Black Sheep

Well here it is folks, the Black Sheep story, hope you

like it.

Enjoy yourselves!

Summary: James Potter was not home that Halloween night when Voldemort paid the Potter residents a visit. Only Lily and Harry were home. Voldemort killed Lily with the killing curse, but spared Harry. The one—year—old child was left unharmed by Voldemort. He was called from that day on, The Boy Who Was Spared.

I don't own a thing, okay?

Thank you to my smashing beta for this chapter: Sami

If you have a question send me an addressed review, and I'll send a replay back to you some days later : )

And if you just want to praise me, then that's okay too 

"Everybody speaking"

¤¤Midnight's (Harry's) thoughts¤¤

/The majority of the presents' thoughts/


Previously in Black Sheep:

"But take my advice, as one of his victims; don't go looking for him. (…)You might think he doesn't notice you, or can't hear you speak ill of him, but he does; he always hears what he wants to hear, and he gets what he wants to get.(…) Trust me, you don't want to see him angry. You don't want him as your enemy."

Chapter 5: Nag, nag, nagging in my head…

The Slytherin first year boy dorm.

At 6 am, the second day of September, Midnight woke to the loud and grunting snores from one Vincent Goyle.

¤¤Ugh…not a very pleasing experience…¤¤

He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He would have to do something about that snoring, maybe put up a silencing charm. Because who knew what kind of guttural and grotesque noises that lump of a meat could make in the comfort of his own bed…


Midnight didn't even want to imagine such things this close to breakfast. He rolled out of bed and sent a disgusted glance over to Goyle before he blessed the dormitory with peace after a well placed silencing charm. He sent the same charm towards Crabbe's bed too as an afterthought. One couldn't be too careful, and the two of them really were too much alike for it to be healthy. Detailed pictures of pureblood inbreeding and dark arts rites flew threw his head.

¤¤Ugh…Damn that's nasty!¤¤

His imagination was just too good and describing at times...

He quickly grabbed his toilet kit and clean robes before he did a quick depanner to the bathroom.

When he came back to the dormitory, half an hour later, he was showered, dressed and groomed. The Malfoy kid had joined him only minutes after his rather rushed, but manly depanner from the dorm. Even though Midnight didn't like an audience when he got ready for the day, he was pleased to see some found it just as important as him, to get an early start of the day. Blaise was your typical B—person, meaning he'd rather stay as long as humanly possible before he got up from the comfort of his bed. Even though Blaise thought it okay not to look one hundred percent perfect all the time, Midnight did not. And as it seemed like Malfoy shared the same vision as Midnight, it earned him a point in Midnight's book.

Since there were only five Slytherin boys this year, all five of them, meaning Midnight, Malfoy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle, shared a dorm. Last year's first years had been seven boys and four girls. So the seven boys were spread in two dorms of four and three. This year the two dorms were melted together as one, so it was quite large, which was probably a good thing considering two of the boys' slight weight problem.

Midnight's bed was the one closest to the bathroom door on the far side of the room from the dorm door's viewpoint. And Blaise's bed was on his right side. At the other end of the dorm were the three other boys' beds. Malfoy's closest to the dorm door and right in front of Midnight's bed, and Crabbe and Goyle's beds thankfully a bit some to the right of Malfoy's bed.

"Blaise darling, would you mind terribly to get your ass moving and make yourself at least a bit more presentable? You are sitting with me after all, and it would look slightly ridiculous if you had me, looking like god's given child and you, as…well….not your best looking lad!"

Midnight strutted around the dorm collecting his things for his first lessons. He addressed his friend who was still lounging in his bed when he was deciding on which colour ink he should bring. The only reply he got though was murmured into the pillow.

"What was that sleeping beauty?" he asked with a sweet tone. He knew he was annoying the hell out of Blaise, sounding so much like Mrs. Zabini when he used that voice, and loving every minute of it. The Malfoy kid seemed to find it just as amusing where he stood by his trunk, not trying the least to hide his grin.

