As usual, I don't own Harry Potter.

Please let me know what you think, and if you have any decent ideas for other stories, please let me know as long as they're not to be shared. Also, if you don't like what I write, don't read and don't spoil the reading experience for others.

Otherwise, enjoy; I was hoping to post this on Halloween, but with the site playing up I couldn't do so.


The Treasure Hunter.

Albus Dumbledore sighed as he escorted Minerva and Severus and the other two Heads of House into his office for a private consultation - he had already managed to send off a message to Mr Weasley and Miss Granger in secret, ordering them both to come up to his office in the morning since he wasn't in the mood to speak to them tonight, especially as he felt he needed time to think about what he was going to order them to do next since everything tonight had gone wrong so badly.

He was so shocked Harry had made such an inflammatory Magically binding oath in the first place that he wasn't entirely certain about what he should be thinking; he didn't know whether or mentally ask himself if he should even be remotely surprised the boy was no longer taking the harshness of accusation as he had during his second year, although he was truly disappointed with the boy for not only displaying the knowledge needed to ensure everyone accepted he hadn't put his name into the Goblet and endured a whole month of adversity before the First Task. He'd had it all planned out and it would have been so simple; Harry would have been outcast from Gryffindor and would be forced to seek help either from himself or Miss Granger, who would be steering him down the avenues Dumbledore dictated.

It would have helped Harry in the long run in order to become the sacrificial martyr needed to finally bring about an end to Voldemort. At the same time, he wondered to himself how the hell Harry had even located the necessary reading material in order to make such an oath in the first place, although it didn't matter now.

Now it was unviable although he didn't know what Harry was going to do now. The boy was so unpredictable and ever since the article coverage concerning Harry's lack of an upbringing from the Dursleys - he still could not believe it; they had tried to murder him by burning him alive! How could any family do that to their own? - Dumbledore had been trying to think of ways some degree of control could be reestablished. He had ordered Minerva and Severus to not bother the boy, and he had been annoyed particularly with how Minerva had made the whole thing blow up in their faces, but there was nothing he could do about it now besides try to mitigate the worst of it and ensure Harry came to trust him.

Of course, it was easier said than done, and as he sat down behind his desk, Dumbledore had to accept the fact not only did Harry not trust him or the staff, he would need to rethink some of his strategies in order to remain in control of the situation before it spiralled completely out of control.

No, Dumbledore knew he had to have some amount of time to think privately before he spoke to Hermione and Ron and he would need to think twice about giving them any poorly thought through idea for how Harry could be brought back under his control.

"Thank you all for coming," he said quietly while he absently massaged his face from where Harry had punched him. Physical violence was virtually unheard of in the magical world and he was hoping to keep it that way, so it was a surprise for him to be punched like that.

Minerva spotted what he was doing. "You should see Poppy, Albus-."

"No, Minerva," Dumbledore's voice was quiet but firm. "I was punched in the nose by my brother at one point, and the blow was strong enough to damage it permanently. I didn't have it repaired since I felt it was deserved. It's the same for tonight. I shouldn't have grabbed hold of Harry."

"Wait, what happened, and why does it involve Mr Potter?" Fillius asked, looking between Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall curiously.

Dumbledore sighed. "I was embarrassed by the wording of Harry's oath and I lost control, so when I ran into the anteroom where he was, I grabbed him by the shoulders and demanded an explanation. He punched me in the face," he rubbed his cheek, hoping neither Minerva nor Severus were foolish enough to repeat what Harry said since it was bad enough he'd been punched.

"WHAT?!" Sprout and Flitwick cried at once.

"He punched you in the face?" Flitwick demanded.

"He did," Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his face, wondering just where Harry learnt to punch like that before he dismissed it. "However, tomorrow I think it might be best if the students take a day off school. Hear my reasons out before you protest; I want the students to spend their time chatting about the upcoming tournament and spending time with the Champions, but I want to try to speak to Harry before anything else happens."

"Just punish the brat, Headmaster," Severus's inflammatory statement instantly brought about a wave of protesting from the other Heads of House, although he quickly noted they wanted Harry to be punished for the assault. Dumbledore didn't want that to happen. The articles had caused him a great deal of trouble, and the last thing he needed was to be taken into a political nightmare during an international contest.

"ENOUGH! Check your words carefully, Severus. I want to speak to Harry desperately, but he will not be expelled, especially because of your desire to punish everything Potter," Dumbledore looked around the room to the faces of all the Heads of Houses.

"What do you want to speak to him about?" Pomona asked.

It was Filius who guessed the answer. "It's about the oath, isn't it?"

"Partially. Harry Potter is a very important figure in the magical world, and regardless of what some may believe," Dumbledore sent a harsh look towards Severus for emphasis, "and we are better working with him than against him. The attack on my person proves I crossed a line with him, and I have been crossing other lines with him for a long time. I want to try to stop that."

