Well here's chapter two, keep up the reviews guys, they are especially helpful since I'm just starting out! let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I have nothing to take anyways, all hail JK Rowling and her masterpiece series.
The portkey that had quickly been performed by Albus Dumbledore in the remains of the atrium dropped Harry to the floor of the Headmasters office, looking around; the boy-who-lived took in the odd attire of the room. Silver instruments of all shapes and forms littered the desk, some whirring, some clinking, some humming, but to the young man who had just been dropped unceremoniously in the center of the office, they were all quite annoying. He stood from his sprawled position on the floor and brushed himself off, looking to the wall of portraits that contained every headmaster in the history of Hogwarts, he realized that none of them were whispering or talking about him and were instead all looking at him in something akin to shock. He sneered at them heavily and watched as many of them flinched and looked away, pretending to have not noticed him, while others tried to look like they were asleep.
Realizing that he may be here for a while, the young wizard decided to at least get comfortable and made his way around the desk of the headmaster and took a seat in what looked like a comfortably padded, yet elegant straight back chair. The chair itself was decorated in red and gold, a large flat representation of a phoenix rising from the ashes in a burst of flames adorned the padding while a seemingly perfect representation of the head of a lion crested over the top, the arms were detailed with a carving of a lions paw, the legs of the chair were the same, carved with the perfect depiction of a lion ready to pounce, leaving the viewer with the concept that the chair was more of a throne than a simple chair. Harry snorted in amusement as he flopped down in the 'throne', the stitched phoenix squawked and with a pop the throne turned into a leather recliner, unfortunately it kept its color scheme with the transformation.
A scoff of indignation was heard from several of the portraits that adorned the wall, the majority of them forgetting that they were trying to not pay attention to him. A portrait near the entrance door to the office, of a distinguished looking wizard, whose beard and hair were as white as Dumbledore's, but whose beard was trimmed short with straight shoulder length hair was glaring at him with contempt and sneered haughtily "BOY! That is the property of the headmaster, every headmaster of this institution since the founders has sat in that chair, how dare you presume that you have any right…." He trailed off as the young wizard pulled out his wand and grin menacingly and waved it over the infuriating silver instruments in front of him and coldly intoned "Verto Telum" and watched in amusement as all of the instruments stopped their various noises and spewing and morphed into about two dozen darts, identical to those used in the pub near Privet Drive, the Pseudo Aristocrat, that his uncle often frequented. The eyes of the wizard in the painting widened as the first of the darts was levitated without an incantation and the first was sent flying at him at an insane velocity with a muttered "Expulsum" from the green eyed demon that kicked his feet up on the headmaster's desk and just laughed, a rather cold and heartless laugh that promised suffering. The now flustered and panting ex-headmaster ran from frame to frame as the darts continued to fly in his direction, finally pinning him just as he was about to make his escape to a portrait of himself in his family home.
"Your name?" the raven-haired young man ground out from across the room in a menacing voice to the now terrified portrait, the young wizard was still reclined in his seat, dirty trainers marking up the beautiful oak desk in front of him.
"Hea-Headmaster V-Vance Muldoon" the portrait sputtered and fought to free his robes of the dart that had pinned him from his escape.
Harry watched him with amusement glittering in his eyes and bowed his head mockingly and replied "Harry Potter, the pleasure is all yours I'm sure, but out of curiosity, did you happen to be a Hufflepuff when you attended?" he asked laughingly and snorted when he heard several of the other portraits stifle laughter at his jab.
The visage of Vance Muldoon attempted to glare back at the arrogant young man who was sitting at the headmaster's rightful desk, but faltered under the cold gaze of the green eyes and murmured "Gryffindor" and then yelled "and I know who you are! You are the brat that Albus is always going on about, having wrapped around his pinky, how you are going to defeat the dark lord for him…." trailing off and covering his mouth, not believing what he had just blurted out.
