Superman II: His Red Kryptonite: A Harry Potter Fanfiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own the song Superman; all rights belong to Five for Fighting and the original creators. I do not own any other crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to the original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.
Plot: Sequel to Superman: One year after making his promise, three stupid mistakes give Harry a reason to not only remember his promise, but ensure nothing stops him from keeping it. He's more than a bird, more than a plane: he's Harry James Potter and it's time you remember that!
Author's Note: So, while I know I said in the one-shot prequel to this adventure that I wouldn't be posting a follow-on, inspiration just would not leave me alone until I caved and brought this idea to life. So, here we go.
Also, it's recommended that, if you haven't read Superman – and that's my one-shot idea, not the comic – then go and do so because this story might not make much sense otherwise.
In the meantime, you know what I always say.
If you don't like it, don't read it.
Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to everyone who enjoyed my one-shot prequel to this adventure: my recommended reads are Proud Parents, Harry Crow, You're my Density and Banking on Her by RobSt, The Rise of the Last Potter by HPfanfictioner66, More Than Equal by Ordinarily Prudent, Gods Amongst Men by Slimah, A Harmonious Beginning by SeventhChordHarmony, The Boy Who Lived, The Brightest Witch and The Boy Who Wasn't by dragonfly117, Strangers On a Train by bonded4life, With You by My Side by HermiHugs, A Different Professor by AsphodelWolf15, Blood is Thicker by StormyFireDragon and You Poked A Dragon by Zetasigma
Key Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
/Parseltongue/
Chapter 1: The Fatal Mistake
"We play our game, Hufflepuff doesn't stand a chance. We're stronger, quicker and smarter."
"And not to mention they're dead scared that Harry'll petrify them if they fly anywhere near him."
"Well, that too."
Even as he followed his teammates out onto the Quidditch Pitch, Harry couldn't help but smile as he shook his head in amusement, sharing in the mocking – but, unlike the rest of the school, it was a good kind of ribbing – remarks made by his Captain, as well as Fred Weasley. Even with all the crap that he was forced to endure ever since the Duelling Club incident, it felt good for Harry to know that he still had some true believers out there.
Of course, there was one person who was so steadfast in her belief in him that, on more than one occasion, Harry had seen said young girl's wand hand twitch with a desire to defend him.
And why? Because she believed in him.
She believed he was a great wizard, and not because of books or cleverness, but because he had something special inside of him, which seemed to draw others to him, though none more than her.
As Harry walked out onto the Quidditch Pitch, still smiling at the humorous remark made by his teammates, though not before he made a mental note to make damn certain he earned and kept their friendship when he caught the Snitch and won them the Cup.
However, at the sight of their Head of House walking towards them with a rolled-up parchment in her hand, Harry's smile fell faster than the Berlin Wall, especially when he heard said Deputy Headmistress address the team with a stern, but also-panicked air about her.
"This match is cancelled."
"What?" laughed Oliver, the disbelief more than evident in his voice as he laughed, "But you can't cancel Quidditch."
"Silence, Wood!" insisted McGonagall, her tone showing the Captain that this was not the time to argue.
As she told the team to return to Gryffindor Tower, however, Harry felt his heart grow very cold in his chest, accompanied by a sickening wave of nausea, dread and unease, all of which seemed to only grow as McGonagall singled him out, even as Wood led the others back to the Tower.
"Potter, you and I need to find Mr Weasley…there is something I think the both of you have to see."
Harry might have been smiling when he walked onto the pitch.
However, he was not smiling by the time he walked off of it.
Nor was he able to rid himself of the icy-cold sensation that seemed to take root in the pit of his stomach, only to flow through the rest of his body, turning his blood to ice, even as he followed his Head of House.
Red K
"I warn you both…this may come as a wee bit of a shock."
As soon as Harry walked into the Hospital Wing alongside Ron and McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress had no idea just how right she was about that.
One minute, she was leading two confused Gryffindors into a place that Harry, quite-honestly, didn't want to see for the rest of the year after having to endure having his bones re-grown and, the next thing she knew, McGonagall heard a sharp intake of breath from Gryffindor's star Seeker when he caught sight of what it was that McGonagall warned them about.
