(Y/N)'s POV

On the morning of the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Harry and I dropped in on the hospital wing before heading down to the pitch. Ron was very agitated; Madam Pomfrey would not let him go down to watch the match, feeling it would overexcite him.

Personally, I thought the only thing that would overexcite him would be Lavender when she finally got her hands on him. I don't see what all the fuss was about. But Ron was very anxious, "So how's McLaggen shaping up?" he asked Harry nervously, apparently forgetting that he had already asked the same question twice.

"I've told you," said Harry patiently, "he could be world-class and I wouldn't want to keep him. He keeps trying to tell everyone what to do, he thinks he could play every position better than the rest of us. I can't wait to be shot of him."

I sighed, "I keep telling you, just give me the word and-" "NO!" bellowed Harry, who was against the idea of me giving Ron some company in the hospital wing. "Whatever, Lavender's missing you by the way, she asks me to 'send you her love'" I shrugged.

Ron beamed at me, "She's great isn't she?" he said with unmistakable delight in his tone. I nodded, "Yeah, she's phenomenal" I rolled my eyes, "Hermione going to look in before the match?" he added casually.

I shook my head, "No, she's already gone down to the pitch with Ginny." "Oh, why aren't you down there with her?" said Ron, looking rather confused. "Because I'm checking in on some prat who likes drinking poison." I chortled. "You're one to talk!" he said indignantly.

"Are we forgetting when you were in this room with me? In that bed right there" he pointed beside him and reminded me of something I needed to do. "I spat it out like a rational person, you downed it, so who's the idiot here?"

After five minutes of bickering back and forth Harry interrupted. "Better get going." Harry said, getting to his feet and picking up his Firebolt. Ron nodded. "Right. Well, good luck." "Hope you hammer McLag-I mean, Smith."

"I'll try," said Harry, shouldering his broom. "See you after the match." "How you feeling?" I said awkwardly to strike up conversation as Harry left. "Alright I suppose" he said, stretching, "No pain at all?" he shook his head, "Good, then I'll do this quickly."

He turned his head in confusion as I silenced our conversation from Madam Pomfrey with the Prince's spell.

"We need to talk about Hermione before this gets out of hand...Again." I sighed, he went a little paler, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you...too many witnesses." I chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood, he audibly gulped and started stuttering.

"Ron, I'm not gonna kill you" I repeated, hoping to drive this point home, "I was just upset last time I threatened you. That being said, I did warn you." I grabbed either side of his face, he looked shocked "Geddoff" he yelped out at me/

"Sorry, I have to get this out of my system beforehand" I explained. He went beet red, "What?" he said his eyes bulging. "What are you-!" I leaned a little closer. Then, I leaned my head back and put my forehead directly into the base of his nose, not hard enough to do any real damage.

As I pulled back, he groaned in pain, but of course I had used the Prince's handy spell to muffle any sound he made. I groaned too, "Ahhh, why did I do that?" I instantly regretted it, holding my head to get rid of the rattling noise inside.

I blinked the beginnings of tears out my eyes, "That really hurt." I said that, but looking at Ron, I was definitely the winner, he was rubbing his head so much it looked raw. "Sorry 'bout that, did warn you though" I said.

He was livid at me. "What are you on about you mentalist! What the bloody hell was that for?" That was when I came to the realisation he had no recollection of what he said to Hermione and a very small part of my brain felt a teensy bit bad about it.

So I used Legilimancy to numb his pain a bit. I explained what happened while he was asleep, he seemed to remember something and said "That's what Lavender was on about! Last time I saw her she started bawling her eyes out about me saying something."

"I didn't know what she was talking about so I just smiled and nodded and told her not to worry" I couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, been there, that's how I get through most of my study sessions with Hermione" I confessed.

We chuckled a bit, "Right, we sorted then, or are you going to keep hitting an injured man? Should I be worried about snuffing it in my sleep?" He asked groaning. I sighed, "Sorry man, It's just...she's my girlfriend y'know."

"Yeah, I noticed. The snogging tipped me off." He retorted. "Good, just promise you won't start making moves on Hermione and nothing like this will ever happen again" "Yeah, course" I nodded, "Good, I promise I'll try to contain myself next time I see Lavender too." I smiled.

