Blackout
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Recommended Reads: Damaged Raven, Dark Lord Potter and Apex by JustBored21, Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, The Downward Spiral Saga by BolshevikMuppet99, Harry Potter and The Ashes of Chaos and Harry Potter and the Perversion of Purity by ACI100, The Dark Lord Peverell-Slytherin (Rewrite) by Ares Peverell-Slytherin, Circular Reasoning by Swimdraconian, Blood Crest by Cauchy, Darkly Dreaming Harry by Lineape, Worthy of Magic by Raul Fictitious, Path to Power by sirius009 and A Darker Shade of Magic by TheSonofTartarus77
Key Pairing: Harry/Lavender/Tonks
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
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"Well, first things first, he probably shouldn't have said I was a hero," said Harry, shrugging ruefully as he scratched at the scar on his eye before he added, "I mean, I might be wearing robes, but I don't see tights and a big letter S, so I'm not a hero and I never will be."
"Is that all?"
"Of course not, McGormless," said Harry, putting an arm around Lavender, who cuddled into his side with a mixture of relief and dark liking, even as Harry smiled wolfishly at the Head of Gryffindor, who paled in horror as he went on.
"His second, and fatal…or would have been fatal if not for the old codger here, but I digress: his second mistake was insulting my girl; oh, but if your plan now involves sending us to Azkaban, Professor, then, by all means, go right ahead: compared to this place, it sounds like a holiday."
BOOK 2: Welcome To My Nightmare!
Chapter 7: Five, Six, So Desperately Thick!
It was only the first night at Hogwarts and, already, Albus Dumbledore was in a quandary concerning the future, as well as the potential fate of one particular student in his so-called care.
First-year Gryffindor, Harry James Potter: a boy whom he now understood – perhaps too little, too late – was exactly what he had seen the first time they'd met: namely the same, bona fide, genuine ruthless, merciless, broken-spirited youth that he'd met in that strange Muggle residence.
At the same time, it was actually hard, if not borderline-impossible for the old man to even think that this was Harry James Potter.
After all, in the first day alone, Albus had seen absolutely nothing that would have suggested he was Lily and James' child: not James' fun-loving, light-hearted humour, much less his way of targeting others with pranks.
On top of that, the Headmaster also saw little to nothing of Lily's light-hearted soul and neutrality towards all things, or her eager spirit that yearned to understand the world and follow in the footsteps of greatness, like those paved out by Albus Dumbledore himself.
In fact, the only one Harry did show any sort of light around was the equally-broken-minded, if not borderline-insane little girl whom he always seemed to be eager to keep at his side, his fellow first-year Gryffindor, Miss Lavender Brown. Now she was someone Albus had to concede, after witnessing what had happened outside Gryffindor Tower, was only kept in a state of mind that might be called tame because Harry was there.
Similarly, Harry had shown he was perfectly-willing, if not horrifyingly-happy and pleased to openly, and without due care or thought for their name, rank or station, threaten, hurt, emotionally-traumatise, physically-dismember and, Merlin forbid, he would possibly even kill anyone who so much as looked at this girl wrong.
In the case of Percy Weasley, Harry didn't even care if you were someone in authority or with the means of making things worse for him.
The only thing he cared about was the idea that, if you made a target of Miss Brown, in any way whatsoever, and you were screwed seven ways from Sunday, as the Muggles said.
Even worse, judging by how she stayed obsessively, if not desiringly-and-worshipfully-loyally-close to Harry, it was obvious to Albus that this same girl seemed to be the only thing that kept the sleeping dragon inside Harry tucked up in its den. Without her, all Hell broke loose and the real Harry came out without much care for who, what, where, when or why he was doing whatever he was doing when the beast was unleashed.
A fact that Albus had seen proven when he'd found Severus, lying in a bloody, but, thankfully alive, heap in his office, his body twitching from what looked like the Cruciatus Curse, but, when Poppy had examined him, Albus had discovered that Harry had electrocuted Severus, at a level that only certain powerfully-destructive thunderstorms, or the full wrath of a thunderbird, may be able to match.
With such a horrifying revelation in his mind, Albus had to wonder what he was meant to do about the real Demon of Gryffindor that was supposed to be the nation's hero.
If he expelled the Brown girl, citing her assault on Percy for a just cause to see justice done, Albus didn't need premonitions to know that he would be risking the health and safety of everyone else in Hogwarts since, without his anchor, Harry's wrath, his psychotic mindset and his demonic nature and lack of care on whether you lived or died – just as long as you were out of his way – would be free to roam the halls and nobody would be safe, not even the staff – as Severus' condition proved.
On the other hand, if he expelled Harry, he not only risked the fallout from Fudge and the hero-worshippers in the Ministry who currently believed that Harry was the beacon of hope for the future, but, with no more restraints wrapped around him, Harry would, again, be free to unleash his darkness on the vulnerable world, not to mention how little he might care if and when Tom returned.
And that just couldn't happen: Harry had to care about Tom still being alive.
How else was he supposed to die at the right time, as the prophecy stated was Harry's eventual destiny?
For the Greater Good, obviously, but that time wasn't yet; no, Albus knew when things had to come to a head and they weren't for some years yet.
Even so, if Harry was meant to have such a future, how could Albus ensure this and keep the peace within his own school?
Blackout
Not to Harry's surprise, when he opened his eyes on his first real morning at Hogwarts, he was the only boy currently in the Gryffindor Dormitory, while his dormmates, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and even his new plaything – sorry, play-mate – Ronald Weasley had already gotten out of bed and seemed content to let him sleep.
However, while Harry might have been the only boy in the Dormitory, he wasn't the only person, as the welcomingly-familiar – well, to him, it was such – warmth, which nuzzled his chest indicated, prompting a small smile to cross his face before, looking down, he fingered the mess of brown hair he saw lying there.
"Sleep well, Lavender?"
"Now I'm back where I love, I did," agreed the young girl, lifting her head from Harry's chest before she cocked her head to one side as she looked up at her beloved before she asked, "Do you think we can get through our first day in peace, Harry?"