Hermione Granger, completely-frozen in place, one hand held up while her eyes were permanently-frozen in a wide-eyed look of alarm.
If not for those wide eyes, she might have been merely sleeping, but, while Ron let out a breathless gasp of disbelief, Harry's reaction was stiff, unyielding and filled with no small amount of horror, even as he stared at his best friend.
"No."
"I'm sorry," said McGonagall, standing beside the petrified girl's bed, even as she indicated a second bed before she added, "But she was found with Miss Clearwater, the Ravenclaw Prefect, along with this."
Here, McGonagall indicated a mirror that was lying next to Hermione's bed, the glass in the mirror shattered beyond recognition while the compact size and design suggested that it was something any other girl might have used, which was probably how Clearwater had ended up being petrified.
After all, it was no secret to the so-called Golden Prince of Gryffindor that Hermione didn't care about such fickle things like personal appearance or what people thought of her.
She was called Hermione Granger, not Lavender Brown and definitely not Draco Malfoy.
"No."
"How did…why did she go?"
"No."
"Why didn't she come with me? She knew how dangerous it was; she never listens…all she cares about is being right!"
"No."
"Harry, is that all you can say?" asked Ron, turning to face his friend.
However, when he did so, his eyes widened with alarm, as well as a small amount of dread when he saw Harry standing stock-still, his green eyes glowing much like the curse that had made him famous while his hands were clenched so tightly that, when Ron looked down, he actually saw drops of blood dripping onto the floor of the Hospital Wing, but, when he looked back up at Harry's face, he didn't see tears of pain or even sorrow.
All he saw was pure, unbridled, unrestrained rage that burned in the eyes of the young wizard as he stared at Hermione's body.
"Potter," said McGonagall, a mix of fear and personal authority in her voice as she told him, "I understand how this must feel for you…"
"If you did, you wouldn't be about to try and get me to leave," argued Harry, though his voice was as cold as ice and just as terrifying to hear, as he kept his eyes on Hermione's body.
McGonagall, meanwhile, tried to help the boy overcome the rage that she could see threatening to spew forth as she told him, "I…I understand how you must feel, Potter, but…but I have to address the House and…"
"You can address the whole damn school for all I care, McGonagall, I am not leaving her!" growled Harry, clenching his teeth in such a way that it made him sound like his least-favourite Professor, even as he looked to the Head of Gryffindor, who visibly flinched at the cold, unyielding, steely determination she could see in Harry's eyes as he hissed at her. "This is all your fault anyway! Yours and every other useless teacher who decided to do nothing to stop all the crap aimed at me; you just didn't care."
Now the tears started to flow, even as Harry indicated Hermione before he added, "The only one who cared was her, and whoever…whatever is really behind this…they knew that."
"Harry, that's not true," retorted Ron, indicating Hermione as he insisted, "You heard McGonagall: she had the mirror, not that she ever uses such a thing. I mean, it was obviously not for her hair, was it? So…"
"If you value your teeth, Ronald Weasley, you'll shut up now!" snapped Harry, stepping past Ron, while doing everything in his power not to actually shove the redhead down as he brushed past him, before he stood vigilant by Hermione's side, holding out his bleeding right hand as he traced it over her face, moving down to her hand, which he clasped tightly, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand as he stared down at her.
"I'm sorry."
"That's okay, mate; you have every right to…"
"I wasn't apologising to you, Ronald!" hissed Harry, though he didn't look up from Hermione, as he held tightly to her hand before he added, "I was apologising to her…because if it wasn't for narrow-minded nitwits like you and over half this school, she wouldn't have had to try and defend me. Which means she wouldn't have gone off to the library, let alone on her own…I should have gone with her…I shouldn't have given a fudge about the fudging match!"
"Harry, it's Quidditch!"
"And?" asked Harry, staying by Hermione's side, while he growled through clenched teeth, "You know, it's not the end of the world if someone can't play one stupid game, Ronald: I should have gone with her. I should have made sure she was safe. I should have been there for her…just like she was there for me…"
"When?" asked Ron.
