“Harry.”

Harry looked up from where he'd been studying in the Slytherin common room with Blaise, and fixed his Head-of-House with a hostile gaze. “What?” What is it this time? The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Snape right then. It hadn't been long enough since the talk the day before.

“What, sir.”

“That's a new one.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“People've called me all sorts of things, but nobody's ever called me 'sir' before,” said Harry. Somehow picking at the man helped the nervous bubble in his stomach to calm down.

“Harry.”

The one word held a warning, and Harry decided to give in before it went too far. He'd had enough fights and stress the day before. “Yes, sir?” He asked innocently, as if he'd never been rude in the first place. Snape's eyes narrowed, but he apparently decided to let it go. “I need to speak to you.”

The nervousness came back. “About what, sir?” Harry asked with a hint of challenge. 'Cause if it's the same as yesterday, you can save it.

Snape looked quickly at Blaise, curled up on the opposite end of the couch from Harry, and spoke. “Nothing related to your home life, and you're not in trouble.”

“And if I say no?”

“This is not optional.”

“Figures.”

“Come, please. It should only take fifteen minutes or so.”

Harry left his books behind and followed the man back to his office.

“So?” Harry demanded when Snape sat behind his desk.

“I need to speak to you regarding the memory you threw at me yesterday.”

Harry went on his guard immediately. “You said this wasn't about that,” he said through clenched teeth.

“It's not, not in the sense you mean at any rate. I want to talk to you about the magic you used.”

Harry relaxed. Just a lesson, then. “What about it?”

“It is called Legilimancy, and it is extremely dangerous. I must ask you to use it with caution, or, better, to not use it at all.”

“I don't even know what I did.”

“You attacked my mind with yours, essentially forcing your thoughts into my brain.”

“And that's dangerous?”

“The way you did it, extremely.”

Harry felt a strange, unpleasant sensation in his stomach. “I hurt you?”

Snape smiled grimly. “Do you care?”

Harry lifted his chin. “No.”

Severus waited a bit, and Harry spoke up again. “So...did I?”

“You gave me a headache, but that is all. My mind is protected. The danger is, not everyone's is. That sort of magic should not be messed with without training. The human mind is a fragile thing.”

“So if you had not protected yourself?”

“You'd've probably not done any lasting damage, but you would certainly have knocked me out.”

“Oh.” Sorry. He added mentally.

“Yes. So, how could you use it, now that you know?”

“I thought you said you didn't want me using it.”

“Not if you can avoid it, no. Most uses of Legilimancy are unethical in most circumstances.”

“So it's not just about showing people your thoughts?”

“Not at all,” Snape said, taking on a lecturing tone. “In fact, most people use it to read the thoughts of others. Essentially, Legilimancy allows a wizard to establish a connection between his mind and that of another – a connection that the Legilimens controls. This connection can then be used to either access the other's thoughts or insert one's thoughts into the other's mind. An Occlumens, on the other hand, can protect his mind from such an attack. Occlumency is much more common than Legilimancy. If you think for a bit, you'll know why.”

“You said that Lej-Legi-”

“Legilimancy.” Snape supplied.

“Right- legi...stuff – you said it was wrong, right?”

“Not always, but yes.”

“So that's it, then. “Good” wizards would be more willing to use Occlu-whatsits than...that other stuff, while “bad” wizards would know both, so the protective version would be more popular.”

“That's the part of it I was hoping you would get at, yes. Legilimancy, even the more legitimate uses of it, is viewed with suspicion by much of the wizarding world due to it's association with the Dark Lord and his followers. Additionally, all wizards are capable of Occlumency, but fewer are capable of Legilimancy.”

“Oh great, so I'm even more frea- weird than before.”

“I've been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“I didn't say it!”

“No, but it's clearly still firmly stuck in your psyche.” He got out a piece of parchment and handed it across the desk to Harry. “Write.”

“Write what?”

“You don't remember?”

Finally Harry figured out what he wanted. Grimacing, he started to write. '1. I am not a freak.' One line written, he looked up at Snape for confirmation and continued. Stupid lines. Stupid Snape.

“So, tell me a couple of legitimate uses for your Legilimancy.”

Harry smiled a little. “Knocking people out?”

Snape tilted his head thoughtfully. “There are certainly easier ways to go about it, but yes, in some circumstances that would be appropriate. What else?”