"No," said Harry in a surprisingly-quick, matter-of-fact voice, lifting himself up from his laid down position before he sighed softly, "Even though McGroaner decided she had no alternative, but to let us stay here for the night, I imagine she's been making loads of one-sided, benefits-no-one-but-them plans with the old coot and his cheerleaders! All in a bid to try and get us away from the rest of these narrow-minded, overcompensating idiots. Meanwhile, I'd bet my wand and every ounce of my wealth that Mr Lightning Rod, aka Professor Snoopy Snape, isn't going to let my little shock therapy session go quite so easily…and then we have to consider the, frankly, unfortunate way that Percy Weasley is still breathing our air. Given how big a stick he's got shoved up his colon and into his duodenum, something tells me he's going to make sure we pay for that too."
"So…" asked Lavender, tracing her fingers along her beloved's bare chest, earning a soft, humoured smile from Harry as she asked in a sweet, but scary voice, "Can I kill someone today, my love?"
"Sorry, my sweet, but no," said Harry, pressing one hand over Lavender's tickling fingers, before he stretched up high with his other hand; once he lowered it again, he scratched at his lightning-bolt scar while he explained, "Or rather…not yet. After all, as much fun as we're having terrorising the flock, I don't need to remind you of Rule Two, do I?"
"Death should be a release, not a punishment," said Lavender automatically, earning a nod and a proud smile from Harry before, as the young girl watched, she saw Harry rise from his bed. Standing next to the bed, he stretched up high once again before he doubled over, stretching out the tensions in his back and his arms – and giving Lavender a very nice view of his butt sticking out from his boxer shorts, she didn't hesitate to add.
Once he was done stretching and waking himself up, the young Gryffindor cleared his throat before he scratched at his head as he looked around in apparent bemusement. "Now…what am I forgetting? Oh yeah: Hela!"
To Lavender's surprise, what could only be described as a burst of ice-cold darkness suddenly filled the room, accompanied by a whisper of eerie, shadowy energy, which seemed to respond to Harry's summoning.
When it faded, the girl stared in disbelief, awe and wonder as she saw a black-feathered bird, which, as far as Lavender was concerned, could only be described as one of the most-beautiful creatures she'd ever seen – second-only to her Harry, naturally – appear from out of the darkness, before it proceeded to land on her beloved's right shoulder.
As well as its sleek, liquid-like black feathers, which shone like black metal mixed with the world's most-beautiful feathering, the bird had eyes that were as green as Harry's, filled with the same dark gleam and even holding the same cold, unforgiving glare as his.
As the bird nipped at Harry's ear, Lavender gulped before she asked, "Harry…where…who…what…"
"Her name is Hela and she's my familiar," said Harry, stroking the feathered breast of this beautiful creature, who seemed to take the same amount of joy and delight in his touch as Lavender herself, while he explained, "She chose me when I came into my own and, apart from more-personal reasons, she's the only reason I'm really here at this boring place in the first place."
"Blimey!" gasped Lavender, walking towards Harry before she reached up and petted the bird, earning a low, almost-ghostly-sounding trill-like sound from the bird, as Lavender gasped out, "She's beautiful…and so unique; is…is she a phoenix?"
"No, she's…heh…actually, I don't know what she is," admitted Harry, smiling as he saw his companion, Hela, spread her wings in enjoyment of the attention she was receiving from Lavender, while Harry went on, "All I know is that she came from within the wand that Albus I'm-a-big-old-bastard-with-an-ego-bigger-than-all-of-Hell-and-half-of-Texas Dumbledore used to own: when she emerged, she bonded with me and…I don't know what it was, exactly, but something about her just clicked with me. When it did, she advised me that coming here and putting up with these weirdoes was for the best, if only for my own sake."
"So, in other words, she's who I have to thank for being reunited with you, my raven, and getting to have all this fun?"
"Precisely," said Harry, looking from Hela to Lavender as he added, "But you can thank her later; for now, hurry up and get dressed. I'm hungry."
As was always the case with her obeying his wishes, Lavender didn't need telling twice.
Blackout
For the second meal in a row, the majority of Gryffindor House seemed content to give Harry and Lavender as much room as possible, by sitting as far away from the two savagely-minded, wild-black-maned, bloodstained-clawed lions as they could possibly be without abandoning their table.
To Harry's surprise, however, the only ones who seemed even half-willing to sit near him and Lavender, if not maybe a seat or two away from them at most, were his new toy, Ron Weasley, as well as a chubby-faced cry-baby of a boy whom he dimly remembered was named Neville Longbottom and, to Harry's surprise, Fred and George Weasley, both of whom seemed to shadow their youngest brother as though they feared Harry might do something to him.
As for Neville, he seemed courteous enough to give the two a nod as they took their seats, though neither of them returned it.
Instead, Harry took his seat, as did Lavender – practically cuddling against him and tending to Hela's feathers as she sat next to her beloved – the two of them were cut off from helping themselves to some breakfast when a familiar annoying voice yelled, "WHAT IS THAT?"
"Do you know something? That's really funny, because I was just about to say the same thing about you, Scarface," drawled Harry, plucking a sausage from the plates in front of them before he gave it to Hela, who began swallowing it whole, as though she was downing a particularly fat and juicy worm, much to the awe and unease of a few other students.
While the brunette who'd decided to stick her oar in again, and not get the message Harry was perfectly-willing to give her just last night, fumed at his cavalier response, Harry heard his pet clear his throat awkwardly before he addressed Harry in a civil tone.
"Um, you know…no offence, Harry. I mean, I really hate to agree with Granger," added Ron, earning a curious look from Harry as the redhead indicated the bird on Harry's shoulder, "But what…I mean who is that, Harry? I…I don't think I've ever seen a bird like her before."
"That's because she's beautiful, unique and one of a kind, just like her master," replied Lavender, earning a kiss to her temples from Harry, whilst Lavender offered a bit more meat to Hela before she added, "But, if you must know, Weasley, her name's Hela, aka the Nordic Goddess of Death, and she's my Harry's familiar."