Harry, however, didn't hear him.
Instead, he heard a different voice, namely the one that belonged to the brunette below him as it echoed through his mind…
Flashback Start
"I'm more than a scar…"
"I know," whispered Hermione.
"I'm more than a title…"
"I know."
"I'm more…I want to be more than just their son…known for…for being like them…"
"Then you know what to do, don't you?" asked Hermione, parting from the embrace before she wiped the tears from Harry's eyes, smiling at him with the same friendly air she'd often showed around him as she explained, "You need to let people know you are more, Harry…"
Here, Harry felt a small laugh rise up inside him when Hermione lifted a hand and pulled off his glasses, bringing the world into fuzzy view for him, but, at the same time, he could still make her out as she told him, "You need to take off these glasses and show the world who you really are…and if they can't accept that part of you, that's their problem. People like that…they're not friends…they're just part of the crowd."
Flashback End
"I knew she was right," whispered Harry, seemingly in a trance as he kept one hand on Hermione and the other by his side, the second hand still clenched tightly, once again shedding blood onto the ground as he hissed, "I promised her I would try…I promised her I'd be careful…I would come back for her…to her…"
Unseen by Harry, McGonagall smiled thinly, as well as sadly, when she heard Harry quickly correct himself, his eyes still burning with tears of pain and anger as he whispered, "But with everything that happened…the Stone…Dobby…this stupid Chamber of Secrets mystery…Lockhart…learning I could speak to snakes…and Quidditch…especially Quidditch!"
"Harry, you don't know what you're talking about!"
"Professor," said Harry, wiping his tears from his eyes with his free hand as he looked up at her, "You should take Ronald back to Gryffindor Tower before there's one more bed to be needed around here!"
"Then you should come with me, Potter," suggested McGonagall.
However, when Harry shook his head slowly, McGonagall was torn between scolding him for being so thoughtless and hurting even more when she saw him sit by the petrified form of Miss Granger, never once letting go of her hand as he whispered, "I won't leave her…not again…"
"For Merlin's sake…"
"Mr Weasley, that's quite enough!" insisted McGonagall, moving past the bed before she took Ron by the shoulder as she told him, "Any true friend would understand just how much Potter is hurting right now. Therefore, I will allow you one night, Potter, but after this, I want you back in Gryffindor Tower after your last lesson every night; furthermore, you and your class will be escorted between lessons until this trouble is dealt with."
"Fine," said Harry, though as he did so, he looked up when he saw McGonagall aim her wand at him.
However, the only thing she did was heal the cuts along his palm from where his nails had shed his blood, cleaning the floor of said blood as well, even as she told him, "Mind your anger, Potter; I don't need to tell you how scary your parents could be when they lost it, especially Lily."
"Actually, you do, since I never knew them, duh!"
"I will forgive, but not forget that, Potter," said McGonagall, allowing Harry a bit of leeway because of how angry she knew he was, even as she escorted a still-protesting Ron out of the Hospital Wing before Potter made good on his promise to occupy one more bed if the still-complaining redhead didn't get out of his sight before too long.
Honestly, their friend was another victim of the attacks and all the redhead could do was moan about Harry's opinion on Quidditch.
Where, exactly, were his priorities?
Red K
When Madam Pomfrey came around later that night, much like the Head of Gryffindor, she didn't know whether to be angry, annoyed or pitying as she saw the hunched-over form of Harry James Potter sitting faithfully by Hermione Granger, his lean, unusually-thin frame barely able to occupy the rest of the space by her side while his head had fallen forwards as the boy finally surrendered to Morpheus' embrace. His glasses had fallen into his lap, but that didn't stop his tears staining the lenses, nor had it stopped the pain showing on his face as he mumbled and moaned in his sleep.
As she drew her wand, intending to resize the bed and allow the boy a more-comfortable position by the side of his dearest of friends, however, Poppy's heart shattered when she heard Harry mumble in his sleep.