Blaise, in an effort greatly praised by gods, lifted his head half an inch up and one to the left so that he could be able to hiss, "Shut up Midnight!" before he dumped back on his bed.

"Blaise…I thought you had learned that such fowl words aren't very fitting for a pureblood!" Midnight said teasingly. "Don't you agree Malfoy?"

Malfoy, who wasn't expected to be acknowledged, gave a quick sound of agreement which seemed to please Midnight.

"Fuck you…" Blaise grunted. Had he possessed the strength he would even have thrown his pillow at the annoying boy, but he didn't, and besides, he only had this one pillow…

"Now Blaise, what have I told you about those requests? It would be highly inappropriate of me to grant you this constant wish. What do you think the press would say? The Boy Who Was Spared is not only a Slytherin but also granting young innocent boys the wish to fuck them on a regular basis! It wouldn't be fitting behaviour, so I must request you to never ask such thing of me again, Blaise dearest. I'm dreadfully sorry." Midnight spoke as he calmly put on his all black contacts. They were magical, he had gotten them in a scruffy shop in London, once you got them on them would grow so that they covered your whole eye with a black layer. The made Midnight look slightly demonic; he loved them for that.

A gasp and a shocked laugh came from the Malfoy heir and Blaise finally decided to roll over to his back.

"You're a sick fuck Midnight.." Was all the dark haired Zabini child said, before he pushed himself out of his warm bed.

"Why, thank you Blaise. But flattery will get you nowhere with me, and I still won't fuck you."


The day had started fairly normal after that. Midnight only received a few inquisitive, annoyed and frightened glances from the brave and bold (stupid really) part of the student body. Not including the Hufflepuffs of course, they were just too dim—witted to figure out something was off… They probably hadn't even noticed that the Boy Who Was Spared was amongst them. And announced a Slytherin, even though he was born a Potter...

Midnight, Blaise and Draco—the little rodent was stuck to them as glue—sat, ate and studied together that first school day. Blaise and Draco nagged on and on for an eternity about things that had no interest what so ever to Midnight. Though he threw in some witty retorts and sarcastic comebacks just to humour them. He was an irreplaceable member of the—oh how it hurt to say it—trio, so he had to at least act as is he gave a shit, and didn't ignore them completely. Well, at least in public…

Midnight had contemplated what Blaise had told him about Draco's influence, power and money. He had in fact thought about it all night. But he wasn't tired, even if he hadn't slept. He often stayed up all night studying, thinking… But he did it all in a trance like state, between deep sleep and attentive awareness. It was a difficult but marvellous combination of mind magic and meditation. A combination he had come up with on his own.

He had come up with the idea of studying for his classes and spending precious time thinking and scheming while meditating in a book. It wasn't a spell he had found, just the mention of how meditation affected the body and mind. A little more then a week before he read the meditation book, Midnight had been studying mind magic. He wanted to study it for the main purpose of getting better at controlling others and his own feelings and emotions. He figured that if he managed to manipulate his body and mind, he could trick himself to feel well rested and healthy even if he shouldn't be. The power to ignore pain, tiredness and fright was what he craved and fought for. And just imagine what he could achieve if he could somehow control and affect other peoples feelings! If he mastered this then his problems with the teachers here at Hogwarts would be much more pleasant… a conclusion he came to last night.

What he came up with after reading the meditation book, was that if he could get himself into a trance like state between deep sleep and awareness for some hours per day, he could use those hours thinking, training, studying, healing and learning while him body thought it rested. Giving him the feeling of hours of good, calm and undisturbed sleep, while his mind remembered and kept the memory from the trance. He also used a memory potion to make it easier for him to remember all he read up upon, thought he had been using that potion for three years now. He was also making it stronger and more powerful for each time he made a new cauldron. Slowly building up his tolerance and the effect he could get out of it.

