I don't own the origanal charaters of HP. I do own my inventions (you know who you are) but I have tweaked the story and charaters for this AU..
Now on to the story
Some days the rage is almost all consuming. Other days it's just bearable. Sometimes I dream of releasing it like a vengeance upon the world, beautifully frightening like an angel of death. Then I realize to do such would kill me. I no longer am sustained by life, hopes and dreams, but by the cold fury that holds my heart beating. Care for my common man is gone. I am not nice because I desire to do so, I am nice because to be the bitch I am would fuel the darkness in me. I am already so close to the edge so many days that adding to it would be stupid at this point. I know that I no longer have the ability to pull myself back from the abyss. Mainly because I don't want to, but it has a smidgen of the possibility that I would enjoy the darkness and wouldn't come back anyways.
In younger days passed I wished to change. I hoped I could change, that I could be the person I pretend to be. Yet as age crept up on me, I started to notice I didn't want to change, I didn't want to be the person I pretended and still pretended to be. Still I knew to feed the darkness within is a folly of the stupid. To hold it with in check a precious delicate balance reached with precariously planned thoughts actions and ideas.
Sena didn't bother to move as the heavy thick steel door groaned in protest in movement. She listened to the shuffle of feet and a heavy plop of the plate as it landed on the table. Still she didn't turn or seem to acknowledge the other presence in the room until it spoke, "I guess I wouldn't be very hungry if I had to eat that." weary old chuckle came from behind where she stared out the window. Sena didn't turn but gave an audible sigh as she responded, "Old man, what are you doing here?"
Dumbledore watched the young woman before him give a sigh. Even from the back he could tell that the weight of the world rested on those frail looking shoulders. "Old man? Pot calling the kettle black m'dear," Sena snorted but said nothing allowing Dumbledore to press forward. "Sena, dear, " He started before taking a seat at the only chair offered and with a sigh he said what he needed to say with three simple words, "It's time, m'dear."
Sena sucked in a breath at the words utterance. Time was not something she was used to, and this was something she was not ready for, at least not yet. Yet Sena had learned that greatness doesn't wait for you to be ready and neither does evil. At this she turned to look at the old man before her. Time hadn't treated Dumbledore well, the wizen wizard was looking older than his age and so much horror was etched in the lines of his face it was almost too hard to look at.
"Albus…." She started and stopped when the words couldn't come out. Out of pure frustration she started to pace around the small room. "I-I-I-I…" another large sigh left her lips as Sena stopped and turned to look at Dumbledore directly in the eye from across the small room, "Fine. " She squared her shoulders as if preparing for her death, "When do we leave?"
Dumbledore came to his feet with the speed that beguiled his age, "Why Now my dear." And with that he raised his wand and they were gone.
Dumbledore whisked Sena away from the towers to a small cottage. The place was small but homey, lived in but it was not dirty or cluttered. Dumbledore pulled a pot of water that had been heating on the fire and pored himself a cup before offering her one as well. "Have a seat. " He started as he replaced the tea kettle to its little heating nook. Without hesitation she took her seat opposite from the old man's. Quickly she loaded her steeping tea with sugar and milk and after one long almost reverent sip of the hot liquid, she turned her attention to the wizard. "What, pray tell, am I doing here?"
Albus sat down gently and watched Sena take a long almost religious gulp of her drink before turning her full attention to him. Her question should have appalled him at home straight to the point and tactless the question was; yet, he supposed at some point pretty words and protocols became fruitless among close friends and those given up on time. "You are to be my Defense Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore gave a brief sad sigh and looked at his cup of tea, "It's hard to keep a competent teacher there for very long."
Sena leaned back and crossed her arms, "And you think I am competent?" she raised a perfectly arched eye brow at him as she leaned back, uncrossing one arm to snag her tea as she relaxed. Dumbledore looked up at her question and smiled his grandfatherly smile, "Why of course I do." He stated as if that would explain everything in the world, and it really explained nothing. "Really? " Sena sat her cup down and leaned closer to Dumbledore, "And the fact that I don't use a wand…what? Escaped your plan?"