"Familiar?" asked Neville, speaking to Harry for the first time since he'd met the boy, much to Harry's ire, even as he looked up at Harry, as well as Lavender and Hela as he asked, "You…you have a familiar, do you, Harry?"
"Um…isn't that what Lavender just said, Longbottom?" asked Harry coolly, stroking Hela's feathers while he scowled at the shy boy, "Also, just for future reference and I've got more important things, like my empty belly, to think about, I'll give you a free pass and a bit of advice: it's not Harry. It's Mr Potter to you and yours: just because I'm forced to share a dorm with the likes of a simpering weakling of a cry-baby like you, it doesn't mean we're automatically going to be bestie-best-friends."
Neville looked alarmed at this prospect, or maybe he was trying not to wet himself as Harry glared at him with the same look in his eyes that had been there when he'd held Percy Weasley's life in his hands.
Either way, he managed to stammer out his next words, but barely.
"But…but our parents…"
"Aren't here, yes, I know, thank you for reminding me, toad-boy," said Harry in a matter-of-fact tone, though the sarcasm when he thanked Neville was more than obvious.
While Neville looked more than a little put-out by how little Harry cared about their shared pasts, Harry turned to Lavender with a disgruntled look in his eyes as he asked, "Okay, seriously, my Harley: what is it about either seeing my rather-fetching scar or thinking that just because their families knew mine, it automatically gives these freaks the right to say we're besties, Lavender?"
"What can I say? Wizards are idiots…uh, present company excluded, of course, my Harry," said Lavender, petting Harry's hand in a way that showed him how she meant he was the present company excluded from her remark about the rest of the idiots in the world.
"Excuse me!" snarled Granger, earning a bored look from Harry – who also tightened his grip on Lavender as his girl had suddenly grabbed a knife and was glaring at Granger like she wanted to rip her nose off with her teeth – as she asked, "But I believe you were explaining to me, how it is that you have a dangerous creature who is against the rules about owls, cats and toads…"
"Before you finish that, frankly, long-winded, probably-rehearsed and, definitely-boring lecture, Miss Granger, tell me: how's your brand this morning? Cause, if you ask me, it looks like it could use a top up!" hissed Harry, sparking up his fingers as though emphasising his point, earning a horrified look from the still-burned brunette while Harry continued in a cold, emotionless voice. "And before you go wasting any more of my oxygen claiming how you think the noble Professor Dumbledore and McGilligan's Island will protect you from what I might have planned? Do yourself a favour and kindly remember what I did to the last ignorant prick who got on my nerves…and, when I did it, your saviours were standing right there watching me do it, in case you forgot!"
"How…how…how are you still here?" asked Granger, earning a cold smile from Harry as she added, "If you were at a Muggle school…"
"I'd have torched the place to the ground and locked all the freaks, spasmoids and losers inside to burn like the marshmallows they are!" insisted Harry, earning more than a few horrified, if not disbelieving looks from those who heard him.
However, the moment was made worse when Lavender swooned before she kissed Harry's cheek, "That sure brings back some delicious memories, Puddin'; thanks for giving me some sweet dreams tonight."
"Anytime, my sweet," drawled Harry, returning the kiss with one to his girl's forehead, before he turned to Granger, who, like Neville, looked like she was trying hard not to embarrass herself in front of the school – too late – while Harry smirked wolfishly. "Also, just in case you hit your head last night, let me remind you of the bleeding obvious, shall I, Brandy? This isn't one of those dull little matchboxes and bonfires also known as Muggle School, much less a part of the Muggle world, you simple-minded, stupid little girl. Then again, even if it were, apart from expelling me, the worst that'd probably happen is I'd be sent to my uncomfortably-fun space in a nice padded room, where I'd pass the time tossing a tennis ball at the wall because there isn't someone's head or balls for me to throw it at. Who knows? I might even finally get around to mastering the harmonica."
"What do you think this is? The Great Escape?" asked Granger, earning a slow shake of the head from Harry.
"No, because unlike that classic, I don't want to escape: why would I? I'm having way too much fun, what with making everyone else's life as hellish as possible…which reminds me; since you do want a new tattoo…"
To his amusement, as well as most of the Great Hall, the brunette fled from the hall like a bat out of hell, leaving Harry to return to his meal while he added, "Now, if it's not too much trouble, can I please get back to the important stuff? You know, like taming the monster in my belly?"
"Of course, my love, open up," said Lavender, earning a small smile from Harry as he went to open his mouth while his beloved fed him his meal.
Before the food passed his lips, however, Harry's mood soured again.
And all it took were two words.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Even Harry violently flinched at the way-too-loud voice that suddenly filled the Great Hall, just as he saw Ron, Fred and George duck under the table while, when Harry turned to the source of the scream, he saw a disgusting-looking redheaded lady with a blood-red-coloured face and eyes that screamed bloody murder – but then again, so did her voice.
To the disbelief of many of the students, including Harry and Lavender, the redhead was actually dressed in a frilly apron that covered a set of clothes that blatantly screamed housewife while, to Harry's curiosity, the woman was even brandishing what looked like a ladle, which she actually pointed at Harry as though he was meant to be scared shitless of it – which, judging from their ducked-down reactions to this nutter's presence, Harry and Lavender could only assume the Weasleys were.
Curiously, their reactions also gave Harry a good idea who this weirdo was, though before he could say how much he honestly pitied his pet and the brothers of his pet, the weirdo spoke – read: yelled loud enough for all of New York State and probably most of the East Coast to hear – again.
"EXPLAIN YOURSELF NOW, YOUNG MAN!"
"Oh, look, Lavender; this place has kitchen staff, after all," drawled Harry, turning to the High Table where, to his annoyance, he saw Dumbledore looking like Christmas had come early, while McGonagall and, more or less, everyone else on the High Table looked horrified at the sight of the maternal woman standing there.
It didn't take long for the penny to drop, at least for Harry, as to who this loud shrieking mad woman was and why she was there, but, instead of looking annoyed, Harry just chuckled softly before, to the shock of the three Weasleys, he rose from his seat and, to the shock of the rest of the hall, he actually began to applaud loudly.
