A/N: Compared to my previous updates, this one has taken a while. Still, like I've said, I do actually have a real life that I need to attend to. Just be glad that there are a bunch of people that make me write even when I should be doing something more important. (You know I'm talking about you, Jon, nuhuh, Syao, Vash, hell, even you Sree). Like last chapter, this one took a lot to write- but mainly because I hadn't plotted it beforehand so a lot of it required careful reading and writing.  

Over the next few days, Harry, at Meciel's prodding, grudgingly practised his meagre Transfiguration skills. With Meciel's extraordinary ability to memorise and process entire slabs of text and Harry's naturally quick mind, within a few days of constant practise Harry had actually made some progress. Of course, he still blew up his matchstick every so often, but this time it was more charcoal instead of cinders.

'It is as I said, beloved,' Meciel said smugly as Harry stared at a glinting silver needle. 'With practise and patience, your skills can only improve.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Harry muttered sullenly. 'Now, can we go and work on something fun?'

'Not just yet, beloved. First, I believe it is time you went back to the library and searched for more texts about these so-called “Unforgivable Curses”'

Harry sighed but closed the thick Transfiguration tome and left the small and disused classroom, rolling his eyes in boredom as he strode towards the library.

Whenever Meciel wasn't badgering him into studying or practising, she was pressing him into attending the classes that Hogwarts offered. As always, Harry bowed down before Meciel's will and attended some of his classes. He kept up with Defence against the Dark Arts, finding Moody to be an excellent source of knowledge. He had tried a few lessons in Charms but found that the class was focussing on summoning and banishing charms, something he had mastered a long time ago. Sometimes he went to Transfiguration and sometimes he didn't. In any case, Harry ignored McGonagall's attempts to discipline him until he thought that the stern witch wanted to raise her wand at him out of pure frustration.

But after a few days, Dumbledore must have issued a warning to all of the Professors, because despite Harry's bad moods, disruptive behaviour and scathing tongue, they stopped trying to discipline him and asking him to complete homework, much to the bitterness of his classmates and the disapproval of Hermione, who frowned at him every time she saw him. As long as Harry remind silent and unobtrusive in the class, the Professor's tended to ignore Harry, which suited him fine. He generally spent most of the lesson idly gazing out of the window while Meciel paid close attention to all of the lessons.

Much to his annoyance, Amanda still chose to hang around him. Despite Harry's snappy attitude and constant belittling, the blonde girl seemed to either have a resolve of steel or a brain full of air and the insults merely bounced off her. He soon learned to tune her annoyingly chattering voice out of his head and focus on other more important things, like getting the dark speck from under his fingernails.

Meciel may have forced him to continue learning the new and, to Harry, boring magic of Hogwarts, there were some areas that the teen wouldn't budge on and Harry found himself disagreeing with her as she tried to make him interact with the students, more specifically, the potentially useful and powerful students.

It was at least a week after Harry had first arrived at Hogwarts when he decided to attend one of the Care of Magical Creatures classes. As usually, Amanda trailed behind him, chatting happily to Ron and Hermione while Harry walked ahead, ignoring the icy-cold wind that slashed at his bare skin. Within his mind, the warm glow that signified Meciel's presence surrounded him, allowing him to ignore the freezing cold as he strode forward in his customary overcoat.

The Care of Magical Creatures class was held on the edge of the Hogwarts ground, near the dark and foreboding forest that surrounded half of the Hogwarts grounds. From the crude and roughly built hut at the edge of this forest, Harry could see other Hogwarts students milling about amongst the gigantic form of Hagrid. The giant man was grinning cheerfully behind his bushy beard and gave Harry and Amanda a cheery wave of hello. Harry ignored him, his eyes riveted to a small area by the lake where even now he could see cracked earth and scorched dirt- signs of the previous battle between Nicomedus' beasts and Harry and Molly.

Amanda waved back at Hagrid as they all came to a stop near the other group of students. Harry let his bored eyes wander around, idly noting the faces, many which were sneaking peaks at him with strange expressions. Although Harry had been at Hogwarts for at least a week, he had already gained a reputation of being a 'bad boy'- and not in the good way either. This, coupled with the fact that Harry rarely approached other students and rebuffed all those who approached him, was enough to garner a lot of attention from the student body, especially with those in the lower years.