His studying method was brilliant, and it was answer to his uncommon knowledge, power and cleverness. His former classmates must have been frustrated beyond belief, not knowing how he could know everything perfectly, jet never be seen studying. Oh how their irritation and envy amused him!

But back to the trio business. That was what Midnight had spent his time thinking about last night. He had promised Blaise to give Malfoy a chance. Keeping the promise was an entirely different case. Midnight didn't do tolerance and patience when it came to other 'children'. If he had a say in it, they could all go fuck themselves and leave him the hell alone. That went for his family, too. Annoying, stuttering idiots the lot of them. He was expecting a howler from James any day now, raving about how he had made his ancestors roll in their graves for willingly go to the Slytherin House. Never mind it wasn't his decision…

He thought hard and long about what he should do with Malfoy's presence and Blaise's wish. And he decided to play them. Blaise was his best friend and all, and sacrifices had to be made for a good friendship. But hell! Not these kinds of sacrifices! He would let them think he was okay with Draco's presence, the forming of the trio, and taking Malfoy under their wings. Blaise would be pleased and think Midnight kept his promise, and Malfoy would think he had gotten Midnight's friendship, trust and compassion…none would be the wiser. Midnight didn't do compassion or promises that didn't fall to his liking. And he didn't scarify or compromise, not for anyone other than himself.

As for now he would play their tune, but they would dance to his fiddle.

It was dinner now and the first year Slytherins had gone to three different classes: Double Charms, Potions, and Herbology.

Potion was by far the best in Midnight view. Snape was a likeable teacher…well, towards the Slytherins at least. He was all about skills, talent, discipline and order. Midnight was fairly good at the subject, and thought he might actually learn to enjoy it, especially if all Snape's lessons were as giving and quiet as their first one today. No one dared to speak out of turn, and everybody minded their own business. Although Midnight and the lovebirds — formally known as Blaise and Draco Malfoy — shared classes with Ravenclaws, Midnight had the feeling that even the bold Gryffindors would figure out that it would be in their best interest to keep quiet. In fact they shouldn't even breathe out loud when in a mile radius of Professor Snape.

Charms with the tiny little man, Professor Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw, was a joke. The half-breed, whom Midnight shuddered to think which creature his mother had fucked, had been laughable. Honestly, Wingardium Leviosa! An infant could manage that spell! Well, if that infant wasn't called Longbottom or possessed brilliant red hair of course…

Both boys from Gryffindor had gotten assistance from the raccoon girl, and still didn't manage it. The despicable female was enjoying the superior feeling it gave her far too much. She would have to be dealt with later, in private, no witnesses, no blame….

It wouldn't surprise Midnight if the two idiots were squibs. How couldn't they be? They were both children from semi-old pure-blooded wizard families, Longbottom was even the heir. But they still couldn't get past the simple trick of making a feather levitate! Redlocks thought he had finally done it once, but it was just Malfoy who was playing with him and lifting his feather instead of his own. Ah, well…it gave them at least a good laugh, Redlocks could go through an impressive amount of facial expressions in just seconds, while his slow, minimal brain figured out what was happening.

Something else that proved to be amusing with Charms was scaring Dean Thomas so much that he couldn't concentrate and get a decent charm in. A glance from Midnight and he would quickly look the other way. A smirk or grin and he would shudder. A whispered curse and a promise of pain and the Mudblood would dock his head and whimper pitifully.

¤¤ for my ears!¤¤

Midnight thought it a bit odd that Thomas suddenly found him so much more frightening then before. Even though Thomas had been one of their regular victims, and had done some horrible things to him, he had never reacted so violently to Midnight's mere presence before. Something was up, and Midnight wanted to know what, though he figured he'd get his answer sooner then later. Maybe the fact that Midnight was the Boy Who Was Spared and could do magic had finally sunk in and the Mudblood suddenly realize what a demon he now got the pleasure of spending the next seven years with in the same school…

Lessons with the Gryffindors seemed to be both a curse and a blessing.