“I don't see why showing my thoughts to someone could be wrong. If I didn't hurt them, I mean.”

“There are different kinds of hurt. Imagine if you showed the memory you showed me to, well, someone like your friend Theodore, for instance, or a younger child.”

Harry bit his lip. “Okay. But otherwise it would be okay, right?”

“I wouldn't say always, but for the moment I cannot think of any specific objections. What else?”

“Errm...you said I could read peoples' thoughts?”

“Yes,” Snape said cautiously.

“Sounds like a major privacy issue to me.”

“Precisely. But there are circumstances that would merit it. Try.”

“If...if they attacked you, first?”

“That would depend on the attack.”

“Why? They attacked you.”

“Yes, but not every attack allows one to use one's full strength in fighting back.”

Harry frowned. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“Of course it does.”

Harry was still confused, but looked up at Snape's eyes. They were strangely gentle. “What if a younger child hits or bites you, Harry? Would it be okay for you to hit back at your full strength the way you might with Mr. Malfoy?”

Harry shook his head, starting to understand, and Snape continued. “And if you were to hit me, Harry? Would I have the right to hit back?”

Harry had no idea what to answer, and Snape frowned. “Just answer, Harry. It would be wrong for you to hit the child. Would it be wrong for me to hit you?”

Watching Snape warily, Harry gave a small nod. “Yes.” He expected Snape to make the obvious connection back to Vernon, but the man let it go. It didn't matter: Harry's mind took over where Snape's logic had left off. Nothing would make the way they treat you okay. He shoved the thought away, focusing back on what Snape was saying.

“Good. It is important that you ask yourself these sort of questions, Harry, because very soon you will come to be more powerful than your peers. You must not take advantage of it, even against those students who antagonize you. Do you understand?”

Harry considered him. I'm going to be stronger than them? Really? “You mean Malfoy.”

“Among others, yes. You have been practicing with your wandless magic. It is likely that it will soon be stronger than your physical strength. Malfoy is obnoxious to you. He insults you and your friends and you do the same to him. Do you hate him?”

“Maybe.”

“Does he deserve to die?”

Harry frowned, but answered unhesitatingly. “No.”

“Then don't use your wandless magic against him. He doesn't know how to fight against it. At the moment, it would simply make the fight unfair. In a certain time in the future it could kill him.”

Harry thought about that, then had a sudden thought. Hypocrite. “What about Flint?”

Severus stiffened, then forcefully relaxed. He has every right to ask that. “Touché. That was definitely immoral. The only answer I have is that I am hoping you will grow to be a better man than I.”

Abruptly Harry felt the need to lighten the mood. “Oh, good. I figured you'd've let me know by now, if you wanted me to be a Death Eater, but I wasn't sure and I want to save my arms for some attractive tattoos. Plus I'm pretty sure the Big Cheese doesn't like me.”

Severus wasn't sure whether to be amused or disturbed. I'd forgotten that he knew about me. “I might still be waiting for the opportune moment to introduce the two of you.” He proposed.

“Sorry. Not my type...and I'm pretty sure I'm straight anyway.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yup. No blokes for me. 'Specially mostly-dead snakey blokes.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”Snape said wryly.

“Don't worry about it. I'm pretty sure I don't want you playing matchmaker anyway, if that was your first idea.”

Snape gave one of his rare laughs. “Probably smart of you. And you managed to get me off topic again. What would be circumstances in which one could ethically use Legilimancy to read someone's mind?”

“If they were tryin' to kill me.”

“Definitely. Another?”

“If I asked first?”

“You'd have to be very specific, but yes.”

“Why would anyone give permission, though?”

“One common use is communication.”

“Hmm?”

“For example, if you did not wish to describe something, you could show me instead. If you were a Legilimens, you could initiate it, but if not, you could ask someone to Legilimize you. If you were an Occlumens, you'd be able to control what they saw. Otherwise you'd just have to trust them to only look at what you want them to. People have also used it to talk silently into each others' heads, but it has the same restrictions as of the other use.”

“So you have to be a Legilimens to show people your memories?”

“Yes. I said that, did I not?”

“I think so; I just didn't realize...you're a Legilimens, too?”

“I am.”

“You've been reading my mind?!”

“No. Just because I can doesn't mean I would. I told you it was unethical, did I not?”