Harry's eyes drifted over and stopped at Draco Malfoy, who sneered at Harry. The pale-haired boy had obviously not forgotten about the slight Harry paid him in Potions class. In Harry's mind, Meciel gave a tut of disapproval as Harry met Malfoy's sneer with a wintry smile, his eyes glittering dangerously, and the Slytherin boy fidgeted and looked away much to Harry's amusement.

It was at that moment that Hagrid started the lesson, his booming voice drawing everybody's attention to him. He was talking about a magical creature called a Niffler, but Harry turned out his loud voice. He was barely paying attention to the lesson as he focussed on Meciel, who spoke to him within his mind.

'You should be a little more polite to him, beloved,' Meciel said softly, her voice ringing with disapproval.

'Why?' asked Harry, blinking in surprise as his bright green eyes glazed over. 'You've heard the little git speak. He's nothing more than a twit.'

'Granted, that is true,' Meciel agreed. 'But if you had been paying more attention to your surroundings instead of letting me do all the work, you would have heard that he, his friends and his family are powerful.'

'Meciel, I could kick his arse from here to the Nevernever and back again,' Harry spoke bluntly, an amused smile twitching on his lips as he considered the mental image. However, Meciel didn't even give off a wisp of amusement, which was unusual for her, and Harry let a small frown cross his face as she responded.

'I meant politically powerful, beloved,' Meciel said softly, encouragingly. 'He could become a great asset in the Wizarding World later on in the future.'

'I don't want any assets, Meciel,' Harry said in annoyance, barely watching as Hagrid lifted up a small fuzzy creature. He ignored the pleased squeals of the girls, including a very high-pitched squeal from Amanda. 'I don't plan on staying here.'

'Then what are you planning on doing?' Meciel asked quietly and Harry suddenly got the feeling that the conversation had gotten a lot more serious than he had intended it to be. 'What will you do in the future? You cannot live like this forever- hiding away from the world. Your power and status, as both the boy-who-lived and as a Denarian Host, will not allow it.'

'I plan to learn everything I can from you,' Harry said softly, almost stung at her criticism.

Next to him, Amanda frowned as she looked away from the furry creature in Hagrid's arms and saw the first traces of genuine hurt on his face. She eyed him carefully, noting the way his eyes were glazed, and almost flinched as she realised that he was talking to the Fallen. Without even realising it, she took a hasty step away from him from under the watchful gaze of Hermione and quickly glanced away.

'And then what?' Meciel pressed on, much to Harry's annoyance.

'I dunno, Meciel,' He hissed within his mind, sarcasm laced in his voice as he lashed out in irritation. 'I thought that since you have, you know, existed before the beginning of time, that my lessons would take a little while to complete.'

'Sometimes, beloved, you can learn best by doing.'

'And that means what, Meciel?'

Meciel ignored his questions as she continued to whisper suggestively in Harry's mind, her tantalising voice filling his ears.

'There are many forms of power, beloved,' she told him. 'Magical power, physical power, political power, these are the most common. You have progressed far in terms of magical power, you have a decent understanding of physical power through your sword techniques, but you make no attempt to wield your obvious political power. This is a great weakness of yours and one that I have been unsuccessful in removing.'

'I don't want to be noticed,' Harry snapped in his mind, a scowl forming on his face as the rest of the class moved forward to a series of large wooden boxes. Harry stayed back as he listened to Meciel's response, his eyes darkening.

'Then you will never become as powerful as you wish to be,' Meciel said simply.

“Look,” Harry snarled out loud, his voice soft but angry. Luckily, there was nobody around to hear him as they all retrieved their own fury Nifflers. Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, his anger, annoyance and even hurt throbbing in the pit of his stomach.

'Look, I don't like that sort of stuff,' Harry thought a little more calmly.' I don't like other people at all. I like my own company, mainly because I seem to be the only one smart enough to understand me.'

