Life was getting difficult lately. Laurette was currently restocking some of her supplies from the potion’s stores while thinking about all the things that had happened recently. In a way, she was relieved that someone finally knew there was more going on between the Heads than constant bickering. On the other hand… Well, if Fletch ever found out, she was terrified of what he might do to Tobi. Or to her mind. She had a sneaking suspicion that she was missing more than just the memories of her parents, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know about what all she’d lost.

Being the inquisitive mind she was, Laurette knew she’d never rest until she did know what she was missing, though, and that frightened her. What if she was better off not knowing? For some reason she got the feeling she wouldn’t like her brother much once she got to know more of what he had taken from her in the past, and it scared her. She was never scared. This, more than anything, made the French girl want to curl up in a ball and hide from all the worries of the world.

Of course, that wasn’t an option, so the Slytherin reached for the pickled batwings and let out a sigh. She had to be strong and get through whatever was thrown at her. Maybe she could learn to stick up for herself to her brother, and then she could be open about the way she really felt about the Head Boy. That caused even more confusion to flood her system. What would Tobias think when she finally confessed just how hard she’d fallen for him? Would he be mad that she’d still insisted upon both of them having sex with other people constantly? Would he hate that she was so defiled?

She suddenly felt dirty and ashamed, and felt a tear slip down her cheek as she replaced the jar on the shelf and looked through her supplies for the next one to fill. She hadn’t even noticed the door open a bit further and someone slip into the room with her.

Once again Harry had promised to go and talk to Snape, and once again he was wandering the dungeons instead, trying to avoid the encounter. At this point, Harry didn’t even remember what he was supposed to be approaching the evil git about, which made him even more reluctant to actually do it. Hermione that it was important, though which meant she wouldn’t back off. That, in turn, meant Ron wouldn’t back off. Still, until one of them actually marched Harry to Snape’s dungeon office and knocked on the door, he was likely to keep avoiding it.

This time, he had his schoolbag with him and had filled it with all of his potions ingredients, the idea being that he could refill them, and if that didn’t take long enough He ducked into the storeroom, only to almost back out when he realized that there was already someone else messing with the public ingredients. Someone wearing Slytherin green.

Then he realized who it was and paused, everything that had happened the last few days came rushing back at him. Skyler had been so broken the last time that he saw her. Sure, Draco might have been able to put her back together, Harry wasn’t sure. Either way, the breaking had still happened, and it was one more person that Harry had been unable to save. It was one more person that he hadn’t known enough or been strong enough to protect. It was fast becoming clear that the tame spells they were taught in classes and the path of love and acceptance that Dumbledore had preached wasn’t working. It was time to start fighting fire with fire.

He quickly realized that the green in front of him belonged to the Head Girl, one of a handful of students who would actually be able to help him. She also seemed to be crying, which has an entirely different thing unto itself. Harry hadn’t actually been aware that Lebeau had emotions. Still, maybe he could use whatever it was to his advantage and make it easier to get what he wanted.

He cleared his throat to announce his presence, but didn’t wait for LeBeau to acknowledge that he was there. “I would have never thought you could act like an actual person,” he commented calmly. “Anyway, I promise I won’t tell anyone about, well, whatever this is. I wanted to ask you a business question, though.”

Laurette spun around with natural grace, managing to keep the jar she now held in her hand rather than spilling what was probably hundreds of salamander eggs on the dungeon floor. Her wide, dark eyes fell on none other than Harry Potter, the boy who her brother warned her to leave alone. To stay away from. She looked at him with slight fear in those eyes, as he had caught her in a fragile state. Laurette wasn’t used to being in such a state in the first place, let alone being seen falling apart. She didn’t know what to do, and she felt very much like a caged animal, frightened and confused.

“W-what? You aren’t going to say anything? W-why would you be kind to me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “I’ve been nothing but mean to those you hold dear. Hell, if I’d had my way your little mudblood friend would have been in the hospital wing for a week once I was done with her in that duel a little while back…” Perhaps such brutal honesty wasn’t the best idea, but it was how the Head Girl was. She wasn’t going to hide who she was from the boy who now wished to ask something of her.

She straightened herself up, setting the jar on a shelf and running her hands over her uniform to crisp up the pleats in her skirt and smooth out the wrinkles on her blouse. “A business question?” she asked, slender brow raised up into her harsh bangs. “What kind of business could you possibly have with a cold-hearted Slytherin like me? Don’t you know they call me the Head Bitch for a reason?”

Really, she wouldn’t necessarily not help the savior of a Gryffindor. After all, she sure as hell wasn’t following in Fletcher’s footsteps. That meant she had no definite allegiance in whatever war broke out. Laurette was free to offer assistance to whomever she so pleased. That idea was oddly thrilling to the proud girl. “So, what’s your question?”