Herbology, the last lesson they had before dinner, had been really shitty. Their Professor, Pomona Sprout, head of Hufflepuff, was just as impressive, awe-inspiring and innovative as her house members…the badgers….

She spent the whole hour going through which plants they would learn about and study the coming year, all from a ten feet distance at the least. And mind you, Midnight wasn't at all impressed or remotely interested in anything she had to say. The first year Herbology curriculum was worth shit in Midnight's eyes. None of the names she spurted out was of poisonous, dangerous, murderous, flying, moving, invisible, meat-eating, blood sucking, cutting or even stinging plants. Midnight wasn't concerned about learning more about Rosea-viridis Fragro, formally known as Eurous Pink. The light pink and lime green flower which spurted out sweet odours and could be used in perfumes, hair care potions and calming salt for children.

¤¤Spare me!¤¤

If the plant couldn't harm, lure, poison, kill, seduce, strangle, confuse or stun anyone, then Midnight wasn't interested. He guessed he just had to read up on his kind of plants on his own, and combine that Herbology knowledge with his potion studies. Because that was the only thing most plants were any good for: being ingredients for potions.

Throughout dinner and the rest of the day Blaise and Draco yapped on and on, while Midnight used his time ignoring everybody around him that somehow found his presence here at Hogwarts morbidly fascinating. But there were surprisingly few brave hearts (idiots, the lot of them) that walked up to him to ask a question or the like. He would have thought the Lions would jump to the opportunity to question, nag, insult, and yell Death Eater after him. Though not too many did, although Midnight saw many who craved to. It seemed like something stopped them and their rash action. What it was, Midnight didn't have a clue, but he was still thankful for it, no matter how short it would last.

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs didn't cause Midnight any problems. The Birds studied him from a distance, and the Hufflepuffs were just too scared of him and his supposed dark powers. Powers which, from the lore, had caused Voldemort to spare him.

The Great Hall, 6th of September, 8 am.

The inharmonious air and unease around the Gryffindor part of the student body had slowly grown thicker in the first days of school. And the reason to the tension came by air in the morning the sixth day. The Daily Prophet arrived by the owl post and chaos erupted.

"I'm going to kill that snivelling rat!"

Midnight growled low in his throat and crumpled the paper in his hand into a ball. He had finally figured out why Dean Thomas seemed so frightened and skittish around him. It didn't confuse him that Thomas was scared of him—he should be —but his behaviour of lately was absurd. Though as the mail owls flew down towards eager Prophet Readers the answer to the Mudblood's behaviour was quickly answered: Dean Thomas had fucked up royally, he had open his big mouth…

He was going to kill him. He was going to kill him slowly, with patient, lots of pain, horror and agony.

He was going to die, a most slowly, painful, horror filled and agonic death...

Dean Thomas was a walking corpse.

A dead silly little boy.

A doomed child.

A marked kid.

And Midnight's permanent victim.

It had been five days since his sorting into Slytherin, and everything had been going so well. No one bugged him, Blaise and Malfoy ignored that he ignored them. His teachers thought nothing more of him other than he was a smart kid, and everything had been going perfectly to his plan and liking. Had he mentioned that no one bugged him? Well, not directly; everyone bugged him. Their laughter, smiles, glances, looks, questions and whispering, it all bugged him. But they— thank the powers— hadn't felt the need to go up to him yet and nag to him about this and that like he was suppose to give a damn…Well, he didn't, and was very grateful for the space everyone was giving him.

And when everything was going so well, the small fucker Thomas had to destroy his day, week, month, etc…who knew how long the effect of that stupid boy's act would last?

Midnight liked to be up to date on the going ons in the wizarding world, so he subscribed the Daily Prophet. The paper was not initially politically correct, but he didn't care, and besides, Rita Skeeter amused him. Nothing was better for breakfast then some Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge bashing.

