AN: So a bit of a smaller chapter this time, as I needed to move some things to the next chapter for flow reasons. That said, after next chapter the pacing of the story, which I know is a little slow at the moment, will pick up, as most of the characters and initial development work will be done, which means it's time for things to escalate and for the more noticeable changes and consequences to start kicking off.
So yeah, hope you enjoy, and as always please leave a comment of a review etc. If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to PM me.
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Disclaimer: Surprisingly despite being British, I don't own Harry Potter.
( - )
(Last Time)
From what he could see, his day was going to be pretty shit.
History of Magic which was taught by perhaps the most boring ghost in existence, double Potions which had Snape, the greasiest and nastiest teacher imaginable. That was his morning. His afternoon consisted of Divination for some stupid reason, which meant he'd be stuck with a bat shit crazy drunk for an afternoon, and double Defence Against the Dark Arts with a vile and hideous toad in human form.
Still, he thought, withholding his grimace. He at least had a single free period in the afternoon between Divination and Defence. Which he could hopefully use to re-acquaint himself with the castle, gain access the Room of Requirement, and of course get a head start on putting together some plans for the future.
( - )
Chapter 10
( - )
(With Harry)
History of Magic was commonly regarded by the majority of the students as a complete and utter waste of time, and he was of the same opinion.
Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, had a wheezy, droning voice that was almost guaranteed to cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes, five in warm weather. Worse still, he never varied the form of their lessons, but instead floated at the front of the class and lectured them without pausing while they took notes, or rather, gazed sleepily into space allowing his monotonous voice to wash over them.
The first time around had been bad enough, especially considering most of their curriculum was about one of the many goblin rebellions, giant wars or wizarding battles that had occurred in Britain over the last few centuries. Which in itself wouldn't have been too bad considering the subject matter sounded exciting, or at least on paper. But not with Binns as their teacher. How he managed to make bloody and brutal battles boring, Harry would never know, and unfortunately, he had to suffer through it again.
Still, it could be worse.
It was not as tedious and boring as Azkaban had been.
Nowadays, he was aiming for a more positive frame of mind.
Which was a struggle considering that they had already suffered through nearly an hour of mind-numbing boredom at the hands of Binns.
It had been a dull affair, and had quickly sent his housemates, all save Hermione, slumping onto their desks within the first ten minutes.
But for him, it had also been an opportunity to think and plan, especially since he wasn't too unduly worried about taking notes.
History of Magic, although boring, had never been a difficult subject. It just required skills in rote learning and memorisation. Which was fortunate, as he had mastered that talent long ago. After all, Occulmency like a History of Magic, in an abstract way, also wasn't difficult to learn when one had the right mind-set. Despite the hype some people gave it, all it truly required was a strong will and a bit of concentration to become proficient with it, and then a lot of time and discipline to become a master of the art.
He'd long ago mastered the art, and with it some very useful techniques which came in handy for memorising spells, wand movements, secret passages, aspects of wizarding history, and of course the location of certain secret rooms.
Drumming his fingers along the scarred and pitted surface of the desk as he continued to listen in to Brinns, Harry's gaze drifted to the nearby open window.
The first thing he would need to do would be to brush off the hangers-on, and then head to the Room of Requirement. He needed to practise spellcasting in private to tune up his skills. He also needed some resources, which was something the Room of Requirement had in spades.
After that he would then need to continue to build his new powerbase and social circle, which would include creating something of a cult of personality around himself in order to both protect himself from insidious rumours, and also spread the impressions he wanted spread to the parents of his classmates, and through them to the rest of the wizarding world.
He had plans for that, and this evening when he met back up with his housemates in the common room, he would continue what he had begun at breakfast. His new Gryffindor year mates would be very useful in that regard. His first followers/minions, so to speak.
His gaze shifted to Hermione and Ron at that thought, even as Binns wrapped up the lesson and airily dismissed them.
Where the two of them fit within his plans, he wasn't sure yet.
A large part of him wanted to alienate them, and get them as far away from him as possible.
His memories of their alternate selves still weighed strong on his mind, more so than his memories of the alternate Dean. After all, he had had several run-ins with them over the years, and they had both almost killed him at one point or another after the Dark Lord was vanquished, and he was being hounded.
