Chapter Four

Monday morning, Harry sighed as he walked up the pathway to the school. He really did not want to be here, but Mr. Graves had failed to get that law repealed. Then again he only had two days and one of them was a Sunday after all. Even Harry didn't expect a miracle.

However, the high point of his morning was when he had forced Snape to take the floo network from the Leaky Cauldron to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade instead of directly to the castle. He wanted to miss the gathering of students for breakfast. Harry didn't trust that barmy old codger of making some grand announcement in front of everyone and expecting Harry to play nice about it. Like that was ever going to happen.

"Potter, can you explain to me again how it is that you managed to talk me into flooing here instead of apparating to the gates," snarled Snape.

Harry sighed and explained once again, "One, I do not have an apparition license nor do I know how to. If you'll remember I've been in a tiny dirty little cell in Azkaban for one year, three months, two weeks, four days, seven hours, thirteen minutes and twenty six seconds. Two, it's a lovely brisk morning and I thought it would be nice to take the scenic route to school and three, it annoys the hell out of you."

"Brisk? It is winter Potter, not the middle of summer. This is hardly brisk," grumbled Snape while a white cloud of exhalation came out of his mouth.

Harry smirked from behind the hood of his new heavy winter cloak as they entered the main door of the castle where Professor McGonagall was waiting for him.

"Harry Potter," McGonagall said, "We were expecting you much earlier than this. We were beginning to wonder if you had decided to run away."

Annoyance filled him. "Professor," Harry replied curtly and coldly. "I can't imagine why you would have thought that, I do have a personal jailer following me at all times. Surely if I had done that Dumbledore would have called the entire Order out to hunt me down like some criminal."

McGonagall frowned at the boy's coldness but said nothing about it. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office."

Harry nodded, fully expecting and secretly desiring to meet with the Headmaster this morning. "I assume that I will be forced to endure the placement back in Gryffindor Tower?"

"You need not make it sound like you are being condemned young man," the transfiguration teacher said sternly. "We are only trying to help you to readjust to your old life."

Harry had gotten to her but he hid the look of glee that was blossoming in his chest. "Eppy, are you here?"

"Yes, Master Harry, Eppy is being here," squeaked the young elf as she popped into the entrance hall.

"Would you please be so kind as to take my trunk up to Gryffindor Tower?"

Eppy giggled at her master, she did like him as she had hoped and said, "Yes Master Harry, where is it being?"

"Mr. Potter, students are not allowed personal house elves. You should know that by now," McGonagall said as she watched the two talking.

"You're right professor; it is against the school rules. I think as punishment you should expel me immediately."

"Don't be ridiculous Mr. Potter," snapped McGonagall. Then turning to the elf she said, "If you wait here, another house elf will come to collect Potter's possessions. They can show you around the castle and where Gryffindor Tower is."

Smirking Snape said, "Nice try, brat."

"Shut up you greasy git," whispered Harry as he followed his head of house up the marble stairs towards the Headmaster's office.

x-x-x-x-x

"Ah Harry," beamed the Headmaster, "I see that you've finally arrived."

"Unfortunately."

Dumbledore ignored the statement. "Why don't' you have a seat. Lemon drop?"

"No thank you, I don't think my stomach could handle the sweets after one year, three months, two weeks, four days, seven hours, thirteen minutes and twenty six seconds of living on nothing but cold gruel and dirty water," replied Harry as he began to see just how far he could push the Headmaster.

"Yes, I understand. Now, as it happens you are in luck, I had cancelled the morning classes in order for you to become reacquainted with your housemates again."

"That won't be necessary."

"Harry," the Headmaster sighed, "You need to get in touch with your feeling towards your friends again, so you can forgive them and get on with your life."

"You mean so that they won't feel guilty for the betrayals they cast on me?"

"Yes, Harry, that's it exactly."

"Fuck them! Fuck their feelings! And fuck you for forcing this on me."

"Harry, language like that will not be tolerated in this school."

"Of course, you're right, I should be punished. Expel me! That'll teach me a lesson."

"Nice try," chuckled the Headmaster. "Now I have prepared your class schedule for you and I have instructed all of your instructors to help you along to catch up on the year and half of school work you missed out on."

"No."

"No? What do you mean Harry?"

"I mean that I will not do one moment of seventh year work or classes. I missed out on too much and refuse to allow you to force me to kill myself on triple the work when it's not necessary. I will simply have to enter into the classes with the other sixth years and make up only the fall term's work."