'You must at least try to make the right connections,' Meciel pressed gently. 'Political power, when wielded correctly, can be most powerful.'

'I sure as hell am not becoming a politician!' Harry growled into his head, his voice bubbling with irritation as he clenched his hands together, gritting his teeth.

'Please remain calm, beloved,' Meciel said gently, her voice both reproachful and concerned and Harry felt her throb with a warmth that put him at ease. 'I did not mean to upset you. I was merely pointing out that…”

'It's as simple as this, Meciel,' Harry interrupted firmly, his voice hard and cold. 'I don't want to do it, so I'm not going to! Remember, I'm the one who's in control here!'

'As you command, host,' Meciel responded, her voice alien and void of all human emotions and Harry shivered at the harshness of it, feeling her brief flash of what seemed like hurt at his harsh words.

A moment later, the fallen angel's warm presence fled from his mind and Harry shivered, suddenly feeling very cold as he turned around and walked away from the class without another word.

Later that day, Harry watched as his hand waved his wand in an elaborate whirl, crimson and ebony sparks flying through the disused and empty classroom. At the present moment, Harry's consciousness resided in the far reaches of his mind. His entire body felt as if it were glowing with a radiant heat as Meciel took control of his motor and magical functions.

“Are you paying attention?” Harry felt his mouth move as the words came out, his voice far crisper than usual. There was an odd double-note in the voice, a subtle but noticeable feminine lisp layering his words.

'Yeah, yeah,' Harry thought with a sigh, but he focussed on Meciel's next movements as his hand rose, the fingers tightly clutched around the wand.

For a brief second, Harry felt the usual rush of hellfire, a blazing inferno of heat and power that accompanied his every spell, whether it was cast by wand, sword or even ring- although Harry hadn't used that crude focus for a number of years now. However, something seemed to clamp down on the dark powers- an icy tinge that usually accompanied a channelling of pure wand magic- and Meciel expertly waved the wand.

Harry felt a slither of pure wand-magic flow through his wand, untainted by Hellfire, and heard an incantation rumble of his lips. On the desk in front of him, a small piece of wood that had been carved into something akin to a matchstick shimmered. A pale silvery colour flowed into it as it lengthened and flattened, one end jutting off into a point and the other end extending out into loop.

The piece of wood had just been successfully transfigured into a glinting silver needle.Harry felt a rush of warmth leave him and suddenly he was back in control of his body. With a thoughtful frown, Harry absently twirled the wand in his hand as he examined the needle closely, picking it up with his left hand and gingerly testing its sharpness.“Well, damn me to an eternity of pain and agony in the lowest depths of hell,” Harry whistled, impressed with Meciel as he threw down the needle. “It worked.”'Our practise is certainly paying off, beloved,' Meciel said with an air of satisfaction. 'Why don't you have a try now?'“I'll bet you a twenty that this doesn't work,” Harry sighed and raised his wand, narrowing his eyes in concentration. He drew in a deep breath and waved the wand, trying to mimic what Meciel had done with wand-magic when she had temporarily stopped the flow of Hellfire.On the desk, another piece of wood shuddered as Harry muttered the incantation. The piece of wood shimmered and for a moment, Harry thought that it might actually work. But the shimmer suddenly flashed red and black and the piece of wood hissed and spluttered as it was consumed with flames with a loud and sudden crack.“Well,” Harry sighed in annoyance as he let out a small huff. “That went well.”'Be patient, beloved,' Meciel said, appearing to be untroubled by his lack of progress. 'That technique I just showed you requires a lot of skill and practise. It may take some time for you to master.'“I don't see why we're doing this,” Harry admitted as he idly flicked his wand, banishing the small pile of smoky ashes off his desk and sending them soaring across the room. “It's a waste of time that I could be using to have a nap or clip my toenails.”'Transfiguration is a delicate branch of wand-magic but most definitely useful if mastered,' Meciel said patiently. 'Besides, I believe there are spells that can clip your toenails for you.'

“Really?” Harry asked, sounding a little surprise as he went back to studying the needle Meciel had just transfigured.

'I'm certain, beloved.'