"No…Hermione…not you too…I can't lose you…I can't…I won't…I won't!"
Suddenly, Poppy gasped when she saw Harry's head snap up, his green eyes blazing with fury and steely determination as he looked around, fumbling in the near-pitch darkness for his glasses.
"They're in your lap, Potter," said Madam Pomfrey, making Harry jump before, nodding his thanks, he lifted his glasses back onto his face, even as the matron approached him with a lit wand, illuminating her face, "I know Professor McGonagall let you stay tonight, but…if you ever want to be here, I can resize Miss Granger's bed, so it's more-comfortable for you to be near her."
"I don't actually want to be here, Madam Pomfrey, no offence," said Harry, his voice low, but filled with pain and sorrow as he looked back to Hermione before he added, "And she shouldn't be here either…none of them should be. I mean, honestly, what is taking that pathetic excuse for a Potions Master so long in the first place?"
"The Mandrakes are nearly ready…but they're going to need some time before they can be added to the potion we need."
"So why not order them in instead of waiting a whole year, almost, for the seedlings to mature? I mean, surely there's an Apothecary or mail-order greenhouse place who could give you the Mandrakes you need, couldn't they?" asked Harry, earning a surprised look from Poppy, who silently agreed with that question, but the fact that Potter had been the one to say it was both surprising and intriguing.
Harry, meanwhile, looked down at Hermione before he whispered, "If they'd done that…like you said when Colin was attacked, Mione…you would be okay…you wouldn't be here…you'd be safe…you'd be happy…"
"All right, let me help make you a bit more comfortable, Potter," said Madam Pomfrey, smiling with amused pity when she saw Harry yawn as he said the last parts. One flick of her wand later, Madam Pomfrey saw Harry slide down the resized bed, still holding Hermione Granger's hand as he lay next to her, not even bothering to remove his glasses as he looked at her still, frozen form.
"Thank…thank you…"
"You're welcome," said Madam Pomfrey, though when she went to remove the boy's glasses, he batted her hand away, "Potter, you can't wear glasses in bed…"
"I won't leave her…"
Sighing with resignation, a part of her remembering another Potter who was just as stubborn and bull-headed when it came to defending those he cared a great deal about, Poppy shook her head as she told him, "All right, but if you want to keep this privilege, and have me face the possible wrath of Professor McGonagall for giving you this right, I want you to make me a promise, young man…are you listening?"
"Mm-hm."
"Tomorrow morning, you're to go and eat breakfast with your housemates, as well as other meals, to keep up your strength; you can't do Miss Granger any good if you collapse from hunger or exhaustion now, can you?"
"I…I promise…" said Harry, yawning again as he kept his eyes on Hermione, her frozen features being the last thing he wanted to see when he closed his eyes and the first thing when he opened them again.
As his eyes drooped again, slowly succumbing to Morpheus' embrace, Harry missed the sad smile that crossed Poppy's face as she turned and headed back to her office; instead of retiring for the night, however, the matron walked past her chambers and opened the door to her medical cupboard, slowly examining the names and identifications of the potions there with a renewed sense of focus.
If Potter wouldn't let her take his glasses off, out of fear of not being able to see Miss Granger, then she would do something about it.
It was about time someone did something to try and help that young man become the wizard that a certain petrified brunette clearly believed he was meant to be.
'Now, where did I put that Oculus Potion?'
Red K
The next morning, after waking to the welcome-and-also-unwelcome sight of Hermione's still-petrified body, Harry slowly pulled himself up before looking up when he heard Madam Pomfrey approach the bed.
To his bewilderment, she was carrying two vials, both of which were differently-coloured, which made Harry's heart sink into his stomach since he realised they weren't the Mandrake Restorative Draught that Hermione needed.
Seeing the boy's disappointed face, Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat as she handed him the vials, "Sorry, Potter; these aren't what you're hoping they are. The first one is a high-class Healer's draught known as the Oculus Potion, which, personally, I'm a little surprised you never considered asking for when I first met you last year."
