A/N: Sorry about the delay everyone! But I was on holiday for a week, and then I had to update my other two fics before I updated this, and I had loads of trouble with one of them (I did! I accidentally deleted the file from my floppy disk!). And because it seems like I'm making excuses now, I'm just gonna get on with the fic.

Disclaimer: Do I really have to say this? Come on! Don't make me say it! I've said it like eighty times in total! Surely you get the idea by now! Fine! I'll say it, but you're not getting a cookie! I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters or places associated with him. Happy now? No? NO?! YOU'RE NOT HAPPY?! FINE THEN!! ::punches disclaimer:: Bloody legalities!

Chapter six

First day back at Hogwarts was hell. It really was. But you probably have no idea what I mean by that, unless, you have had everyone in your school hate at the same time, including the staff, who are not meant to be biased against any of the students (as if that's true), have had your entire school hate and fear you for something you have no control over and a headmaster who has decided to make things difficult for you because your father happens to be leading an actual war again the current ideals lifestyles of the world as it is, and let's face it, it's unlikely you have been through that.

But my first day of my seventh year was hell. Fortunately there was no Malfoy for me to have to deal with, but, unfortunately, no Ron to joke around with. There wasn't anyone I could turn to in the school, or, even, the world that I could turn to with my problems and troubles anymore (besides Luna, and God only knows that I would never talk to that lunatic unless I had to at that point), but there was no way I was going to give the satisfaction of knowing that. It's a very important lesson to learn: Never give your enemies extra ammunition. It's basically digging your own grave.

My first lesson on the first day of my last year at Hogwarts was Transfiguration, with my dear old head of house, Professor McGonagall. As soon as I read that on my timetable I felt a strange feeling of impending doom. It was, weirdly enough, a foreign feeling to, despite all of the times myself and my father had fought against one another, him trying to kill me and me just trying to get away with my life and all of my limbs intact.

I arrived at the Transfiguration classroom a couple of minutes early, but there were already a few people there, including the mudblood, along with her new best friend (and also a bitch of a mudblood), Lavender Brown (Parvati Patil having been killed at some point during the summer, not sure when). I really don't know why they became friends. They have very little in common. Granger is a total bookworm who is definitely not the most interesting of people, and Brown prefers, from what I can gather, talk about make-up and guys and detests talking about something that could be counted as educational. I think the only thing that they could possibly have had in common was how much they hated me.

I'm not quite sure when, as I was there during all of the start-of-term feast and breakfast, but at some point since I had gotten to Hogwarts Dumbledore had poisoned the school even further against me by simply telling them the truth, probably mixed with a few little (and not so little) lies. The old man really is a master manipulator. It's almost shocking how easily he does it, but, then, this is a Dumbledore, and their family has, strangely enough, build up a reputation among the darker families of the wizarding world as the most manipulative family you would ever meet. The current most famous Dumbledore (you know the one, my esteemed headmaster) has managed to shatter that reputation among the lighter half by, you guessed it, more manipulation. The world was really dumb to not realise that they were constantly being controlled by the old twit.

Dumbledore had even gotten to the professors and turned them against me, though I suppose that was hardly surprising. He would surely have spoken to them first, most probably telling them that the rumours about me being Voldemort's son were false, but I had been kidnapped by him, would most probably believe otherwise on my return to Hogwarts, if I returned, and that I was most probably a hopeless case by the time school started up again. And people wonder why I hate Dumbledore.

"Welcome back class," McGonagall had said, starting the lesson after letting us in. "This is a very important year for you. You NEWTs are coming up."

There was a series of groans throughout the room, and quickly enough I realised she was giving us the whole speech we had been given by most of our Professors in our OWL years, only with a few slight changes, but the gist of it would be the same. Important exams... Good marks could really help you out with your chosen career... Your life depended on the results... Yada, yada, yada. You get the idea. Anyway, it was totally boring, so I just, kinda, tuned out, which wasn't good because she pretty quickly got off that speech and started to talk about something else.

I think she may have spotted the fact that I looked like I wasn't listening and decided to make sure if it was true by asking me a question, which I totally missed.

"POTTER!" she yelled at me, causing me to snap out of my thoughts. "Were you even listening at all this lesson?"

I looked up at her, feeling slightly sheepish, trying to think what I could say that she would believe. Then it came to me. Honesty was probably the best policy at this point.

"Um, no?"

I could tell she wanted to scream at that point, but, as you can probably expect and appreciate, she didn't. She took a fair few points from Gryffindor as punishment though, but losing point didn't bother me too much. They weren't even real, just some metaphorical way to boost the morale of all of the school (apart from the three quarters of the school that lost, of course) and a way to help keep the students in line that didn't always work too well.

She didn't really bother me for the rest of the lesson, though that may have been because I was actually paying a little more attention and actually listening. Whatever the reason it at least got her off of my back and I was glad. Professors are really annoying when they pick on you deliberately.

The next class I had was Potions, with our brand new Professor, Professor Reginald Occuren. I wasn't particularly looking forwards to it. You see, no matter how much I had hated Snape, I hated to subject he taught more. It took too much precision for my liking to get the correct results, and I've never been one for being exact.

