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The Other Boy Who Lived by Kwan
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The Other Boy Who Lived

Kwan

"How do I look?"

"Like a watermelon."

Harry glared at Ginny Weasley as he attempted to fix his tie. The tie, however, had different plans on its mind - it refused to be crossed just right and it ended up looking like a huge lump on Harry's throat. The mirror was not helping his case as it muttered suggestions to "fluff up his hair" or "grin disarmingly."

"Also, you look deceivingly Slytherin!" Ginny quipped as she scrimmaged for an object in Ron's trunk.

"You told me that the green would bring out my eyes!"

"Which it does! Doesn't change the fact that you still look like a Malfoy spawn," Ginny's muffled voice said from underneath Ron's bed.

"Please don't mention that twit right now. I'm nervous enough as it is."

"There's nothing to be nervous about Harry. I'm sure your date will go quite swimmingly. Who knows? Maybe she'll even let you catalog her books!" Ginny continued to tease him.

"Ginny, can you please be serious for five seconds? I know it's hard for you, with your brain capacity as it is, but can you at least try?"

"Harry, you won't need to do anything. Just wing it, Hermione couldn't care less."

"I don't want to wing it. What if she thinks I'm dressed up too much?"

"You're not."

"What if something gets stuck in my hair?"

"It looks bad anyways."

"What if she wants to do more than buy books?"

"Then buy her something else."

"What if she wants to go to…Madame Puddifoot's?"

"Maybe when the world ends."

"What if I accidentally grab her boob?"

"Consider it good luck."

"What if take a sip of something and it ends up dribbling down the side of my mouth?"

"Just make sure it doesn't look like you know what."

"GINNY WEASLEY!"

"HARRY POTTER! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!"

Ginny finally stood up from under the bed and glared at a panicked Harry Potter.

"Hermione will like you just the way you are. She doesn't care about how you look or whether you embarrass yourself. Just act like you normally do and she'll like you just as much as she likes you now," Ginny reasoned.

"But I want her to like me more than that!" Harry whined as he continued to fix his tie.

"And that will come with time! For now, just be grateful you've found an opportunity to rip her away from my brother and Neville."

"What are you doing, anyway?" Harry asked Ginny as he attempted to pat his hair down.

"Nothing! Good luck! I have to go!" Ginny dashed by Harry before he could say another word. He did note, however, that she was holding something in her hands and had shielded it from Harry's view as she passed him.

Sighing, Harry dropped his hands to his sides and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair still stuck in odd directions and his tie did look a little too vibrant for his liking. Scrunching his nose, Harry attempted to smooth out the wrinkles on his robes while simultaneously reaching for a bottle of cologne on his drawer. He popped the cap and gave it a hesitant sniff, his eyes watering from the decidedly odorous smell. Spraying just a bit on his wrist, Harry leaned down to see if the smell was any better on his skin.

"I think I'll just leave that alone."

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"So I thought it was fascinating when the Professor mentioned the reason why wizards and witches tended to use wands to funnel their magical energy! I mean, I always had theories of my own, but none of the other DADA teachers have ever bothered touching on the subject. Professor Sheppard might have some weird teaching methods but I think I understand his method of teaching now. More of a trial by fire I think. A little Lupin but with a bit more urgency if you will," Hermione rattled on as she and Harry took the winding steps to Hogsmeade.

"I agree, the hands-on method has really helped me, at least," came Harry's rather truncated response in comparison to Hermione's tirade.

"Oh, no doubt Harry! You've shown marked improvement ever since your Third Year," Hermione paused for a perfunctory nod of humility, "You've done brilliantly."

"Thank you for bringing that up. Again," Harry's smile took the bite out of his words.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Hermione chuckled as she gave him a soft swat on the arm.

"By all means, refer to my crowning moment of humiliation as many times as you want."

"I'm really, really sorry!"

"I suppose I can forgive you for now."

Hermione gave another chuckle and turned around to fix the strap of her bag. Harry, meanwhile, turned the other way and exhaled deeply. Things were going better than anticipated so far. He had yet to trip over his own feet or slip up on his words. Not bad for the walk down to Hogsmeade.

As the pair weaved their way through the crowd, occasionally bumping into a stiff Auror or two, their shoulders would occasionally brush, causing Harry to grit his teeth as he fought to keep from reaching out and grasping her hand in his. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed as she headed straight for the book shop.