"Well, that's probably because I've never heard of it," drawled Harry, the cold indifference more than obvious in his sarcastic remark, even as he eyed the small, semi-translucent greyish potion in his hand as he asked, "What does it do?"
"If taken over the course of four days, it can repair and restore the function of your eyes," explained Madam Pomfrey, earning a shocked look from Harry as he looked up at her.
"You…you mean, if I take this over the next four days, I…I won't need to wear my glasses?"
"Precisely…" Poppy began, but before she could say anything else, she watched Harry down the vial, gulping hard and grimacing at the taste, before the matron laughed softly as she added, "Somehow, I knew you were going to do that and yet I'm still impressed; now, you'll need the next one tomorrow, around the same time, and, over the next four days, you'll feel some itchiness in your eyes coupled with sensitivity to bright lights, so if it gets too uncomfortable, come and see me."
"I…I will," said Harry, even as he looked to the bluish-coloured vial in his other hand as he asked, "And this one?"
"Standard Nutrient Replenishing Draught," replied Poppy, though when Harry went to take that, the matron quickly slammed her hand over the top as she added, "No, Potter: you have to take that on a full stomach and after every meal. Since I know you'll be coming back before dinner, I'll give you the next one then, but you must eat a full meal, as in gut-distending full, do you understand?"
Judging by the grimace that crossed Harry's face, he did understand, but he still thanked the matron for her assistance, even as he rose from the bed before he asked, "So, I can come back, then?"
"Not at the cost of your education," argued Poppy, earning a scoff from Harry.
"Binns, Snape and Lockhart all in one day…not exactly missing anything important, am I?"
Red K
When Harry walked into the Great Hall, his Nutrient Draught in his pocket, however, the first thing he saw were people sneering and jeering at him, their expressions either smug or beyond-disgusted.
'Okay, that's officially it!' thought Harry, ignoring the beckoning gestures from Ron and several Gryffindors as, instead, he walked to the front of the hall, ignoring the looks he was getting from the other Houses, as well as the staff, as he stood where Dumbledore would stand when he made the start-and-end-of-year announcements.
"Oi, you lot! Listen!"
"Potter!" snapped Snape, even as a couple of students responded to Harry's voice, "Detention for a week…"
"Which, if it's with you, you biased, greasy piece of shit, I won't be attending!" snarled Harry, earning a few horrified gasps from the students, even as Harry rounded on Snape as he sensed the man rising from his seat. "What? Going to attack me here, Snape? Well, go ahead because, trust me, the only one who could stop me isn't in this hall, so go on: see what it really looks like to piss off a Potter!"
"Harry," interrupted Dumbledore, earning a cold glare from the boy that alarmed the Headmaster even more than the fact that he'd spoken out against Severus. "I'm sure Professor Snape means nothing personal, but this is highly unusual."
"What can I say? I'm finally speaking my mind and settling the score here and now!" insisted Harry, turning away from the staff, even as he addressed the hall, "That is if you bunch of sanctimonious hypocrites can turn your eyes away from your own egos and dinner and listen for once in your short, stupid lives!"
Suffice to say, this remark earned many more looks from the students, though not before Dumbledore surprised everyone, even Harry, when he fired off a loud bang from his wand, silencing the hall before, rising from his golden chair, he addressed the hall, "Now, I know this is an unusual event, children, but if we can all listen to what Mr Potter has to say, we can return to our feast soon enough."
"Headmaster!"
"I, personally, would like to know what Mr Potter wishes to say, Severus," argued Professor Flitwick, earning a nod of mutual agreement from Professor Sprout, even as the goblin teacher added, "Especially since everyone else seems to have their own opinions of Mr Potter's role in the unfortunate events that have cursed our school this year."
"And that, Professor, is exactly what I want to talk about," said Harry, giving the Charms Master a curt nod of thanks, even as he looked back to the students, all of whom were now listening, if only because Dumbledore had been the one to say that Harry had the right to speak.
Harry, on the other hand, drew himself to his full height as he added, "Now, I'll try and make this quick because, like you, I'm hungry too, but, by now, I'm sure you've all heard of the most-recent double attack here at Hogwarts…an attack on Penelope Clearwater, a pure-blood student who is also a Ravenclaw Prefect, and…and…Hermione Granger."
