Disclaimer: Who thinks I am JK? waits for someone to raise their hand Who thinks that someone would pay for this story even if I would take money which I don't? waits for answer again Who thinks that I've written more than enough disclaimers already? waits for answer again
Author's note: I'm leaving this update for Juan so he can laugh his head off a little more tonight!
Chapter five
The next day came without any remarkable events in between dinner of the former day and breakfast of the new day, which was remarkable anyway, because it hadn't taken Harry as long as this to get into trouble ever before.
As he, Ginny, Hermione and Ron took their seats by the Gryffindor table everything seemed to be calm and nice, except for the fact that Lord Voldemort was sitting among the teachers, but they would have to get used to this.
Not much later Professor McGonagall came to hand their new schedules out.
Harry noticed at the first sight that something couldn't be right with his immediately. It might have been his perfectly trained senses, his really stunning intelligence, or simply the fact that there were no other lessons than DADA on the schedule which told him that something was wrong.
"Professor… or Headmistress… however… what's wrong with this?" he asked finally and held the sheet under Minerva's nose.
She sighed: "We thought that it might be a good idea if you spent much time with… I meant in DADA lessons, you… er… might find it useful some time!"
Harry frowned: "You are basically saying that no DADA teacher survived longer than a year with me as a student and you want this to go on with Professor You-Know-Who?"
"No!" Minerva claimed "We would never ever use a STUDENT for any very very dangerous things like this…"
"I haven't noticed this the last few years!" Harry murmured but went back to his seat right afterwards.
Not all too much later Harry had to go to his first lesson, which was, SURPRISINGLY, a DADA lesson.
And the worst was that it was a first years DADA lesson, but it wasn't all too bad thinking that the teachers (except for Lupin in their third year) had never taught them all too much, so it might be nice to redo some things, or so Harry thought.
He could have kicked himself for this thought as soon as Professor He-Who-Must-Not-be-named entered the classroom.
All the first years (plus Harry of course) stood up and greeted their new teacher, but it was quite obvious that they weren't sure of what to call him.
Everyone said: "Good morning…" but then some added "Professor You-Know-Who" some decided to say: "Professor He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" there were even some who dared to name him: "Professor Dark Lord" and very few said: "Professor Voldemort" only Harry stood up and said "Hey Voldy!"
The Professor however nodded and went to his desk. "I think I should clear some things!" he stated in a neutral tone, "First, HEY KIDS!"
Harry frowned, if this was going to be any more ridiculous, then he was sure to faint from insanity overload.
"Then, as for my name, please, just call me Professor Riddle… it sounds cool, doesn't it?"
Some students whistled innocently, some coughed embarrassed but no one dared to make eye contact with the Professor.
Voldemort stood up and pointed his wand at the students as if he was about to hex them all but then he sat again and murmured: "Sorry, fell back into old patterns!"
There were a few seconds when no one spoke but then he chose to continue the talk: "Did you know that I wanted to call myself He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-Tommy-Tom-Tom first? Only my PR people thought that it would be a very bad idea to tell everyone what I didn't want to be called!"
Harry already felt close to fainting. He had no idea of how much insanity there was still to come.
"And You-Know-Who was planned to be my name if I had managed to make career as a gangster rapper! Luckily Harry already found out what Lord Voldemort meant so I don't need to explain this again, all of you surely read that book! IF YOU DIDN'T… DO NOW!"
With a wink to Harry he added: "I get ten percent of every sold book!"
"TEN PERCENT?" someone exclaimed because they couldn't believe it.
"Yes, but that's only about thirty pages of each book…"
Harry felt unable of thinking over this anyway and so he just nodded.
"Anyway, I would like to go back to Tom Riddle now, because it simply is easiest to spell, you see, I always take too much time writing out or even saying my name, so you can just call me Professor Riddle!"
The first years needed a few moments to let this sink in but then they nodded and chorused: "Professor Riddle…" which seemed to please Lord Voldemort quite a l…
"It seems someone didn't listen to me!"
As it was obvious that Professor RIDDLE had noticed that narrators mistake, who decided to be more careful with the way of telling from that moment on, but probably she would forget about this within a chapter and go back to calling him other names again, which shouldn't be the topic now because it really hasn't anything to do with the story itself.
"If she's going on like this, she'll be flamed again in no time!" Harry murmured.
Suddenly something fell off the ceiling and hit Harry's head, who learned the hard way that one should never upset the narrator.
Lord Vol… I meant, Professor Riddle went on talking about Dark Arts in the meantime, but because this isn't really relevant for the story, neither does the writer know anything about Dark Arts, we can just leave this part aside and concentrate on Harry.
He moved around on his chair feeling rather uneasy murmuring: "I feel watched!" all the time.
This however finally gave Harry the rest and so he just fainted without giving any further reasons.
It took the Professor about forty minutes to notice that this had happened however but when he finally saw that Harry didn't move anymore, he sent some students to the hospital wing. The only problem was that he forgot to tell them to take Harry along.
Riddle sighed exaggeratedly and put a spell on Harry to have him float to the hospital wing.