The pair discussed more inane topics as they traversed their way from aisle to aisle in the book shop. Once or twice, Hermione had to reach up on the shelf to inspect a particularly interesting book. Each time, her shirt would ride up just a sliver and expose a tiny bit of skin on her back. Harry had to stuff his fist in his mouth in order to stop the appreciative moan from escaping his mouth.

"Harry can you help me reach that one?"

Harry gladly reached up to retrieve the book, The Dark Tower, and thankfully blessed the fates above for the day so far. As he turned to give her the book, their fingers brushed lightly and Harry bit back a smile. Hermione thanked him with a pleasant laugh and moved onto the next aisle. Harry kept the mood pleasant as they glossed over some advanced potions text.

"You know, I'm glad that you take your studies seriously. Ron and Neville are so lackadaisical when it comes to that," Hermione commented.

"Well my Mom always pounded it into my head. BET on CPD," Harry grinned as she caught on.

"A brew, an elixir, a tincture, a concoction, a philter, and a draft!" they said in unison as they recounted the different types of potions. Laughing at their own incredulity, they proceeded to make their way to the front counter as Hermione stacked her purchases in alphabetical order.

As they were approaching the cashier, however, Harry realized the implications of Hermione's purchase. The self-confessed date would soon come to a rather short end. Harry watched as Hermione, seemingly in slow motion, handed the cashier a couple of Galleons. Desperate to prolong their date, Harry quickly came to Hermione's side.

"Hermione! I was wondering if you'd like to go to Three Broomsticks and grab a drink or anything else for that matter…"

Harry rushed out his words before his overwhelming conscience could cause him to chicken out. The cashier raised an eyebrow and gave him a smirk. Red in the face but resolute, Harry kept his eyes trained on a now flustered Hermione.

"Um, I'm sorry Harry but I'm supposed to meet Neville and Ron in a little bit," Hermione stammered.

"That's okay with me! We can meet them at Three Broomsticks."

Hermione looked absolutely crestfallen as she replied, "I'm sorry Harry but we're going to meet a couple of people in private."

Harry's face fell as he watched Hermione fidget while the cashier tried to hand Hermione a couple of Knuts in change.

"Well, okay," Harry muttered. Hermione looked to be in extreme pain as she tried to place the books in her bag, all the while apologizing profusely.

"It's just that we had it planned a while ago and don't take it to mean as I don't enjoy your company because I do and I appreciated you helping me pick out books but I promised them I would go with them and…" Hermione trailed off as Harry held a hand up for her to stop.

"It's okay Hermione," Harry said, mostly to exit the awkward situation they were in, "I'll see you back at school."

Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something but held back. Apologizing again, Hermione quickly exited the book store and left a crestfallen Harry with the cashier.

"If it helps any, I didn't think she was particularly a looker," the cashier offered.

Harry waved his wand at the front book shelf. The books came cascading down in a jumbled pile, flying into all corners of the book shop.

"Oops. Don't quite have a handle on that spell yet. Guess you'll have to clean that up."

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Harry recollected that the Trio would be meeting up with a pair called 'Padfoot and Moony.' Though he knew to some extent that he should not have eavesdropped on their conversation the other night, much less follow up on what he heard, Harry could not help himself and pulled up the hood of his jacket in a rather weak attempt to disguise himself. Thankfully, a steady drizzle had started to fall upon the sleepy town which let Harry blend right in to the environment. Harry also waved his wand in front of his face and cast a spell that would lessen the reflection of light off of his glasses.

No point in sneaking around somewhere if you're just going to get caught like that.

His father's warning rang clear in his head. During the summer, James Potter had given his son a crash course in evasion as well as combat. There were occasions in which escaping the enemy served to be a much better solution than fighting him. At least, that's what his Dad always said. Harry did not quite believe in running away to fight.

Keeping his eyes glued to the front door of Three Broomsticks, Harry bided his time until the Trio reappeared, quite some time after Hermione entered the establishment. Although there was a twinge of anger when he saw Hermione enter the place he suggested (the suggestion she declined), he quickly brushed it off as he stood up from his bench and followed the Trio a couple of paces behind. Weaving through the crowd, he could see Hermione arguing with Ron as they headed away from the main hub of the village.

The crowd was thinning out, but Harry kept his cool and slid into a parallel alley, making sure to keep enough of a distance behind the arguing Trio to remain undetected, but close enough so he would not lose them. He strained his ears to key in on their argument, but it was to no avail - they were simply too far away. Thinking quickly, Harry cast a Supersensory charm on his ears. A barrage of noises assaulted his ears until he finally keyed on the sound of Hermione's familiar voice.

"What's your problem, Hermione?"

