Disclaimer: In the beginning, nothing of this will be original. Harry potter and all characters plots and elements that are used are property of the author J.K.Rowling. This is an alternate universe fictional story beginning from the end of year one (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone), the differences should become greater with each chapter.
If you like Dumbledore then please stop reading this story now.
Oh and why is everyone obsessed about slash? There was barely one review that had not mentioned a persons view on the topic.
Post Posting Correction - I appologize for having to do this but
the inconsitancy no mater how minimal always bugs the hell out of me.
***gumbles something about substitute english teachers and Star Mage***
I am grateful for any input that you people want to give. I just don't have to happy about the mistakes that I make that you catch and even more upset by the mistakes that are missed.
Professor McGonagall just glared at the three red heads and pointed towards the doors that were being held open by a gapping Snape. Amazingly even Ron Weasley had survival instincts and left the Great Hall without anything more than a nod.
With a wave of his wand Dumbledore announced to the school, 'Without any further disruptions, let the feast begin!' Harry scoffed on the inside at Dumbledore's flare of show man ship. The wand movement did nothing more than tweak several lines of the castles ambient already existing magic, the tables (including the splintered remains of the head table) were switched from somewhere else causing it to appear that the table along with the food was fixed and summoned by a single wave. Harry unobtrusively ate his portion trying to not be noticed by his fellow students.
This worked an entire thirty seconds.
The whispers took an entire fifteen to reach Hermione.
Harry felt her glare.
He turned to her and watched as she pursed her lips in a fashion that rivalled McGonagall's at that very moment unknown by all involved.
Harry knew that he would have to have explanations.
Explanations that he would not give.
He felt he would feel a little more hurt in not having any friends by his own merit. He knew she was Dumbledore's the moment he looked at her magic. So when he thought he should feel hurt he instead felt a little disappointed. Maybe Dudley did not scare the other children away. Just maybe he did not have the ability to make real friends.
His already small appetite vanished.
Phobos as if sensing Harry's thoughts gave his arm a gentle squeeze while tasting the air near his ear. Somehow a bit of the steak and kidney vanished in thin air. Apparently even though the hybrid had no need to actually eat (they had the ability to live off the ambient magic even to the point of not actually needing to breath) it had enjoyed sampling the various tastes available to them. When Harry felt Hogwarts brush against his own magic he felt his appetite slowly return.
If he was to survive with out harm he would need to continue to fit in and not to incur the old man's wrath.
...
There is a certain phenomenon where any object, once the level of magic on said object reaches a certain point; it will start to behave in ways beyond its original intended purpose. It becomes aware, self conscious even. There is a certain school of thought that believes that this is just an anomaly as a result of the various spells interacting. They follow along this course of thought and conclude that an enchanted object does not really understand its surroundings and when they misbehave it is only a failure of the caster of the spells.
Unfortunately or fortunately they are wrong.
Once inanimate objects take enough spells, charms, enchantments ...whatever, the magic twists itself to bring itself to life. It may not eat or sleep but it knows its purpose and will strive to continue its own existence.
For instance a certain Ford Angelina that is at this point beginning its feral life in the forbidden forest, has (on some instinctive level) realized from the moment it crashed in front a host of witches and wizards that its life as a simple tool must end if it did not want to be stripped of its magic based life.
This also brings into existence a second part of objects lives. Every spell that is cast retains a part of the will of the caster. So if above mentioned vehicle was put together by a kind man with an odd interest in muggle items in his spare time, then it will retain a part this said mans personality. So even though the life is unique by its own will of magic it still retains the signature of the one or ones that created it. As well as absorbing personality from the its creator, over time objects gain bits of the personalities of its users and even to the point of absorbing personality from anyone in the vicinity. This means that the longer that a magical artefact exists the more unique its personality will become.
This is the theoretical side of this.
But then an individual must note the key identifying nature of all magic.
Magic will break all rules ever set for it and outside of it.
It might not be as it is cast but it will eventually.
...
The end of the feast came none too soon. Dumbledore had returned with a twinkle in his eyes ten minutes after he had left. The standard announcements, Filches growing list of the banned items. No magic in corridors, Qudditch, etceteras, and finally the school song...