"Wow…bravo! Seriously, bra-vo, Headmaster…or was this your doing, McGuillotine? Either way, I tip my hat to you: well done, nice touch…I admit, I've never had this happen because I've taught someone what happens when you fuck with the wrong people."
"You watch your language when speaking to the Headmaster, you ignorant child!"
"Excuse me, but can someone tell me why the housemaid is talking?" asked Harry, moving away from the Gryffindor Table before he looked to said housemaid as he asked, "So…by process of elimination, or balance of probably as a wise man once said, I'd assume you're the woman who turned Mr Bungee Jump Without The Cord into the prick he is, are you? And, again, just a theory, but let me guess, after giving him a lesson he won't soon forget about what respect looks like to those who don't give a flying fuck about…"
"Scourgify!"
To Harry's disbelief, not to mention roughly forty percent of the Hall's occupants, a stream of semi-translucent bubbles suddenly flew towards him, though not before he sparked up, surrounding his body in white lightning, which seemed to pop the bubbles, much to the redhead's alarm, while Harry sneered as he scoffed incredulously.
"I'm sorry, but did you actually…I mean, seriously…did you just try and attack me with…with…bubbles?"
"You won't stop cursing, so I'll wash your mouth out with soap, you rude boy!"
"Yeah, but…come on…again: you…your response is…is to…to attack me with bubbles?" asked Harry, the air of disbelief in his voice growing, while, every time he said bubbles, he almost seemed to be laughing at the absurdity, while the one who'd attacked him – with bubbles – looked like she was going to blow her top as her face got redder and redder, the more Harry mocked and insulted her.
"I mean," laughed Harry, waving off the redhead's apparently-growing ire as he exclaimed, "Seriously: a Silencing Charm, an Oscausi Hex; even a curse that might fuse my jaws together, even my tongue, palate and, possibly, even my throat…but…no…bubbles?"
Shaking his head in self-amusement, Harry turned to the High Table before he asked, "So, just out of curiosity, do you allow every parent to waltz in here like they own the place and start attacking students with…with…bubbles, Dumbledore?"
"That's Professor Dumbledore, you ungrateful little brat!"
"Okay, how about we stop with the rude comments coming from the peanut gallery?" asked Harry, looking back to the woman he'd identified as Percy, Ron, Fred and George's Mother, Mrs Weasley, while he added, "Since you're not listening to anyone, but the echo of your own voice, you banshee bitch, let me make it simple for you: go on, now go, walk out the door, just turn around now, cause you're not welcome anymore…"
"Weren't you the one who'd try to hurt with me with goodbye?" asked, or rather, sang Lavender, earning a laugh from Harry as he saw how at least one person got the joke, while Lavender found herself pulled into Harry's embrace as the two started dancing, all the while, they kept singing their unusual and yet so well-known – well, to the Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, it probably was – song.
"Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I: I will survive…"
"SHUT UP, YOU CRAZY BITCH!"
And, just like that, all thanks to a delusional, interfering busybody that really didn't have any rights being there, dead silence filled the Great Hall, earning more frightened looks from the Weasley Trio while Harry craned his neck, clicking his joints as he snapped his head around to Molly, his green eyes shining with dark intentions.
"Oh yes…I will survive…but tell me…Mrs Weasley…will you?"
"Harry, NO!"
Before Dumbledore had a chance to intervene, Harry went full lightning, using his power in a way that reminded many of a certain Dark Lord from a well-known sci-fi franchise. This time, however, bolts of black lightning flew from Harry's hands, striking Mrs Weasley hard and fast, earning more than a fair few screams from the redhead as she flew across the Hall, while her body lit up like Times Square from the electricity.
"SOMEONE STOP HIM!" Roared one of the Hufflepuffs, earning more cries of outrage and disbelief from the students.
When a series of red flashes flew from the staff table, however, the aforementioned staff were left speechless when, instead of being stunned and knocked out, Harry's body seemed to absorb the flashes, turning his black lightning an eerie, evil shade of red while Harry increased his power, earning louder, more-terrified screams from Mrs Weasley as she writhed in torment.
"POTTER, ENOUGH! STOP THIS!"
"No!" growled Harry, pointing at the staff table while the other hand kept up his onslaught as he growled at Dumbledore, "You let this vile creature come here and think she could make me bare my throat, Dumbledore! You and your thick-as-pig-shit Deputy let this thing think she could act as though she's someone I'd choose to replace the honour, memory and legacy of a dead woman? Well, congratulations, Captain Useless, because thanks to your poorer-than-piss-poor attempt to undermine and manipulate me, the one thing I promise you now is that, before this feast is done, she will be a dead woman!"
"Harry…"
Suddenly, even Dumbledore looked shocked when he saw Professor Quirrell step forwards, earning a curious look from Harry while the Defence Professor held up his hands as he told the boy, "L-l-let it g-g-g-go…she…she's n-n-n-not w-w-w-worth it. W-W-W-What i-i-i-is it you b-b-believe?"
"He…he's right, my raven," agreed Lavender, while Hela flew to Harry's shoulder and let out the same ghostly trill as before, earning more shocked, awed, but still-alarmed looks from staff and students alike, as Lavender asked, "Rule Two, remember?"
To the disbelief of the rest of the hall, Harry's lightning assault lessened, leaving Molly's body burned and more than a little bloody, thanks to the blood oozing from her ears, her nose and mouth from screaming so loud, while Harry smiled thinly. "Death should be a release, not a punishment."
"Ex-ex-exactly," stammered Quirrell, though, when Harry looked to the Professor, he saw Quirrell nod, as though encouraging Harry to play along, while he told his young student, "A-A-And besides, if…if y-y-y-you k-k-k-kill her…you…you'll o-o-only find yourself sent t-t-to A-A-A-Azkaban and y-y-y-you will n-n-n-never get a c-c-c-chance to be the b-b-b-best sorcerer y-y-y-y-you can be."
"I suppose that's true," agreed Harry, rubbing the bridge of his nose before he looked past Quirrell to Dumbledore as he added, "But take note, old man: this is the last time I show any mercy to your pathetic flock. Anyone comes after me and mine, all bets are off…which reminds me, I notice Snape's not at the table this morning. I do hope he hasn't been hurt too badly!"
