"I'm Going To Make You An Offer You Can't Refuse"
January 6th, 1995
The Potter Group offices, London
Harry entered his executive office, followed by Blaise, who was wearing a dark, casual suit; Tracey, who wore a black, semi–formal dress; and Daphne, who was wearing a midnight–blue skirt suit with a white blouse. Harry himself was wearing his signature black three–piece, and he stopped when he saw Jaquelin sitting behind his desk, busily pouring over a heap of papers. He eyes were flittering from one piece of paper to the other, her lips mouthing the words listed on there as she read them to herself.
"Hm hmm," Harry cleared his throat, making Jaquelin jump and look up. "Everything going smoothly?"
"Yes, sir!" she said quickly and stood up with a piece of paper in her hand, showing it to him. "I'm going over the terms of a contract with Mr Yakamura. He was a little upset that you weren't there to meet him in person, but I made sure to inform him that you had appointed me to replace you yourself, and that he was in utmost capable hands. I showed him the premises he was looking into purchasing, and went over the details with him. We're finalising the transaction next week."
Harry nodded quietly.
"Jaquelin, come back in… fifteen minutes. I have a few forms for you to sign. Oh, and please bring in three chairs."
The look of despair in Jaquelin's eyes was noticeable. Everyone in the offices knew he only used that line when he was displeased. Jaquelin sombrely gathered the papers and quietly slunk out of the office, leaving the four teenagers alone in there. The three others looked at him a little differently than they had before: After all, they had never seen anything he was involved in, only heard snippets here and there. To actually walk into the offices of The Potter Group was another thing entirely.
"This place is wicked," Blaise muttered.
"Thanks," Harry said and walked over to his chair behind his desk and sat down. Only a minute later did the French–Englishwoman return with three chairs in tow, and then mutedly left the office once again. "Please, sit. We have a few of things to go over."
The trio of future employees of The Potter Group sat down in the recently–procured chairs and were attentive immediately.
"Blaise, how are things on your end?" Harry asked.
"I've found a lawyer who will let me intern over the summer, a solicitor," he said dutifully. "It's unpaid, but he assures me he will teach me what he can."
"Good," Harry nodded, and looked at the blonde. "Tracey?"
"I've been in contact with some enchanters in France," Tracey said. "If I can manage to come to France for extended periods of time, they're willing to apprentice me in the holidays. As soon as I dropped your name, they seemed really talkative," she added with a sly smile.
"Hmm," Harry snorted with a grin. "Daphne?"
"My father's arranged for a private advanced Potions tutor in the holidays," Daphne replied. "He's also been looking into the Apothecary and Slug & Jiggers. Interestingly, the Apothecary is falling a little on tough times in the past twenty years or so. Everyone goes to Slug & Jiggers these days."
"Hmm," Harry hummed, interested. "That is interesting. And good with the tutor, too."
Harry leant back and studied the three teenagers sitting in front of him, his mind racing with possibilities.
"Blaise, I want you to go and find as many books on wizarding legislation as you can. Tell the shopkeepers to bill my vault," Harry said and wrote down his vault information on a piece of paper, before he handed it to Blaise. "Start reading, and don't stop. Trust me, it'll help."
Blaise nodded and accepted the piece of paper.
"Tracey, write down the names and address of the enchanters," Harry said and handed her a pen and a piece of paper. "I'll send them a letter of thanks, just in case."
Tracey began writing down the information.
"Daphne, if your father will put in… 20% of the cost, I will front the remaining 80% of what the owners of the Apothecary will charge for purchasing the establishment."
Daphne nodded.
"Father will almost certainly be willing to put up 30% of the cost," she said. "He also told me to let you know that that he is grateful for the opportunity you've given me at your firm, and invites you over to our estate the coming summer to thank you in person. Knowing him, though, he'll try to grill you for information on your exact plans, too."
"It would be fantastic if he would," Harry smiled slightly. "And, please let him know that I accept his invitation."
Daphne nodded once again, a small, pleased smile on her lips.
"Now, I encourage you three to go and look around the offices," Harry said and stood, at which the other three stood as well. "Tell someone nearby that I officially put them on break while they show you around. I have some business to attend with my assistant."
The three nodded, but looked a little nervous. Apparently, they had caught onto Jaquelin's dread. They left the office, and Harry then fished a form out of the top right drawer of his desk. He held it and looked at it, before he grabbed another, and then started filling in some of the blank spaces on them both.