It would have been enjoyable, except that the magic that was invoked to create the words was a whole lot dearer than most of those singing to it. Those with already existing bonds to the headmaster had those bonds tightened. The magic latched on to several additional students. Hogwarts wards fought this and succeeded with quite a few of the wizards, but Harry knew that a few new bonds were formed. All of the Slytherin were almost immune to this phenomenon. The two of them with already existing weak bonds only strengthened marginally. The Gryffindors on the other hand were affected the most.
'Ah music, a magic greater than what we do here...' Harry wanted to glare at the old man but he restrained himself. It was too early to reveal his change of opinions. So instead he quietly stepped out one of the side entrances and walked in the vague direction of the Gryffindor common room. He was very lucky that night, a passage that only opens at random intervals gave him a short cut that cut his trip in half, the stairway even shifted the moment he set foot on it to direct him straight at the landing near the Fat Lady. The Fat Lady herself opened before him even though he had not supplied the password.
He wandered up to his dorm and quickly changed. Closing the curtains around his four poster bed, he was asleep before his head even had a chance to hit his pillow.
...
The next morning Harry woke up and looked out the window noticing how drab the weather was outside. The clouds moved across the sky in an endless sea of grey. Hogwarts wards trembled in anticipation as it finally got to be what her creators had intended, a school for the magically gifted children. Harry closed his eyes, sitting on the window ledge, and allowed his senses to drift as far as possible trying to sense as much of Hogwarts as possible. The school was so living and its inhabitants were excited about the first day of classes. It was still early pre-dawn and he had hours until breakfast was supposed to be served. He walked over and opened his trunk to find a package on top that had not been there before. Harry reached in and pulled off the note attached to it. "
Hey Harry,
I know that you might need some help getting through the next term of school. Here are a few helpful potions that should make your time a little easier.
Good luck with everything and keep your head down.
Damon"
Grinning Harry quickly opened the package to find hundreds of shrunk vials ranging from some healing potions to sleeping potions to Veritaserum and even some odd ones like one to grow wings temporarily or one that claimed to give anyone scaly skin. Harry just shook his head and placed them in his potions kit along with everything else carefully sorting them. It was at this point that Phobos made their presence known.
'Massster the young red headsss up...'
Harry quickly turned to look at Ron's bed only to find himself to be glared at by the freckled Gryffindor.
'Can Isss toassst this onesss?' Prometheus hissed into Harry's ear while still retaining their invisibility. Unfortunately the hybrid had picked up a few of Chris' sayings during the short time that they had spent with the Masons. Even though they could not understand human language on their own part of their bond allowed them to use Harry's senses and understand them as much as Harry does. This also had the added advantage that Phobos could easily read what the wizard wanted them to do with little or no verbal direction.
Harry grinned as he met Ron's scowl and proceeded to grab his shower supplies before heading towards their bathroom. Coming out nicely refreshed he found that the youngest Weasley was no where to be found. Shrugging noncommittally the ebony haired boy quickly changed pulling his school robes on as he attempted once again to find order in the mess better known as his hair.
'Lossssing battle, give up before it attackss youss,' spouted an amused Anubis.
'Everyone iss a comedian,' hissed Harry as he glared at where he felt Phobos wrapped around his arm. Harry made a quiet exit out of his dorm pleasantly surprised in finding the common room empty.
...
Breakfast and Harry again sat at the far end of the table, most of the students giving him a wide berth. Hermione was already seated towards the other end and had one of her text books out in front of her reading as she picked at her food. Ron sat down across from her and immediately started talking which he received in return a glare.
Half way along breakfast an owl crashed into a pitcher of pumpkin juice in front of the red head twins. Rescuing said bird they both paled at the sight of the smoking red envelope. They grabbed it and ran unfortunately not fast enough. Harry could easily hear the explosive voice which he vaguely recognised as the Weasley matriarch. Once the message was finished there was a slight scuffle coming from the other end of the table as a beet red Ron stormed off leaving a flustered Hermione. Professor McGonagall stopped the red head to give him his timetable before she continued down the table.