Another part of him however hated wasting assets. After all, for all they annoyed him they were also loyal, and truly loyal assets took time to coax, lure and secure. If they were as loyal to him as they were to Longbottom in his world, then they could be an invaluable resource going forwards.
His brow furrowed at that thought.
"How would it be," Hermione asked them coldly as they left the classroom for break, even as Binns drifted away through the blackboard, "if I refused to lend you my notes this year?"
Blinking as her strident voice cut through his thoughts, Harry tilted his head innocently to one side, his lips quirking upwards as he rolled his eyes and shared a conspiratory smile with Dean and Lavender. Both of whom, he was happy to see, were waiting on him.
Behind them, he could see Lily, Parvati, Longbottom and Seamus waiting too.
"We'd fail our O.W.L.s," Ron said, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "If you want that on your conscience, Hermione..."
"Well, you'd deserve it," Hermione snapped back. "You don't even try to listen to him, do you?"
"Hey come on, that's a bit harsh, we do listen," Harry said, cutting off Ron's retort, even as he forced a smile. "But some people learn in different ways, Hermione. You know that. Plus, you forget, listening to dry lectures can only take you so far, self-study and studying around the subjects is also important. I mean, we can't just rely on Professor Binns's lectures. Especially considering, his opinion and mind-set is a bit… dated…."
"You mean he's a ghost?" Dean snorted, as Harry joined him and Lavender.
Both Ron and Hermione were trailing behind him. Hermione was frowning, while Ron was grinning, even as he went as far as to nudge Harry in the side with his elbow and share a knowing smile.
"That's not the point, Harry." Hermione objected, her cheeks turning pink.
"Maybe, but the point does remain. Do you trust us, Hermione?" Harry shot back, his lips curling up in a gentle if slightly disarming smile. "You know us, and trust us, don't you?"
"W-What's that got to do with anything?" Hermione stuttered back, her face flushing a deeper pink.
"Well, if you trusted us, you would know we wouldn't ever use you or take you for granted." Harry replied, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're our friend, Hermione, and friends don't use friends. We help each other, sure, but we don't take the piss. Which is why I won't ask to borrow your notes if it makes you uncomfortable. You mean more to me than a good grade."
Ron looked horrified.
Hermione's face was bright pink. "I didn't say I wouldn't let you borrow them."
Harry smiled, "And if you're comfortable with that, then I would be really grateful. In fact, I think if we pool our resources and notes together closer to the time, all of us, we could all ace our OWLS." He gestured around at the rest of his year group as he spoke.
"Everyone?" Hermione blinked, looking around at the others.
The rest of them looked confused too.
"We're all classmates, housemates and friends, aren't we?" Harry asked, looking around at the group of fifth year Gryffindors. "Or at least I count all of you as my friends, even if I don't know some of you as well as I should. But that is all down to me, and my own awkwardness and shyness when school started. Which is something I really want to get better with over the course of the year. Even so, I think of you as my friends, and want the best for you."
Several of those around him smiled, even as others nodded, or looked slightly touched by his words.
All it took was a bit of eye contact as he looked around, and a slight push of euphoria and happiness, and he had them all in agreement with him.
The gentle approach was often the best kind.
Voldemort, once he had drawn his supporters in with honeyed words and false promises, had always ruled through fear and force. He thought that 'might made right', and thought his power and his heritage gave him the right to rule and control others.
Like many dictators throughout time who used the same methods, he had met a violent and bloody end.
Force and power could only take you so far. You could only frighten people so much before they started to fight back. After all, fear often led to anger, and anger led to hate, and hate was a toxic, deadly force.
He'd seen all this, and had time to mull it over during his incarceration.
Intimidation and threats were a useful tool, but as the old adage went, it was often easier to catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, and that is exactly what he would do. Some kind words here and there, a little bit of leligimency to push the right buttons, and he would carve himself out a comfortable, happy life.
A study group, it sounded stupid and pointless on the surface. Especially considering the utter bullshit he had just trotted out on a whim.
But in the future, with a few tweaks and a bit of organisation, he could make their impromptu study group into something a bit more useful. Longbottom had the right idea with his Dumbledore's Army nonsense, he just lacked the initiative and imagination to build on his idea. He had the foundations for an army, but then abandoned it and let it devolve into an aimless social club for wannabe rebels.
He wouldn't make the same mistake.