"Next time, ask first, then headbutt" he advised. He took It a lot better then I thought he would, I was half expecting to have to wipe his memory, but he seemed content and very focused on Quidditch.

I guess being poisoned must have put things in perspective for him too, that, or the Hospital Wing was really that boring. We spent the next minute laughing, as I went to apologise again, we were graced with Madam Hooch's whistle and a call for the Quidditch to start over the radio

"Son of a motherless troll!" I exclaimed, realising how late I was, I darted off the bed, dispelling my silencing charm and waving bye to Ron quickly, "I'll visit you later!" I called as I sprinted out of the room.

Waving to me halfheartedly, Ron forgot all about me and was entirely focused on the match, and its excellent commentary. Hurrying down to the Gryffindor stands I found Hermione, luckily her hair made her stand out in most crowds.

"Hey, what'd I miss? What's the score?" I said, giving her a quick peck, she smiled and then it turned into a little frown, "Seventy-forty to Hufflepuff" she said, downtrodden. I held her hand, "Comeback time I imagine."

After a minute of hearing the utterly amazing commentary for the match, I noticed something odd, as did Hermione, she voiced it first, "What is McLaggen playing at?" "I've been asking myself that for months" I said, shaking my head.

I could not find an ounce of logic in what he was doing. "Why the hell does he have a beaters-" I didn't get time to finish my thought, I was too shocked by the turn of events that unfolded in front of me and how monumentally stupid McLaggen was.

The audience let out a sympathetic gasp of horror, myself and Hermione included, it was followed by dead silence, my stomach twisted and a shiver flew up my spine. We looked to each other and darted back to the hospital wing.

Harry's POV

"Where have you been?" demanded Ginny, as I sprinted into the changing rooms. The whole team was changed and ready; Coote and Peakes, the Beaters, were both hitting their clubs nervously against their legs.

"I met Malfoy," I told her quietly, as I pulled my scarlet robes over my head. "So I wanted to know how come he's up at the castle with a couple of girlfriends while everyone else is down here..."

"Does it matter right now?" "Well, I'm not likely to find out, am I?" I argued, seizing my Firebolt and pushing my glasses straight. "Come on then!"

And without another word, we marched out onto the pitch to deafening cheers and boos. There was little wind; the clouds were patchy; every now and then there were dazzling flashes of bright sunlight.

"Tricky conditions!" McLaggen said bracingly to the team. "Coote, Peakes, you'll want to fly out of the sun, so they don't see you coming —" "I'm the Captain, McLaggen, shut up giving them instructions," I said angrily. "Just get up by the goal posts!"

Once McLaggen had marched off, I turned to Coote and Peakes. "Make sure you do fly out of the sun," I told them grudgingly.

After shaking hands with the Hufflepuff Captain, on Madam Hooch's whistle, we kicked off and rose into the air, I went higher than the rest of the team, streaking around the pitch in search of the Snitch.

If I could catch it good and early, there might be a chance I could get back up to the castle, seize the Marauder's Map, and find out what Malfoy was doing.

"And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle," said a dreamy voice, echoing over the grounds. It took me a second to place the voice.

"He did the commentary last time, of course, and Ginny Weasley flew into him, I think probably on purpose, it looked like it. Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now he's playing them...oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, I do like her, she's very nice..."

My curiosity got the better of me and I had to check I wasn't imagining things, I paused and stared down at the commentator's podium. Surely nobody in their right mind would have let Luna Lovegood commentate?

But even from above there was no mistaking that long, dirty blonde hair, nor the necklace of butterbeer corks...Beside Luna, Professor McGonagall was looking slightly uncomfortable, as though she was indeed having second thoughts about this appointment.

"...but now that big Hufflepuff player's got the Quaffle from her, I can't remember his name, it's something like Bibble...no, Buggins-" "It's Cadwallader!" said Professor McGonagall loudly from beside Luna.

The crowd laughed. I stared around for the Snitch; there was no sign of it. Moments later, Cadwallader scored. McLaggen had been shouting criticism at Ginny for allowing the Quaffle out of her possession, with the result that he had not noticed the large red ball soaring past his right ear.

"McLaggen, will you pay attention to what you're supposed to be doing and leave everyone else alone!" I bellowed above the crowd, wheeling around to face his Keeper. "You're not setting a great example!" McLaggen shouted back, red-faced and furious.

