Harry Potter & The Dark Revelations

Chapter III: Talk About A Good Start…

A/R: Hi people! Here's the chapter, not much, but enough to answer at least some of your questions… Enjoy!

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They entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table, preparing themselves to starve through yet another Sorting Ceremony, as they did every year. The only person who appeared to enjoy having to wait to get decent food after an 8 hour-long train ride where the only comestible substance available was candy seemed to be Hermione. And, as it happened every year, Ron was the first to take on the responsibility of voicing the opinion of everyone else.

"Urgh. I'm starving. I can't wait for the Sorting to be over."

There was a general murmuring of agreement at that comment. Harry rolled his eyes at the predictability of it all when Hermione shot her yearly comeback at the red-haired whom everyone but her seemed to know she was in love with.

"But the Sorting Ceremony is very important, Ron!"

Which was quite true, of course, but as Ron so elegantly put it,

"To them, Hermione. To the first years. Not us. We, may I remind you, have already been Sorted."

Thankfully, the procession of first years chose that exact moment to enter the Hall, led by professor McGonnagall. As the students watched them enter, Harry realized that the line wasn't ending. How many first years were there anyway? He hadn't seen that many at once in all his time at Hogwarts.

"There must about eighty of them out there…" someone said in awe.

Ron moaned and let his head drop in his hands.

"Yes," Harry answered, "they were all born between September 1983 and August 1984, weren't they? Almost 2 to 3 years after Voldemort's downfall. The magical Community must've felt safe by then, and they weren't scared of having children. We're the exceptions, really. We're the few babies who survived his reign…"

A lot of people stared at this sudden show of hindsight.

"Hey! That's probably true!"

"Huh. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."

"That actually makes sense."

"You know Harry? You could be right."

 Really, Harry thought, do these people think I'm incapable of logical reasoning? Why was it such a big deal that he said something logical? He hated this. Every time he opened his mouth to say anything remotely interesting, people stared at him as if realizing that he had brains after all.

Thankfully, another conversation started soon enough.

"Hey, have you realized how deserted Diagon Alley was this summer?"

"Yeah, I'm wondering if people actually believe Voldemort is back… With the ministry denying everything, I wouldn't have thought it possible that they accept it so soon…"

"I think," Hermione joined the discussion, "that it's more the students who're responsible for that. See, they're the ones who really believe Dumbledore, and they probably ran home telling their parents not to leave the house. Whether or not the parents believe the facts isn't an issue, most of them probably thought it was just a crisis that would pass, and decided not to scare their children by going out too often…"

Harry actually thought along the same lines as Hermione, but had refrained from pointing out his ideas given how people would react. He raised his eyes towards Ron and said; "You realize that Voldemort has got the upper hand right now. His next move could very well define how the entire war will turn out…"

Ron, ever the strategist, understood the meaning of Harry's words immediately.

Seamus looked lost, as did Dean. Actually, nobody else at the table had quite understood what Harry meant, not even Hermione. Ha! See if he would explain his thoughts now, when everyone acted as if him making sense was a wonder.

Ron explained when Neville stammered a fearful "W-what do you m-mea-mean?"

"See, You-Know-Who got his body back didn't he? Now, when Dumbledore learned that, he had to tell the community. If he hadn't, the Death Eaters would've attacked without anybody being adequately prepared. But now that he actually told people, most will start believing him, since Dumbledore is such a respected wizard. The problem in that is: You-Know-Who will probably not do anything at all… And that's why he's got us in a strategic trap. If the Death Eaters don't show themselves, everyone will say Dumbledore was wrong, they will start discrediting him and his word, and in the end, nobody will believe him at all…"

While Ron paused to let this sink in, Harry, looking at the tabletop, slowly said: "Indeed; and that's the problem with being Dumbledore. He's admired and respected by the whole community. He's a really powerful wizard, and in a position of great influence. That's why people have so many expectations from him. They look up to him for just about anything. That's the problem: he's only human after all, but many wizards don't realize that. One tiny mistake, one flimsy error and he's frowned at and doubted, and people loose faith in him. In other words, he can't afford to be wrong."

There was silence. Then, Hermione said in a trembling voice "Oh, Harry!"