Harry couldn’t help but grin at the question the spinning dancer greeted him with. Still, it wasn’t his usual cheery one, but rather a cold grin that didn’t make it anywhere near his eyes. Still, he waited for her to finish, working her way up to the business and an entirely unnecessary description of herself. All of it was tied together anyway, so he might as well let her get to the point where it could be easily connected.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, thinking his words through carefully. He had never been all that good at dealing with typical Slytherins without wands coming out before the end, and the Head Girl would leave him lying broken on the floor in a duel. That was what made her so much more attractive than the other options he could have gone to for this. Well, that and the fact that she probably had instructions not to actually hurt him, thanks to her brother, and she would actually follow them. Most of his other choices were likely to “accidentally” kill him and tell his friends it was part of the plan.

“I’m not being kind,” he finally acknowledged with a small shrug of his head. “But if Hermione wants to get herself knocked out in a fight that she didn’t actually need to fight, maybe she’ll learn to stop doing that. We have quite enough fights that actually have to be fought, or that we don’t have a choice in, going on.”

He sighed, trying to figure out if this was actually the right thing to do. Not that there was anything he could really do about it this far in. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. Well, not Hermione, the fights.

The Gryffindor decided to give himself one more chance to back out if he needed to before he dove right in. Skyler would kill him if he got into it with the Head Girl and she killed him, after all. “I know you’ve heard about me as a fighter, everyone has. If I told you I wanted Bellatrix Lestrange in a fair duel tomorrow, what would your first reaction be?” That ought to give him all the information that he needed, hopefully without giving too much away.

Laurette held her tongue while the Gryffindor spoke, finding it rather interesting that he wasn’t going to defend his foolish friend for the fight she’d pretty much started. The Head Girl made it a point to always get the other person going before she struck, so she could always get away with the fights she got involved in. Self-defense was a claim she made too many times to count.

His question had her laughing loudly without being able to control it. But really, taking on Bellatrix Lestrange? That was ridiculous! That witch would play him like a fiddle until he became just another broken toy in her dusty toy box. She opened her mouth to explain herself to the Potter boy, but all that came out was a spurt of giggles, which made her quickly close her lips and slap a hand over her mouth. She simply had to get herself under control. This was just ridiculous.

With a calming breath, Laurette steadied herself and focused on the younger boy again. “Potter, you cannot be serious. First off, that banshee does not believe in ‘fair’. Second, you wouldn’t stand a bloody chance! Your signature spell is a disarmer! She doesn’t believe in fighting anyone on fair grounds, and she uses the darkest magic you’ll ever see. Unlike the ‘dark loser’ you are used to facing, Bellatrix is a much more dangerous monster than anyone you’ve ever faced. She isn’t afraid of killing people, especially you. And unlike the rest of his followers, I don’t think she’s too worried about the punishment he’d deal her for getting rid of your naïve little ass.”

Laurette looked at him with curious eyes, focusing on the way he seemed so determined to ask her things even though he looked rather terrified of her. She could appreciate that. “Alright, Potter. You’re intelligent at least, I’ll give you that. Foolhardy and too brave for your own good, but you’ve got at least a bit of a brain. So what do you actually want? You aren’t even close to capable of facing Lestrange right now, so that’s off the table.”

She tapped a toe impatiently, waiting for him to finally tell her exactly what this ‘business question’ he had was. She was sure it wasn’t just about Bellatrix after all, and she was a busy girl. “Spill.”

She was laughing at him. She was actually bloody laughing at him, and doing it hard, like he had just told the world’s funniest joke. He restrained himself from attacking her or saying something that she would quickly make him regret, but only barely. Instead, he tried to decide exactly what he had been expecting while the laughter faded to giggling and then finally came to a stop.

“That is the business thing, well kind of,” he said bluntly and honestly. “I’m tired of being seen as weak and little. I’m tired of being seen as not a threat to the big guns. I’m tired of being bound to a set of rules that my enemies aren’t.” His breathing was getting irregular as his voice became more passionate, and it would be a minor miracle if no one walked up and interrupted this weird little meeting. “And I am bloody sick,” he fumed, “of my signature spell being something that is a defensive tool best used to run away from a fight. I want to be able to deal a proper amount of damage.”

Harry stopped, a little bit shocked with himself. He had not intended for it to come out that angry, even if both the words and the emotions were true. He had been doing a better job of keeping himself in check finally, but apparently Parkinson carving his Skyler up like she was some kind of dinner had pushed him right back over the edge. Still, he forced himself to calm back down. Anger here would only push LeBeau away, and that would do him no good.

“Look, it’s clear from talking to you that you have no love lost for Voldemort and his followers,” he paused, expecting a flinch or a swear or something. Generally his followers and their families treated the name with greater care than even his enemies did. When he was met instead with another giggle, he grinned a mischievous grin and continued. “You also clearly know exactly the kind of magic and dueling that I’m talking about.” Even without what happened with Hermione, Harry would know of other examples, but in truth besting his incredibly intelligent friend was impressive, and what set her apart in his mind from a lot of other snakes.

“What would it take for you to tutor me in dueling and the Dark Arts one on one and not say a word to anyone else?” he asked in the same blunt tone as before. When it came to business and lives, Harry Potter was not one to mess around.

This boy just kept throwing out words that made her giggle. Voldemort! The bloody coward! He hid behind his hounds all the time, and she would never be such a fool to ‘follow’ him like her brother did. The thought of the scarred boy taking out the scum of all Dark Wizards made her grin, looking rather crazy. It would be kind of nice to have him out of this world. Let a new ‘Dark Lord’ take his place. Things would at least get a bit more interesting.