"And Harry Potter's now having an argument with his Keeper," said Luna serenely, while both Hufflepuffs and Slytherins below in the crowd cheered and jeered. "I don't think that'll help him find the Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse..."

Swearing angrily and realising she was right and I shouldn't waste time, I spun round and set off around the pitch again, scanning the skies for some sign of the tiny, winged golden ball. Ginny and Demelza scored a goal apiece, giving the red-and-gold-clad supporters below something to cheer about.

Then Cadwallader scored again, making things level, but Luna did not seem to have noticed; she appeared singularly uninterested in such mundane things as the score.

She kept attempting to draw the crowd's attention to such things as interestingly shaped clouds and the possibility that Zacharias Smith, who had so far failed to maintain possession of the Quaffle for longer than a minute, was suffering from something called "Loser's Lurgy."

"Seventy-forty to Hufflepuff!" barked Professor McGonagall into Luna's megaphone. "Is it, already?" said Luna vaguely. "Oh, look! The Gryffindor Keeper's got hold of one of the Beater's bats."

"Surely not" I thought, wheeling around in mid-air. Sure enough, McLaggen, for reasons best known to himself, had pulled Peakes's bat from him and appeared to be demonstrating how to hit a Bludger toward an oncoming Cadwallader.

"Will you give him back his bat and get back to the goal posts!" I roared, pelting toward McLaggen just as McLaggen took a ferocious swipe at the Bludger and mishit it.

A blinding, sickening pain...a flash of light...distant screams...and the sensation of falling down a long tunnel. And the next thing I knew, I was lying in a remarkably warm and comfortable bed and looking up at a lamp that was throwing a circle of golden light onto a shadowy ceiling.

I raised my head awkwardly. There on my left was a familiar-looking, freckly, red-haired person. "Nice of you to drop in," said Ron, grinning. "Yeah, when you said you'd visit later, you didn't have to rush." said someone else.

I turned to another, taller figure beside him, waving their arms around frantically, making my vision feel very blurry, (Y/N) came into focus as he started to rant "I'll kill him! I'm gonna take a beaters bat and make him eat it!"

Blinking and looking around. I realised I was, of course: in the hospital wing. The sky outside was indigo streaked with crimson. The match must have finished hours ago...as had any hope of cornering Malfoy.

My head felt strangely heavy; I raised a hand and felt a stiff turban of bandages. "What happened?" "Cracked skull," said Madam Pomfrey, bustling up and pushing me back against the pillows.

"Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I'm keeping you in overnight. You shouldn't over exert yourself for a few hours." "I don't want to stay here overnight," I said angrily, sitting up and throwing back his covers. "I want to find McLaggen and kill him."

"I'm afraid that would come under the heading of 'overexertion,'" said Madam Pomfrey, pushing me firmly back onto the bed and raising her wand in a threatening manner. "You will stay here until I discharge you, Potter, or I shall call the headmaster." She bustled back into her office, and I sank back into the pillows, fuming.

"D'you know how much we lost by?" I asked Ron through clenched teeth, he and (Y/N) shared a glance, not a good sign. "Well, yeah I do," said Ron apologetically. "Final score was three hundred and twenty to sixty."

"Brilliant," I said savagely. "Really brilliant! When I get hold of McLaggen-" "You don't want to get hold of him, he's the size of a troll," said Ron reasonably, miming a swaying troll. "Yeah, I'll do that bit, you can take a few swings at him with a beaters bat if you'd like" chipped in (Y/N).

"Personally, I think there's a lot to be said for hexing him with that toenail thing of the Prince's" added Ron, (Y/N) wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Anyway, the rest of the team might've dealt with him before you get out of here, they're not happy..."

There was a note of badly suppressed glee in Ron's voice; I could tell he was nothing short of thrilled that McLaggen had messed up so badly. But I lay there, staring up at the patch of light on the ceiling, my recently mended skull not hurting, precisely, but feeling slightly tender underneath all the bandaging.

"I could hear the match commentary from here," said Ron, his voice now shaking with laughter. "I hope Luna always commentates from now on...Loser's Lurgy..." "She's brilliant, always finds a way to cheer me up" (Y/N) agreed.