Harry looked at her. Then, at the rest of the table. Apparently, everyone seemed to think that what he'd just said applied to him as well.

"Hermione," he said seriously, "Dumbledore is in that situation because he brought himself there. He has already showed his worth countless times; he's the one who chose his own path. It's nothing like me at all. People are justified in expecting so much from him, because he's made himself known for what he is, he has taken the lead numerous times. I, on the other hand, don't have any expectations to live up to. People would be wrong in expecting things from me. I have no other obligation than perhaps stay alive so the media can advertise a myth of who I am in order to sell their papers."

To his dismay, he realized that no one at the table looked guilty, as they should. They didn't realize the truth in what he'd just said, on the contrary, most of them seemed to think he was wrong. Even the muggle-borns, he noticed, believed him to be the wizarding world's saviour.

Ron cleared his throat and continued: "Yeah, well, as I was saying, people will stop trusting Dumbledore. The Dark Lord will actually hit two people with one curse, since once the public decides he hasn't returned to a body, Harry will be called a liar and maybe even a criminal… And then, there's the ministry. They don't acknowledge the Dark Lord's return whereas Hogwarts does. When nothing happens, people will think Fudge was right all along and they will trust him instead. And everybody knows just how corrupted the ministry is. I mean to say; Lucius Malfoy is one of the people Fudge trusts the most. That's the exact moment when You-Know-Who will strike, when the people are unprepared. And he'll have the ministry in control by then. Also, imagine the psychological effect on people: when the Dark Lord does strike, they will realize Dumbledore was right all along, and blame themselves for not believing him. Chances are, most of them won't even fight back, depressed as they'll be. By that stage, there will be only one thing left for the Death Eaters to do. The last ingredient will be to kill Harry, since a lot of people see him as the Saviour. When he's done that, the Dark Lord will have erased all hope. The magical community will be his to control… Check Mate."

Harry surmised that 'to hit two people with one curse' meant 'to hit two birds with one stone'. And 'the last ingredient' was probably 'the last ingredient in the potion (before it explodes)' or, in muggle English, 'the last straw on the camel's back (before it collapses)'…

Everybody at the table was staring at him and Ron with their mouths hanging open. Harry could see they were scared. Or rather, terrified. And with reason: everything Ron had said was so logical, they probably felt trapped already. Some second years and first years (that the table hadn't even realized had joined them, caught up as they were in their discussion… nobody at the Gryffindor table had applauded since the beginning of the Sorting) were actually crying their eyes out at the prospect.

Harry, on the other hand, had just had a brilliant idea…

"If you're quite finished terrorizing your fellow students, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore and I wish to have a word with you."

That was Snape. No one else could speak in a voice that sounded like velvet yet struck like a whip.

Harry turned around, eyebrows raised; "Now, Sir?" The implication was quite clear, coming from a teenage boy: 'but I'm hungry!'

Snape only narrowed his eyes, before growling a nearly silent "Now."

Harry and Ron got up, dreading what was about to happen to them. Snape led them down to his office. "Sit."

They sat. Snape left. The two boys were left to silently contemplate what on earth they'd possibly done wrong now, before term had properly started.

A few minutes later Dumbledore and Snape joined them.

"Good evening, boys" the headmaster greeted in his usual cheerful voice.

"Evening," was the mumbled response. The headmaster sat down at Snape's desk.

"There was quite a commotion at the Gryffindor table tonight. Why, you students have even failed to notice the Sorting. Naturally, professor Snape and I wondered what it was all about."

"It was Mr. Potter, headmaster, who'd decided yet again he wanted to be the centre of attention," Snape sneered, "He and his friend Weasley have apparently decided to feed theories of approaching doom to their fellow students in order to remain the main attraction of the evening."

"Ah, yes. Professor Snape has told me all about your little conversation at the table," he chuckled, "I see you boys have it all figured out…"

If the two professors were trying to make them think that their theories were wrong, they could try harder, Harry decided. He'd spent all summer thinking about the consequences of Voldemort's rebirth. He'd really thought of every single possibility. Of course, he wanted to say, when you're responsible for the rebirth of the worst evil the world has ever known, you stop and think about the consequences. But instead, he decided to make them understand that he knew he was right by acting as if there was no other possible interpretation of the situation. Which there wasn't, in any case.