Harry smirked and nodded to him in thanks and replied haughtily "Gryffindor indeed, you keep secrets as well as Ron" and then murmured in thought, "The imperious curse works on enchanted objects, I wonder if the cruciatus does as well…" ignoring the shocked gasps of nearly every portrait in the room, while the others watched him with a calculating stare. He shook his head, his untidy raven hair bouncing into his eyes as he did so and stared at the desk in front of him thoughtfully, "I need to start increasing my repertoire of spells or I will never have any fun against old snake face" he murmured to himself and then moved his wand in a sweeping motion across the room and called out softly "Accio Darts" as they flew out of the wall of portraits and back to his waiting free hand.
The portrait of Headmaster Muldoon sighed in relief as the dart flew out of his cloak and made to return to his portrait near the door when another dart flew at him, sticking right in front of his throat, he ducked and ran at a sprint to leave the headmasters office, murmuring things like "demon…" and "new dark lord…" as he disappeared from sight, followed by an amused laugh from the young wizard and a few snorts and stifled laughs from the other portraits.
A flash of fire to his left broke the young wizard out of his amusement and he smiled lightly at the form of Fawkes, the phoenix who had saved him during his fight with the Basilisk during his second year. The phoenix cocked its head to the side and stared at the teenager for a few moments before it opened its beak and started to twill in phoenix song temporarily soothing the anger that was still radiating off of the young, green eyed wizard, before leaping into the air and with a light flap of its wings, Fawkes landed on the relaxed shoulder of the boy-who-lived and continued to sing softly and nip at his ear in affection. The boy simply smiled and ran his thumb along the bottom of the phoenix's beak and his pointer finger along the feathery ridge on top of his head while contemplating all of the events that had occurred during the day.
The events played through his head like a slide show, from the vision of Sirius being tortured during his O.W.L exam, to his impromptu duel with the dark Lord Voldemort, it had been a very trying day indeed. The highlight of the day for the young wizard had been watching the death of his godfather as he fell through the veil of death, deep in the Department of Mysteries, the very thought of his godfather being gone brought tears to his eyes, as he was the only real family he had left.
At first he blamed himself, for being the epitome of the heroic Gryffindor and running off to the Department of Mysteries half cocked without a plan, intent on saving Sirius, but this logic didn't run its course. Sirius Black died the way he wanted to, not locked up in a dark house that brought nothing but bad memories, but by fighting the minions of the dark lord who had stripped him of his friends and pseudo famil, his death would be avenged ten-fold by a very angry, very powerful godson.
The blame for his death didn't even lie with the death eater, Bellatrix Lestrange who had cast the stunner that sent him through the veil, as it was a semi-friendly duel between 'family' using non-lethal spells. The blame belonged nearly entirely on the shoulders of Lord Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore, both whom had been manipulating the Boy-Who-Lived like a pawn in a game of chess.
Dumbledore had withheld information from him, had ignored him for the entirety of the year and treated him as nothing more than a weapon that could be sheathed until he was ready to wield it and then throw it away. The anger started boiling under the surface despite the calming presence of Fawkes singing softly from its perch on his shoulder. The old man would pay for his manipulations, Harry Potter would no longer be his pawn, would no longer be his weapon, and sure as hell wouldn't be his shield from the evil that lurked in the world. The life of Albus Dumbledore was coming to an end and was going to be ushered out with a cold green glare and a smirk from the boy-who-lived-to-kill.
The boy was broken out of his rather sadistic thoughts as a cool breeze fluttered through the office, and he stared up and gazed upon the object of his hatred. He smiled wickedly and watched as the old man looked around his office in confusion. "Hello Albus, would you like a lemon drop? Perhaps a cup of tea?" he spat mockingly as the headmaster whirled around, taking in the barely contained contempt that radiated off of the boy in front of him.
"Harry, my boy, don't mind if I do" he said brightly, but lacking the usual twinkle in his eyes, ignoring the scathing look that was sent his direction from Harry as he used his first name. Albus twirled his wand in a complex pattern and conjured a brightly colored chintz chair along with a simple but elegant coffee table that contained an unadorned, silver set of teacups and a whistling silver tea kettle, the headmaster poured himself a cup and sat down in the chair and gazed up at his charge.
