An Ace In The Hole
Chapter Four: Harry's World
"You wished to see me, Professor?" asked Harry, easing through the doorway to Professor McGonagall's office.
"Yes, Mr Quinn." replied Professor McGonagall. "Please come in, shut the door and have a seat."
Harry surveyed his Head of House's office as he entered and found very few surprises. It was neat, clean and everything was exactly where it should be. The only surprise was the sheer amount of Quidditch themed nick knacks spread throughout the office.
"Mr Quinn," began Professor McGonagall "it has been brought to my attention that you have made the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. First, let me congratulate you on making the team. I know that Mr Wood is a fierce competitor and that you must be very good for him to have chosen you."
"Thank you, Professor." said Harry, smiling and inclining his head.
"Now, in order for you to compete, you will need a quality broom." said Professor McGonagall.
"I agree, Professor. But Wood said that it wasn't permitted for me to travel to Diagon Alley to shop for a broom during school term." said Harry politely, wondering where this was going.
"Mr Wood is correct, Mr Quinn." said Professor McGonagall. "However, I have acquired a Nimbus 2001 for you to use as Gryffindor Seeker." Professor McGonagall reached down and extracted package from beside her desk then handed it to him. "It is the finest broom available. I believe that you will find it to your liking."
Harry opened the package to reveal a highly polished black broom with 'Nimbus 2001' etched into the handle in gold lettering. It was sleek, eloquent and he could feel the power emanating from it as he held it. He couldn't stop the smirk that crept across his face.
"How much do I owe you, Professor?" asked Harry, looking up.
"It's a gift, Mr Quinn." replied Professor McGonagall, smiling. "Enjoy."
"This must have cost you a fortune." said Harry frowning.
"Then you best make sure that I didn't waste my galleons." retorted Professor McGonagall, a wry smile covering her face.
"Make room for that trophy, Professor, cause Harry Quinn is gonna make sure you have it." said Harry, a determined look covering his face.
"Play by the rules, Mr Quinn." warned Professor McGonagall sharply. "I won't permit any cheating of any kind."
"Yes Professor, I'll play by the rules." said Harry, nodding; fully aware that she wouldn't hesitate suspending him if he bent the rules too far.
"One more thing, your detention will be this Friday at eight in the evening with Professor Snape." said Professor McGonagall.
"Yes Professor." said Harry, wondering to himself what Professor Snape had done to deserve such a punishment.
"That is all, Mr Quinn." said Professor McGonagall. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend, but remember that tomorrow begins another week of learning."
"I'll be rested, Professor." said Harry, smirking and nodding as he left her office.
"Just when you think that you've got someone figured out." mused Harry aloud as he walked down the corridor, new broom in hand. "She'll have her cup, cause Harry Quinn pays his debts."
~Ace~
"What did Professor McGonagall want?" asked Neville, as Harry joined he and Hermione in the castle grounds.
"She wanted to tell me about my detention." said Harry smirking, holding the wrapped up broom behind his back.
"What's that behind your back?" asked Hermione, noticing the packaging.
Before Harry could answer, the laughter of the Slytherin Quidditch Team cut across them as they made their way up from the Quidditch pitch.
"Wonder what they're so happy about?" mused Harry aloud.
"Can't be anything good." said Fred, as he and George walked up the shore of the Black Lake to join Harry, Neville and Hermione.
"They don't normally laugh." said George.
"Unless someone is hurting." said Fred frowning.
"They have no idea what hurting is." said Harry darkly. "Not yet, at least."
"Look Marcus, it's the new Gryffindor Seeker." sneered Draco Malfoy, emerging from the middle of the pack.
Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team, sneered in Harry's direction.
"Sneered? Looked more like a bit of trapped gas." mused Harry aloud.
"Malfoy said Seeker, not sneered." said Neville, looking at Harry in confusion.
"Make the team, Malfoy?" asked Harry casually, ignoring Neville's comment.
"Naturally." sneered Malfoy.
"Nice brooms there." said Fred, staring at the brooms the Slytherins were holding.
"Where did ya get them?" asked George.
"A gift." said Flint. "From Draco's father. Donated them to the Slytherin team before the start of term."
"Don't worry, Weasley." sneered Malfoy. "I'm sure that your father would do something nice for your team if he could. Probably have to sell that hollow you live in to afford one of these brooms though."