But I was still too angry to see much humour in the situation, and after a while Ron's snorts subsided. (Y/N) smirked at me and said "Ginny came in to visit while you were unconscious," he winked.

My imagination zoomed into overdrive, rapidly constructing a scene in which Ginny, weeping over my lifeless form, confessed her feelings of deep attraction to me while Ron gave us his blessing...

"She reckons you only just arrived on time for the match. How come? You left here early enough." "Oh..."  I said, as the scene in my mind's eye imploded.

"Yeah...well, I saw Malfoy sneaking off with a couple of girls who didn't look like they wanted to be with him, and that's the second time he's made sure he isn't down on the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the school; he skipped the last match too, remember?" I sighed at the lost opportunity.

"Wish I'd followed him now, the match was such a fiasco..." "Don't be stupid," said Ron sharply. "You couldn't have missed a Quidditch match just to follow Malfoy, you're the Captain!"

"And don't tell me its all in my head, not after what I overheard between him and Snape-" I warned Ron as he gave me a disbelieving look, "I never said it was all in your head," said Ron, hoisting himself up on an elbow in turn and frowning at me.

"but there's no rule saying only one person at a time can be plotting anything in this place! You're getting a bit obsessed with Malfoy, Harry. I mean, thinking about missing a match just to follow him..." "I want to know what he's up to," I reasoned, feeling that was much more important.

"Why didn't you come get me you prat, I wasn't going to be at the match until late anyway, I was too busy dealing with this one," he jabbed a finger in Ron's direction "I could have followed him, we all know I'm a master of stealth" said (Y/N).

"I want to catch him at it!" I said in frustration. "I mean, where's he going when he disappears off the map?" "I dunno...Hogsmeade?" suggested Ron, yawning. "I've never seen him going along any of the secret passageway on the map. I thought they were being watched now anyway?"

"Well then, I dunno," said Ron. Silence fell between them. As (Y/N) left to see Hermione and Ron went off to sleep I was kept awake by my need to find a way to catch Malfoy out, until it clicked, I had the solution at last.

There was a way to have Malfoy followed, how could I have forgotten, why hadn't anyone thought of it before? But the question was, how to call him? What did you do? How does (Y/N) do it again? I mulled it over, then quietly and tentatively, I spoke into the darkness. "Kreacher?"

There was a very loud crack, and the sounds of scuffling and squeaks filled the silent room. Ron awoke with a yelp. "What's going-?" I pointed my wand hastily at the door of Madam Pomfrey's office and muttered, "Muffliato!" so that she would not come running.

Scrambling to the end of the bed I found two house-elves were rolling around on the floor in the middle of the dormitory, one wearing a shrunken maroon jumper and several woolly hats, the other, a filthy old rag strung over his hips like a loincloth.

Then there was another loud bang, and Peeves the Poltergeist appeared in mid-air above the wrestling elves. "I was watching that, Potty!" he said indignantly, pointing at the fight below, before letting out a loud cackle.

"Look at the ickle creatures squabbling, bitey bitey, punchy punchy—" "Kreacher will not insult Harry Potter in front of Dobby, no he won't, or Dobby will shut Kreacher's mouth for him!" cried Dobby in a high-pitched voice. "— kicky, scratchy!" cried Peeves happily, now pelting bits of' chalk at the elves to enrage them further.

"Tweaky, pokey!" "Kreacher will say what he likes about his master, oh yes, and what a master he is, filthy friend of Mudbloods, oh, what would poor Kreacher's mistress say —?"

Exactly what Kreacher's mistress would have said they did not find out, for at that moment Dobby sank his knobbly little fist into Kreacher's mouth and knocked out half of his teeth.

Ron and I both leapt out of our beds and wrenched the two elves apart, though they continued to try and kick and punch each other, egged on by Peeves, who swooped around the lamp squealing.

"Stick your fingers up his nosey, draw his cork and pull his earsies —" I had enough of the poltergeist, I aimed my wand at Peeves and said, "Langlock!"

Peeves clutched at his throat, gulped, then swooped from the room making obscene gestures but unable to speak, owing to the fact that his tongue had just glued itself to the roof of his mouth.