Harry gave him a skeptical look, and Snape sighed before seemingly getting an idea. “Another use of Legilimency is in truth telling...”

“Great. So you can tell if I'm lying, too.”

“If I were to use it, yes. Like I said, I won't. I was wondering if you would like to try it.”

Harry stared at him. “I thought you just said it was wrong!”

“Not if you have permission, it isn't, and I just gave it.”

“I'll hurt you.”

“Which is why I'll teach you to be gentler about it, first. Do you want to learn?”

“Why would you let me do that?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“For one thing, I am an Occlumens, so I'll know you're there and you won't see anything I don't want you to. For another, I want you to believe me that I would not use this against you.”

With a start, Harry realized that he already did believe Snape. The man had never lied to him before, after all. That you know of. And that doesn't mean he's honest, it just means he knows when to lie and when not to. Yet he believed the man nonetheless, and he didn't want to be mucking around in peoples' minds.

“It's okay. I'll believe you.”

Snape frowned. “You do not want to learn?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It's creepy. I don't want to be messing around in peoples' brains.”

“Very well. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Not likely. Harry thought, but didn't say anything.

“Now, do you get why I wanted to talk to you?”

“Maybe. You wanted to make sure I didn't hurt anybody.”

“That's the main one, yes.”

“What else, then?”

“I want you to consider letting me teach you Occlumency. It could be important later.”

“More lessons?” Harry asked, dismayed.

“Once a week.” Snape answered.

“Can it wait?” Harry asked. Like until after you've given up on me? “I've already got a ton of classes and stuff.”

“It can wait,” Snape agreed. “It was optional in the first place. I do hope you'll consider it, though. Legilimens are rare, but they exist. A good example is the Dark Lord.”

“You still call him that,” Harry noticed absently.

Snape looked very uncomfortable. “It has been best, recently, that I continue to do so.”

Harry frowned. “Just how recently were you a Death Eater?”

Severus stiffened. I've been asking him uncomfortable questions. It's only fair. “That would depend on what you mean by Death Eater. It has been a long time since I was loyal to the Dark Lord.”

“What else would I mean by it?”

“I still carry his mark and curry favor with his followers. There were Death Eaters still in his ranks who did as much without feeling particular loyalty to the man himself.”

“There are Death Eaters who don't like the Dark Lord?”

“Don't call him that,” Snape said abruptly, “he is not your Lord.”

“What, I have to earn it or something?”

“Exactly. You do not deserve his mark.”

“And you do?” Harry asked incredulously. What the hell? I thought he just said he WASN'T loyal to him?

“Yes. Very much so.”

“Oh, behold, Snape the great, follower of the Dark Lord. Everybody wants to be him-”

“It is not a mark of honor, Harry!”

Oh. Suddenly the last couple of sentences had a whole different meaning.

“You think I am proud of my past? I have told you I am not a good man!”

Harry bit his lip. “People – people can change.” I can't believe I just said that.

“Like I said, it has been a long time since I was loyal to the Dark Lord. This does not automatically make me a good person. However, yes. For what it is worth, I am Dumbledore's man more than the Dark Lord's.”

“So if the Death Eaters who were loyal to him found out that you were not-”

“They would do everything in their power to kill me.”

“How is it okay that I know you're not, then?”

Snape met Harry's eyes, expression unusually open. “I already openly profess to being loyal to Dumbledore. Those Death Eaters who still think I am a one of them also believe that I am a spy. With any luck, they will also assume that you are wrong about my true loyalties.” He smiled, “by that token, your open dislike of me is rather helpful. If you really want me dead you ought to run around praising my name to any who will hear.”

“All hail Snape the Great, follower of Dumbledore?”

“You could try it. I don't know who would believe you, but you could. Eventually, people will figure it out, but my best chance is that the news not spread too quickly.”

“I won't tell anyone.” Harry promised.

Snape smiled slightly. “I thought you wanted me dead.”

“I never said I wouldn't kill you. I just said I won't help others do so. It's different.”

Snape's smile broadened. “I see.”

Searching for a way to change the subject, Harry had a random thought. “If you're an 'Occlu-thingy' why didn't you use it when I- attacked you on Friday?”

“I did.”

“But you saw-”

“I used it to cushion the blow, just not to block you out.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Why didn't you?”

