Albus Dumbledore was worried. The situation with Harry had become untenable and he had no idea what to do. For the first time in his life, he was out of control.
As he sat at his large wooden desk, he leant back in his chair and sighed. 'How has everything failed to quickly?' He thought nervously. The one thing Albus Dumbledore could be prided upon was the failsafe nature of his planning. He had never failed when he put his mind to it. In the last war, whenever they had suffered a defeat, he had planned a contingency to keep morale high. Whenever there was a death, it was either planned, or known about. The large lists of the dead from the first war were acceptable sacrifices. He had gone as far as to mark the Potters and Longbottoms as acceptable losses – both couples were extremely loyal and hardy fighters. He knew the prophecy would doom one of their children to be the one mentioned, so he set both to be 'marked' in order to fulfil it.
However, for all his contingencies and planning, he had not banked on one thing: the resilience of one Harry James Pot…Gryffindor.
Threading his fingers together, he looked up at the ceiling of his office and pondered. His planning in regards to Harry was deep-rooted. He even went as far as to use the Legilivultus spell on his young mind in order to shape it into something easier to manipulate. 'How could a visit to Gringrotts reveal so much to the boy?' Had the Goblins given him the knowledge of his parents will, or was there something else conspiring against him? He shook his head. 'Who else could there be?' He chuckled to himself. 'Even the Goblin's couldn't know about the full extent of my work.'
He paused his ponderings and picked up a lemon drop from a bag in his pocket. The question still remained, how had Pot… Gryff… Harry found out about his plans? 'It takes one seed to grow a tree of discovery.' He thought. 'All it takes is someone with some poison to kill the seed.' He smiled darkly.
It was simple in metaphors, but how to apply it? Not only had Harry claimed his father's lordship, but he had discovered another two, of the founders no less. After looking through the ministry records, he had located the file on the boy. The name had shocked him: Harry James Potter Ravenclaw Gryffindor. Even Dumbledore had not known about his relationship to the founders – if he had, he would have used it in his favour.
He drummed his fingers melodically on the table surface. At the moment, there was no way he could interfere directly: the ministry was investigating him as were the Goblins. Any attempt to interfere would be used as ammunition against him. The boy had immunity from the need of a magical guardian since he claimed his lordships, meaning his role would have been redundant, even if he were his LEGAL guardian anyway.
For the time being, he would sit back and observe. His plans for the Philosopher's Stone were already in place. All he would have to do is watch Harry slowly put together the pieces of the puzzle and thwart Quirrell.
'Yes, that's it.' He thought, smiling. 'Just sit back and watch. I may have lost the tightness of the reins, but I have not dropped them completely.'
Harry's first few weeks back at Hogwarts were uneventful. He remembered his first week of lessons well, and knew how to improve them by correcting errors and mistakes.
The first useful improvement from the first time round was being able to locate each of their classrooms easily and on time. Harry knew all the foibles of the castle he had come to know and love, and even without the Marauder's Map, he knew the secret passageways like the back of his hand.
One morning, he surprised Hermione, Neville and Susan with his extraordinary knowledge of the castle.
"This is bloody impossible." Neville started over breakfast. "How they expect us to find the classrooms easily I will never know. Those bloody stairs are a menace!" Susan nodded, Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry smiled.
"Don't be like that Nev, its easy when you get into the swing of things. For instance, there are one hundred and forty-two staircases in the castle. Some of these stairs are manipulated by Hogwarts, so you have ones that move frequently and change direction, ones which lead nowhere and I believe there is one with a vanishing stair fifteen steps up." Harry said grinning.
Neville ogled at him in awe while Susan looked gobsmacked. Hermione laughed inwardly, knowing full well his knowledge came from six years living in the castle and three of those owning the map.
Lessons were a big change too. Since they had already learnt it before and studied over the last month before school, many of them were simple for Harry and Hermione. In Transfiguration, Harry and Hermione quickly became the stars of the classroom and often received points for assisting others with the work.
In one of their earlier lessons, Harry realised it was the day he and Ron had been late to McGonagall's lesson. Since the pair weren't friends this time around, Harry got to the lesson on time, and Ron and Seamus were the ones to incur the strict Gryffindor Head's wrath. Having future knowledge of events was extremely useful and the pair used it to avoid mistakes on their friend's parts but laugh at their enemy's failures and errors.
In one of the lessons, the class were tasked with changing a matchstick into a needle. Needless to say, Harry and Hermione managed it the first try, warranting the pleasure of McGonagall and the admiration of their friends Susan and Neville. However, as a side effect, it also incurred the badly disguised jealousy of Ron. In that lesson, the pair was awarded with ten house points each and a rare smile from their strict teacher. Other classes, like Herbology and Astronomy required little effort from the duo, and with their assistance, Neville and Susan often caught up extremely quickly.
Much to the surprise and amusement of Hermione, when it came to Professor Binns' class on History of Magic, Harry was very much awake and scribbling notes frantically even though the majority of the class was fast asleep. After catching Hermione staring he smiled and winked at her.