The Slytherins howled with laughter, attracting the attention of the other students that were out enjoying the day, including Luna, Ginny and several members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
"Those are nice brooms." said Harry, a hint of manic excitement in his voice. "I believe that they're probably as nice as mine."
The laughter stopped immediately as Harry presented his surprise of the day to everyone at large.
"A Nimbus 2001?" said Wood awestruck as he approached the group. "Harry, how did you get one of those? Wait, how did the Slytherins get them? Is someone handing out new brooms?"
"No Wood." said Harry, smirking at all the stunned faces. "Malfoy apparently needed a bribe to get on the Slytherin team. As for my broom… what can I say… sorry I don't have enough to buy the whole team one."
"My father didn't buy my way onto the team, Quinn!" growled Malfoy. "You may have a broom like mine, but you have no experience riding it!"
"Correct, Malfoy." retorted Harry sadistically; his eyes widening. "I only use magical brooms for flying."
Everyone except for the Slytherins roared with laughter at Harry's insinuation. Malfoy's eyes popped with rage at the mockery.
"I'll show you, Quinn!" spat Malfoy.
"PLEASE! DON'T!" shouted Harry, covering his eyes with his forearm.
The twins were laughing so hard that they fell to the ground, holding their sides. Neville was pink with laughter and Hermione had hidden her face beneath her robes. Flint grabbed Malfoy by the shoulder and dragged him away before he could say or do anything else.
"Seriously though," said Wood, wiping his face to regain his composure "those brooms mean that we're going to have to train a lot harder if we want to beat them. But this," Wood took Harry's broom from his hands "will be the great equalizer with Harry aboard, if he plays as well as he did during tryouts."
"Please Oliver," snorted Fred "please don't ask."
"To ride it!" snorted George, as the twins fell back to the ground in laughter as Wood quickly handed the broom back to Harry, laughing as he did.
After everyone regained self control, Harry sat down with Neville, Hermione, Luna and the twins and told them how he came to have the Nimbus 2001. Harry offered Ginny to join them, but she just mumbled something about the lake and walked away. Mr J had taught him how to spot someone with something to hide and she was definitely hiding something… and Harry loved secrets.
"Is Professor McGonagall related to you, Harry?" asked Luna dreamily, playing with blades of grass.
"No way." replied Harry, shuddering at the thought. "When I was younger, I used to have nightmares about people coming and taking me away from my aunt. They would always place me in a school full of nuns that were bent on teaching me how to sing in a choir. I guarantee that somewhere in that dream she was the head nun!"
"Oh Harry." chuckled Hermione.
"Maybe she just enjoys." said Fred.
"Harry's wonderful sense of humor." said George, smirking.
"Don't think she has a sense of humor." sighed Neville.
"Professor McGonagall is strict, but cares for her students." scolded Hermione. "Sounds to me like she's just trying to be nice."
"She wants to win the Quidditch Cup." said the twins in unison, nodding to each other as though making up their minds. "Desperately."
"Whatever it is," growled Harry dramatically "I'm gonna love playing tag with Malfoy."
When they finally headed inside for the day, Harry decided it was time to do some exploring on his own. There was something that he needed to follow up on.
"Who does that Potter think he is!" sneered Draco Malfoy, kicking over a stack of books in the Slytherin Common Room.
"A right scary git." said Blaise Zabini. "And Draco, would you mind not kicking over other people's stuff while you're having a fit?"
"You think he's scary?" asked Draco, raising an eyebrow in Blaise's direction.
"You call him Potter down here." retorted Blaise while picking up his books. "I dare you to call him anything but Quinn to his face."
"When you do, Draco, please let me be there." said a fifth-year girl with long silvery hair and pale blue eyes, as she strolled gracefully into the common room. "I would so want to watch him destroy you – slowly."
"Stop fantasizing, Paige." sneered Draco. "I'm not that easy to get rid of."
"No fantasy, Draco." replied Paige, smiling darkly. "Just sounded like a bit of fun."
"What you on about, Turk?" hissed Pansy, making her way over to them.
"Oh, I was just thinking about how Quinn has made my Gryffindor three." replied Paige Turk casually.
