New Chapter. Thanks for reading the previous one. I just want to point out now, that Harry will seem rather OOC in some parts, in case you hadn0t noticed it in the previous chapter, but this is all due to the fact that he is, well, a very dark Harry who had a taste of absolute power in the previous timeline… and enjoyed it. That, and he is Hermione-obsessed. Don't get me wrong, he genuinely loves her, but has developed an almost unhealthy obsession with her. She's just about the only person he cares about.
"Can you believe the way that Krum caught that snitch!? It was incredible. Mate, how can you not be more excited about it? And you, Hermione, didn't you see that, that poetry in motion?"
"Krum… Krum who?" Hermione was still dazed from the kissing, as Harry had made sure she would be thinking only of him, and no one else. He couldn't help but smirk as he heard her answer.
"Bloody hell, Hermione! How can you ask that?" exclaimed Ron, dismayed.
Harry and Hermione had joined the group at the very end of the match, and, thanks to the notice-me-not charms, the rest hadn't noticed. Hermione, still too dazed after the kissing session, didn't even think to question their lack of interest. They were now walking back to the tents, and the whole Weasley family was rambling on about the match, while Harry and Hermione remained silent; casting sideways glances at each other.
For the first time in seven years, Harry felt completely, and irrevocably happy. Really, there he'd been, expecting to dedicate the next few months of his life towards wooing Hermione, and he'd gotten her as his girlfriend in a day's time! But he wouldn't rest, however. He knew that this year Krum and Ron would start showing interest in her, and he did not plan on sharing. He would not be at peace, in fact, until she had a ring around her finger, and she was forever joined to him. Well, he also had to kill Voldemort, of course, but his priorities had to be in order.
Thinking of Voldemort, he was suddenly reminded of the fact that a bunch of deatheaters were scheduled to attack tonight. He briefly contemplated letting things happen just like they did the first time, then decided against it. Really, what would be the fun of going back in time if he didn't take advantage of it and experiment? He then contemplated defeating the deatheaters secretly, and images of a masked superhero filled his head. But really, why should he hide his powers? Let Voldemort and the world see just how powerful he was, perhaps then they would learn not to treat him like a child.
After having to listen to Ron ramble on incessantly, and showing tremendous amounts of willpower by not shutting him up permanently (lucky for the backstabbing bastard, he'd had a good day), it was finally time to sleep. And, knowing he would be woken up just in time anyway, he fell into a peaceful slumber. Unfortunately for the deatheaters, Harry had been in the middle of a particularly pleasant dream involving a certain bushy-haired witch and strawberries, so when he was woken up, he did not feel all that forgiving. The nerve of those people! Waking him up in the most inconvenient of times!
He was surprised, however, to see that it was not Mr. Weasley who'd woken him up this time, but his now girlfriend, Hermione Granger. Feigning innocence, he asked:
"Hermione? What's going on?"
"Oh Harry!" she exclaimed "Wake up, quickly!"
"Wha…why?"
"There's no time! There're death-eaters outside, Harry! Mr. Weasley told me to go outside while he warned the rest, but I simply couldn't leave while you were still here!"
Harry had to restrain the urge to do a victory dance, and quickly gathered his things. He noticed that, since he hadn't even taken out his wand at all during the day, and kept it close to him, he actually had it. Not that it mattered anyway; wandless magic was so much easier once you learned to do it, but at least that wannabee deatheater wouldn't use it to plant the dark mark overhead.
Holding Hermione's hand in his, they stepped outside, even before the rest of the Weasleys did. The group of deatheaters was there, levitating the muggles in the air, subjecting them to humiliation. Harry had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, and struggled to appear fearful. But really, attacking some defenseless muggles? And nobody doing anything to stop them? Really, dozens of wizards and witches against a handful of deatheaters, how dumb and cowardly could you get? The worst part was that most of them weren't even running, just watching the scene with a mix of fright and morbid fascination. Well, if they wanted a show, he'd give them one.
"Harry! What are you doing?!" Hermione held on to his hand, even as he approached the group of men.
"Stay back, Hermione" hissed Harry "I'll be done in a moment."
"Get done with what, Harry? You're going to get yourself killed, that's what's going to happen, and I don't plan to sit by idly and watch!"
