The Choice of Silence

Chapter IV: Discovery

AN: Read this, it's important! First of all, I'm very sorry for the delay. This chapter had been ready since a week ago. I sent it to my Beta-Reader but I don't know what's happened because she's not answering my e-mails. So, obviously, this chapter is un-beta'ed. I ask you to bear with some grammar mistakes, at least, until I can contact my Beta.

 AN2: I won't answer the reviews yet, like I normally do with my chapters. But I promise I'll do it on the beta'ed version. Another thing, this chapter contains some swear words… so be prepared… it's nothing bad… only some "f" words…

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…

~*~

As Harry walked to the to the Head Table, he could feel the student's curious stares at him. He was, after all, the 'mysterious teacher', as he had heard one Ravenclaw call him once. He didn't blame them, though. He didn't have any lesson yet so the students had only seen him on the feast on September first.

He smirked at the impression he must be giving them; his clothes were all black – black pants, black long sleeved shirts and, a black robe. They must be expecting a new Professor Snape! But he decided to try not to give the students a hard time – he had enough worrying about his mission and not about expecting to be cursed as soon as he turned him back towards them.

He sat down, a bit nervous, besides Mcgonagall. She smiled briefly at him and turned back to her plate. Sighing, he picked his fork up, and tried to eat something. It wasn't a very successful attempt – watching the students made him so nervous for his class after lunch that he just couldn't put anything into his mouth; let alone swallow it!

"Nervous?"

Harry looked up to the Care of the Magical Creatures' teacher, Lance Winston and for a brief moment wondered about Hagrid, where is he now? "Yeah, a little."

Winston smiled warmly at him. "Don't worry, you'll do well."

Winston wasn't very old; he was quite young, actually. Probably on his thirties, Harry didn't know. Harry smiled at him, nervously. "I hope so…"

"What is your first class? Gryffindors and Slytherins?"

"No… Third year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff… Why?" He asked as if he didn't know the answer.

"Well… you are new here so you don't know this but there is a immense dislike between the Slytherin and the other Houses. Mostly, the Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses." He shook his head in amusement. "It was pure luck you didn't have them for first class, Professor Knight."

"Luke,"

"I beg your pardon?"

Harry smiled. "Call me Luke. Professor makes me feel old. I'll get enough from the students, anyway; I don't need from the teachers as well."

Winston smiled back. "Luke it is." He glanced at his watch, "we'd better get going – lunch time is over!"

Harry muttered his thanks and rushed to his classroom.

~*~

"As you know, I'm Professor Knight, your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Harry said as the students began filling the room. Once he was sure everybody had arrived, he continued. "This year we'll be learning about Dark Creatures…" He stopped as several hands were raised. "Yes?"

A black haired girl answered. "We've already learned about them, Professor."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You have?"

This time it was a boy who answered. "Yes, sir. Last year."

"I see… I reckon you haven't studied about the Elemental Creatures, have you?"

The students shook their heads.

"Professor?" The same black haired girl asked.

"Yes, Miss…"

"Emily Thompson, sir." She said, helpfully.

"Yes, Miss Thompson?"

"Aren't we supposed to learn about them on the Care of the Magical Creatures class?"

Harry smiled kindly at her. "Yes, you are supposed to learn about them in the Care of the Magical Creatures class. However, you will learn here how to protect yourself from them. In Professor Winston's class you will only learn how to care for them."

He glanced around the room, asking silently if anyone had more questions and spoke once more. "Now, I want to know if anyone has ever heard about the Chimera…"

~*~

Harry watched as the students left the room mutely. After doing it, he didn't find teaching so hard – he had actually enjoyed it.

But Thompson's words stayed in his mind. They had leaned about the Dark Creatures in second year? Wasn't it too soon? He wondered whether it was that his class in his dimension had been delayed or that this place was ahead. It was probably both, he decided. After all, while was in school, his first year Professor was Voldemort's follower (and didn't teach well, Harry noted), Lockhart was a fluke – the only thing he did actually know was how to make his hair wavy. In this dimension, however, they probably accelerated the lessons as the Dark Lord was still on power; things were much more dangerous now.