“Huh,” Harry uttered. “These wand-wizards have a spell for everything. You have to tell me more of these things, Meciel, or I'll never learn.”

'They do have a great many spells for a great many purposes,' Meciel said with amusement. 'However, I do not believe they have a spell to stop young boys from trying to waste time, which is a pity for one such as myself.'

“Oh, you never know,” Harry said with an air of mystery, a smile of amusement lighting up his face. “Broad area, wand-wizard magic, isn't it? Who knows what they have?”

 

'Indeed, beloved.'

“They might have…Ooh; I don't know, charms to make people stay away from you,” Harry said thoughtfully, nodding to himself. “I could really use that one. Maybe they have a spell to break people out of magically binding tournaments?”

'I sincerely doubt it,' Meciel said. 'Otherwise it wouldn't be known as a magically-binding tournament, would it?'

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry muttered. “I tell you what; I really want to find a spell that kills people who give you dirty looks. I'm starting to get sick of the other students around here.”

'I believe they call that spell the Avada Kedavra curse,' Meciel said in amusement. 'And I thought you didn't care how other people thought of you?'

“Oh, I don't,” Harry said quickly, pulling away from the needle and leaning back in his chair. An annoyed frown came over his face as he continued. “I honestly couldn't care what any of these pathetic spoiled brats think about me, and that includes the biggest and most annoying brat of them all. What I don't like is when somebody looks at me as if she knows she's better than me- especially when she's wrong.”

Suddenly the seat across from him was occupied as the illusion of Meciel neatly slid into it, as if she had been there all along. Her midnight black hair seemed to glow with a radiant light as she folded her hands on top of each other, her silver eyes watching him carefully.

”I see,” Meciel said slowly, her voice quiet. “I presume we are not talking about the Carpenter girl here.”

“What, the brat?” Harry scoffed. “She's too scared to even think that about me.”

“I didn't think so. After all, she does seem to hang on your every word,” Meciel said thoughtfully. “Are we talking about that friend of hers, Hermione?”

“Right in two,” Harry responded easily and let out a wistful sigh as he continued. “Sometimes I wish I could just smash her head into the wall.”

“Indeed,” Meciel agreed thoughtfully. “However, I do believe that you made a promise to do no harm to the students of this school.”

“Hey, the last time I checked I wasn't a Faerie or a demon,” Harry said, almost defensively. “I'm not forced to follow the Old Rules- I choose to.  Technically, I could choose to stop following them, if only for a little while.”

“The Order of Blackened Denarius is mistrusted and hated because they choose not to follow the Old Rules,” Meciel said sternly, her voice leaving no argument. “The Old Rules run the supernatural world- whether it is for Vampires, the Sidhe or demons. If you follow them then you will appear to be much more…open…for bargains and conversations and the like. You do not want to gain a bad reputation, beloved. I can assure you of that.”

“Alright,” Harry said quickly, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “I was just saying that I don't have to, not that I won't. There's no need to continue Lecture 1A on Harry's behaviour.”

“Still beloved, there are other actions you can take if you wish to impart revenge on this girl,” Meciel said thoughtfully. “The Old World runs on technicalities and loopholes, after all.”

“Oh?” Harry said, making a noise of surprise.

“For example, if you truly wished to strike out at her, I suggest that you murder her family,” Meciel said easily and her face had no flicker of emotion as she casually discussed the murder of innocent people. “Kill her mother, father, brothers and sisters if she has them. Make sure that they suffer, so that Hermione will suffer. After all, you only said that you would not harm a student.”

“Right,” Harry said slowly as Meciel continued.

“If that is not too your liking or you wish to strike at the girl herself, then there is nothing stopping you from doing so,” Meciel told him.

“Except my word,” Harry responded slowly, cocking an eyebrow at Meciel's words. 

Meciel shrugged, a small smile curving her lips.

“You swore that you would not strike out at any of the students,” She responded with satisfaction and a glimmer of darkness flickered in her beautiful silver eyes, flames licking at the edge of her pupils. “That leaves quite a lot of room for an indirect attack. Perhaps you can organise for the girl to be tortured? No, such an act would be sure to draw a lot of attention, especially from Dumbledore.”

