Bow before me peasants, for I am a generous god. I , Neolyph, writer of tales and harbinger of harems, bring you another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. Sorry about the shortness of last chapter. I just got a job and was having trouble adjusting to the new schedule, so I didn't have much time to write. I'll still try to at least bust out a chapter a week though. I love all of you for the support this story is getting, which has blown all of my expectations. Not much else to say, so review time.
BBWulf: I wanted at least a minor show of force, though indirect on Harry's part. Also, Dumbledore has a reason to feel an aura of invincibility. I'll leave you to ponder that.
AnimeA55Kicker: That is actually one of the jokes I was considering. Stop stealing my ideas damn it.
FuZzvKiNgZz: A tad cliche, but I hope to at least put a minor twist on it. I wanted to portray a competent Dumbledore more along the lines of a chess master, or at least he thinks he is.
PhaseHand: The stone made of souls thing is from Full Metal Alchemist. It will make more sense later in the story.
Raidentensho: Dumbledore retains mastery of the Elder Wand. Due to the maids not possessing souls, the Wizarding magical system is incapable of recognizing them as living beings. As far as magic was concerned, Dumbledore being disarmed by Monica would be the same as if he walked into a door and dropped it. The door wouldn't become the new master, because it isn't alive.
Im a guest: Yu-Gi-Oh, actually.
harmless review: Jesus, I was like a day later than usual on last chapter. I have no intentions of abandoning this story, even if I have to for some reason slow updates.
Akuma-Heika: Purebloods don't have a religion, so they don't give a shit about the child of a supposed god. There are plenty of legends of immortals and gods, but very few of them were actually wizards, and Hassan wasn't. They wouldn't believe in any "miracles" some hyped up muggle could supposedly preform. Gaia isn't TYPE Earth, she is Earth. Just like Dead Apostles are TYPE Moon, but Crimson Moon Brunestud is the moon. She is the very will of the planet to survive manifested, which makes her the closest thing to a literal god, next to Alaya. Harry is limited in his use of magecraft by his general inexperience with it. He is a fair hand at it, but he's still an apprentice. Zelretch is still covering his lessons. I still have it up in the air, but I'd like to wait until Harry is at least thirteen before anything gets too sexual. That's kind of my cutoff for creepiness. Maybe I'll poll it and have him alchemically speed along the process or something. J.K Rowling said at some point that the hat had made seven incorrect sortings in its history, one of which was sorting Snape into Slytherin. The hat is just essentially a mind-reading personality test. It is capable of a misjudgment. Yes, everyone in the fight lost ten points. I don't really consider it canon, but at the end of the Deathly Hallows movie Harry just snaps the wand over his knee and tosses it off a cliff.
kewllek: Saber is using Avalon as her sheath. Harry has a copies stored in himself and everyone close to him.
Thundramon: I think I made the comparison some number of chapters ago, but here you go. In a straight-up fight between a Clock Tower Researcher and a determined Auror, the Auror would win. If the Auror hesitated though, the magus would win through sheer ruthlessness and brutality. An Enforcer though could kick an Auror's ass. It was a nice little joke in canon to introduce new characters, but I never understood how Voldemort possessed the power to literally curse concepts, and didn't use it for anything else. No curse on the DADA position. Monica isn't recognized by magic as a combatant, so her disarming Dumbledore didn't register.
TheDisturbedDragon: Precisely. Any magus could talk circles around a wizard. Confrontation is coming this chapter. Wasn't time for it before.
Chapter 16: Potions and Scheming
Harry's first sight upon walking into the smoky classroom was Professor Snape sitting at his desk in the front of the room, sporting several bruises. Immediately, their eyes met and he shot the boy and maids a rueful glare. Clearly he had not appreciated being manhandled, even if it was necessary, or perhaps he had not expected the homunculi's strength. In any case, he was clearly displeased with his current state, which was something Harry could understand, so he countered the glare with a sheepish grin of apology. Snapping his eyes to the rest of Slytherin, who had once again followed their only housemate who seemed to know where he was going, Snape stood to address the class.
"Take a seat class. It doesn't matter where, as I'll break you up into partners shortly anyway," he barked gruffly, though not as gruff as he usually was with the other houses. While he clearly disliked teaching ignorant children, at the very least he tried to curb his bitterness and avoid showing it to his own House.
"Now," he continued, "can anyone answer what seems to be the most common question of the day and tell me where the Gryffindors are? I do sincerely hope that they haven't gotten... lost," he finished with absolutely no sincerity and a sneer of malice. Right as he finished speaking, the door opened again to reveal the Gryffindor class, sans Orion and Ron, being led by a ghost. A quick check of the time revealed that they had just barely made it on time.
Snape's sneer dropped at losing his chance to discipline his least favorite house, before he noticed that Orion wasn't amongst them and it returned in full force. He stalked his way back across the murky classroom and stood at the head by the chalkboard. With his pale composure, the angry sneer on his face, and his suitably dark clothing, he more than fit the archetype of the intimidating teacher. Harry had little doubt that had there been any kind of review of the classes, that Potions would see the least rambunctious students. Snape's sneer was almost a promise of pain for the fools who would dare interrupt his class for anything less than an emergency.