"Not everything, Sir," he said in a steady voice, "we didn't quite figure out what you plan on doing to avoid such consequences yet."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Of course, the illustrious Boy-Who-Lived could never be wrong, could he?" he hissed, "Not even when what he says could cause an unprecedented panic attack among students. Tell me boy, did you finally realize that you weren't qualified to pass the OWL exams? Thought you'd spread chaos trough the entire population of students, did you? Maybe that way, the school would postpone the exams to better suit your personal purposes."

Harry wanted to laugh at that. Why would he waste time on such a plan when he could study instead? Not that he doubted his capacity in any way; he'd already been studying for the exams since the beginning of summer.

"You flatter me, professor," he said instead, "I would have to be quite cunning in order to accomplish that, wouldn't I? And cunning is one of the most prized qualities of your House, and one that you promote above all else. It is an honour to be thought of as cunning by the Head of Slytherin House."

Snape's lip twitched. Was he trying not to smile? Or was he trying not to sneer too openly? As Snape was about to answer, Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him from talking.

"I see," he said heavily, "that you are not to be mislead. Yes, boys, I admit your theories are ones we, too, have come up with. But don't worry," he winked, "I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve. And no, I can't tell you what they are" he said as Ron opened his mouth eagerly. "You must understand, however, that your theories shouldn't be spread around for all to hear. We don't know what the consequences of that may be."

"I beg to differ, headmaster," Harry spoke politely, "if the students know about these specific theories, they'll probably take them into account. Even tell their parents, maybe. It might reduce the chances of the whole community turning their back on Hogwarts, if they know that's exactly what the enemy has planned for us."

"Also," Ron continued, "You-Know-Who will merely be surprised if he finds out that these theories are circulating in the community. He planned this a long time ago, I think. Or it may only have been a coincidence in his favour. But he knows you well enough to know you understood his strategy. Even with us telling the other students about our theories, he still has the upper hand, since he probably already took into account the possibility of you disclosing this information to the community. He was just waiting for you to play that card when people started loosing faith in you, at which point he would have used it in his favour, making the ministry say you were mad or senile. Right now, all that will happen is he'll think you thought ahead, but that won't disturb him any, since he still has the upper hand."

Boy, Harry thought, when you call Ron an expert in strategy, it's an understatement. He too had thought about all this, which was exactly why he'd introduced the topic of conversation at dinner tonight: to make people aware so they wouldn't turn their back on Dumbledore. There was no risk in telling the students, as Ron had explained, and Harry himself had known this. But the difference between him and Ron, in Harry's opinion, was that his hindsight into these facts was more the fruit of boredom and a well-tuned self-defence mechanism against depression; as opposed to any innate talent such as Ron seemed to possess.

Dumbledore smiled, "I see you really have thought of everything. Now boys, can I ask you a favour?"

They nodded.

"Why don't you leave the thinking to us from now on? I know you are concerned and worried, but you need to focus on your studies more than anything else. Leave us adults do the worrying. Voldemort thrives on fear, he wants you all to be too afraid to do anything else, and that's exactly what I want to prevent. Do you understand?"

Ron nodded, albeit reluctantly. Harry sighed and said "All right, sir."

He wasn't going to do as he was asked, but better to let them think he would.

"Now, off you go to the feast."

When the two Gryffindors had left, Dumbledore looked at Severus, who had an inscrutable expression on his face.

"What are you thinking about, Severus?"

"Those two, Albus," he answered, "should have been Slytherins. They would've learned a lot, and their foolish behaviour would've only been a bad memory after one year in my House. They're cunning, a fact which I had never realized. Especially the Potter boy… You know the only reason Potter started talking about Voldemort at the table is because, as Weasley said, it would have a positive effect on our side, and the Dark Side wouldn't care." He turned to look at Albus. "In other words, he actually planned this."

Albus smiled; yes, the two boys, though in quite different ways, were cunning. Ron was really a strategist, and Harry was more skilled in estimating people, their reactions and their thoughts. But Albus had another, more important concern.

"Severus," he said, "have you realized something wrong with Harry?"

