Sure, Harry was worried about his own safety, but in all honesty, that was nothing new. In other occasions he would also be worried for his friends, other Hogwarts' students, some teachers, and the list goes on.

But now, as if to add to the personal cycle of his sugar and rainbow filled life, he had to worry about all of Walker High.

The witch hunter's had said they were only after the wizards, but of course, anyone who got in their way would also suffer a fatal death. They may even blow up the whole school if they had to. He could see it written in Mr. Gled's bloodthirsty gaze.

While Mr. Quinn might be the leader, Harry could tell he listened to everything Gled said. Cole's dad had the final say, as any leader does, but Gled was the one really pulling the strings.

He could easily convince him to set fire to a measly high school. No problem.

He tried not to let those thoughts penetrate him too deep as he focused on the rest of the meeting.

All he heard were unknown names, list of other witch hunters in Europe. Contacting them would be a piece of cake, but they needed a set date when all could be present for the attack. Near the end of October seemed to be around the time, though Harry didn't have an exact date. The witch hunters would agree on one later, possibly another meeting.

The attack day would be unknown for now. It could be any day this month. He had to be prepared.

Meanwhile, Gled was jotting down notes on a sheet of paper. Mr. Quinn had told him and Cole to outline the 'Harry Potter abduction plan'.

Mr. Gled barely wrote anything. As far as Harry could tell by his smug look, he already had the perfect masterplan step by step in his head. He whispered what Harry assumed was the plan to Cole.

The teen nodded glumly.

Observing two people plot his demise wasn't helping his nerves in the slightest. Beads of sweat on Harry's forehead as he awaited the death sentence.

Mr. Quinn took notice of the lack of work between the two and spoke up.

"Finished already?"

Gled smirked confidently. "It wasn't too hard. When you know your enemy's weakness, the rest is simple."

Weakness?

He didn't like the sound of that.

Mr. Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Go on," he said, expectantly.

"Well," Gled began. "By what Cole has gathered from the lab, but most of all, from my past knowledge of this young wizard, he has a peculiar complex."

Mr. Quinn didn't seem to understand what he meant, but waited for him to continue.

"During all of Harry Potter's years at witchcraft school he can be found in the center of trouble. However, he's never been so much the cause of as he is the supposed hero."

"How so?" one of the members asked. It was the only woman at the table. She had a long nose and narrow eyes. She looked more like an actual witch than anyone at Hogwarts, minus the formal clothing. Her voice was both high-pitched and raspy, just like the stereotyped witch.

Mr. Gled noticed the skeptical look on her face and answered. "First year," Gled looked at Mr. Quinn. "Harry Potter saved a valuable object from being stolen, followed by his second year when he rescued a missing witch along with killing a giant dragon-like snake which massacred a couple cold-bloods."

Cold-bloods ? Harry guessed it was a good payback for calling muggles mud-bloods. Still, even though they were witch hunters, he flinched at the insult.

"Just last year, he won a famous witch tournament, needlessly saving other competitors."

The woman drummed her fingers impatiently. "You're point, Gledrick?"

Harry covered his mouth in order not to laugh at the ridiculous name. Cole did the same.

Gled glared at Cole and went to the grain. "We can conclude that the young Cold-blood will save anyone at any time in order to be the hero. I can assume even more so if it's someone he cares for. "

Mr. Gled faced the table. "We get our hands on that someone and Potter will walk straight into our trap."

Before he could continue, Mr. Quinn interrupted. "We can't kidnap a single witch just yet. There aren't enough of us. The Cold-bloods would destroy us!"

Gledrick held up a finger to silence the table. "I never mentioned anything about taking a witch hostage."

He looked at Cole, signaling for him to continue.

Cole looked around the table, for the first time, visibly nervous. He had that same indistinguishable look Harry had seen in history class. Now he knew its meaning.

The teen looked at his father as Harry had looked at Snape his first year; fearful and unsure.

"I can't," Cole whispered.

"What was that?" his father asked, eyeing him impatiently.

"I can't," Cole said. "It doesn't feel right."

His father drummed his fingers on the table. "And why is that?"