Her grip on his hand did not lessen, and he sighed, but was still inwardly pleased. This was the loyal, fierce, determined Hermione he'd come to love; and he wouldn't have her any other way. Besides, it's not like anything could happen to her as long as she was with him. He would protect her.
The whole camp seemed to go still, as the two teens stood right in front of the group of hooded figures, who had now let go of their victims, rather disconcerted by the appearance of a certain boy-who-lived. Nobody dared move, and Harry, was the first to speak, "So Lucius, how's the home life treating you? Too bad your son can't be with you, right? Might have been nice to have some family bonding time, but well, I'm sure he's hiding around here somewhere, watching his daddy torture a bunch of defenseless people."
A collective gasp came from the crowd, as the name of such an important man was mentioned so casually, and by the boy-who-lived, nonetheless. It did not take long for a hooded figure to step forward, no doubt a certain Malfoy, and hiss, "You'll pay, Potter. It'll be such a pleasure to kill the acclaimed savior of the wizarding world" then, he called out, "Crucio!"
Hermione flinched instinctually, but Harry merely pulled up his hand, and a visible blue light enveloped the both of them, preventing the curse from hitting them. Unfortunately, he had to let go of it quickly. As powerful as he still remained, this body didn't possess quite as much stamina and power as he was used to having, but it was definitely enough to get rid of the little pests. This spectacle, of course, had every witch and wizard glued to the spot, not believing their eyes. Let them watch, then thought Harry Let them see that I'm not to be messed with. Let them fear my power.
Deciding that a little dramatism could come in handy, he summoned a gust of wind, and his eyes emitted a deep, green glow. It was all purely for aesthetic purposes, of course, but they didn't have to know that. He grabbed Hermione close to him, she had a very confused look on her face, but Harry merely smiled, reassuring her.
The deatheaters were taken aback by this display, but soon proceeded to fire off spell after spell, all of which were easily deflected by Harry with a wave of his hand. Deciding that he'd put on enough of a show, he took the offensive, and with another motion of his hand, all the deatheaters levitated off the ground, struggling around. What Harry did not expect was for one to quickly gather his bearings, and take advantage of the moment to aim a spell at Harry, which would have hit him, had Hermione not interfered.
"Defendio!" she shouted, and the spell bounced off. It was strong enough to shake her somewhat, but no damage was really done. Harry was thankful that the girl he loved happened to be such a brilliant witch. Really, she was the only one suitable for him.
Deciding that a repeat of the incident would not be all that welcome, he summoned all of their wands, grasping them in his hand, then let all of the hooded figures fall to the ground… from a considerable distance to the floor. He was too drained to use his wandless magic on all of them, after all that (which bothered him. In the previous timeline, all this would have seem like child's play to him), but he grabbed one of the wands and used it to cast an incarcerous on them all, binding them together. He was a bit disappointed, even. He'd expected them to put up more of a fight, but maybe it was for the best. He was a lot weaker than he used to be, and he couldn't help but feel that something was amiss. Turning around, he saw the whole crowd, staring at him, open-mouthed, and had to suppress the urge to smirk. It didn't take long for them to recover, however, and a few of them started clapping, spreading the excitement until cheers could be heard from everyone, with shouts of "The savior of the wizarding world!" and "The boy-who-lived!" ringing among them.
He noted with morbid amusement that these same persons who were now cheering for him, would betray him just as quickly, if the opportunity called for it, and a wave of disgust overcame him. But no matter; the only person who's opinion he cared about was Hermione's, and she was now his girlfriend (and really, if it were up to him, she'd just as soon be his wife). Besides, whatever they felt for him was irrelevant; they would all eventually come to rever his as a God, or if not, well, fear him very much. He pondered leaving quickly to go in search for Barty Crouch Jr., who might be hiding in the woods or something, since he'd botched his attempt to establish the Dark Mark, but was prevented from doing so by the arrival of the Aurors, followed by Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman. How convenient for them, to arrive right after everything had been taken care of.
Of course, the first reaction of the newly arrived was to stare in shock at the bunch of cloaked figures, lying on the ground and tied up. A young auror, who later presented himself as Tom Handall, was the first one to regain his senses; and , sensing how everyone's attention seemed to be directed towards the two teens , approached them.
"Would… would you care to explain what happened here?"
"Sure" replied Harry "These men were attacking innocent muggles; nobody was doing anything about it, so I took action and incapacitated them. Feel free to take them now and get them into Azkaban, or whatever."
