Chapter Nineteen- Control
Letting the door bang behind him, Harry increased his pace, and made his way out the first exit the school offered.
Making his way along the edge of the castle, Harry skirted around the Quidditch Pitch, ducking into shadows to avoid any other people who came by. In short order, he found himself clear of the green lawn of the grounds, and in the shade of the Dark Forest.
Once he was unable to see any of Hogwarts through the trees, Harry slowed to a walk, sighing heavily. Rebuking himself over his reactions to both Malfoy's and Snape's taunts, he stepped through the trees, following the path he'd made during the last week. Though he kept his senses heightened for danger, Harry moved nearly unseeingly along the familiar area.
Finally reaching a small and densely contained clearing, Harry slipped into it. He wandlessly invoked several wards, and allowed his guard to drop. Settling in the middle of the grass, he took off the Glamour charm and transfigured his clothes to the uniform he'd first returned to Hogwarts in. Almost immediately he felt more like himself than he had since leaving the other realm.
Dropping his head into his hands, Harry sighed once again. What in Myrddin's name was that? he questioned himself. I thought I'd bloody well controlled my damn emotions! Commander Volsunis would have my neck. The thought of the one who had taught him so much had Harry groaning into his hands.
Harry pulled his head up and glanced at the bright sky through the dark leaves of the trees. The sun almost gave him a spotlight, where he sat. Unused to the feeling of being so exposed, Harry shifted distractedly, then stood up.
Looking down at his forearms, bare except for his gauntlets, memories ran over him. Fighting Death Eaters as they attacked . . . clawing at his manacles in a dank cell . . . tensing as an overwhelming rush of power flowed out of him, towards a shocked room of his tormentors . . . learning to wield a blade, as a strap lashed across his arms whenever he made a mistake . . . blood running over his hands, staining them as he gripped the first sword he'd ever taken a life with . . . blood again streaming over his hands, though from his own wrists . . .
Every image lanced against the carefully maintained calm, the studiously cultivated detachment. Hating that the very thing that had nearly killed him so many times was now the thing gripping him, Harry clenched his jaw and closed his eyes to stem the emotions.
The grass at his feet lit afire, the flames blazing outwards across the clearing. With a shout, Harry released his pulsing magic against his own wards, flinging surge after surge of power. It was never enough to rip open portals, as in Riddle's manor, but it was near it. The air rippled and throbbed, as the ground around him burned. Only the very wards he was striking kept it all from piercing through the forest circling him.
His eyes snapping open, Harry was unaware that they were glowing with power, the green flashing fire. What he felt was the distinct pounding originating at his scar and flowing through his head. Dimly, Harry registered that he'd never had to deal with this when he had lost control in the other realm.
His power expended, Harry gasped as darkness cloaked him. The wards collapsed, and the fire around him died out, leaving a charred circle. Harry attempted to keep conscious as he fell to the ground, but it was a losing battle. With a release of breath, he succumbed to the dark.
Harry woke abruptly, swallowing a pained moan. Taking in the sense of the room around him, he relaxed slightly upon noticing the signature feel of Hogwarts. Carefully, Harry opened his eyes, grimacing against the bright light assailing his vision.
A muttered word spoken beside him had the lights dimmed, and Harry focussed his gaze at the person. Blue eyes, with their usual twinkle notably muted, stared back at him. Harry tried to sit up, but lay back when a wizened hand pushed his chest down gently.
"Good to see you awake, my boy," said Dumbledore, as he removed his hand and leaned against the back of his chair.
As Harry grinned slightly, he noticed that he was in the headmaster's library, the same one he'd been in after Tom's visit. Looking around briefly, Harry was startled to see the Potions master standing in the shadows near the door. Glancing down at himself, Harry was glad to see that he wore his Hogwarts' uniform, though he had no memory of re-transfiguring his clothes. Locking eyes with Dumbledore's, Harry raised his eyebrow in question.
Nodding, Albus smiled. "I found you behind the Quidditch Pitch a short time ago, Harry. Your scar was bleeding, which was worrisome, but I assumed you were having a vision, so I brought you here. I called Professor Snape to bring some potions that I thought you might have need of."
With that, Snape walked over to the other wizards and laid a collection of vials on the table. "If that is all, Headmaster?"
"Actually, no, Severus," replied Albus. "I will need to speak to you in a moment. Would you kindly wait in my office?"