“Um…” Harry started slowly, eying Meciel strangely. “You seem to have put a lot of thought into this.”

“Not for this girl in particular, but yes, I have,” Meciel told him and a small affectionate smile came over her face. Harry felt something warm ruffle into his hair, as if Meciel was rubbing her hands through them. “I think so that at times of importance, you don't have to. Hmm, have you thought of getting somebody to apply a curse on the girl?”

“I can think,” Harry said defensively. “And no, I haven't thought about that.”

“I know of this particularity nasty curse that would rot her mouth away every time she tried to speak,” Meciel said thoughtfully. “Still, there are other ways to break a person, especially a female. Have you considered arranging a rape?”

“Okay, let's drop this,” Harry said quickly, an awkward expression on his face. “I've done a lot of bad stuff, Meciel, but I haven't fallen that far yet. How about I just go out of my way to annoy her, hmm? Does that work for you?”

“As you wish, beloved,” Meciel said, smiling slightly and sighed. “It is a pity, though. I would have enjoyed hearing her screams of torment, no matter which course of action you had chosen.”

Harry just shook his head ruefully, mostly in amusement at Meciel's antics, and continued his lesson. He frowned and raised his wand, leaning forward and jabbing it at another stick on the desk in front of him. At the same time, he tried to clamp down on the constant stream of hellfire that flowed through his veins. For a brief instant, he suddenly felt a pure rush of the cool magic of the wand-wizards and one end of the stick extended out into a silvery point. However, this only lasted a brief instant and a trickle of hellfire seeped into his wand. The other end of the half-stick, half-needle flickered with flames and curdled with smoke as it was consumed.

“Hey, almost got it that time,” Harry crowed triumphantly and the illusion of Meciel gave a proud smile.

“Indeed you did, beloved,” She said warmly, her beautiful face glowing with pride. “That was an excellent attempt.”

Harry almost flushed at her praise and ducked his head, examining the remains of his transfiguration attempt carefully. After a few moments of prodding the warped silver needle with his wand, he looked up again, his face hesitant.

“Are you still annoyed at me?” He asked bluntly and Meciel frowned, carefully considering her words.

“Not as such,” She said slowly. “My annoyance stems from the fact that you may be wasting potential power.”

“Meciel, that guy is a dick,” Harry said with an annoyed sigh. “And he's a racist. I wouldn't want to ally with him anyway. I think hating people on the basis of a defining characteristic is just stupid. You should hate everybody equally.”

“Both of those traits can be used against him,” Meciel told him carefully, as if she were being hesitant in her words. “And this isn't just about that boy.”

“Oh?” Harry enquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Your attitude puts people off, beloved,” Meciel said, but without malice and her words remained kind and warm. “I know you enjoy acting the way you do - I'll admit that I enjoy it as well - but you tend to drive away a lot of potential friends.”

“I don't want friends,” Harry grumbled in protest.

“Allies then,” Meciel countered calmly.

“I have allies!” Harry said in a childish and wounded tone. “I have plenty of allies that like me for who I am!”

“You do?” Meciel questioned and a small smile came over her face. “I must have missed something then. Please beloved, enlighten me.”

“Well, there's…you,” Harry said and gestured to the illusion of Meciel, who watched him with a serious face tinged with slight amusement. “And…there was…Cessbulby. You can't say she's not helpful. There's…there's also…er…Maeve. She seemed to like me.”

At the mention of the Winter Lady's name, Harry saw a flicker of annoyance and even anger come over Meciel's face and her next words were not kind or warm at all.

“You're infatuation with the Winter Lady is not only foolish but dangerous,” She said in a severe voice, her face showing her displeasure. “The Faerie, especially the High Sidhe, seek to entrap foolish mortals into bargains they can not possible keep. You know this!”

Harry almost flinched at her tone and felt a throb of anger flood over his mind. Some of it was Meciel's but most of it was his as he bared his lips back, his eyes glinting with sudden anger.

“Why don't you just shut up?” He snapped back, his voice filled with anger and hurt.