When Harry heard sniggers from the Slytherins, he didn't hold back, "Malfoy!"
Draco's head snapped up, even as Harry snarled at him, "Muzzle your baying hyenas before I do decide to sic a monster of a different sort on them, starting with you!"
"You dare…"
"Oh, I definitely dare, you cowardly little bastard!" snapped Harry, earning an alarmed look from Draco, almost as though he was looking at Harry for the first time ever, while the emerald-eyed scion returned his attention to the rest of the hall.
"I dare because, frankly, you're all a bunch of snivelling, wet, traitorous cowards who wouldn't know real loyalty if it bit you on your elitist asses! After all, over the past eleven years, you've all been perfectly content coming up with your own ideas about who I am. Ooh, famous Harry Potter; a hero for the masses, bigger than Jesus, capable of slaying dragons and extremely-powerful magic…ooh, let's kiss the ground he walks on and say it's an honour to meet him! Well, even then, you were all annoying me, but then, because you discover something even I didn't know about myself, you all changed your minds about me: all of a sudden it's ooh, look out, it's the big, bad, Dark-Lord-wannabe Heir of Slytherin, who gets his jollies sending his monster after Muggle-borns and trying to finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work!"
As Harry snarled out the last words, he then laughed, a cold, but disbelieving laugh, as he asked, "Now, I admit, I would be interested to see if there actually is a connection between me and the Founder of a House I was almost sorted into…yes, Malfoy and Snape, I was nearly a Slytherin!"
"I knew it!"
"Ernie, sit down and shut up; every time you open your mouth, you lower the IQ of the whole magical world," drawled Harry, earning a few titters from the Gryffindors, as well as a couple of others who seemed to follow Harry's train of thought, while said boy went on. "Now, I don't deny it; I was almost a Slytherin, but I said no because I didn't want to be the kind of person that someone might compare to a monster like Voldemort or a spoilt little brat like Draco Malfoy."
While many flinched at the use of Voldemort's name, Harry saw Malfoy's eyes widen at the fact that Harry considered him part of the reason he'd turned down the chance to join Slytherin House.
Harry, meanwhile, wasn't finished, "And now, because I discover I can talk to snakes, I'm suddenly evil and out to exterminate all Muggle-borns, am I? Well, let me answer that slander with a question of my own: what's my Mother's name?"
"Lily Evans, later-Potter," replied a blonde-haired Ravenclaw, earning a thankful smile from Harry, even as, behind him, Snape suddenly turned an even nastier shade of green, while Harry looked to the blonde.
"Thank you, Miss…and, just to clarify, what was my Mother?"
"She was a Muggle-born, whom was as great and powerful as Lady Rowena and Lady Morgana…ooh, do you think she was a reincarnation?"
"Shut up, Loony!" snapped another Ravenclaw, earning a scowl from Harry.
"You know, you just reminded me of another thing I hate, and that's a bully," said Harry, his green eyes burning once again as he told the Ravenclaws, "And given the fact you're meant to be the so-called wise House, I wonder how stupid you have to be to become a bully to someone who is a little different from you…probably as stupid as every Tom, Dick and Larry who thinks the son of a Muggle-born witch would want to kill other Muggle-borns just to get his jollies."
"So…pretty stupid?" asked the blonde, earning a scoff from Harry.
"Pretty stupid, yeah…what is your name, Miss?"
"Luna Lovegood, Harry Potter," said the blonde, earning another smile from Harry.
"Nice to meet you, Luna…now, where was I?"
"Your Mum?"
"That's right," said Harry, looking away from the smiling Luna to address the hall again as he added, "My Mum, who is, was, and always will be the greatest witch of our time in my eyes, not because she was powerful or gifted, but because she was loving, caring and even willing to defy that snake-faced coward, Voldemort, to protect her only son…which brings me onto my other fact: who is my best friend?"
"Me!" insisted Ron.
