Disclaimer: I don't own, nor do I want to own, Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns them. I've no intention of making any profit off of this, it's merely used to satisfy my desire to write and possibly to amuse you, the reader, though you can pay me if you want. Song Lyrics from Disarm belong to The Smashing Pumpkins or Billy Corgan, not sure who.
Warning: This will be R and will contain *SLASH* You don't like it, don't read.
Summary: Harry returned to Hogwarts after six years of self exile into the Muggle World and the defeat of Voldemort.
AN: *mutterings* Stupid snow. Stupid head-cold. Stupid math with its reciprocal of the square rooted imaginary number multiplied by itself to equal the complex conjugate of z. I loath math today, even more than that illness and that long walk home through the two feet of snow in the park.
Fortunately for me I checked my e-mail after doing the stupid math homework. After one day I've gotten twenty reviews! Twenty reviews for 879 words (FF.net always gets the word count wrong. Said this originally had 2000 some odd words)! I was speechless.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or stroked my ego. Very much appreciated. Guess my little plea in the prologue worked.
Most common demands made were for me to explain the past six years and to explain Dumbledore's connection; that and to make the chapters longer. I have every intention of doing those things. The prologue was short because… for some reason I always make the prologue short. Rest of the chapters should be at least 2000 words.
Please proceed and enjoy.
_.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._
Chapter I Flashback
Disarm you with a smile
Cut you like you want me too
Cut that little child
Inside of me and such a part of you
I used to be a little boy
So old in my shoes
And what I choose is my choice
What's a boy supposed to do
The killer in me is the killer in you
My love - I send a smile over to you
Disarm you with a smile
And leave you like they left me here
To wither in denial
The bitterness of one who's left alone
I used to be a little boy
So old in my shoes
And what I choose is my voice
What's a boy supposed to do
The killer in me is the killer in you
My love - I send this smile over to you
The killer in me is the killer in you
_.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._
Sitting in the cabin brought back fond memories of my own years at Hogwarts, such as playing Quidditch, the Christmas holidays and simply annoying our beloved potions professor Severus Snape. I smiled at these, but the train also reminded me of the less than fond circumstances at which I had left the school at age eighteen as well as the events that had led me to go there again.
I closed my eyes and let all of these memories wash over me…
_.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._Flashback_.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._
I watched in complete horror as the owl flew away from the window ledge, satisfied that it had delivered its message into the proper hands. It meant that after six years that had finally found me. Six years of going through great pains to avoid my past life all for naught.
Oh yeah, you've got it right. The-Boy-Who-Lived, Voldemort's Conqueror, The Saviour of the Wizarding World, one Harold James Potter, had run away.
Where was that great Griffindor spirit now?
Amazing how six years could make one sound like the dour potions master we all loved to hate.
Of course, no one called me Harry Potter any more. I'd gone through all of the legal Muggle methods to have that changed. My name was now Ethan James, an odd tribute to my parents who died to protect me.
Ethan James, the one-eyed drummer for the indie band 6' Cold.
Yep. Harry Potter was a member of an Alt. Rock band, and he'd managed to lose his right eye in the last battle against Voldemort.
No one knew that last bit of information though. No one except Albus…
He'd been the one to find me after Voldemort's death. He'd been the one to patch me up until he could get me to Poppy.
I'd slipped away before he'd had the chance. Just disappeared into the night. I don't even know how I did it, but I managed to stumble, a bloody and mangled mess, into a Muggle emergency room. Weren't they surprised to see me there; a teenage boy without any ID or family in near critical condition with no idea what had happened to me.
I did manage to remember how I had lost that eye, however.
When I'd tried to perform that final, Unforgivable curse, my wand shattered. Several pieces had imbedded themselves into my hand, but the largest had flown up into my face. It hit me across my right eye, but the impact had crushed it and left a scar running across the now empty socket.
At the hospital they'd asked me if I'd wanted a glass eye. I said Hell no! Ever practical, I'd rather not have it staring one way while I looked the other. I remembered an English teacher I'd had before being accepted at Hogwarts who'd had a glass eye, and while he was incredibly kind, I couldn't help but be uncomfortable around him because one could never tell which way he was staring.
Instead, they stuffed it with something else so the socket could cave in and stitched it up, leaving a scar even more grotesque than it would have been before.
I can't remember much else from that final battle. It was all a blur that I'd rather forget. The only prominent memory was that of losing my eye.
Afterwards, I obtained my birth certificate, social security number and drivers licence from dear Uncle. He and his family had been much kinder once I'd graduated and was no longer deemed an underage wizard. They'd kept many things safe for me and had been a safe house for me several times in the last year before Voldemort's demise.
Another precaution I'd taken in that year was to have nearly half of my money converted into Muggle funds in case I needed to hide in the Muggle world for an extended period of time. It was at Albus' insistence, and I was glad I had. His foresight helped me get a job, a roommate and a place to live, as well as a place in 6' Cold.