"Gryffindor three?" repeated Blaise.
"Three Gryffindors that I would shag senseless if given the chance." said Paige, smiling devilishly.
"That's disgusting." said Adrian Pucey; a fourth-year with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He pushed himself up from the corner chair and made his way over to join, apparently, the only interesting conversation in the room. "I mean, you're talking about a bunch of Gryffindors as though they're trophies worth having. Besides, this Quinn is what – five?"
"He's twelve, Adrian." replied Paige, sounding bored. "If you exuded half the confidence that Quinn does while he's standing still, I'd shag you right here in front of everyone."
Draco had stomached enough from Paige. While he knew that she was all talk, it revolted him to hear anyone praise or fear the little puke that had insulted him in front of his new team.
"Sorry Paige, but I'm going to wipe Potter from your Gryffindor three." spat Draco. "I'm going to expose Potter for who he really is – a coward."
Without another word, Draco removed himself from the conversation and exited the common room. He needed to get some air. Night had fallen at Hogwarts and now the castle would be nearly deserted; most students in their common room or the library.
"Wait up." said Blaise, climbing the steps behind Draco.
"Heard you coming," said Draco "but I thought you were Crabbe or Goyle."
"Hope I was Pansy?" retorted Blaise, smirking.
"Maybe." admitted Draco to his only real friend. "Not sure though why."
"Not sure?" repeated Blaise. "Listen mate, do I need to explain how things work?"
The two broke down laughing as they reached the top of the stairs, but stopped immediately as an insane laugh echoed from a corridor to the left of the Grand staircase. Instinctively, the two Slytherins withdrew their wands.
"Let's have a look." whispered Blaise.
"After you." whispered Draco.
The two boys edged around the staircase and into the corridor. Aside from the crackling of the torches and the sound of their own footsteps, there was nothing but silence.
"What do you think it was?" whispered Draco.
"Dunno." whispered Blaise. "May have been Peeves."
"Peeves?" repeated Draco. "My father said that he was banished from the castle after last year."
"Dumbledore probably went soft and let him back in." whispered Blaise.
The boys were about to leave the corridor when a classroom door creaked open behind them. Draco spun to face the door, a curse on the tip of his tongue.
"Easy Draco." whispered Blaise. "Let's have a look. Maybe we'll see something worth while."
"Sick, mate." whispered Draco, thinking of what they might find going on in an abandoned classroom.
"I mean for leverage." whispered Blaise. "Catch a couple of students, or better yet a professor, doing something they shouldn't…"
Blaise and Draco slowly crept into the classroom, only to find it completely empty.
"Well that was disappointing." sighed Blaise.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind them; throwing them into total darkness.
"Lumos!" shouted Draco, igniting the tip of his wand like a miniature star.
Draco heard a wand clatter to the ground and turned to see something that made his blood run cold. Blaise was standing rigid; a silvery blade pressed against his throat from behind. As his wand light filled the area, it illuminated the face of the knife wielder. Potter stood there holding Blaise from behind, his face covered with white face paint; his eyes and mouth outlined in black.
"Let him go, Potter!" growled Draco.
Potter let out an insane laugh that pierced Draco's heart.
"I've told you already, Malfoy." growled Potter. "The name is Harry Quinn. Seeing though as you cannot remember it too well, maybe I'll carve it into your arm or his forehead. Now, be a good snake and light those candles, then toss your wand over here."
Draco knew he had no choice. He flicked his wand over candles on the desk, lighting them as his mother had taught him, before tossing his wand onto the floor at Potter's feet.
"You'll be expelled." hissed Draco.
"Only if you tell…" sighed Potter "and we must not speak of this, lest the Jabberwocky comes! Beware the Jabberwocky!"
"What you on about, Po… Quinn?" asked Draco, deciding it best not to press Potter further.
"In the moonlight, it stood fierce. The ground did tremble in its wake." recited Harry. "All the weak were torn asunder. As the monster's wrath did break!"
"We won't." grunted Blaise, looking frantic. "Let me go and we won't tell about your uh… Jabberwocky."
"See Draco," sang Potter "he knows how to play."
"Let Blaise go and we won't tell anyone about this." lied Draco.