He decided to go for a walk, his next class was in two hours – he still had time. And, he reasoned, he had to get more information for his mission. He grabbed his cloak, and left the classroom.

~*~

Harry was walking by the lake. It was a sunny day, the sky was clear. Looking to the Quidditch Pitch, Harry couldn't help but wonder when he would be able to play again. He missed Quidditch. The air rushing to his face as he ran to grab the snitch… The sense of freedom he got from flying. He wasn't Harry Potter there. He wasn't the Mage. He was the Seeker, important only because of his talent. Not his name or fame. Not even power.

He was he. Harry. Only Harry. Nothing more. He would lose and he would win. But above all, he would be respected (or hated) because of who he was. Not what he was.

For the first time in years he missed his old life. Not only the people, for he missed them too. But for the life as Harry Potter from Gryffindor. Seeker for the Quidditch Team. He missed the first, second, third or fourth year, it didn't matter as long as it wasn't fifth. For it was then when his responsibilities began, when he learned he was a Mage.

Before, his troubles in his years were only adventures. Trying to find the Philosopher Stone had been fun, after all, Dumbledore would never let something happen to him, would he? The Chamber of the Secrets was a child's play; who would be afraid of a diary, anyway? In third year, he thought Sirius was trying to kill him, even if he was, he couldn't enter the castle, could he?

Today, Harry admitted he had been too arrogant in these years. Too immature. He hadn't realized that it hadn't been a game, it wasn't something he could turn and say: "Okay, this is boring, I want to stop". It had been a life-death situation and he thought that, if he was the Boy-Who-Lived, he couldn't die. Snape wasn't wrong after all…

Snape always said he found himself superior then the others. And Harry was beginning to thing he was right. Harry did think so back then. Why else would an eleven years old boy try to kill an adult mountain troll when he'd been barely at Hogwarts for two months? And he had to admit Ron didn't help either. Being impulsive as he was, Ron also thought himself better than others. The Slytherins for example. Harry himself knew better than think all Slytherins were evil. The same way not all Gryffindors were good. He knew things were not always black and white. There was not only good and evil. There were in-betweens in the middle of these. One was not totally good and one was not totally evil.

Not even Voldemort. Harry thought with a sad smile. He didn't totally hate Voldemort, not anymore. The reason Voldemort wanted to clean the world so that no Muggle Born existed was only a consequence of being abandoned by his Muggle father and left to grow up on an Orphanage. Of course, Harry wasn't trying to excuse Voldemort's decision to kill people. Voldemort shouldn't have said, one day: "Well, my father abandoned me and as he is a Muggle, I'm gonna kill all Muggles! Ha!" Harry knew he was exaggerating, obviously Voldemort had never said this. He only liked to put an extra irony on all his thoughts.   

That's strange, though… I never liked to do this before… There were many things he didn't do before and he was doing now. Maybe he was maturing. After all, people matured from their experiences and he had to admit the ones he had were rough. He didn't know whether he preferred it that way, sometimes he did and sometimes he didn't.

There were moments he would look at the world and it would seem so… childish. It would look as if he was not a part of it, as if he was watching a film – everything would move, live but he would stay still and watch, analysing it all. Those were the times he would get more critical, more cynical and sarcastic. He liked this way of seeing life – it was more impersonal, nothing could reach him.

And there were the times he wished he could be innocent. It was so difficult to think of him like this nowadays… Had it been so long since he was like that? Had he ever been like that at all? Maybe before Hogwarts… Still, the Dursleys didn't let him be carefree either. And he had already been tainted by Voldemort. He probably was only innocent the time he'd spend with his parents.

It was strange, still. He knew this yet; it didn't have much of an effect on him. I probably am on those cynical moods now… He looked back to the castle; he hadn't found anything for this mission yet but it was already late. He would try again, tomorrow; maybe he'd be more successful then.