Looking as though he never wished to do anything kindly, Snape nodded curtly and stalked out of the room. Shutting the door with a flick of his hand, Albus turned back to Harry, looking him over appraisingly. He noted that the boy was shaking slightly, and was still much too pale, though he looked much improved to when Albus had found him.
"How are you feeling, now, my boy?" he asked.
"Truthfully? Like the castle fell on me," Harry replied, forcing himself to a sitting position even though the headmaster protested. Once he finally managed it, he said, "I'll be all right, though."
Palming a vial of green liquid, Dumbledore handed it to the younger wizard. "This should help the after-effects of the Cruciatus that you seem to be suffering from."
Deliberately stilling his shaking hands, Harry quirked a light smile and took the potion. "Gratias."
"You're welcome," Albus answered in an amused tone. "Now, I, of course, did not find you anywhere near the Pitch. Rather, after Hogwarts informed me that you had gone into the Forest and that there had then been a disturbance within it, I went to locate you. Imagine my surprise when I came upon you thrashing on the ground in the middle of what very well could have been a battle scene."
"I apologize, Headmaster," Harry murmured, a slight flush helping to return his colour to normal. "I was, well, rather . . . upset, and decided to lash out. Unfortunately, apparently that allowed my connection with Riddle to flare. I was pulled into his mind, but I don't think he was aware of it. He'd felt my stronger emotions, as I seem to do his, but didn't sense me in his mind."
Albus raised an eyebrow. "You are certain? Do you have any idea as to why that was?"
"No, Headmaster, other than our connection is more malleable than even he knew," Harry responded. "Given a way to, perhaps, study it, I may be able to manipulate it much the way Riddle does."
"That could very well kill you," Dumbledore stated, his gaze piercing into Harry's.
Harry nodded. "And yet, it may be the way to destroy him."
Silence took the office for several moments, allowing Harry the time he needed to recover, and Albus a chance to think the situation through. The headmaster was of course interested in what the younger wizard's bond with Voldemort could offer, but was worried. The Dark Lord could make another attempt on Harry's life, but that was only one side-effect of it.
Harry's colour had returned and his shaking had completely diminished, much quicker than was usual for someone, but it didn't change the fact that he had somehow felt the Cruciatus Curse. Enough of that would render anyone quite at a disadvantage, no matter what their physical condition may be. Albus wasn't sure everything Harry had gone through or studied, but he found himself strongly hoping that the boy knew enough to deal with what might come.
"Now, my boy," Albus said, effectively breaking the quiet. "Is there anything you could tell me of what you may have seen during your little visit to Voldemort's consciousness?"
"Only that he was rather unhappy with several of his followers," answered Harry with a wry grin. "Our link allows me not only to feel what his victims feel, though I have no understanding of why that is, but also what he feels as he casts spells. Tom was angry." Harry shook his head. "Although, by what I noticed, I believe my . . . state of displeasure had fed his somewhat. He must not have noticed that, because I would think my being upset would improve his mood quite a lot."
"Yes, I do believe you're right, Harry," Dumbledore replied.
Harry went on before the headmaster could ask the next question, his tone darkening. "As to what had happened to make him furious, I only caught a little of it. It seems that his little Death Eaters failed to retrieve something necessary to an object he is making. It involves a ritual of some type, but I didn't see or hear anything else. I do not know what the object even looks like."
"I'm sure we'll find out in time," stated Albus in a dry voice. With a chuckle, he then gestured for them to stand. "I do believe we should go into my office, as we have no doubt left Professor Snape in a dreadful mood, forcing him to wait."
Harry snorted softly, following the headmaster out of the room. As they entered, Snape glared at first toward the headmaster, then turned a downright vicious scowl on Harry. As that was in no way unexpected, given their last interaction, Harry merely found himself amused. Snape seemed to notice this, as his black eyes darkened more than normal, then he turned back to Dumbledore. Though he remained sitting in a chair before the desk as they walked over, the Potions master's entire body was extremely tense.
"Severus, thank you for waiting." Albus sat in his chair, summoning a teapot and cups. "Tea?"
"No. Thank you," Snape bit out, his lip curling as Harry took the seat next to him. "Was there something you wished to speak to me about, Headmaster?"
"Yes, there was," Albus said, then paused to take a drink from his cup. Finally, he sat it back in its saucer after a long swallow. "I believe you wished to make a report of the incident between Mr Potter, here, and Mr Malfoy."
Severus smirked. "Yes. Mr Potter deliberately and consciously assaulted Mr Malfoy. Had he not . . . disappeared, to the Quidditch Pitch, as you said," the Potions master's tone was utterly disgusted, "he would have already received a punishment for his unacceptable actions."