"Nice one," said Ron appreciatively, lifting Dobby into the air so that his flailing limbs no longer made contact with Kreacher. "That was another Prince hex, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," I said as I started twisting Kreacher's wizened arm into a half nelson. "Right — I'm forbidding you to fight each other! Well, Kreacher, you're forbidden to fight Dobby. Dobby, I know I'm not allowed to give you orders-"

"Dobby is a free house-elf and he can obey anyone he likes, and Dobby will do whatever Harry Potter wants him to do!" said Dobby, tears now streaming down his shrivelled little face onto his jumper.

"Okay then," I said as Ron and I both released the elves, who fell to the floor but did not continue fighting. "Master called me?" croaked Kreacher, sinking into a bow even as he gave me a look that plainly wished me a painful death.

"Yeah, I did," I said, glancing toward Madam Pomfrey's office door to check that the Muffliato spell was still working; there was no sign that she had heard any of the commotion.

"I've got a job for you." "Kreacher will do whatever Master wants," said Kreacher, sinking so low that his lips almost touched his gnarled toes, "because Kreacher has no choice, but Kreacher is ashamed to have such a master, yes —"

"Dobby will do it, Harry Potter!" squeaked Dobby, his tennis-ball-sized eyes still swimming in tears. "Dobby would be honoured to help Harry Potter!"

"Come to think of it, it would be good to have both of you," I thought aloud. "Okay then...I want you to tail Draco Malfoy." Ignoring the look of mingled surprise and exasperation on Ron's face, I went on.

"I want to know where he's going, who he's meeting, and what he's doing. I want you to follow him around the clock." "Yes, Harry Potter!" said Dobby at once, his great eyes shining with excitement.

"And if Dobby does it wrong, Dobby will throw himself off the topmost tower, Harry Potter!" "There won't be any need for that," I said hastily. "Master wants me to follow the youngest of the Malfoys?" croaked Kreacher.

"Master wants me to spy upon the pureblood great-nephew of my old mistress?" "That's the one," I spoke, foreseeing a great danger and determining to prevent it immediately.

"And you're forbidden to tip him off, Kreacher, or to show him what you're up to, or to talk to him at all, or to write him messages or...or to contact him in any way. Got it?"

I could see Kreacher struggling to see a loophole in the instructions he had just been given and waited. After a moment or two, and to my great satisfaction, Kreacher bowed deeply again and said, with bitter resentment.

"Master thinks of everything, and Kreacher must obey him even though Kreacher would much rather be the servant of the Malfoy boy, oh yes..."

"That's settled, then," "I'll want regular reports, but make sure I'm not surrounded by people when you turn up. Ron, (Y/N) and Hermione are okay. And don't tell anyone what you're doing. Just stick to Malfoy like a couple of wart plasters."

With this new set of instructions both House Elves bowed and disapparated from the room, I sat up that night with Ron, he was convinced that we had Malfoy dead to rights and kept talking about how brilliant my plan was.

(Y/N)'s POV

Harry and Ron left the hospital wing first thing on Monday morning, restored to full health by the ministrations of Madam Pomfrey and now able to enjoy the benefits of having been knocked out and poisoned, the best of which was that Hermione was friends with Ron again.

Hermione even escorted us down to breakfast, wrapping her hand in mine and looking very cheerful, bringing with her the news that Ginny had argued with Dean.

All of a sudden, upon hearing this Harry stood up straighter and had a bounce to his step that made his real feelings painfully obvious.

I was surprised Ron hadn't caught on yet, then I remembered it was Ron and suddenly, I wasn't surprised at all. He was too busy necking Lavender half the time to know or care.

"What did they row about?" Harry asked, trying to sound casual as we turned onto a seventh-floor corridor that was deserted but for a very small girl who had been examining a tapestry of trolls in tutus.

She looked terrified at the sight of the approaching sixth years and dropped the heavy brass scales she was carrying. "It's all right!" said Hermione kindly, hurrying forward to help her. "Here..." She tapped the broken scales with her wand and said, "Reparo."

The girl did not say thank you, but remained rooted to the spot as we passed and watched them out of sight; Ron glanced back at her. "I swear they're getting smaller," he said. "Really? I don't see it" I commented.

"Never mind her," said Harry, a little impatiently. "What did Ginny and Dean row about, Hermione?" "Oh, Dean was laughing about McLaggen hitting that Bludger at you," said Hermione.

