Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness	By : Ladygreychaton Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 37460 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, this is just for fun, with no intentions of profit.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
[[Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made. Several hints to Harry Potter books, but again belong to J.K. Rowling. Any further things belong to their original owners, aside from original characters. Used with no intention of profit!

Quotes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Pottermore, Wikia, hints at other books, or other things I may have forgotten, none of them belong to me! ]]

((The promised second chapter! Hope you like it ~ ))

The day of the train ride, the 1st of September had been a Sunday, making today a Monday Harry recalled. That would be important when it came to scanning the timetable, looking into where to go and ensuring what classes were next.

Professor Snape had reached Crabbe, who flocked Draco on one side, and was proceding to try and convince the boy that his food could wait, but that his classes would not. The rather harsh look he sent the bulky boy seemed to quiet his noisy chomping mixed in with the strange sort of squeals that Harry had only ever associated with a hog...

However, once the schedule was in hand, Draco was next. The blond quietly accepted his own with a small smile and a nod at the dark Professor, leaving him to flick his wand and pass two more across the table to Greengrass and Bulstrode. The girls quietly thanked the Head of Slytherin, and then it was Harry's turn.

Professor Snape seemed to stare down his nose at Harry for a moment, his expression hard. His eyes were sharp, black and unblinking. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it, but his own green met the other without hesitation or fear, refusing to be cowed. Seconds passed, then a long potion's stained hand moved to pass his schedule to him.

"Will that be all, Mr. Potter-Black?" Professor Snape's low voice asked, speaking in a low and careful drawl.

The boy wizard flicked his gaze over the timetable, scanning the parchment's contents for something he didn't understand and might need explaining. He would have school Monday through Saturday, with four periods minus the midnight Astrology class, which was always held on Wednesday. It was set up in an easy to read layout, and even included which house he would be sharing that timeslot with. Sundays were off, either for his own time, to spend with friends, studying, or to catch up on school work or homework.

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir, thank you."

The Head of Slytherin nodded curtly, his eyes sharp before he moved swiftly away, flicking schedules with succinct precision into waiting hands. Now and again he would pause, waiting for a young student to clarify if they needed anything from him before moving on down the table, a finely tuned person who ran on a tight ship.

But Harry could hardly find a fault in him, for although he seemed stern and cold, he had yet to show anything but the utmost care. Diaboli and Kali often whispered that magic was a living thing, not something to toy with. A small mistake could blow up in your face, and this Professor was a Master of his art. The green-eyed tell, for though the dark man wore only black, he was surrounded in the darkest cobalt blue. His magical aura was fanned out to bright royal blue edges that hinted at violet around the tips, smoldering like flames.

For someone to have such a large powerbase, such extreme magical energy... and to be so still, so silent and controlled? Harry was willing to listen to him, to hear him out until proven otherwise. That sort of thing could be taught to others, if you were an apt pupil, which he intended to be.

"History of Magic first thing in the morning?" Draco complained, scowling at his timetable and nibbling around the edge of a slice of toast.

Blaise shrugged, forking a small portion of scrambled eggs, not seeming to have eaten much. "It can't be all bad, we could always do a self-study and spent that time getting to know our classmates... writing our Societal Obligatory letters, or sending word home. There's plenty to do, really, if it's as terrible as they say," the golden-eyed boy advised with a slanted look at the two of them.

Harry tried to recall anything he'd been advised about in History of Magic, scanning his memory for a moment.

"Ah! That's right, it's taught by a ghost, one who prefers to only discuss the Goblin Wars extensively. Despite the fact that we'll be tested on history as a whole, leaving many students bereft. There's also the fact that he tends to drone on a bit in a monotonous manner, putting various well-meaning students to sleep, despite their attempts otherwise," Harry recited, causing Blaise to look at him in that calculating manner once more and Draco to give him a strange sort of stare.

"...I also know that many older students happen to sell notes to his Goblin speeches if you're willing to pay out, mostly the older Ravenclaws. They don't do it in the open, and you have to be careful... I do recall there was a bit of a password, but it leaves you a great deal of time for studying actual History and the like," Harry finished, ducking his head in embarrassment, aware that both his friends were watching him.

"...Where do you hear these things?" Draco finally said.