"Well Harry, you will be happy to know that none of your companions who followed you to the Ministry of Magic tonight will suffer any permanent compli…" he trailed off as these words elicited a feral growl from the young man that was lounging back in his chair. "Where are they Albus?" he growled menacingly.
"Saint Mungos, of your friends, Ms. Granger was the worse off, that purple flame was a heart stopping curse and had it been any more powerful she would not have made it. Mr. Weasley will have permanent scars from the creatures, which attached themselves to him, but nothing more. Everyone else escaped with minor injuries as far as your friends are concerned." The older man answered in a placating manner, obviously trying to get on his weapons good side yet again. "Of The Order of the Phoenix members who came to your aide, Ms. Tonks will spend a week minimum in the hospital, everyone else is fine and resting, except of course…." He trailed off.
"One, Sirius Orion Black, my godfather and confidant" the angry young man sneered and watched in satisfaction as the leader of the so-called 'light' and supposedly the most powerful wizard in the world flinched at his words. "You knew, you knew of the prophecy, you knew the lengths that Voldemort would go to get it, yet you neglected to tell the only person who could do anything about it! Albus, you bloody miserable bastard, I learned more from a death eater tonight than you've told me since I entered the wizarding world! A bloody death eater Albus!" the enraged teen roared in the face of the wizened old man in front of him. Every glass object in the room chose that moment to shatter into thousands of pieces as the waves of pure wild magic lashed out from the lithe body of the angry young man, the portraits who were brave enough to remain in the room after the earlier confrontation ran for cover as the odd, and often ancient objects that adorned the room flew around wildly, slamming into the stone or were simply disintegrated upon contact with such powerful raw magic.
Albus Dumbledore looked on as his entire office was destroyed, oddly noting that all of the silver instruments that tracked the wards he had erected around many different places, including Privet Dr. were missing even before he came into the office. He dropped his head into his hands and wondered how much of a mistake he had truly made, he seemingly lost his only weapon against Lord Voldemort and doomed the side of the light with a simple inaction and breach of trust. This certainly wouldn't do for the power hungry leader of the light and he had no intention of letting his weapon go until after he had won the war. The headmaster looked up and into the glowing eyes of the man in front of him and sighed in resignation, "Yes, Harry, I know of the prophecy you speak of, it is the reason Tom came after you as a child, as well as continues to come after you even now." He turned to a shelf on the opposite side of the room, standing as if to reach for something before his face contorted in abject horror as he saw the remains of his pensive lying on the ground, smashed into several dozen pieces before turning around and glaring momentarily at the young man who simply grinned back as he realized he had destroyed something precious to the headmaster.
"Something wrong, Sir?" the younger wizard spat sarcastically and watched gleefully as the headmaster tried to keep his temper under control, instead opting to stare disappointedly over the top of his half moon glasses at his charge. "I was going to show you the night that the prophecy was told to me, however after your childish temper tantrum has destroyed my pensive, and being a powerful magical artifact, a repairo will simply not suffice" he jabbed, but to no avail as the gleeful one-hundred watt smirk remained on the face of his student.
"Well Sir", he spat, dripping heavily in sarcasm, "perhaps if you we had this conversation several years ago, your precious pensive would still be in perfect shape, gathering dust on the shelf, but I suppose that's not my fault now is it?" he chided but was almost disappointed as this time he didn't get a flinch, but instead a look of anger.
"You were too young!" his voice raising slightly and then becoming more subdued "I wanted you to have a normal childhood my boy, a normal life with your friends" he finished with a sigh and a muttered "I failed".