Snape looked at him. “I was there to talk to you. I was therefore willing to listen to anything you had to say. In whatever form.”

Abruptly Harry realized that he was, once again, talking to the Greasy Git, and that that was not okay.

“Can I go?”

Snape didn't seem at all confused by the change in conversation. “You got my point about the Legilimency?”

“Legili-majig. Very dangerous. I don't actually want to mush Malfoy's brains. You want me to learn Occlu-whatsits eventually. Got it.”

Snape smiled again and shook his head. “You may go.”

That night in the Gryffindor common room, Harry had a very important discussion with his friends.

“So...what are you guys being for Halloween? You gonna dress up?”

“Nope,” answered Blaise, attention partially on the spell he was practicing for Charms.

“He's too dignified,” commented Theo. “He couldn't possibly dress up for Halloween.”

“Nobody's too dignified to dress up for Halloween.” Ron opined.

“Yeah,” added Harry. “Even Snape is dressing up.”

“He is?!” Hermione exclaimed, “REALLY?”

When Harry just smiled mysteriously, Blaise paused his practice to ask, “Does Snape know he's dressing up?”

Hermione just gaped as Ron started laughing. Finally she gave in and laughed too. “You are dead. You are so, so dead.”

“But brilliant.” Ron added.

“Glad you think so. The pertinent question now, of course, is what is Snape being for Halloween?”

“I should think it quite obvious,” Hermione contributed primly. “He's obviously a vampire...or maybe a vampire bat.”

“We are a bad influence on you, Hermione,” Blaise said matter-of-factly. “You sure you shouldn't be hanging out with Percy Weasley?”

“Hey!” Ron exclaimed, “that's my brother you're insulting!”

“I never said being a pompous know-it-all was a bad thing.”

“Hmmph.”

“Relax, Ron. Your brother blew up his cauldron on purpose in Snape's class. That makes him okay in my book.”

“He also let Fred and George kidnap him so that I could replace him in class and transfigure Flint's robes.” Harry added.

“Really?” Ron asked, apparently mollified. “I didn't know that!”

“Well I'm not really certain, but Fred and George said it was wayyy too easy, once Percy figured out what they were doing.”

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed enthusiastically. “We'll make a real person out of him yet!”

Smiling broadly, Theo steered the conversation back to Halloween. “Don't you usually touch things to transfigure them, Harry? Won't that be difficult?”

“Yeah, but I don't have to. It's just easier,” Harry said, then thought for a bit. Damn. “Anything elaborate will be too hard, though. Sorry 'Mione.”

“What if you just did a color change, or something?” Blaise proposed.

“I could do that.”

“I know!” Ron exclaimed, “Make him a Gryffindor!”

“That I can do.” Harry said, smiling. “Easy. Best part is, it's just the insignia. He probably won't even notice right away.”

“Perfect!” Ron exclaimed. “So, what are you being for Halloween, Harry?”

Harry smiled. “It's a secret. How 'bout you?”

“You didn't tell me yours!”

“Yeah, but that's 'cause it'll be more fun if you don't know. Come on, Ron, what are you being?”

Ron blushed. “Nothing, I guess. All I have is an old fox costume, and it's too small anyway. I should really let Ginny use it.”

Harry had an idea. “What do you want to be?”

“Well I saw this cool pirate costume in Madame Malkins, but it was wayyyyy too expensive.”

“What did it look like?”

“I dunno, it looked like a pirate. You know, with an eye-patch and a hat and a parrot and stuff.”

“I can do that, I think.”

“You- oh! Hey cool! Thanks!”

“No problem. It might take a couple days, but I'm pretty sure I can get it done for Halloween.”

“Hey!” Exclaimed Theo indignantly, “what about me?! I want a costume!”

“I've got to do Ron's and mine. There's only so many I can do.”

Theo looked tragic, and Harry smiled. “I'll do your hair...”

And just like that Theo was beaming. “Okay!”

Thursday morning, Harry was woken up by Theo, who wanted his hair done before breakfast. His Da had sent him a costume which automatically gave him a tail, horns, and little dragon wings, but Theo claimed that his dark hair didn't go with it. His wings and horns, and the spikes on his tail, were all crimson, and so his hair had to change to match them. Harry was happy to oblige – he'd've had to get up to practice his own costume, too – and soon Theo's hair was a fun mix of red and orange spikes.