Even the Slytherins were left speechless by the fact that they now realised why their Head of House wasn't there.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, turned to McGonagall as he told her, "Minerva, would you and Hagrid kindly take Mrs Weasley to the Hospital Wing? I think she is going to need medical treatment."
"And I'm going to need a lawyer," drawled Harry, looking to Quirrell with a hard, firm stare that seemed to drill through Quirrell's skull.
"I don't suppose you'd be able to recommend someone to help defend me, could you, Professor?"
Blackout
"Where's a tennis ball when we need it?"
As much as she agreed with her beloved's remark, Lavender still laughed as the two of them sat alone in the Headmaster's Office, while they waited for Albus Dumbledore and the rest of his sheep to make their calls and retrieve the aid of the so-called authorities. Then again, after nearly killing a nuisance whose voice still rang in his ears as he waited in the otherwise-quiet office, Harry shouldn't really be surprised, and he wasn't.
Of course, nobody, but Harry and Lavender knew that Harry was retrieving some aid of his own, thanks to Professor Quirrell.
And yet, Harry wondered exactly who the not-stammering Professor with the dark streak as long as Harry's own would bring to the table to defend Harry and ensure things went as he wanted them to.
In the meantime, Harry drummed his fingers impatiently on Dumbledore's desk as he mused, "Here we are in lockdown and they don't even give us something to pass the time. I thought Agatha was a no-brained bint, but this lot make her seem like a genius."
"How is old Aggie anyway?" asked Lavender, watching as Harry rose up from his seat and began walking around the room, while Lavender asked him, "Did you give her daughter the release yet?"
"Nope."
"Did you give them a hint on how to bring her out of the coma?"
"And spoil my fun? Why would I ever do something so boring, Lavender?"
"So, she's still suffering?"
"Yep," drawled Harry, stopping next to a cabinet that was filled with an array of mysterious instruments, while he added, "And so is Aggie, but I digress: have you seen this collection, Lavender? The guy makes ravens seem sane with their shiny-things-obsessions!"
"Magpies, my love."
"Huh?" asked Harry, running a hand over the door of the cabinet as he searched for the means to open the cabinet.
"You mean magpies," said Lavender, smiling as she saw Harry search for the means to invade the old bastard's privacy as the aforementioned old King of Freaks seemed intent on letting his sheep do to her Harry. "They're the ones that like shiny things."
"Oh," said Harry, before he smiled when he heard a click, "So, what do ravens like?"
"Carrion."
"I think I shall," laughed Harry, opening the cabinet before he picked up the first object, which seemed to be made of crystal, "Aww, how sweet! How well-formed…and how…whoops."
To Lavender's amusement, Harry's lightning suddenly caused the crystal object in his hands to explode, earning a soft giggle from Lavender as she asked, "How delicate?"
"I was going to say expensive, but yeah," said Harry, letting the shards fall to the floor before he scoffed, "Seriously, not even an enchantment to keep wandering hands out: this guy would be a klepto's idea of nirvana, you know?"
"You should put those pieces back soon, young man."
"Who said that?" asked Harry, turning to face the room, but the only thing he saw was Lavender, as well as the desk, a red-feathered bird on the far side of said desk and the Sorting Hat, the sight of which made Harry scoff as he asked, "I'm sorry, you old dust-cloth: did you actually just try and tell me what to do? Didn't you remember why you gave me my wish and sent me to Gryffindor in the first place?"
"It…it wasn't me, Mr Potter," said the hat, nervousness and fear evident in his voice as he added, "It…it was one of them."
His tip gestured upwards as he said the last part, causing Harry's eyes to wander up to the walls above the old man's desk, which allowed him to see a rogues' gallery of differently-looking men and women in portraits looking down at him with judgmental, alarmed and, in a couple of cases, even amused and curious gazes.
"Hmm…let me guess…former Headmasters and Headmistresses," said Harry.
It wasn't a question, though the portraits' occupants still nodded and chorused the positive in their responses, earning a scoff from Harry as he added, "Well, as nice as it is to meet you, I don't think, unless you're alive and members of my family, not to mention accepted by me as such, I suggest you paint a zipper over your mouths and then close it up. After all…"
To the horror of many of the portraits' occupants, Harry's hands lit up with his reddish-black lightning again as he told them, "Your parchments and frames are so flammable or conductive to electricity these days…I'd hate to accidentally misfire my bolts and leave nothing but ashes…"
As many of the occupants retreated into their portraits, Harry adopted a look of feigned realisation.
"Oh wait…no I wouldn't."
Before any of the portraits' occupants could say another word, Harry threw his lightning at the gallery, incinerating wood, golden-metal, as well as the parchments and canvasses that the portraits had been painted onto. To his dark, twisted sense of delight, the portraits' occupants also began screaming in pain, agony and pleading for him to stop, not that he listened.
Instead, once he'd taken out many of the portraits, Harry's eyes wandered over the rest of them as he told them, "Let that be a lesson to you, sirs and madams: don't get in my way and, next time, keep your eyes open and your mouths shut."
"Harry, what have you done?"
"And now, ladies and gents, this is the moment you've been waiting for," drawled Harry, moving away from the cabinet as he took a seat in the golden throne of the Headmaster, much to Lavender's amusement, as she too rose up and moved to stand behind said throne, like a faithful ally shadowing her king, as the two of them saw Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick walk into the room.
With them, Harry found himself looking at a tall, dull-looking redheaded male who seemed somewhere between alarmed and disbelieving at what he was seeing, as well as a stern-faced lady with dark-brown hair and fierce, hazel-coloured eyes, one of which was covered by a monocle, not to mention two other figures, one of whom couldn't have been that much older than Harry himself.
She was a somewhat-attractive young lady with – and Harry had to blink and rub his eyes to check he wasn't seeing things – bubblegum-pink hair and wide, awed, but also alarmed grey eyes that looked at Harry as though she was looking at someone whom was long since dead.