"Nothing Ron! I just … and … so would you … alright?"

"You've just been … have to … Harry."

"Cut it out, I'm sure … so don't say anymore to her Ron."

"Alright, sheesh!"

Harry only caught snippets of the conversation as he had yet to master the charm that his father had taught him. Grunting in frustration, Harry sped up his pace to catch up to the Trio as they began to enter the forest leading to the Shrieking Shack. He carefully slid from tree to tree, trying desperately to keep himself out of their view. Offhandedly, he wondered why the Trio were entering a site as inhospitable and inaccessible as the Shrieking Shack.

The three of them wove in between trees, their footsteps steady and sure, as if they had tread this path before. Harry noticed that they were eventually heading back into the direction of the castle. Carefully avoiding a series of branches and twigs, Harry tugged his hood tighter around his head and continued to follow the Trio. Harry noted with increasing apprehension that they were quickly approaching the infamous Whomping Willow.

Watching as Neville fished a long stick from underneath a rock; Harry gasped aloud as Neville reached out and tapped a knot on the Whomping Willow causing the tree to freeze in place. Neville's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the trees at the edge of the forest. Harry held his breath, squeezing his body as thinly as possible behind the large trunk of a cooperating tree.

"Neville, what is it?" asked Hermione.

"I thought I heard someone."

There was a pause that lasted for what seemed like an eternity as Harry literally shut his eyes and willed Neville to turn away. Finally, there was a slight shuffle as he heard voices again.

"Neville, it's just the trees. Can we get a move on? This place creeps me out even more than Snape!" Ron said.

"Alright."

Harry did not dare turn around after Neville's acquiesce, for he feared that the Trio was simply waiting for him to come out from behind the tree. After a few painstaking minutes and no indication that the Trio remained at the base of the Willow, Harry took a tiny peek out from behind his tree and saw no one around. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry carefully made his way to the base of the Willow, examining the now active Whomping Willow. He repeated Neville's actions and found, to his relief, that the Willow calmed itself once more. Only when he was at the base of the Willow did Harry see a slight entrance at the trunk of the tree. Taking a deep breath, Harry crouched and made his way into the Whomping Willow.

Bending low to avoid the dilapidated, wooden beams, Harry marveled that he was actually able to follow the Trio into the Willow. Stepping over a series of cobwebs and branches, Harry carefully made his way onto more wooden ground, noting that this tunnel was leading him into some sort of establishment. After a couple minutes of crouched walking, Harry could hear faint voices and a light at the end of the tunnel.

Carefully taking light steps, Harry maneuvered himself behind a rather dinged wall and looked through a small crack into the other room to see Neville pacing in front of Ron, Hermione and to his great surprise Professor Lupin and another character he could not quite identify.

"I mean what do you think these dreams mean? There has to be a reason they're getting into my head," Neville paced in frustration, wearing a hole into the already worn carpet.

"Neville, it's important that you learn to close your mind! It's not safe for you to have that connection with You-Know-Who," Professor Lupin implored.

"I know, I know, I just know that there's something important about this one," Neville continued to pace.

Professor Lupin and the other raggedy character exchanged a glance that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the people in the shack. Harry moved carefully so he could improve his view through the little sliver in the wall and focused his attention on that seemingly familiar raggedy character.

"What is it, Sirius?" Hermione asked.

"There is…something," Sirius said slowly.

"Sirius…" Professor Lupin said in a cautionary tone.

Harry bit back a gasp upon the realization that the raggedy character was Sirius Black. Harry knew that he had recognized him from somewhere, but it was not until Hermione said his name that Harry made the connection of the man sitting not ten feet away from him, and the man in the 'Wanted' posters not two years ago. It was the same Sirius Black who was placed in the prison Azkaban for the torture and murder of Peter Pettigrew. Harry knew that Peter had been his parent's Secret Keeper during You-Know-Who's last reign.

The story his parents had told him when Sirius Black first escaped Azkaban was that Sirius turned out to be a double agent and brought Pettigrew to You-Know-Who to reveal the Potter's location. Pettigrew had somehow escaped them but was found by Black rather quickly in a crowded Muggle area. Black had killed him in public, incinerating his body to nothing more than a finger. Refusing to even talk to him, Harry's parents did not answer as Sirius Black plead for them to hear his explanation as he was sent to Azkaban and imprisoned in contained cell for life until his mysterious escape. Gripping his wand tightly, Harry grew angry as he watched the people he deemed to be his "friends" interact with an escaped convict.

"Voldemort - sorry Ron - is looking for something," Sirius began, "He's looking for a weapon he did not have last time."