But today he wasn't looking through the paper with his usually reserved attitude. Today something had gone horribly wrong. Because today it was his glaring emerald eyes that were looking back at him from the front page, not Dumbledore's twinkling orbs or even Minister Fudge's irritating brown ones. Today's eyes where dark green, slithered and glaring.

¤¤Well…the picture could have been worse. I look smashing of course….¤¤

Fuck! Who was he kidding? This was horrible! He looked sharp, evil and dark, glaring at the readers of today's Daily Prophet, which was cool, but ¤¤Fucking hell!¤¤ this was totally destroying his corruption plan for the Hogwarts staff!

He had the plan mostly figured out. He was going to make himself look like god's given child when faced with his Professors and for the most part not give a damn about what the other students thought. As long as the Professors thought him good and peaceful, the student body could be terrified of him for all he cared. As long as the Professors liked him, his existence was safe. He knew the plan would have taken time and lots of effort, but it wasn't impossible. He had done it at St. Paul, he could surely do it again. With his experience and skills on the field of acting, manipulation and corruption it would all work in the end, he would, like before, conquer this school. He would own it and rule it, it would be his…

Well, that was the plan at least, before his glaring snake eyes decorated the most sold newspaper in the British wizarding world.


He would have to think of something else now, a new, more time-consuming and daring plan…God damn it, he would slay that snivelling Gryffindor!

Oh, he knew very well how his face ended on the front page, how his past got written page up and down, 6 whole pages including comments, pictures and quotes…Nothing from his days at St. Paul was hidden…inside information, rumours and speculations going around the school. Everything a student of St. Paul could possibly know was in the Prophet. Everything a victim of the Feared could have experienced was here, in the paper, for all to see, and it could seriously fuck things up for Midnight.

So, of course the one who leaked the information had to be hunted down. Well, not hunted per se, Midnight already knew who did it, of course. He wasn't slow after all…

Dean Thomas, the whimpering, shivering and skittish Gryffindor was the offending party, the guilty one, the stupid silly fuck that had thought he could get away with this without consequences. A dead silly little boy. A doomed child. A marked kid. Midnight's permanent victim. The Boy Who Was Spared's new torture toy…

Midnight just didn't' understand how the kid could be so dumb; didn't he realize that Midnight would know it was him behind the information? Was he that naive and dull? That Gryffindorish?

Of course the little shit must have told some of his little Gryffindor buddies the story. Maybe he thought it would make him popular, liked even… But it hadn't been Thomas that had gone to the paper, the kid didn't' have the guts to do something like this. Besides it wouldn't be beneficial for him, what could he gain but a royal beating from Midnight? Fame, popularity? What was fame for a dead kid?

He was probably sitting at the Lion table right now, whimpering in fright…of course the prick hadn't figured his little gossip party could end up like this…all his inside information smeared on the cover of the most popular paper in Britannia. Oh Midnight could nearly taste the boy's fear. He was an ex-victim; he knew what Midnight could do to him. But now he also knew that his worst fear was a powerful wizard too. The Potter heir, The Boy Who Was Spared and a Slytherin…he knew this couldn't end well.

He would get his, Midnight would see to that.

The Potter heir turned around to glance at the Lions. He's back was turned towards them, it was not like he usually wanted to look at them when he ate. All the smiling red children would surely get him to lose his appetite.

His eyes — today red and green, a deep red ring around the iris — swept down on the first years at the friendly table and sorted out his new toy. Thomas, stupid enough, had placed himself in the direct view of Midnight. ¤¤So he didn't know anyone one of his mates had leaked the story to the press…¤¤ The boy felt eyes on him and looked up to meet the Slytherin's cold red and green ones. Midnight couldn't hear it, but he saw it quite clearly; The Gryffindor was whimpering and shivering under his intense stare. He knew the minute he saw the paper that he was doomed, his fate was sealed the minute he decided it wouldn't hurt to tell his little roomies a horror story about the famous Harry Potter.

