A/N: This came along unexpected. To be truthful I cannot promise a continuation but I hope I do. I would appreciate constructive criticism.

Warning: If this does continue, it will contain slash. I don't believe it would be rated R though.

Throwing down the Gauntlet, Taking up the Ax

By Miss Eliza Azraelian

The sound of her voice was like metal scraping metal after she had become like an irate mother. Her annoyance, that's what the scraping was, since she could truly careless. Oh, yes, she could most definitely careless, if it weren't for the money. He snorted, her voice stopped, and he knew she was glaring at him.

"Harry! What is with you? Were you listening to anything I've said?" Hermione Granger, know-it-all of Gryffindor most assuredly was not pleased, especially at the fact that Harry just started laughing after that. He had already slipped up with that snort, might as well take control of the game. Of course, Hermione didn't quiet, and continued on to say, "Would you rather I not care? Would you rather I leave you alone to take of yourself?"

To this she expected the wimpy little Golden Boy to profusely apologize and give reason to his action and an answer to what was bothering him. Instead, the laughter stopped abruptly, and daggers stabbed cleanly through Hermione. He stood, hands on the table, a strong voice, determined, and unsympathetic replied, "Yes. I would."

The silence was staggering. Ronald Weasley finally picked his head up from what ever Quidditch book he'd been reading to stare at the scene. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, didn't just glare at Hermione, there was no anger shown on his face, but for his eyes that were glaring coldly. It was a face a Slytherin would hold. His first assumption was that this wasn't Harry and someone was impersonating him to find things out. But something didn't seem right with that assumption.

"Harry mate what's wrong with you?" Ron was expecting Harry to cool down suddenly and profusely apologize. He was mistaken.

"Quit the act Ronald. Did you think I didn't know? Think I wouldn't ever find out?" The cold glare changed, and there was burning fire seen in his eyes. "I've been playing the part wanted for me since I arrived here. A foolish little first year I was, but it didn't stay like that for long. Wanted the money so badly didn't you? Wanted to be in the spotlight, even if it were in the shadow of The Boy Who Lived? Pathetic.

"Stop the charades; I ain't interested in playing anymore." He grabbed his bag, and placed the book he'd been reading in it. He stepped away to leave as Granger suddenly seemed to get her voice back.

"Precious Potter, what do you know?" The taunting and attempt at a sneer disgraced Granger's face. Harry turned back to her, annoyance evident.

"I'm not your little sheep and I never was so stop herding me. I'm through with the likes of you." He turned and walked away, but stopped after five steps to look back. "I also know that you're a half-blood, how else would you know everything." With that issue taken care of, he walked away. Strode was more exact, his robes billowing behind him giving him a commanding presence, even if they were the plain Hogwarts robes.

----

That evening at dinner Harry sat with Neville Longbottom and Ginevra Weasley, true friends. Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw was a friend to Harry as well. Ginny had been disgusted with her brother from the time she had figured it out. When she had gone to Harry over the summer after the Department of Mysteries she found that he already knew. He said he would continue to play the part until he felt it was time to turn the tables, but let her have the choice if she'd play one now as well or out rightly despise Ronald. She now took joy in hating her brother, and had sent a letter off to her twin brothers, Gred and Feorge, for supplies.

It was not missed at the Gryffindor table that the Golden Trio as it were, were not. Oh no, not at all, if Ronald Weasley shooting daggers usually saved for Malfoy at Potter was any indication. Weasal didn't know how to keep quiet either.

"What's the matter Potter? Your friends leave you out to rot?" Ronald assumed Harry was missing them and moping, or some such nonsense. When in fact Harry had been having a nice dinner of macaroni and cheese while discussing some curses they had been working on in Defense. Dinner was now spoiled.

"No Weasel. In fact I was quite relieved to finally shed myself of your harping. Now excuse me, I was eating." Harry had turned to look at Ronald with no feelings shown on his face like earlier in the library, and then turned back to his meal. The next thing was a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to get punched in the face. He gave a sigh of having more useful things to do, but stood up from the table anyways. The only phase from the punch was the desire of satisfaction to pummel Ron, the muggle way.

He faced Ron, and of course they now had the eyes of nearly everyone in the Great Hall. Ron was always so easy to anger and flew of the handle in a snap. This time was no different. Harry wasn't going to disappoint him of a fight, only of the victory.

"Think you're all big and mighty do you? Go rot potter." Ron took another swing at him, and the words he said had clearly not been well thought out. Of course, Ron's IQ must be below average. Harry bent backwards to miss his ex-friend's fist, if he could even be called an ex-friend. He brought down his arm, elbowing Ron at the base of his neck. Ron fell to the ground in surprise. Harry waited a second for Ron to stand up.

"Going to stand up? Or are you as I said before?" Harry didn't care that everyone was watching, he was rather enjoying continuing Ron's taunting by turning it on him. He emphasized the word as he spoke it, "Pa-the-tic." In an un-Gryffindor like fashion he kicked Ron back down as he began to get up. Then let his hatred show with a swift strong kick to the boy's ribs. There was a crack and he smirked in satisfaction. He knelt down next to the boy speaking softly in his ear. "You don't know me Weasley. This is a warning." He stood back up and was hoping to just eat the rest of his dinner, but those hopes were crushed.

"Mr. Potter I would like to see you in my office." Crushed by one Headmaster Dumbledore, powerful wizard, and manipulative bastard. "Ms. Granger please take Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing." The old man began to walk out of the hall assuming Harry would follow like a sick puppy. Harry stood for a moment or so debating on ignoring the Professor. "Mr. Potter, now." It was a much more demanding tone then the Professor ever used with students. Figuring there was enough of a show tonight Harry gave Neville and Ginny a smile and waved declaring that he'd see them later, before skipping happily after the Headmaster. He figured he should make the best of it, and what better way then to aggravate the Headmaster and take everything with a smile.

----

The Headmaster sat behind his desk with his jovial expression, but Harry was not fooled. Even so, his happy act was on.

"Good evening Professor Dumbledore. Wonderful day, don't you agree?" Harry lounged himself in one of the comfy chairs, kicking his legs over one of the arm rests. His insanely happy looking grin and glinting green eyes, he shimmered with glee.

"Harry," Dumbledore tried on his grandfather mask, "Do you need to talk about something?"

Instead of getting angry at the old man's inquiry Harry replied with a simple no. Then came the mischievous part. "Unless of course you could explain to me about sex. I mean," acting hesitant and wondering if he could pull off a blush, "all my friends know things. I never had anyone to explain it to me." That was a lie. Remus had sat down to have a talk with him, all nervous, but it was laughed off later. Harry already knew about such things. Remus was infinitely relieved.

Dumbledore was thrown off guard and Harry thought he might be able to see a blush. "Uh, well, you see." Dumbledore took his glasses off and wiped them on his beard, stalling for time. Harry watched him with amusement. It took a few more seconds for Dumbledore to notice something. "That was quite unexpected Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes, oh yes I'm the Golden Boy, if this author writes that one more time I am going to grab a torch and set fire to her laptop. "Is it? Hm. Maybe you just don't know me as well as you thought you did?" He had been staring at the ceiling; the smile left his face and replaced with a smirk. He then stood, straightening his clothes. "Well, I believe we're done here, yes?" Not waiting for a reply Harry walked to the door.

"Detention tomorrow night with Professor Snape, 8 o'clock, Harry."