In that moment Dumbledore gave her a dry chuckle and reached deep into his robes. Soon he withdrew a long elaborately carved black engrossed box. Sena watched as he slid the box to her side of the suddenly small table. When she made no move to open the box, Dumbledore prodded her to do so, "Come now. You're not afraid of a little box are you?" Sena looked at him and gave him a cold twist of her lips, "It's not the box that one should fear but what is in it." At that she opened the box. In it on a bed of silk sat the pretest wand she had ever seen. Sena briefly thought that if she had imagine a wand for herself she would have thought of this one, long and curvy like an ancient tree, black and shiny that seemed to absorb the light around it.
Albus watched the young woman slow retract the simple wand from its case and examine it. He wasn't sure what called to him about the wand, just that when he went to the wand shop, it was this box that had flown at him. Even the shop keeper remarked at how curious that was but nothing more. Albus knew though, he always knew or was rather not far behind to knowing. He watched silently as Sena with childlike excitement tried her new toy. With a practice flick, Sena sent papers flying about the room in a whirlwind that had her laughing gaily. Once the wind had settled down, Sena looked at Albus with a renewed twinkle in her eye, "Oh yes, " an audible gasp of pure pleasure left her, "This will do me quite nicely."
Dumbledore gave her a nod and slowly stood, allowing for his bones to pop and creak in protest. "Then my dear, I will see you in a little bit after you settled into your rooms of course." Albus gave a slight nod and turned to the door, "You're ride will be here in a n hour." He gave a brief pause before stepping out; he turned to look at her, "Play nicely Sena…. Ah! No, Madam Professor Tellbridge." And with that he was gone out of the small cottage and down the small path away from the cottage.
Sena nodded at the door; slowly it closed keeping the slight chill in the air out as the fire gave off enough heat to warm the small quaint area. Sena gave a quick through search of the cottage. Once she found nothing to perk her interest, she sat down in a huff before a thought occurred to her. A quick glance in a mirror confirmed the thought 'BATH TIME'. Opting not to use the wand Sena clapped her hands together and gave a slight rub as if to warm them. Quickly she flicked them away from her; music filled the room with muggle music she enjoyed as a large bath tub appeared in the small space in front of the fire. A few snaps of her fingers and piping hot water with all the required soaps and extras.
The steam rising from the water was almost enough to make her weep for join, she didn't but she almost did. Soon Sena was sprawled out in the water soaking. Within minutes the water was turning colors as the dirt and grime slid from her to the water. Unable to enjoy her bath with weird floating shit in her bath, Sena gave a disgusted snort and snapped her fingers instantly getting fresh water in her tub. Unfortunately, it turned colors afterwards as well. Giving into the need to wash so that she could relax, Sena set to the task of washing.
Soon she had all her pale skin flushed red from the heat and constant scrubbing. She worked on her hair, using magic to help rinse and wash the grime from the floor length tresses. One glance at the clocked and she acknowledged that she had 15 minutes. Before her transportation would be arriving. With a grunt, Sena hauled her body out of the water. Out of the corner of her eye she say her reflection in the mirror. Out of selfish curiosity Sena moved closer to get a better look at her-self. Something she had not done for a very, very, very long time.
She stood there studying herself unabashedly. Her frame was long and lean but she was short maybe 5'5 if that. Years of hard training and lack of better food had carved out a very toned albeit fragile looking body. The lack of sun had given her porcelain skin which was a stark contrast to the long almost midnight hair that flowed around her body to the floors. All in all she found her-self pleasing to look at, but the almost overwhelming of self-hatred was still there at the surface. Instead of acknowledging the emotion, Sena stamped it back down into the hole it came from before turning from the mirror.
Quickly assessing that she had no clothes, and none were to be found in the quaint cottage. She decided on the outfit she wanted and then it materialized in front of her, laid out in detail. Soon Sena was dressed in a pair of loose black cargo pants, a snug black t-shirt, pair of sneakers and a long cloak completed the look. A rough finger brush and a quick tie gather most of the long strands up and off the ground. Just in time as it would seem as the knock on a door came.