"But hey, that's for the future, for now we need to head down to the dungeons for double potions with that greasy old bat, Snape." He rolled his eyes, several of his classmates groaned and rolled their eyes too. "Who wants to bet on how many house points he'll take away this lesson?"
Several of his housemates laughed at that, even as a couple threw out some guesses.
Shaking his head as he walked, Harry led the way to the dungeons, with the rest falling in step alongside and behind him. Ron had noticeably muscled his way to the front, and was laughing with Seamus as they both traded insults about Snape. With both of them often vying for his attention as they tried to make him laugh.
A common enemy or target or ridicule was a useful tool to encourage comradery.
As he led the way, he didn't notice a confused Hermione frown as she trailed along behind him.
( - )
(In the Dungeons)
"Before we begin today's lesson," Severus Snape said, as he swept into the classroom, his black robes billowing about behind him as he strode behind his desk. His dark eyes gleamed in the gloom as he turned and looked over his hooked nose at the assembled students. His expression twisted into a sour scowl as he came to focus on Harry.
Harry withheld a frown of his own.
It appeared that some things never changed.
No matter what world he was in, Snape was still a spiteful prick that hated him for no reason.
"I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions." Snape continued, his eyes boring into Harry for a few moments longer, before he shifted his gaze to Longbottom. "Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my... displeasure."
His gaze continued to linger on Longbottom for a few seconds longer, who gulped.
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on, his lip curling into what some might call a smile. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."
His eyes rested on Harry, his black eyes narrowing.
Harry stared back unbothered, his green eyes locking with Snape's.
When he was a student, Snape had made him nervous and uncomfortable.
But mentally, at least, he was no longer a student.
He still respected the man's skill and power, after all he was very knowledgeable about both Potions and Dark Magic, and was a dynamic and talented duellist.
But he didn't respect him as a person.
He was petty, narrow minded and bitter.
A turncoat, but for all the wrong reasons.
Harry had betrayed both the Order and the Death Eaters for a justifiable reason, or at least justifiable as far as he was concerned.
Snape had done it because he was a deluded, insecure narcissist who was obsessed with Lily Potter.
His mind was so entrenched in the past, and in his own failings, that he was incapable of moving forwards and looking to the future.
Harry was wary of his power, but felt nothing but pity and disgust for him otherwise.
He gave a bad name to other double agents.
Harry couldn't help a faint smile at that thought, he was self-aware enough to realise the irony.
"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," Snape continued softly, looking away from Harry now. "So whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students."
A murmur spread through the class at his words.
Harry smiled wider this time.
He had never been a master brewer, or at least not on the level of some of his more talented classmates like Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy and Terry Boot, but he'd been better than most. Not that being competent at Potion's was hard, after all despite Snape's constant assertions to the contrary, Potions for an average brewer was little more than cooking, in that you just followed the recipe and got the results you needed.
For the more advanced potions, more innovation and intuition was needed, but to scrape at least an Exceeds Expectation in Potions at N.E.W.T. level, all you really needed was a steady hand, a good eye for correct measurements and a basic understanding of timing, and the ability to read, memorise and execute relatively complicated instructions.
Which was good, as it also meant he could just coast by in his Potion's lessons, just like he was planning to do with most of his others. So long as he only had to go through the motions, he could retain a good academic reputation, all while devoting his mind and time to more important things.
Smiling as the class began to get to work on the assigned potion for the class - the Draught of Peace, which Harry knew from past experience was a concoction for soothing anxiety, but which if made poorly or incorrectly, could put the drinker into an irreversible sleep - he moved his cauldron and supplies around, so he was now sitting on the outskirts of his slowly growing social group, between his Gryffindor classmates on one side, and some Slytherins on the other.
A couple of his housemates gave him odd looks at his actions, but raised no issue with it after he shrugged and smiled. With a couple of them sliding their stuff over to join him.
"Hope you don't mind my encroaching on your side, but things were getting a bit crowded, and with the amount of ingredients we need and my own chaotically messy habits, I thought some more space would be appreciated for both my housemates and myself." Harry smiled, his gaze shifting to the pair of Slytherins' working on the other side of him.
One of them was a bored looking brunette with a pixie cut, and hazel eyes. She was quite short, and petit, looking more like a third year or fourth year than a fifth year. Harry wasn't particularly tall, but even he towered over her.