He'd handed over Ron's costume the previous afternoon with a grin. He'd managed to fashion a pair of Dudley's old jeans into a pair of ratty brown trousers, with enough fabric left over to do the eyepatch and a headscarf. A tee-shirt, and he had a rugged long-sleeved shirt with broad sleeves that gathered at the wrist. Finally, he'd made the parrot, and brought it to his lesson with McGonagall so she could show him a couple ways to make it move. It wasn't fancy by wizarding standards – only it's head and wings moved – but with the twins' help he'd managed a feature that he was certain Madame Malkin's version had not had. All in all, he was as excited as Theo was to go down to breakfast.

It being Halloween, almost everyone was down at breakfast to show off their costumes. Harry had decided to show off his own costume at lunch, in order to better concentrate on Ron's this morning. Once Harry had explained that he needed to be relatively close for it to work, Ron had been perfectly happy sitting with Harry, Theo, and Blaise at the Slytherin table, where they had promptly been joined by Fred and George, who wanted to see if their idea had worked. Hermione had followed Ron, and Neville Longbottom had tentatively followed the two of them, so all in all the Slytherin table currently held five Gryffindors. Fortunately or unfortunately, the large patch of red at the Slytherin table drew a fair amount of attention.

“Disgusting,” Malfoy opined, “truly disgusting. The saddest part is, five of you are purebloods. Have you stooped so low, Zabini, that you would make friends with Gryffindors and mudbloods?”

The Gryffindors all bristled at the term, but Blaise didn't bat an eyelash. “We're Slythindors,” he stated in his usual proud manner, “we sit where we like, and with whom we like. Perhaps if your tastes were not limited to large, pureblooded, and stupid, you would have more allies.”

“I stick by my family, Zabini, have you forgotten yours?”

“I do stick by my family, Malfoy,” Blaise said mildly, “I am simply also capable of thinking for myself.”

“Also, Malfoy,” Harry added, “What kind of a Slytherin are you? Right now you are facing down a group of eight people, two of whom are older than you are, with nothing more than your two brutes to help you out. I would be polite.”

Malfoy looked around him subtly, and swallowed. Time to introduce Crackers, I think. Harry thought.

“WRRRAH! Make him walk the plank!”

Malfoy followed the sound and found Ron's parrot. He looked confused and angry for a moment before laughing. “Too bad your family can't afford to get you a real bird, Weasley. You are getting rather old for stufties.”

Harry intervened before Ron could get too mad. “What intelligence, Baywatch boy!” He said cooly, “You have once again noticed that you are wealthier than most. And so classy of you to point it out for us, too. We'd've never noticed otherwise, little peacock that you are.”

“WRRRAH! Peacock!” Echoed Crackers. Malfoy whipped around in astonishment.

“Baywatch boy?” Blaise wanted to know.

“It's from an American TV-show,” Harry explained. “Lots of pretty playboys jumping into the ocean to save a bunch of pretty bimbos from drowning. Also commonly known as 'Babewatch.' Malfoy's got the look down perfectly, hence the name.”

“WRRRAH!! Babewatch boy!”

“Shut it, Parrot!” Malfoy shouted as his cheeks turned pink.

“His name is Crackers,” Theo supplied helpfully.

“Smart bird, Crackers!” Crackers exclaimed.

“Very intelligent,” Hermione said, barely keeping a straight face. “Good judge of character, too.”

Malfoy gave up and stormed off as the eight friends started to laugh.

“Ventriloquism spell, Harry?” Blaise wanted to know.

“Worth every penny.” Fred answered. “Especially considering Harry can use it to throw somebody else's voice anywhere he wants it.”

“Not anywhere,” Harry said, “it's gotta be somewhere I can easily see, but yeah.”

“Brilliant,” Ron said, dreamily. “Absolutely brilliant.”

“Snape's turn!” Theo suggested enthusiastically.

“Allright, Theo, hold your horses.”

Harry looked up at the front of the hall while picturing the Gryffindor insignia as best he could, occasionally looking back at the Gryffindor's chests for reference. Within a couple minutes, Snape was dressed as a Gryffindor. Even better, he seemed entirely oblivious to this detail.

“Awww, no-one noticed!” Theo complained.

“They will,” Harry said. “They will.”