“Very well,” Meciel said stiffly, her voice alien and remote. Her face looked as if it could have been carved from a statue of ice and she fell silent. An instant later, her illusion was gone from the chair as quickly as it had came- there was no flicker or shimmer of anything.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh and a bitter expression came over his face as he jumped from his chair and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him with great force. He didn't feel like studying anymore. Maybe it was time to go see how Faerieland was doing.

Harry glanced around the room as he placed the small bowl of fresh fruits and sweets he had taken from the feast onto the ground, in the middle of an ornate and decorated circle. He looked at the gleaming silver coils and shining jewels that had been embedded into the circle and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“What a waste,” he muttered to himself as he stepped back from the circle. “She's weak and stupid. Professor Annoying must really have it rough.”

He almost expected a small laugh from Meciel but the Fallen remained silent, and Harry sighed wearily as he took in the surroundings of the room. Hogwarts, it seemed, was warded against the Nevernever, whether it was a Faerie or creature trying get into the castle or a Denarian renegade trying to open a circle or a portal to get outside of the castle. However, Harry had had a small suspicion that Molly's classroom had been made immune to these restrictions, especially since she was hosting classes on Alternate Magic's and the Old World. Besides, Harry had heard a few of the Hogwarts students that had attended the first class say that the blonde Professor had summoned up a little fairy named Toot-toot- which was exactly what Harry wanted to do.

He was aware of several portraits in the room, all trying to watch him inconspicuously as he went about his business but Harry ignored them as he narrowed his eyes, using his full concentration as he poured power into the circle. There was a flicker of magic, a shimmering red and black haze spiralling around the circle. A faint silvery glow started flashing into the air, growing brighter and brighter with each passing second. From within this silvery glow came a showering cloud of sparkling silver mote and a female faery appeared from within.

Cessbulby blinked her luminous blue eyes and glanced around, her pinkish-red mane of hair whirling around as she sniffed the air, almost warily. There was a look of reluctance and uneasiness on her face until she spotted Harry, and then she seemed to forget her troubles as a beaming smile washed over her tiny face.

“Harry!” She squealed and buzzed her wings excitedly. A shower of silver motes fell from the dragonfly wings and disappearing with soft flares of light on the floor. Suddenly she sniffed the air again, but this time it was out of curiosity and her eyes flew down onto the tray of fruit and sweets. With an excited squeal, she rocketed down and dug into the food.

Harry blinked and watched the small faery tear into through orange skins and coconut shells with unbelievable strength, lifting the pulp and juice to her mouth and swallowing it all in a giant gulp. He sat back and let the small Winter Faery enjoy her side of the bargain.

A few moments later, Cessbulby sat back, patting her stomach contently. Harry cleared his throat and watched with amused green eyes as Cessbulby gave a surprisingly deep burp and glanced at Harry with languid blue eyes.

 

“This was nice,” she purred cheerfully.

“I'm glad you enjoyed it,” Harry said and moved forward to sit on the floor next to the small faery. “Now, can I ask you some questions, Cess?”

Cessbulby nodded slowly, blinking furiously as she rubbed her hand over her bloated stomach.

“Who put my name in the Goblet of Fire?” Harry demanded quickly, his eyes intent and his face serious.

“I can't tell you that,” Cessbulby said and let out another burp, this one sounding more like a startled squeal. She glanced at Harry's annoyed frown and elaborated. “Maeve can't see into this castle. It's warded like a fortress and there's a powerful faery here protecting it.”

“A faery?” Harry blurted out, blinking in surprise.

“Mmhm,” Cessbulby said, nodding quickly. “A Summery Faery as well.”

“Huh,” Harry muttered and a pensive and curious frown came over his face as he pondered that latest development. “I haven't seen one around and I haven't felt any faery magic - but I've only been here for a week and a half.”

“There is one here,” Cessbulby said and suddenly something sly and almost flirty entered her voice as she leaned forward, ignoring her bloated stomach as her eyes glowed with mischievousness. “Lady Maeve is annoyed that she can't see you, especially since she wants to talk to you.”