He was only giving the teachers a few half-truths that sounded nice, just like how he had told them he wanted the students to have some time off so then they could have time with their Champions, although it was unlikely Maxime or Karkoroff would go along with the idea, it made no difference since Hogwarts would have its students take single daybreak.

The truth, however, was very different.

Dumbledore wanted to have an easier time having his teachers locate Harry, and bring him up to the office. The boy usually attended breakfasts, however, sometimes he did spend meals with the House-elves.

"Albus, what was it about the oath you didn't like?" Pomona asked curiously.

Dumbledore closed his eyes while his brains raced as he tried to think of a decent answer to a very good question while being aware he would need to bring it up during the meeting he had with Harry. In truth he hadn't really been concerned with the wording of the oath; as he had listened to it, and to Harry's explanation of why he had made it in the first place - the boy had every reason to be frustrated and annoyed by the way the students had turned on him, and Dumbledore knew he could not outright say he had actually wanted the boy to be traumatised by the students to forge the weapon he needed to give him the means to ending Voldemort once and for all.

"I didn't like the way he had insulted Hogwart's honour and how he didn't seem to understand why we need excellent diplomatic relations with our neighbours. The boy needs to know how to respect them."

XXX

Please tell me this isn't going to be one of those days. I hate days like that.

After an admittedly wondrous sleep, since he didn't have to deal with the double chainsaw massacres which came from Neville and Ron's beds, Harry was actually thinking about eating in the kitchens today given how he wasn't in the mood for the rest of the school. At the same time, he was tempted to go anyway, to let them know he had nothing to hide.

He regretted that decision the moment he walked into the Great Hall; the moment he walked in, everyone there, and there weren't that many people in the Hall, to begin with, turned as one and stared at him, some of them whispering to their neighbours while he took a seat and began eating. At the same time, he kept his wand ready in case anyone tried something they would regret. He wasn't going to depend on that oath he had made the night before to protect him from any harm. He had more than enough enemies in the world as it was, and he didn't trust the teachers in Hogwarts to prevent bullying.

If anyone tried anything, he planned to take the law into his own hands.

But besides that Harry had more than enough on his mind, and he had bigger fish to fry. He wanted to know who'd placed his name into the Goblet of Fire, and why. Harry had plans to use the Marauder's Map, check it for anything anomalous. The fact was he hadn't bothered to look since he needed the Map only for when he was sneaking around, and he didn't pay attention to anything else given how large a school Hogwarts was. That was a mistake, and one he planned to rectify quickly.

Harry lifted his head whenever he heard a number of noises in the Hall, and he spotted more than a few students coming into the hall - he noticed the Weasley twins, but he paid them little heed, although he didn't bother acknowledging Angelina's look of annoyance. He knew she'd tried to get into the Tournament, and she knew he had sworn an oath, surely she knew they couldn't be faked or was she just jealous because he was in the Tournament? If she was, it was her problem, not his. There was nothing he could do about his place in the Tournament. The judges had made that clear, and as much as he'd love to leave he couldn't, and truthfully he wasn't close enough to Angelina for it to truly hurt if they lost what relationship they had.

Besides, he was tired of Hogwarts and the never-ending teenage drama, on top of the life and death 'adventures' he'd had; hopefully, by the end of the year, he'd have found a way out of this shithole and into a proper magical school, where the teachers did their jobs instead of standing back and turning a blind eye to the bullying under their noses, and where the Headmaster didn't have some overreaching agenda.

"How about it, Potter? We're just taking bets on how long you'd last in the First Task alone," Malfoy's sneering voice drew Harry's attention, and he looked over his shoulder.

Malfoy was standing behind him with Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, a few other members of his gang. Harry didn't bother answering the posturing little peacock's question, so he turned back to his meal knowing Malfoy was going to hate being ignored…

And he was right.

Malfoy poked him in the back, he actually poked him. "Hey, I'm speaking to you, Potter. Pay attention to your betters!"

Harry knew while it was probably best if he continued to ignore Malfoy, the blond would likely order his minions to turn him around in his seat so he would have no choice but to react. "I told you on the Hogwarts express, you are not my better, Malfoy. Unlike you, I don't give a tinker's toss about that shit. You can parade, prance and strut around this fucking castle all you like, claiming to be richer than everyone else… but you, and this happens to be where everyone like you, fail to realise that for every rich person, there is always somebody richer out there. And it goes on, and on and on. You don't admit it because you can't bear to see your precious family be seen as second or third or even fifth best."

An idea sprang to Harry's mind at that point. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Galleon while at the same time, he nicked a gleaming silver spoon from the table.

"Let me ask you this," he held them out in his hands, "what are these?"