Midnight sneered at him and ignored him for the time being. Right now he was hunting down the stupid geezer who gave his story to the press. He or she would have to get theirs too, Midnight wasn't niggardly with his torture, and there were lots to go around. His eyes left Thomas and swept down the red and gold table. The person he was looking for was probably in first to third year. Midnight doubted anyone older had stayed around to hear what a whimpering first year had to say. No, the fucker had to be young. His eyes searched for a person with a stupid proud grin, smirk or smile on his or hers face. The person must be pretty proved of him/herself. The paper had just come by owl post 15 minutes ago, but it was already a well known story. Everyone was suddenly experts on Midnight's background, his past and persona. The person would surely be holding the paper, holding his trophy and showing it to people around him that didn't have the Prophet. Everyone deserved to see his/hers masterpiece after all.

Midnight saw three possible guilty ones, one second year girl, and two first year boys. The boys might just even have worked together, they were grinning so much Midnight thought their faces might split any minute now. The Slytherin tried to catch the three Lion's eyes so that he could possibly read them, some people wore their emotion on their sleeves after all.

The Girl, second year, light brown wavy hair and grey eyes, had been smirking with poorly hidden satisfying triumph since the paper came flying, but the moment her eyes meet Midnight's cold red/green once she froze and shrunk a bit. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his though, and he could easily read her. She probably thought the story in the paper was highly amusing and was pleased that the arrogant Slytherin, any Slytherin really, was getting his dark past uncovered. Though she was not the one who had leaked the story. That person would be too proud, not stupid enough to shrink away like she did. No the offending party would meet his eyes and smirk, thinking they got one on him, and not realizing they had sealed their death.

He would keep an eye on her though, she could cause trouble later on.

He couldn't get eye contact with the first years though, they were too consumed with each other, talking, whispering and snickering ¤¤Snickering like two school girls¤¤. But even if he couldn't read them he was still positive they were the ones he was looking for. Or one of them was at least. He couldn't tell which of them it was for sure, or if they had worked together, but he would find out soon. All he had to do was confront them, question them and see if they were lying. Ignorant children like them couldn't possibly know how to hide their emotions. They would probably give him all the clues of their guilt just by looking over at him.

He could, of course, go over to them now, but he didn't wish to cause too much of a scene. He was already in the spotlight, he didn't need more attention to his persona then he had at the moment.

God…what were the Professors thinking about him now? Were they confused? Angry? Sad? Feeling fool? Betrayed? Tricked? Curious? Would they ever trust him again? Could he still manage to fool them now that they knew his strategy?

He shook his head, angry at himself for doubting his skills. Yes, he could do this. Of course he could do this, he was Midnight, the leader of the Feared Four. He was The Boy Who Was Spared, he was a Slytherin, he could do anything!

All he had to do was to come up with a new plan and strategy. Too bad that was easier said then done…¤¤Hmm…this might turn out to be a real challenge.¤¤

Midnight folded out his newspaper neatly and stashed it away before he looked calmly over to his companions. Blaise and Malfoy were reading the paper and looking over at him every five seconds to try to come up with something to say. Blaise looked less surprised than Malfoy of course, but he still hadn't gotten a clue why their St. Paul days were smeared all over the morning paper. Malfoy, the sorry crud, was nearly gaping at Midnight; his eyes had gone comically large halfway through the article.

¤¤Well, well, this trio thing might just not be too bad. I could make Blaise and the human-glue figure out a new plan for me. It would be a neat test for Malfoy. If he can somewhat come up with a decent plan and solution to this annoying problem, he might just be worth keeping… ¤¤Yes I'll do that. I'll make them put their heads together and come up with a solution while I'll concentrate on my toys. My brain will also get a break from all their annoying nagging…¤¤

"Um…Midnight? How'd this happen, mate?" Blaise finally spoke up.