The other girl was closer to his own height, with long blonde hair, light blue eyes and a slightly bemused smile on her face as she glanced over at him. She was attractive enough, though still seemed to be going through her gawky phase as she transitioned to adulthood. She also didn't look too bothered by his presence. Then again, she didn't look too enthused by it either.
He, of course, recognised them both.
The brunette was Travey Davis, a Slytherin Halfblood who he knew had been coerced into joining the Death Eaters during his time.
She had been a fierce fighter and a talented potioneer, and had also been a real boon to the cause, even if she had never been fully appreciated due to her bloodstatus.
Unfortunately, she also hadn't survived the war, and had a particularly nasty death from what he could remember.
The blonde was Daphne Greengrass, a highborn pureblood with a lot of family money and connections, and a penchant for getting in over her head. From what Tracey had told him, she was somewhat of a high minded idealist with good intentions and a high intellect, but little to no common sense.
From what he had heard, she and her family had been slaughtered early on in the war after her father had refused to serve the Dark Lord, with him instead trusting in his pedigree and family money to keep him safe.
It hadn't.
Turns out, fiendfyre burnt purebloods just as easily as it burnt muggles and mudbloods.
Which was a shame as he had fancied her from afar back in the day.
"So you instead decided to invade our space?" Tracey asked, with a raised brow.
"Invade, that's a bit of a strong word for it, I'd say it was more of a diplomatic expedition." Harry replied.
"Uh huh, from what I've heard, diplomacy is not a word that would suit you, Potter," Daphne cut in, her lips curling into a slight smile.
"Oh, I wouldn't put much stock in what you've heard. Like with all things surrounding me, it tends to be bullshit." Harry replied easily, flicking his wand out as he used it to wordlessly light a fire under his cauldron.
Both girls looked momentarily surprised at his use of nonverbal casting.
"Which I suppose would make you an expert in bullshit?" Tracey asked, quickly pushing her surprise away.
"Who knows, that's probably for you to decide" Harry shrugged easily, "Still, it might be a bit pointless at this point, but it's nice to meet you, I'm Harry, Harry Potter."
"Yes, we know," Tracey rolled her eyes.
"We might've heard of you before," Daphne smiled, her blue eyes alight with amusement. "But still, I suppose it's nice to meet you in person. Though I will say you're not what I expected?"
"Yes, well I'm sure Draco has been nothing but positive about me," Harry replied, his gaze shifting to look past the two girls, and instead at Malfoy, who he noted was already looking their way.
The moment their gazes met, Harry's smile widened slightly, even as Malfoy flinched and quickly looked away, his hands fumbling some ingredients he was holding as he did so, sending dozens of frog eyes rolling across his desk.
"Well, in the past he's been nothing but insulting," Daphne said idly, her brow furrowing as she watched Malfoy clean up after himself. "But he's been pretty out of sorts since the start of the year, and I'm not sure why…"
"Probably some personal issues," Harry said with a shrug.
"Who cares, he's a twat at the best of times." Tracey grunted, rolling her eyes as she instead looked him over. "Then again, you're not much better, or at least from what I've heard, and before you ask, no, not just from Malfoy. You have a reputation, Potter, and it's not a great one."
"Tracey!" Daphne hissed, her cheeks going slightly pink in embarrassment.
"Hey, that's fair, it's not her fault for speaking her mind and repeating what others have told her." Harry said, with a slight smile, his gaze locking with Tracey as he reached out with some mental feelers, testing for a some kind of barrier around her mind. There wasn't one. "But I always find it's best to come to your own conclusions about people, and how else can you do that, other than by meeting them and getting to know them?"
"And is that what you're doing over here, Potter? Do you just want to get to know us?" Tracey asked snidely.
"Well, finding out your names would be a start?" Harry replied, dancing around his actual reasoning - they definitely wouldn't have liked it -, as he instead got to work on preparing the ingredients for the potion.
"I'm surprised you don't know them already?" Tracey shot back.
"It's a big school, and Gryffindor and Slytherin aren't exactly close, you know?" Harry replied, his smile turning a bit more genuine. He quite liked her combative attitude.
"Really, I hadn't noticed." Tracey smirked.