With her was a heavily-scarred man whom had one eye replaced by a prosthetic eye, which whizzed about in its socket as the man stepped into the room with the aid of a large staff and a metallic leg, the sight of which made Harry snort to himself as he could only wonder how the frighteningly-interesting-looking man had lost both his leg and his eye.
Finally, Harry's lips twitched in amused curiosity when he saw a blonde-haired gentleman whom could have been described as an older version of a certain Slytherin he knew and hadn't really gotten involved with, walk into the room before he walked around the desk and, stopping on Harry's other side, the gentleman cocked an eyebrow as he eyed Harry.
"Extraordinary."
"And quite comfortable too," drawled Harry, earning a soft titter from the pink-haired girl, the sound of which made Harry smile, even as he nodded once with a look of realisation, "Oh, you mean I'm extraordinary? Well, I appreciate the compliment, Mr Malfoy."
"You know me, Mr Potter?"
"Not really, but thank you for confirming it," said Harry, straightening himself in the golden throne before he looked back to the small group of other companions as he asked, "So, I'm assuming the redhead is related to that loud-mouthed bitch who, quite frankly, burned way too easily, but what about the rest of you? For example, who is this very interesting-looking gentleman who seems to have more scars than me? I never would have thought that was even remotely-possible, would you, Lavender?"
"Not after everything you went through growing up, my love," agreed Lavender, just as they both heard Dumbledore clear his throat.
"Harry, would you mind leaving my seat? My old bones…"
"Can probably manage a good armchair, Albus, old chap," drawled Harry, indicating the headmaster as he added, "And if you can't find one, then just conjure one: you are a wizard, aren't you?"
Even as Dumbledore resigned himself to doing as Harry suggested, the young wizard snorted in amused liking when a familiar ghostly wail filled the room; as everyone looked up to the rafters of the office, they saw Hela, Harry's familiar, fly down and perch herself on the arm of the throne, where Harry began petting her fondly, even as he cocked his head to one side. "Really? Is that right? Wow…he sounds like a real badass…just a shame that this old fart leashes and collars him…"
"Who are you talking to, Harry?" asked the pink-haired girl, earning a small smile from Harry.
"My familiar, Miss…and thank you for at least showing you know me, even though I don't know you; of course, you can still go ahead and call me whatever you want. Harry, Mr Potter…you can even call me Sexy, or Master, if you prefer…as for me, I think I'll call you…if ever I need a new bed-warmer while my Harley-girl's on vacation."
When he winked at her as he insinuated the last part's meaning, the girl surprised him when her hair turned an embarrassed shade of red, while her cheeks also blushed, earning a raised eyebrow and a low whistle from Harry, "Wow, that's a neat trick."
"Professional, Nymphadora!" growled the man who'd attracted Harry's attention more than any of the others.
As soon as he did so, however, Harry saw the girl's red hair darken in colour while her eyes seemed to harden and glow a furious shade of amber-yellow in their sockets as she hissed, "Don't call me Nymphadora, Mad-Eye!"
"Then how about just Nymph, dear, sweet, yummy-looking, overly-beautiful lady?" asked Harry, earning another blush from the woman with a name she apparently hated, as Harry asked, "You don't mind that name, do you, sweet Nymph? I mean, it is the name of a magical spirit, after all and, with such an amazing gift and those beautiful looks, you may as well have been sent by Hecate herself."
"Harry…" groaned Nymphadora, her whole face now turning red from the way this eleven-year-old boy seemed to be flirting with her.
"Now, now, Harry, play nicely," drawled Lavender, earning a soft smirk from Mr Malfoy, while Lavender looked to the blushing Nymphadora before she added, "Sorry about him, Miss Dora; when he sees someone he likes, he's like a fox that becomes a wolf when he sees a vixen."
"And, to think, I'm only eleven," remarked Harry, earning a look of mutual agreement from Lavender, while the emerald-eyed scion looked back to Dumbledore, "So, I now know the spiritually-enchanting Miss Nymph-How-I-Adore-Her…"
Nymphadora's head seemed to vanish into her robes, as though she was genuinely trying to hide her embarrassment, or perhaps attraction, while Harry jerked his head next to her, "…as well as her boss, Mad-Eye Moody…wow, talk about a bad name. Your parents must really have hated you: I mean, what did the teachers call out? Moody Mad-Eye?"
"This is Alastor Moody, Harry," said Albus, earning a scoff from Harry.
"Meh, it's not as funny as Mad-Eye…but I do know that, you old bastard; my beautiful friend here told me everything I need to know: for example, I also know that's Madame Amelia Bones, the Director of the so-called British Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and this is Arthur Weasley, the poor, unfortunate soul who has to call that overcompensating, batting way-way-way above her average bitch of a banshee his wife and the stick-up-his-own-ass his son…ah well, be proud, sir: you have at least one other decent kid, and two yummy looking souls as twins."
"What do you mean your friend told you about everyone?" asked Minerva suddenly, earning a sigh from Harry.
"Well, McGuinness…ha, McGuinness…that's a fun name, but I digress…well, McGaga, as you know from my explanation to the other loud-mouth who got herself involved in my business, my bird's my familiar and as unique as I am."
"I'll say," added Moody, earning a curious look from Harry, as the deformed man indicated Hela as he told everyone else, "I never thought I would ever see another Gyrphoenix, since they're supposed to be extinct."
"A gyrphoenix?" asked Harry, a note of interest and curiosity in his voice as he asked, "Is that anything like a gyrfalcon?"
"Similar," agreed Moody, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry as the elder man told him, "Just as gyrfalcons are members of the falcon species, gyrphoenixes are a…well, let's call them a bastardised, mutated version of the phoenixes: unlike phoenixes, gyrphoenixes are creatures of death!"
"Death?" asked Lavender, earning an intrigued look from Harry, even as Lavender oohed in interest as she told Moody, "Tell us more, Mad-Eye!"
"Not now," said Mad-Eye, looking back to Harry as he added, "We have more important things to deal with, such as your assault on a student of this school, as well as your willingly-dangerous and with intent to execute, assault on a guest of the school."