Approaching the door cautiously Sena cracked it open and looked out to an antiqued looking carriage sans the horse. The coachman was simply a set of old groomsman clothes, complete with gloves and a top hat and nothing else but air in between. He even raised the hat in a greeting before motioning to the opening door. Smiling at the complete absurdity and normalcy of the thing in front of her, Sena chuckled to herself, stepped up into the carriage, thanked the groomsman and promptly shut the door. The noise seemed to set off in motion the carriage ride, which for all its antiquated looks was a rather smooth ride.
Dumbledore returned to his office after leaving the cottage deep in the forbidden woods. His trip had waned on him more than he thought; he thought time was finally catching up to him. Unfortunately, Dumbledore would have to analyze the cynical thought later as he stepped into his office he was greeted with a rather growing problem Harry Potter. The boy who lived had such potential, still did but with the constant threat of death looming over his head, the young man had seemed to snap during his fourth yr.
Dumbledore had theorized that with time and patience the young man would heal from the constant horrors and disappointment that plagued his life. He was still hoping that, yet right now the Boy Who Lived was showing his rebellion, not that anyone blamed him. Dumbledore just wished it didn't usually end up with the boy in his office. The old wizard sat down and stroked his beard deep in thought as he pictured the young man, as he once was to what he had become. The thoughts almost showed the inevitable progression of Harry turning towards the punk lifestyle; after all where else would a bunch of misfits with crap lives fit it.
Dumbledore stopped stroking his beard and looked at the notice of Harry's latest mishap on his desk. Standing up, Dumbledore moved over to the viewer and poured the memory in before plunging himself in to see for himself what had occurred.
A Class of sixth years sat in their potions class listening to the professor explain the more advance techniques and required patience for the particular potion they were making. From the smell that was coming off some of the cauldrons it could be safely assumed that the potion being created was a specialized tonic for those suffering the dark curses. The stuff smelled like a dead cat in the middle of summer, but tasted worse than a rotten egg, yet the stuff did wonders.
In the middle of his lecture, the professor stops and turns to a bunch of snickering from the back of the room. "Mr. Malfoy….." the professor called out in his dreary mono-tone voice, "Yes professor?"" asked the blond Slytherin prince. "Do you find my lecture funny?" the older man asked clearly un-amused at having to stop his lecture. The blonde man gave the professor a serious look and replied, "Of course not professor. I just find it hard to concentrate with potty-er distracting me." This had the professor turning his malicious stare to the other boy at the back of the room, minding his own business. Twisting his lips at the apparent displeasure of seeing the boy the professor addressed him, "Well then, 50 points from Gryffindor, continuing to distract other students." No one bothered to protest at the blatant dislike for their house. The professor didn't need an excuse to take points but when he did it was usually potter's fault any ways. Throughout the years everyone had just simply given in to the silent battle of the wills between the Potions master professor and the Legendary Boy Who Lived.
Harry displaying restrain not usually found in his age stared at the professor blandly but said nothing. He had learned the more you defend again stupid the more you would lose. When the professor saw he would not gain the rise out of the house nor out of the accused, the professor turned back to the front of the class and started lecturing again.
In the next scene Dumbledore watched as another set of children attempted to get Harry in trouble, this time it was in herbology class. Sadly the result could have been disastrous if Harry hadn't actually reacted. They were weeding out Fanged Geranium, when one student from Slytherin whispered a spell and flicked their wand. Quickly the plant mutated into a rather large carnivorous plant. The problem wasn't one large looking plant but a whole set that were suddenly popping out of the ground and biting the students. The teacher Professor Sprout was attempting to handle the students that were getting harm as he sent someone to gain madam Proffrey and Additional assistance.
Dumbledore watched as the scene quickly turned to chaos as the creatures kept up their reign of terror. Dumbledore's attention zoned in on Harry. The boy watched the scene with disinterest at first before he leaned over to help Hermione who was facing off with an unruly plant herself. Hermione gave a nod to him as she stepped out of the way. Harry withdrew his wand and yelled" duratus et liquefiet" all the plants froze, each opened their mouths as if to wail, the sound that came out was silent before the creatures seemed to turn into goo splashing all of the students. Sprout was relieved that the attacking plants were gone but was livid that his plants had to be harmed.