When she reached Harry she gave him a gentle smile. 'We were not sure if you were going to return to us this semester. I am personally glad that you have returned in such good health all things considered. The Headmaster would like to meet you after your classes finish this afternoon,' she imparted with a genial smile. Harry nodded his head to say that he understood and looked down at the timetable that he was just handed.
He quickly headed off towards the greenhouses to attend his double Herbology lessons with the Hufflepuffs. When he reached them he was greeted by a cheery Professor Sprout.
'Today class we will be working in Greenhouse Three...'
...
Transfiguration was interesting at least. They were supposed to be reviewing by turning beetles into buttons but Ron was having trouble. Apparently the previous night his wand had snapped when he was expelled from the car and now it spread fowl smelling thick smoke every time he attempted to do the class work. The professor was especially displeased when the red head asked for another beetle. Harry was glad that he was sitting at the other end of the classroom and had finally managed his work after he saw how Hermione did hers. The lunch bell rang before Professor McGonagall checked the buttons.
...
Eating a small sandwich that he had pulled from one of the platters in the centre of the table Harry checked his timetable to figure out what class he had next. After noting that he had several minutes until his Defence Against the Dark Arts class was to start he decided that he should visit the Owlery and check to see if he could find his snowy owl Hedwig.
...
He made it up to the top of the west tower with no problems. He saw Hedwig nestled up in the rafters and tried to call her down. She responded immediately (after she woke up) and flew down to rest on his shoulder opposite the one Phobos was wrapped around. When Harry went to pet her he felt the traces of Dumbledore's magic surrounding her. The wizard focused on the magic to find its intent. His owl must go to the old man with every letter she carries. Reaching out around him he found that it was a charm found on every owl in the tower. A little more than angry the green eyed boy reached out and tried to unwind the intricate magic enveloping his bird.
Phobos sensing what was going on tried to warn Harry but they were too late. The magic had connected with his owl's spirit and soul and words Damon had spoken to him conversationally rose from his memory of the shared day, '...had Dark Arts lessons at Durmstrang from Dumbledore...' The gleam of life faded from her eyes as Harry attempted to undo his mistake. By trying to remove Dumbledore's dark magic he had in fact worse than killed his first friend.
A single tear trickled softly down Harry's cheek unnoticed.
...
Harry went through the motions for the rest of the day.
The annoying self accrediting fool Gilderoy Lockhart did a lot of pomp and show as soon as Harry walked in the door. He claimed that he would have no problems with mentoring Harry this year. It was such a high honour for Harry to be able to learn from such a master of defence. (Harry held himself back from cursing the idiot) In the first two minutes Harry knew that he, a second year, had greater knowledge of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Sitting at his desk tallying smiles, grins, and winks Harry turned his sense of magic towards his house mates.
Peeling away layers of magic from his fellow Gryffindors (without removing it) the young wizard attempted to identify what exactly was their purpose. Some of it linked minds to a point elsewhere. While others altered morals and the way some thought. Most of them were to feel like Dumbledore was always right. They were to believe that his suggestions were the proper course of action (though they would not always be compelled to follow them).
Hermione's own were the hardest ones to go through. There were bits that told her to research, to learn and parts that told her to follow the rules, unless Dumbledore told her mind otherwise. After that foundation she was told to be his friend very similar to Ron's own. Apparently they were two controlling mechanisms. If he was slacking off enough Hermione was to push him to study. If he was advancing too quickly then Ron would provide distractions in order to move him away from the books. In other words Dumbledore controlled all aspects of his life and believes he still does.
When Harry filled in random information in an attempt to answer the horrible questions on that Merlin be damned test, he was slightly ticked off with how the idiot wasted his time. Harry decided to have a little fun and around question thirty two he wondered (writing his thoughts onto the paper) if everyone was to nice to mention the wrinkle bellow Lockhart's left eye. Question forty eight was answered with how Harry could tell how stressful his career must be noting the grey hairs as evidence.