Just before Lunch, Harry returned to the dorms to perfect his costume in front of a mirror. Snape wasn't the only one who was going to be unknowingly wearing a Halloween costume. Grinning, Harry closed his eyes and felt for Malfoy. He had discovered that once he had 'become' someone, he had a feel for what their body looked like, and no longer had to look in a mirror or even picture them too closely to be them. When he opened his eyes, Malfoy looked back at him in the mirror. Then came the fun part. Harry gripped his robes in his hand and pictured his 'costume' – a little pink ballerina-style fairy outfit. He even managed to fashion little gauzy wings for the back. Opening his eyes, Harry looked in the mirror and started growing his hair longer, and parting it for pigtails. Oooh Malfoy's going to kill me. He thought. Bad enough looking like him, but looking like him in a tutu? Harry had a brief thought for his own dignity, but shrugged. He'd spent the last ten years in clothing so huge it was literally falling off. The tutu might actually be an improvement. At least it was humorous.

And Malfoy had sabotaged his potion that week, again, prompting Snape to ask Harry if something was wrong. Teach him to mess with me. Harry thought. He remembered Snape's warnings against actually hurting Malfoy, but he could still defend himself against the other boy's pranks. And who knows, maybe I'll get a fight out of it. The fights with Malfoy were different from those he'd had at home. Rather than leaving him beat up and feeling helpless, they left him beat up and relaxed. And Malfoy picked them as often as Harry did, so apparently he wasn't the only one that felt that way. The fact that it was Malfoy was just an added bonus. Grinning at himself one more time in the mirror, Harry went down to lunch.

“You know that's not funny anymore, right, Potter?” Harry said when he encountered Malfoy in the hallway. “You really ought to at least impersonate someone else.”

Harry smirked as Malfoy looked up and down his body, reddening. “You- you bastard! I'll kill you!”

“Temper, temper, Potter,” Harry said maliciously, before giving up on the switched roles. “You know, it could've been a stripper outfit or something.” Abruptly Harry remembered a comment from his conversation with Snape about using his superior magic. At the moment, it would simply make the fight unfair. Harry didn't want the fight to be unfair. It was no fun that way. Frowning, he touched his costume and changed it into a still very girly but somewhat better cheerleader outfit that worked perfectly with the pigtails he'd already put in. “Better?” He asked.

Harry thought Malfoy looked relieved behind his anger, but the other boy didn't say anything. Harry still found he couldn't do it. Sighing, he pulled out a couple strands of his hair. “Here. Snape keeps polyjuice potion in his lab next to the big batch of calming drought. You'll undoubtedly set off an alarm, but he'll probably assume it was me. Knock yourself out.”

Malfoy frowned at him in confusion. “Why are you doing this?”

Harry frowned back. “No idea. Just take it. The game's no fun otherwise.”

“You think this is a game, Potter?”

“Sure,” he asked, “what else would it be?”

“You...you humiliate me at every turn! I mess up your work! You gave me a black eye!”

“And you split my lip. So?”

“So, it's not a game! I hate you, Potter. You and all your little mudblood friends!”

“Hey, I never said I was a big fan of your existence, either, but this is petty.”

“Petty!”

“Yes, petty. What would you call it, if not a game, Malfoy? Some epic fight between the Death Eater kid and the Boy-Who-Lived? Neither of us is doing the other any serious harm. We haven't even tried. This is childish. It's fun. And, like I said, it's no good unless you keep up your end of the competition.”

“So you're giving me a head start.”

“If you want to see it that way. I'm evening the field.”

“No way. Do what you like, but this means war, Potter.”

Harry grinned. That's more like it. “Very well, Malfoy. I look forward to it.”

Harry could've sworn the Malfoy heir smiled back, just a bit, before turning on his heel to walk into the Great Hall before Harry.

When Harry entered the Great Hall, Malfoy was already sitting with his goons. Somewhat relieved, actually, because he'd really had no desire to spend time with the brutes, even for the sake of a prank, Harry sat next at the Gryffindor table next to Ron. Who promptly choked on his drink and spat pumpkin juice all over the (mercifully empty) bench across the table from him. Harry watched in bemusement as the food it touched on the way was instantly cleared and replaced, and the tablecloth dried.

“Please tell me you're Harry, and Draco Malfoy didn't just sit down next to me dressed as a cheerleader? Please?”

“How do you even know cheerleaders exist?”