"The documents in the lab... they said that Harry Potter fights against Voldemort. They said...he's good."

Cole's fear for what his father would say was evident, though his uncertainty was just a bit stronger.

Why would his father lie to him? The witches had to be evil. And Harry Potter was the worst of the all, right?

Harry could almost hear the internal battle raging in his head by just staring him in the eyes. He was wondering the same thing too. Why would Cole's father lie to him? If he had all this information about Harry's past, it meant he knew the truth. There was no logic reason for him to be hunting wizards, especially him.

"This is why I forbade you to go in the lab. You'll fill your head with false nonsense." His father spat. "Harry Potter good? Please. Do you honestly believe that any witch powerful enough to murder a full grown sorcerer when they're only a baby would use his powers for good?"

Cole shook his head slightly. There was still doubt in his eyes. His father saw it too.

"Need I remind you what they've done, Cole?" Mr. Quinn said threateningly.

Cole's head snapped up. It was as if that one sentence had taken all the doubt in his mind. His fists clenched in anger and his eyes burned with hatred.

"Sorry," he said. "You're right."

Whatever glimmer of hope Harry had of Cole somehow stopping this devious plot vanished.

The teen dug into his back pack and pulled out three folders. They looked just like the ones that contained Amber's records. He bit his lip nervously, knowing who's they were.

"Mike Harris," he said as held up the first one. "Darren Miller, and Linda Nguyen."

His lips twitched into an evil smile. Cole sounded just like his father as he said the chilling words that would haunt Harry more than any threat ever would.

"The way to Harry Potter is through his friends."

* * *

Harry could've hexed him right then and there if it hadn't been for the other people in the room. He was both infuriated and scared. How could Cole do that? Hunting them was one thing, but to steal the student records and endanger innocent teens?

The meeting ended with them deciding to kidnap one of Harry's friends. They were sure the hero would come rescue them. It was true.

All those nightmares he had were coming true.

His friends were in danger because of him.

"Why not kidnap that Amber girl?" one member asked. "I'll wager she knows more about the witches than those three."

Cole shook his head. "She's probably more of a disposable tool to them. Harry probably wouldn't waste his time on her."

Harry clenched his fist, unsure of why that made him so angry; it was true, wasn't it?

The members left one by one, including Cole's father.

Harry wasn't sure where he was headed to at this hour of the night, but he didn't have much time to think on it.

Cole was halfway up the stairs when a loud honking noise could be heard outside. The witch hunter stopped in his tracks, as did the gang who were only inches away from the door.

Harry knew most of the witch hunters were too far to have made the noise. It had to be Amber's car.

She may be a cheerleader, but she wasn't stupid. There was no way she would risk giving them away unless she was in real trouble.

Cole climbed down the stairs, nearing himself to the front window next to the door. Harry wasn't completely sure if the Dillusionment charm was still in place, but wasn't about to risk the witch hunter spotting their car.

Unzipping his back pack, he pulled out some of the knockout gas bombs Dean and Seamus had given them.

Harry always wondered what they smelled like, but he figured he could ask Cole when he woke up. That is, if his head hitting the wood floor didn't cause permanent damage.

They weren't too far from the car (which was now completely visible) before the doors automatically unlocked. Once inside Amber slammed her foot on the gas.

In the backseat Hermione attempted to wake up Ron who'd inhaled a bit of the knock out gas. At any other time this would've been a comical situation, but like Harry, she was tense from the news.

The atmosphere outside seemed as though it wanted to match their mood. Rain poured down on the car windows, and the nearby sound of thunder signaled a lovely night.

Harry began to open his mouth to ask why she'd honked, but Amber cut in.

"There was a man watching me," she said, straining to see through the rain filled windshield. "I only noticed him minutes after the other cars left, but I think he'd been there before that."

"He wasn't a witch hunter?" Hermione questioned, shaking the red head gently.

Amber shook her head "He looked more like armed hobo."

"You mean you nearly got us caught because an armed homeless guy was stalking you?"

The cheerleader tightened her grip on the wheel and sighed loudly. "I thought you magic folk were smarter," she laughed shakily.

Not in the mood to start a fight with the muggle, they waited for her to continue.

