The Enemy of My Enemy Chapter Two

[suchsights]

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of his world. If I did, I'd be too busy rolling in big piles of money and laughing like a madman to do anything else. Oh and, no offence is intended and no money is being made.

Chapter 2

It was the second day back, and Harry was confused. Worst of all, there was no one he could talk to about it.

Although, Harry thought to himself, it’s not like I could talk about it, even if there was someone.

The problem, was his new teacher. Ever since Harry had locked eyes with Innadrue Felldane, he hadn’t been able to get the man out of his head. As he had lain in bed on the first day, he had been able to tell him self that he hadn’t really been attracted to Innadrue. It was must have been some kind of vampire trick - after all he had said he liked playing games, and pretty much everyone he looked at seemed embarrassed about something. Once he had decided this he smiled to himself, and promptly fell asleep. The trouble was that night his dreams were filled with snow white limbs, crimson lips and most of all brilliant violet eyes.

The next morning Ron had woken him “You better get up mate or you’re gonna miss breakfast” the red head called, tossing a pillow at Harry, as he finished dressing.

“Um… sure be right there” Harry said sleepily, but making no move to pull back the covers, the memory of the dream still having a very noticeable effect on a certain part of his body.

Ron paused for a moment at the doors waiting, then smiled knowingly and left, giving Harry a bit of privacy to get up. Harry flopped back into bed and groaned. It looked as though Innadrue wasn’t going to be quite so easy to dismiss from his mind.

As Harry got up he was pleased the others were all dressed and gone, and not just so no one had the opportunity to comment on the tent in his pyjamas. Stripping off, Harry looked down at his body and stretched. He ran his hands lightly over his chest and across is abs, then sighed and stopped. He was not going to touch himself, if he did after that dream it would be like admitting that it had meant something. Which, he decided, it very definitely didn’t.

After a (very cold) shower and quickly dressing Harry had rushed down to breakfast. Once there he realised that he didn’t actually have anything until Charms in the afternoon, and that he could have stayed in bed after all.

“Ron, why did you wake me?” Harry asked his best friend grumpily, as he took a seat across from him.

“I ‘fort you might be ‘ungry” Ron said around a mouthful of sausage.

Harry just grunted in reply and helped himself to some orange juice.

“Where’s Hermione?”

“Amfant Oons” Ron garbled, still eating furiously.

Seamus and Neville both burst out laughing, causing Ron to look up blushing.

“I think he meant ‘Ancient Runes’ Harry.” Neville supplied helpful.

“Yeah, that’s right. Ancient Runes.” Ron added with a sheepish grin.

For a while the four of them eat in companionable silence till Seamus broke in

“Dark Arts again tomorrow morning”

The others just nodded, each looking as eager as the next to talk about it, but bound by the spell. What Harry wanted to ask most of all was what they had felt when the looked into the vampire’s eyes.

Harry snorted quietly to himself, Yeah right, I can see it now, I’ll just ask “Hey Seamus, did you get turned on by our new teacher the other day? Ron, how about you?” he thought bitterly.

Even on the remote chance one of them had felt the same as Harry, he felt sure none of them would every admit it. He knew he certainly wouldn’t. Although as soon as he thought this Harry asked himself why was he so embarrassed about it? After all, the wizarding world was easier going about the idea of two men together than the Muggle world. And it wasn’t as though he had done anything; it had just been idle thoughts.

But you’ve never had those kinds of thoughts about a man before, and even in the wizarding world it’s not exactly seen as great. Not to mention the fact he’s a teacher… A nasty little voice in the back of his mind said.

“Mr. Potter, may I have a word please?” Professor McGonagall’s crisp voice said, pulling Harry away from his thoughts.

“Of course Professor.” Harry replied leaving the table, his food mostly untouched and grateful for the distraction. “Have I done something wrong?”

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow archly, “Not that I am aware of Mr. Potter, I merely wished to inform you that the headmaster has decided to lift your Quidditch ban.”

“Quidditch?” Harry said stupidly as he realised that he had not even thought about his beloved game over the summer. In fact he had tried to avoid thinking about anything in the wizarding world as much as possible.

“Yes Mr. Potter, Quidditch - a game played on broomsticks? I trust you remember?” McGonagall went on, a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

Harry just nodded, a much larger smile spreading across his face as he took in what he was being told.

