Harry Potter and associated names, places, situations, and events belong to J.K. Rowling.
No infringement thereof is intended nor implied.
Chapter 9
"…make your own kind of music, sing your own special song," sang Harry to himself as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. "Make your own kind of music, even if nobody else sings along."
He then heard a knocking, interrupting his singing.
"I knew I shouldn't have gone for the Lost reference," said Harry to himself as he walked out of his bedroom, grabbing his robe and haversack along the way.
The knocking continued.
"I'm coming!" he shouted as he pulled on the robe. He paused, one arm in the robe, haversack over the other shoulder, as he passed the TARDIS' kitchen, remembering he'd made coffee before taking his shower. He was just about to pop in to make his cup with, once again, someone was knocking on the door to his apartment.
"As I lie there there, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door," mis-quoted Harry as he tore himself away from the promise of coffee and went to the door to the stairs to the TARDIS.
He opened it, and upon seeing the greasy haired potions professor, and Head of Slytherin, he concluded, " 'Tis just Professor Snape, and nothing more."
"Potter?" asked Professor Snape, his tone a combination of confusion and aggravation.
"Sorry, was having a Poe moment for a while there. What can I help you with this morning, Professor? The Prefect, Mervyn was it, said that you'd get around to talking to me sometime during the week. Didn't think you'd come down and see me so soon," said Harry.
Snape shook his head as if to clear it, "No, Potter, that is not why I came. I was wondering why you felt you needed to stay in this trunk of yours, rather than in your bed like everyone else? Are you such a pampered prince that you think you're too good for the rest of your fellow Slytherins?"
Harry looked shocked for a moment, "Oh, no, not that Professor. It's just, well, I've already gotten used to the bed in here, and since I didn't want to take another week to get used to the bed out there, I thought…" Harry stopped as he realized that Professor Snape was confused. "Is there a problem Professor?"
"You sound like an American," stated Snape.
"Well yes, I was raised there," said Harry. "I've only been in the country since my birthday. Stayed at the Leaky Cauldron until my trunk was finished, and then I've been living in here since. Only a couple weeks, but it's been nice to have a place to call my own, since I can't return to America anytime soon."
"What are you talking about Potter?" asked the Professor.
Harry bit his lip, "Why don't you step into my parlor?" He stepped back, pulling the door all the way open and gesturing down the entrance hall to the living room.
"As arrogant as your father," mumbled Professor Snape as he walked past Harry and into the TARDIS proper.
"I wouldn't say that, Professor Snape," said Harry, closing the door and following the dour man. He thought of how the movies had shaped his perception of the professor, of how, even after seeing the professor during the feast, he still hadn't connected in his mind that Snape wasn't that much older than he used to be.
"And why is that, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape.
"Well, for one thing, I know very little of James Potter, only what I've read in books. Even less, really, of Lily Evans," said Harry, making a calculated point to refer to his new parents by their names, and especially Lily by her maiden name. "I know, though, that you were tormented by James during your time in school. You were in the same year if I remember correctly. I also know that you knew Lily from before you both attended Hogwarts, and that the two of you were friends until an incident late in your schooling forced you apart."
Harry had watched the hint of emotions play at the edges of his Head of House's face, the frankness he was using cutting through the older man's facade.
"I am not the second coming of James Potter, whatever you may think. I am not a spoiled pureblood, or even halfblood, prince. No, I was raised muggle, and didn't know I was Harry Potter until just over a month ago," continued Harry. "So please, don't assume that I am the same man who terrorized you through school. Don't assume that I have anything in common with James except our names and the disposition of our hair. I could care less about pranks and, marauding," he said, putting emphasis on the last word. "I have come to Hogwarts with one goal, and one goal only. The survival and eventual defeat of the second coming of the half-blood sociopath, Tom Marvolo Riddle."
"Who?" asked Snape.