"Jaquelin, you may come in now!" he called as he sat on the edge of his desk.
Not five seconds later did Jaquelin enter his office, her face pale as a sheet.
"Sir, if this is about sitting in your chair, I'm –"
"Have a seat," Harry gestured at his chair, interrupting her apology.
Jaquelin blinked once. Then twice. And thrice.
"W–what?"
"Have a seat," he repeated, once again gesturing to the chair behind his desk.
Jaquelin stared at his completely calm, neutral expression, but slowly moved over, around the desk, and hesitantly, almost fearfully, sat in the chair.
"How does it feel?" he asked calmly, his face and voice betraying nothing about his emotions.
"I… It feels… good, sir," Jaquelin said.
"Mhmm, I agree," Harry said, and then placed the forms on the desk in front of her. "Jaquelin, I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse."
Jaquelin looked down on the form in front of her, and her eyes widened significantly.
"Is… Is this… real?" she asked as she looked over the things written on the form.
"If you want it to be," he said calmly, and then steadily held out a pen. "All I need… are two signatures."
Jaquelin eyed the pen hungrily, and then looked up at Harry with excitement in her eyes. She took the pen and quickly scribbled her name on the final line of the two forms, and then placed the pen on the table, releasing a deep, shaky breath.
"Jaquelin Luças, as per your written request, you are hereby relieved as Secretary at The Potter Group. And, as per our written agreement, you are now Chief Executive Officer of The Potter Group, effective immediately," he said and gathered the forms, his right hand then finding rest on the woman's shoulder, making her shiver in a strange, carnal delight. "Congratulations on the job. Please don't muck it up."
Jaquelin slowly stood up, and then bowed at the hip, lowering her head submissively.
"Thank you for the opportunity, sir. I won't let you down," she breathed heavily, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
"I think you won't," Harry said. "Does the term 'Hogwarts' mean anything to you?"
Jaquelin straightened with slightly widened eyes.
"So it does," Harry nodded lightly. "Why did you keep it from me?"
Jaquelin stared at it him for a while.
"I thought you had enough to attend to with The Potter Group, sir," she said quietly. "Adding an entirely new world and the title of The Boy Who Lived into the mix, I thought, would be a bit much, even for you."
Harry nodded, and then grabbed a post–it, before writing something on it.
"Loyalty is something I value highly, Jaquelin," Harry said and handed her the note. "Your concern for your boss moves me. I think a 5.000 galleon bonus in a private vault of your own at Gringotts wouldn't be out of the question."
She smiled widely and gingerly took the post–it, and then she took the offered hand and lightly shook it, though her hand was shaking plenty as it was.
"Thank you, sir!" she muttered. "Thank you!"
"Remain loyal to me, Jaquelin, and this will be nothing in ten years," he said and then stood and headed to the door. "Enjoy the office."
He left Jaquelin looking around herself with wide eyes, taking in her new office. He smirked as he closed the door behind himself. He then walked through the floor, down one set of stairs, and then walked over to another office with the nametag reading 'Carl Gregory, Lead Investigator'. He knocked on the door.
"One moment!" the man inside called, making Harry smirk.
He waited for almost a minute, until the door opened, and he saw Gregory standing with a notepad in his hand. Gregory's eyes widened as he saw Harry.
"Oh, forgive me, sir!" he said. "If I –"
"You were busy," Harry waved it off with a small grin. "There is a boy, seventeen years old. He's graduating from my school this summer, and then he's coming here to work and learn as an investigator. I'd like for you to make sure he get's a teacher when he comes here. I also need your assigned teacher to send a report of his activity and progress to my private address every month."
"Yes sir!" Gregory said with a serious nod.
"Good. And it's Mr Potter from now on. Your new boss is just getting acquainted with her office."
Harry winked at the investigator and then walked off to find the trio of Slytherins that were somewhere in his offices.
•••
The foursome strode through Diagon Alley, cutting an imposing figure as they did, all dressed in at least semi–formal attire. Blaise and Tracey were walking with their arms locked, as were Harry and Daphne.
"Which way was the Apothecary?" Harry asked her as they walked.
"Right down there," Daphne gestured a somewhat unassuming storefront.
Harry then proceeded towards the shop, the other three in tow. He held the door open as Daphne unlatched from his arm and headed inside, and then Tracey and Blaise entered, before he himself entered. As he walked in, he turned around and began browsing the wares, his back turned on the counter. The young woman behind the counter looked up at them with a smile.