When a blond git that goes by the name of Lockhart jumped up and ran out of the room halfway through marking the papers the boy tried to contain his laughter. Ten minutes with no sign of their supposed teacher Harry had enough and just stood up and walked out of class without looking back (doubting if Lockhart would even show his face at dinner).
He decided that he might as well make a start towards finding the headmaster's office. His mind drifted over the number of friends he truly had and could count it on one hand Damon, Jules, Chris, and Phobos. All others forced into the situation or dead. Phobos constant presence had been the only thing anchoring Harry to reality. His list of people he hated most in the world at that point in time featured Albus Dumbledore right before Voldemort and his Uncle Vernon. Not knowing exactly where to go he just continued to walk aimlessly through the castle. He felt Dumbledore's magic fouling the air. Some of his wards regulated the pre-existing ones. His magic forced the castle to comply. Not allowing it to move as it wished nor to allow it to maintain itself and clean the disused parts. It leashed the castles true power. Looking out a window that looked over the forest Harry carefully unwound Dumbledore's magic from Hogwarts. The trees nearest the castle appeared to be greener and to grow straighter. Paths that were barely visible now stood out to the green eyed wizard's perception. He continued down the hall and came to a stair case he had not noticed before. As he walked down the steps he attempted to banish Dumbledore's modifications to the wards. With each act the wizard felt the school pulse with more life. Twenty minutes into what he lovingly called house cleaning the castle had led him to a statue of gargoyle which moved aside as Dumbledore tore down a spiral staircase and walked down the hallway in the opposite direction from him. Harry made his way up the moving stair case and into what appeared to be the old man's office.
At first glance the boy had no idea what the twisting twirling metal apparatuses scattered about the room were. Each seem tied into the ambient magic, Hogwarts own, or linked to something elsewhere. Portraits with sleeping occupants hung around the walls around the round room.
The headmaster's wards seemed to come to a focal point in the middle of the room and Harry may have shattered them all if he did not realise what would happen to all of Dumbledore's energy once it no longer maintained his wards. Instead the young boy slipped his own magic between the schools and the headmasters creating a slight buffer. Dumbledore's would be less effective while Hogwarts gained greater freedom.
It was at this point that Harry heard a single pure note. On a stand in an alcove a beautiful old bird sat on a perch. It was way past its prime and its eyes glittering with knowledge of years beyond its haggard appearance. It raised its head and looked into Harry's eyes only to release a note so pure that it shattered the ice and hatred that had been forming around his heart. The magic affected him in ways he did not understand. He felt none of the workings of the magic behind the note nor could he pinpoint exactly what it did for him. Harry felt out towards the bird with his sense of magic and barely felt the noble beings essence. Even though Dumbledore still had a connection with it he knew that even he could not corrupt such a spectacular creature. He was unsure what the bird's relationship with the old man was and did not want to draw his attention through it.
Phobos, sensing Harry's inner turmoil, briefly became visible as Osirus sang a duet with the bird. 'Masster not to worriesss Fawkessss isss trussst worthy,' hissed Prometheus in his ear as the hybrid spread its wings to better inspect the room.
All of a sudden there was a slight click off to one side of the room. A cabinet to the young wizard's right hand side silently popped open letting out a silvery white light. Ever the curious boy Harry made his way over to it and opened the door completely exposing the rune covered stone bowl. He recognised it almost instantly as a Penseive, like the one from the rune shop. Leaning over he witnessed a younger Dumbledore knocking on the door of an old Victorian manor. Without realising it his thumb brushed the silvery fluid's edge forcing him to be pulled into the memory.
...
A much younger Dumbledore with auburn hair and beard stood outside the front gate of a Victorian manor. He pulled out a wand and pointed to himself muttering under his breath shortening his beard till there was just barely two inches remaining. Another incantation and his hair grew thin and grey. Yet another and his eyes went from a startling blue to a plain light brown. With a flick of his wrist his outfit changed from a set of midnight blue robes to a plain brown suit with a brown tie, a black top hat and a walking stick (which he slipped his wand into a slot in the middle).