Blaise nodded, his almond-shaped eyes closed to half-lidded slits, though he was smiling.

"My father never mentioned this, and I've been given tons of tips on the ins and outs of Hogwarts! I... really, how do you know this, Harry?" The blond sounded positively petulant, a bit of a whine edging into his voice by now.

Blaise began to laugh, and Harry's shoulders loosened. He hadn't even realized he was tensing up, but sure enough, the muscles were taut and stiff. With the sound of them teasing and laughing, they rolled and shifted down, easing into a comfortable pose.

The dark boy snickered, his mouth drawn up into a wicked sort of grin. "Looks like Harry here was put in Slytherin for a reason, after all. Do you happen to remember the password, mate? I'd rather spend my History of Magic class studying and actually working productively... those notes could ensure that all of us pass."

Green eyes moved to grey with slivers of pewter, then back to the strange amber-gold. Both sets seemed... warm, friendly and open. After a moment, he nodded.

"It has to do with a riddle... I'll work with them later, perhaps after lunch. For now, let's get to class. Attendance is still mandatory, after all," he shrugged and hefted his bag onto his shoulder easily, swinging his legs over the bench. Harry paused, glancing at the other two, he grinned. "You do realize I'm just getting you in, I'm not paying for your Notes, right? That's up to you two."

With that, he moved off, leaving the two boys to trail after him. Blaise laughing, Draco in outrage at being accused of being cheap. Crabbe and Goyle following, clutching at breakfast foods and attempting to take as many as possible with them. It felt... good.

The History of Magic classroom was located on the first floor, and though none of the boys were relying on a Prefect as a guide, they had Harry. Though he bluffed his way on how he knew how to get around, sure enough they move in a sure and direct course, arriving promptly in front of the door.

They all moved in, seeing no reason not to, and made themselves at home, choosing to sit together. Crabbe and Goyle were instructed to sit behind them, nearest the door, and did so without complaint, tucking into the rest of their breakfast. After all, so far they hadn't been lead astray by the three, in fact they had shown up to class on time with enough to spare to finish their hoard.

Zabini and Malfoy were laying out their supplies while Harry took out his quill sharpener, admiring the sharp edge of the scooping blade for a moment. A side glance showed the other two busy discussing what sort of pressed parchment to use on the Apology letters, or the color of ink. Draco was set on using green ink, the color of Slytherin, and wanted to find the right shade ivory or eggshell to match.

Blaise disagreed, arguing that although they were Slytherins and rightly should represent, Apology notes were primarily written in blue. Tradition should not be broken, and it was something of importance to follow, else it might be taken as a slight. He also continued that though eggshell was lovely, it was too cool, and wouldn't stand out against the blue ink. Naturally the ivory's crisp coloring would be the preferred choice of parchment for an Apology when sending a message to those that had been bumped from the Slytherin table this morning. They had risen in High Society standing, they couldn't afford anything but careful attention to every detail.

Somehow, it was soothing to listen to the two purebloods bicker. But the green-eyed wizard carefully tuned them out to a quiet murmur in the background, gathering his attention to his Kin, feeling the stirring in the very corners of the room.

Kali was shifting, and her front set of legs were spread out, unfolding before her, mandibles rubbing together in a quiet hiss. "What is it you wish to make, child mine?" Came her question, reverberating down his mindscape and filling him with the sensation of her curiosity.

Harry shifted, uncertain if he wanted to speak aloud in front of the other two, despite the fact that now they knew. Carefully, he tried to pluck the string of her mind web, sending images and feelings back through it, but it became a tangled snarl. The bundle of thoughts were caught, looking frazzled like wool that had been snagged through various bushes and briar.

Kali moved down her 'web', the long hairs on her many legs aiding her large body. When she got to the snare, she sighed, grasping it with her many limbs and twirling it about. Gradually, it became smaller, leaving only small lumps. Occasionally, it would stubbornly stick, and the False widow would plant her fangs into the silken infused memories, prying free the images herself. Smaller and smaller, whittling away at the snag on the edge of the mindscape until it was smooth once more.

Minutes had passed in silence, though it felt like longer, Harry straining to consider a way to perfect this silent technique of messaging.

Kali, the matriarch of their Kin, cleared her throat, snagging his attention instantly.