"Welcome to the Apothecary, the place where you will find all your poitioneering needs. What can I help you with?"
She did seem a little startled by the four people in suits and dress, seeing as it was quite an uncommon occurrence.
"Is the owner in?" Harry asked over his shoulder, still browsing wares.
"Yes?" she asked slowly. "Why?"
Harry finally turned around and sent the young woman an incredibly charming, practically disarming grin.
"Please inform him that Harry Potter is here, and that I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse."
•••
January 31st, 1995
Diagon Alley, London
"Look! There he is!"
"D'you read the Prophet this morning!?"
"We should check it out!"
Harry walked with Daphne on his arm once again. He wore his favourite suit, and she wore a semi–formal dress ending right over her knees, and a blazer on top of it. They were both smiling as they walked towards where a large crowd of people were gathered, staring at the newly repainted shop. On the storefront was the new sign reading 'Potter Apothecary'. People stepped out of their way and applauded the pair as they walked towards the front door, where the former owner was standing in a new suit, smiling widely. Daphne let go of Harry's arm with a smile and stood a few steps away. Harry smiled out at the large gathering and waved at them.
"Thank you for the warm welcome this morning!" he called out to cheers. "It's my pleasure to introduce to you Newton Harp, the former owner," Harry gestured to the elderly man in the new suit who was smiling. "He's getting up there in his years, and I decided that I could bring some new business models to the Apothecary. Our first priority is you," he gestured out at the crowd. "We only have the best quality of ingredients, many of which are homegrown on British soil. Our greatest concern is your potion failing, so to that end, we're also offering top–notch cauldrons, knives and tools, all at a reasonable price so everyone can start making their potions. We're also happy to announce that we're offering a new service. You can make a custom order on any ingredient you need if we don't have it. All so long as it's legal, of course," he added at the men he saw wearing Ministry robes. "We customise your cauldrons and tools to your exact liking at a fairly low price compared to other places. We also deliver ingredients and smaller tools by owl, and we have a small selection of beginner's potions books for anyone who wants to begin getting in to it, and didn't pay attention at Hogwarts. Then again, that applies to just about anyone who wasn't in Slytherin," he chuckled, and the crowd laughed.
Hmm, none of them noticed I'm Slytherin myself.
"Mr Harp," Harry turned to the elderly man and smiled brightly, "thank you for your many years of dutiful service in providing quality ingredients to the people. I wish you the best in your retirement, and don't hesitate to come in for a chat whenever."
"I can rest easily knowing that you're here to take care of the people for me, Mr Potter," Harp said and smiled just as brightly as the two people shook hands. "If you ever need expertise on ingredients, you can ask whenever."
The two of them shook hands and posed for some photographs for the various papers, though a woman far beyond her imagined years wearing an utterly horrendous outfit stepped close with a quill and notepad that floated next to her.
"Mr Potter, Rita Skeeter from the Prophet!" she exclaimed excitedly. "What prompted you to purchase the Apothecary!?"
"Well, I noticed this little, underrated store in Diagon Alley and took a look inside. Now, I'm no potioneer, and I'm no expert on herbology, but in Slug & Jiggers, I could clearly smell the rot that was going on with their ingredients. In here, every single ingredient laying around gave off the exact aroma that it should. Now, I can't blame Slug & Jiggers, of course; the larger the business, the more small details become overlooked, and that's a fact in retail. But I thought that the Apothecary could use a helping hand, and Harp was looking to retire soon. Two birds with one stone, proverbially of course," Harry said with a smile, expertly hiding his disgust for the woman who was almost trying to rub up against him.
Another witch pushed her way forward, though she was far more tolerable.
"Mr Potter, Evanna Lance from Teen Witch Weekly! What is this thing going on between you and young Miss Greengrass!?"
Harry smiled warmly and held his hand out for Daphne. She took it with a warm smile of her own, and he pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
"I don't know," he said and looked back at the reporter. "It just felt… right."
He could feel Daphne stiffen up, but her face revealed nothing out of order. Even as she fluidly leant up and kissed his cheek, he could feel how tense she was, and he was acutely aware of how the display made her feel.
"Do you have any comments to make, Miss Greengrass!?" the TWW reporter asked eagerly.
"No," she said slowly and looked him deep in the eyes. "He summed it up pretty well.