Crouch, who was not far behind, heard this reply and exclaimed "Nonsense! As if a single boy could take care of a whole group of deathetaers by himself! Now, tell us the truth kid."
"You are right, I did not do it by myself" replied Harry, but Crouch's mocking grin soon fell off once again, "Hermione here helped me. And I don't care if you believe me or not. There are dozens of witnesses right here" as he said this, he pointed towards the crowd that kept surrounding them, "You can just ask them, if you want."
Harry's statement was followed by further cries of, "Our savior!", as well as cheers, leaving no doubts as to the truth. Bagman and Crouch grumbled, and it looked as if Crouch was about to add something else, when he was stopped By Arthur Weasley, who approached both kids, shock quite evident on his face.
He told them to join the rest of the Weasleys, while he stayed behind in order to fix a few things with the Aurors; and, just as was expected, not only were Harry and Hermione practically assaulted on their way back, but also mauled by the red-headed teens, once they'd gone back into the tent.
Harry was not sure how to explain his obvious increase in magical power, and decided to answer simply: he had studied during the summer, his powers had improved considerably, and that was that. Granted, all of his words were coated with a compulsion charm, but whatever, the important part was that they believed him. Hermione, though, seemed the tiniest bit skeptical, though she did not express her doubts out loud. Of course though Harry Leave it to Hermione to be the only one able to slightly resist my compulsion. No matter, if things get out of hand, I'll just have to be a bit more forceful. I hope I don't have to, though.
Claiming he was tired from the day's events, he went back to his room, but instead of sleeping, concentrated on his next move. He'd felt much too weak during the fight. Granted, he'd still been able to easily defeat the deatheaters, and freakishly powerful, but his overall power had been much greater as a twenty-five year old; heck, even at nineteen. Something did not feel right. It was almost as if something was blocking him, making him unable to access his full potential (which was considerable), and he had a nagging suspicion that he knew what it was. He decided to test his theory the next day, when he snuck out to visit Gringotts. As well as getting his emancipation, he needed to sort out a few other things, such as his title as Lord Potter, which he'd only learned he held once he'd become of age. Not even then, actually. He'd never stopped to pay attention to his account until Voldemort was defeated. Once that was done, and he was ruler of Britain, he0d found out that his family already possessed quite some standing in the Wizengamot, as well as a VERY vast fortune and properties.
At what time would he be able to slip out without being noticed, though? He pondered this briefly, but decided to wait until the next day and see when the opportunity presented itself. H e would just apparate over there. It wasn't like anybody would suppose him capable of doing such a thing. With these thoughts in mind, he drifted off to sleep, his dreams occupied by the image of a certain bushy-haired witch. And whipped cream. And other…stuff. He really needed to get his lust under control. Otherwise, it'd drive him mad!
----
The next morning he woke up rather early, planning on perhaps an early-morning escape. This plan was ruined, though, by the presence of Hermione, sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast already. H e did not mind, though, since, it was, of course, his dear Hermione. So he sat down beside her and proceeded to talk with her. She seemed a bit pensive, and, after a while, he asked her what was going on.
She fidgeted, biting her bottom lip, which only increased Harry's already burning desire to kiss her lips, "So much happened yesterday, Harry" she began, "It's hard to take it all in. First, whatever it is that happened with us. Then, your little display of power. It's… overwhelming, seems a bit hard to believe that you could change so much in one year. I mean, you were always good, and powerful, Harry, don0t get me wrong, but that… that was just…."
Shit! Thought Harry I knew it. The girl is too smart for her own good. She didn't fall for my compulsion charm. Quick, quick! Think, Potter, think. You've had no scruples for the last seven years, you should just put her under the Imperius and that's that. But... then she wouldn't be MY Hermione…
It was as he was sorting through his internal ramblings, though, that the first part of their conversation dawned on him: "whatever it is that happened between us". What did she mean by that? Wasn't it obvious? It suddenly struck him that she'd never actually answered his question. She'd hesitated, and then Harry had assaulted her mouth, and she responded, but she never uttered a positive answer. Harry felt like his whole world was collapsing around him.
"What… what do you mean?" he sounded weak, like a small child again, and he hated it, but could not help it "Weren't… didn't… aren't you my girlfriend?"