Down in the dungeons when we were waiting for Occuren to arrive (it was all of the seventh years that had gotten into the class that were there, since there was only about ten of us who had gotten a sufficient grade for Snape to allow us into the NEWT level class) nothing much happened. The Slytherin's were doing their best to ignore me (probably wishing they could curse me into a thousand little pieces, but couldn't, because not only were they not brave enough to do that to the Dark Lord's only child, but also the only person who even attempted to curse him at Hogwarts before had been Malfoy and he had never been successful) though they were sending me glares whenever they thought I wasn't looking, whilst those in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were just glaring flat out, and the couple of Hufflepuffs that were in the class were just glancing nervously at me.

When Occuren finally arrived I got my first good look at him. He wasn't that different from Snape, just not quite as hard on the eyes.

"Get in quickly," he snapped, making a few people groan as they thought that Occuren would be as bad as Snape. Little did they know they were wrong: he would be worse.

Everyone sat down quickly and silently, not wanting to get on this professor's bad for all of the money in the world.

"This lesson we will be covering the basic theories behind most of the potions you have made over the past six years here. No doubt your previous professor," he sneered as he said the word professor, seemingly doubting that Snape could have actually been counted as a professor of any kind. "Neglected to teach them to you at any point."

"But sir," Granger said, scowling Occuren. Obviously she didn't like him anymore than any of the rest of us. Or maybe she just didn't like the obvious disrespect he had for the dead (a death which I still hate my father for not at least letting me watch!). "We've-"

"Miss Granger, isn't it?" Occuren said icily, and continued once he nodded the affirmative. "You will do well in my classroom not to speak without raising your hand first."

She raised her hand, her scowl deepening and Occuren nodded to her, giving her permission to speak. This was almost like the whole Umbridge incident all over again, though with two exceptions: Dumbledore had appointed Occuren, not the Ministry, and Occuren didn't ignore people if they had spoken out of turn and then put their hand up after reminding them about it.

"Sir, we've already been taught the theories and basic principles behind the potions!"

I can tell you right here and now that Occuren did not like being told anything. You see, his face kind of swelled up, and turned a pale-ish purple colour in fury. A vein bulged on his forehead and his fists clenched. To be honest, he looked an awful lot like Vernon did when I really got under his skin. It wasn't a pretty site.

"Miss Granger," he started out, using the same dangerous Snape had often used against me in his classes. "Am I right in thinking that you are questioning my lesson plan?"

Granger shook her head, and a small smirk appeared on his face.

"Are you a qualified Potion's Master and Professor?"

Granger shook her head again, a look of confusion on her face. God, that was funny.

"Are you questioning my competency, and that of the head master for hiring me?"

Again Granger shook her head, and the rest of us, or at least I was, were on the edge of our seats, wanting to know what he would do.

"Then kindly shut up."

It was as simple as that. Within five minutes into his lesson Occuren had insulted our dead ex-professor's competency, managed to get most of us more scared of him than Snape had managed in six years and managed to put a look of absolute confusion of Granger's ugly face. Things were certainly going to be different.

The lesson itself was far more boring that I could have imagined, with Occuren getting more and more strict as it progressed, and it only served to strengthen my hatred of the subject. So you can imagine my relief when it ended, relief which was quickly cut short when Occuren told me to stay behind. As your can guess, nerves started to kick in. No one would want to be trapped in a room with that man, especially not after the lesson from hell with him.

The other students filed out quickly, not wanting to spend another second in the same room as him ever again, though they must have known it wouldn't be possible, and they didn't even spare me a glance. They probably felt that no one deserved to be stuck in there any longer after class, but they weren't going to show me sympathy. It might give the idea that they've forgiven myself and my father for being born.

"Mr Potter," Occuren said, looking at me with a gleam in his eye and an expression on his face that I couldn't quite identify. It probably wasn't good, whatever it was.

A/N: ::laughs uncontrollably:: I know I may get loads of death threats for that, but who cares?! I haven't received a good death threat in ages! Woohoo! Death Threats! I can hardly wait!

Unless I don't get any death threats... then I may go cry! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT DEATH THREATS! GIMME SOME DEATH THREATS! GIMME SOME DEATH THREATS! GIMME SOME DEATH THREATS NOW! I WANT DEATH THREATS! GIMME THE DEATH THREATS!

Okay, I think I recovered from that little outburst. Onto the reviews!

Krissy Riddle: Well of course it fits his character. It fits Dumbledore because he is one. I'm making you jealous? Yay!

Shadowface: Okies!

The Vampire Story Hunter: You wanted to subtly motivate me to do better? Well, either worked subconsciously, or it didn't work at al because I'm not actually trying to make this any better, just writing it as go along.

Ranchan17: Thanks for letting me know!

Kage Mirai: Which is precisely why I love Slytherin!

Serpentiana: Harry may get some friends. It depends on what I think as I'm writing. If he does get some friends they'll most likely be Slytherins though. And hard? To make the old fart sound mean? I found it quite easy, to tell the truth.

NatalieJ: Why haven't they?! It was a good idea!

123: Thanks! His cynicism pretty easy to write, I just put in how I think I would feel.

Wanamaker: Thanks!

ChaosDream: Thanks! Here's the update!

Slytherinheart: Of course it wouldn't. A loving Voldemort seems really unlikely.