Harry saw the longing in her eyes, yet her face betrayed nothing, as her pureblood training had instilled in her since she was little. Without hesitation, Harry leant in and placed his lips to hers, and she responded eagerly, but his motions were forced, stiff… cold. And he also very abruptly ended it, making Daphne sigh almost inaudibly.
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have to get back to school," Harry said, still smiling brightly as Daphne took his arm once again. He took a final look at Harp. "Have a good retirement, Mr Harp."
"And you have a fine day, Mr Potter," Harp returned with a small nod.
Harry and Daphne then walked back down the street, though when people tried to follow them, there was a sudden 'crack', and the couple disappeared. Harry and Daphne stepped from stone in Diagon Alley to grass right outside the gate to Hogwarts. Daphne immediately let go of him, and looked at him with a frown.
"Why'd you kiss me?" she asked.
"Thought it would sell the image better," Harry said with a shrug and placed his hand on the gate, which opened at his touch. "Your image is almost as important as your business, Daphne. You should know this."
Daphne grew a little sullen, but nodded and followed him through the gates, which closed behind them on their own accord.
"Besides, if we're going to marry, we should start putting up that front now. If we got married out of nowhere when we turn seventeen, people would get suspicious, and that could impact my business."
Daphne looked at him a little strangely.
"Is the business that important to you?"
Before she could react, Harry was standing right in front of her, his eyes hard and cold.
"My business is everything to me. Make no mistake, you're my second priority. My business comes first. And you came to me. You asked me if you could join. And I'm getting you out of your deal with the Malfoys. I like you, Daphne, but I am not in love with you. Don't be confused by my act."
With that, Harry turned around and started walking once again. Daphne felt the burning sting of a tear trying to push it's way out of her right eye, but she kept it in. She also headed towards the castle, her shoulders squared and head held high.
I'm Daphne Bloody Greengrass. I'm better than this. Besides, he's right.
•••
Harry entered the castle around noon and headed straight towards the Slytherin table. He quickly found Blaise and Tracey and sat down with them.
"Where's Daph?" Tracey asked.
"She'll be here any minute," Harry said and began scooping food on his plate. "The unveiling of the Potter Apothecary went well, and Harp performed brilliantly, as did Daphne. Everything's going according to plan for now. Blaise, has your mother made progress?"
"She's found a small–time delivery service in Austria that specialise in transportation of plants and creature parts," Blaise nodded. "Reasonably low fee, very discrete, and they're not averse to slightly shadier transport, either, no additional cost."
"Nice," Harry nodded and took a bite of his toast. "Give her my thanks."
Blaise nodded. Tracey looked a little uncomfortable.
"Are you sure you want to deal in the black market?" she asked.
"A profit's a profit," Harry scooped a spoon of baked beans into his mouth. "Realistically speaking, Diagon Alley will be radically different in ten years' time."
Blaise just nodded and kept eating. He wasn't as opposed to the Dark Arts as Tracey was, nor was Daphne, though the latter preferred they didn't tell her what they were going to do. Harry had found that the Dark Arts came quickly to him. Violent cutting curses, blasting curses, he had even found a nifty, incredibly dangerous spell called 'Fiendfyre'. He'd tried it a few times, and there was something entrancing about it. A kind of euphoric feeling as the cursed fire consumed the forests he apparated to so he could practice in peace. He knew for a fact that McGonagall and Dumbledore would be appalled by the spells he had taught himself, a thought which brought a small, dark chuckle to his throat. Tracey looked at him, clearly uncomfortable with that particular sound.
Harry quickly finished his lunch and then stood up. He left the Great Hall just as Daphne entered, and she didn't spare him even a glance. He shrugged to himself and kept walking, though just as he reached the stairs leading down to the dungeons, he heard a sniffling and some raised voices. His ears perked at the sound, and he then headed up to the first floor. He walked down a hallway and slowly closed in on the sound. He reached a door that was ajar, and he silently pushed it a little more open. He peeked inside, and saw two girls in Slytherin robes, second or third years, curling up in a corner, surrounded by a bunch of boys in Gryffindor robes. He noticed that one of them had red hair.
"You bloody snakes ought'ta learn your lesson," he said with a snarl, his buddies nodding. "You send Potter to McGonagall and think we won't notice? You lost us a hundred bloody points!"
That's all they got? Harry thought to himself with a frown. McGonagall's too soft.