"It just took practice Hermione."
The only lesson Harry had been nervous about so far was Potions with his least favourite teacher, Professor Snape. He remembered in his class the first time around, the moody potions master had barraged him with a number of unanswerable questions for a student his age (minus Hermione of course) and then deducted points for lacking an answer. This time, however, he knew all the answers to the man's questions. Whether it would change his opinion of him, Harry wasn't sure.
As they sat in the cold, damp and draughty dungeons, Snape swept into the room and with a wave of his wand, a checklist appeared in mid-air. As he read down the list, he paused at Harry's name.
"Ah yes. Harry Potter. Our new celebrity." In the original timeline, this had warranted a snigger from most of the Slytherins, especially Draco. However, this time around, the room was silent. After a brief glance at Malfoy, Harry was surprised to note his ignorance to the jibe. Returning his gaze to the professor, Harry coughed gently, to draw his attention.
"Actually Professor, its Gryffindor. Harry Gryffindor. I would prefer if you would use my correct name, please." Snape looked thoughtful for a moment, before speaking.
"Certainly, Mr Gryffindor, it appears my register was mistaken."
Harry was shocked at the professor's response. No sneer, no arrogance, no derogatory comments. Nothing like the Snape he had known in the original timeline. Moving on from Harry's name, he finished the register and addressed the room.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
The class was silent. Snape had that ability, to command the silence of a room without even speaking a word. The mere power of his presence silenced those less knowledgeable than himself. Suddenly, Snape's gaze snapped to Harry and he spoke.
"Mr Gryffindor, tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
The class looked directly at Harry. No one else had their hands up to answer, even Hermione, having learnt her lesson from the first time around. Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before answering Snape.
"I believe asphodel and wormwood combined in a potion would make a powerful sleeping draught – the Draught of Living Death." Snape looked at him closely before nodding.
"Indeed, that is correct. Let's try another, if I told you to find me a bezoar, where would you look to find it?"
"The bezoar is found naturally in the stomach of a goat, although I assume there would be one in the potions cupboard. They are used as an antidote to most poisons." Snape's face flickered with a faint smile before once again becoming emotionless.
"That is correct, Gryffindor. Last question, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfs-bane?"
"There isn't a difference as far as I'm aware sir. They are the same plant, which is also known as aconite." Snape nodded and looked faintly pleased.
"Again, that is correct Mr Gryffindor. I sincerely hope that most of this class are as knowledgeable as you in this subject." If Harry was shocked then, the next words out of Snape's mouth nearly gave him a heart attack. "Ten points to Gryffindor."
The class were then asked to make a simple potion to cure boils. During this time, Snape swept around the classroom, correcting people and sneering every once in a while, minus Harry, Hermione, Neville and Susan. After they had started theirs brewing, the pair turned to their friends to assist them. At the end of the lesson, the four had a light green coloured potion bubbling gently in their cauldrons. Snape looked them over and nodded.
"Very well done, these are the correct colour and consistency." He turned back to the other students. "Class, fill up a vial from your potion and place it on my desk so I can…" He was interrupted by an explosion and a cloud of acid green smoke began filling the room.
As the smoke cleared, it became obvious that it had been caused by Ron. He stood next to the melted husk of Seamus' cauldron, covered in angry boils and burned robes. Snape sighed loudly and vanished the puddle of potion. One look at Ron, and the potions master snarled.
"Idiot boy! I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire, didn't you?" Ron whimpered, both from the verbal abuse from Snape and the searing potion on his body. Shaking his head, he turned to Seamus. "Take him to the Hospital Wing. And five points from Gryffindor for making a mess in my classroom."
Harry was extremely surprised. In the original timeline, Harry had been berated by Snape continuously, losing many points for his house, and then been blamed when Neville blew up his cauldron. Apparently, since Harry and Hermione had chosen to associate themselves with Neville instead of Ron, he felt more confident and less susceptible to Snape's jeering and insults. Ron, on the other hand, lacking the presence of either Harry or Hermione was a complete imbecile when it came to potions. This made Harry smile.
As they left the classroom, Harry began to speak to Hermione.
"Hermione, what just happened? Snape didn't insult me once and he gave me points – actual points!" Hermione shrugged her shoulders and replied.
"I don't know Harry. Obviously something has changed. Maybe now you have proved you are at least intelligent, he is beginning to like, or at least respect you more." Harry nodded, and the pair went to the library to start their Transfiguration Essay.
The weeks began to fly by and the only issue noticed by Harry was the bubbling jealousy of Ron, who had begun to spread rumours around the castle about him and Hermione. Thankfully, no one paid any attention to these rumours, including Draco, much to the surprise of the pair.
Classes were going particularly well and soon the foursome was competing for the top marks of the year. Of course, Hermione and Harry were first, followed closely by Neville and Susan.