Harry had watched the wizard this entire time not even a metre away from him without the man noticing his presence. Emboldened yet angered by his lack of response Harry did what any respectable wizard ought to do when meeting Albus Dumbledore, (even in disguise) punched him in the jaw. At least that is what he meant to do; not fall flat on his behind after losing his balance as his fist passed harmlessly through the man. Before he could compose himself properly, a beautiful dark haired woman with a gentle smile on her face walked out the gate and down the path away from Dumbledore. She wore a simple light blue skirt and Harry could feel the happiness and peace radiating from her.
It was at this point that the green eyed child realised that he was being dragged across the ground following the now ordinary (muggle) looking wizard through the gate that the woman had not shut behind her. He attempted to stand on several occasions only to realise he had no solid footing. When the disguised Dumbledore reached the front door he lifted his hand and gave the door three sharp raps the boy was finally able to regain enough footing to stand the man coming to a complete stop. As Harry dusted himself off a dark haired man that the green eyed wizard held a passing resemblance to opened the door.
'Hello? How can I help you Mr...?'
'Cryer, Jonathan Cryer. I am a member of the local church board of trustees. I have been away for a while on business. I am looking for Tom Riddle. Would he be in?' Questioned Dumbledore err... alias Jonathan Cryer.
'I am he... I am just sitting down for morning tea would you care to join me?' Riddle asked.
Dumbledore lifted his top hat and smiled graciously. 'Why I would be delighted,' and the old man followed the younger into a salon with beautiful windows looking out unto the countryside. Harry quietly followed.
After they were both settled with cups of tea and buttered scones the grey haired man volunteered the direction of the conversation. 'I am upset that I was not able to be in time for your wedding,' he brushed several stray crumbs out of his beared. 'I heard about it from several of the board members. Quite beautiful I was told. You two make charming couple really,' the wizard said conversationally.
At this time Harry moved around the room looking at the old photographs and oil paintings. He found to his disappointment that he was only able to travel to the entrance and windows before the force that dragged him along the ground would stop him. His attempt to examine the phonograph failed also as he was not able to actually touch it. When he finally turned back to the conversation he realised he missed a part of it.
The air started to charge with Dumbledore's magic yet neither man acted like they noticed it. 'I am regretful but it is my sad duty to inform you that your wife, Sylvia Hecatious, is a witch,' "evil ...devil worshiper ...seductress ...serpent tongue" the magic whispered as Dumbledore solemnly spoke.
'How dare you?!' Riddle responded furiously.
'I witnessed her myself practicing her dark arts,' Dumbledore spoke gravely. 'If you won't take my words for it then take her word...' The wizard pulled out a crystal vial sealed with wax. There were runes etched into it but not ones of any power. Harry was able to read it from his rudimentary studies, "Gia's Bane." 'I have here holy water blessed by Christ himself,' "test ...just one drop ...then you can clear all doubt," at this point the old man hands the vial to the younger man. 'If she consumes a single drop of this her mouth will not be able to utter a falsehood until sunset. If I am wrong then no harm done. Take my warning or leave it. I am just doing my Christian duty,' with that statement Dumbledore stood up.
The silver fog swirls around Harry and the light darkens. The young wizard closes his eyes to fight the vertigo. His eyes open to find himself no longer in Tom Riddle's salon. He is surrounded by books. Looking around he realises that he is in a back corner of the Hogwarts Library near the restricted section. The future headmaster is standing silently looking down the isle between book cases as if he is waiting for something. A sniffle is heard in the distance. Dumbledore closes his eyes and says something under his breath and vanishes in thin air. An emerald green book with silver stitching he had been holding is floating in mid air. Harry heard the invisible wizard catch his breath as a quiet sob is heard at the end of the isle. A boy with an ugly swollen black eye is walking down the isle; his shoulders hunched trying to make him as small as possible. Harry recognised the posture as had held it often in his pre- Hogwarts days. He would try to make himself invisible after a confrontation with Dudley and his friends. He would try not to be noticed on his way to the safety of his dark cupboard to lick his wounds, hoping his aunt would give him a reprieve for a few hours. The young ebony haired boy, maybe a first or second year, finally sat down at a table not far away, unknowingly his back to the older wizard. The young wizard could have been Harry's twin well maybe not identical but a sibling never the less. He wanted to comfort him but he knew he could not affect any of what had once happened. Halfway through a silent sob Dumbledore dropped the green book near the restricted section. The boy jumped and spun around to see who ever had made the noise. Almost missing the book, but when the cover mysteriously opened the boys' eyes locked on it.