"Too young! Too young! I've been fighting that twit since I was eleven years old, I know you set me up to train your weapon, the Philosophers Stone, you knew about Quirell. The Chamber of Secrets, you knew about the Basilisk and the chamber itself, but your biggest mistake was my third year," He pulled his feet off the desk and stared straight into the deep blue eyes of the headmaster, the look of shock was apparent and he wondered how long it would take for the older wizard to regain his composure, but yelled to his face "YOU KNEW HE WAS INNOCENT!" his tone changing from a yell to a cold hiss reminiscent of Parseltongue, "You are the one that pushed for no trial, no veritaserum, you knew I would end up with him as a guardian and that would have put your pawn too far out of reach. You are the most influential wizard in the whole of Britain and the head of the Wizengamot, and ONLY you or the Minister of Magic could push for Azkaban without a trial. You, Albus sacrificed an innocent man to Azkaban knowingly and willingly for your own gain and you then proceeded to once again overstep your bounds, and the bounds of the law and ignore the wishes of my parents and left me with those creatures that I am forced to call aunt and uncle instead of my rightful guardian and you yet again kept it from me, now I want to hear the truth and nothing but. The prophecy, and I do mean now Albus" he finished with a hiss, his tone cold enough to freeze even Promethean fire. The room had physically dropped in temperature by several degrees during his rather long-winded rant.
The twinkle was completely extinguished from the eyes of Albus Dumbledore as he just stared at his charge in shock, millions of thoughts going through his mind at once, the most prevalent of the them was how in the hell did the rash Gryffindor in front of him come to such a logical, Slytherin conclusion without the help of Hermione Granger but he decided to play innocent for the time being and smiled benignly. "Mr. Potter, I don't know how you came to such a conclusion, but I can assure you I did no such thing, and can only ask you to believe an old man when he says that he only has your best interests at heart" he looked him straight in the eye and started to use legilimency to try and decipher where exactly these rather cunning ideas were coming from.
Harry stared into the eyes of his once mentor and felt the slight probing of his mind and inwardly sneered as he conjured a slideshow of images of his childhood beatings from the Dursley's to the surface, looking for a reaction from the wizened old bastard in front of him to judge just how much he knew. The gaze held without even a minor flinch and he finally realized that he did know, he knew that his supposedly favorite student had grown up abused physically, mentally and emotionally and he didn't do a damn thing about it. A snarl escaped his lips as he stared his headmaster down and he gathered as much of his raw magic as he could muster after the night's tiring events and unleashed it down the connection that Albus had created between them. The result was a satisfying, surprised scream from the headmaster as he found himself launched backwards and crumpling against the wall. Gasps were heard from the portraits that had once again braved the office to watch the confrontation, including surprisingly, Headmaster Muldoon who was snickering at the current resident and muttered something about manipulative old bastards.
"Stay out of my head old man, I may not be able to stop an indirect attack through my scar, but I sure as hell can stop a direct attempt without a wand!" he hissed and stood up, allowing Fawkes to keep its balance on his shoulder, walked around the table and stared down at the crumpled form of Albus Dumbledore and kneeled down next to him "Now Albus, the prophecy" he demanded in a voice that left little room for argument.
The dazed headmaster stared up at him and just shook his head in disbelief and in a uncharacteristically weak voice drawled "'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those have thrice defied him…. Born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ', that's the prophecy in its entirety, I have only one request from you Harry, you must stay at your aunt and uncles residence during the summer holidays, there is powerful blood magic that keeps you save near your only living relatives" he finished in a stronger tone of voice. The young man looked contemplative for a moment and nodded reluctantly.
Harry was smirking inwardly as he agreed to go back to Privet Dr., knowing that he would have enough time alone to plan for his own road to freedom from the manipulations of the old man. He sneered in return and sent a mocking wave to the portraits, many of who looked startled while others waved back. He turned to Fawkes on his shoulder and whispered soothingly to the bird and without further warning disappeared in a blinding flash of flames with the beautiful phoenix.
The headmaster stared around in what was left of his office, nearly every possession that had once adorned the office were destroyed or in massive amounts of disarray, he turned to look at the portraits on the wall behind him and watched as many of them tried to stifle their laughter at the predicament he found himself in, he sent a hard glare their way, which made many of them laugh even harder than before. Just as he was going to begin cleaning up his office, he noticed a playing dart protruding from one of the portraits near the door, he pulled it out and looked at in curiosity, not noticing the snort of amusement he received from a specific headmaster on the other side of the room. He shrugged it off, pocketing the dart and sat down. Albus Dumbledore began to contemplate the enigma that was Harry James Potter and the future of his precious 'light'.