After that, I lived very much like a young Muggle Man, or as well as I could, considering I couldn't resist the urge to perform simple acts of magic; a heating charm here, a summoning spell there. All of this enhanced by my new found ability to perform magic despite the lack of a wand. It seemed magical energies could be channelled through nearly anything, even the wizard himself, though it left him exhausted. A wand simply made it so much easier, and since I didn't have one…
There was one other thing I desired in my new life, though. I was in desperate need to find something to appeal to that extreme sense of discipline Severus Snape had instilled in all of his students, whether they desired it or not.
Until my final year, potions had never been one of my favourite courses. During seventh year, however, Albus thought a private tutor in the Defence Against the Dark Arts would be useful. The teacher? Severus of course, and while he did like DADA, his first love would always be potions, hence I learned various poisons, antidotes and anything else in his field that could be remotely related to DADA..
In addition to that I was taught several Dark Arts that didn't require sacrifice and the counter spells. While rumours that he desired the DADA position had been fabricated to make him seem the power hungry Death Eater he was supposed to portray, it didn't mean that he wasn't completely qualified in teaching it.
Oddly, aside from Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Lupin, Severus was my fondest memory from Hogwarts. Between the utter praise and dependency others bestowed upon me, Severus had helped me stay grounded. Once he understood that I did not enjoy the life I was forced to live, we both discovered we had more than a little in common, and while he didn't enjoy hearing that the Sorting Hat had wanted to place me in Slytherin, it was he who kept me from being swept away by what other people thought I should do. The other four were the ones who kept me from being swept away by complete and utter despair…
…but back to my life after Hogwarts.
I had come to enjoy potions, so it was only natural that I took up cooking. It employed the exact same concepts and methods, and while not quite as rewarding, my roommate certainly enjoyed it… except when I made him try my various concoctions. There would occasionally be several wrong dishes before I got it the way I wanted it.
My life was good now. I was able to forget for more than an hour at a time the things I had had to do.
It all came flashing back when I picked up the envelop and read the bright green text. My address was printed neatly in the centre, the return address, Hogwarts.
As much as I wanted to rip the letter into bits without reading it and burn the pieces, I knew it would only get worse if I didn't read it. I remembered the days leading up to my eleventh birthday.
Ah, fond memories there.
I opened the letter hesitantly and began to read.
Mr. Ethan James:
In two months, as you well know, another year will begin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and as I'm sure you know, there will be several new positions opening.
I'm sure you are also aware that certain positions are believed to be cursed, seeing as how none have remained more than a year for the past fifteen years.
Word has reached me through the Ministry of Magic that you are a wizard with reputable skill in the Defence Against the Dark Arts, as well as several other areas.
Since I am certain you will not be daunted by the prospect of the curse, I will inquire as to whether or not you would be interested in this position for the following year.
If you are so interested, please contact me and we can discus terms such as salary and other arrangements.
Yours truly,
Albus Dumbledore
Order of Merlin, First Class
Headmaster of Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
I sighed in defeat upon reading this. There was no way I would be able to escape taking on the position.
Albus knew, damn it! He knew where I lived, knew what would happen if he sent owls here. Knew I would be questioned by my friends. Damn it but that man seemed to know everything, and he would give me no choice. I would either have to flee again or accept the inevitable and take on the position for a year.
I fabricated a wonderful lie to tell my friends about going to London to help take a job with old friends to help them out for the year, and they believed me, the poor fools.
I felt soiled for lying to them, but there was no other way.
When I met with Albus before the end of the summer, I swore to him I would not teach more than one year, and he merely gave me that knowing smile.
Damn you Albus, you cunning bastard.
_.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._
I heard a knock on the cabin door and I opened it. The lady with the tray of sweets and pumpkin juice asked me kindly if I wanted anything. Strangely, she was the same woman who'd been there my first year, and she seemed to have not changed at all.
I bought a bottle of butter beer, some pastries, chocolate frogs and Berty Bott's Every Flavoured Beans. I even gave the woman a large tip, and she smiled kindly, in an almost motherly way. It gave me that warm feeling inside, and I finally didn't feel so angry anymore.
I actually started feeling a little happy. I would be going back to Hogwarts, the first home I had ever known. I pushed aside all of my food and smiled as I lay back and closed my eyes, this time letting only the fond memories make themselves known.
…Hermionie and her excessive studying…
…Ron's utter fascination with Quidditch…
…Trying to avoid Filch in the hallways…
…Peeves, that stupid poltergeist that made everyone's life a living hell…
…Snape, that stupid teacher who made everyone's life a living hell, but who had been like a father to me…
…Sirius and his ability to make me laugh even in the hardest of times…
…Lupin and his calming presence, even if he didn't say anything…
…Even Albus, his conniving and his way of never giving you the answer you want but instead the answer to the question you should have asked.
Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. Just one year.
Besides, I could still try and teach myself to play the guitar, something I'd never had the chance to do while living in the Muggle world.
I'm pretty sure I must have fallen asleep with that stupid grin on my face.
_.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._.~*~._
AN: Wow… I did this in one night. Don't ever expect it again. I was just pumped by all of the reviews I got. Keep giving them to me. They're what keep me writing.
Tell me if I should keep writing, if I should quit, if you got that theoretical new dog or if you have any suggestions for improvement.
Thanks again to all who reviewed. Much appreciated.
Now, please click on that nice button in the bottom left. Feed the author!