"Don't you understand?" She said. "I was invisible, and he still saw me."

*****

Sleep was out of the question that night. Harry stared at the ceiling until the sound of chirping birds signaled a decent time to be out and about the halls.

Ron had slept just fine thanks to the gas.

Out of all the things that they learned about recently like Mr. Short's kidnap, the attack on the school, the kidnapping of his friends, to the strange old man who saw through the spell, the one thing that was bothering Harry the most was Cole.

From what he could tell in the meeting yesterday, Cole had more than traditional witch hunting reason behind his actions.

The way doubt had crossed his mind just before Mr. Quinn had convinced him otherwise.

'Need I remind you what they've done?' Cole's father had said.

Something had changed inside Cole just then. If Harry could just fit the pieces together he could possibly stop the attack before it was too late.

The young witch hunter was their biggest link to them. A simple student inside the school with access to records and constant surveillance of the wizards.

Getting him on their side might just be the solution to everything.

The halls weren't as empty as Harry expected them to be.

A couple students could be seen in just about every hall, putting up Halloween decorations and posters.

He spotted Emily and Andrew doing the same to the entrance hall of the cafeteria.

As he got closer he noticed the odd tittle printed on each of the posters.

"Wicca Wonderland?" he asked.

"This year's Halloween ball theme," Emily answered cheerfully. Harry wondered how one person could be that happy this early in the morning.

At least Andrew and him were on the same page. The teen yawned as he pasted another crooked poster on the wall.

"The entire dance committee decided to have it based on the Wicca movie."

"Wonderful," Harry mumbled.

Andrew didn't hear him over his next yawn.

Harry waved goodbye to Emily and walked inside the cafeteria.

He did a bit of a double take when he spotted Amber sitting alone in the corner. Only about two other people were up at this hour, and he was sure a girl like Amber prioritized 'beauty sleep'.

"Couldn't sleep?" Harry guessed as he sat next to her.

She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, having been only seconds away from snoozing off with her face in the plate of oatmeal.

Her eyes had visible dark circles under them as they shifted nervously to Harry's face, undeniably recovering from a nightmare.

It wasn't too bad in Harry's opinion. That was his face most morning.

"Is it that noticeable?"

"Yeah," Harry paused, feeling he'd given the wrong answer. "I mean no! You look the same as usual."

Amber glared at him.

Idiot, Harry thought.

The tired look on Amber's face plus the accidental morning insult made him feel somewhat guilty for his next request.

"I need you to change the rooming arrangements of some students," Harry said.

Amber eyed him curiously, half expecting for him to explain the reason.

"I need you to put Hermione with Linda, Me with Darren, and Mike with Ron," Harry told her with no further explanation.

"Change rooming arrangements?" She said to herself. "That'll be a tough one."

"Can you?" Harry asked.

Amber nodded. "Planning to tell me why? What happened in the meeting? Or am I too much of a mudblood for you to care enough to?"

Harry stared at her, speechless. He didn't have to ask who's called her a mudblood.

The teen wasn't sure how to respond. He wanted to tell her she wasn't one, that Malfoy was just a jerk, but what good would that do? It could ruin everything.

Treating her nicely could raise her suspicion. The fear could be lost.

Then again, was fear really controlling her anymore? Harry didn't doubt she feared Malfoy. Every day he saw the petrified expression on her face when Draco held her hand, sat next to her, or spoke to her.

But was she really afraid of Harry anymore?

She feared what the magic could do to her if at the hands of the wrong person (Draco). Harry wasn't entirely sure he was on that list anymore. It was probably only the thrill of discovering magic that kept her on their side at the moment.

"You can find all that out at the meeting tomorrow."

"What meeting?"

"The D.A meeting," Harry answered. "You'd be the first muggle to attend one."

She paused unsure of the new nickname. Deciding it was better than mudblood, she smiled at him.

They stayed in silence for a couple minutes before Harry finally got the question he'd been expecting.

"So, about the broomstick ride..."

With all that was happening, Harry only managed a dark laugh. "Tell you what; if I survive the month, I'll let you keep my broom."

'To add to the list of people rooting for my death'