from a group of incoming curses while flicking his hand out towards his Professor- sending half a dozen lightning bolts directly at him.
His smirk grew in to a grin when Quirrell had to duck and roll away from the bolts of lightning. Apparently his trick didn't work on more than one at a time.
Harry concentrated as hard as he could on his core and let the power fill his whole body before commanding it, give me his wand.
He cheered outright as he leapt in the air to grab the bone white wand flying towards him.
"Gotcha!" He crowed.
Quirrell straightened up and leveled him with a dangerous glare.
"My wand, Potter, now."
Harry smirked and floated it back to him, much like the teacher had when he had Harry's wand.
"Come," Quirrell said abruptly. "Let us have tea and talk."
Harry shrugged with acceptance. The man wasn't so threatening now. He would just send lightning at him if he tried to pull anything.
He sat in the chair placed in front of Quirrells desk and watched as Quirrell poured them both tea and handed Harry a cup.
"Thanks," he murmured, sipping it slowly.
"How are you enjoying Hogwarts?" Quirrell asked him.
"It's brill, ain't it? Just, magic everywhere. Wicked," Harry said enthusiastically.
Quirrell smirked at him, a look that didn't fit his face the same way it fit Snapes.
"And what of Slytherin? Are you enjoying being in the house of snakes?"
He thought about it for a moment before shrugging.
"Well I dunno what the other houses are like, do I? But Slytherin is home so I like it enough."
"Dumbledore was disappointed when you were sorted there, you know."
Harry looked up sharply at the mention of Dumbledore and scowled.
"Good."
The Professor studied him closely before letting out a cold laugh.
"Is the famed Boy-Who-Lived not a fan of Albus Dumbledore?" He wasn't quite mocking him, but Harry felt it was close.
Quirrell leaned forward with a thirsty look in his red-tinged eyes.
"Tell me," he said softly. "What has Albus done in so short a time to earn your displeasure?"
Harry wasn't an idiot. Professor Quirrell was a weird bloke for sure, but he still can't rage against the bleeding Headmaster of the school to one of the Professors.
"'M not displeased with him," he said carefully. "Just don't know him, do I?"
Quirrell leaned back in his seat and seemed to be weighing the truth in his statement.
"Liar," he finally said. "I can see it in your eyes. Does it have anything to do with the third floor corridor?"
Harry stilled.
What?
"Dunno much about the third floor, do I? There somethin' up there?" He guessed.
Quirrell smirked and shook his head. But just like he knew Harry had lied about Dumbledore, Harry could tell he was lying as well.
Wicked.
"Well," Harry drawled. "I should get back to my dorm, curfews comin' up and I don't wanna get caught out in the halls."
Quirrell glanced at the clock then chuckled.
"It appears that our time is up this evening Potter. I would be interested in another lesson after the holidays. I believe I have much I could teach you."
Harry hummed noncommittally. He wasn't sure if he liked the defense Professor much, but dueling was the most fun he's had since his first night.
"Watch your back Potter," Quirrell called as Harry was walking out the door.
He turned and looked at the Professor and saw his eyes were glittering with a look of both amusement and danger that made Harry shudder.
"There are many enemies for the 'Boy-Who-Lived' in this castle."
Harry nodded and closed the door behind him.
He was already well aware of that, thanks.