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Corruption: Chapter Two

Midnight. All was quiet at number 4, Privet Drive. The house was dark, save for a solitary light gleaming from a first floor window. There was a pale boy sitting on the windowsill, watching the stars. His lithe and wiry figure gazed up at the stars through the glass, wistfully thinging of somewhere far from there.

This boy was Harry Potter, the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. He hated that name. He hated himself, his so-called 'family', and the magical world that had turned it's back on him. Last year his Godfather had died, and so far all contact he had from 'his world' were words of pity from Ron and Hermione. He had yet to hear from the Old Fool

He snorted at that thought and ran his hand through his hair. It was his fifteenth birthday, and true to his age, he had matured greatly since the beginning of summer. His hair, once scruffy and the cause of much frustration, had grown out. He finally lost his baby hair, and it was now much darker and heavy, falling in a straight, onyx wave to the space between his shoulder blades. His eyes, no longer the bright, naive jade, had darkened to a deep emerald that glowed with inner power.

Though his uncle Vernon was still irritated by his appearance, Harry had become to intimidating for him to even think of trying anything.

Harry had been doing a lot of thinking during the summer. For the most part ignoring the letters from his friends, irritated by their kid gloves, he had spent a lot of time reading his school books. He was almost as avid a reader as Hermione, and he had many books that, if known about, he was sure the Order would not approve. He didn't particularly care what the Order thought, but to be on the safe side, he had kept his secret hobby from them so that he could maintain the image of 'Dumbledore's Golden Boy'. He was a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for. A lot more ambition, too. He smirked to himself. The Hat had probably been right about putting him in Slytherin, but being in Gryffindor gave him a lot more leverage in the magical world.

He glanced down at the letter in his hand, possibly the only letter he had bothered to read all summer : his Hogwarts letter.

Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,


We are pleased to inform you that you have been invited to return for you sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please
find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. We would also like to inform you, that, as of now, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be accepting students from other magical communities around the world, who have shown exceptional skills. Our first transfer will arrive in September and be sorted with the first years. We would like to remind you that, as a student, you represent the school, and are expected to be polite and welcoming to the new student.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress

Harry was decidedly pleased to hear that there was going to be a transfer student. He hoped it would make this year more interesting for him. Also, being from a different country, he could probably learn many new spells from the newcomer. He smiled. This was going to be profitable.

Harry was startled from his musings by a loud thud! Without making a sound, he was suddenly across his room, slowly opening the door with his wand.looking up and down the landing, he decided all was clear and crept out and down the stairs. Reaching the living room, he smiled then relaxed.

"Alright, Moody, you can come out now."

The wall beside the TV jumped slightly, then someone whispered finite incantatum and Moody came into view. His face was screwed up in a puzzled frown, making the scars contort in odd ways, and making him seem all the more hideous.

"How did ye do that, kid?"

Harry smiled mysteriously.

"I have my ways. Now. As far as I know, the wizarding world is not nocturnal, and yet it is midnight and you are in my living room. What, and why?"

Moody frowned even more. "Didn't ye get the letter? We said we would send someone to pick you up on your birthday."

Harry blinked, and then looked rather sheepish. "I, uh, haven't been reading my letters. They always seemed to say the same thing. My apologies."

Moody nodded sagely. With a wave of his wand, Harry's belongings were packed and downstairs ready to go. He scrawled a note on a spare piece of paper, put on the table, and, levitating Harry's trunks. he ushered Harry out of the door before him. As they were leaving, Harry felt a familiar movement behind him, and then a twinge of magic as Moody said finite incantatum to little effect.

"Moody? What-"

"Nothing, kid. Let's get going, before anyone notices you're out in the open."

As they walked out into the night, Moody observed the teen in front of him with suspicion. If that truly was Harry, and he wasn't under a spell of any kind, then why did he seem so different? Something had changed, that was for sure. Harry never used to be so well spoken.

Oh well, he thought. Stranger things have happened.

The door at number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, slammed shut behind the pair. Mrs. Black awoke with a great shriek, and began to rant. Harry looked up at her with a mild stare.

"Oh, do shut up." He said.

Mrs. Black stopped in shock at the frankness with which those words were said. The halfblood in front of her was looking up at her with one eyebrow raised. "Are you quite finished?" he said, "Yes? Good." And with that, he closed her curtains with a brusque air of finality. He turned to Moody. "Shall we?" he asked, before strolling towards the kitchen.

Moody stood in shock. There was certainly something different about the kid.

As Harry entered the kitchen, Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin were sitting discussing something at the table. From the sounds of it, it was him. They looked up as the door opened. Molly smiled at him, hugging him and sitting him down with food and drink, and Lupin proceeded to ask about his summer. However, Harry could tell this was a front. In their eyes, there was a mixture of pity and fear for him. He internally shook his head. He should have expected that. He'd better get used to it too - everyone was going to be like that, especially Ron and Hermione.

Outwardly, he responded to their questions politely and in kind. However, they couldn't help but have trouble deciding whether Harry was being genuine, or whether he was being slightly sarcastic with them. Had it been anyone else, they would have sworn he was making fun of them. But this was the Harry Potter, the pride of the wizarding world. Good little Harry would never do anything like that.

According to what Moody and Remus were prepared to tell him, from what he could gather Hermione wasn't coming to Grimmauld place, and Ron, Ginny and the twins had gone back to Romania with Charlie for a holiday. Perfect. That meant he could explore The house without anyone constantly nagging him. He was sure he'd find lots of interesting books.

Pulling himself back to the real world, he excused himself on the pretext of going to bed. After saying his goodnights, he began to climb the stairs. Reaching his usual bedroom, he noticed that his luggage was already there. He closed the door, sat down and crossed his legs on the floor. concentrating on his hearing, he dipped into his magical centre.

He had first done this in Privet Drive. He had been curious after reading a theory on the origin of magic. It said that everyone had a magical centre, a well of sorts, but only witches and wizards are born with the ability to access this core. If you concentrated, you could find the magic within yourself and access more than you would instinctually. The theory stated that you could use this extra power to augment certain aspects of your body, such as your speed or your hearing.

This is what Harry was doing now. He drew out a small amount of power and mentally directed it towards his ears.

"--patrol now. Just because he's here doesn't mean I can shirk of from my duty. Evening Molly, Remus."

Harry heard Moody's footsteps retreat towards the door, and the light click as the door closed and locked itself behind him. He smiled. No more magical eye! He was now free to roam the house as he felt like.

He got to his feet and began to rummage through his bag. after a while the door opened and closed gently. The room was empty.

Harry smiled beneath the invisibility cloak, as he made his way up the stairs to the top floor library he knew was there.

This was going to be an interesting summer.

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