He was abruptly torn from his inner monologue as Weasley kicked one of the girls, making her scream and cry out. Harry felt a vice around his chest squeeze, but he did nothing. He just watched as the Lions beat up the small, defenceless girls, and while he wanted to go in and stop them, he knew what he had to do. Harry stood and waited, watching as the girls were bruised and beaten, all the while a seething rage bubbled up in his chest.
If McGonagall is only going to take points, then I'm going to show them all physical, irrefutable proof.
Harry steeled his heart as he watched the ordeal happen. However, the thing that happened next pushed Harry over the edge. One of them, Finnegan Harry thought his name was, started unbuckling his belt. Harry's eyes widened in fury, but he waited. He waited, right up until he saw that the girls knew exactly what he was about to do. When their scream intensified and they tried to turn away, Harry took a step back and angrily kicked the door open.
The loud slam of the door hitting the stone wall drew the attention of everyone inside, and Harry glared at the boys.
"You gotta be shittin' me," Finnegan said with an angry tone, and was about to start buckling his belt again.
"Don't bother," Harry said in a dark, dangerous voice. "The professors are going to see exactly what's going on here." He then started towards them, but the third boy, a fifth year Gryffindor if Harry remembered correctly, moved towards him as well.
As they closed in on each other, the boy threw his fist at Harry, who just stepped aside and raised his foot. He then brought it down on the boy's knee hard, hyperextending it and making a loud 'crack' resonate in the stone–walled room. The boy screamed and dropped to the ground, but Harry kept moving towards the other two boys. Finnegan tried running at him, but his pants around his knees tripped him up and he fell flat no his face. Harry raised his leg again and brought it crashing down on the boy's head, making another 'crack' sound in the room, and slowly a small puddle of blood began forming on the floor. Seeing what had happened, Weasley drew his wand and fumbled with it, and in the instant of lack of concentration, Harry grabbed Weasley's old, second–hand wand and snapped it in half. Weasley roared out and tried tackling him, but as he lowered his body to run into Harry, Harry simply slammed his knee up into the boy's face. His left fist then landed hard on Weasley's face, and he grabbed the redhead by the collar of his robes. Again and again, he slammed his left fist into the boy's face, each time pulling back a slightly bloodier fist, until the boy's face was almost unrecognisable underneath the blood and with the swelling that was happening in his visage.
Harry's face through it all remained cold, stoic and impassive, yet his eyes burned like green hellfire, and his bruising and bloodied fist rammed the redhead's face one last time before he let go and Weasley unceremoniously dropped next to Finnegan. Harry stood back up and turned to the two girls. He approached them, but they pulled away in fear. Harry didn't let that deter him, and he grabbed one of their wrists each.
"We're going to the Hospital Wing," he said coldly. "Then I'm fetching the professors. That is not up for debate."
He dragged them along the corridors, and they eventually calmed down a little and followed him obediently. Harry led them to the Hospital Wing's doors and then released their wrists.
"Go in and see Madam Pomfrey," he said and turned around.
He just barely managed to hear their sobbing "Thank you", before he headed back down the stairs.
•••
Harry barged into the Head of Gryffindor's office, the door slamming open and making the wizened woman look up at him indignantly.
"You ought to respect the castle, Mr Potter," she said. "Five points from Slytherin."
"I don't give a flying fuck about the castle," Harry said coldly and moved over to her desk, making her eyes widen. "I don't care about respect, when messed up shit like what I just saw is happening here."
McGonagall was shocked beyond speech at his rude, crude, and impolite manner.
"Three of your students just assaulted two Slytherin girls," he said. "Ronald Weasley, the boy Finnegan, and someone else. Now, I am done using gloves," he held up his left hand, and her eyes widened even further (as impossible as it looked) as she saw the blood and the purple bruising that was forming. "From now on, I will shit fury on any Lion who steps a single millimetre out of line, understood?" he asked harshly. "And if all you're going to do to them is give them a talk and take some points, then I will be the fucking executioner. Now go fetch Dumbledore, Sprout, Flitwick, and Snape, and bring them all to the Hospital Wing. I want them all there to see and hear what happened."
Without another word, Harry turned back around and strode out of the room in a quick stride.
•••
Harry pushed open the doors to the infirmary, three boys floating behind him as he walked. When he came over to where the two Slytherin girls were seated and were being seen to by Pomfrey, Harry whipped his wand sharply, and the three boys, tied up in magical rope, dropped to the ground with loud thumps. The sounds drew the attention of the three people who were there, and the girls looked frightened at the sight of the boys, but when they saw Harry, he noticed the glints of hope and awe in their eyes. He walked over and stashed his wand away, before he knelt next to the girls.