Harry swallowed his immediate rejoinder, almost thanking the fact that he was tired, as it made him think twice before speaking. "Professor, with all due respect, I was reacting to an attack by Malfoy, that is all."
"Childish comments are not an attack, Mr Potter," Snape scathed. "You would do well to remember that."
"His commentshad nothing to do with being childish, sir," responded Harry, even as he forced himself calm. "And I know very well what an attack is. I would call drawing a wand an issue of challenge."
"I never saw Mr Malfoy draw his wand, yet I couldn't blame him if he had, after your retort."
Harry's eyes flashed, although he only allowed a sardonic chuckle to pass his lips. "My retort? Funny, I could have sworn Malfoy had clearly shot out several statements before I even turned around."
"All I know, Mr Potter," stated Snape, "is that you injured a student, while blocking a professor from reaching you."
"I had nothing to do with that shield, and I didn't even break his blasted wrist," Harry said through a clenched jaw. "I assure you he deserved what he received."
"Clearly nothing Mr Malfoy was alluding to diminished your ever present arrogance," Snape hissed in a cruel whisper.
Harry had been studiously staring straight ahead to avoid getting enraged, but at that he found himself out of his chair and spinning toward the Potions master. Before he could advance, a streak of blue light from Dumbledore's wand caught him around the waist, forcing him back in his chair. Looking to the headmaster, he saw the older man turn a slashing glare on Snape.
"Severus Snape, mind your tongue," Albus reproached. "You speak of control, yet you seem to have no standard for yourself. Did you forget how to think before speaking?"
Abruptly Snape stood, and turning on his heel, strode for the door. Dumbledore closed his eyes in frustration, then flicked his hand to lock the office. When the door refused to open, Snape spun back toward them.
"Was there something else, Headmaster?" he asked in a deadly calm voice.
Albus fixed his blue eyes on black. "Remember yourself, Severus. Now, if you are finished with your report, I will deal with Mr Potter. You may go." The headmaster unlocked the door. "But do not insult another when you have done worse than they."
The door slammed as Snape stormed out, resounding through the office, much to the indignation of the portraits on the wall. As they muttered to one another, Albus released the bounding he had maintained around Harry. Looking the younger wizard over, he would have not noticed anything had just occurred had he not been present. The mask that Albus had seen Harry adopt several times in the short time he'd been back was firmly in place.
"I should apologize for Professor Snape," Albus began, but Harry cut him off with the shake of his head.
"Do not bother, Headmaster. It doesn't matter," replied Harry, his green gaze steady, if blank of emotion. "There is no love lost on either of our parts."
"Yes, well, remember that you both are on the same side, my boy," the headmaster said softly.
"Of course, Headmaster."
Shortly thereafter, Harry walked through Hogwarts' halls, having been dismissed from the headmaster's office. Though the older wizard had told him to better control his outbursts, he'd received no punishment for the altercation with Malfoy. Harry was thankful that Snape hadn't told of his actions in the Potions professor's office, but could only think that the Potions master did not want anyone to know that he'd been thrown around by his student.
Smirking, Harry made his way to the Great Hall. As Dumbledore had told him, it was now dinnertime. Apparently his jaunt to the forest had knocked him out most of the afternoon, and it had taken quite a while for him to wake after the vision was done when the headmaster had brought him in.
As he reached the Hall doors, Harry pulled up short. For a moment, he stared at the wood in front of him. Then with a sigh, he pushed them both open, and strode in, intent on playing up his entrance. Might as well have a little fun, he thought snidely as he plastered a smile on his lips.
The reaction he garnered this time was a polar opposite to the last time he'd shown up unexpectedly. Slight yells rang out as the doors startled several people, but as Harry walked calmly up the path between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, the room fell silent. From the looks he received, he knew that the story of his and Malfoy's fight had gotten around the school.
By sauntering in like he had, the other students had no idea how to react, and Harry further unbalanced them by seeming completely unaffected by the quiet. He noticed Sirius and Remus staring at him, and fought the urge to shake his head. Hissing whispers broke out as he neared the middle of the Gryffindor table, not quite low enough not to be heard.
"He's dangerous, I tell you. Insane."
"Did you hear what Malfoy said about him and You-Know-Who?"
"Do you suppose the rumours are true?"
"It was wicked what he did to that little git of a Slytherin. Brilliant."