"Am I to understand that you wish to carve a rune-set into this particular area... Something inconspicuous, something that will only charge in your presence? Allowing you to do as you like in this particular class?" The spider sounded amused now, siphoning through the thoughts carefully, jumbled as they were.

Harry attempted a nod, hoping he was clear.

"That is a very complex runeset... something I am not sure you can complete at this time, my child. You have the power, sweetKin, of that I have no doubt. But to avoid having it conflict with other magical signatures, tying it purely to your own? That's a bit advanced for your current level... I'm afraid beyond you."

She sounded disappointed at having to admit this, and brushed across his mindscape soothingly, as though to comfort him.

Harry sighed, and moved to press again with another silent question only to be interrupted.

"Stop! Slowly now.... focus, one at a time. Focus clearly on what you're thinking of. One particular image or thought. Connect it to an emotion. Think of all the details you want to add, be in that image, aware of all of it. Then, slowly imagine feeding it through the eye of a needle, or a tube. One at a time, feed it through. Slowly. Focus on it, but don't force it. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, relax. Gently now, nice and slow... that's it..."

Harry followed Kali's instructions carefully, working diligently to grasp the image and all the details of it, the emotion behind it--- before threading it through. Sending it along with only a few stumbles this time, trying to get his point across to the arachnid.

Carefully, Kali devoured the message, finding it less jumbled, if a bit simplistic still. Childlike in it's pondering, but a message nonetheless. It was progress.

"A rune to keep others from noticing anything abnormal, anything other than you studying? I... I suppose that's simple enough. It won't work on everyone, I warn you. Some of the teachers, the powerful students, especially the older ones... there are risks, my Kin," Kali cautioned him, chittering quietly.

Biting his lip, Harry nodded again. He understood that it wasn't perfect, and he wasn't at a level to reach what he had originally intended, but perhaps he could achieve this much. At the very least, he could work on it, and he now had a manner of pursuing speech with his Kin.

Kali hummed in thought, and Harry felt the hairs raise all over his arms and shoulders in response. Somehow, it always felt like she was connected to him.

"A 'Notice Me Not' is on the Leaky Cauldron for Muggles, you know," The False Widow stated conversationally, plucking her web like the strings of a harp in perfect rhythm. "But typically, that does not work on Wizardkind. How do we circumvent that, child mine?"

Harry wasn't sure, but he noted that somehow in all this, Blaise and Draco had ceased their debate and were staring in interest at him. Blushing, he curiously turned his attention to them, still fondling his quill cutter.

"Do either of you know of a way to make or... alter a spell that originally works on one person to target another?" Harry paused. "Such as the 'Notice Me Not' incantation that's over the Leaky... couldn't that be altered to target others? Rarely, I'm aware that it works on wizards, but it would be odd if we didn't appear to be here at all..."

Harry shifted his grip on the handle, smoothing his gloved hands up and down. "The original premise is to make people think there's nothing to notice at all, no one or nothing. But isn't there a way to alter it so that... they think there's nothing different? That you're just a part of the crowd, or average?"

Draco gaped for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose, bit advanced, really. We don't get into spell creation for at least a good two or three years, Harry. I wouldn't know where to begin!"

Blaise nodded, looking interested, but rather still for several moments before speaking. "An interesting project, but you cannot expect to be good at everything already. It's our first day, Harry... we'll look into it later."

Harry couldn't help the sinking sensation of disappointment. They didn't have any knowledge on the topic either. While really, it had been silly to hope, his own determination had been set on it. Or was it a sense of preservation and paranoia? Either way, he was now left with no answer to his quandary.

Kali embraced him, and the feeling of his Kin around him increased his confidence, making the beating in his chest soothe to a slow and steady rate. Calmly, Harry took his quill cutter, the sharp tip of the blade pointing to his desk. Slowly, the wizardchild rolled the handle between his palms, drilling the blade into the wood. Much like one would start a fire, it began to crudely create a small tunnel in the desk, shavings chipping off the old varnish.

When it had reached a level deemed adequate, the green-eyed boy pulled the quill-sharpener from the hole, blowing off the debris as he brought the tool to his lips. It scattered about, leaving only the blade and small impression that it had created. With precise movements, Harry turned his left hand palm upwards, eyeing the two shocked wizards.