Harry swore that Sirius glanced directly at him as he explained himself to the Trio. Momentarily removing himself from the improvised peep hole, Harry took a deep breath and steadied himself.

"And it's located in the Ministry isn't it?" Neville leaned forward in excitement.

"Yes."

"Then why don't we get it?" Neville asked.

"It doesn't work that way Neville," Sirius patiently explained, "Just know that we have people watching and guarding it all the time."

"Like my Dad?" Ron interjected.

"Yes, Ron, your father has been taking turns watching over it," Lupin replied.

"So why should I close the connection with You-Know-Who? I could tell you if he was up to something!"

"Because it works both ways Neville! He can see into your mind as well and it is imperative you close that connection," Sirius implored yet again. Neville did not have a rebuttal at that statement.

"So it's safe then? We don't need to worry about it," Hermione asked Sirius as her eyes flitted between him and Neville.

"Do not dare worry about it. We have it completely under control," Lupin looked pointedly at Neville.

Neville stood in silence, all eyes trained on him, as he seemingly gathered his thoughts. Stroking his chin in deep thought, Neville finally glanced up and gave Sirius an exasperated sigh.

"Okay, fine, I'll leave it alone and try to close the connection," Neville said, without much conviction.

"Good. Also, keep an eye on your classmates," Sirius said as he rose from the box he sat on.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because you need to know who you can trust."

"I think we've got that under control," Neville nodded.

"Really? Because one of them is in here right now," Sirius quickly pointed his wand right at Harry's hiding place.

Harry felt his body freeze and his arms snap to his side. Without the ability to move his limbs, gravity took over and Harry landed on the wooden floor below with a perfunctory plunk. Sirius quickly strode over to him and pointed his wand at his remote form.

"Harry Potter."

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Lucius Malfoy strode through his Manor with elegant, unhurried strides. It was important to always keep one's self dignified, lest one becomes such unworthy creatures - like Muggles. Strictly abiding by this philosophy, Lucius Malfoy kept his pace calm, even though he was late to a meeting with the Dark Lord. He knew he was likely to receive a punishment of some kind, but Lucius Malfoy refused to give up his pride and honor.

He turned towards the secret passage that led to the room the Dark Lord frequented when he was keen to discuss things with his top aides. He entered the chamber and bowed low to the Dark Lord, making sure his elegant nose touched the stone, cold floor.

"You're late, Lucius."

"My apologies, my Lord."

"Your reason?"

"My wife, my Lord."

"Be grateful I am in a jovial mood, Lucius, or else I would be forced to rid you of that nuisance you call your wife."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"How is the situation at the Ministry?"

"Progressing well, we have managed to place one of the Unspeakables under an Imperius curse, and it's only a matter of time before we gain entrance."

"Good. Rise, Lucius."

Lucius Malfoy picked his nose up off the floor but kept his head bowed as he straightened his back into a stiff position. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the fat, balding form of Peter Pettigrew.

"Peter, bring me the map," hissed the Dark Lord.

Malfoy watched the pathetic excuse of a wizard gather several pieces of rolled parchment from an adjacent desk and hand it to the Dark Lord. Malfoy internally questioned the merit of keeping the squib-like Pettigrew around but he dared not air his concerns around the Dark Lord.

"I have good news, Lucius."

"Excellent, my Lord."

"I believe I have found its location."

"Really?"

Lucius Malfoy made the mistake of snapping his head up and meeting the Dark Lord's eyes. Instantly, he was assaulted by an attack on his mind, so powerful it brought Malfoy to his knees. Taking great care not to make any sound to reveal his pain, Malfoy grit his teeth and rode out the mental assault.

"Yes, Lucius, I have found it."

"That is amazing news, my Lord," Malfoy staggered to his feet, careful not to make his mistake again.

"Indeed. I have circled its location on the map. Form a team and investigate the area. Report back to me soon."

"Yes, my Lord," Malfoy took the maps that Voldemort levitated towards him and turned around to exit the room - but not before he caught the smirking face of Peter Pettigrew.

"Lucius?"

"My Lord?"

"Do take care of your wife."

"Yes, my Lord."

Lucius Malfoy exited the room and immediately opened the roll of parchment in his hand. His eyes widened at the location circled on the detailed map. If the Dark Lord was correct about the location encircled on the map, Malfoy knew that the time of reckoning would be coming soon. A shiver of fear and excitement tore through his body as he rolled up the parchment, and quickly sought through his mind for reliable agents out in the field to investigate this matter.