Laurette thought about his question and a cruel smile grew across her face. “I can appreciate your desire to become a stronger wizard, boy. And I can appreciate your interest in darker magic. However,” she paced toward him, looking him in the eye. “I don’t know if you can handle the kind of spells it would take to be prepared for the kind of fight you seem to intend to get into.”

The girl thought about what it would take for her to train him. She wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted from him. Perhaps she could manage to get the ‘hero’ here to help her get back some of the things Fletch had taken years ago? He had been seen spending time with the Riddle girl before, which meant he probably already had some idea that there was more to Laurette than met the eye, but was she ready to expose that part of herself?

“There might be a way I can get you up to par, but you will have to work very hard. You can’t complain. You’ll be sore. And you’ll want to have someone with good healing spells ready to patch you up after our sessions. I break toys, but I don’t put them back together.” She wiggled her hips as she thought for a moment, then finally let out a deep breath and decided to go for it.

“I will help you on one condition. You do your hero thing or whatever it is and figure out a way to get my memories back.” Her dark eyes were intense, telling the boy not to question her more than was strictly necessary. She didn’t want to tell him too much just yet, but she understood that he needed more than that to go off of. “My brother is a skilled obliviator. He stole from me and I want what’s mine back. I will warn you, though, he is very dangerous. He taught me everything I know.”

The grin that seemed to be the first answer to his question made Harry a little bit nervous. He thought he was good enough at shields to prevent the Head Girl from killing him if she decided that was a fun idea, but he wasn’t really confident enough to bet on it, or to tell anyone who might stop him what was going on.

Still, he listened very carefully to everything that she was saying, thinking about it as he went along. “I can assure you,” he finally responded, “that I am entirely capable of figuring out anything that you are willing to teach me. I’m not scared of hard work, I’m not afraid of pain, and I don’t whine when things are going against me. If you don’t believe me, check this out, and figure out how many people in the castle actually know what it is.” With that he held up the hand that still bore the faint scars from his detentions with the Toad last year. He could count the people who would recognize them on two hands, but just one if you took out the two people who participated actively in the detentions.

“I can find someone who won’t ask questions to heal me, too.” Harry got the sense that Skyler was probably at least as good at healing spells, so if she was still completely committed to what they were doing, she would be right there. If not her, Hermione could certainly heal him, though the odds of her not asking too many questions were really small. If all else failed, Felicity was basically a trained healer already and he could just tell her that he would never mention Sirius to her again if she blabbed.

He smirked a little bit as she danced a little while she was thinking. She might be a little bit psychotic, but she definitely looked good doing that. Not that he would be stupid enough to actually try and touch her. The smirk only grew wider as she mentioned wanting him to use his hero thing. From anyone else it would have probably been a grimace, but hearing a supposedly coldblooded Snake tell him to be a hero was amusing.

The smirk didn’t fade, but his eyes did grow a little bit worried when she finished. What she was asking sounded like it would be almost impossible. Still, he extended his hand to her to shake. “That sounds like an excellent deal. When do we start?” Harry specialized in making the impossible happen, after all.

Well, he wasn’t getting scared off. Potter had a healer- or at least he had options. That meant she could do her worst and he wouldn’t have any excuses. She wasn’t going to go easy on the boy, either. If he wanted to face someone like Bellatrix Lestrange, then she was going to put him through hell to prepare him for it. She’d be damned if his potential failure could be blamed on her not training him hard enough.

Laurette daintily shook his hand, using just her fingers. “We’ll start… in two days? That way you can do some research first. I will send a book to your dorm by house elf. You’ll find it there late this evening, and I expect you to read as much of it as possible before we meet again.”

She looked at him, waiting for some sort of argument, but it never came. An evil glint lit in her dark eyes and she smiled at the boy. “Room of Requirement. After supper. Two days from now. I will have it in use when you get there, so you need only ask for our training room. You’ll have fifteen minutes to get there from the moment supper ends. If you are late, I will be gone. Understand?”

The girl was quick to the point and ready to bolt now that she had their plans set. As long as he agreed, she was going to run to her dorm and gather her things for a long, hot soak in the prefects’ bath. Maybe she would think of some more exciting spells to teach him while she rested in the water.

She expected him to do reading and research for this before they even started? Harry was barely managing to keep up with the majority of the homework for his actual classes this year, even though he had finally been able to give some of them up. Still, he got the feeling that much like the DA last year, these lessons were far more important than anything he was going to do in lessons this year. He nodded to show that he understood.

He frowned a little bit at the actual meeting part of the agreement. Did everyone in the castle know where and what the Room of Requirement was? When it was introduced to him the previous year, Harry had assumed it was a great secret that even Dumbledore didn’t know about. Now he was beginning to wonder.

Still, he gave another nod to show that he understood. “I’ll see you Sunday evening then, LeBeau. No promises that I’ll have a solution for your problem yet by then, but I’ll at least give it some thought and tell you what I think by then.”

With that he turned on his heel and left. There was so much to do before his life would be back on track, and this was just one step along that path.