Katie would be our younger sister,' Neville agreed. 'She's not responsible enough to be an older sibling. Harry's probably the eldest.'
'Harry's the youngest,' Katie disagreed, 'his birthday is the last of ours and only the youngest sibling has a temper like that.'
'So we've agreed that Neville's the middle child, then,' Harry grinned.
'The one that gets picked on and then blamed for everything,' Katie nodded, 'definitely.'
'It's a good thing we're not actually related,' Neville decided. 'You two are a terrible influence.' He threw a glance down the ward to where Madam Pomfrey was eyeing them sternly. 'I think we're about to be thrown out,' he remarked.
'It does look that way,' Katie agreed, slightly sad. 'I'll be out of here in a few days, so I'll see you then, Neville. Harry, I'll come to your funeral, since Fleur is going to kill you the moment she hears about what happened I likely won't see you again.'
'Every cloud has a silver lining,' Harry agreed, laughing. 'Besides, once I'm dead she's coming straight for you, so I'll be seeing you soon enough.'
'She won't actually be angry with me, will she?' Katie asked quietly, as Madam Pomfrey approached. Neville stepped away, not wanting to hear.
'Maybe a little bit,' Harry confessed, 'but it's nothing personal, you're just part of the reason I got myself in trouble.'
Fleur was just slightly possessive, and wouldn't much like the idea of him defending Katie, even if she wasn't going to make an issue out of it. Harry was fairly sure her little sister, Gabrielle, had reaped Fleur's temper for throwing her allure at him when they had first met, and she doted on her baby sister.
Speaking of Fleur's temper, it's almost time for me to leave.
It wasn't entirely coincidence that he'd recently learned to perform the flame-proofing charm.
'Out you go, Mr Potter, Mr Longbottom,' the nurse ordered them. 'Visiting time is up, and don't let me catch either of you sneaking back in later.' She was looking rather specifically at Harry.
'Bye, Katie,' Neville said, not willing to linger and risk Madam Pomfrey's wrath.
'Goodbye, Dark Mistress,' Harry bowed, earning a giggle from Katie and a slight purse of the lips from the strict nurse, who was waiting for him to go. He fled before Madam Pomfrey evicted him more forcefully, or worse, made him drink something from the potions cabinet.
'You're off to tutor?' Harry asked, as they reached the foot of the staircase.
'Yes,' Neville admitted. 'Dean and Ron still can't quite produce a full shield charm, and I need to work on mine. It's a bit off; it trembles.'
'I can have a look at it after the weekend?' Harry offered.
'Yeah,' Neville accepted gratefully, 'that would be great, thanks.'
He made his way quickly up the stairs towards the seventh floor, and Harry waited for him to move out of sight before turning and hurrying towards Myrtle's bathroom and the chamber.
The ghostly girl was there this time. She poked her head through the cubicle door, and gave him a smile and a wave which he cheerfully returned before disappearing down the stairs. Myrtle seemed to be taking her role in guarding the chamber quite seriously.
'Have you come to see if you can perform legilimency on yourself using the time -turner?' Salazar asked eagerly when he entered the study a few moments later.
'No,' Harry gave him flat look. 'If I wanted to die in a horrible, complicated way I'd go and find Riddle.'
'You probably wouldn't die,' Slytherin tried.
'If you can honestly remove the probably I might consider it,' Harry told him, 'but until then I'm only using the time-turner occasionally to help learn important things, or to rectify serious situations.' 'I suppose that's wise if you want to be overly cautious,' the portrait griped. 'It's inadvisable to constantly use something like a time-turner, all the extra time without sleep puts a lot of strain on the mind, and you can barely use it now everyone's watching you anyway. Someone would notice you were in two places at once fairly quickly.'
'I take it you came here to practise something then? Have you managed to get anywhere with your legilimency?'
'A little practice on a sleeping fourth year,' Harry told him. 'Nothing complex, but I'm getting the hang of casting the spell without an incantation and I know how much power I need to put into the spell to create a weak or strong connection.'
'That's better than nothing, I suppose,' Salazar grumbled. 'I can't do more than get better at casting it without a wand or an incantation as things are,' Harry shrugged. 'I'll have to wait until after asking Neville for more.'
He folded his invisibility cloak up and placed it on the desk next to his pile of Daily Prophet articles and the still unopened bag of winnings from the Triwizard Tournament.
'What did you need that for?'
'I carried out my revenge on Umbridge,' Harry told him. 'The advantage of owning an ancient family heirloom that hides my magic completely is that it makes it easy to get past any wards.'
Slytherin looked at the cloak thoughtfully for a moment, but his attention soon returned to Harry when he glimpsed him pick up the hand drawn picture portkey Fleur had given him. 'Oh,' he groused. 'I see. You came down here to go off to France, not to see me and learn anything important.'
'That's about right,' Harry nodded, sending him an innocent smile.
'Well before you go, tell me what you did to Umbridge. Was it something deliciously ironic? Irony is the most delicious form of vengeance.'
'She has a quill enchanted to use the user's blood as ink. It's painful to use and leaves scars, and she makes students write lines with it.'
The founder's face darkened, a savage, furious glint appearing in his eyes. The serpent hissed, baring its fangs. Harry had the distinct impression that had the basilisk still been sane and around Professor Umbridge might have been fortunate to find herself petrified. 'I altered the enchantment so it takes the blood from the creator rather than the user,' Harry grinned rather cruelly, 'she's going to get a surprise next time she hosts a detention. I reduced the pain to stop it hurting students, but it's going to all but ensure she doesn't immediately notice and gets scarred by it.'
'Good,' his ancestor spat. 'People like her disgust me, using something like that on a child. If my basilisk was still alive…' The painting trailed off his ire fading through vindication to pleasure as he contemplated the nature of Harry's little piece of justice.
'I'm off to France,' he said, waving the pencilled portkey gently to bring the painting back to the moment.
'Go on then,' the portrait, 'but don't say I didn't tell you when Riddle gets you because you weren't quite powerful enough.' He would have taken Salazar's words more seriously if the painting had been trying to conceal a pleased smiled. His ancestor knew how much he enjoyed his time there.
'Argent,' he whispered, and smiled a little nervously as he was whisked off to the willow tree and a French dusk.
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