"It must've looked funny," said Ron reasonably "It didn't look funny at all!" said Hermione hotly, "It looked terrible and if Coote and Peakes hadn't caught Harry he could have been badly hurt!"

"Yeah, your head sort of..." I couldn't think of the words so I just mimed a large blood splatter coming from the side of his head. Harry shrugged. "Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it," he said, still trying to sound casual.

I lost all composure, letting out a snort of laughter. Harry turned to me and glared and then back to Hermione, "Or are they still together?" "Yes, they are...but why are you so interested?" asked Hermione, giving Harry a sharp look.

"I just don't want my Quidditch team messed up again!" he said hastily, but Hermione continued to look suspicious, "Nice save" I whispered to him. Before she could pry any more a voice behind us called, "Harry!" giving him an excuse to turn his back on her.

"Oh, hi, Luna." "I went to the hospital wing to find you," said Luna, rummaging in her bag. "But they said you'd left..." She thrust what appeared to be a green onion, a large spotted toadstool, and a considerable amount of what looked like cat litter into Ron's hands, finally pulling out a rather grubby scroll of parchment that she handed to Harry.

"...I've been told to give you this." It was a small roll of parchment, which Harry recognised at once as another invitation to a lesson with Dumbledore. Then surprisingly, I was given one too, scheduled for the day after tomorrow.

"What's Dumbledore want from me?" I voiced aloud, "Did he finally get the paperwork through to the Ministry?" I thought, "When's yours?" I asked Harry. "Tonight," he told us, once he had unrolled it.

"Nice commentary last match!" said Ron to Luna as she took back the green onion, the toadstool, and the cat litter. Luna smiled vaguely. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?" she said.

"Everyone says I was dreadful." "No, I'm serious!" said Ron earnestly. "I can't remember enjoying commentary more! What is this, by the way?" he added. Holding the onionlike object up to eye level. "Oh, it's a Gurdyroot," she said, stuffing the cat litter and the toadstool back into her bag.

"You can keep it if you like, I've got a few of them. They're really excellent for warding off Gulping Plimpies." And she walked away, leaving Ron chortling, still clutching the Gurdyroot. I chuckled, "You should keep some of those on you Ron, I should probably do the same to be honest."

Hermione caught on next, letting out a little giggle, Harry and Ron looked a bit confused, Hermione explained. "Gurdyroot extract is a key ingredient for the antidote to Love Potions" Harry let out a dry chuckle and Ron held the root to him a little defensively.

"How do you know that off the top of your head?" he exclaimed. "Because I actually read the books I'm assigned, and I've started carrying antidotes on me, specifically for stuff I've been gotten with before." I said, pulling out some bezoars I nicked from Slughorn from my belt. "Constant Vigilance"

"You know, she's grown on me, Luna," he said, as they set off again for the Great Hall. "I know she's insane, but it's in a good way." I beamed at him, "See, I knew you'd like her eventually, she's genuinely a brilliant person."

We met Lavender Brown at the entrance to the great hall, she was standing at the foot of the marble staircase looking through the crowd for her Won-Won. "Hi," said Ron happily as we approached her, she smile at all of us and took his hand.

"C'mon," Harry muttered to us and we sped past, breakfast was had in high spirits, Ron was met with many pats on the back as he returned, he sat with Lavender and chatted away happily. We still weren't sure how all of this was meant to work.

His time had been split between his friends and his girlfriend recently. Hermione and Lavender where still a little awkward together, but hopefully it would all work itself out soon. I didn't feel like giving another speech.

After a run of the mill day where me and Hermione diligently did homework and Ron and Harry copied us, we were all finally caught up on our subjects. "Thanks a lot, Hermione," said Harry, giving her a hasty pat on the back as he checked his watch and saw that it was nearly eight o'clock.

"Thanks (Y/N), you were a big help too...oh you're welcome Harry, don't worry about it, you are my friend after all" I said sarcastically, he payed me no mind. Proving my point really. "Listen, I've got to hurry or I'll be late for Dumbledore..."

"Have fun, can't wait for another riveting anecdote from the Dark Prince's upbringing" I mused as Harry hurried out through the portrait hole and off to the headmaster's office. The next day, he came back and told us about Voldemort killing some old woman and pinning it on a house elf named Hokey, all for a shiny cup and a locket.