“One of the muggleborns has a couple foot-ball posters,” answered George.

“Okay, but cheerleaders are from American football.”

Fred, on Harry's other side, laughed. “Oh, yes, because the only thing fourteen-year-old boys are interested in is sports,” he said sarcastically.

Oh. Harry laughed. “A point.”

“No wonder Malfoy looked so pissed when he came in,” commented George. “He see you like this before you came in?”

“Yup.”

“And he didn't fight you?”

Harry smiled. “We came to an understanding.”

At that moment, McGonagall came bustling up to the table to interrupt the conversation.

“Mr. Potter, I presume?” She sounded like she couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or amused.

“How could you tell?” He asked, smiling.

“Call it a good guess. You costume is inappropriate, Mr. Potter.”

“How so?” Harry asked innocently, “It isn't against the rules to look like Malfoy...”

“Mr. Potter-”

“...or to wear girls' clothes...”

“You know precisely-”

“so what's wrong with looking like Malfoy in girls' clothes?”

McGonagall stopped, as the amusement clearly won out over the annoyance, and Fred, George, and Ron started laughing. Finally she tried again. “You are showing entirely too much skin, Mr. Potter.”

It was true that the skirt was a bit short, but then Theo spoke up on Harry's behalf. “I don't know, Professor. Couldn't it also be said that Malfoy is showing too much skin?”

“More like Harry is showing too much of Malfoy's skin,” George contributed.

“Which would get Mr. Potter in even more trouble, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall said, reclaiming control of the conversation.

“Yeah, there is that,” said Fred thoughtfully. “It's almost like when Harry transfigured Flint's clothes, except that he doesn't have unofficial dispensation.”

McGonagall shook her head. “Just fix it, Mr. Potter.”

Harry smiled and concentrated slightly, regaining his own face and black hair while keeping the pigtails and the outfit. “Okay?”

“Your outfit is exactly the same.”

“Yeah, but I'm showing my skin now. I don't mind being a cheerleader for Halloween. I just figured Malfoy would.”

McGonagall sighed and shook her head. “Very well, I'll allow it. No more tricks today, however. That is enough.”

“More tricks?” Harry asked innocently, “I've only done the one!”

“And Se- Professor Snape just decided this morning that he would be a Gryffindor for Halloween?”

“Precisely,” Harry said proudly, then realized something. He's still wearing it! She didn't tell him! He beamed at the Professor. “And since he is obviously already aware of it, no reason to tell him, right?”

Finally the Professor smiled back. “Precisely, Mr. Potter.” As she walked away, Harry picked up her quiet whisper, “Five points to Slytherin.”

At dinner, Ron once again sat at the Slytherin table, but Hermione didn't join him. In fact, she didn't show up in the Great Hall at all. It wasn't unusual for Hermione to forget about meals when she was researching something, but it was the Halloween feast. There was more food than Harry had ever seen before, and the decorations were fantastic. Surely even Hermione wouldn't want to miss this?

Harry was about to ask, but Blaise beat him to it. “Where's Hermione?” He asked. He and Hermione had been getting along very well, recently, Harry had noticed. Blaise was much more tolerant of her study habits and bizarre interests then Ron or Theo tended to be. Maybe 'cause he's so smart. Harry thought. Hermione can be positively dense compared to him, sometimes. Blaise's grades weren't any better than Harry's, but get him thinking about something and damn.

“We had a fight in charms. She was all up about the pronunciation of the stupid levitation spell.”

“Okay,” said Blaise, “that explains why she's not here, here, but she's not even in the Hall. Where'd she go?”

Ron blushed and mumbled.

“Sorry, Weasley, didn't catch that.” Blaise said.

“I yelled at her, okay! One of the girls said she was crying in the bathroom.”

Harry and Blaise groaned. “So she's spending the whole feast in the girl's bathroom?” Theo asked incredulously.

“Well I couldn't hardly go find her, could I?!” Ron defended indignantly. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

“All right,” Blaise said conciliatory, “who do we know who's a girl?”

“Hermione.” Harry and Theo said in concert.

Blaise shot them an annoyed look. “Not helpful.”

“But true,” Harry said, “we can't just ask a random girl to go find Hermione for us.”

At that moment, though, the doors slammed open and Professor Quirrell ran into the room.

“Troll! Troll in the dungeons!”