Harry raised his brow at the last, though he ignored the other murmurs. As he neared the group of seventh year Gryffindors, he realized that Ron was telling the story to the others, but the redhead cut off mid-sentence when he noticed Harry. Quirking a quick smile, Harry turned to the others to gauge their reactions.
Across the table, Seamus was staring everywhere but at him, and Dean didn't seem to know whether it was safe to look at him or not. Neville huffed at their attitudes and scooted over on the bench to make room, nudging Ginny over slightly. Harry nodded his thanks, and the other boy flashed a grin.
As he sat down, he looked at Hermione, who sat to his right. For a moment she merely watched him back, then shaking her head, gave a tremulous smile and finally broke the silence.
"Harry, where have you been?" she asked. "You had us worried."
Harry gave another small smile. "Sorry. I was with the headmaster."
"Did you get in trouble? For the thing with, er, Malfoy?" questioned Neville, his fork half-way to his mouth.
"Not really," Harry replied, glancing down at the plate that appeared before him.
"Good. That arse deserves whatever he gets," Neville stated firmly.
Harry glanced at the other boy with a chuckle as Hermione exclaimed, "Neville!"
"What? You know Malfoy's a git. You've said so yourself," Ginny stated, reaching in front of Neville for a platter of chicken. "Hey there, Harry."
"Hi, Ginny," Harry said, then smirked. "What's this about Hermione using negative language about someone?"
As the brunette flushed and several of those listening around them sniggered, the atmosphere of the Hall loosened. Conversations rose across the tables once more, and although Harry knew most were about him, he ignored it. For the rest of the meal he fielded any questions he needed to, but no one asked about Malfoy's comments. It seemed that beyond a couple people giving their appreciation of his trouncing the Slytherin, none would bring up anything else about it. Harry was glad for that, even if it was apparent that they were saying things behind his back.
Students slowly left the Hall as they finished their dinners, and eventually Harry and those around him rose to do the same. Both Seamus and Dean took off quickly, but Harry's attention was drawn to Hermione when she called him.
"Yes, Hermione?" questioned Harry, waving Neville and Ginny ahead when Hermione stopped. Ron followed them without looking at Harry. "Hermione. Why did you bring your knapsack to dinner?"
Hermione was riffling through her bag. "I brought this to dinner because I was at the library before the meal." She straightened, pulling out a thick scroll. "Here, I made you a copy of my notes from the double period of History of Magic that you missed. Didn't want to forget to give it to you. I had it ready for in case, er, when you got back."
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, smiling at her slip. She shrugged and handed him the heavy roll of parchment. "Er, these are the notes from one class?"
"Of course," she replied, closing her bag and shouldering it. She seemed to stagger slightly under the weight. "Now, don't you have detention?"
Just as he was about to nod, Sirius came bounding up to him from the Head Table. "Harry! Where were you? You wouldn't believe all the things I've heard."
Harry flashed Hermione a grimace, to which she grinned. Looking back, he said, "Hey, Sirius. Sorry about that, I was with the headmaster."
"All afternoon? Harry, I was worried sick!" Sirius exclaimed. "I mean, I even checked with Dumbledore, and all he said was not to worry! What the hell happened with Malfoy? I couldn't get a straight answer from anyone."
Harry glanced toward Hermione, who bit her lip. Turning back to his godfather, he was saved from answering when Remus came up and laid a hand on Sirius' arm.
"Hello, Harry," Remus said mildly. "How are you?"
"Fine, Remus, thank you," replied Harry.
"Good, now, Sirius, we need to grade those essays, you know," Remus stated, looking at his partner. When Sirius made to protest, Remus smiled at Harry. "I'm sure you have somewhere to be. Why don't you come by our office tomorrow after class?"
When Harry agreed, Remus pulled Sirius away, leading him out of the hall. Harry quickly followed through the doors, bid Hermione goodbye, and turned to the dungeons. He made it to the Potions classroom in record time, and walked through the open door. Snape stepped out of the shadows with his sneer in place.
"Well, well, Mr Potter, so good of you to make it."
A/N: Hope you all are enjoying, and thanks for reading! I give a witches oath to update more often!
Thank you to every one who reviews. I truly appreciate knowing what is thought of my story. I have been told by a few anonymous reviewers that my story not only lacks any type of plot, but that my characters are either pathetic or dull. Frankly, if you think so, tell me why (i.e. examples), so I can improve. Otherwise give your smartass remarks to someone else.
Now, those giving either praising reviews or decent critiques, I am entirely grateful. Ignore my comments to others, and know that I write because of you.
Sincerely,
Zenn