One event which changed for the worse, in Harry's eyes, was their class's first flying lesson. In the original timeline, Neville's broom had gone rogue because of his fear and uncertainty of it resulting in his broken wrist. Draco had then stolen his remembrall and forced Harry to chase him to retrieve it. This had resulted in him being seen by Professor McGonagall and made him the 'youngest Seeker of the century' according to Ron.
This time around, Harry and the gang enjoyed a peaceful flying lesson, with no malfunctioning broom and no rude Malfoy.
Harry stood on the Quidditch Pitch with his fellow Gryffindors and the Slytherins, ready for their first flying lesson. Madam Hooch soon strode onto the pitch and blew her whistle, grabbing their attention.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" She barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!"
Everyone scattered to stand next to one of the tatty old school brooms. Harry looked down at his, noticing the cracked twigs and the scratched handle. He sighed. He really missed his Nimbus 2000.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'UP!'"
Harry held out his hand and looked at the broom. Without waiting for the words to come out of his mouth, the broom shot into his hand firmly. Madam Hooch looked on, startled to see the broom react so well to a first year. She walked over to Harry and spoke loudly.
"Gryffindor, have you ever used a broom before today?" He shook his head. She looked thoughtful and wandered back to the main group. "Interesting, the brooms react strongly to you. You might take after your father! He was a fine Quidditch player."
As soon as she said this, Ron muttered a various assortment of insults directed at Harry ranging from 'Boy Who Lived's getting favouritism' to 'yeah, he'll take after his father…maybe he'll get killed...' Madam Hooch heard every word and was livid.
"WEASLEY!" Ron cringed at the shout. "IF I HEAR YOU SAYING ANYTHING LIKE THAT ABOUT A STUDENT AGAIN, YOU'LL BE IN YOUR HEADS OFFICE FASTER THAN YOU CAN SAY QUIDDITCH!"
Harry ignored Ron's derogatory comments and turned his attention instead to his friends who were struggling. They all seemed a little put out that Harry got his to react well first. Harry smiled and explained.
"Guys, you have to think authoritatively. You are the master of the broom. Don't be afraid of it. If you show no fear and command the broom to come rather than asking it, it will listen and react accordingly. Remember, don't show fear."
Hermione still looked worried, so he went over to her. He moved behind her and held her wrist. Holding it above the broom, he whispered in her ear.
"Hermione, don't be afraid. I know you don't like flying but think of it this way: when you command the respect of your broom, it will not let you fall. It will protect its rider as long as you maintain that cool headedness." She nodded. "Now breathe in deeply and command the broom. Demand its respect. You are its rider." She nodded again, and took a deep breath.
"UP!" The broom shot from the ground straight into her hand without a moment's hesitation. Hermione smiled, and she hugged Harry.
Shortly afterward, Neville and Susan got their brooms to fly to their hands without any hesitation, much to the amazement of Madam Hooch. She watched Harry instruct his friends about commanding the broom and watched in awe as all his friends succeeded quickly. 'I think I'll add that to my class when I teach next year.' She thought in wonderment. She walked over to Harry and whispered.
"Are you sure you've never flown a broom? Not only do you command the respect of the broom, but you understand the mind-set of a broom. You could probably teach this class hands down I think." Harry blushed red and he smiled at the teacher. "Fifteen points to Gryffindor for helping your fellow students who were struggling."
After a busy few weeks of showing off in classes and gathering points for their house, it was the morning of Halloween. Harry woke up to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin. As he got dressed for the day, he noticed that Ron was still fast asleep. Feeling slightly devious, he cast a silencing charm around his hangings and headed down stairs.
In the run up to Halloween, Harry had tried to make sure that there would not be a repeat of the 'girl's bathroom' episode which had begun his and Hermione's friendship in the original timeline. He had made sure that Hermione was seen to be his friend so people would think that if anyone hurt her they would make the school's star pupil angry. However, as they say about 'the best laid plans', Harry's careful preparation was thrown into disarray thanks to one red headed Gryffindor.
In the original timeline, Halloweens charms lesson was the first time they experimented with levitation charms. Professor Flitwick paired off the class to practise, and much to Harry's disappointment and shock, he was not with Hermione. Instead, she had been paired with Ron Weasley, like in the original timeline. This time, however, Harry was placed with Neville, and the pair succeeded brilliantly at the charm. As usual, Harry was the first to master it, and Neville came a close second once his partner had explained the mechanics of the spell to him. Hermione, on the other hand, was struggling being paired with the red head. She had mastered the spell off the bat, much like Harry, but Ron on the other hand couldn't seem to grasp it. Eventually she got frustrated and tried to help him.
"Ronald, you are saying it wrong. It's Wingar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." She said politely. Ron snorted and scowled at her.
"Oh shut up, you mudblood…" He said without thinking. The pure-blood and half-blood side of the class gasped, and Harry growled at the red head. Hermione, however, laughed at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Well at least this mudblood can cast a simple levitation spell, pure-blood." She said, emphasising the last two words. Ron went bright red and snarled at her. However, before he could act, an irate Flitwick stormed over to him.