Midnight, who'd gone back to calmly eating his breakfast, spared him a look while he munched on a cupcake.

"Eight. Dorm, later." Was all he said to his friend as he put down the cupcake and poured himself some pumpkin juice.

Blaise and Malfoy said, "Okay." And "What?" at the same time, but Midnight didn't pay them any mind as he thought back on the front picture of him. It really was a good picture…

¤¤Wonder where they got it from, and if they still have it…?¤¤

The first year Slytherin boys' dorm, 4 pm.

"Can anyone explain to me what the fuck is going on!"

Draco Malfoy wasn't as collected as he would like to be at the moment. He didn't understand what was happening around him. It had only been six days but he had still gotten two new friends, well one of them as a companion at best. Everything was going well, the Professors praised him, the students avoided him—though Midnight and Blaise might be the reason for that, they were a bit creepy when they wanted to, especially Midnight. That boy even gave him the creeps… — and the Gryffindors were acting strange around his trio, but that didn't concern him awfully much.

At this moment he was stamping around in his dorm trying to come to term with everything that had happen before and what he knew about his new friends.

Blaise had told him about St. Paul, that the two of them had gone there together and been best friends since Blaise came to the school in Midnight's second year. He had been told about Mack and Kyle too, but this Feared Four business…! What the fuck was that, why hadn't they told him about that? This was important!

He had nearly spit out his pumpkin juice all over the Slytherin table that morning when he met with Midnight's cold green glaring eyes instead of Dumbledore's or Fudge's usual ones. The weekly crud Skeeter articles about them were the sole reason he read the politically incorrect paper after all. But today something was different, today there was an article about Midnight, the Boy Who Was Spared, his new friend, and that wasn't too good, for either of them.

Blaise had joined him in reading the article about Midnight as soon as he saw who was on the cover. He hadn't said a word throughout the six pages, just looked over to his friend a couple of times to see if he got any reaction. Draco had done the same, but the front page boy only gave them one reason to think he actually cared. Midnight had read quietly and calmly through the paper before he growled low in his throat, "I'm going to kill that snivelling rat!" and crumpled the paper in his hand into a ball. After that he had gone cold again, and only turned around to look over to the Lions table. Draco figured Midnight knew a bit more about the offending party behind the article than him.

"If you can shut the fuck up for one second then I might just manage to tell you what the fuck is going on." Midnight sneered back at the blond. Draco shut his mouth it a snap and sat down besides Blaise on dark haired boy's bed. Midnight was in his own bed facing Draco and Blaise.

"Well. I'm sure I don't have to tell you about our roles at St. Paul…" Midnight addressed Draco and pointed between himself and Blaise. Draco just nodded his head. He had many questions, but they could wait, right now he had the basic information and knowledge of their past at St. Paul.

"Good." Midnight turned away from Malfoy and met eyes with Blaise. "I had planned to do the same here at Hogwarts as we did at St. Paul, no need to lower one's goal just because the task is a bit more difficult right…? I had it all figured out, more or less. We were going to win the Professors over to our side by being smart, skilled, talented and respectful. It would be difficult since they know who I am—the Boy Who Was Spared isn't the best mark one can carry around—but it isn't impossible, we just have to be more careful and manipulating. What the student body think of us I don't give a shit, but it would work best if we had a low profile at first. We can't hope to lure the Professors if the student goes to them from day one and tell of horror stories about the mean Slytherins… when we had the professors under us, we could do what ever we pleased.

"I'm sure you know what I'm talking about Malfoy, just like everybody else in this fucking school that can read and listen to gossip…! And here lays the new and quite annoying problem: Everyone, student and professor, now knows our tactic, our strategy and our plan. Well, they don't know we plan to do the same here, but most of them aren't stupid, they will figure it out as soon as we start…"

Midnight brought a hand up to his hair and dragged it threw with an annoyed expression.