"Actually, Mr Moody," said Mr Malfoy, putting his two Knuts in as he explained, "According to testimonies provided by the Headmaster's colleagues and some reliable sources who, for legal reasons, cannot be named or asked to give such evidence…"
"His son," stage-whispered Harry, earning a nod from Lavender as Mr Malfoy – or Lucius, as Harry later learned – continued.
"Mr Potter's so-called assault on the noble Lady Weasley was an act of self-defence and retaliation to an attack from her on a minor whom is also the Last Scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."
"She was washing his mouth out!" exclaimed McGonagall, earning a curious look from Lucius.
"And is that the normal way of Hogwarts to allow such wanton attacks on students who aren't even related to them, or known to them?" asked the blonde, earning a look of mutual agreement from the Nymph-woman, as though she actually agreed and sympathised with Harry's moves, as well as Lucius' argument, even as the blonde indicated Harry before he went on. "Also, when young Mr Potter questioned the fact that such an attack came without argument or cessation or any form of defence from the faculty, whose job it is to protect the students, as I'm sure we all know, he was met with more vileness that then turned on a dear friend of his whom, sources say, is as close to Mr Potter as though she were his betrothed."
"Which she is," said Harry, earning a shocked look from Lavender, which made the young boy smile as he told her, "Sorry, my poison ivy: I was going to see about getting you a ring first before springing it on you, but, ever since I realised I might lose you again, I always made a promise that I'd make you my girl. That way, no-one could take you from me…so…when I found you again here at Hogwarts…"
"Yes, yes, yes, a million times, yes!" squealed Lavender, earning a small smile from the Nymph woman that, even as Lavender hugged Harry close, the emerald-eyed scion also noted a hint of jealousy in the Nymph-woman's eyes that caused her hair to become edged by green highlights.
Embracing Lavender, Harry leaned in close as he whispered, "Play along…but I do mean this: it was Hela who told me that announcing you my betrothed would protect you…and since Old Man Melted-Winter wants me here…well, you can't have Jekyll without Hyde."
"I don't care your reasons, my love," argued Lavender, placing a soft kiss on Harry's cheek as she whispered, "I will be yours, gladly."
"That's my girl," agreed Harry, parting from Lavender, who seemed content to sit in Harry's lap, much to Nymphadora's amusement and mild envy, as Harry looked to Lucius before he added, "Sorry about the PDA, Mr Malfoy, but, as I told this lot, my Lavender and I grew up together where the only ones we could trust and rely on were each other. What else could I do for such a loyal companion, but offer to make her mine come the day?"
"No apologies, necessary, Mr Potter," agreed Lucius, nodding once as he told Harry, "And may I be the first to congratulate you on your betrothal: now, as such, it would seem your defence of Miss Brown's honour is justified as, being her betrothed, it falls to you to avenge all slurs against her."
"But it wasn't even a magical one!"
"A slur is a slur and, much like my not-so-dearly-departed Auntie, a horse is a horse, of course, of course," said Harry, looking to Minerva as he added, "Just be glad that electrocuting the banshee was all I did, McGrim; were we around some more-dangerous-minded friends of mine, she'd be hung, drawn and quartered, tortured seven ways from Sunday and left to dehydrate in a room with no water and direct sunlight exposure."
"Just for insulting your betrothed?" gasped the redheaded gentleman, earning a scoff from Harry.
"Of course not, sir…that crime would warrant her imprisonment, both before and after being tortured, broken and strung up like the frilly-dress-wearing sow she is; also, it kind of helps that, among my friends, I'm basically the equivalent of like how Lord Voldemort might treat a favoured son."
While everyone flinched at the name – save Harry, Lavender and Dumbledore – Lucius smirked amusingly when he heard Nymphadora address Harry, "What sort of life were you raised in, Harry?"
"The kind where I learned a valuable lesson about myself, lovely Nymph," said Harry, earning another blush from Nymphadora as he explained, "Be all you can be, whatever the cost and no matter the thoughts of others: anyone who doesn't like it, make them remember you. Any that continue to be a pain…well, that's when you'd need chains, swords and the right to release them from this life, once you've made them suffer, made them beg for death…then, you grant their wish!"
"Sweet Merlin!" gasped Mr Weasley, a note of horror in his voice as he asked, "What…what on Earth happened to you, Harry?"
"Unless you want to find out firsthand, Mr Weasley, stop using my name as though we're friends," hissed Harry, earning an alarmed look from Mr Weasley, while Harry straightened himself in his throne as he went on. "Now, since we seem to be reaching the end of this intervention, and my counsel, Mr Malfoy, has given you a pretty strong case, I'd say we're done here. So, if you'll excuse me, Lavender and I have got so-called lessons to go to, power to gain, idiots to punish and, oh yes, deaths to try and give me a reason to cause when I release them from this life, so…ciao."
"I…I'm afraid we are not done, Mr…Mr Potter," gasped Amelia, speaking for the first time since walking into the room.
With how pale her face had gone as Harry argued his case and Lucius painted the image of self-defence that he was known for doing whenever a friend of his was put in the spotlight – though the question of why he felt compelled to defend Harry Potter was one that both alarmed and unnerved her – she seemed reluctant to continue, as she addressed the boy directly.
"As…as this is…is your third offence attacking a member of Hogwarts, after…after the attacks on Percy Weasley and Professor Severus Snape…"
"Both of which were perfectly-justified, Director," argued Harry, shrugging ruefully as he remarked, "One annoyed me because he wanted me to be someone I wasn't, namely my dead Father, and another made the mistake of insulting my betrothed."
"You could have killed him by dropping him off the end of the Grand Staircase!"
"Ah, but I didn't, because I knew, if not would have been horrified if Albus had allowed his sheep to be butchered, sheared and defrocked this early in the game," argued Harry, snorting in amusement as he added, "Honestly, I'm broken and scarred, as insane as the deliciously-dark-and-devilish-sounding lady Bellatrix Lestrange! She sounds like a real hottie!"
"Harry! Do you know what you're saying?"
"Maybe, maybe not," said Harry, ignoring the horrified looks all round – save for Lucius and, surprisingly, Nymphadora – as he shrugged ruefully before he continued, "Either way, I knew what I was doing and, besides, doing what I did to Mr Weasley paid off."