"Daphne Greengrass," Daphne interrupted, her eyes locking with his. She notably rolled them slightly, when Tracey let out an audible snort behind her. "I suppose it's nice to properly meet you after only four years of going to school together."
"You know what they say about the best things in life?" Harry replied with a grin.
"Yes, they don't tend to happen at school." Tracey cut in, her gaze locking with his. "But yeah, I'm Tracey Davis."
"Nice to meet you," Harry replied easily, dumping his first load of ingredients into his cauldron.
"Is it?" Tracey asked as she dropped some ingredients into her own cauldron.
"Tracey," Daphne sighed, massaging her temple with her freehand.
Harry smiled.
"Potter, is there a reason you're bothering your fellow classmates?" Snape's voice rang out, a sour expression on the sallow man's face as he swooped down on the three of them like an overgrown bat.
"Just checking that I'm doing the right thing, sir." Harry replied, his gaze shifting up to meet Snape's piercing black eyes.
"The instructions are on the board, Potter. I would have thought you would have at least learnt to read by now." Snape drawled.
Harry raised an eyebrow, and ignored the tittering from the Slytherins.
"You would have thought so. I personally blame the British education system." Harry replied glibly.
"That'll be five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter, and another five for distracting your classmates." Snape sneered, his gaze boring into Harry, daring him to push his luck.
Withholding a smile, Harry kept his cool and nodded.
He'd allow Snape his petty victory.
After all, there was nothing to gain from beating him here except a fleeting self satisfaction, a slight increase in popularity with his housemates, and the loss of many house points which would worsen his reputation with the rest of his house, and he was playing for higher stakes.
"Good, now get back to work." Snape continued after a moment, his gaze still on Harry. He looked disappointed about not receiving a proper reaction. "All of you." He continued, looking at the class at large now, many of whom had stopped what they were doing, so they could watch.
"Looks like you're in trouble," Tracey muttered from beside him as Sanpe swept away to go bothering Longbottom.
"What else is new," Harry smiled.
"He really is a petty man, isn't he." Daphne added, her brow furrowed as she scowled at the back of Snape's greasy head. "I don't know why Dumbledore keeps him around."
"Who knows," Harry shrugged. He knew, or at least he had a good idea of why. Not that he would be sharing it anytime soon.
With that said, the three of them got back to work, occasionally making quiet, idle chit chat, with some of Harry's housemates occasionally chipping in when Snape's back was turned, even as they finished up their potions and bottled them for Snape to mark.
In the end, he ended up with a pretty decent potion sample.
A potion worthy of an Exceeds Expectations, or at least from an unbiased teacher.
But more importantly, he also now had two new contacts in Slytherin House.
Which meant that overall it had been a pretty successful lesson, all things considered.
He could only hope the rest of the day was similarly productive.
Then again, considering that he had Defence Against the Dark Arts and his first meeting with Umbridge coming up, he wasn't sure.
Not that he even knew what his game plan yet was for Umbridge.
Did he want to win her over, and bring her on side as an ally?
Did he want to provoke her and turn her into an enemy, and use her own unlikabiltiy and incompetence as a tool to build up his own reputation?
Or he could just get rid of her?
It wouldn't be too hard to come up with a way to grievously injure or kill her. But then if he did, he would be in uncharted territory, and would have to deal with her replacement.
Killing Draco if he got in the way was one thing. It would permanently get rid of a thorn in his side, but at the expense of bringing suspicion down on himself, and alienating some useful assets in Slytherin House.
But Umbridge could and would be replaced if he got rid of her, and considering Fudge's enmity and overall competence, her replacement could be even more vicious than her.
He needed to make a choice soon, but first he needed to get rid of his hangers-on, or at least for an hour or so, and make a quick visit to the room of requirement. He needed to get a rough idea of his future resources, and actually make sure the room existed, after all ever-growing power bases needed a command centre.
( - )
AN: Hope you enjoyed. If not then please tell what you didn't like, or what you thought could have been done better? Please leave a review, comment etc. If you have any questions or suggestions feel free to PM me.
Also I am on a discord with a load of other writers, so if you fancy popping over to ask questions or offer suggestions about this story, or any of my other ones, or to find new authors you might not have come across yet, please feel free to use the link in my bio.
My next story will be one of my PJO crossovers, or my Elder Scrolls crossover, I've not decided yet.
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you later.
Greed720.