Dumbledore pulled from the viewer knowing he would not need to see the rest to know that while Harry had done the right thing in the matter there where something people just still wouldn't let go no matter if the outcome was better than what could have happened. Dumbledore walked towards the window and gazed out of it as he thought of his next move.
Elsewhere…
Harry Potter sat in a oversized chair in the Gryffindor common areas. His leg was thrown haphazardly over the arm of it as he read the tome in front of him. Softly the clank of his chain from his boot filled the silence as he tapped his foot to some imaginary sound in his head. "HHHHHHHHHAAAAAAARRRRYYYYYY…." His name was like a whispered gargled as Voldermort tried to reach out to him through their connection. Harry had learned to block him out most days, but today had already been trying and seemed it would continue to be something as an apparition. "Haaarrryy, yyyooouu look unwelllll….." Harry turned the page not bothering to look up to response, "Still looking for you Voldy." The nickname seemed to annoy the apparition as its face twisted in anger, "Caaaannn yyyoooouuu fffeelll it…..I aaammm ccclooosin in….." Harry paused in his ready to look at the apparition to smile cruelly, "Oh I can feel it. Like a fly to the light you are. :
He would have said more but it would seem that fate had other plans. At that moment the apparition disappeared as some of his housemates made their ways through the common areas. All of them gave a nod in acknowledgement, some of the girls going as far as a, ''ello 'arry.', before gaggling off to their rooms. Some of the boys opted to stay in the common area, plopping down and discussing the quidatch match coming up. "Please hug-puffs don't stand a chance against our Harry…right?" Said a third-year boy; the high flying game could still illicit a response from the punk'd boy as nothing else could, "Damn right. Not ruining a good record for them!' Harry reached out to the third year who'd held out his hand for a slap of agreement.
It was Ron that had to point out the only possible problem with Harry getting to keep his record, "You think they'll let you play after …?" Harry sat up letting his leg fall to the ground with a soft thump as his boot heel made contact with the stone floor. He gave a shrug as he leaned his elbows on his knees, "I guess that will be up to the headmaster." The other boys nodded in sympathy, all having noticed how most of the teachers didn't need a reason to go after Harry anymore. Dumbledore seemed to be around only when Harry was facing major punishment, otherwise he was off doing important D.A things. Allowing the teachers more freedom to pick and choose and unfortunately everyone knew that Harry Potter just seemed like an easy target no matter what he did.
Although a few boys would agree that the all black skinny jeans, worn sex pistol t-shirt, combat boots, ever changing hair color, chains and piercings did seem like a bit much for the wizarding school even if it was under his robes. Not that they would tell him that. Most had learned when Harry came for his fifth year that something had changed. Gone was the exuberant young boy, now there was harden cold young man who liked to wear chains and shove spikes in his ear. Where once was a boy who would help anyone if he could; now unless it was to his benefit he wouldn't lift a hand. Although to be fair, the last time he had helped someone out of the kindness left in his heart; it did not turn out well for any party involved.
The students if pressed would acknowledge that the only ones that seemed to be immune to the cold looks from Harry were his friends who had been beside him since the beginning. Yet, some could argue that they were not completely but what did they know of the action of others behind closed doors. . So they watched as Harry animatedly talked of his favorite game before dinner was called.
Ron and Harry waited as the others left the common room to finish before dinner whatever it was they needed to do. Once the room was cleared Ron leaned close to Harry and whispered to his best friend, "What's up?" Harry gave a non-comitial shrug. "I know it's something…." Ron pried his best friend. He knew that Harry had been trying for moths to shut him and Hermione out. That wasn't going to happen if they had anything to say about it. With a sigh Harry shook his head and stood to grab his coat, "Just lost in my head Ron. Nothing else." Ron seemed to accept the answer as he moved to grab his robe as well and moved to leave out the secret entrance. Ron paused to wait for Harry to join him before they continued on to the dining hall.
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