"Well, obviously that's horrible, but why the hell does it matter?" Harry admitted he had no clue and explained that Dumbledore said he could be putting more priority on getting the memory and that it was pivotal in defeating Voldemort.

Hermione seemed smug about this observation, Harry was still adamant that he couldn't find the solution he was looking for. I sighed, I swear talking to him was pointless sometimes, unless I mentioned Draco Malfoy or Ginny Weasley I might as well have been talking to Grawp in French.

Getting frustrated that he was ignoring the obvious solution that he has had since day one but ignored out of his ever growing need to impress Dumbledore I stood up and said "Ok, screw this!" I stormed out of the room towards Slughorns office.

I knew what I was looking for so finding it would be simple, I'm finding anything that even eluded to Horcruxes and ripping it out of his head. I knocked on his office door and he awkwardly let me come in.

"Come to liberate some more of my supplies, have you?" he asked in a tone that was both nervous and accusatory. "Not quite, unless you have some Polyjuice Potion to hand?"

He shook his head, "Afraid not my boy, curiously enough my stock of that particular potion has dwindled recently. I hope you don't mind me asking, but you were not the culprit where you?"

I stared at him and he shied away from my gaze, "Thank you for the confidence professor, poisoned anyone recently?" I said in my anger. "Anyway, I'm here for...Sleeping Draught" I said, hoping that I could catch his eyes as I asked.

Bbut he seemed to be purposely keeping his back turned to me and had been staring at his pictures of old Slug Club members since I walked in. "Curious. Why? If you do not mind me asking of course" he said, his voice even filled with some genuine concern.

I sighed, getting more and more uncomfortable with the conversation. "Well, usually my cat helps me sleep but she's...uhhh...got a cold." It was one of the weakest lies I've ever told and I'm sure Slughorn saw right through it.

In truth, Bones was in perfect health as always but it was the first potion I thought of, so I went with it. "It's a long story, I've needed them since I was a kid, kept having nightmares and stuff. Spooky voices in my head. It's all extremely dramatic."

I explained, still trying to circle round him to meet his eye line, but again he turned his head to examine a picture he had stared at about ten times already. "Yes, I imagine it would be hard for someone like you to sleep at night." He said absentmindedly, staring at the picture of an old Slytherin Quidditch team.

I was offended, "What's that supposed to mean!" He turned to my finally and held up his hands, "A Legilimens as powerful as yourself must have struggled to keep themselves in check at young age, voices in your head, trying not to enter the minds of others" he said, looking me in the eyes finally.

He knew what I was doing and was daring me to try, but I couldn't attempt it now, it was too late. I couldn't risk him destroying the memory. "I'm not all that powerful professor. Didn't even know about it until second year, only learned how to control it a bit the year after."

He scoffed "My boy, I wouldn't have invited you into the Slug Club if I didn't know that was a lie and you were being modest. You surpass Snape, Myself, even Dumbledore in your abilities." I sighed, "So I've been told, it's pretty much the only thing he thinks I'm good for."

For the first time since I met him, I heard genuine sympathy in Slughorn's voice. "Nonsense, you are a sharp boy and you work hard, Dumbledore is a fool not to see it" He smiled at me and said "Now, how about I whip you up some of that Sleeping Draught my boy?"

Watching him work was oddly therapeutic, it was almost entrancing, his entire process was fluid, he moved from one thing to another with no hesitation at all, a confidence with his station that only came with years of experience.

Within the space of a few minutes he had three sleeping draughts all of them were the perfect colour and consistency that was shown in the textbooks. He smiled as he passed me them and I couldn't help smiling back.

Then, steeling myself, I caved and asked him, outing myself and just hoping being blunt would help, "Professor, why are you hiding it? You know how important it is, so why not just give up the memory? Nobody can judge you for it. Why hide the past with a fake memory and lie to yourself?"

I expected him to shout, just like Harry had told me he did in the fake memory, to bellow at me in a rage and most likely kick me out of his office before I could do the one thing I came here to do, but he didn't.

He showed me the door, opening it, and leaning on it, gesturing for me to leave, I took a step outside and nodded sadly, not expecting an answer until I got one. "Because my boy, I need something to help me sleep at night too" With that he closed the door and left me to my thoughts.