"Oh Malfoy, you're a terrible liar." growled Potter. "You see, this is a special knife… probably my favorite. It leaves scars that no magic can heal… or so I'm told. I'm dying to find out!"
"What do you want from us?" demanded Draco.
"Now we've reached the moment of truth!" shouted Potter. "I want nothing. Nothing from you or your friend here. You see… I'm going to cause chaos… more chaos than anyone has ever witnessed before. You two are just in the wrong place at the wrong time. There is no place that you can run or turn to that can shield you from what is to come."
Potter placed a foot on top of Draco and Blaise's wands before lowering his knife, then shoved Blaise across the room. Potter then reached down and scooped up their wands; the knife suddenly disappearing from view.
"Why is your face painted?" asked a wide-eyed Blaise, massaging his throat.
"You can see it too?" retorted Potter, touching his face with his free hand and looking shocked. "Only those doomed to the Jabberwocky's wrath can see the face paint!"
"Give us our wands and we'll leave you to whatever it is you were doing in here." said Draco, trying not to sound scared.
"You want your sticks?" taunted Potter, his head lowered; a leering smile stretched across his face all the while his eyes still fixed on Draco. "Fine."
Potter tossed the wands at their feet. Draco and Blaise immediately dove for their wands, but instead found themselves slammed backwards into the floor; looking up into the manic face of Potter as his wand tip hovered inches from Draco's nose. A pain in Draco's chest told him that somehow Potter had managed to physically hit him in the chest as he dove for his wand. That kind of agility and speed was unnerving, to say the least.
"Still want those sticks, woodpeckers?" taunted Potter smiling even broader. "They pose no threat to me or the Jabberwocky. This asylum has a new keeper… and his name is Harry Quinn. Now, Hermione was showing me a severing spell earlier so that I could understand more how the magical world performed common tasks. It looked dead useful for things like carving or circumcision… but I haven't had the opportunity to test it out…"
"I'm begging you, Quinn," said Blaise, his hands raised in surrender "please let us go. We'll leave our wands here and collect them in the morning if you'll just let us go."
Draco would have loved to have slapped Blaise, but under the circumstances he thought better of it.
"Now, we have a deal." growled Potter.
Draco watched as Potter collected their wands and backed away. He and Blaise slowly got back to their feet, all the while keeping a close eye on their painted adversary. Without another word, Blaise walked slowly towards the door; hands still raised in surrender. Draco followed, but refused to raise his hands.
"Bye boys." sang Potter. "Your sticks will be here in the morning. Oh whatever will you do without them tonight!"
When Draco and Blaise were safely in the corridor and jogging back to their common room, Draco slugged Blaise in the arm.
"Bloody hell, Draco." growled Blaise, rubbing his shoulder. "You should be thanking me, not hitting me!"
"You surrendered to a Gryffindor and you relented your wand." hissed Draco, completely frustrated at his friend.
"Slytherins live to fight another day," retorted Blaise "and I'll be damned if Quinn is a Gryffindor!"
"Some people would think that I gained nothing more than a bit 'o sport from tonight." said Harry, staring at himself in a small mirror that hung on the classroom wall. "Truth is, now I own Malfoy and I will use him to bring the entire House of Slytherin under my control. Don't believe me? Just watch and see."
A door at the far end of the classroom creaked open.
"So sorry gentlemen." said Harry, spinning around. "I was having so much fun that I temporarily forgot that you were still here."
Two large figures walked through the shadows, making their way towards Harry.
"That was amazing." said Gregory Goyle in a thick tone.
"Yeah, we've never seen Draco that scared before." said Vincent Crabbe.
"You gentlemen wanted a demonstration as to what I was talking about." said Harry. "Well, there you have it. The weak will run and the 'normal people' will hide in the shadows."
"Why are you wearing paint on your face?" asked Vincent.
"People have forty-two emotions, Vincent." replied Harry. "My mentor, Mr J, calls this 'war paint'. When worn by the right people, it can channel all your emotions. The secret is, you have to earn the right to wear this paint. My mask is the face I wear each day to class. This is who I truly am."
"I'm tired of Draco treating us like we're stupid." spat Vincent. "All last year he acted as though we were his house-elves."
"Is that why you sought me out, Vincent?" asked Harry.
"What you did on the train and by the trophy room." said Gregory. "You bested Draco both times. No one has ever done that before."