Malfoy was as confused as everybody else who was listening in, he just covered it up with a sneer. "What are you playing at, Potter?"

"I'm asking a simple question. Just answer it; I'll get to the point quickly."

Malfoy was intrigued enough to play along, the sneer on his lips. "You're holding a Galleon and a spoon. Why, were you born with a spoon in your mouth while holding a Galleon?"

It wasn't even funny, but as Malfoy turned to the others, they dutifully laughed. The sight made Harry pity Slytherin house on the whole.

"Wrong, Malfoy. These are just things; when you strip away their value, like how the spoon is designed to help you eat something or pour sugar into a cup of tea or coffee, and how the Galleon can help you pay for a small snack, that's all they are. Just things. And if you want to give them meaning again, their value wouldn't be determined by some so-called memory. It would be determined by the one thing everyone agrees with. Money. There are events where money can lose value for a moment, but then it would get it back," Harry pushed the coin into his pocket while he put the spoon gently back on the table. "But you don't see that. There are people out there who don't have half of what you have, and you know something? Those people are better than you, then again many people are."

"Mudbloods? Blood traitors? Better than I, Draco Malfoy?" Malfoy sneered. "I am better than them, Potter. I am better than you; at least my parents are alive, and I don't have a scar on my forehead- Why are you smiling?"

"I'm smiling at your ignorance, Malfoy. You can go on about my parents all you fucking like because I know what will happen to you at the end of it. That's why I'm smiling."

"What are you talking about, Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

"This!" Harry flicked his wands and all of the Slytherins were banished with a high powered banishing charm, and they were sent cannonballing to the other side of the hall. "One more tip of advice, Malfoy; if you ever get a brain cell in that skull of yours, don't bother coming back!"

Unfortunately, McGonagall and Sprout had just come into the Great Hall and spotted the last few moments of the altercation. When it was over, the two Heads of House for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff came over, wands outstretched as a visible warning to all not to fight and they would not hesitate to use magic to impose order.

"Mr Potter, that's enough." McGonagall was about to say more but she was interrupted.

"The Headmaster wishes to speak with you," Sprout added, not wanting Minerva to go off tangent and make the situation more volatile than it needed to be.

Harry stayed where he was. "What does the Headmaster want?"

"He wishes to speak to you about the events from last night," McGonagall answered, her lips pursing.

"Fine," Harry's voice was full of indifference, but he followed the two teachers to the Headmaster's office. As the three of them moved up the spiral stairway, Harry's mind raced as he wondered what Dumbledore wanted. The old wizard was not normally this proactive, most of the time he would let things fester before he took action, but things must have really heated up for him to want a talk.

The moment he walked into the office, Harry grimaced as he saw looming in the background near Dumbledore, the tall, thin, greasy and unpleasant view of Severus Snape. The only things in the room he felt comforted by were Professor Flitwick and the valuable things in the room, and that was all.

Uncaring how it seemed, Harry took out his wand, conjuring a seat for himself before he sat down while ignoring the other chairs in the Headmaster's office because he wanted to be as far from the professors as he could, ignoring the looks from the teachers as he did so, knowing he had just revealed he was more proficient with magic than he had ever let on.

"Let's get down to business without wasting any more time," Harry spoke from his chair, hoping that would put an end to the potential and definite questions coming his way. However, Professor Flitwick was looking at him in amazement. "An extremely brilliant conjuration, Mr Potter," the little Charms professor commended, almost bouncing in his seat. "I never knew you could do that."

Harry realised at that moment he had could hide all he wanted but there would be times where he would have little or no choice in revealing his proficiency in magic, and it would show he was better at it than Dumbledore or the other teachers believed. At the same time, he knew he was fed up with hiding all the time, he had been hiding ever since he had learnt of what Dumbledore had done to him, but perhaps now it would be good for the old wizard to finally realise he was not the pawn everyone thought he was.

"I can do many things, Professor," Harry nodded respectively at the small professor.

"I imagine you could, Potter," Snape's drawl made Harry turn in his seat, and he inwardly rolled his eyes at the Potion Master's words, knowing there was more to come. "Arrogant, just like your father, believing you can wriggle your way out of a situation by showing off-."

Harry chuckled, and soon he started to laugh. He couldn't help himself, this was just too hilarious for him not to laugh, at the same time he could show off his disdain for Snape at the same moment.

"What are you laughing at, Potter?" Snape demanded.

"I'm laughing at you," Harry chuckled, gazing at the Potions Master with anything but humour in his eyes, hoping he was showing off his contempt for the greasy wizard more than anything else. "You're really deluded, aren't you, Professor?" He stressed the word to make it clear that no matter what anyone, even Dumbledore said, he would always wonder why anyone would think Snape deserved any kind of respect when he showed absolutely none to others. "All that because I happened to conjure a chair? Please. I conjured the chair because I didn't fancy one of the others in this room, and I know I don't need to show off in order to get out of a problem I'm in. But you can't see that, can you?" A sneer crossed his face. "You are so blinded by the pointless grudge you have towards me when its aimed at my father. Do you have any idea how pathetic you come across because you can't fight a dead man, you have to go after a teenager who wasn't even born at the time?"