"Um…nope!" remarked Luna, earning another smile from Harry as he nodded at her, even as the blonde decided to fill in the blanks. "His best friend, as even someone like me can tell, has brown hair, brown eyes, nice teeth and a mind worthy of Lady Rowena and her daughter, who I bet would love her as much as you do, Harry Potter."
"Maybe," agreed Harry, wiping tears from his eyes at how Luna so casually described even a shred of Hermione's brilliance, before he returned his attention to the hall as he pressed on.
"But she's right: Hermione Jean Granger, another Muggle-born is my best friend and, quite frankly, with the exception of probably my Quidditch teammates and a couple of Gryffindors I could mention, but won't embarrass them, is the only person who believes in me and knows, without needing any proof or convincing, that I am not responsible for these attacks…and do you know why?"
"Because she's a jumped-up Mudblood who deserves everything she…"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
To the shock of the Slytherins, as well as the rest of the students, it was Harry himself who fired the spell at Pansy Parkinson, sending her to the floor, while Harry's eyes burned with renewed fire as he growled, "Never call my Hermione that word, Parkinson: in fact, never call any Muggle-born that word where I can hear you."
"Potter, a month…"
"Snape, either shut up or I'll break your nose again!" snapped Harry, earning more surprised gasps from the school, while Harry turned on his heel and glared at the Slytherin Head as he added, "And unlike your narrow-minded students, I won't need foolish wand-waving or silly incantations to do it: comes with being raised by magic-hating Muggles who tried to stamp it out of me!"
This revelation earned more than a few disbelieving gasps, as well as whispers, from the school, but Harry wasn't done.
"Shut up!"
As the hall fell silent, while Harry spun around to face them again, the emerald-eyed scion continued, "Now, like I said, I'm going to keep this short, so here's the bare bones of it…right now, my best friend is lying in the Hospital Wing because she chose to do whatever she could to defend my honour against you sycophants. Because of that, while I was surrounded by my teammates, I don't hesitate to add, some coward decided she was a threat and had the monster petrify her. Clearly, they thought they'd be safe, but they were wrong!"
To the alarm of the students, an ominous rumble of thunder filled the skies, and the enchanted ceiling, while the light in the Great Hall seemed to dim, as though the school herself was reacting to Harry's ire as he went on.
"Whoever you are, whatever House you're in, I'm telling you now: you made your third stupid mistake going after my Hermione…the first was opening the Chamber in the first place…the second was attacking Muggle-borns and pointing the finger of blame in my direction…the third was attacking Hermione and thinking you'd get away with it, because, I promise you, you won't!"
To the unease of every student in the school, Harry's green eyes seemed to scan the tables like a predator stalking his prey as he continued.
"By attacking Hermione, you've taken away the only one that could have stopped me doing what I have to do to stop you, so, consider this a warning: enjoy your victory because I'm going to find you…and when I do, I'm going to make you sorry you ever came anywhere near my friends. I will make you sorry you ever opened that chamber in the first place and, if that monster of yours tries to stop me, I'll kill it…and the only thing that'll stop me is seeing her alive and happy again…"
Here, Harry jabbed a thumb at the white-faced Potions Master as he added, "So, if I were you, coward, I would hope this grease stain finally pulls his finger out of his own ass long enough to do something to help someone other than his own ego. Because I am coming for you and, thanks to what you've taken away from me, there is no power on this earth that will stop me, not Dumbledore, not McGonagall, not the Ministry: nothing!"
As though Hogwarts herself were listening, a flash of lightning lit up the enchanted ceiling, alarming many of the students, even as Harry went on.
"All right…now, we can get back to enjoying breakfast!"
Wow, talk about a beginning that didn't want to end, but now it's all over, what will Harry do regarding the mystery of the chamber and in a bid to keep his word?
Without the only one that might stop him from crossing a line and walking down the highway to the danger zone, what is he willing to do to make absolutely certain this mystery ends?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry is out for blood, and nothing is going to put the tickled dragon back to sleep, but that doesn't stop a certain someone from trying, though not before events take an even darker turn…
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