"MR WEASLEY!" Ron gulped nervously. "GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM! OUT! GO TO PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL'S OFFICE AND WAIT THERE UNTIL SHE FINISHES HER LESSON!" Ron began to shuffle to the door. "AND FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR FOR SUCH DISGUSTING LANGUAGE!" After he had left, he looked over to Hermione. "Ms Granger, for teaching that thick-headed boy a lesson, fifteen points to Gryffindor." She smiled and blushed at the professor.
Harry beamed at her in pride. She had kept her head and refrained from being hurt emotionally. Not only that, she had turned the tables and taught the prat a lesson. The lesson ended fairly soon after that and Harry and Hermione went their separate ways.
As Harry sat eating lunch a few hours later, he noticed that Hermione wasn't present at their normal seat. Looking around to see whether she was at another table, he could still not see her. He leaned over to Neville and Susan and spoke quietly.
"Hey, have you guys seen Hermione since Charms?" They looked at each other and shook their heads.
"No, I haven't seen her mate." Neville began. "Maybe she went to the library." Harry nodded. It was entirely possible. He would check after lunch just to make sure.
After a few more minutes had passed, Harry was surprised to hear a familiar voice coughing behind him.
"Er, Gryffindor." Draco began. "Can-can I talk to you for a minute-in private?" Harry glanced at him and saw the nervousness in his eyes. He wasn't accompanied by either Crabbe or Goyle. 'Not typical Malfoy…' He thought.
"I suppose, Malfoy." He lifted his wand and cast a silencing charm around them. Draco was agape at the magic being performed and Harry shrugged. "I've cast a silencing charm. No one can hear. Now what is it?" Malfoy began to shift uncomfortably, making Harry raise an eyebrow in surprise.
"Right, well, ok then." He took a deep breath. "I know where Hermione is." Harry's other eyebrow joined the first. Draco began to shake slightly. "She-well, she-Weasley beat her up before." He cringed, waiting for Harry's reaction.
Harry froze. His eyes began to darken and his face twitched in anger. He was usually good at controlling his emotions but he was furious at a certain red head. Trying to keep a hold of his fury, he stood up from his bench and looked at Draco.
"How bad is it?" Draco cringed slightly which made him angrier. "I'm not angry at you Draco; just answer me, how bad is it?" He gulped nervously and spoke.
"S-she was bleeding quite a bit and had a black eye." His anger flared violently, breaking the dam holding his emotions. He roared in anger, breaking the silencing charm. The occupants of the hall looked at him and gasped.
Harry was on fire. The flames, however, were not an ordinary orange-red; they were ice white and emanated pure cold to those around him. Draco looked in his eyes and saw the same ice-white flame burning in the emerald. All of a sudden, the doors into the Great Hall crashed open and the candles above the tables went out. The flames in the fireplaces shrunk to miniscule proportions, only just sustaining themselves.
"Where is Hermione and where is Weasley?" Harry asked coldly. Draco shuddered.
"I-I don't know-I'm sorry!"
Turning away from the terrified boy, Harry walked briskly through the doors and out into the corridors. A cold wind blew around those around him as he passed. Teachers shouted after him but he had ears for no one. As soon as he left the doors clanged shut leaving many in the hall. He had two thoughts on his mind;
One, locating and helping his girlfriend, Hermione.
Two, causing one Ronald Bilius Weasley as much pain as humanly possible.
Ron Weasley was quite happy.
Yes, since he had started at Hogwarts he was getting points deducted left, right and centre and he was doing badly in most classes, but he had just vented some of his anger on a certain mudblood book-worm. He glanced at his hand; the knuckles were sore and slightly bloody. He wiped them off and carried on down the corridor.
As he walked, he began to plan his next move against Potter, the bastard. From the moment he met him on the train, he knew Potter was likely to end up his enemy. He didn't want that, hell he wanted to be his friend still – being 'the boy who lived's' friend was bound to make him popular and successful by association.
His original plan had been to use the mudblood to get in with Potter – apologise to her, make friends with her, and get her to make Harry see he wasn't all that bad – at least, that had been the plan. However, he found the girl infuriating; her annoying 'book-wormish' attitude made her impossible to be around – well, for him at least. After he had found her to apologise in one of the corridors, she had rejected every attempt he had made to make amends. In his anger, he grabbed her wrist as she tried to walk away. She struggled and slapped him hard across the face. Blinded by the typical Weasley anger, he began to hit her repeatedly. He was oblivious to the possible repercussions for his actions and took out his frustrations on her.
After he had calmed down, he realised what he had done. The book-worm lay cowering in the foetal position sobbing quietly. She was bleeding quite badly. However, he did not feel remorse or sadness; he felt powerful. Realising he could get in trouble; he left her on the floor with a warning to tell no one, and strode down the corridor.
He smiled as he walked. Everything was coming up Weasley.
Harry searched the school for hours, trying to find Hermione or the bastard red head that had hurt her. As he walked, students who passed him gasped at the flames which still burned around his body. He had not calmed down, nor was he able to calm down while Weasley still walked the school intact.
He pulled out his wand and cast a tempus spell. It was late. At that moment, Ron was in the Halloween feast, pigging out while Hermione lay crying somewhere. He was livid. He already knew she wasn't in the hospital wing: he had gone there first. After hours of fruitless searching, he turned to head to the feast. He intended to give Ron a meal he wouldn't forget.
As he strode past a corridor, a scream brought him out of his fury. The flames vanished as he identified the scream: Hermione. He ran hell-pelt down the hall and skidded to a halt outside the room he had forgotten about: the girl's bathroom.
"The troll!" He gasped. Heading through the open door, he saw his girlfriend cowering in the corner, still bleeding from the beating from Ron, trapped by the hideous beast.
Twelve feet tall, its skin was dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were too long. It was slowly advancing on her, and her wand arm looked to be injured.
Harry began to panic seeing his true love in danger. He wasn't able to concentrate on what to do. As he stood there, one of his emotions crept up on him again. All of a sudden, he was filled with the burning anger from before. The troll's threatening of his girlfriend, added to the animosity held towards Ron made Harry burn with uncontrollable rage. His body once again burst into the icy white flame and a gale force wind began to blow in the room.
The troll was not oblivious to the sudden change in weather. He turned his attention away from the girl and to the cause of the disturbance; a small boy. It growled at the newcomer and lifted his club to strike. It swung low and the boy made no attempt to move. It grinned evilly; the human would be an easy kill. However, a flash of lightning struck where the boy stood, accompanied with a crack of thunder, and the club missed. Looking around in confusion, it saw the boy was no longer there. Its small brain still processing the disappearance of the boy, it did not notice the boy approach from behind clutching a silver sword. Before it knew what had happened, its head lay severed on the floor, a look of confusion forever marking its face.
Harry breathed heavily, his anger having barely subsided. He sheathed his sword, wiping the blood on his robes, while his eyes burned with hatred. While he tried to calm himself, something gripping his hand made him freeze. He turned around and his anger subsided. A small hand loosely held his palm, a hand belonging to Hermione. Forgetting about Ron and the troll he dropped to his knees and held his girlfriend tightly. She began to cry, letting the anguish from the past few hours fall on Harry's shoulder. He began to try and calm her, whispering soothing things in her ear. After the tears had stopped, Harry spoke.
"Hermione, I am sorry, so, so sorry. I wasn't there for you. He was able to hurt you badly and I couldn't help you." It was her turn to whisper to him and stop his tears which were falling freely. He pulled back and looked into her bruised and bleeding face. He wiped away a tear and spoke softly. "I promise; I will be there from now on." She went to interrupt but he silenced her with a finger on her lips. "Hermione Jean Granger, I love you and I promise to stand by you and defend you as long as I live. If you are ever in danger, remember this: I will always come, always. Nothing and no one will stop me from finding you." She smiled tearfully at this and kissed him warmly on the lips.
As they shared their emotional moment, the professors arrived in the toilets, having been warned by Quirrell about the presence of a troll in the school. They were startled to discover that the threat had been neutralised, its head lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The professors then noticed Harry and Hermione in the corner, holding each other while crying, whispering to each other inaudibly.
After snapping out of her shock, Professor McGonagall was the first to address the two first year students.
"Mr Gryffindor, Ms Granger, what in merlin's name happened here?" She asked almost silently. Harry glanced at the teacher and then back to Hermione. Picking her up bridal style with her arms wrapped around his neck, he moved to the door way. As he passed, he spoke to the professor coldly.
"Hermione was in danger: the troll threatened her – I dealt with it." He then swept out of the room and made his way to the hospital wing.
She watched him leave, before turning her attention back to the dead behemoth in front of her. She shuddered, remembering the ice white flame and wind display from the Great Hall. She made a mental note never to anger the boy, and most definitely not threaten Hermione. That would be suicidal.
After arriving in the hospital wing, and after much persuasion from Harry's part, he was allowed to stay with his Hermione while she rested and recovered.
Pushing his anger toward the red head into the back of his mind for the time being, Harry spent his time making sure she was comfortable and happy. After some gentle coaxing, she told him about the beating she received from Ron which made him snarl.
"I'm sorry Hermione, I don't care what you say – that red head is dead. I am going to tear him limb from limb and then throw him to the acromantulas." Hermione smiled at Harry. Seeing him like this showed how much he truly cared about her. Catching his face with her hand, she pulled him down and kissed him firmly.
"Don't think I'll stop you." She said giggling at his surprised reaction. "Just don't do anything illegal, ok? I don't want you getting arrested over something this trivial." Harry snorted at this being described as trivial, but she rubbed the back of his hand gently with her thumb, he calmed down and smiled.
"Alright, I won't kill him – but I will get satisfaction." He said firmly. "Please Hermione, allow me to duel him on your behalf. I'll teach the prick a lesson with Gryffindor's sword he will never forget." She slapped him playfully, giggling.
"Language, Harry! But you have my permission – teach that little bastard a lesson for me – make him hurt beyond belief." Harry kissed her and grinned evilly.
"Oh, you can be sure of that Hermione, you can be sure of that."
Two days after the 'Halloween Incident' as it was dubbed by the students, no one had seen or heard anything about either Harry or Hermione.
Neville and Susan were decidedly worried, unable to visit them in the hospital wing due to the nature of Hermione's injuries. The student population knew full well she had been injured quite badly, but no one was aware of what had done it, much to the pleasure of a certain red headed Gryffindor boy.
As he looked around and still heard whispering about her injuries, he grinned inwardly, scoffing down a large portion of bacon and sausage. Obviously his intimidation of Hermione extended to Harry was well, as evidenced by his lack of reprisal. 'Potter's just a coward.' He thought triumphantly. 'And the mudblood is too scared of me.'
As Ron helped himself to fourths of various meats, the candles in the Great Hall began to flicker. They students and teachers alike looked up at the charmed objects, completely aware they were not supposed to act like that. Professor McGonagall looked up curiously and studied one of the flames. She had only ever seen the flames go out once: two days ago when Harry…she gasped. 'Oh no.' She thought.
The doors to the Great Hall crashed open, creaking ominously, and the candles all went out. The enchanted ceiling began to cloud over and flashes of lightning could be seen amongst the black and grey. Outside, the real sky began to darken and rain started to pummel the windows in the hall. The flames in the fireplaces went out completely, leaving the hall in relative darkness. Some of the younger students began to panic and scream, forcing Dumbledore to act to avert the fear.
"SILENCE!" His magically enhanced voice booming out across the hall. The noise from the students ceased immediately. "Professors, I believe we should…" He was unable to finish as his words were interrupted by a bolt of lightning in the doorway.
Framed in the flash stood the silhouette of a relatively small student – a first year. The hall at large gasped when they realised the figure was none other than Harry Potter. Many of the students felt a distinct sense of déjà vu, seeing the familiar ice white flames growing from his small form. However, this time there was an addition: much like the sky inside the Great Hall and out, his hands crackled with the unmistakeable sight of lightning, which arced from the tips of his fingers to the floor.
Dumbledore stood at the podium, extremely shocked by the display of power from this young student. The old man wished that he could wield the immense power that Harry apparently controlled and made him second guess his attempts at controlling him. He other staff members were not much better. All were terrified by their star pupil, wondering what could have set him off yet again. Before they could guess, the booming voice of the young boy, like the crack of thunder, spread around the room.
"WEASLEY...WHERE ARE YOU, YOU COWARDLY WOMAN BEATER!"
The hall at large gasped. They guessed the implication from Harry's words – Ron was the one to hurt Hermione. Every set of eyes turned to Ron and scowled – even the Slytherins. After Harry's last display of power, no one wanted to get on his bad side.
As the students turned to him, he shrunk into his seat, trying to avoid everyone's gaze. Harry followed the staring eyes and finally saw the red headed prick. His cold, electric voice made all the students shiver.
"Stand up Weasley." Ron shrunk even further into his seat. Harry growled, walked over drawing his sword and held the tip to his throat. "I. Said. Stand." Slowly, Ron rose from his seat, careful not to make any sudden movements and soon stood in front of the irate Gryffindor.
It was at the sight of the petrified red head, holding his hands up while a sword was held to his throat that Dumbledore finally spoke.
"Mr Gryffindor, you must calm…" A bolt of lightning arced from the ceiling and struck next to the headmaster, making him jump. Harry snarled.
"SHUT THE HELL UP, OLD MAN. THIS DOES NOT CONCERN YOU!"
Dumbledore was shocked by the show of power from this first year. He had not only performed Elemental magic, but he had done so wandlessly. 'Hmm. This boy is much more powerful than I had originally anticipated.' Dumbledore thought worriedly.
Turning back to Ron, he withdrew his sword and sheathed it, glaring daggers at him. His eyes burned ferociously and he snarled at the boy.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley, scion of house Weasley, I Lord Harry James Potter Ravenclaw Gryffindor, lord of three most noble and ancient houses, demand satisfaction for your violent attack on Hermione Jean Granger, a protectorate of the aforementioned houses and my Girlfriend. I hereby challenge you to a duel for Hermione's honour and to gain satisfaction on my part. You must accept or forfeit."
The room was silent. They knew that Harry was the bright star amongst the academic students and was top of his year. They also knew that Harry was capable of Elemental magic, as evidenced by his past two outbursts. All in all, they knew that Ron Weasley was likely to die, or be severely maimed.
Ron was terrified. He frantically searched around the room for someone who was willing to help him, but no one met his gaze. They all knew, like him, there was no way out of a wizarding duel. Harry looked over to the heads table and his gaze met Professor Flitwick's.
"Professor, I was wondering if you could referee this duel and make sure it is performed correctly." Harry asked politely. The Ravenclaw Head of House nodded and made his way from the staff table. Drawing his wand, the four house tables shifted aside and a purple duelling platform appeared down the central aisle, much like the one from second year, Harry thought. Finishing his conjuration, he turned to Harry.
"Mr Gryffindor, what are the stakes for the duel?" Harry grinned evilly at Ron.
"Quite simple: if I win, then Ron forfeits his right to attend Hogwarts, which being an heir of two founders entitles me and must apologise to Hermione or lose his magic and live the life of a squib." Ron paled slightly, but he smirked back.
"And if I win, you must forfeit your titles and money to me!" He shouted triumphantly. Harry rolled his eyes and nodded.
"Trust you to pick a material reward. Very well, those are the conditions, so mote it be." His magic flashed as a sign of the agreement. Professor Flitwick nodded and spoke again.
"Mr Weasley, since you have been challenged, you have the choice of weapons – magic, sword or muggle." He said evenly.
While Ron thought, Harry considered each option: using his magic, he could torture Ron good and proper using illusion magic and cause some pain. Using his sword he could easily out parry Ron with the duelling skills imbued in the sword. And using muggle fighting he could give Ron a good thrashing, but it also presented the opportunity for him to fight dirty. Ron's face contorted into a sneer and he answered.
"I chose magic Professor." The charms teacher nodded. Both parties stood at opposing ends of the duelling platform and the other students looked on with interest.
"Very well, Mr Weasley has chosen magical combat. This is a fight to submission, as the terms of victory. I must remind both parties that use of deadly magic or the 'Unforgivable's' is tantamount to forfeit." Both students nodded. "Very well, duellers, bow." Harry bowed to Ron while he merely sneered. "Begin!"
"Stupefy!" Ron bellowed. Harry dodged the spell and smirked. He was using high level spells – he would tire easily. "Expelliarmus!" He cast again, while Harry moved fluidly out of the spells way.
This continued for five minutes, much to the amusement of the students. Ron could not get a spell to hit his opponent. Eventually, Ron began to sweat profusely and shake under the extended magical strain of continuous spell casting. Harry knew he would not last much longer and finally began to make his move.
Lifting his hand, he pointed at his left leg and scrunched up his fist. Almost immediately, his leg made an audible crack, causing many students to gasp, and Ron to scream painfully. Falling to his knees, Ron tried to raise his wand for another attack, but Harry repeated the process to his non-wand arm. Bellowing in pain, Harry's eyes flashed with righteous anger, something which Dumbledore noticed. Deciding to finish the duel, he withdrew his wand and pointed it at Ron. 'I think it's time for some psychological warfare.' He thought. With a slash of his wand, he cast a spell he himself crafted.
"Arachnia Pullities!" Harry bellowed.
A large mist came out of his wand, forming into the grotesque form of hundreds of spiders – all larger than a tarantula. Ron screamed in fear, as did many other students in the hall. Harry's illusions, however, were charmed to only affect the intended victim. The veritable swarm of arachnids moved toward the terrified red head at an amazing speed, crawling up his legs and over his body. In blind panic, he dropped his wand to the floor and began to frantically sweep the spiders off his body. Eventually, after soiling himself in both departments his eyes rolled up into his head and he fainted, collapsing onto the stage. Seeing the end of the duel, Harry summoning the red head's wand, he banished the spiders and bowed to his fallen opponent, smirking all the while.
"Ennervate." Harry said loudly, pointing his wand at the boy. He shuddered awake, shaking violently on the floor. He glared at Harry before realizing he had lost. Harry whispered quietly.
"If I catch you doing anything to my Hermione again, I WILL kill you."
"The duel has ended: Ronald Weasley is unable to continue. Lord Gryffindor is the victor." Flitwick announced loudly.
The room erupted in cheering and applause. For many of the students, this confirmed how powerful Harry actually was. Not only could he cast elemental magic but he could fell an opponent, even one as weak as Weasley, with only one spell, and after seeing him exploit the fear of the red head, none of them wanted to get on his bad side.
Harry, uncaring of the hall's reaction, turned around and walked off the platform, not before throwing Ron's wand over his shoulder.
Quick as a flash, Ron summoned the wand to his hand and pointed his wand in fury at the retreating form of Harry.
"REDUCTO!" He bellowed.
The spell flew towards his unshielded back and he was unable to dodge it completely. Striking his shoulder, a sickening crunch was heard as the spell tore through muscle and bone.
Harry fell to his knees with a shout, before struggling to his feet and summoning Ron's wand. As it flew into his outstretched hand for the second time, with a click of his fingers, it burst into flame – a familiar icy white flame. The flames flickered and burned the boy's wand until all that was left was ash. Upturning his hand, letting the ash float away down the corridor, he staring Ron directly in the eyes and growled out, his voice once more like thunder.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley, as is my birth right and my right by wizarding duel, I Lord Harry James Potter Ravenclaw Gryffindor, hereby expel you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and banish you permanently from the grounds." Before he could complain, a bolt of lightning struck the kneeling boy and he was gone, along with his belongings from the dormitories. Before anyone could say anything, Harry collapsed to his knees in immense pain, looking extremely pale.
Professor McGonagall rushed over and performed a few spells to stem the bleeding before levitating the weak boy from the Great Hall. As he slipped into blissful unconsciousness, he smiled and spoke softly, loud enough that the professor caught his words.
"I did it Hermione…I got payback for what he did to you…I-I love…" His last words were cut off as he fell asleep.
McGonagall looked at one of her youngest cubs with a distinct feeling of pride. He had fought for the honour of his love that had been beaten violently and won. 'She should be proud and grateful she has such an honourable young man alongside her.' She remarked silently.
She bustled down the silent corridors, delivering the unconscious boy to the hospital wing who ended up in the bed next to Hermione.
Harry awoke to a minor throbbing in his shoulder and a small weight on his chest. Glancing at his shoulder, he saw that the damage had been repaired, but it was still bruised and sore. Looking down at his chest, he realised that the restriction on his breathing was actually a sleeping Hermione, cuddling into his chest. He smiled and noticed how peaceful and pretty she looked while asleep. He reached down with his hand and began to stroke her hair gently. She moaned softly and leaned into his touch.
After about ten minutes, she began to stir and looked up to see who was stoking her hair, meeting a pair of emerald green eyes. She gasped and flung herself around Harry's neck, who winced in pain before returning the embrace. They sat there, holding each other for a few minutes before she pulled away and looked disapprovingly at Harry.
"Harry James Gryffindor!" He winced at her tone. "When I said you could teach Ron a lesson for me, I didn't say you could get yourself injured in the process!" Harry laughed and mock glared at her.
"Hey, it wasn't my fault! I won the duel fair and square and then he decides to launch a Reducto at my back! He bloody cheated!"
Hermione looked livid. The bastard had the audacity to attack her and then attack her boyfriend while his back was turned. Harry noticed this and soothed her emotions, stroking her hair gently and reassuring her.
"Hermione, don't worry. I've taught the prick a lesson he will never forget." Hermione looked at him, subtly pressuring him for more details. "Well the terms of the duel were if he won, I would surrender my titles and wealth to him, and if I won, he would forfeit his right to attend Hogwarts, being present on the grounds and he would have to apologise to you or risk losing his magic and living like a squib." Hermione beamed at him before slapping his uninjured shoulder.
"Harry, how could you risk your money and titles like that? What if you had lost?" Harry stroked her cheek and smiled.
"Hermione, I would give up everything I own just to stay with you. There is nothing in this world worth more to me than you." She blushed and smiled dazzlingly. She leaned up and kissed him on the lips.
"Thank you Harry. Thank you for getting him back for me." Harry's expression turned grim.
"Hermione, I failed you. I should have been there and I failed. He got to hurt you – badly. I did what I did to try and make up my failure." He began to cry and her heart began to call out to him. "I'm sorry." She pulled him into an embrace and held him.
"Don't apologise. Despite what you think, it wasn't your fault." Harry went to object but she silenced him with a finger to the lips. "It was my fault. He wanted to apologise to me for treating me badly. Part of me thought he could change, be our Ron again. It turned sour quickly and he started hitting me. I was terrified and couldn't fight back." At this point both of them were crying openly, clutching the other. After a minute or two, Harry pulled back and smiled at her.
"Let's just say we both failed that time, ok? We aren't going to get anywhere by feeling sorry about ourselves." Hermione smiled back and nodded.
"Let's plan a bit more next time." She said. "We need to learn from this. Despite all our changes, you and I still ended up in the girl's bathroom facing the troll." Harry laughed and shook his head.
"Makes you think it was fated doesn't it?" She giggled and nodded. Harry's face then furrowed into a frown, and Hermione poked him for an answer.
"Just thinking about Malfoy, why did he decide to warn me about the prick attacking you? What was there to gain from it?" Hermione shrugged her shoulders.
"Harry, since you are different in this timeline, maybe Malfoy is different to. Without trying to mess with you all the time because of some stupid grudge, maybe he has some respect for you." Harry considered this and nodded.
"I'll speak to him soon; try to find out what his intentions were." A thought suddenly crossed his mind. "I also need to speak to Hogwarts." Hermione looked at him like he was mad, so he filled her in on what had been said at the Sorting Ceremony.
After a while of just chatting, the pair fell back on Harry's bed and fell asleep, Hermione hugging his chest tightly. While things hadn't gone completely according to plan this Halloween, they now had one less weasel to deal with.