"Harry, wouldn't you feel more comfortable being in classes with people you know?"

"I know the sixth years, I don't like any of them, but I know them. In fact I trained them when they were fourth years in Defense Against the Dark Arts. You remember that year? When I was forced to endure a year long fight with a woman who carved word in my flesh and generally made my life a living hell. Does this ring any bells?"

Dumbledore sighed and ignored the boy as he continued, "Here is your schedule Harry."

Looking it over, Harry said, "No, I don't think so. I don't want to take these classes. My solicitor, Mr. Algernon Graves, looked into detail in the little faux law of yours and saw several gaping holes in it, which I am now going to taking advantage of."

"Holes?" chuckled Dumbledore confident in his manipulations. "What holes would those be?"

"Your law only says I have to be in the castle and get an education, it never said which classes I had to take."

"But in order for you to become an Auror, you will need these classes, Harry. I'm sure that once you've thought about it, you'll understand."

"I don't want to be an Auror anymore," Harry stated simply. "The classes I want to take are History of Magic, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies and Divination."

"But, Harry, you've never even had three of those classes before. How do you expect to learn over three years of previous work when you're unwilling to do a single one in your other classes?"

Smiling for the first time since arriving in the castle, Harry said with great delight, "That's simple; I plan to flunk out of school."

Dumbledore looked shocked by this but recovered quickly.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that," Professor Dumbledore said with conviction. "You will need this education in order to survive in the world."

"How are you going to force me to study or do any magic at all for that matter?"

"Very well then Harry, could you explain to me how you plan on living without these skills?

"Again, that's simple," Harry explained, "I plan on living as a Muggle for the remainder of my life."

"Living as a Muggle? You can't be serious Harry; you would miss being a wizard far too much for that."

Harry just stared at the old man and said, "Why would I want to live in a society that would put a sixteen year old boy through what I've been put through. Where is the justice in that?"

Suddenly the Headmaster was looking very weary and Harry knew he was finally beginning to win this one, so he decided to make a concession. Harry had figured he'd loose this particular battle anyway, so conceding wouldn't hurt his overall plan. In fact it would strengthen it slightly, oh how Harry loved his inner Slytherin some days. However, before he could say anything the Headmaster spoke first.

"Alright Harry, I'll let you alter your schedule, but I cannot in good conscious allow you to attend classes you've never been in before. So I'm afraid that I cannot allow you to take Arithmancy or Ancient Runes classes. I must also insist that you take Charms, Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts. You can pick the remainder of the classes yourself."

"What not forcing me into Potions?" asked Harry a little on the skeptical side.

"Considering your past history with Professor Snape, I would have thought you would be pleased."

"Oh, I am, I was just wondering why you weren't trying to force Snape and me together so I could forgive him also. That does seem to be a theme with you," Harry explained.

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore corrected.

"Don't ever correct me again," Harry said darkly. "I will refer to that greasy git whatever I damn well please and you will live with it."

Once again the Headmaster ignored a comment made by Harry, thinking that it was his pain and anger talking and never once considering the fact that Harry might actually hate them. Heaven forbid that happen.

"Will this be all or did you have something else you wanted to talk about?"

"Actually, yes there is Harry. Why did you have all of your school supplies shipped to the castle? I took the liberty of placing them in your dormitory room already, of course."

"Well, since you ordered them, I had them shipped to you. It seemed only fair."

"Fair? How is that fair Harry? I'm afraid I don't quite follow you."

Smiling broadly for the second time since returning to Hogwarts, Harry said, "Because I charged those things to your personal Gringott's account since you ordered them."

x-x-x-x-x

A short time later Harry was walking through the hallways heading back to Gryffindor Tower. He was rather happy remembering the look on the Headmaster's face when he found out about the payment of his school supplies. Oh how he wished he owned a camera right at that moment.

Pausing briefly at the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry gave the password and entered into the Lion's den. Or maybe it was a graveyard as the entire house fell silent as he entered the room. Harry scanned the room and saw many faces that he knew and a few younger ones that he did not.

'Oh this is going to be interesting,' Harry thought as he started to cross the room towards the stairs leading up to the seventh year's dormitory.

"Harry?"

Harry stopped and muttered, "Shit. I knew it was too good to last." Turning he looked into the face of the one person who worshipped him more than any other. "Yes, Creevey, what do you want?"

"I just wanted to say welcome back."