“Well I’m glad to see that my new house captain has at least some memory of the game.” She finished, in a kindly amused voice.

For a moment Harry just starred at her, trying to be sure he had heard right. “Captain! But Katie has been on team longest and she-”

“Was the very first person to suggest you. She does not want the position Mr. Potter, and she thought you would be ideal. And I have to say, I rather agree with her. Now, do make sure you practice hard Harry, I believe I’ve mentioned to you before that I have gotten rather used to the Quidditch Cup sitting in my office.” With that she was gone, leaving Harry standing with his mouth open.

Harry walked back to the table, still smiling and sat back down with his friends.

“What was that about Harry, I guessing you’re not in trouble by the look on your face” Ron asked pouring himself a cup of tea.

“Oh nothing much.” Harry said airily, watching as Ron took a mouthful of tea. “She was just letting me know that I can play Quidditch again- oh and by the way mate, I’m your new captain.” Harry grinned as Ron choked on his tea.

“Really!” Ron asked when he had finished coughing.

Harry laughed and nodded. “Bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, very loudly, causing a group of passing Hufflepuff to jump and look over. Ron didn’t notice.

After that, breakfast was forgotten and the rest of the morning was spent in the common room discussing the upcoming Quidditch season. All of his friends seemed really excited about him being back on the team, especially Ron, who if anything seemed more pleased than Harry. Just before lunch Hermione arrived back in the Gryffindor tower and heard the news.

“Oh Harry, that’s wonderful! You must be so pleased!” She began smiling at the two beaming boys, then frowned “Oh, but will you have enough time to study being captain and everything, I mean we are starting NEWTS this year.” She asked her voice full of concern. Harry and Ron starred at her flabbergasted and then looked at each other, totally at a loss for words. Hermione rolled her eyes and then she grinned again “So, when’s your first match?”

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The charms class that afternoon was not Harry’s most successful. They were supposed to be combining two charms they had used before into one; making a teacup sprout legs and then dance across their tables. Not only did Harry fail to get his teacup to grow legs, he also shattered one and somehow set another on fire. In retrospect, he thought it might have had something to do with the fact he was trying to draw sketches of different Quidditch plays as he spoke about them with Ron, at the same time as spell casting. Finally, Hermione looked up from her teacup (which was now dancing a rather intricate Rumba) and glared at the pair. After that they did quite a bit better, and by the end of the class both had managed to get their cups to do a rather unsteady wobble across the table.

That night, Harry and Ron rushed through dinner and were quickly outside on their brooms. Before too long several of their team mates and friends came out to join them, and the evening was spent in a sort of unofficial first practice. Even Hermione came out to watch (though steadfastly refused Ron’s suggestion she join in). By the time they came in the light was beginning to fail, and Harry was exhausted but happy. Being back on his broom and feeling the wind rush by him seemed to have blasted away some of lingering depression of the summer. As they trekked up to the common room Hermione and Ron were both thrilled to see Harry in such good spirits, and shared relieved grins with one another at seeing their friend seemingly getting back to normal.

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The three of them managed to get their favourite seats by the fire, and were soon chatting happily. After a few hours, and when Harry and Ron began to discuss each play that they had been made for the fourth time, Hermione finally gave up and said goodnight. Not long after Harry suggested doing the same to Ron.

“Yeah. Dark Arts first thing tomorrow.” Ron agreed, clearly still eager to say more but unable.

Harry just nodded, unsure of what he would say even if he were free to speak.

That night, Harry dreamt of flying across a night time sky, chasing the gold glimmer of the snitch across a glittering field of stars. As he sped through the air feeling the wind whip across his face, he felt a sudden certainty that somewhere out in the dark a pair of violet eyes were watching him…

Harry woke before any of his dorm mates, feeling slightly shaken by his dream. He slipped quietly from his bed, out of the room and went to the bathroom. As he stripped naked and moved to stand under the shower-head, he had a sudden flash of the eyes from his dream, causing him to spin round in alarm only to find he was looking at an empty room. Harry gave a shaky laugh and shook his head.

“Get a grip Harry, just a dumb dream… just a dream.” He muttered under his breath as he turned on the shower. But despite what he told himself he couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being watched.

By the time Ron and Hermione came down to breakfast, Harry was almost finished with his.

“You’re up early Harry.” Hermione said as she took a seat opposite him. “Did you sleep ok?”