"Do you know who leaked it?" Draco asked, and both Blaise and Midnight snorted and sneered, "Thomas." Draco didn't know who this 'Thomas' person was, but he kept quiet about his lake of knowledge when Blaise spoke up.

"Dean fucking Thomas! I didn't know the rat had it in him, he always seemed like one submitted bottom to me."

"Oh, he his." Midnight corrected him. "He is one extremely dead and stupid bottom. He wasn't the one to bring in the press, but he is the leak. He probably thought it wouldn't kill him to tell his little Gryffindor pals a horror story about the Feared Four. He knew us and our methods so well after all, being a regular victim and all…"

"Let's get him real good, Midnight. I want him to suffer for the rest of his seven years here!" Blaise snarled in a rare moment of rage and uncontrolled emotion. Draco thought it as a good sign that he was finally taken into the heat, though at the moment it felt a bit too warm. Was it a wise move to get involved with these two? They were at bit loony weren't they..?

"Oh don't you worry, Blaise darling, he'll get his. But not right now, this'll have to calm down for some days; we can't do anything too public right now. One more public scene and the battle is lost. Let's just lay low and plan a new approach on this. I won't give up so easy."

Blaise nodded his head to Midnight words. The green-eyed boy looked over to Draco and the blond soon found himself nodding along with Blaise. It probably wasn't the best move to make, placing himself under their wings, but it would be an even less wise move to back off now. If Midnight's plan worked out Draco would rather be on their team. The stories of horror and angst from the two boys' victims that decorated the Prophet wasn't too appealing at the moment.

"Good. Now I want you two to bring your heads together and help me come up with a new and better plan. I'm going to use some days to find out which of the Gryffindors who leaked the story to the press. I have two first year boys in sight; it's either one or both of them. You two will lay low and scheme while I'll bring in and discipline some new toys for us."

Midnight looked at them again, waiting for their nods, which came faster now. Midnight gave them a sadistic grin and nodded to himself. Said goodbye and went to find a book about illusion curses in the library. Why not have some fun while he hunted down his new toys?

"The person who leaked the story and Thomas, is not going to survive are they?" Draco quietly asked Blaise as he looked at Midnight's retreating back. The boy scared him sometimes. His eyes were really frightening when he was angry, and his magic seeped out of his whole being in heated, powerful waves.

Blaise looked over at Draco and grinned evilly. "Oh, they'll survive all right, killing doesn't usually go down too well with the Ministry, but they will surely hope they didn't survive… Midnight can be a real cruel and scary sadist at times. Why, I remember one time, back in out fifth year at St. Paul. This one guy was getting on Midnight's nerves, always following him around and trying to become chummy with Midnight. And let me tell you, Midnight don't do chummy…The guy figured that out too, but only after spending two months in coma and three months in rehabilitation suffering from nightmares and mental problems, brain damage and twelve broken bones. Midnight didn't take the blame of course, he made another victim take the blame…" Blaise smiled pleasantly in memory.

"Shit…" was all Draco could think of.

"Oh don't worry." Blaise explained further, "The guy who took the blame was grateful for it, one year in the juvenile hall was much better then the pain Midnight promised him if he didn't do it. Everybody else knew that it was Midnight who had done the kid in, of course; his good mood and pleasant grin days after the 'accident' spoke for itself...

Ah, there we are folks. Nice and long…

Was it up to standard or should I crawl under a stone and die?

Do review if you:

have any opinion of your own.

would like to yell at me.

would like to praise me.

have questions.

can write.

didn't understand shit.

think I'm revolting.

feel the need to comment on anything.

think I should stop writing this.

feel annoyed at me right now.

would like to kill me.

thing I would like a huge.

think Draco is getting to little attention from Midnight.

hate Harry's new name.

think I should kill some characters soon.

would like to see Snape naked.

want some sex scenes.

have any ideas you would like me to use.

are sugar high and hyper.

are bored.