Harry truly doubted that statement, but thought it best not to argue.
"Everyone is talking about you, Quinn." said Vincent. "You're not the Boy-Who-Lived that anyone expected. You make people nervous."
"What do you want from me, Vincent?" asked Harry, smirking.
"Teach me to wear the 'war paint'." breathed Vincent greedily. "Teach me to show the 'normal people' that they answer to the 'freaks'!"
Harry grinned darkly at Vincent and Gregory; his eyes dancing with mischief.
"Is that what you want as well, Gregory?" asked Harry.
"I want to follow someone strong and able to do what he says." replied Gregory. "I want power."
"Are you willing to stand along side the freaks of all houses?" asked Harry.
Both boys nodded.
"Very good." growled Harry. "I will teach you and lead you. You will act 'normal' during the week and we will meet here on weekends."
"You mean we have to listen to Draco?" asked Gregory, frowning hard.
"For now." replied Harry. "Think of it as 'two-face training'. I promise that you'll be the ones laughing in the end as their perfect little world burns. We all will."
Both boys nodded again, smiling darkly as they did.
"Alright, off to your 'normal' lives." said Harry. "I have some other things to attend to... and remember, while listening to Malfoy just sing to yourself, 'there are no strings on me, there are no strings on me, there may be strings on some of you fools, but there ain't no strings on me!'"
Harry could hear the two large boys singing softly to themselves as they left the room. They definitely weren't the sharpest knives he had ever owned, but he had learned long ago that muscle didn't require more than one brain. Besides, what they lacked in intellect, they made up for in a desire for power.
Harry had come to realize that there was just too much at Hogwarts to ever let go of. The entire castle itself and everyone in it was a treasure. One that he would deliver to Mr J with a bright green bow. If Mr J didn't want it, then he'd keep it for himself.
SMASH!
The Joker looked up from his 'musings' at the large desk in the study to see Harley swing her bat back onto her shoulder after obliterating yet another wooden table. It was the third she had destroyed that evening.
"Something troubling you, Harley dear?" asked the Joker, propping his head up on his hands.
"When we gonna go get Harry?" asked Harley, frowning and pouting as she turned to look at him. "I'm gettin' tired of waiting, Mistah J. I want my Harry back."
"Patience, Harley dear." cooed the Joker. "It was clear by Harry's letter that he wanted more time to case thisHogwarts. I'm sure if things get out of control, he'll let us know. When the time is right, we'll go get our Harry back."
"What's you workin' on?" asked Harley, biting her lower lip and not acknowledging what he had said.
"Oh, just looking over a few things." replied the Joker. "Idle hands and all… might as well do something and this – Diagon Alley – looks mighty interesting."
"Thought you said we couldn't enter it without gettin' caught?" asked Harley, her interest peeked.
"That was my first assumption, but the books in this 'safe house' seem to contradict that." chuckled the Joker darkly. "It seems that this Black family is even darker than the Malfoys."
"Do you trust this Narcissa, puddin'?" asked Harley, taking a seat on the edge of the desk.
"My dear Harley, why would I do that?" retorted the Joker, noting the playful tone in the way she called him puddin'.
"I don't know." replied Harley, rolling her bat on her shoulder. "Thought maybe you were starting to fancy her or somethin'."
"Her?" repeated the Joker dramatically. "How could I possibly fancy her with you around? Besides, she's Ivy's play toy… and we know how well Ivy likes to share."
"Then why you so interested in her family?" asked Harley, poking at the books in front of her.
"Because they were dark." growled the Joker wickedly. "You see, Narcissa's sister is all locked up for doing some very naughty things. But it's her cousin that really has my attention."
"What did her cousin do?" asked Harley.
"According to Narcissa, he did nothing." replied the Joker. "He was setup – framed by some runt and sent to prison without even a trial. That kinda anger can be dead useful."
"Even if ya find a way to break him out. What makes you think that he'd come work for you?" asked Harley, swirling the tip of her bat against the floor. "I mean, if he was setup and all."
"Oh, that's the best part!" chuckled the Joker darkly. "Turns out that your half sister and brother-in-law named him as Harry's godfather before they died. For that, I believe he'll help us out."