"The Dark Lord, He-Who's-Name-Must-Be-Hyphenated, the man who terrorized this nation so badly that even a decade after his so-called defeat his name still inspires fear in the general populace," explained Harry.
"A half-blood?" asked Snape, surprised at the news.
"Much like you and I, Professor," said Harry, "Though, even that is stretching the truth a bit, since while his father was non-magical, his mother was practically as well."
"And how, pray tell, does a, boy, that didn't know he was Harry Potter until a month ago, know so much about the Dark Lord?" asked Snape.
Harry smirked, "I read it in a book."
Snape was flabbergasted when he realized that Harry wasn't lying, "And what book, pray tell, would reveal such, inflammatory, information about the Dark Lord?"
"You wouldn't believe me," said Harry, leaning against the wall of the hallway that they were still standing in.
"Try me," demanded Snape.
"I'm not sure exactly which one it was in, but I believe it was, 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince'," admitted Harry.
"What?" asked Snape, surprised as both the name and the use of his childhood name for himself.
"If I'm to tell you more, Professor, I'm going to need your assurances that you'll tell nobody, well, you can tell the Headmaster, since he knows, and Ron Weasley and Susan Bones know as well, as does Madam Bones and most of the Weasley family. Oh, and my godfather, Sirius Black," explained Harry.
"Black knows?" snarled Snape.
"I needed an ally, Professor Snape, and as juvenile as he is, he's ready made to be one," admitted Harry. "I know what he did to you, and what he got away with. If I had my way, he'd have been punished for it, but don't you think that a decade in Azkaban is enough?"
"Only if he was sorry," snarled Snape.
"I'll work on that," offered Harry. "So, do you want to know how I know about Tom?"
"Yes," admitted Snape.
"Professor, I need allies. I have Madame Bones and Sirius Black, as well as the Weasleys. I have Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, and Ronald Weasley here at Hogwarts. Since he apparently didn't heed my warning, I'm not exactly sure I have an ally in the Headmaster," admitted Harry. "I would like to have an ally in you, Professor Snape, but to do that, I need to trust you."
"What do you need?" asked Snape.
"A Wizard's Oath, that you'll not reveal it unless its to someone who I've already told you knows. Which would be everyone I mentioned, well, not Neville yet, but everyone else," said Harry.
A minute later and the oath was done.
"I'm from an alternate future, one in which Hogwarts, Tom Riddle, and the entire wizarding world is fictional," said Harry. "Somehow, on my twenty-eighth birthday my mind was transferred from my previous body to that of one Harry James Potter. We think it has something to do with my wand, but aside from that, we're not exactly sure how it happened, only that it did. The story of Harry Potter's time at Hogwarts, and the war that was waged during it, was made into seven books, and eight movies. The sixth book was, as I said, 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince', which would, of course, be referring to you."
"That is quite the story, Mr. Potter," said Snape.
"Try it from my side, Professor. I nearly went crazy the first week, but once I found allies, and that I wasn't alone, it became bearable."
"You're not alone?" asked Snape. "Mr. Weasley?"
"He used to be a teacher, in the world we came from. His sister, Ginny, as well, though I never really got what she used to do out of her, only that she has plans herself," said Harry. "We are connected by our birthdays, so I assume that was part of a magic that brought us here."
"I would be interested in investigating that, Mr. Potter," said Professor Snape.
"As would I, since it would help once I get enough magic under my belt, to go back to my birthday and do things differently," admitted Harry.
"I suspect that, since we aren't inundated with time travelers, that the method is either extremely difficult, extremely hazardous, or not repeatable," said Snape.
Harry shugged, "It's a hope, not a plan. I only plan to use what I know I can work with, rather than relying on what-ifs and possibilities."
"How very, Slytherin of you," admitted Snape.
"There's a reason I'm here, Professor. There's a reason I'm wearing the green and silver and not the gold and red," said Harry. "Now, if we're done, I'd like to have some breakfast, see how what the elves can cook is better than Tom at the Leaky Couldron. Plus, I need to get some coffee in me before I confront Quirrel."