“Yeah, fine thanks” Harry lied, rather unconvincingly, nodding to Ron as the redhead took the seat to his right. “Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow, it’ll be good to see Hagrid properly won’t it?” he rushed on before either of his friends could ask more about his sleep habits.

Harry’s distraction worked, and after that, most of breakfast was spent speculating over what kind of awful creatures Hagrid might have for them this year.

The first class of morning was Herbology with Hufflepuff. It soon became obvious to all the Hufflepuff (including their Head of House, an increasingly annoyed Professor Sprout), that the Gryffindor among them were distracted. The final straw came when even Hermione was caught day dreaming when asked a question.

“Would I be a million mile off the mark to guess that your next class is Defence Against the Dark Arts?” Professor Sprout finally snapped at them. She was greeted with many shame faced nods. She sighed, “I realise I may not be quite as interesting as our resident melodramatic vampire, but please do try to pay attention.”

After that, while the concentration of the Gryffindor did not improve they did at least try to look like they were paying attention. Finally the class ended and they were dismissed, then it was down to the catacombs.

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Innadrue sat upon a gilded chair, humming softly to himself and absently twirling one of his long locks of golden hair around his fingers. In the dark cavernous room, that was his home at Hogwarts, he stared intently into the ornate golden framed mirror that dominated one of the walls. As he gazed at the empty chair reflected in glass, there was a polite knocking at the door, and the hunched form of his servant entered.

"Your classs will be arriving sshortly Masster." The thing hissed, its face hidden beneath a black scarf and wide brimmed hat.

"Very well. Go lay out my clothes. I shall dress momentarily" The vampire order with a dismissive wave of his slender white hand.

Rising from the chair, Innadrue looked down at his own naked body, running his hands slowly over his chest. Then, looking back up to the empty room in the mirror, he sighed. Turning abruptly, he strode across the room, and with one last longing glance at the image in the glass, he opened the door and left. In the dim ligh, the mirror reflected the exact same as view as it had for the past hour - an empty room, without a living soul in it.

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As the Gryffindor headed towards the catacombs, the same nervous excitement was etched on every face. When they reached the huge brass doors, they found them already wide open, and the classroom fully lit. Tentatively, the class entered - though this time Harry hung back instead of leading the way.

After looking around the room, Hermione turned to Harry and whispered “He’s not here.”

“No, maybe he’s planning on making another grand entrance.” Harry replied. “And why are you whispering?”

Before she could reply, Dean caught everyone’s attention by exclaiming. “Ewww! Is that blood!?”

Harry and the rest of the class turned to see what Dean was pointing at and saw there had been an addition to the room since yesterday. Along the wall opposite the blue fire was a long counter with crystal decanters lined up along the top, with matching crystal goblets surrounding each one. All of them, without exception, were filled with a deep red liquid.

“Whose blood do you think it is? Where did he get it all?” Lavender whispered, sounding on the edge of hysterics. Parvati just shook her head in response.

Just then, the smaller door behind the divan opened, and Innadrue casually sauntered in. Like before he was dressed in black. This time tight fitting black trousers were tucked into soft black leather boots, that came up just passed mid-calf, and a black shirt with a high stiff collared and large cuffs finished it. Harry noticed uncomfortably that the shirt was only buttoned from half way down, leaving an expanse of white flesh on display.

“Please take your seats so that we may begin.” Innadrue said seating himself on the divan.

Once everyone else was sitting he scanned the room and smiled.

“Before you all start worrying over whether or not I decided to drain some poor little first year class - you may like to know that what you are all gawking at, is a rather excellent Merlot.” Innadrue said with a smile. Seeing the blank looks his was getting from a few in the class he continued. “It’s red wine - dear God, do they teach you nothing of importance? Anyway you may help yourselves, you are all old enough, and I’m of the opinion that wine lubricates the brain.”

At this Ron turned to Harry and grinned before heading towards the wine, joined by several of the rest of class. Harry however, remained starring at Innadrue, who in turn was starring into the fire. Hermione just scowled.

“There are of course rules.” Innadrue continued with out turning his attention from the flames. “You may drink, but you may not get drunk. I have no intention of monitoring how much wine you consume - you shall all have to regulate yourselves, and I shall be…displeased with anyone who fails to do so. Now go get your wine and take your seats.”