"Sirius Black." said Harley, nearly dropping her bat. "I remember Lily telling me about him." Harley stood up then smashed a nearby arm chair into kindling. "We gotta get him out, Mistah J. He's practically family!"
The week rolled by with little excitement to speak of. Before anyone knew it, another weekend was upon them. Now it was Friday evening and darkness had fallen in earnest now in northern Scotland; the moon hidden from view by a sea of dark clouds. The hundreds of candles that lit the castle glowed through the windows, almost eerily; reflecting on the murky waters of the Black Lake. If one simply looked at the water, one would believe that the castle was burning.
"Will you be much longer, Joseph?" asked a tall blond witch as she pushed a strand of hair back behind her left ear.
"Not much longer, Alice." replied Joseph Wilson, placing another book back onto the shelf in the Restricted Section.
"Okay." said Alice, pouting slightly. "I'll be waiting for you in our usual place."
Alice grinned devilishly as she slipped away.
"You can come out of the shadows." said Joseph, sounding almost bored. "I know you're there."
"Wouldn't keep that one waiting too long." said Harry, stepping out from behind a bookshelf. "I know a guy with a hat fetish that would love to have her."
"Is my love life why you are sneaking into the Restricted Section?" retorted Joseph.
"Not surprised to see me." said Harry. "That tells me I'm right about you."
"Listen kid," said Joseph condescendingly "I know where you come from and who your Mr J is. I know everything that goes on at this school and abroad. I make it my business to not turn a blind eye."
"Keeping up with the times or watching your back?" retorted Harry, refusing to make eye contact with Joseph.
"Both." rebuffed Joseph with a smirky glare. "Tell me kid, what do you think you know about me?"
"Only that your dear old dad has some real anger management issues and a fondness for katanas." replied Harry, a cold smile curving his face. "Am I right?"
"What do you want?" asked Joseph. "Don't think that you can blackmail me or anything. That wouldn't end well."
"Furthest thing from my mind." said Harry, placing a hand over his heart. "See, I've been keeping an eye on you and I can tell that you're on a mission. Well... so am I."
"How have you..." began Joseph "oh... I see. Your band of misfits have been helping you keep tabs on me. Clever."
"Trust, or the illusion there of, is a dead useful tool." said Harry. "You should look into it some time."
"Come here to give me advice?" retorted Joseph.
"Came looking for some." said Harry. "See, you've been here for six long years and by now you've most certainly uncovered most of this school's hidden gems. Me... I only plan for six months at a time so, I thought you might be able to give me some tips."
"All you've come here for is advice?" asked Joseph incredulously. "You're not interested in us teaming up or something?"
"I have to admit that the thought crossed my mind, but... I don't play well with others." replied Harry, leaning on a nearby table. "Aunt Harley said I never wanted to share my toys when I was little, and I guess some things never change."
"What's in it for me?" asked Joseph.
"Oh you try to keep up with everything, but there's one person that keeps avoiding your gaze." said Harry, stressing the last word. "Help me and I can help you find your father."
"What makes you think that I'm looking for my father?" retorted Joseph.
"My misfits, remember?" retorted Harry. "Let's not play cat and mouse. We have a deal? You help me with my studies and I help you – have the father-son reunion that you've been dreaming of!"
"Kid, you've got this whole school on edge and you haven't even done one thing yet to justify their fears." said Joseph, leaning against a bookshelf. "Trouble is, they're right to fear you. You're bloody dangerous. I can see it in your eyes."
"I'm ambitious." said Harry, smirking; his eyes dancing with mischief. "Now, do we have a deal?"
"Sure kid." said Joseph. "I'll show you some of the useful things I've learned and you will help me finish my mission. I only have one more question. When did you last see my father?"
"Oh, I've never met your father personally." said Harry dramatically. "No, my Aunt Harley and Aunt Ivy love to tell tales about some of their favorite adventures. My Aunt Harley loves to take pictures for her memory album too. You look just like one of the very unhappy additions – minus the eye patch and the murderous expression. Took me a week to remember where I've seen someone who looked like you before."
Joseph threw back his head and laughed. "You're alright, kid. But seriously," his face becoming even and serious once more "while you're here I might as well show you a few things that will help you ease about the castle. This Restricted Section is a wealth of knowledge and I doubt that you will earn the trust of Professor McGonagall any time soon."