"That's Professor Quirrel, Mr. Potter," corrected Snape.
"Actually, it's Tom Riddle riding the back of Professor Quirrel's head," further corrected Harry, "But that's a story for another day."
After another half hour of discussions Professor Snape and Harry finally left the TARDIS. Unfortunately, that left only ten minutes for Harry to get to the Great Hall, have breakfast, and then get ready for his first class of the day, Defense with the aforementioned Professor Quirrel (with Tom Riddle riding the back of his head).
"Where have you been?" asked Daphne once Harry finally arrived.
"Professor Snape had a problem with my sleeping arrangements, but we worked it out," said Harry, quickly grabbing some eggs, hash browns, bacon and toast, and making them into a breakfast sandwich while also having some tea (since he'd shared his coffee with his Head of House earlier).
"Weren't you saying something last night about fried foods?" asked Blaise?
"Again, I'm looking for more variety, also, don't have time," said Harry after swallowing a bite. He followed his declaration with a sip of slightly too hot, and not nearly sweet enough, tea, before taking another bite.
"So, what were these sleeping arrangements that Professor Snape had a problem with?" asked Daphne.
"Oh, Harry has a magical trunk that he sleeps in. Says its as big as an apartment," explained Theo.
"Wait, you can do that?" asked Daphne.
"Well, I'm not supposed to, and Professor Snape wasn't happy about it, but once I explained why, he was a bit more receptive," said Harry between bites.
"And that took half an hour?" asked Blaise.
"More or less, though we also go to talking about what happened to me in the last decade, about how he knew my parents, my birth parents that is, and about how I should go about trying to fit in a bit more, though I put the line at trying to affect an accent," said Harry, leaving out some of the conversation with Professor Snape, since he wasn't quite ready, and wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready, to tell his friends about who he really was.
"Affect?" asked Daphne, unfamiliar with the word.
"To fake an accent, basically," explained Harry.
"Then why didn't you just say so?" asked Theo.
"Why be accurate and imprecise, when you can be both?" asked Harry.
"So that people can understand you?" countered Daphne.
Harry thought for a moment, mouth half-full of bacon-egg-and-hash sandwich. He then swallowed, "I guess you're right. Thank you Daphne. I'll try to be clear, even if I can't be as precise as I want to be."
Just right then a girl with short blond hair held back by a silver headband ran up to the table and sat down in the empty seat next to Daphne. Harry realized that it was Tracey Davis.
"Nice of you to finally join us Trace," said Daphne, scooting over a bit to give the other girl room.
"Sorry I'm late, Gemma wanted to have a talk with me," said Tracey.
"Tracey was it?" asked Harry.
"Oh, yeah, I'm Tracey Davis," said the blond, she then blushed when she realized who she was talking to. "You're Harry Potter!" she squealed.
"Yes, Trace, we know," said Daphne, who had gotten the brunt of the squeal in her ear.
"So, Daph, why didn't you sit with me after you got sorted?" asked Tracey with a bit of a pout.
"Malfoy," said Daphne flatly.
"That's why I sat down here. I know my dad was friends with his during the war, but it's not like we're in the same circles," admitted Theo.
"I just want to sit with Harry, hear his story on how he got into Slytherin," said Blaise.
"Which reminds me," said Harry, turning to Theo, "The galleons?"
Theo gulped, but was saved by the ringing of the bell and the rapid evacuation of the table, Harry leaving with half of his sandwich still in hand, and Tracey snagging a muffin from the table before being pulled away by Daphne.
As Harry had expected, the Defense Professor had successfully affected a stutter, and had made it very difficult to learn anything about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry had hoped that Headmaster Dumbledore would have taken care of the Two-Faced Professor, but perhaps that was too much to ask of the Defeater of Grindlewald.