As most the class helped themselves to wine, Harry continued to sit beside an equally immobile Hermione as he stared at Innadrue.

“Well, I’m pleased at least you're being sensible Harry.” Hermione said pointedly as Ron returned with a very full glass.

“You heard the man Hermione, lubricates the brain.” Ron grinned in reply. “You not getting any Harry?”

“What? Oh… yeah I was just about to.” Harry replied, finally turning to his friends. “Sorry, sort of drifted off.” With this he quickly went over and poured himself a glass.

Once everyone was seated and looking expectantly at Innadrue, he stood and faced them.

“Yesterday I gave you a brief overview, today, we shall begin for real. Your teaching over the last few years has been somewhat hit and miss, but sadly your teacher last year, completely failed you - the entire years worth of classes were sadly close to pointless. Thankfully however, some of you were wise enough to look elsewhere for education.” As he said this his eyes flicked briefly to Harry, and he shot a quick smile. “But those of you who did not join 'Dumbledore's Army' last year do not need to despair. You will however need to take extra classes.”

At this, a storm of protest broke out from those who had not been members of the DA. Those who had, just smiled (and as a rule looked rather pleased with themselves).

“There is absolutely no point protesting, it will change nothing. However, it might make you feel a little better to know that those who were members, are going to help me give the extra classes.”

At this news the majority of the former DA members looked distinctly less pleased.

“These classes will only be for 5th, 6th and 7th year students and will take place in the evenings. The exact date will be arranged later, but don’t worry I shall ensure it does not clash with Quidditch.” As he spoke Innadrue walked down from the platform and poured himself some wine. “Now then…” he said before pausing, taking a sip and smiling in pleasure. “Shall we begin?”

“This year I shall be attempting to teach you how to recognise and overcome, or at least survive, some of the more serious threats you could face in the future. This will include dark curses and hexes, dark artefacts and also dark creatures. These fall roughly into two groups; firstly the fully sentient,” he grinned showing his fangs, “such as myself, lesser vampires, some of the greater demons etc. Secondly, the more bestial creatures that can be trained and used as weapons.”

As the rest of the class listened intently, Harry found himself paying far more attention to the opening of the vampire’s shirt. His eyes, seemingly against his will, moved over the pale pectoral muscles and the small hard nipples only a shade or so darker than the rest of the skin. As Harry's gaze travelled upwards he was startled to meet Innadrue’s eyes, a half smile playing on the edge of his full lips. Harry felt the heat rushing to his face and quickly looked away, knowing he had already been caught.

“Great, just great.’ He muttered to himself.

Looking around to see if anyone had been watching Harry was relieved to see everyone else busy putting their book back into their bags. Apparently he had missed that instruction while his mind was on other things. As he started to follow suit, he realised that putting books away almost certainly meant a practical lesson.

If I can just stop staring and pay attentions this could be good, he thought.

Innadrue rose in one swift, fluid motion and began to pace back and forth across the raised platform. As he addressed them his face and voice dropped the playful note they had before, and he was suddenly serious.

“You all know of the Impertius Curse, you all felt it from the impostor Moody in your fourth years. Mr. Potter, has even felt the power of the Dark Lord’s curse.”

At this the eyes of the class turned to Harry, and he felt his face warming again.

Innadrue’s eyes however remained fixed on some distant point, as he continued. “While this is a very serious threat, it is far from the only method of mind control. There are others that can be far harder to detect - and therefore to resist... The Imperitous Curse is a battering ram against the fortress of your will. If you are strong enough you can hold it back for a time. The truly strong of will cannot be controlled in this way, the most you cope hope to do would be to shatter their minds into madness.”

Harry shuddered as he remembered both the searing pain of refusing Voldemort’s commands that night in the grave yard, and also at the thought of Barty Crouch Senior. When Harry had seen him for the last time, Crouch had managed to shake off the hold of the Impertious curse but it had left his mind broken.

“But why assault what you can enter freely?” Innadrue continued his voice intense. “There are ways of tricking your way into any fortress, even the mind. But I shall teach you to recognise the wooden horses you would otherwise, willing accept through the gates of your consciousness... All these things are simple. The greatest threat, the true threat, is insidious. You will not see it. You will not hear it. You will not sense it… The greatest control over another occurs when they do not know it exists. The reason? Because they will never fight it, never resist. It will whisper in your ear, with your own voice and you will think it part of you… It is quite possible to become the slave to another’s will and never know a thing about it.”