Curious (as Harry was) the ebony haired boy made his way over to it looking around to see if anyone noticed the fallen book. Assured that he was alone, the boy walked back to his seat. He dried his face with the sleeve of his robes during the process. He opened the green book and on the inside cover was silver Slytherin crest. Harry read the title page, over the boys shoulder, and gasped in shock as written across it in fine handwriting was the name Salazar Slytherin. Next thing Harry hears is some one walking around the end of the shelves at a calm steady pace.
'Mr. Riddle, I am sorry but curfew is in twenty minutes and I have to send you out. If you hurry you may make it to your dormitory before it,' a young woman suggests showing more care in her eyes than in her almost clinical tone.
'Thank-you Madam Pince. I am sorry I don't wanna be any trouble,' said the boy having slipped the book into his robes before she had rounded the corner. He kept his back to her as he stood up not wanting to show his red eyes proof of his crying.
'Oh Tom, you are never any trouble,' she empathised with the boy. 'Now run along now before Dumbledore or Filch catch you out after curfew.'
Again the mists of memory billow around the Potter heir and the library faded to be replaced by a girls' bathroom?
Harry watched as a girl walked up to the entrance and grumbled at the out of order sign. No one else was around but no matter how hard he tried he could not leave the second floor corridor. The force pushed him through the doorway it opening and closing as he passed. At first Harry did not notice anything unusual but then he heard a grinding noise to turn around and find a sink shift into the wall. A slightly out of breath older Tom Riddle climbed out of the hole created by the missing sink. He proceeded to leave the bathroom checking the hallway both directions before walking out. Once the door was closed Dumbledore appeared pointing his wand at the entrance and warding the door before examining the space. He looked as if he was going to jump in it when Harry heard a single note sound before something pulled him up and out of the memory. Immediately Harry felt the pressure of an invisible Phobos wrap around his upper right arm.
'Massster Old Man isss comingsss,' hissed the hybrid in his ear. Harry needed no further warning to close the cabinet door. A Penseive he imagined was one of the things that would be considered very personal. It would not be a good idea to be caught in another person's without permission.
The Headmaster decided that this would be the time to appear.
...
Albus Dumbledore was no one's fool. No one got in or out of his office without his knowledge. If a person passes the gargoyle either way it was noted by his wards. He even had the ability to listen to people as they attempted to guess his password. He actually enjoyed some of his staff member's attempts at guessing the non existent password (the record was held by Severus at three hundred and twelve before the man threatened to hex the 'infernal paper weight' to oblivion). So he was a little surprised that he had not noticed the breach in the wards. It took merely a glance to tell that the boy in front of him had not had a chance to do anything that required his memories altered. As they both drank their tea he browsed through the young Potter's memories of the summer. "Chores ...cupboard. Burns ...cupboard. Broken arm ...cupboard. He escaped, when he noticed his sight beginning to return, two days before the train and used public transport to get to Diagon Alley and got his school supplies," how interesting. The boy was glad to be back "home." Not to far off his needed development. Dumbledore smiled on the fact that he did not need to start over in the forging of a pawn. He knew his past mistakes and was glad that his current "project," one he feared might have been lost to in fact be in perfect condition.
The boy was so grateful for being allowed to stay that Dumbledore decided that the Dursleys would not need to be encouraged any further. The wards could be dealt with at a different date.
...
The ebony haired green eyed child honestly felt disgusted. That was the only way to describe it. The invasion of privacy of a Penseive was a whole lot less than someone trying to pick through the memories while they were still in his head. He panicked at first when the Headmaster's magic tried to probe his mind but then he realised he could feed it what he wanted. He changed the memories as he handed them over to the magic altering his true feeling even. The magic honestly made him sick though. He felt violated for himself and anyone who crossed the bastard's path. The man was joyous over his broken arm, gleeful over the burns and smug about having to use the last of last year's money in order to pay for his school things. Harry only was slightly satisfied in the fact that he delivered the falsehoods with ease.