"Do you intend to offer blood, or be excluded?" came his soft murmur, a whisper that barely carried in the empty classroom.

As soon as the question had been delivered, the quill cutter was pressing into the soft pad of his third finger--- often thought to be the wand finger for it's length and connection to magic. The pressing continued, eventually causing skin and tissue to give way, blood blossoming in brilliant red, dribbling down and being caught in the spoon-like shape of the quill cutter. Diligently, the red droplet was poured from the tool into the desk--- leaving Harry to look expectantly at the two silent boys.

"Well?" He asked finally.

Blaise smiled slowly, his quill already in hand, and leaned over the green-eyed wizard. Pressing his own quill-cutter into his third finger, he added his blood to the desk.

They both turned expectantly to Draco, then, who was fiddling with the blade of his own tool.

"Really, you know it's illegal to use blood in magic, even familial magic," Draco muttered nervously, glancing around. "My... that is, my family... we've lots of spells... but we're not allowed..."

With a sigh, the blond pricked his finger and held it over the small impression in the desk.

"Really, suppose I ought to just go with it... though, if we're caught, I'm Confounded and... bloody hell, does anyone know a healing spell?" Draco whined.

Blaise laughed, seeming thoroughly amused. After all, it was a rather Malfoy-like thing to say, from what he'd observed of their reputation and letters. The dark boy moved his wand to fix the other's finger, a quick set of 'Episkeys' and their skin was sealing itself over with a strange hot-cold sensation. When Blaise turned to Harry, however, he found the skin of his finger had closed without his or magical help. Silently, he held his wand, glancing at the desk.

"Now what, may I ask?" He quipped, raising an eyebrow. The eleven year old appeared to be interested, but also waiting, wanting to see the effect of their leavings.

Harry considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Now, we have to... to charge it. A center piece, something to ground it, and we'll charge it. Then, it should work, however simplistic it is." Chewing his lip, the young would-be savior of Slytherin considered his options carefully. "If we play this carefully, it won't hold up to extreme scrutiny... or very far--- perhaps to a small perimeter? So we'd have to keep things to the desk, and hope that we have warning that people would notice, those that are sharp."

Harry shrugged, lifting his shoulders up and down in a rolling motion. "The Professors, maybe... they'd notice. A few of the more powerful students, or an upper year... but other than that? As long as we always sat here and charged it... we might, just might have a way of having our own hidden study corner."

Draco huffed a little, glancing off to the side where the entrance was. They were a little away from the door, and out of the way. Crabbe and Goyle would easily block them from most sight for now, but they couldn't always depend on that, could they?

"That... sounds too good to be true! To be able to have a free study period... as long as we're careful..." The blond shook his head, looking stern, his brows furrowed. "If it were that easy, I'm sure loads of students would have done it by now, wouldn't they?"

"Who's to say they haven't?" Blaise asked quietly. "Maybe they haven't been caught... or maybe they have, and they just don't talk about it. Magic is treasured, as are experiments in Hogwarts, provided they're educational and don't endanger lives or break too many rules." His eyes were positively glowing now, and he seemed like the idea had caught well with him.

Draco had turned to gape at the other boy, looking positively lost and confused at the face of both of them. They weren't exactly 'close', but he'd have liked to say they were on their way to becoming friends--- and he very much didn't want to argue with either of them. Their enthusiasm was bright, and he was stumbling, trying to be the voice of reason without losing their trust.

Harry seemed to have noticed this unease, for his fingers reached across the table, and he smiled. "Listen, Draco," he whispered, catching his attention. "I'm not trying to get us in trouble. I'm not saying we'll practice terrible things... just work on extra things, or work on things we might not have time for... Like those Apology Letters, or reading up on the notes I plan to get from Ravenclaw."

Slowly, carefully he tried to reason with the blond, not wanting to make him skittish. Diaboli's words were like smoke in his mind, dancing in his consciousness. He needed them to be cooperative. He needed a backing, he needed them on his side. Soothe, gently now, gently. Don't rush this, don't scare them.

Draco was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Well, I suppose I already did give my blood... no point in backing out now, right?" He chuffed a bit, then scoweld. "What are we using as a grounding piece for this, then?"