Innadrue stood silently for a moment, his eyes far away.

After a time, he turned towards them. “Most of you will probably never be able to detect this kind of control, not fully, but some few may be capable of being taught. I can teach you what mental defences there are, but one of your greatest protections will be you friends, and those close to you. Watch for sudden changes of previously held opinions, of tastes and mood. Any, or all, of these things of course do not have to mean anything. But if a being capable of this control is near by... it should be considered. The list of beings, by the way, is very short.”

“You're one of the things, aren’t you? You're one of the things on the list?” Harry asked suddenly, surprising himself. He didn’t know how he knew but he felt certain he was right.

Innadrue did not reply immediately but looked at Harry thoughtfully as if carefully considering his answer.

“I believe I can say, without arrogance, that there are none, living or dead, who match my skills in this art. It is among the greatest of my powers.” his face became less serious as he spoke and a sparkle came to his eyes. “Which to be honest with you kiddies is really saying something, because quite frankly I’m really, rather spectacular. But fear not, your headmaster has forbidden me to use this ability outside of a teaching context. Your minds are your own, although I might sneak the odd peak at the now and again.” He finished with a grin.

Harry and Ron shared nervous glances, both unsure if he was joking or not. Harry didn’t know what Ron didn’t want Innadrue seeing but, he knew exactly what he wanted to keep hidden in his own mind.

“Now then, that having been said, on to art appreciation and the trap of beauty.” Innadrue said airily.

As he spoke, the door through which they had entered opened again, and a short man entered dressed all in tattered black. Worn heavy looking boots were visible beneath the dusty black coat, but only barely. The collar was upturned and high, casting most of the face in a shadow that light did not seem to penetrate. A black hat, the kind Harry had seen gangsters in old movies wear, covered the rest. The only flesh visible was the clawed and scabrous grey hands that held a large tray, covered with a sheet of blood red silk.

“Your, ssssll, ssstatuess my Masster..” The thing hissed in a strange hesitant voice, as though speech were something unfamiliar to it.

“Very good Titus, place them on the table please.” Innadrue replied, alone in the room in seeming unperturbed by the newcomer.

As the thing, Titus, crossed the room Harry realised that he wasn’t short at all, as he had first thought but rather hunched over. Once the tray was deposited on a table on the left of the room, Titus bowed low to Innadrue and shuffled quickly from the room.

“My servant.” Innadrue said by way of explanation to the questioning looks around the room.

“What was he?” Seamus whispered to Dean, who was sitting with him. However, in the silence it carried across the room for everyone to hear.

“That is not your concern Mr. Finnigan.” Innadrue snapped coldly. “You need only know that he is mine.”

Seeing that this was clearly not a subject Innadrue was willing to talk further about, no one said any more. Harry guessed however that he wasn’t the only one wondering what the answer to Seamus question was.

“Now, as I was saying, art appreciation.” Innadrue continued, his voice once again light. “Who can tell me what a Siren Statue is?”

To no ones great surprise, Hermione’s hand was the first in the air. Innadrue acknowledged her with a smile and a small nod of his head.

“It’s the common name for a statue that has been bespelled to prevent you being able to look away. It can be done with all kinds of art, but works best of statues.”

“Very good Miss. Granger, take ten … no, wait… make it five points. Ten points for a correct answer shall hence forth be reserved for people who have made the effort to make their hair look nice before coming into my classroom. Now then, one of the main reasons that statues are…” He paused looking out at the incredulous faces starring back at him.

Hermione seemed stuck somewhere between outrage and embarrassment while Ron, just starred in open mouthed disbelief.

“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?” Innadrue demanded, looking genuinely puzzled.

For a moment no one answered, till finally Ron burst out. “You can’t give out points based on people’s hair!”

Innadrue looked carefully at Ron for a moment taking in his shock of red hair with one raised eye brow.

“Well you would say that, wouldn’t you? But I think you’ll find that I can. I can (and indeed shall) also give points out based on whether or not you’re wearing good shoes, your clothing, personal hygiene, and of course general attractiveness. The chronically ugly, will actually lose points by answering questions - unless willing to wear some kind of mask when talking… and well, just whenever they are in public really.” Holding up his hands to halt the protests that were beginning from all around the class, he continued “Enough! My classroom is a dictatorship not a democracy and my word is law. Plus, we really should be getting on with today’s lesson.”

