Disclaimer:I do not own Harry Potter. The characters represented in this work belong to Ms. J.K. Rowling.
Due to some helpful advice I realized my writing style was all wrong and my chapters too short. Some of them may still be shoddy in the near future, since I'm just starting out, but here is my revamped version. I hope it's a bit better than the last. I appreciate the suggestions and advice in the reviews.
Harry Potter has never appreciated being lied to, and now as he lies in the hospital wing, half conscious, listening to the manipulative old headmaster talk with Remus Lupin, he realizes that he's been played by both of them.
"It's done sir. Black's out of the picture, this time permanently, and I think Potter will turn to me, since I'm supposed to be Black's best mate,"the soft spoken werewolf says.
"Good...very good Remus. You've done a wonderful job. I'm very proud of you Child,"the venerable old man replies, and Harry can practically hear the twinkle in his pale blue eyes. "Severus?"The old man asks.
"Yes Headmaster. The boy still distrusts me, even moreso since I stopped his occlumency lessons."Severus says softly. Albus nods contentedly, rocking back on his heels and unwrapping a lemon drop, popping the sweet into his mouth.
"Good. We can't have our young martyr befriending you sly and cunning Slytherins, now can we? If he does, he may begin to understand. How is dear Bellatrix doing by the way?" Severus rolls his eyes, but answers the rather sarcastic question nonetheless.
"Not well, Headmaster. She's taking Black's death hard. As a personal insult, one might say. You'd do well to never let her know that it was you that imperioused her, Wolf."Severus replies, and Harry can hear the disgust in his silky tone when he directs the last of his words toward Remus. Now Harry's utterly confused.
'Lupin imperioused Lestrange? Dumbledore is using me? What the hell is going on?' He wonders, bewildered.
"The boy's waking up."Severus drawls silkily. All three men cast a quick glance to the boy, who stirs a bit to make his "awakening" a bit more realistic.
"Ah, very good. It seems young Harry will pull through quite nicely. Severus, you'll see to it that he takes his potions?"Albus says, and though it's posed as a question the commanding tone of his voice is plain to hear.
"Of course. If the arrogant brat refuses I'll shove them down his throat,"the potions master sneers in response. Albus chuckles and Remus rolls his eyes.
'Am I mistaken or was that said almost playfully?' Harry wonders, vaguely convinced that too much exposure to the cruciatis curse must have blown a new personality into the cold wizard. 'Hmm, as long as he's acting decently I wonder if he might teach me occlumency again. I'll ask him later.' He decides.
"Oh Severus, do behave."Albus chortles before turning to Remus. "Shall we?"He asks, and Remus nods, following the headmaster from the room. Severus watches him go as he and Harry listen to their footsteps soften and gradually fade completely.
"Mr. Potter, I know that you can hear me so do open your eyes."Severus drawls, a moment later, once he's certain they're gone. Harry sighs and sits up, scrabbling for his glasses before watching the Slytherin curiously. "You heard most of that, didn't you?"The onyx eyed man asks softly. Harry nods in agreement. "I'm sorry that you had to, but I felt that you had the right to know."Severus explains softly.
"Sir...you hate me. Why are you helping me?"The young Gryffindor asks, thouroughly confused by the potions master's act of kindness. Severus sighs, wondering if he should tell the boy the truth. He eventually decides that perhaps one day he will, but not just yet. He's a man of many secrets, and is reluctant to part with his most closely guarded.
"I hated your father, Mr. Potter. You are not your father."He eventually settles on informing the emerald eyed teen.
On the Hogwarts Express, during the ride to King's Cross, Harry is unusually quiet and withdrawn. Ron repeatedly tries to interest him in talk of Quidditch or a game of Exploding Snap, but Hermione quietly informs him that perhaps Harry isn't feeling up to par yet, after the unexpected and tragic loss of his friend and godfather. Ron, though not fully understanding, does in fact know when to leave his friend to his brooding. In reality, though Sirius' death does hurt, it's the betrayal of the headmaster and Lupin, two men that he thought he could trust with his life, that hurts him the worst. And, to make matters worse, he finds himself wondering if Ron's in on any of this. He desperately hopes that he isn't but sometimes the redhead can be jealous and petty.
Once off the Express, Harry forces a smile for Mrs. Weasely, who quickly sees through the facade. She, like Hermione, attributes it to Sirius' death, and the motherly witch reaches out to embrace him, offering him the comfort his relatives never would.
Speaking of relatives..."There you are Boy. Well come on then! I don't have all day!"Vernon Dursley rumbles as Harry lugs his trunk to the car. He'd left Hedwig with Hermione for the holidays, to keep her safe. If Ron's petty, his uncle and cousin are far worse, and he worries for his familiar. "Get along then!"Vernon says, before giving a very put-upon sigh. "Once we're back you'll put that trunk of yours away and you'll start in on the chores immediately. Is this understood?"
"Yes Uncle Vernon."Harry sighs, realizing that he really doesn't have a choice in the matter. Now it's back to chores and his cousin's bullying. At least until Dumbledore decides he's been punished enough for one year, anyway. Harry isn't sure whether he hopes that will be soon of not. At least while playing the houself for the Dursleys he'll have time to think things over without having to put on a cheerful facade for his friends, and the ever watchful Mrs. Weasely.
"Dudley, I have a question for you."Harry says three days later, waving a five pound note in his muscular cousin's face to gain his attention. Dudley quickly snatches the money and cocks his head curiously. "That's your money now, Big-D. There's more where that came from if I get the answer I'm looking for."The green eyed teen entices. At Dudley's impatient guesture to continue, Harry smiles. "How much would I have to fork over for boxing lessons?"He asks.
Over the next month, the training that Dudley puts his cousin through is gruelling, but it isn't long before Harry starts to notice a difference. A slight difference to be sure, but a difference all the same. His only real form of excercise over the past few years has been Quidditch and fighting for his life. Next to the second form, boxing with Dudley seems like a cakewalk.
"Come on then. You can do better than that, you scrawny git!"Dudley laughs,dodging an uppercut from Harry, who growls in response. "Want me to stand still for you? I've got news for you Potter. It doesn't work like that. You think that Mouldywart bloke's gonn'a stand still while you knock his lights out?"Dudley ribs him. Harry snorts in amusement. Only a Dursley would call the feared and evil Dark Lord "Mouldywart".
"Why are you helping me anyway?"Harry asks curiously as Dudley forks over a bottle of flavored water. He peers at the larger teen over his wire-rimmed glasses as Dudley shrugs, seeming just a bit embarrassed. Finally Dudley clears his throat nervously before speaking.
"I -well besides the money anyway- I just figured I never...er...you know,"he trails off, mumbling something unintelligable. He sighs when Harry gives him an utterly bemused look in response. "I never thanked you for saving me from those bloody dementoids, alright? I figured I should,"he grumbles, hoping no one catches him spilling his guts to his freaky cousin, of all people. Harry, seeing how uncomfortable Dudley is, nods and decides to leave it at that.