“Er…what?” Harry asked slowly, blinking in surprise.

“Maeve wants to talk to you,” Cessbulby repeated impatiently and stamped a little foot on the ground.

Her wings buzzed once or twice and then she zipped off the ground and towards Harry, landing in the surprised boy's hair and nestling in beneath the untidy mop of dark hair. Harry growled in annoyance but Cessbulby leaned down and put her head near his ear.

“I can't really tell you what she wants you for because it's not part of our bargain,” Cessbulby said and lowered her voice to a sly whisper. “But I heard that it might be about sporting.”

Harry swallowed, a scowl appearing on his face the same time his ears and cheeks flushed with colour. Something tingled in his belly and he cleared his throat quickly, very well aware of what the Faeries idea of sporting was.

“What do you mean?” He asked quickly, trying to peer up into his dark locks without any success.

Cessbulby let out a small childish giggle and ruffled his hair with a tiny hand.

“Oh no,” She said warningly, amusement laced in her voice. “I told you that's not part of our bargain, didn't I little Denarian?"

Harry sighed in irritation, his face quickly regaining its natural colour as he forced his embarrassment down. He let out a wordless growl of annoyance at Cessbulby, but the winter faery ignored him, content to play with his hair. Harry had to admit that the feelings were very soothing as he dropped the subject.

He moved on and started asking his other questions about what Maeve had seen in her little magical video camera of the world. After hearing about a breakout in violence with some vampires and true-wizards, Cessbulby finally brought up the topic of Nicodemus and the other Fallen of the Order of Blackened Denarius.

“There's no news on Nicodemus,” Cessbulby said idly as she fidgeted in his hair. “Vesper and Bathrail are snatching up Nicodemus' territory quicker than I can snatch the wings off a Summery Faery- Did I tell you about the time when we caught a Summer Fae in Winter territory?”

“You did, Cess,” Harry said impatiently, eager to get back to the topic at hand. “So, there's no news on Nicodemus?”

“Nope, “ Cessbulby said cheerfully, but something entered her voice- hesitation. “He seems fixated on the death of the Knight and his family. It's really not like him at all to give up all of the power he had strived for over the years just for revenge, even if it is over some foolish mortal emotion like love or grief.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked carefully, narrowing his eyes with thought.

“Nicodemus was always careful and patient,” Cessbulby said. “Now he's acting ridiculously. It's really not like him at all. I know Lady Maeve thinks something's wrong.”

“Something's wrong?” Harry asked. “Like what?”

“Well,” Cessbulby started but it was at that moment that the doors to the classroom swung opened and dozens of students started to walk in.

They stopped, blinking at Harry in surprise as he glared at them. He didn't need to even look as he felt a brief flash of ice tingle his scalp- Cessbulby instantly disappearing back to the Nevernever in a burst of Winter magic. Harry wiped a cloud of floating silver motes from his eyes as he stood up, scowling fiercely at the class as a tall blonde woman, Molly, came forward in the robes of a Professor.

“What are you doing here?” She snapped at him, her voice suspicious and untrusting. Her blue eyes stared coldly at him as Harry regained his composure and let a arrogant smirk twist his face.

“I have lice,” He said cheerfully. “And nothing gets rid of lice like a Faery doing your hair.”

Molly blinked but Harry paid her no attention as he quickly strode from the room, leaving behind an astonished class and a speculative teacher. Once outside, Harry sighed and made his way back to the Gryffindor tower.

The meeting had been more or less useful. Nicodemus was being unusually silent, although Harry wondered if he were having problems bypassing Dumbledore's powerful wards. There was a Summer Faery in the school, something powerful enough to block Maeve from watching in, which mean that Harry had lost a good source of information about the doings of Hogwarts. On top of all of that, Harry had a Triwizard Tournament to worry about.

With another sigh, he planted an annoyed glare on his face and strode into the Common Room, ignoring the stares and looks he received as he stormed up into his dormitory. The room was empty and Harry whipped his wand through the air and slammed the door shut with a powerful charm, before reaching under his bed and pulling out his sword of evocation. The First task was looming up and he had better start preparing for it.