After the muttering died away, Innadrue had each of them come to table with the waiting tray upon it, and take a small statue from under the silk with strict instructions not to look at it till instructed.

After everyone was back in their seats, the statues hidden in their hands, he spoke.

“Your task for today is simple. When I give the word you will look at your statue, then at my command, you will look away. All clear? Good, then begin.”

Opening his hands Harry looked down at his figurine. It was a rather uninspiring statue of an elderly looking witch, with a black cat weaving between her legs. Harry wasn’t sure what exactly he had been expecting, but he knew it was something a little more… impressive. It was certainly well made but not really all that interesting. And the detail was impressive; there were even small laughter lines around the witch’s eyes. Looking closer, Harry noticed just how impressive the cat was as well. It almost seemed to be moving…

“That is enough. I would like all of you to look away now.” Innadrue’s voice said from far away.

I’ll look away in a moment, Harry thought. The eyes of that cat are amazing! So real looking. It almost like they’re looking back.

“All of you listen to my voice. Look away now.” Innadrue’s voice intruded, closer seeming than before, more insistent.

This time Harry went to look up, but suddenly noticed a small ring on the hand of the witch, the light seemed to glinting on an impossibly small stone.

So what?! I don’t care about this stupid statue! Harry railed at himself.

But every time he went to look away, some new detail would capture his attention. After a few minuets of trying, Harry found himself forgetting why it was he shouldn’t be looking at the figure in the first place. It was after all very pretty.

Distantly Harry was aware of noises and movement from around the room but he was found that he couldn’t focus on it. Eventually, Harry felt a cool hand gently touching his shoulder. His skin tingled at the contact and for a second his eyes flicked to the elegant fingers contrasted against the black of his robe.

“Harry… look at me Harry.” Said a soft, sweet voice in his head. “Ignore its spell, and look at me. Wouldn’t you rather look at me Harry?” The voice laughed, a rich, dark sound. “Look at me Harry.” The voice asked again, even softer than before and hearing the words felt like being wrapped in silk.

Harry shivered and felt his skin tingling. All thought of the statue gone, Harry looked up and found himself starring into ageless violet pools. For a moment he was lost again, but this time in the depths of the vampire’s eyes. A strangely gentle smile was on Innadrue’s face as he looked down. He gave Harry’s shoulder a brief squeeze before leaning in.

“Well done Harry.” He whispered, this time aloud.

As he leaned forward to speak strands of shimmering hair fell forward, almost touching Harry’s face. Before he realised what he was doing, Harry found his hand reaching up to touch the golden strands. Catching himself just in time, he blushed furiously and lowered his hand. Innadrue only watched, making no comment, the same warm smile on his face.

Not daring to continue looking at his teacher, Harry glanced about the room. Every one was looking slightly dazed and talking to one another. Hermione however seemed to have been watching Harry, a quizzical expression on her face. Harry looked away quickly and decided the safest place to look was probably his desk.

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Over the rest of week the spells did their work, and there was no discussion of Innadrue or his classes. Despite this, Harry found that his mind was often drifting in that direction.

On the Friday of the first week back, as Harry and the other Gryffindor entered the Great Hall for lunch, they found Dumbledore standing in front of the staff table smiling and waiting for the students to take their seats.

“Please, please; dig in - only a very small announcement. I thought it might interest one or two of you to know that, a few moments ago, the very last class had their first lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts. That being the case, all spells preventing discussion are now... lifted.” Dumbledore informed them with a flourish. After a few seconds of silence the entire hall broke into hundreds of separate conversations at once.

“A vampire! He’s a bloody vampire!” Ron more or less yelled at a slightly startled looking Hermione. “We’re being taught by a sodding vampire!”

“Yes Ronald, we all know that - and I don’t think that’s any reason to spray me with food, thank you.” Hermione replied primly.

“Yeah, but he’s a vampire! A blood sucking vamp-”

“SO ... Harry, what have you got anything more insightful to say?” Hermione said pointedly scowling briefly at Ron.

“Er... not really. I mean, I know how Ron feels, it’s all a bit nuts isn’t it?” Harry shifted uncomfortably as he answered.