"Well, that was useless," declared Harry, as he slipped his textbook and notebook into his haversack. He'd sat with his housemates, though he'd said hello to Susan before class had begun, and she'd reminded him, again, to write a letter to her Aunt Amelia. He'd taken the admonishment in stride, and then promptly forgot, trying not to look Tom Riddle's possessee in the eye during the lecture.
"I wouldn't call it useless," offered Daphne.
"Well, what would you call it?"
"A waste of time?" offered Theo.
"A waste of both time and money," offered Blaise.
"Well, if History of Magic is as bad as I've heard, it might be just as bad as Binns," offered Tracey.
"Well, I guess I'll have to move up my timeline," declared Harry.
"Timeline?"
"We are Slytherins Tracey, House of the Cunning and Ambitious, of course I have a plan. I've had it since I met our Defense Professor at the Leaky Cauldron on my birthday," explained Harry. "Apparently the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professorship is cursed. For the last few decades, perhaps since our parents attended, if not earlier, not a single Defense Professor has lasted more than a year, some haven't even lasted that long. Professor Quirrel was the Muggle Studies Professor until he took a year off to prepare for the Defense Professorship, so it's not like the Headmaster was able to secure the most prodigious scholar for our education," explained Harry.
"Harry, perhaps smaller words," offered Daphne.
"Sorry Daph, too much encyclopedias when I was younger," explained Harry, "But I'll keep trying for accurate and clear."
"That's all I ask."
"Well, we've got an hour before our next class," declared Harry, already the leader of his segment of the Slytherin First Years, "How about we stop by the Common Room, switch out our books for Charms and then check with a Prefect to see if we can get some supplemental Defense education."
"Supplemental?" asked Blaise.
"In addition to what we're receiving already, as poor as it is," explained Theo.
"Luckily we don't have both Defense and History of Magic is the same day, like the Lions, else I'd have to carry a pillow with me all the time."
"Pillow?" asked Tracey.
"For those that would prefer to sleep through Binn's sopo… sleep inducing lectures," explained Harry. He then glanced to Daphne, who smiled. He caught something out of the corner of his eye, and turned, catching Pansy Parkinson following the group. "Pansy, come, join us."
"Perhaps later Potter," offered Pansy. She then hustled past the group of fast friends, "Oh, and Potter, we need to talk, later." She then jogged away, leaving the five Slytherins slightly confused.
"So, first crush or something more sinister?" asked Harry.
"Seeing as she declared last night, quite loudly, or to use a five galleon word, vociferously," Daphne said, a smirk on her face, "that Draco was her's, I doubt it's a crush."
"Ah, so it's the latter. Well, then I guess I have my answer, or at least, a possible answer," said Harry.
"What's the question?" asked Theo.
"Theo, I'd love to tell you, but until I know the answer, I can't tell you the question," replied Harry. "It's not that I don't trust you, but having the question publicly known will make getting the answer much more difficult."
"Ah, I see," replied Theo. A few seconds later he added, "Well, not exactly."
Author's Note:So, nearly a year since the late update. Sorry about that, I lost track of my muse, but now she's back, and she's actually speaking to me again, especially now that I've acknowledged that I don't need her for long chapters, but just a few scenes at a time. This will likely be the longest chapter of Fictional Universe for a while, as I'll be using the two scene chapter format I started A Potted Black Rose with, since it worked better with my muse's attention deficit … hey look a pony. The lyrics to "Make Your Own Kind of Music" belong to Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil, while their placement in this chapter is inspired by Man of Science, Man of Faith, the second season premiere of LOST, written by Damon Lindelof. "The Raven" is by Edgar Allen Poe, though its text is in the public domain.
Recommendation: So, this chapter's recommendation is Amber and Emerald (ID# 8423230), a challenge!fic from Contramancer. Like the length of this chapter, this is likely to be my last regular recommendation for this story, though I'll likely recommend various stories semi-regularly (even few chapters), though no promises. I just hope I can write regularly.
Published January 4, 2013