"You'd be surprised." said Harry smirking. "What about Alice? Isn't she waiting for you?"
"She always starts without me." said Joseph, smirking at Harry's reaction.
~Ace~
Harry eased into the Dungeon classroom about 8 o'clock to find an irritated looking Professor Snape waiting for him. The room was darker than usual, with the distinct smell of ponding water.
"Have a seat, Mr Potter." said Professor Snape, sitting at a large desk while reading over essays; barely bothering to look up.
Harry made as much noise as possible while sliding his chair across the floor before looking up at Professor Snape innocently. Professor Snape was staring at him, a noticeable twitch in his left eye.
"Do you know why I volunteered to sit your detention, Mr Potter?" asked Professor Snape, putting his quill down on the desk.
"No, Professor." replied Harry truthfully.
Harry could not think of any reason why anyone would volunteer to spend three whole hours with him – alone at that.
"I wanted the opportunity to speak with you outside of class." said Professor Snape, standing up. "This way, we can drop any illusions."
"Illusions?" repeated Harry innocently.
"See, you're not what the rest of our world was expecting, but you are exactly what I was expecting." continued Professor Snape, ignoring Harry's remark while walking around the desk to face him. "You're dark, Harry Potter. I can see it."
"That's just my hair." said Harry in a mildly sarcastic tone. "It gives me that mysterious look."
"Behind those green eyes lies the soul of one that has done things no Gryffindor should ever even be accused of." continued on Professor Snape. "So the question is, why did the Sorting Hat place you in Gryffindor."
"Does this mean... that you wanted me in Slytherin?" asked Harry in an excited tone while clutching his chest. "Professor... I don't know what to say!"
Professor Snape's eyelids where so close together now that his pupils were nothing but slits. His mouth was contorted so badly that it looked as though he was eating his own face from the inside out.
"Okay, Mr Potter." growled Professor Snape. "I offered you an opportunity to come clean with me, but you would rather make jokes."
"I don't make jokes, Professor." said Harry, his demeanor shifting dramatically. "The world makes jokes. Some people tell them... some people live them. Others... simply laugh."
"You like to laugh, Mr Potter?" asked Professor Snape.
"It's fuel for the soul, Professor." replied Harry. "Don't take things too seriously. If you hold the laughter in too long, when it comes out it could kill you."
"Is that advice, Mr Potter, or a threat?" retorted Professor Snape angrily. "Mr Malfoy has told me about the train and near the trophy room."
"I've never threatened anyone, Professor." said Harry, dismissively.
"Are you saying that Mr Malfoy lied to me?" questioned Professor Snape in a threatening tone.
"Professor, I have no idea as to what Malfoy told you." replied Harry calmly. "The only thing that I can tell you is that Harry Quinn never makes threats." Harry made eye contact with the Potions Master. "He only makes promises."
"Mr Potter, you and your alter ego, Harry Quinn, had better listen to me." growled Professor Snape. "Any unprovoked actions against a fellow student is automatic grounds for expulsion."
"Does that apply to the 'normal people' as well?" asked Harry, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Or just the freaks that must be controlled?"
Professor Snape took a few steps back and leaned against his desk, as to get a better look at the young man sitting before him.
"Why do you believe that you are a freak, Mr Potter?" retorted Professor Snape in a measured tone.
"I've been a freak since the moment I was born." said Harry, laughing sadistically. "My parents were killed by a maniac purist, hell bent on purging the world. Then I went to live with my Aunt Harley and Mr J. They showed me what the 'normal people' thought of people like us. They called us freaks and tried to lock us away, but I would not have anything of it. I used my powers to keep us out of the boxes they wanted to put us in. We didn't fit in their world of rules and rulers so, we created our own world. The 'normal people' labeled us as criminals because we refused to live by their rules. I call myself a freak, Professor, because I recognize what I am. I'm not ashamed or angry. I'm just happy being me, and one day we freaks will change the world."
"Will that change be by force, Mr Potter?" asked Professor Snape.
"Force is always necessary, Professor," replied Harry "when dealing with the 'normal people'."
"What if I told you that you sound just like the man you call a maniac?" retorted Professor Snape. "What if I told you that your answer was his justification for all the things that he did?"