"How?"
"It showed everyone what happens if you get in my way," said Harry, sniffing once before he looked to Lavender as he added, "Rule Three."
"What? I don't…oh!" gasped Lavender, smiling, as though the Knut had dropped again, while Harry nodded in agreement.
"Rule Three?" asked Moody, earning a nod from Harry.
"A series of rules…well, I'd more call them guidelines, anyway, but they're a series of terms and conditions made to guide us as we enjoy the relationship between me and my girl: Rule One, as much as she loves being the bottom in our relationship, my Lavender only calls me her Master when I let her. Rule Two: Death should be a release, not a punishment."
"Sweet merciful Morgana!" gasped Filius, earning another nod from Harry, even as the Charms Master asked, "And…Rule Three, Mr Potter?"
"A means of fulfilling our objectives," said Harry, tapping his nose as he smiled wolfishly, "As well as the only real rules I listen to, thanks to how I was raised…and we all know who I have to thank for that, don't we, Albus, my boy?"
While every head, including Malfoy's, turned to look at Dumbledore, Harry held up one hand as he continued in an amused, but also-clear tone;
"There are only four rules you need to remember: make the plan, execute the plan, expect the plan to go off the rails…throw away the plan!"
He held up one finger, as well as his thumb, as he went through his four-rule Rule Three, before he lowered his hand again as he explained, "And, trust me, I did make a plan and execute it, when I came to Hogwarts to make a name for myself and get sorted into Gryffindor House. However, when people constantly decide they have the right to get involved in my life, stick their noses in my business, upset my nearest and dearest and make me out to be someone and something I didn't want to be…well, that was the plan going off the rails."
"So, doing what he did to Percy, Snape, and even the poor, unfortunate Mrs Weasley was him throwing away the plan," finished Lavender, earning a nod from Harry as he looked to a white-faced Dumbledore.
"I told you I was willing to come, which was also my way of saying I was willing to play ball, but, thanks to your sheep and your fucked-up ideals, those plans were scrapped…so, if you want someone to blame for what happened, Director and Mr Weasley, look no further than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!"
"Regardless!" insisted Amelia, earning a shocked look from Harry at how harsh and determined she sounded, even as she continued addressing Harry, "The fact of the matter is you have done this, Mr Potter and, despite your fame, which you yourself have clearly shown us you do not care about, even you cannot get away with what you did."
"Ah…forgot about that," said Harry, looking to Lucius as he added, "Maybe I should have just pleaded the fifth, eh, Mr Malfoy?"
"No, Mr Potter," replied Lucius, folding his arms as he drew himself to his full height, "Because, in lieu of imprisonment or expulsion from school."
"Which, let me guess, he pushed for not happening?" asked Harry, jabbing a thumb at Dumbledore.
"Actually, we all agreed that was not the best course of action for one as young as you in such a…vulnerable condition," argued Lucius, though, when Harry looked up to him, he nodded once, as though encouraging the boy to play along, while he continued, "As such, I not only involved myself as your legal counsel, but also as Chief Operations Officer on the Board of Governors, to come up with what I hope is a suitable alternative, as well as a means of avoiding future conflicts."
"I'm listening," said Harry, folding his arms while he crossed one leg over the other, giving him a powerful, regal sort of look that definitely betrayed the demonic image people claimed he showed.
"You will retain your place as a student of Gryffindor House, both you and Miss Brown," said Lucius, earning a nod from Harry, as the blonde went on. "However, the two of you shall be given new quarters in another part of the school, where, outside of lessons and, for the foreseeable future, you will be given a house-guard, assigned by the Ministry, whom is to ensure no further squabbles, outbursts or incidents occur. To ensure this, this same Auror, and it will be an Auror, will make weekly reports to Director Bones. Then, if you are found to be a character capable of redemption, next year, we shall debate on whether you are to be allowed your privileges back or if you are to be permanently kept under house arrest."
"You see?" asked Harry, surprising everyone, bar Lavender, at how he wasn't even intimidated by the punishment, "Solitary Confinement and Loss of Privileges: now, you're starting to think like my home away from home. Well done, you."
"Potter, be serious!"
"That's funny, I thought my name was Harry," drawled Harry, earning a titter from Lavender while even Nymphadora snorted into her hand, though, when she did so, Harry smiled as he asked, "All right, I agree to that…but on one condition of my own."
"You don't make the rules now, Harry."
"Oh, but it's such a small thing I ask for," argued Harry, a note of disappointment in his voice as he explained, "And besides, you do want me to go back to being a good boy again, don't you, Headmaster? So, you can give just one teeny-tiny, incy-wincy request, can't you?"
"No!" snapped McGonagall.
"I wasn't talking to you, McGoat's-Milk!"
"It's all right, Minerva," replied Amelia, looking to Harry with a stern glare that might have made lesser men cower, but not Harry, even as she told him, "All right, Mr Potter; we will grant your request, whatever it may be, but only if you stop with these insulting nicknames aimed at your teachers."
"Only if they respect me for the student I am and not the one they want me to be, ma'am."
"Agreed."
"Deal."
"Then, what is it you want?"
"Like I said, it's a small thing," said Harry, lifting a finger before he winked in the direction of his request, which made that particular person gasp, even as Harry pointed to them and made his request known.
"My house-guard: I want the lovely Nymph to be responsible for making sure I toe the line and don't kill anyone too quickly…see? Told you it was a small thing."
Chapter 7 and Harry seems to have turned the odds in his favour, but will this apparent-exile actually tame the demon in the Boy-Who-Lived, or will absence do anything but make the heart grow fonder?
Also, what does Harry see in our favourite metamorph that makes his mouth water and, were he a bit older, would probably have him dipping his hands in his boxer shorts for some relief?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry's still hungry…and Nymph is on the menu, with a touch of Lavender for dessert; also, the events of the past few hours means that a change is needed at Hogwarts, but this change also brings a surprise for Harry himself: one that also provides him with something he's sorely missed: fun!
Please Read and Review
AN: Portrayal
Amelia Bones: Helen Slater