He still could not get out of the man's office fast enough.
...
When Harry made it back to the Gryffindor common room he found Hermione and Ron fighting. Hermione was concerned with what had happened to their defence professor while, Ron tried to convince her that missing half a class at the end of the day was not that big of a deal. She countered with a statement of every class affected their future. He then responded that it was only the first day of term. It was at this point that Harry had finally edged around the room unnoticed to the stairs to the boys' dormitory.
His mind still grasping the memories he had witnessed decided that he would research what Gia's Bane was exactly. In the first two books Harry only found mention of Gia's Blessing which improved over all health when consumed. It was a seldom sought potion for there are others that improve individual aspects more readily. He skimmed through a third book and almost missed its mention under a different potion. In the development section under Veritaserum it mentioned a predecessor that was named Veratis that also went by the name Gia's Bane. Veratis was widely used until some undesirable side affects surfaced that gave it its name. It continued on about what was altered and the differences between them were except it did not mention what the undesired side affect was. He finally found Veratis complete description in the fourth book he skimmed through. The length of its affect was limited to sunset. A single drop would force you to unknowingly speak only the truth. In men it was found to cause limited impotence while woman would only have a problem if they were with child during consumption. In birth it caused excessive bleeding proving fatal when not dealt with immediately. Which was all well and good but it did not exactly explain what Dumbledore's intentions. While Harry made his way to the Great Hall for dinner he came to the conclusion that he was going to have to explore the old man's office much more in depth. He needed to know what cards were in the hand of the conniving twit.
...
'I will not speak to him,' thought Hermione Granger as she glared fiercely at a certain red head. She was upset with the fact that Ron called a certain professor an idiot. She knew differently. She bet he had yet read a single page of even one of Gilderoy's books let alone the whole set. So his writing was a little flowery and it contained many unnecessary details but that allowed you to understand him as a man not just a reference.
She could not even bare to sit near him yet she also did not want to hear what the Ravenclaw prefect was caught doing in the prefect compartment on the way to school. So that meant she had to sit away from Lavender and Parvati. So in other words she sat by herself next to a group of sixth years.
'...is so cute! Just look at the way his hair is all mussed up,' cooed a brunet.
'Kate! He is only a second year,' cried a blond haired girl.
And of course Hermione was not eavesdropping ...they were talking too loud.
'Hey my parents have a four decade age difference four years is hardly anything. Consider it a long term investment. I mean look at him! He has looks fame fortune, he is an awesome Quidditch player and there are no in-laws to boot...'
'That is absolutely horrible! I didn't even think he was your type...'
'Oh come on! He has that entire dark and handsome thing going and I know he is going to be dangerous when he finishes puberty...'
OK now Hermione was eavesdropping. Who are they talking about?
'Look here he comes now,' whispered a blond guy obviously part of the same group of friends. They all turned their heads to watch the door as a certain ebony haired green eyed Gryffindor walked over to an empty seat at the end of the table. Hermione may have stood up right there to approach him if he did not radiate an aura of solitude. He would not be responsive right now to her lecture. She had no wish to be fighting with two friends at the same time.
She wondered if he liked the book she got him for his birthday.
...
Harry did not even notice what he put into his mouth at dinner. He was introspective at the moment.
'So mine is not the first life he screwed with. I would have preferred a mysterious book to being stuck with the Dursleys. I wander what was in it?' The internal monologue continued.
'Massster there are people looking at yousss...' Anubis quietly hissed in his ear at the same time as one of the potatoes on his plate disappeared. Looking up and around he realised quite a few people turned their heads away except a wide eyed silent boy that sat across from him three seats down. To be honest it was quite unnerving.