Severus sneered, "Yes, there are many things wrong with Potter, headmaster. Which one are you referring to?"

"I'm serious, Severus."

Severus frowned slightly. "No, I don't think there is anything out of the ordinary with the boy, Albus. Why do you ask?"

Albus shook his head… maybe it's just me, he thought. "I just had a feeling, but if you don't think there's anything wrong…"

Severus smirked, "I always say you worry too much, Albus. And I also say you have a short memory. There's still a feast going on, if you care to remember."

Albus shook himself, "Oh yes, yes… quite right."

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When Harry and Ron sat down at the table again, they were shocked to see that the Sorting was still not over. Nobody at the table was paying much attention to them, they were watching the first years. A little while later, Dumbledore and Snape entered and walked to the High Table.

When, finally, the first year students were sorted, Hermione said, "There are ninety-five first years in total: 26 in Ravenclaw, 20 in Hufflepuff, 24 in Gryffindor and 25 in Slytherin. That's 24 students here, 11 girls and 13 boys. That's too much work…" Hermione seemed worried, and for good reason. She was a prefect, and those students would partly be her responsibility. Ron comforted her, saying she shouldn't worry; she'd do a good job…

Dumbledore gave a short speech, the main point of which seemed to be how he was happy that nobody got sunburned too bad, and let them eat.

"Aren't you eating, Harry?" Hermione asked after 10 minutes.

Harry looked up from his plate. "Uh, no. I'm really not that hungry."

Hermione gave him a look. Harry immediately got up, knowing she would soon make a fuss about his eating habits and how skinny he was, said, "I'm going to bed" and left the table. He stopped by the sixth year Gryffindor prefect, got the password, and made his way to the tower.

Finally alone, he took out a book on the Dark Arts and settled on his bed, drawing the curtains around him, and sealing them with a flick of his wand--a handy spell that enabled the person inside the bed to be the only one who could open the curtains.

When Ron came up, he didn't bother talking; he was too tired and went to bed too.

Harry didn't sleep that night either.

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As September 1st was on a Friday, they got a whole weekend before classes started. Harry kept on taking his Wakefulness Potion, so as not to endure any nightmares at night, and spent the whole weekend reading his new school books. He hadn't finished reading them during the holidays as he'd mostly studied the Dark Arts.

On Monday, he got his timetable and realized he didn't know who the DADA teacher was. Their first class for the day was Double DADA (with the Slytherins), and Double Potions in the afternoon, followed by a free period (and Runes for Hermione). They had a new History of Magic teacher though: Fleur Delacour. Harry didn't know how or why Binns had left, but he was glad for it.

"Ron, who's the Defence Teacher?" he asked.

"An Auror named Dunkirk. A woman. I think it's the first time she's teaching."

And indeed it was her first time teaching, as she told them later, during their first class. The most interesting thing they learned that day, every student seemed to agree (and for once, Slytherins and Gryffindors shared the same view), was that as their first chapter was about vampires, there would actually be an outing to Transylvania…

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Harry was outside in the backyard. It was raining. It was 11 o'clock at night. He was weeding. How, you ask? Even he had no idea. He couldn't even see his hands, but Petunia had asked him to weed the garden, so weed he did.

He got up, walked a few steps and bumped into something. Loosing his balance, he fell. But before he hit the ground, something was pulling him up again, by the front of his shirt. They actually pulled a little too much, and he was lifted off his feet. Then a voice hissed in his ear.

"Watch your step, mongrel"

Vernon. Of course. Who else?

He was dragged into the kitchen, where his uncle proceeded to punish him for bumping into him. He was given the usual beating at first, but his uncle soon got tired of that, and put his nephew's fingers in water. Then, he handed him a pair of scissors. Harry gulped. He knew what would happen next, and he hated it.

After being sure Harry had grabbed the scissors by the metallic side, Vernon grabbed the boy's wrist, by the sleeve,  and pushed forward, so that each of the scissors' ends were stuck in the plug. In short, the teen was electrocuted.

Harry screamed.

Vernon laughed and pulled his hand out. He repeated the process more times than Harry cared to count, all the while insulting him.

"Now, boy, have you learned your lesson at last? Wake up… Psst, Harry wake up!"