The green-eyed boy grinned, aware that he had won the battle. Beside him, Blaise watched with something akin to shrewd and sharp amusement, amber eyes alight. Those eyes had not missed the way the Malfoy heir had been coerced.

"Well, I was thinking...."

For a moment, the wizard child considered explaining his plans to them, motioning with gloved hands to the blood-filled gouge in the desk. But the clock was ticking, and soon students would begin to trickle in. His eyes glanced at about slowly, searching for the others he felt in the room with them.

Slowly, and with building confidence, he opened his mouth and let out a small chattering hiss, his teeth and lips clicking together. It was a low sound, and the hairs on Blaise and Draco's arms and neck rose, shivering at the sensation.

Answering the call, two large and rather bristle-bodied spiders began to climb out of the cracks of the walls in the room, though several more peeked out. The two made their way the desk, their limbs shifting their large greyish abdomens till they were upright on top of the desk. One stopping in front of each gloved hand, the arachnids waited before him, while the green-eyed child smiled. If Blaise hadn't known any better, he would've though Harry was tempted to pet them.

Each seemed to sway, and barely noticeable movements could be made out--- the brushing of their mandibles, almost as though they were speaking. Occasionally it would be followed with several legs moving, or a tilt, stretching or spinning to one side, but it seemed for all sense and purposes to be a conversation. Drooping down or bobbing up, they skittered closer to Harry after a moment, listening to the strange noises he made, or simply watching his face. Whatever had passed between them had likely gone well, as Harry was beaming happily now and spreading his fingers wide, gesturing to the indent and then holding out his hands to each spider.

This seemed to excite them, as far as the watching boys could tell, but they were hardly experts on the habits of spiders. For all they knew, the spiders could have been worked into an angry frenzy! But Harry's relaxed and content face seemed to be a good sign, and they watched transfixed as the spiders seemed to shoot across and latch onto his fingertips.

Greedily, they bit down, looking like bizarre hooks, dangling from his index fingers. The green-eyed child made no noise, no sign of discomfort. Instead, he soothingly hissed at them, crooning as they fed from his fingertips, holding ever-so-still. Draco made a sound as though he wanted to stop him, but a look from Blaise had him holding still in his seat.

After several seconds of silence, in which Draco could've sworn his heartbeat was loud enough to be heard in the classroom, the spider's seem to have gathered their fill. Detached from his fingerpads, they stumbled back as though drunk, feebly heading towards the direction of the groove in the wood. In earnest, they fell upon the blood of the wizard children, circling it in this unusual pattern of feeding and dancing. It was as though they couldn't hold still while they ate--- spinning, spinning while they swallowed down the red droplets.

Draco felt sick, but there was a tugging in him, and his hairs were rising on his skin, warning him. Something more was going on, more than spiders drinking blood. His horrified eyes met amber, and noted the sharp awareness that burned there--- Blaise knew it as well.

"They're ready," Harry interrupted excitedly, looking rather happy.

Draco jumped a little, but nodded. Clutching his wand, he looked between his two housemates--- it was now or never, afterall.

"What do I do?" The blond asked.

Harry beamed. "You have to charge it, we all have to. On the count of three, we'll all press our wands down into the wood and just... feel the magic, let it go. Let it flow through your wand. Like..." He thought for a moment. "Like when your wand chose you. Just your magic, alright? That's all it needs."

Blaise arched a brow, but said nothing, nodding. He appeared to be thinking, but his wand was held at the ready, a firm but comfortable grip in his long fingers.

Draco was holding his wand in a tight grip, his knuckles turning white. Determined to finish this, he nodded as well. After all, it didn't sound that hard, or that weird after this point. Surely he could do that much...

Harry breathed in and out, and aloud he began a slow count. "1.... 2... 3....."

On the number three, they all pushed their wands to the center desk, pushing out with their emotions, thinking of when their hand had first brushed against their wands. Bright light, magical energy and force of emotion began to pour into the blood, the spiders, and the indent into the table. The spiders hissed, crooning softly, the chatter rising in volume before dying down. The light seemed to encompass the desk for a moment, a small three by five foot bubble before dissipating.

As soon as it had faded, Draco jerked back, Blaise shifting back hesitatingly in his seat. A quick glance at the center desk showed them their efforts had been a success however--- where Harry had carved the hole, where he had poured their blood... the place of the spinning spider dance...