Harry sat through the rest of his meal without making eye contact with anyone else. When the cherry off of his desert vanished Harry had no desire to finish it. He rose out of his seat and quickly made his way through the Entrance Hall when he found his path blocked by the small wide eyed mousy-haired boy. He stood there holding what looked like an ordinary camera.
The boy just stood there opening and closing his mouth transfixed by Harry's irritated glare. It took a moment for said boy to finally work up the courage. 'I'm - I'm Colin Creevy,' he squeaked before taking a cautious step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think - would it be all right if - can I have a picture?' he said raising the camera hopefully.
'Excuse me?' Harry asked hoping that the boy was not serious.
'So I can prove that I've met you,' said Colin Creevy as he stood locked in place by Harry's piercing glare. 'I know everything about you. Everyone says that you made You Know Who disappear when he tried to kill you and everything and how you still have a lightening scar on your forehead, and I was told that if I develop the photos in the right potion it will move.' Colin drew the first breath of air since he started speaking. He continued his verbal rampage before Harry could put in two words, 'I am taking a lot of photos to send home to my dad, he's a milkman and it would be really great if I could take a photo, to prove that I know you,' he turned to a person standing behind Harry and asked sweetly 'maybe you could take a picture of us together and then,' he looked back at Harry 'maybe you could sign it?'
Harry heard a snort behind him. 'And have his head blow up to big to fit in the common room?' A certain red head scoffed from behind him. 'And have his head blow up too big to fit in the common room?'
'You're just jealous,' the first year replied.
'Jealous? What do I have to be jealous of?' Ron snorted.
If the situation was not bad enough a certain blond replied to his rhetoric question, ticking off points on his fingers. 'Let's see fame, fortune, power, good looks ...well maybe not'
'Eat slugs, Malfoy,' the red head interrupted him.
'Be careful, Weasley,' sneered Malfoy. 'You don't want to start any trouble or your Mummy'll have to come and take you away from school.' He put on a shrill voice. 'If you put another toe out of line...' Harry contained his mirth at the Slytherin's antics.
'Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter,' smirked Malfoy. 'It'd be worth more than his family's whole house.'
Harry could not help himself for he had been exposed to such wit for the last month of holidays between Jules and Chris. 'Do you honestly think there is much market for them? Sell em for a galleon ay?' Unfortunately not only did Ron and Malfoy hear this so did several Slytherins that had stopped to watch how this played out. They burst out laughing and the youngest male Weasley turned beet red right before he threw his fist at Harry's face.
'Mr. Weasley! What is the meaning of this?' Professor McGonagall cried out. 'Detention! Both of you fighting in the Entrance Hall,' she scolded as she picked Harry up off the floor and started to drag them both to her office to fill out the slips.
'Hey Potter,' came a call from behind them. Harry turned to find the reason; he caught the coin that was thrown at him. 'Give it to me when ever you can,' the green eyed Gryffindor looked confused and Malfoy decided to give him slack, 'the picture ...signed.'
Harry looked at what it was.
Malfoy had given him a galleon.
First deal if I really cared about the number of reviews all I would have to do is put slash in the summary. I like my readers at the moment. I hope that I continue to like them in the future.
Romance is not on Harry's plate at the moment to be completely honest. Though if my reviewers continue to obsess about slash I may have to force it in there someway.
To Rowlings interview where she said that there was no slash in her story I have to say to anyone who was surprised ...duh. That does not mean that Justin Finch-Fletchy can not be gay just that she would not mention his relationship with anyone in writing.
Next if you want to voice your oppinion about slash feel free, just validate your points. Anyone though who thinks they can win arguments by saying how 'disgusting gay people' are will lose my respect. As far as I figure ninety percent of slash is written by girls who don't want to leave their favorite guys single. I would not fall into this group ...Sorry.
If I do write slash it will be my way of striking out against the flamers out there. *insert evil cackle*
If you value your last meals current location DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING LINES if you do and keep said meal some how you may want to seek clinical help
now about relationships, what do you think about a Dudley Filch Vernon love triangle? You get to choose if Ms Norris, Fluffy, or Dobby gets thrown into the mix for extra kinkiness.
If you have read this far I honestly wonder which of us are more pathetic.