Harry opened his eyes. Ron was nudging him again. Wha--?

"Mr. Potter."

Oh bloody hell. Of all the times and places to fall asleep, Potter… Harry sat bolt upright in his seat.

"I think Mr. Potter has not quite grasped the concept of a class. Apparently, in his mind, there is no reason why a student should sleep outside of class time," Snape sneered, "I think you would agree, then, Potter, that it is only legitimate that you should come back later today, when you are fully awake. See me after class."

Harry cursed at his own stupidity and inability to stay awake. At the end of the class, when Harry stayed behind, Ron didn't appear angry at Snape, and could only give his friend a sympathetic smile, seeing as he knew the detention was legitimate. Hermione, on the other hand, shook her head and 'tutted'. Well, Hermione had always hated any non-disciplinary behaviour…

When the class had left, Snape said, "I expect you here at eight o'clock tonight, Potter."

Harry nodded, saying, "Yes, sir"

But Snape didn't appear to be listening. Instead, he was looking at Harry's face with narrowed eyes.

"What, pray tell, happened to your face?" he hissed.

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A/R: Hehe! This is it! Nice cliffhanger, ain't it? Oh, come on, this was a lot longer than the previous chapters. I get to write a long chapter, I get to write a cliffhanger… right?

Ok, ok… The only reason I'm not stopping here, is because I have a paper due Tuesday and won't write for a while.

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"Excuse me?" Harry looked at Snape with an eyebrow raised. He had no idea what Snape was talking about.

Snape conjured a mirror and handed it to Harry. Harry looked. The Concealing charm! It had worn off. Bloody Hell. Harry had forgotten to treat his most recent injuries, and a Concealing Charm lasted about 3 or 4 days, if it wasn't renewed. His bruises were visible. He looked a mess. Harry didn't know what to say. Did he even have any obligation to tell his teacher?

"Mr. Potter."

Harry looked back at his teacher.

"I'll ask you once more, before I decide to take the matter to the Headmaster."

Harry cursed silently. He tore his gaze away from Snape and glared at the wall. In a barely audible voice, he said, "Street fight." No way would he tell the truth.

"Come again?"

Harry sighed heavily and looked back towards his teacher. "Street fight," he repeated, "I'm part of a clan, in the muggle world. We have street fights, with other clans."

Snape frowned. "I see," he said, and with a flick of his wand, made the mirror disappear. Harry cast the Concealing Charm again.

"I expect you here at eight o'clock sharp. You may leave." Harry left.

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Once in his dormitory, he gathered his Potions Supplies and headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He prepared a Potion that would cure all his bruises, save the ones on his face, and another one that would cure the welts on his back and other such injuries. Better not to let Snape find out about those, if he decided to investigate further…

That night, when he reached the classroom at eight, Snape first told him to go to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him. She scanned him for injuries with her wand, gave him potions for his bruises and mended his broken bones and ribs with a potion and a complicated spell. Harry himself hadn't mended them, just put the bones in a temporary stasis where they didn't hurt him any. Mending bones was still too difficult for him.

When he came back to the classroom, Snape gave him his detention and didn't mention the topic again.

~*~*~*~

The weekend of the 15th, it was time for the 5th years' outing to Transylvania.

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A/R: finished. Was it long enough for you? Next chapter could take a while. But the longer you wait, the longer the chapters are. The midterms are coming up, see, and I'm behind on all my classes... But I'll post the next chapter ASAP.

Why is it taking so long for Snape to realize what's going on? Because I need that for character development. First, he'll have suspicions. Then, they'll be confirmed. Why? Because I'm trying to be realistic… Those fics where Harry literally up and tells them, or Snape changes his view of Harry in a night are wonderful to read, sure, but would never happen. There are two things in this chapter, which are very important to the future of the plot. Foreshadowing and/or hints, let's call them. Why not focus on them? Please don't hate me for this chapter, I know it was bad. But believe me, I have a lot planned and coming up is Remus Lupin.

God, I've lost all the readers, haven't I? If you're still reading, leave me a review, please, and leave your e-mail address if you want me to tell you when the next chapter is up.

Anyone who wants to Beta this fic will be showered with gratitude.

So, how bad was it, really?

Terra Aeris