Harry looked the boy up and down and then curtly said, "Yeah, thanks." Then he turned to resume his trek up the stairs. That was the plan anyway.

"Harry?"

Stopping again without turning he replied, "Yeah, what now?"

Colin answered, "I was wondering if we could all just forget that Azkaban business and continue on like we did before."

Of all the things in the world for anyone to say right then and there, at that moment in time, this was probably THE worst possible thing. I mean really reread this story from the beginning if you have to. Turning slowly to face the blonde haired sixth year boy who had practically drooled over him since the day they met, Harry's face was mass of fury and hatred. Everyone else in the common room gasped and stepped back. Everyone but Colin that is, as he wasn't the sharpest tack in the box.

"Forget about that Azkaban business?" hissed Harry menacingly. "Just how do I do that Creevey? How does someone who spent one year, three months, two weeks, four days, seven hours, thirteen minutes and twenty six seconds in a tiny little dirty cell that was patrolled by Dementors twenty four hours a day, every single day of my time there for a crime that any fool with half a brain should have known I did NOT commit? How does someone go and forget about being accused of murdering Hagrid, Professor Trelawney, Percy Weasley, several house elves and that large three headed dog named Fluffy? How do I do that Creevey? HOW!"

Colin didn't have an answer for Harry. In fact all he did do was stand there with his lower lip quivering. Finally he bolted from the common room, past Harry and up the stairs to the sixth year dormitory to cry his little heart out. In case no one realized it, but Colin Creevey is a big old poofy gay boy.

Part of Harry felt bad for doing it, but it needed to be done and once again he started up the stairs.

"Was that necessary Harry?"

"Damn it! I just want to go up and change my clothes before lunch," Harry said under his breath. Turning once again, making Harry feel like a rotisserie, he found himself facing Hermione Granger, Head Girl. "Yes it was, Granger."

"The Harry Potter I knew would never do that in a hundred years."

"The Harry Potter you knew is dead. He rotted away in prison, where his friends sent him."

Hermione flinched back as if being slapped in the face, hard. "No, he isn't dead. He's just hurt," she whispered.

"Whatever," Harry replied coldly. Then to the common room he announced, "I'm going to take a shower and change before going to lunch. Anyone who wishes to bother me during this process," Harry paused for effect, "Be very, very afraid!"

x-x-x-x-x

Sometime later, as everyone in the school was in the Great Hall for lunch, the Headmaster was watching the double doors waiting for Harry to arrive. He was planning on making an announcement about Harry's return, which he had planned on making that morning, but Harry wasn't there.

Just then the doors opened and everyone in the hall turned to see Harry's return to the school. Many of the Slytherins, led my Draco Malfoy were waiting to throw insults at him. After all, his father had been sent to Azkaban because of Harry.

However, what everyone saw silenced the whole room. They had expected to see Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy-Who-Triumphed, the golden boy of Gryffindor House, the savior of the wizarding world. However, that was not what they saw.

Standing in the doorway was indeed Harry Potter, wearing his most prized possession in the world, the smelly, dirty rags he wore when he was in Azkaban. Everyone in the hall was stunned into absolute silence. Even Draco Malfoy didn't know what to say. What could you say to that after all?

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry said politely. "Where you all waiting for me to eat?"

No one responded to his question.

Harry continued pleasantly, "Don't stand on ceremony for me; I've just come to have my regular, once a day meal of cold gruel and a bowl of dirty water. I'm not sure my stomach could handle anything else after one year, three months, two weeks, four days, seven hours, thirteen minutes and twenty six seconds of living on that everyday, if they remembered to feed me at all that is. I'll just sit here in the dirt and eat what little I am given, pay me no mind."

Walking over in a pitiful manner to the Gryffindor table, Harry noticed the table was filled with chicken and ham and beef and assorted vegetables and gave out a heavy sigh. "I guess that means that there wasn't any cold gruel or dirty water for me today. Oh well, maybe tomorrow I'll be get to eat." Then turning, Harry walked out of the hall.

x-x-x-x-x

Once out of the Great Hall, Harry made his way down the stairs towards the painting of the fruit bowl. He could hear people talking back in the Great Hall about his performance. He wondered if they thought him insane or saw through his performance for what it was.

Before Harry had come down from Gryffindor Tower, he had sent Eppy down to enlist Dobby's help and prepare him a veritable banquet of food for his lunch. He had no intention of actually going hungry, but the idea of making all of those betraying idiots think so was a different thing all together. When Harry stepped into the kitchens he immediately collided with a small object running at him.

"Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Dobby is knowing you is coming back to us."

Smiling at the house elf, Harry said, "Hello Dobby, it's good to see you too. I've missed you."

Dobby's lip trembled and he cried out, "Harry Potter is so noble and gracious to say he is missing Dobby."

"You is stopping that now," Eppy yelled and he yanked Dobby away from Harry. "You is crying on Master Harry and getting his robes all clean. He isn't wanting that. Master Harry is wanting to shame his betrayers."

"Dobby is being sorry Harry Potter."

"It's alright Dobby," Harry said sincerely. "A few drops of water couldn't get these rags clean."

"Is you wanting your food now, Master Harry?" Eppy asked.

"Yes, please."

x-x-x-x-x

After finishing his lunch, Harry headed up to his Transfiguration class. He was going to have all kinds of fun in there today.

When he arrived in the class, he noticed that it was almost full. He spied Ron and Hermione near the font and they both beckoned him to come and sit with them. Instead he ignored them and began to head to the very back of the classroom where there were almost always empty seats and he could be alone.

Then Harry realized something and he stopped in mid stride. 'These are seventh year students; I was supposed to be with the sixth years. Son-of-a-bi…' Harry thought as he turned and started to leave the classroom. However, Professor McGonagall cut him off.

"Where do you think you are going Potter?"

"I think I'm in the wrong class professor. I was supposed to be placed with the sixth years, as I am now a sixth year student."

"No, you are in the correct class. I am going to be teaching you sixth year work while you take class with your friends," McGonagall said in a pleasant manner. "However, you will be wearing your uniform in future. So I want you to get rid of those rags and dress properly." Then the teacher turned and headed towards her desk for the beginning of class.

Harry smirked at her and said plainly, "As you wish."

Then he began to peal off his prison robes, revealing that he was wearing nothing underneath. He wasn't stupid; he knew someone would order him to take those rags off eventually and what better way to embarrass them further and being naked underneath. Before he was sent to Azkaban, Harry had rarely allowed his dorm mates to see him undressed, BUT after one year, three months, two weeks, four days, seven hours, thirteen minutes and twenty six seconds of walking every street in hell, you kind of loose that "Don't look at my pee-pee" shyness.

Several students began to whistle at Harry as he pulled his dirty rags off. Hermione actually hid her eyes behind her hands, but secretly peaked anyway as she saw that Harry was so skinny and underfed that his ribs could actually be seen through his skin.

Professor McGonagall wondered what had caused the commotion and turned and saw an almost naked Harry standing in her classroom.

"POTTER! What are you doing?"

"Taking off my rags like you just said to, professor," Harry said innocently.

"I didn't mean for you to do it in front of the entire school," she scolded. "Put those… things," she said distastefully, "back on this instant."

"As you wish," Harry replied as he pulled his robes back on. "Of course you know public nudity is a serious offense of the school rules. Don't you think I should be expelled for that?"

"Take your seat Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said wearily.

"But professor …" Harry whined.

"Potter! Seat! Now!" McGonagall barked and Harry made his way to the back of the classroom.

Harry hung his head for effect and muttered loudly, "Some way to get me to forgive you, yelling at me in front of everyone for asking a simple question."

The Transfiguration teacher closed her eyes and ignored the comment.

About a half an hour later in the class period, McGonagall had set the seventh years onto their work while she went to the back to privately instruct Harry in his sixth year lessons.

"Now, Potter, I would like to review what you remember from fifth year. Please transfigure that mouse into a cockatoo."

"I can't," replied Harry.

"How do you know unless you try," she snapped impatiently. "At least attempt it."

"I can't attempt it, Professor McGonagall," he replied again.

Sighing, she asks, "Why can't you Harry?"

"Because, I don't have a wand anymore," Harry stated plainly so that everyone in the classroom could hear him clearly.

It had the desired effect as every head in the classroom turned to look at him. Ron and Hermione looked horrified and worried while Draco Malfoy looked like Christmas had come a few weeks early for him.

"Why don't you have one?" the teacher asked.

"Well, I assumed that Professor Dumbledore kept my old one and so I didn't buy a new one. When he didn't hand on back to me when I came back to school that left me with none to use. So I have no wand."

"I need to have a long talk with Albus," she muttered as she held her head in her hands.

To Be Continued … Please Read and Review