“Still, I’m sure Dumbledore thought it through, I mean if the vampires are on side against You Know Who, it could be really important.” Hermione said thoughtfully

“Yes but he’s a VAMPIRE! A BLOO-”

“RONALD! WOULD YOU STOP IT”

Unfortunately Hermione’s outburst came just as a lull in the general commotion of the hall had fallen, and the three of them suddenly found a rather large number of faces turned towards them.

“Um, let’s talk about this later shall we?” a red faced Hermione asked. The boys quickly agreed and began loading up their plates.

Despite the fact everything in front of him looked delicious, Harry found he had no appetite. All week he realised the spells stopping them talking about Innadrue had meant he could ignore the effect the man seemed to have on him. What would happen now?

As Harry helped himself to several sausages, Ron returned to the subject of Innadrue.

“Mental with those Siren Statues wasn't it?” he asked, clearly trying to be rational.

“I know! I'd read about them of course, but I'd never guessed they were so powerful - its no wonder they're illegal. Some people have actually died of starvation because of them you know.” Hermione agreed nodding. “I really tried, but I couldn't look away from that stupid little duck, it just keep getting more and more interesting. And then Professor Innadrue touched the back of my head, and I heard his voice in my head telling me to look away,” Hermione shuddered at the memory “it was like he'd slapped me in the face or thrown ice water over me.” She shuddered again and looked up at the two boys.

“Same here - it was like jumping into the lake in middle of winter!” Ron said looking at Harry.

Harry looked down at his plate, concentrating hard on cutting up his food. It hadn't been like that for him at all. No sharp painful shock, no icy coldness. It had been... wonderful.

“Was it the same for you Harry?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry rather too curiously for his liking.

“um, yeah pretty much the same” Harry lied, thinking of the look Hermione had given him in the class as he'd reached for Innadrue's hair. He quickly tried to change the subject “Our first proper quidditch training session tonight, huh Ron? Looking forward to it?”

Hermione looked a little puzzled, but Ron was perfectly happy to talk at length about his plans for the upcoming season. As they finished their lunch and gathered their things to head to Transfiguration, Harry wondered how many times he'd be able to change the subject before it became obvious to even Ron.

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The try outs for the Gryffindor earlier in the week had resulted in the same team as last year, with Ginny Weasley and Demelza Robins replacing Angelina and Alicia as chasers. It seemed strange to Harry at first to be the one directing everything, but after his experience in charge of the DA the year before he found that it came surprisingly easy to him. It was a great practice and as they headed back to the changing room there were statements, in one form or another, about how the Cups would be staying with Gryffindor this year from pretty much the entire team.

“You are Harry... Potter.” hissed a voice from the shadows, just as Harry and Ron were about to go through the door.

Starting Harry spun, hand going for his wand, as Ron swore in shock and did the same.

“My massster sent me to tell you, that you are bid dine with him tomorrow” the voice continued, as Titus stepped into view.

He was dressed as he had been when they had first seen him, though in the fading light of the evening, the shadow his high collar and hat cast upon his face was absolute.

His heart still beating furiously, Harry lowered his wand most of the way down and took a breath to calm himself.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“My massster sent me to tell you, that you are bid dine with him tomorrow” Titus repeated in exactly the same emotionless tone of voice. This time holding out a letter in his hand.

Warily, Harry reached out and took it, trying not to shudder at the dead looking grey skin of Titus' hand.

“Um, thanks but I'm not sure I'll be able to make it...” Harry said shakily, suddenly more nervous of the idea of spending time alone with Innadrue than he was of the strange creature springing out of the darkness.

“My massster sent me to tell you that you are bid dine with him tomorrow” Titus snarled sounding angry.

Harry swallowed hard.

“Er, I mean of course - I'd love to have dinner with him.”

Titus made no reply but Harry thought he saw his head nod. Then he turned and vanished back into the shadows.

“Bloody hell mate!” Ron exclaimed, letting out an explosive breath “That thing scarred the hell out of me, what kind of nutter sends a … a whatever he is out to deliver messages?! What's wrong with using a sodding owl like normal people?!” he ranted.

Harry just stared down at the envelope in his hands and at the word 'Harry' written in beautiful, curving script.

“What are you going to do?” Ron asked worriedly

“I guess I'm going to dinner...” Harry replied looking up. The ink, he noticed, had been a deep, dark red.