"Are you alright?" he asked calmly, and his impassive mask faltered a little, revealing a semblance of concern.
One of them quickly flung her arms around his neck, and he paused for a moment, before he gingerly reciprocated the hug and began rubbing her back.
"It'll be okay," he muttered quietly. "I'll make sure of it."
The girl nodded into his neck, and then sniffed quietly. Harry heard a multitude of footsteps behind him, and he carefully unlatched her arms from him. He smiled and gently patted the top of her head before he turned and walked back towards the culprits and the professors approaching. Harry slipped his wand back into his hand and waved it, creating a sphere of privacy that made it so that the girls couldn't hear what happened.
"You sure took your fucking time getting here," he called out coldly.
"Language, Harry," Dumbledore said.
"Yeah, it's English, I know," Harry replied mirthlessly. "What I need to know is how the fuck kids like these are still here at Hogwarts?"
"Harry, please calm down," Dumbledore calmly said.
"Oh, don't worry about me," Harry said, and then pointed at the girls. "Worry about them. Look at their injuries."
He then walked over to McGonagall and grabbed her by the wrist. She tried to pry him off, but he dragged her to the barrier he had created.
"Look at them!" he shouted at her. "Look! Your Gryffindors did that! What the fuck are you doing!?"
"I will not be spoken to in this manner, Mr Potter," McGonagall said sternly and looked at him angrily. "And release me this instant."
"Not until you tell me how the fuck kids under your supervision can managed to do that!" he shouted again. "Look at the girls, Minerva! Tell me what you see! Because what I see are two beaten, bruised, terrified girls in pain, afraid of going to class because they know that once they leave the common room, they become vulnerable!"
"I can see just fine," McGonagall said.
"Then open your fucking eyes, woman!" he exclaimed and turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, I respect the bloody, infernal Hell out of you, but you need to do something about this shit! And while you figure out what to do, I will do something about it! Now go take a good, close look at the girls, and make your own judgement," his voice calmed down. "I can't stand being anywhere near those hairless apes anymore," he said as he gestured at the three unconscious boys.
Then, he stormed out of the Hospital Wing, leaving the professors to take care of the situation. He had something else he needed to take care of.
•••
"Fairy Lights," Harry said as he stormed towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.
The portrait looked at her strangely.
"You're not a Gry–"
"FAIRY LIGHTS!" Harry shouted at the portrait.
She scowled, but reluctantly swung open for him. He crawled through the opening behind the portrait, and stepped out into the thoroughly red and gold common room, filled with Gryffindors laughing and chatting eagerly. A radio was playing music in a corner, and Harry scowled as he whipped out his wand and sent a blasting curse at the radio, which exploded into a hundred pieces. There were a few screams, but otherwise the room merely went quiet as everyone turned to look at him. Harry stormed forwards, and pushed past a boy who had stood up from his chair at a reading table. He stepped on the chair and then onto the table, and looked out over the gathered students who all looked at him with shock.
"Two little girls from Slytherin are in the infirmary right now!" he shouted at them. "Second or third years! Guess why!"
He waited for almost a second before he continued, as no one answered.
"Because Ronald Fucking Weasley, that Finnegan git and some fifth or sixth year shithead decided to gang up on and beat the living crap out of them! All three of whom, by the way, are also in the infirmary! I thrashed them like the fucking animals they are!" he held up his hand to show it covered in blood and being purple and swollen from bruising. "When I came upon them, they were about to rape the girls! What do you say to that, huh!? I sure have a lot of things to say, and I will say them! But first, I'm going to give you a warning: any more Slytherins end up like that by any of your hands, and you're all going to wish you hadn't come to Hogwarts! I don't give a crap if you get into arguments in the classes or halls or breaks, that's your fight! But if I hear so much as a single fucking tweet about Slytherins being ambushed and assaulted like that, I will start with the first year Gryffindors and work my way up until your House colour is a mix of black, blue, purple and yellow! Do you understand!?"
There was no response other than silence.
"I ASKED: DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND!?" he screamed at them.
There was a general muttering consensus and some nods from all around. Harry glared at them all with a boiling fury, and then stepped off the desk and stormed back out of the portrait. He left a lot of frightened first years and rattled others in his wake, but he didn't care.