It was now engraved with a red carving of two spiders, their legs entwined at the center, one facing up, one facing down. There was no groove, there was no blood.

Harry was grinning rather madly, looking thoroughly happy with himself, and tracing the symbol with the sort of reverent fondness one might expect from seeing a masterpiece.

"They'll protect it, the best they can," he whispered quietly, seemingly caught up in the moment. His eyes were trained on the desk, still refusing to lift his fingertips from the engraving as he spoke.

"I think it'll be a small area to work with... just a couple feet above and a couple wide. It's not a 'Notice Me Not', but more of a 'Rune'd Glamour', but it's more than I was expecting, really. We'll have to experiment to find out how much their limit is, but I wouldn't push them. Especially not in the beginning, alright?"

Draco's mouth was dry, and the words wouldn't come. He found himself nodding despite himself. A part of his mind was screaming, whispering that a predator was in front of him. Somehow, this person was far superior, far more dangerous than he had expected. But they had his allegiance, his family's future. The Black and Malfoy future was resting in front of him. This was the boy who had defeated the Dark Lord, after all. A shudder passed through him at the thought.

His eyes sought out the Zabini child's, wondering if somehow he would find comfort there.

But sadly, he only noted a zealous sort of fever--- Blaise seemed to look at Harry with the kind of awe and fascination that the green-eyed child was giving the engraved desk. He would find no solace there. Dimly, he hoped that he could preserve his family blood and honor. To make it out of this intact.

History of Magic went off without a hitch after that. The Hufflepuffs trickled into the class, chattering quietly to one another. Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones shared a desk in front of the boys, and proved to be amusing enough when the boys weren't concentrating on their Apology Letters. Professor Binns turned out to be a ghost, but the only thrilling part of his lecture was his entrance--- to which he glided through the chalk board, seemingly without regard or notice. The rest of the lesson was spent in such a drone that heads began to nod within mere minutes.

Draco, Harry, and Blaise stayed awake, carefully scratching their quills over parchment. Ignoring their Professor, they managed to spend the next hour setting up time for their schedules, going over what they needed to do. When that was through, they worked on their Letters; letters home, letters to the upperclassmen, and selecting gift baskets from catalogs that would be appropriate for the situation--- that is to say, not overdone, but with the right amount of social niceties. They even had time to pen short details for the notes attached to each gift basket, making it seem more personal, and less cold.

All in all, it was a good 'study session' spent under the ignorant care of one Cuthbert Binns, 4F Professor of History of Magic. But then, he hardly paid attention to call role, let alone if one was awake at the end. How was he to know that three of his students had already hoodwinked the system?

The next class on their schedule, and thus agenda, was Potions. It was taught by their Head of House, the lesson shared with the Gryffindors which often soured Professor Snape's mood, they'd heard say. But the boys were eager regardless, intent on finding out just how the lesson would proceed.

After all, the art of Potions was an important part of magic. It lead to many fields--- from the Healing Arts and Mediwizards, to Battle Magics like the Aurors or Hit Wizards. It was the very foothold in Alchemy, and even had grounds in being a Spellcrafter or Runemaster. Yes, there were fields that didn't require advancement in Potions. A Ward Master or Cursebreaker only required fourth or fifth year level Potions to get by, after all, and that was still a highly respected position. An Animator, someone who needed advanced Mastery in both Transfiguration and Charms, to get them to work in complete harmony, still had to pass their fifth year in Potions. But there were many positions that simply begged for the proper credentials, and an intelligent witch or wizard would be aware of this. They would work their hardest to reach the top of their class in the core magics : Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense against the Dark Arts.

Understanding theory, breaking apart spells and adding in things like Numerology or Runes was considered well-looked upon. Especially if you needed or wanted to make your own spells, whatever your profession. It allowed you a better grasp of magic, and those in tune with themselves and their tool rarely did wrong.

Overall, their Hogwarts stay was to be an important one, and their next class was a core class. Harry could hardly wait.

((Oh my, but this one was fun to write. Please try to understand, this is easily broken/seen through. It's hardly anything more than a glamour really... but we're already breaking rules, aren't we? Heh. ))
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Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness