Chapter 11: The Potions Master
Great Hall, Hogwarts, Northern Scotland
Harry's first week back at Hogwarts was going well. Even though he had already changed much, which he hadn't initially planned to do, Harry could tell that things were already going far better than he could have hoped.
Looking around, Harry noted that within such a short amount of time, he was surprised at how well he was getting to know the girls he was betrothed to. Even Daphne was starting to come around.
Smiling, Harry thought of the beautiful, stubborn girl. It was no wonder very few had the nerve to approach her before he came back. Harry and Gabby were one of the very selective groups of only three students that could approach her without suffering a withering death glare from the girl. Somehow, Sirius managed to be the only adult Daphne would normally open up to, though Harry felt it had something to do with their first double DADA lesson with Slytherin.
~Flashback~
"Come on Harry, or we're going to be late to our first class with Sirius!" Gabby said as she dragged a laughing Harry through the corridor behind her.
"We're never late, Love," Harry gasped out. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you've taken a fancy to the old dog!"
Though Gabby giggled, Harry's last remark earned him a smack on the shoulder as she pushed open the door to the DADA classroom. "Come now Harry, we both know that isn't true. But do you honestly want to miss Sirius breathing down Malfoy's neck?"
Harry's grin turned feral. "Not a chance, Love."
Quietly entering the Defense Against the Dark Arts class room, Harry was slightly surprised to see that he and Gabrielle weren't the first students to arrive. Sitting in the back corner glaring at the two of them, Draco Malfoy watched as they took the closest seats to Sirius.
Murmurs could be heard from the different groups of students, all wondering about how Sirius' class would turn out. Many of them looked frightened at the thought of being taught by an ex-convict, while others were in awe of the spells that he could teach them.
Shortly after the rest of the first years filed in, Sirius caught the attention of the class by waving his wand and banishing all the student's supplies and desks to the back of the classroom.
"Come on, file up," Sirius called out. "I want you to all separate into groups of no more than three."
Harry and Gabrielle were immediately joined by Hermione. Looking over, Harry noticed that Malfoy had grouped up with Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini.
"Now who can tell me, in their opinion, what the Dark Arts are?" Sirius asked. Watching carefully, only three of the students had their hands up. Hermione's, whose hand had shot up instantly, Daphne's, and surprisingly, Malfoy's. "Miss Granger."
"The Dark Arts, also known as Dark Magic, refers to any type of magic that's primary purpose is to cause harm," Hermione stated confidently.
"Correct, but also incorrect Miss Granger," Sirius replied. "Five points to Emrys. Can anyone tell me what the Dark Arts are, beyond the word for word definition from your text books?"
Every hand went down, causing Sirius and Harry both to sigh. "The Dark Arts is the intention to cause harm to another. It is not the spell which is evil, but the will, the intent with which it is cast. The Dark Arts consist of spells whose primary function is to cause harm, and though they can also be used to do good, they require a certain mindset in order to properly cast them, causing a corrupting influence upon the caster. Though it is possible to defend oneself from the Dark Arts, it is impossible to entirely defeat them. There must be a balance to all things. Good and Evil. Light and Dark. Life and Death. Without one, the other cannot exist. The Dark Arts are many, ever-changing and eternal. They are like a hydra. Each time you defeat one, two more take its place being fiercer and cleverer than before. To fight the Dark Arts is to fight that which is unfixed, adapting, and indestructible. It is to fight to extinguish the darkness within your own heart."
Silence reigned as Harry's words had wrenched the hearts and attention of all within the classroom. Finally, after a few moments, Sirius broke the silence. "Very good, Harry. Ten points to Emrys. Your words sound like they come from a seasoned master auror who has been fighting the Dark Arts his entire life and I highly doubt I could ever give a better description."
"If the Dark Arts are so invincible, then why are we here?" Ron asked, unable to contain himself. Harry smirked at him, the fool.
Sirius moved around to the front of his desk and sighed. "That is a good question, Mr. Weasley. Can anyone answer his question?"
None of the class raised their hands this time, not quite understanding the concepts so far. Even Hermione looked stumped. The conversation so far had gone far beyond the defense texts, which only lightly skimmed the theory, and in nowhere near such depth.
"My Papa explained it to me once." Daphne's voice startled many of the students, who were used to her being quiet and attentive so far. "He said that as long as there as been darkness, there has been light. That although the darkness has covered the land more than once, there has always been a spark that shown bright, fighting against it's many forms, leading the world into the light. We are here to learn to identify and fight against the darkness within and without, in all its forms. For where there is light, darkness cannot prevail."
"Very good," Sirius said approvingly. "How long did it take you to understand what he meant?"
"I still don't, Professor. Not completely," Daphne replied, her head bowed.
Sirius walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder, causing the startled girl to look up at him smiling down at her. "Do not feel ashamed. Your Papa is wise. What he meant is that even though there is darkness everywhere around us, and within us all, there is always hope. There are always those willing to stand for what is right. Your answer Mr. Weasley is that you are here to learn how to defend yourselves and each other against those who intend you harm."
"Tell me Harry, would you care to elaborate on your description of the dangers of using the Dark Arts, save for just saying that they have a corrupting influence on the caster?"
Harry nodded. "Of course, Professor. As any trained witch or wizard knows, magic is all about the intent, but is powered by our magic, which in turn is strengthened by our emotions. Wandless magic is said to be nigh impossible, yet we have all done it in the form of accidental magic in times of heightened emotion before we are taught how to control our magic. In order to successfully cast spells classified as 'Dark Arts' one must allow negative emotions into their heart and mind, slowly corrupting their soul. For example, the Killing curse requires that you truly desire to kill, to shed the blood of your victim while the Cruciatus requires that you truly desire to enjoy causing pain to your victim. Being in this mindset in order to cast these spells requires you to open your heart and soul to the negative emotions, and can leave the caster with a blissful feeling of power with a craving for more. The first time is always the hardest, but it becomes progressively easier. The only reason why aurors are at times authorized to use the Unforgivable curses is because they understand the difference between the harmful intent which corrupts and the righteous intent which protects the caster."
For the rest of the class, Sirius had showed them basic stances and how to hold their wands properly in order to make their defensive casting more efficient. He also assigned them a foot long essay detailing their knowledge of the subject so far, so that he could get an idea of each student's understanding, which would in turn give him an idea for their syllabus that year.
Harry knew that Daphne was already starting to open up to Sirius after their talk the other night, but she still seemed a bit down from the beginning of class.
"Alright, class dismissed. Don't let me keep you from lunch and don't forget your essays," Sirius called out at the end of the period.
Walking over to where Daphne was grabbing her bag, Sirius gently touched her shoulder and motioned for her to stay back momentarily. Nodding to Sirius, she told Harry and the rest to go on ahead and that she would catch up.
Whatever Sirius had wanted to talk to Daphne about worked well, it seemed. Harry was halfway through with lunch when she slid in beside him to eat and Daphne was all smiles.
~End Flashback~
Harry smirked. It was finally Friday, the day that Harry had been waiting for. He had to deal with Snape today and after he missed the first Potions class of the year earlier that week, he knew that the overgrown bat was going to be breathing down his neck extra hard that day. So far, Harry had gone over several ideas on how to deal with Snape, but wasn't quite sure of his course of action yet.
Harry had heard the reports from many of the other students from the other houses about Snape. Apparently, Snape still hadn't figured out the cure to his problem. He was a Master of Potions, but even a simple muggle laxative, albeit drastically enhanced magically be Harry, stumped the man.
So, Harry had deemed fit to set up another show for that morning, charming his seat to change Snape's robes into a clown's outfit, face paint and all when Snape sat down. The explosion from the head table woke up the few students that were still dosing over the breakfast, and brought the attention of the students and Professors to Snape. Snape looked apoplectic with rage, and didn't even notice the bottle Harry had labeled Poo-No-More appear in his hand with the wall behind him demonstrating its use for all to see.
Snape fled the Great Hall in a fury and the Weasley twins were grinning stupidly at Harry, while Sirius merely winked at him. The only ones not rolling with laughter were the Slytherins, whose faces were furious in their Head of House's humiliation.
Professor McGonagall had her head in her hands, but she had already given Snape a look that clearly said 'They were bound to start paying you back some day.'
Just then, the mail arrived. Harry could tell that Hermione was starting to get used to it but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly flown through the rafters into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps. Hedwig brought Harry his Daily Prophet as usual, but also had a letter attached to her leg. Taking them from her, Hedwig nibbled his ear and took a rasher from Harry before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. Wondering who would be writing him, Harry tore open the letter at once, revealing a familiar scrawl:
Dear Harry and Gabrielle,
I know you both get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?
I want to hear all about your first week back. Send me an answer back with Hedwig.
Hagrid
Harry had forgotten about his first time visiting Hagrid's hut, but seeing this letter again brought it all back. Harry felt ashamed of himself. His first week back at Hogwarts had definitely been busy, but that was no excuse for him to have neglected his first friend. Gabrielle had read the letter over his shoulder and had already grabbed his quill and ink, hurriedly writing a reply.
Dear Hagrid,
We would love to join you. See you then
Harry and Gabrielle
Lord and Lady Emrys
Harry knew he would soon be putting up with Snape, and that definitely didn't improve his mood any. The Potions classroom was already cold and creepy enough, being down in the dungeons and Harry made sure to tighten up his Occlumency shields before stepping into the classroom.
Snape scowled upon spotting Harry, but did not say anything, continuing to watch the rest of the class file in and find their seats. As soon as they were all in, though, Snape snapped his wand up, causing the door to slam closed. Standing to move around to the front of his desk, Snape's wand moved in a sweeping motion, letting down the drapes over the windows, plunging the Potions classroom into a darkness only lit by a few torches lining the walls.
Turning back to face the class, Snape stalked towards Harry, his cloak billowing out behind him. Harry smirked; he needed to learn how he did that.
Getting to Harry, Snape sneered, "Do not smirk, Mr. Potter. Excuses from the dog or not, I am highly displeased at you missing my class on Monday. Be grateful that I am unable to give you a detention. Ten points from Emrys for not having your homework completed."
There were snickers from the Slytherins on the other side of the room, and Ron looked smug at Harry getting what was coming to him.
Harry growled. "Don't speak about Sirius that way. And you can't take points from me Snivellus. You didn't hand any homework out on Monday. I checked."
Malfoy and the other Slytherins gasped. Harry had more balls than they thought, but they knew he wouldn't live long after disrespecting the Head of Slytherin House like that.
Snape slammed his hands down on Harry's desk looking furious. "You are arrogant, Potter. Walking around thinking that you can break all the rules while we all bow to you, just like your father," Snape snarled. "He was a pompous toe-rag and the Mutt is no better! For your information, Potter, the homework was to read the first two chapters of the Potions text."
Harry continued to glare at Snape, while most of the class was surprised he was still breathing. No one, not even the infamous Weasley twins, had ever dared to stand up to Snape the way he was doing. "I have read them, Professor."
Snape straightened up, glaring at Harry contemptuously. "Very well, Mr. Potter. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry glanced at Ron, who looked stumped, but Hermione's hand had already shot into the air. Harry smirked. "Really professor? That's a sixth year question, and they make a very restricted sleeping potion so powerful that it is known as the Draught of Living Death."
The corner of Snape's mouth twitched. "Ten more points from Emrys for your cheek. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione's hand was stretched as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Snape had no interest in terrorizing the girl, or allowing her to answer a question meant to make Harry look like a fool. The rest of the Emrys first years smirked at Hermione's attempt to gain the attention of the rather irritated Professor.
Harry looked around for a moment, baiting Snape and staying silent.
Professor Snape, thinking that Harry was stumped, sneered at Harry. "Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter? Then you had the audacity to-"
"For your information, Professor, a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that will save you from most poisons. As for your next question, there is no difference between monkshood and wolfsbane. They are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Now could you please stop asking questions that are years beyond our first year texts and maybe start teaching us how to cut, dice, and slice our ingredients, and maybe explain why they had to be prepped and stirred certain ways, and explain the subtle ways that these factors affect the way ingredients react to each other?"
There it was. All of the Gryffindors and Slytherins were stunned silent, many having slipped out of their chairs at Harry's nerve. The Emrys students just shook with silent laughter at the astonished Professor.
'That groveling, arrogant brat!' Snape fumed. 'How dare he show me up in front of my own House!'
Growling, Snape grabbed Harry by the scruff of his robes and hauled him into the air. Not a second later, Harry felt the familiar sharp stab of Snape's legilimancy probe and knew his bait had worked.
Latching on to the probe with his mind, Harry forced Snape's mind into a locked section of his outer wall, where Harry had set up a specific memory that his parents wanted to Snape to see. Normally, a legilimancy would show no outward sign of what he was seeing, but even the Slytherins noted the way their Head of House went considerably paler than he normally was as he was forced to endure the message James and Lily Potter and prepared especially for him. Harry had also bundled up all of his childhood memories with the Dursleys and forced Snape to relive each and every one of them as if they had happened to him.
When it was through, everything went black for Snape and he found himself kneeling on a bloody ground in front of a throne of shining obsidian. Looking around himself, Snape saw thousands of bodies, strewn across the ground for as far as he could see. A blood red moon shown over the battlefield where thousands lay dead. Wizards and witches, goblins, trolls, giants, dragons, and more littered the ground. It looked like the apocalypse had come, and none had survived the final days of it. The stench of every living being on Earth decaying as the Earth itself died was overpowering. The mortal realm was as dead as the realm of the dead itself.
Snape had seen and done horrible things throughout his life, but what he saw was more gruesome than even the former death eater could handle and he was instantly sick.
"Like what you see, Professor?"
Snape's head snapped up to where Harry was now sitting on the throne. "What is this Potter?"
Harry looked gloomily around. "This is what the future looks like so far, if I fail."
"Why should I believe you, Potter?" Snape sneered. "How do I know that everything you've shown me hasn't just been fabricated?"
Harry scowled. "A master Occlumens such as you should know the difference between the reality and fantasy in memories. Surely you detected the truth in them?"
That was true. Snape was positive that the memories he had suffered to see were entirely true, but that only made things harder. But how could what Lily told him be true? That her son had died already once before. Didn't that prove that fighting the Dark Lord was pointless? Was what he was now seeing really the future that was in store for them? Snape saw nothing but death and desolation everywhere he looked.
"I am not my father, Snape. The feud between you two should have stayed that way, and died with him. But no. Before you even met me you decided to hate me, to hate your childhood enemy's son. You met me and immediately saw fit to treat me with the disdain and enmity you felt for my father, even though you loved my mother and swore to protect me with your life. You owe my father a life debt, now passed to me, but instead you treat me with hatred."
Snape scowled at first, but began to pale at Harry's words, not saying anything as he listened with rapt attention.
"Grow up, Professor. I am my own man. I acknowledge that my father made mistakes, but so did you. You were both young, and he grew up. Why didn't you? Because the woman you loved chose your most hated enemy? Is that any reason to treat her son the way you have planned on?"
Snape sighed sadly, remembering fondly the fiery girl that he had fallen for. His childhood friend. The only one that ever stood up for him, and was there for him when he needed someone most. Most of all, he remembered the day he lost her for good, betrayed by the sharp tongue he prided himself for. To this day, Snape hated that word with a passion and gave anyone, even his Slytherins, a month of detention anytime it was uttered in his presence.
Harry wasn't done with him though. "From the minute you found out that I was coming to Hogwarts, you had it in your mind that I was a pampered prince, proud, and conceited from my fame, but not once did you ask or try to check what my home life was really like."
Snape's head hung in shame, still unable to say anything. First being brought low by the only woman he had ever loved, and then cowed by her only son. He had failed her, he knew that. What scared the Potions Master the most were the similarities between Harry's childhood and his own. Both being beaten and treated like house elves.
Still looking down, Snape muttered darkly. "What is it that you want from me, Potter? To torture me? Make me see the error of my ways? I am bound to two masters already, one egomaniac bent on killing everything muggle and another who is content to sacrifice us all if need be."
"I want nothing from you, Professor. I have hated you more than almost anyone else. Only three people do I hate more than you. Still, you've had as hard a life as I have, and we are the products of our surroundings, but also our choices. For many years you have attempted to make amends for your choices by spying and protecting the students of Hogwarts. What you must realize, is that although separating yourself from your emotions has allowed you to survive so far, not everyone is out to destroy you. It has made you a powerful spy and warrior, but a failure as a man and teacher."
Snape snarled. "What of the Dark Lord then? What happens when he returns? I can not afford to look weak to him or the families that still support him. I'll be crucified, especially if I'm seen as not condemning the child that brought about his downfall in the first place!"
Snape strode forward closer to Harry. Each step through the flesh and blood brought a deeper revulsion of Harry to the man. How could anyone, much less a child, look upon such a sight and it not affect them? Already, Snape growled at the thought of dirtying himself with the flesh and blood of so many, and he knew that if this wasn't a mindscape, he would surely have had to burn his robes.
Harry scowled, watching the man trudge slowly through the mass of bodies closer to him. "Is that really all you are concerned about Snivellus? How to save yourself when your master returns? You disgust me. You would throw away the lives of children, and torture them happily, just to save yourself at the end? The end does not justify the means whenever innocent children are hurt, Severus Snape. Besides, we both know that you are not a man ruled by fear. You willingly joined Voldemort because you love the dark arts, before you found that you despised his ideas and goals. His ways to rule. You found that he is a hypocrite."
Snape shuddered, thoughts lingering on the past he had sought to forget as the child figured it all out; like he had peered into Snape's mind and soul.
"So you joined the light as a spy. But you aren't fully accepted by them, because you love the dark arts. So you're trapped between. No matter which side wins you will never fully benefit."
"Foolish child!" Snape raged. "Think of the war! My position as a spy must be protected at all costs! Do you think the Dark Lord would think even once about killing them all if they refused to serve him? And death would be preferred to that life!"
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Cursing Dumbledore, Harry realized that the old man had brainwashed his pet death eater well. Harry's arm snapped out like lightning, freezing Snape in his tracks. With a twist of his wrist, Harry gathered a ball of his magic in his palm and thrust it out towards the frozen potions master. The second the magic touched Snape's chest; he was sent flying backwards into a conjured wall. He could feel chill in the air as Harry's hot breath on his neck made him want to scream.
"You've listened far too much to the old man, Severus. Think for yourself. If Voldemort does take over, what you say may or may not happen, but if you continue at this rate, you will be casting the children and their futures away for him. It is your duty to protect the future generations, and cultivate them with all the knowledge you possess. Instead, you torture them each and every day, and you do not even attempt to use proper teaching methods."
Neither of them spoke for a few moments. The glistening red sun, burnt with the blood and deaths of millions, climbed ever lower on the horizon of Harry's mindscape and a bone chilling cold began to settle in. Snape's cloak fluttered softly from where he still hung from the wall, nearly twenty feet above the ground and Harry's eyes narrowed as he waited for a reply. It was a good thing that time traveled so differently here, Harry thought to himself.
Finally, after what seemed like days, but was in fact only ten minutes of silence, Snape broke the ice. "What do you expect of me, Potter? Your mother showed me our past or possible future you might say. Still, even a child with your abilities can only do so much. You have never seen the darkness, the misery of war. You died within an hour of Voldemort being reborn, so how can you expect to face him this time and survive? Will you be able to protect your friends and the ones you love, Potter? Will you give in to the fear and hopelessness?"
Harry was startled. Snape was never one to hold punches, but the way he carefully worded his questions, not to hurt, but to carefully test his resolve wasn't a tactic that Harry was expecting from the potions master.
Staring Snape dead in the eyes, Harry could see the walls that his mother told him about. Unlike Harry, Severus Snape was no orphan, but his home life was much the same as Harry's. With very few friends all his life, Snape had made his way alone, building up walls around and within himself to keep everyone out. Yet, one amazing girl had punctured those walls many years ago and Harry could see the heavily veiled hope in Snape's eyes directed at Harry himself. Here was another like himself, born and raised in strife, taught by himself to survive alone, resourceful, powerful, and proud.
Harry grasped the potions master's arm and wrapped his own around it. Instantly bright tendrils of wild and powerful magic wrapped around their arms. "I expect fairness from you, Professor," Harry breathed. Snape's breath hitched in his throat but Harry continued. "I expect you to do your duty as a Professor, and as a man. To be faithful and true to those under your guard. To protect and teach the next generation so that they won't end up being 'dunderheads' as you have so eloquently put it. Finally, when, not if, the war begins anew, you will take your place on our side and fight. You will fight for those who cannot. You will fight for those beside you. You will fight for me and those who are willing do stand, fight, and die to protect this world. You will fight, Severus Snape, so that no other shall be forced to endure the childhoods and lives we have. You and I will fight, Severus Snape, side by side, to make a clean path to a clear and better future for those who come after us. This is your purpose. This I expect of you. By your magic you must swear it!"
Without hesitation, Severus Snape made his vow, the fire in his eyes matched only by the endless fields of determination and power wrapped around Harry's soul, and seen through the glowing green orbs of his eyes. "By my life and magic, I, Severus Snape, so swear to do!"
"So mote it be!" Harry cried out.
A bright flash from the magic entwining their arms proved magic's acceptance of the vow and a moment later, both Harry and Snape found themselves back in the Potions classroom, where every Slytherin and Gryffindor stared in horror, expecting Harry's last breath to be seconds away.
Snape stunned the entire class, except for Harry, when he nodded briefly and turned to head back to his desk. "A wise statement, Mr. Potter. You will all take out your texts and read the first two chapters on the basics of potions theory. If you have any questions you will remain seated and silent, with your wand up, and I will make my way to you. Begin."
Harry leaned back and took out his own tome on ancient potions, noting to himself that it was nearly a minute after Snape's unexpected pronouncement that any other students began their assigned reading. It wasn't exactly how Harry intended for their conversation to go, but it worked. The rest of the Potions class went off almost without a hitch. At least none of it was on Harry's shoulders.
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry could tell that the Gryffindors' spirits were low, especially Ron Weasley's. The incompetent fool had lost a full ten points from his house when he attempted to use a levitation spell to hold his book up while he read it. Unfortunately for Ron, his flimsy spell work caused his book to fly into one of the cauldrons that Snape had set to boil, causing them all to explode.
Several Slytherins in the vicinity were sent to the hospital wing with burnt feet from the acid now pouring from the cauldrons and Snape sent the rest of the students to their next classes and was forced to cancel potions class for the rest of the day while he cleaned up the acid and fumes from Ron's mishap. Harry smirked; two solid weeks of detention with Snape, cleaning the entire dungeons without magic would surely teach Ron some restraint. Hopefully.
At five to three Harry and Gabrielle left through the main doors and made their way across the grounds down to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid's crossbow was leaning against the side of the door as they walked up.
When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang — back." Harry smirked. Fang was always very… rowdy when meeting new people, and had already caught their scent.
Gabby looked horrified. "W- What kind of beast does Hagrid have in there? It sounds awful!"
Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.
"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."
"Heh," Harry shrugged. "Fang's a boarhound. He's huge, but a total coward. The only danger he might pose is to your clothes when he slobbers all over them."
Before Gabrielle could gather herself from the unexpected answer the door to Hagrid's hut slammed open. Waving them in, Hagrid struggled to keep a hold on the collar of the enormous black boarhound.
Gabrielle looked around in amazement. She had never seen the inside of the hut before, and was awed by how comfortable it seemed.
The small wooden building was only big enough for one room, but Hagrid used the space well. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling beside beautiful silver unicorn tails; a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.
"Wow," Gabby breathed softly. "Do you really live here?"
Hagrid's chest puffed out proudly. "Aye! Build it meself after Dumbledore got me on as Gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."
"It's really great, Hagrid!" Gabby gushed, making the half-giant blush beet red.
The corners of Hagrid's beard around his mouth twitched as he waved away her compliment. Harry could tell he was really pleased. "Aye thank thee, young Lady. Make yerselves at home," replied Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Gabrielle and started licking her ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.
"Now what's this I heard someone been callin' somewhat a beast? Yeh weren' talkin' 'bout me now were yeh?" asked Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.
Gabby paled while Harry guffawed. Hagrid just stood there confused until Harry fell over backwards in his chair while laughing.
"Bloody bedpost," Harry growled, rubbing the growing welt on his head. "Anyways, Gabby heard Fang barking and trying to get to the door and thought it was a bloody great beast out to - Yipe! What the bloody fuck?" Harry snapped, staring down the business end of Gabby's wand.
Gabby was blushing red from embarrassment, obviously Harry's fault, and deemed fit to send several stinging hexes to ahh… sensitive areas of Harry's anatomy.
Harry stumbled slightly as he retook his seat while Gabrielle put her wand away, smirking evilly. That would teach the idiotic prat to take the micky out on her.
Hardly paying attention to the two, Hagrid had set mugs of tea in front of each of them, along with a large plate of rock plates in the center of the table for them all. "Now see 'ere, Miss Delacour-Potter, yeh ain' got nothing' to fear from neither me nor Fang. He's jus' a big baby and I love kids."
With a subtle motion, Harry warned Gabrielle, who was about to take a bite of one of Hagrid's rock cakes. Harry had more than his fair share of the things. They were shapeless lumps with raisins that would nearly break your teeth biting into, and Harry was quite sure that they would work quite well as bludgers if they'd been charmed to fly.
The rest of their visit passed quietly. Harry was enjoying his time chatting with his first friend as they told Hagrid all about their first week of lessons. Fang enjoyed the rest of the time before they left by resting his head on Harry's knee and drooling all over his robes.
Gabby, being veela, thusly part avian, hated Filch and Mrs. Norris with a growing passion. She was delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git.'' "An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. Do yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filch puts her up to it."
Between the two of them, Harry wasn't quite sure if either Filch or Mrs. Norris would be walking away from any encounter with Gabby or Hagrid. Although, with Hagrid being employed by Hogwarts, he wouldn't likely do anything that would have the end result of him being sacked. Harry would put his foot down and refuse to allow such an action, but Hagrid didn't need to know that, yet.
While Gabby and Hagrid prattle on about various subjects, a familiar piece of paper caught Harry's eye. Harry picked it up from where it was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.
(HPSS pg. 141-142)
"Hagrid," Harry queried. "Did you by any chance make a trip to a certain vault for Dumbledore on my birthday?"
The shattering of Hagrid's mug on the floor was the only reply Harry got from a stupefied Hagrid. Hagrid was shaking for a few minutes as he stared blankly at Harry. "Blimey, Harry. I know I should expect yeh to know some things from the future but how come yeh know 'bout that?"
"I'll take that as an affirmative then," Harry shrugged.
Hagrid looked pensive for a minute before giving Harry a stern look. "Now see 'ere Harry, there are some things yer not to be meddlin' in an' this is one of 'em. I dunno how yeh even know 'bout the stone, but jus' yeh forget 'bout it. It's for yer own good."
"I wish I could do that," Harry answered solemnly. "But I can't risk Quirrell getting his hands on it. I plan on holding off Voldemort's rebirth for as long as possible."
"Gahh, Harry. Don' say that name!" Hagrid cried out, shuttering. "An' what makes yeh think Quirrell would try to steal it? Quirrell's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd
do nothin' of the sort."
"Ever wondered what's under his turban?" Harry shot back, making Hagrid's eyebrows shoot up. "Heh, it's a wonder that last time the biggest issue he faced, besides Dumbledore's own protection, was Fluffy."
Hagrid dropped the teapot and poured tea all over his newly repaired mug and the table.
"How do you know about Fluffy?" he asked.
Harry waved him off. "How I know about Fluffy isn't important. What is important is that you don't talk to anyone about him. We don't want to make Quirrell's job any easier now do we?"
Hagrid's fist slammed down on the table. "I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "Now, listen to me, both of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. It'd be best yeh forget bout Fluffy an' the stone. It's plenty safe where it is."
"We wish we could believe that Hagrid," Gabby said softly, taking Harry's hand and leading him to the door of Hagrid's hut. "Unfortunately, the past speaks for itself."
They left a fuming Hagrid and made their way to dinner.
Emrys Common Room, Hogwarts, Northern Scotland
The weekend passed by quickly for Harry and his girls. Much of their time was spent either in the trunk mansion hanging out, where Ginny had often joined them, or out on the Hogwarts grounds enjoying themselves. Harry could hardly remember any of his time at Hogwarts previously being so peaceful, and felt more than a little out of place with such a normal life at the school so far.
Harry knew it was too good to last. Monday morning Daphne spotted a notice pinned up in the common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday, and Emrys house would again be joining Gryffindor and Slytherin to learn together.
"Typical," said Harry darkly, remembering his first and only flying lesson.
"Have you decided if you are going to play Quidditch this time around?" Gabby asked him.
Harry shook his head. He had a lot on his mind since he came back. There were many things he wanted to do, but Quidditch just didn't cross his mind. Harry loved to fly. He really did. And he missed his old Nimbus 2000. There was often nothing better to clear his head than a nice long fly through the mountains and over the lake. To feel the air rushing around him, to feel completely free again. Harry smiled.
"I haven't decided yet, but I think I will," Harry answered.
"You really should," Tracey encouraged. "You're an amazing flyer. They are going to have to bend the rules preventing first years from playing anyways if they expect us to have a full team for Emrys House."
Harry looked around at the rest of the House. Fred and George had evil glints in their eyes. Nobody would be stopping them from their beater positions anytime soon. Katie, Angelina, and Alicia were both grinning at him with thumbs up. The former Gryffindor star chasers were up and ready to go against even their old House. Harry knew Professor McGonagall and Oliver Wood were both scandalized at losing Gryffindor's almost entire Quidditch team, and then allowing them to play against their old House! Still, if Harry joined, they would still need a keeper.
Harry finally nodded, causing cheers to erupt. The Weasley twins patted him on the shoulder, smiling goofily.
"Harry, mate," Fred began.
"This is going to be bloody marvelous!" George continued.
"They aren't going to know what hit them."
"Now all you have to do is land yourself on the team as punishment again."
Harry shrugged. Getting on the team wasn't going to pose much of a difficulty. "I'm going to enjoy shutting Malfoy up again."
"You said it," Daphne growled. "I'm getting sick of having to listen to Malfoy go on and on about how great he is at Quidditch, but I know that's all talk."
Malfoy hadn't changed. He still talked incessantly about flying. He had been overheard several times already complaining loudly about first years never getting on the House Quidditch teams and swore that he would have his father bully the rest of the Hogwarts Board of Governors into allowing him on the team.
Harry knew it wouldn't work, but he also knew Malfoy would just have his father buy his way onto the team again. It didn't faze Harry. He had easily beaten Malfoy every time he ever played him. Now, with more experience, there was no chance that Malfoy would ever get near the Snitch while playing against Emrys House.
Great Hall, Hogwarts, Northern Scotland
Harry snorted. Even after viewing Harry's memories, he had still caught Hermione reading Quidditch Through the Ages. At least this time around she knew that this was something you couldn't learn by heart from a book, but that didn't stop her from trying.
Neville seemed very intent on memorizing every word of Hermione's lecture, desperate for anything that would help him stay on his broom later that day. Still, Harry knew it was no use. Neville was fast gaining confidence in himself and his abilities, spurred on by his new friends, but he just didn't have any talent on a broom.
Everyone else was delighted when Hermione was finally interrupted by the arrival of the mail. Harry had only a couple letters from Remus since the start of term. Remus informed him that he and Narcissa were doing quite well and asked about how his first week of term went.
Nothing today, but Harry quickly noticed a barn owl bringing Neville a small package from his grandmother. The entire Emrys House already knew what it was.
Quickly opening his package in excitement, Neville showed them all the small glass ball in his palm.
Neville was opening his bag to put away his Remembrall when Malfoy appeared over his shoulder and snatched it out of his hand.
Harry jumped to his feet and had the tip of his wand to Malfoy's neck before he could move an inch away.
Malfoy's eyes widened at Harry's reflexes. Without a word he dropped the Remembrall on the table in front of Neville and walked away with Crabbe and Goyle following behind him.
At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Gabby, and the other Emrys students made their way down the front steps onto the grounds for the flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, perfect for flying. When they arrived at the smooth, flat area opposite the forbidden forest, the Slytherins had already arrived and the Gryffindors, led by a sneering Ron Weasley, were just arriving.
After taking a headcount Madam Hooch blew her whistle. "Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
In seconds, the students from all three Houses were standing alongside the thirty school brooms and awaiting her instructions.
Harry had only ever once had to use a school broom, but he knew everyone hated them. Glancing down at the old comet 260 beside him, Harry was surprised that the broom was still able to fly. It was horrendously old and half the tail twigs had fallen out.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom." called Madam Hooch, walking down the middle of the two lines of students. "Now say 'Up!'"
"'Up!'" everyone shouted.
Harry's broom jumped into his hand instantly and he felt the familiar thrum of a broom in his fingertips.
The rest of the class had varied success. Neville's broom didn't even budge.
"Don't fear it, Neville," Harry said quietly. "Don't doubt yourself. Believe that it will follow your command and will it to happen."
Neville nodded his thanks and reached out his hand and tried again. Instantly, the old broom jumped into his hand, surprising the boy. Several students had heard Harry's instructions to Neville, and watched as the clumsy Longbottom heir faultlessly called the broom up to his hand.
Shortly after, the rest of the class had succeeded, gaining Harry an approving nod from Madam Hooch.
Madam Hooch then began to show them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.
Malfoy was red with rage when she told him he'd been doing it wrong for years. Looking around to make sure no one had noticed her correction; Malfoy went bright red at the sniggers coming from the Gryffindors.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, I want you all to kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Hold the end of your broomsticks firmly but softly to keep them steady, slowly rise a few feet, and then land by leaning forward slightly.
"Now, on my whistle," she called, putting her whistle to her mouth.
Seconds later Harry had a feeling of dejavu. Neville, still nervous about being in the air, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Harry watched grimly as Neville shot straight up and around the Astronomy Tower twice before falling off the broom from nearly one hundred fifty feet in the air.
Twenty feet of the ground, the neck of Neville's robes were caught by the head of a Gargoyle on the wall, but his momentum and weight quickly tore his robes and the class watched as the scared, white-faced boy dropped to the ground with a loud thud and a nasty crack.
Running over to the fallen student, Madam Hooch whipped out her wand casting diagnostic charms, her face as white as Neville's.
"Oh dear," Harry hear her mutter, shaking her head. "You've got a broken wrist. Not to worry, we should be able to have you fixed up in a jiff at the hospital wing.
Madam Hooch turned to the rest of the class and gave them each a stern look. "None of you is to move while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing! If even one of those brooms is an inch off the ground before I return, I'll see you expelled before you twitch your wand. Come on, child."
Harry watched Neville clutching his wrist in obvious pain, walk away, following Madam Hooch.
The moment they were out of eyesight, Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face? How'd that squib even manage to get that broom to fly? It couldn't wait to get him off!"
Ron and the rest of the Slytherins sniggered at Malfoy's snide remarks.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Hermione.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson. "Not like he needs it from you. Even a pureblood squib is better than you, filthy little mudblood."
Harry saw red, but before even he could react, Gabrielle's wand flashed and blasted Pansy off her feet.
Hardly paying attention, Malfoy had made his way over to where Neville's Remembrall glittered in the sun.
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Malfoy turned to Harry and smiled nastily. "Why should I? I think it'd be better left somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about up a tree?"
"I should have known that you wouldn't have learned by now. Hand it over now or we can repeat your lessons, Malfoy," Harry stated calmly, but Malfoy had already grabbed his broom with his right hand and soon had it hovering high above the ground.
Hovering along the top of the tree line of ancient oaks he called down, "Come and get it, Scarhead!"
No sooner had the words left the Malfoy's mouth; Harry was on his broom and soon felt a fierce joy as the air rushed around him, whipping his robes out behind him. It felt wonderful to be back on a broom.
~Go get him, Harry~ Gabby sent to him.
~You got it, Love~ Harry sent back.
The jeers of the Slytherins below were soon drowned out by the gasps from the Gryffindors, mixed with cheers from the Emrys students. Even half of the Slytherin girls were screaming.
With a practiced ease, Harry soon circled around Malfoy and brought his broom a sharp about face to face off with Malfoy.
Malfoy was speechless.
"You think you can fly, Malfoy?" Harry called, "Give it here or I'll show you how to fly without that broom!"
"Really? You grew up with muggles! I bet that is the first broom you've been on in your life!" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.
Harry cocked his head. Technically, Malfoy was right, but Harry knew how to fly far better than the git realized. Grasping the broom tightly between his thighs, Harry brought his wand up, with his left hand wandlessly performing the motions needed to combine the elements to form the spell, and silently incanted "Glacies Arctos!"
Before Malfoy could react, Harry swiftly brought his hands together with his wand grasped tightly. Sharp blasts of icy wind shot out like razors began to form, spinning wildly around Malfoy before quickly forming into a funnel of thunder and ice, hundreds of feet high, trapping the Malfoy Heir within.
Ignoring the gasps from below, Harry concentrated on keeping the spell at a relatively low power, so as not to kill Malfoy. The main point was to humiliate the pampered pureblood prince and to scare him witless. By the sounds of Malfoy's screams, Harry had succeeded well.
Harry could sense anything trapped by his spell and without looking could spot Malfoy being flung around, circling higher and higher. The poor old broom he was riding had already been annihilated and practically vaporized by the power of the wind, thunder, and ice.
Letting his spell go, Harry watched as Malfoy was suddenly thrown at an extreme velocity at the side of the castle. If Harry hadn't timed the release of his spell so perfectly to bring about that exact effect, there was no doubt that Malfoy would have been nothing but a bloody spot on the castle walls from being launched into it by several hundred mile an hour winds. Luckily for Malfoy, Harry's quick spell caught him half an inch from slamming face first into waiting death.
For those watching the pale, terrified Slytherin float to the ground harmlessly, Harry had already disappeared.
Upon 'saving' Malfoy, Harry had leaned forward and grasped the old school broom tightly in both hands, causing it to shoot forward at high speed. Watching the glass ball flung high into the air, Harry raced over the castle's turrets, pumping magic into the broom to steady it and increase its speed.
Harry smirked as Professor McGonagall appeared at the window of the Astronomy tower and everything seemed to go into slow motion as Harry saw her eyes go wide at the rapidly approaching glass ball, followed by the first year chasing it on a broom flying at around twice the top speed of the new Nimbus model racing brooms.
Seconds before the glass ball smashed into her face, Harry added a quick burst of even greater speed and whipped around in front of the Remembrall, catching it smoothly in the palm of his hand.
Winking at Professor McGonagall, Harry leaned forward on his broom and pointed the handle down. Slicing down toward the students on the ground at breakneck speeds, Harry waited until he was nearly a foot from the ground before jerking the handle up sharply and pulling into a forward spin, still racing at nearly seventy miles per hour as he sharply spun and brought the broom about in a perfect about face, landing softly on the ground. Neville's Remembrall was clutched safely in his fist.
"HARRY POTTER!" The scream made many of the first years, especially the Gryffindors, gulp loudly. Professor McGonagall was definitely one not to cross, and she was rampaging towards Harry like a lioness on a mission.
Internally, Harry grinned. Harry wondered if she'd allow him to use his own broom to play Quidditch.
"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -"
Professor McGonagall was nearly speechless with shock and worry, and her eyes flashed furiously, "- how dare you pull such a stunt - might have broken your neck -"
"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"
"Be quiet, Miss Granger."
"But Malfoy -"
"That's enough, Miss Bones. Potter, follow me, now."
On the way up to the castle, Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces, obviously under the mistaken belief that Harry was going to be expelled. Quickly following Professor McGonagall, Harry didn't speak up once; even to say something in his own defense. He had a fair idea what was going to happen, and wasn't nervous the way he was the first time around.
Minutes later found Professor McGonagall sweeping quickly along towards the Headmaster's office, Harry and Sirius close behind her.
Stopping short in front of the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, Professor McGonagall wasn't expecting it to jump immediately to the side without her having spoken the password.
"Come in Professors, Harry," Dumbledore's voice called out before any of them could knock on the door to his office.
Professor McGonagall stormed in and while Harry and Sirius quietly followed her in and taking seats calmly in front of Dumbledore. Harry could have sworn he saw an amused grin forming on Dumbledore's face when Harry winked at him.
"Professor Dumble- ,"
"I already know of the incident, Minerva," the Headmaster stated calmly, raising his hand and cutting her off before she could begin her rant.
Not bothering to query on how he knew of the incident, Professor McGonagall ignored Dumbledore's calm demeanor and continued. "Then you already know what my suggestion is! I have never seen such a natural flyer in my life, but what he pulled was dangerous in the extreme! Professional Quidditch players couldn't pull off what he did, and the broom he used to do it is completely dead of all magic! It's a useless stick now and every last charm on it was drained dry of power."
Dumbledore lowered his gaze to hers. "What do you suggest, Minerva? Remember your reputation for strict fairness in your temper."
Professor McGonagall stopped for a moment, calming and recomposing herself. Drawing herself up to her full height, she gave Harry a stern glare before she spoke.
"Headmaster, it is my judgment that Mr. Potter is an exemplary student and I have no doubt that his actions were provoked in some way, since the son of Lucius Malfoy was involved. However, as a teacher, and a Head of House, I cannot condone such dangerous, irresponsible behavior. Not only did he violate Madam Hooch's orders, but he also attacked a student with volatile, elemental magic in a manner which could have easily killed Mr. Malfoy. Attacking another student is unacceptable for any reason, and Mr. Potter's spell endangered Mr. Malfoy's life. Mr. Potter's disregard for the life and well-being of another cannot be shown any leniency."
Here, Professor McGonagall's face twisted in sadness as she looked down at Harry. "Mr. Potter, your parents were two of my favorite students and they were remarkable in many ways. I was proud to call them my friends. However, your actions must be punished. Mr. Malfoy will also be punished, but his actions weren't so severe as your own. I am afraid that I must recommend your immediate expulsion and alert the DMLE of your actions. They will most likely order your expulsion and snap your wand before charging you with attempted murder."
Sirius roared in fury. Snarling, he attempted to jump up and protest loudly, but Harry's firm hand on his shoulder forced him to remain seated, and looking into his Godson's eyes, he felt Harry willing him into silence.
"Harry, you can't let yourself be expelled!" Sirius nearly yelled.
Harry nodded silently, watching Professor Dumbledore for his reaction.
Professor McGonagall's eyes flashed dangerously and she looked indignant. "Let himself be expelled, Black? You act as if the child as any control over his own punishment!"
"I agree with Sirius, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said quietly, stunning his Deputy Headmistress.
"B-But Headmaster-"
"I agree with your wisdom, that in such a case, a student must be expelled. I doubt that Mr. Potter had any intention of harming Mr. Malfoy. Did you, Harry?"
Harry's grin became feral. "I meant exactly what I did Headmaster. I meant to scare the shit out of the ferret. If I intended Malfoy harm, I doubt that a quick trip to Madam Pomfrey would have fixed him up."
Dumbledore's eyes darkened at Harry's tone, remembering another youth from so many years ago speaking with the same hatred.
Professor McGonagall shrieked. "You see Headmaster! Mr. Potter has no respect for human life! We cannot allow him to endanger other student's, no matter his intentions. He still cast a spell that put Mr. Malfoy's life in dire jeopardy. If Mr. Potter didn't have such fine control of the spell, Mr. Malfoy would have died Headmaster."
Again, the Headmaster's hand coming up silenced her, making the old lioness look smug. "I completely understand, Professor McGonagall, but I cannot expel Mr. Potter on what might have happened. I will, however, take your opinion into account, but Sirius is Mr. Potter's Head of House. In this situation, where no student was actually harmed, this is his jurisdiction."
Professor McGonagall looked furious, but Sirius spoke up, quickly dispersing the majority of her anger. "Harry, I'm afraid that Professor McGonagall was correct on many points. You may not have intended harm, but your spell was dangerous and could easily have killed Mr. Malfoy. As such, I feel that I must hereby suspend you from all of your classes for the rest of the week. You will have 2 weeks of detention with Professor McGonagall however she sees fit and have lost 75 points from Emrys House."
Nodding silently, Harry accepted Sirius' judgment.
"Thank you, Harry," the Headmaster stated in a way that Harry knew he was dismissed.
"Headmaster! Surely-"
"For what it's worth, Professor," Harry's voice came from the door of the Headmaster's office. "I apologize. I know that you don't agree, but it is best this way. I have a healthy respect for the life of those who aren't inherently evil, and I know you desire to protect your cubs. You have my word that I will never hurt or bully anyone that doesn't deserve it."
With that, Harry swept out the door, leaving a shell shocked Transfigurations Professor in his wake.
"As I understand it, Sirius, you wish to speak to me of something else regarding Mr. Potter?"
Sirius leaned back, folding his hands in front of him and grinned widely. "Of course, Headmaster. Since Emrys House has been newly reestablished, I do believe we have need of a Quidditch team."
The Headmaster's eyebrows rose, eyes twinkling madly. A sputtering Professor McGonagall could say nothing as Professor Dumbledore waved Sirius to continue.
Great Hall, Hogwarts, Northern Scotland
"How did it go?"
Harry grinned.
It was dinnertime. Sirius had caught Harry as he was heading into the Great Hall and had barely finished explaining the Emrys House's new Quidditch team to him when Gabby and the rest of his house came up to them, motioning for Harry to join them for dinner.
"We've got ourselves a Quidditch team. McGonagall is going to be furious, of course. Fred and George are the beaters. Alicia, Katie, and Angelina are the chasers. I'll be seeker and Tonks is going to be the keeper."
"Are you kidding, Harry? I can't be keeper," Tonks shrieked. "I'm bloody clumsy!"
"But an excellent flier. And I've seen you practicing with the twins. They won't get a thing by you," Harry smirked, thinking about how hard of a time Professor McGonagall would have trying to put a team back together. Oliver wouldn't be pleased, and they wouldn't know what hit them when the Emrys team took to the sky.
Harry was brought abruptly out of his thoughts by Tonks planting her lips firmly on his. "You're so sweet, Harry!" she gushed. "You should really stop reminding me why it's going to be so hard waiting until you're properly grown, or I might just tie you down and have my wicked way with you."
A spluttering sound from behind them, along with shrieks and yells from several girls showed that Ron Weasley had been eavesdropping on their conversation. Harry and Gabby were both just quick enough to catch Ron bolting for the exit from the Great Hall, his shirt dripping in half-eaten food and tea.
"We start training this week. Since Gryffindor has to put their team back together, we have been given their regular periods on the pitch."
"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year," said Fred. "Gryffindor hasn't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant."
"We aren't Gryffindor," Hermione said.
"Of course we're not," George replied. "But we might as well be since most of us played for Gryffindor."
Hermione shrugged. "True enough."
Before anyone else could reply, Harry felt hostile eyes drilling into the back of his head.
"Enjoying your last meal, Potter? When the other governors hear of this, I'll have you out of this castle and charged with attempted murder before your precious muggle-loving fool Headmaster can do a damned thing about it."
Harry growled. Malfoy looked pretty pleased with himself. "You're not a school governor, Malfoy," he nearly snarled.
Malfoy sneered back at him, looking smug. "That's where you're wrong, Scarhead. The school governor positions are hereditary unless voluntarily given away by the current holder of the seat. The moment my father was incarcerated, I became a school governor. It doesn't even matter that you allowed my family to retain our Manor where my father could be released to until his trial. He can never take the position back."
"That isn't what I meant, Malfoy," Harry growled back. "I'm sure that your father has been preparing you for your position for years, and as such, you should know well enough that the school governors were given their power by the founders, to hold in trust until their Heirs appeared. At any time there is an Heir of the Founders, the school governors are magically bound to surrender control to the rightful Heir or Heirs until he or she deems fit to allow the governors to take over again."
Malfoy's face was pale with rage. "What is that supposed to mean, Potter? No Heir has come forward since the Dark Lord himself."
"I am the Heir, Malfoy," Harry said calmly, raising his hand and allowing the founders' rings to flash before Malfoy's eyes, making the blond boy's eyes go wide in shock. "I am the Heir of not only the founders, but also Merlin himself. As such, this school belongs to me. Until now, I have allowed the school governors and the Headmaster to retain their control. Push me, and that will quickly change."
Malfoy screamed in fury and went for his wand. Before anyone could move, Harry had his wand to Malfoy's throat. "This is getting really old, Malfoy. What is it going to take for you to learn the lesson?"
"What lesson!" Malfoy snarled.
Harry's eyes grew dark. "Don't. Fuck. With. Me. Or. Mine." he replied, jabbing his wand into Malfoy's throat with each word.
"You're really brave since you have a lot of people behind you, Potter." Malfoy sneered, curbing his temper. "A mere half-blood like you wouldn't stand a chance in a wizard's duel against a proper pureblood."
Harry's brow rose. "Is that a challenge, Malfoy? Are you that anxious for me to humiliate you in front of the school?"
Malfoy sneered, brushing Harry's wand away dismissively. "It's a challenge, Potter. And if I win, you have to be my servant for the rest of the year. Midnight tonight in the trophy room."
Harry smirked. The fool was going to learn a hard lesson if he believed that Harry was ignorant of the custom of magical duels. Before Harry came back, he certainly would have been, but no longer. "I accept, Malfoy. As the one to accept the challenge, I have the right to choose the terms of when, where, and the rules of the duel."
"Name the terms, Scarhead," a surprised Malfoy growled.
Harry grinned evilly. "Right after dinner, in front of the whole school. I'll speak with the Headmaster and inform him. The duel will be wands or hand to hand. No weapons. No unforgivable curses. No seconds. We fight until one of us is physically or magically incapacitated or one of us yields. Do you accept the terms?"
Malfoy was quiet for a moment, trying to find any loopholes in the terms. "Are Dark Arts allowed?"
Harry nodded, causing the Malfoy scion to get a vicious look in his eye.
"I accept."
Author's Notes:
For those who noticed, I am aware that Sirius pronounced his judgment on Harry at the end of the week, effectively only suspending Harry from his classes for the weekend… He loves his godson. Hahaha.
Did anyone see Tonks becoming Keeper? Clumsy on the ground, but an ace in the air. Anyone hear of Victor Krum?
Hmm… a cliffy. I'd love to hear back from my loyal readers about what you all would like to see happen with this duel. Shall I kill him? Humiliate him? Shall Harry lose? Shall the Headmaster attempt to stop it? Will Malfoy show up? Will Harry or Malfoy be injured? There are so many possibilities and I'd love to hear back before decided where to go with this.
I have also done some editing and correcting a few spots and have re-uploaded chapters 1-5 along with this chapter.