"Pathetic?!" The word snapped through Snape's control, and he stalked forwards but he was stopped when Professor Flitwick, surprised and horrified by the display, jumped in front of Harry and pointed his wand at Snape's body.

"That's enough, Severus!" Flitwick's usually jolly countenance was furious, making him truly resemble a goblin. "I have seen such a terrible display in my entire time at this school. Sit down, and act as a professional teacher for the first time in your life, and if you ever act this way towards a student again, you and I will cross wands."

Dumbledore stood up. "That's enough, the pair of you. However, Filius, Severus does have a point about Mr Potter's actions during this meeting. He definitely will not wriggle out of any kind of situation in this matter."

Flitwick stared aghast at Dumbledore, unable to believe what he had just heard. Never in his entire career as a Charms professor had he witnessed such a terrible display. Not only was a student being punished for performing an advanced piece of magic rather than being praised for it, which was what Headmasters of old would have done as well as pointing out to teachers they needed to behave professionally, but the current Headmaster was condoning it. Worse yet, Snape had insulted the boy's father, and Dumbledore, for reasons completely unknown to Flitwick, allowed it. Snape was insulting a war hero who'd laid down his life for his family after giving the last war his all, and yet Dumbledore proved again Snape came first even if Flitwick was repulsed by the presence of a known Death Eater on the staff.

Flitwick turned to McGonagall while glancing at Pomona and saw, thankfully, the Head of Hufflepuff looked just as shocked as he was himself, but one look at her showed there was to be no help there. Either the woman was ignoring everything in the room, or she had no idea what had happened just a moment ago. The entire display horrified him no end. He didn't know what the outcome would be, but he decided to take the law into his own hands.

"Do you know what's just happened, Minerva? This teacher has just insulted one of your former students, one you claim to be a favourite, and he isn't being punished for it!" Flitwick said.

"What?" McGonagall glared at Dumbledore and Snape, snapping out of her lack of awareness.

Mentally sighing in relief while cursing the fact he'd even needed to explain what was going on, Flitwick turned to Dumbledore while speaking to his old colleague while wondering what it was about Dumbledore and the environment he was creating here which made people this oblivious. "Professor Snape," he refused to even call the man by his name, spitting the title Dumbledore had given the man but didn't deserve if this display was typical, "insulted Mr Potter's father, comparing young Mr Potter with James believing just because he conjured that chair, and how he will wriggle out of it."

Dumbledore mentally cursed as the entire meeting spiralled out of control. He hadn't expected things to turn out like this, and he mentally disembowelled Severus for once more using every opportunity he had to demean everything Potter. "That is is more than enough, Filius. Severus, desist. Harry did conjure a chair, yes; such an act of magic is commendable, and I doubt the young man was doing it as a means of wriggling out of any kind of trouble, am I right, Harry?"

Harry had been sitting quietly as the chaos had unfolded. He hadn't expected any of the professors to suddenly leap to his defence, in actual fact he had been prepared to be punished for being James Potter's son all over again, so it was a surprise when Professor Flitwick leapt to his defence while at the same time he was not surprised McGonagall hadn't. Annoyed with Dumbledore freely using his first name but holding it back, although it did make him once again wonder if the Headmaster was a paedophile which he wouldn't put past him since the man was manipulative in the extreme, Harry shook his head.

"I only conjured that chair because I wanted to be comfortable, and I knew I could do it. I never once imagined using the conjuration for wriggling out of trouble. Nor would I. Professor," he turned to Flitwick and smiled gratefully at the little professor, pleased that the Charms professor was aware of Snape's appalling attitude although what it would do long term, he didn't know, "thank you for standing up for me even when the Headmaster did not."

Dumbledore flinched. This meeting was falling apart, yet it hadn't even happened. Damn it, Severus. Just once will it kill you to stop this insane grudge? At the same time he realised he was at fault himself, he should have added that Harry should be commended for the conjuration even though he was inwardly worried about Harry's spell repertoire.

The boy wasn't meant to be this good with magic. He was meant to be powerful, yes, but not this knowledgeable. By keeping him at a certain level, Dumbledore was sure he could control Harry. But he didn't know just how powerful the boy was. And that worried him.

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, pushing his concerns to the side, and he reopened his eyes while using his occlumency to rein in his concerns and his emotions. "Very well, we shall begin."

Inwardly he hoped this didn't become even worse than it had already turned out to be.