"There's two sides to every coin, Professor." said Harry, trying to keep his emotions in check. "However, I find myself on the edge. There are 'normal people' in both the Muggle and the Wizarding world. Because of this, there are freaks in both worlds as well."
"So in your world, there are only 'normal people' and 'freaks'." summarized Professor Snape. "Whom defines who the 'freaks' and the 'normal people' are? You?"
"The 'normal people' define the rules, Professor." retorted Harry, trying to stay calm. "We have just learned to identify those that are one of us."
"And where do you think I fall into your views of the world?" asked Professor Snape.
"You Professor... and I mean this in the most respectful way – are not 'normal'." said Harry, keeping eye contact with Professor Snape.
"Is that your way of saying that I'm a freak like you?" asked Professor Snape silkily.
"Nope." replied Harry, popping the 'P'. "You seem to me as though you're trying really hard to follow the rules, and yet you despise being told what to do. You're the perfect candidate to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Instead, you teach Potions while the con artist teaches the other."
"Are you insinuating, Mr Potter, that Professor Lockhart is incompetent and that I am a dark wizard?" retorted Professor Snape, an edge to his voice.
"Professor Lockhart is a fraud." said Harry calmly. "I don't believe that he has done any of the things that his books go on about. As for you, Professor, you're not dark. You've seen dark things though... I can see it in your eyes."
"Oh?" quipped Professor Snape dangerously. "Tell me, what do you see in my eyes, Mr Potter."
"Every time you look at me I see a cold regret." replied Harry. "My Aunt Harley has the same look in her eyes after she's had to do something – extreme. You're a wizard, so I assume it has something to do with dark magic."
"Detention is over, Mr Potter." snapped Professor Snape. "Return to Gryffindor common room at once!"
Harry showed no emotion as he nodded and stood to leave, hoisting his backpack onto his shoulder. He knew that he had struck a nerve with the Potions Master and it was best not to press any further.
"Come... let me rip... let me tear you... let me taste you." echoed a voice from above Harry's head. He stopped shy of the door and looked up.
"Unable to open the door, Mr Potter?" quipped Professor Snape, his voice sounding a bit hollow.
"Did you just hear a voice, Professor?" asked Harry, turning back to face the room.
"Besides your voice, Mr Potter – no." replied Professor Snape coldly. "Hearing voices now?"
"Maybe." replied Harry, shrugging and turning back towards the door. "Oh well, wouldn't be the first time."
"What did the voice sound like?" asked Professor Snape, curiosity getting the best of him.
"Hungry." replied Harry as he exited the classroom; not turning back to see the confused look on Professor Snape's face.
~Ace~
Harry reached the Gryffindor common room without seeing hardly a soul in the corridors. Upon entering, he found a shocked Neville and Hermione waiting for him.
"Harry? What you doing here?" asked Neville in a worried tone. "You're supposed to be in detention."
"Harry, please don't tell us you skipped out on your detention!" said Hermione, her facial expressions somewhere between frustration and fear.
"Calm down, you two." said Harry, chucking his backpack down by one of the cushioned arm chairs. "Professor Snape let me go early."
"What did you do to him?" asked Neville, unable to hide his excitement.
"Nothing." said Harry dismissively, flopping down on the couch beside Hermione and Neville. "We just talked a little bit, then he told me I was dismissed. What are you two up to?"
"We were going to sit up and wait for you." said Hermione, relaxing slightly. "We had just started working on our Charms paper when you came in. What did you and Professor Snape talk about?"
"Oh, mainly just my view of the world." replied Harry casually.
"No wonder he let you go early." mused Neville aloud.
The three of them broke down laughing at Neville's slip. Harry knew it was good that they were so quickly accepting 'his ways'. This meant that they were just about ready for phase two. Hermione pushed a lock of her bushy hair back behind her ear and he wiggled his eyebrows at her. She immediately blushed and smiled, but did not look away. These were good signs, indeed.
A/N: New laptop? Check. Rewrite chapters that were lost on stolen laptop? Work In Progress. Hey, looky there, I'm back! Sorry for the long delay. Hope you enjoyed the latest update to my story. Please Review and let me know what you think. Has not been beta'd yet, so any grammar or plot mistakes are on me! Thanks for all the great reviews so far!