He sounded so unsure of himself, so insecure, he could hardly recognize himself.
Hermione stammered, seeming not to have expected his answer, "You mean…" she began, "You really meant it?"
Harry looked at her like she was crazy. And to him, she was. How could he not have meant it? Sensing Harry's questioning look, Hermione continued "I… I thought you might… I don't know. I don't know what took over you. It was so out of the blue. At first I thought it'd all been a dream. But then, when I woke up this morning and realized that it wasn't, I couldn't help but think that you… I mean, it doesn't matter, Harry. You don't have to feel tied down to me because of what happened yesterday, I won't blame you for it."
Harry's questioning gaze did not waver… really, what was the girl rambling on about?
"I mean" she continued "I know you've had a crush on Cho for a while now. And with how you've grown, how you look this year… well, she'd be a fool not to go out with you. All the girls in the castle, probably, will be fighting for you. So you don't have to feel tied down to your bushy-haired, know-it all bookworm of a best friend, just because of something you didn't even mean."
For the first time in a long time, Harry was able to see the insecure little child that Hermione hid so well, behind her strong and bossy personality. She was fiercely loyal, brave and independent; but deep down, she still harbored a lot of insecurities because of her childhood. Harry knew she'd had trouble making friends.
Really, she could be so dense sometimes. Couldn't she see how pretty she was? Ha, as if he'd ever let her go. The concept was simply laughable. No one else would ever be allowed to take her. She was his and only his, just like he was hers and only hers.
He held her chin up, since she'd begun to look down towards the floor, sometime in their conversation, and kissed her. This time, he tried to be gentle (key word being tried), to show her how much he cared. But his passion could not be held back, and he soon had her pressed against the kitchen wall, moaning his name, one leg hooked around his waist.
"Hermione" he breathed against her lips; his voice was husky, ragged "Do you really think I'd possibly want anyone else? Don't you see what you do to me?"
"Are you… sure?" she breathed back, suppressing a moan.
"I'm sure" he answered, a wicked grin on his face, "Now, tell me Hermione, please say it. Do you want to be my girlfriend?" He nipped her neck as he asked this.
"YES!" Harry could not tell whether such an emphatic reaction came from a deep desire to be his girlfriend, or the things he was doing to her, but he was inclined to think the latter. Either way, she was his girlfriend, 100% officially. He grinned against her neck, as he continued kissing the soft flesh, her moans and grunts only encouraging him further. He pressed her even harder against the wall, needing to feel her mold into him, press against him.
It was a few minutes later that they stopped (albeit very reluctantly, at least on Harry's part), wary of someone coming in and catching them in such compromising positions. And just in time too, for it was not much later that the Weasleys began waking up. Harry felt particularly uncomfortable when Ginny directed him what could only be described as a very lust-filled look, undoubtedly inspired by last night's display of heroism. Really, like he needed another fangirl.
Everybody was still in a daze after what had happened, and Ron was particularly annoying. He nagged Harry over the course of the whole breakfast, insisting he should teach him how to do wandless magic. Harry argued that it could not be taught, that you simply had to concentrate and focus on your own magical core, and draw your magic from it. But this explanation did not please Ron, who thought Harry was trying to keep the secret to himself and get more fame and attention, and began acting a little cold towards him.
This suited Harry just fine, and, in fact, helped speed up his plans. He wanted to use Ron's jealousy over the goblet of fire incident, as an excuse for not being friends with him anymore; otherwise, it could be suspicious, and he also feared Hermione might be torn between them, since, as annoying as Ron was, she didn't really know just how much of a coward and a traitor hid behind that best friend facade. Now that Ron was showing signs of jealousy and a very annoying behavior early on, he might be able to cut off their friendship earlier than he had hoped for. Yes, this was indeed very good.
Thanks to Harry's slight compulsion charm, not one of the Weasleys spent any more time questioning how he'd gotten his powers; and for this he was rather glad. If only he could get the little slut and the bloody traitor from his back as well! But, it seemed, no amount of compulsion could keep those two away.
He pretty much passed the rest of the morning in that manner, trying to hide from the Weasley prats, intending not to go outside (for really, as much as he loved to show off his power, he was not in the mood for ass-kissing right now), while trying to get some time alone with Hermione and continue their earlier "activities", but, sadly, he never succeeded in his goal.