~*~

Harry was passing by an empty corridor. He had decided to go out for a walk, he had had a nightmare. It was one of those where Voldemort killed his parents. He stopped. Was that a voice? It was getting louder, someone was yelling… He decided to go closer. "Perthro," he chanted the Rune of Invisibility.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S MISSING?" One of the Voices shouted.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK, DUMBLEDORE? HE-IS-MISSING!"

They continued to argue, Harry couldn't hear much, there was probably someone else in the room asking them to lower their voice because, suddenly, the Voices lowered considerably. "Who is missing?" Harry whispered to himself. Putting his head on the wooden door, he tried to listen to more.

He couldn't. One moment later, a very angry Dumbledore stormed out of the room and Harry had to be careful not to trip as he was leaning on the door.

There were still three people in the room. Harry could see them now as the door had been opened. He had stopped breathing, for a moment. They were Lily and James and someone else Harry didn't know. Lily was kneeling on the floor next to James, who was sitting on a chair with his head on his arms. The other person was across them, not looking so devastated as they did.

Though now Harry had already met his real parents, it was still a shock to see them again. Even if they weren't really his parents. He shook his head angrily. No, he wouldn't think of that. He had to concentrate on his mission and this missing person was probably related to this.

"Are you okay, James?" Harry heard Lily asking.

"I can't believe he's gone, Lily! I just CAN'T!"

"I know, James. But you need to be strong! Sirius wouldn't want you to suffer!"

"He's not here, is he? He's not fucking ALIVE! He's gone! MY BEST FRIEND IS FUCKING GONE!"

"He's not gone, he's missing…"

But Harry hadn't heard that part. He had turned away and ran to his quarters. Sirius was gone there… he couldn't believe it. He didn't know why it bothered him so much; after all, he hadn't even met this Sirius before! It didn't matter that he saw his parents now; Sirius was more like his father than James ever was. Calm down, Potter… It wasn't YOUR Sirius… You can still see him, if you want…

Harry stopped suddenly at this train of thought. Of course! How didn't I ever see it before! He had already toyed with this idea and now he had the perfect situation.

He rushed to his room and picked up the data the Silcála had given him. He opened it. "I want information about Sirius Black." He commanded it and with a light blue glow, on the parchment he had in hands, words appeared with the information he had asked. Let me see… Let me see… Birth… no… Parents… no… ha! Actual Situation…

Dead.

The word he was waiting for, as sadistic it sounded. He wasn't happy about it, but he had learned that there were things worse that death. Harry, himself, was dead after all.

But this situation opened an opportunity. It would be quite helpful, as Dumbledore didn't trust him. He needed somebody from the inner circle… He wasn't sure if his idea would work and he still needed to get permission for it but he would fight for it. He needed it. Not only for the mission.

The problem is getting permission. He was sure, had he been another person the Order wouldn't refuse. But still, Harry was afraid they would think he was mixing emotions with the mission – which was inexcusable.

He sighed. He had to do it, though. If he stayed there, pondering, nothing would happen, he figured. He picked his bina and pushed the button that said: Silcála. Almost immediately someone answered.

"Yes?" It was the High Master, Harry knew.

"Hum… High Master? It's Master Shinhi."

"Master Shinhi? Are you having problems?"

Harry blushed a little. Though he knew it was common for the Masters on missions to ask for help to the other Masters, he wasn't quite used to it, yet. It frustrated him to ask for help, as immature it sounded. "Yes, Master. I was wondering if I could summon someone to help me."

"I see. Why?" The Master was brief, thought not cold.

"Dumbledore doesn't seem to trust me. I need someone from the inner circle. And… recently I found a very useful information…" He took a deep breath – it was now or never. "I want to summon an old friend from my dimension here.

"I want to summon Sirius Black."

~*~

TBC… (Don't you all hate this?)

Well… try to be gentle, okay? I'm very insecure with this chapter as it wasn't beta'ed and my Beta didn't give me her opinions. Please, review… I really need to know what do you think about this chapter, all right? ^-^