Finally, he decided it was time to head for Diagon Alley, but could not, for the life of him, create a decent excuse. Normally, he'd create an illusion of himself or something of the sort, but that sort of magic required a tremendous amount of power, and, since he'd come back in time, he did not possess enough of it. Although, if his suspicions were correct, he'd soon be back to normal power.
Deciding there was no real option (and really, he didn't care that much anyway, if they found out), he stated he was not feeling very well, asked not to be disturbed, got off into a room all by himself, locked it, and apparated right into Tom's pub, not bothering with a disguise. Why should he need to hide himself? No, once, he may have cowered from his fame, but now he didn't; and never would again.
Without sparing even a second glance at Tom, who was still a bit startled after the surprise of seeing the boy-who-lived apparate right into his business, he went ahead and accessed Diagon Alley. He was ogled at and pointed at, and he merely shrugged it all off, wearing a mask of disdain and indifference. Some girls seemed dying to approach him, and not necessarily because of his fame. He smirked. It was amazing what a few inches and some muscle could do to a person; if he were his normal, fourteen-year old lanky self, they wouldn't be giving him a second glance. No, that was a lie; they probably would, but only to ogle at the scar that lay so prominent on his forehead.
As he kept on walking, he noticed a small stand, claiming to sell very rare, very ancient books, and he made a mental note to stop by after retrieving his money. It could be a good idea to buy a couple of them for Hermione. God knew that girl loved her books, and he loved to see her smile, be happy. Granted, he also loved to see her grateful… and if that gratefulness led to some "action", as a way to repay him, he certainly wouldn't complain. He shook his head. Really, his thoughts had been turning increasingly dirty since he'd "arrived", and it was getting frustrating. He attributed to teen hormones, but mostly to the fact that, after years of virtually no contact with any person of the female species (he flinched from the mere thought of it, he was genuinely repulsed by the idea of anybody touching him in any intimate matter, except for Hermione), and then meeting the sole object of his erotic fantasies after years of longing to see her again… well, what was to be expected?
Get your thoughts out of the gutter! He told himself I'm here on important business, it's not the time to envision Hermione all naked and tantalizing and...
He groaned, and decided then and there that as soon as he got the chance, his dear Hermione and himself would engage in a little game. One that preferably involved lots of chocolate, and whipped cream and…
As he now stood in front of Gringotts, he attempted to compose himself, and gathered his thoughts. He had some important things to discuss with a certain goblin. He was greeted (well, as much of a greeting as could be provided by a goblin, anyway) by a clerk who looked relatively young, compared to the rest, who introduced himself as Dankor and who was surprisingly amiable.
As soon as the introductions were made, and the goblin inquired as to what his business was, Harry replied, in the goblin's own tongue, and a rather decent accent:
"Thank you, I would like to speak to the manager, or whoever else might be in a position to help me. I would like to discuss some things regarding the Potter estate, as well as a possible emancipation."
"Gladly, sir" replied the goblin, surprised at the young man's good manners, as well as ability to speak the goblin tongue. Few wizards could speak it, or even cared enough to do so. Dankor contacted his superiors immediately, both because of the importance of the Potter estate, and because he genuinely took a liking to the boy.
He then led Harry to a small, empty office, elegantly decorated, and offered him a seat. A few moments later, a small figure stepped in. Dankor quickly stepped out, in order to give them privacy.
"Mister Potter" said the old goblin "My name is Ragnok. I am glad to see you here. I am told you wish to speak to me, regarding your estate."
"Yes I do" replied Harry, once again in the goblin tongue, and thus, earning the respect of the old goblin, "There are two, or rather, three things I wish to discuss with you. The first one is my inheritance, as well as my family lineage. I also want a test done on me to confirm a suspicion I've had for a while… but we'll get to that later." He paused, his deep green eyes boring into the goblin's "You see, I am aware of the fact that someone has been periodically stealing money from my vaults, and that you have done nothing to stop it."
Ragnok paled at such a tremendous accusation. Gringotts was impenetrable, untouchable. The idea in itself was preposterous. He was about to reply as such, when Harry interrupted.
"Don't worry, I am aware of the fact that you were completely oblivious to this, and it is not your fault. But…" he stated this with a menacing grin, his eyes clouding with darkness, a desire for revenge "I want to do something about it. And I want it to be done quickly."