"Welcome to Potions, Year 1," came his monotone introduction, "For anyone who was being a typical Gryffindor and not paying attention during the opening feast, I am Professor Snape, head of House Slytherin and resident Potions Master."
As he began his next part, his voice began to get more emotional to match his enthusiasm for the subject.
"In this class, you will learn the art of Potioneering. In my years of teaching, I have found that there are two types of students in this class. There are those with the patience and willpower to excel, and those... more wanting.
Potioneering is one of the subtlest and exacting subjects in the Magical World. The number who can truly go far in the field is very slim. For most of you, you will work and study hard, which will result in a fair and passing grade. For those of you who work harder, you will have many more careers open to you from Healers to being a future Potions Master. And for those of you with the natural predisposition for this most delicate of arts, I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and ever put a stopper. in. death. Of course, this is all dependent on talent and effort."
He reached under his desk, removing a quill and sheet of parchment.
"Since you are all seated, I will take roll and separate you into groups of two partners. Hope that you have a good partner, because you will be graded together. When I call your name, simply raise your hand."
Roll went on for about a minute before Snape got to the name he was waiting for.
"Orion Potter."
The second the words left his mouth, the door burst open to reveal a huffing and puffing Orion and Ron with a very cross Sprout dragging them by their robes.
"My apologies Professor Snape. Two of your students got lost and I had to lead them back here. I'm sorry for the interruption," she said sternly before spinning around and marching back into the corridor, closing the door behind her.
"Ahh," Harry could hear the evil grin Snape was hiding behind his sheet of parchment, "as I was saying, Orion Potter. Our newest celebrity."
Unfortunately for Orion, his didn't seem to pick up on the fact that the Professor was not, in fact, a fan of his. Instead, he looked up cockily. To one of the people who hated him the most in the castle. Clearly, any survival instinct present in Orion was either long dead, or had gone to sleep, and nothing short of a raging dragon would wake it up.
"The one and only. Would you like an autograph? I have some headshots in here somewhere," he said, rooting around his bag. The Slytherins snickered, before Snape shot them a quick glare to silence them. He was going to drag this out, and make an example out the arrogant Gryffindor, who also happened to be the son of his school nemesis.
"Are you sure? I mean, this is hardly an appropriate place for such a thing, especially for a Professor such as myself."
The degree of sarcasm and false hero-worship was nearly palpable. Still, Orion didn't notice as he kept digging through his bag in search of the photos he had brought specifically for autographs. For some reason, he wasn't going through as many as he'd initially expected. Maybe everyone just needed some time to get over the awe. Finally, he found one and pulled it out. With a quick flourish, it was signed with a dedication.
The room was silent, despite the Slytherins who were barely able to contain their laughter and the Gryffindors, who were watching the exchange with expressions usually reserved for those watching car accidents. They were terrified, and clearly wanted to stop what was happening, but they simply couldn't. stop. watching.
With a predatory grace, Snape glided over to Orion's desk and plucked the photo with two fingers, as if he wanted to avoid exposure. It was a 9x12 close-up photo of the pudgy Boy-Who-Lived blowing a kiss at the camera. Looking down, he read the dedication.
"To my biggest fan, Severus Snape. Love, Orion Potter."
"You know," Orion mused, "dad warned me that you would be all mean, but you're just a big old softie on the inside aren't you? I mean, asking for my autograph on the first day of classes. You're a closet fan aren't you? I get those a lot."
The concealed snickering stopped at the look on the Professor's face. Anyone present that fateful day would later claim that for the briefest moment, Snape's face had been replaced with that of a snarling demon. Regardless of what actually happened, his face quickly formed into a massive smile, as if his life ambition had been fulfilled. Anyone not blinded by ego would notice that the grin was just wide enough to cross the border from 'ecstatic' to 'unhinged'. Orion gained a smug grin, thinking that he had the Professor on his side now. Maintaining the smile, Snape silently padded back to his desk with the picture still held between his two fingers.
Suddenly, the smile dropped and was replaced by a sneer of pure contempt and malice. With a flick of his wrist the photograph was incinerated by one of the candles on his desk. Orion's smug look dropped into one of confusion
"Twenty-five points from Gryffindor, Mister Potter, for both your tardiness even though the rest of your house was on time, and for interrupting my role call to indulge your ego. Now, since you obviously have better things to do than show up on class on time, I must assume that you have already mastered this year's material."
"So tell me, Mr. Potter-"
At this he paused, before an idea seemed to cross his mind. The Gryffindors nearly whimpered when the man smirked evilly, the candle light illuminating his face just enough to make his expression of pure, evil glee terrifying.
"It seems that we have two Mr. Potters in this class. One raised as the brilliant Boy-Who-Lived, the other raised by muggles. We're going to need a way to differentiate the names. I have an idea, let us see which knows the material better. Let's say the prize for winning is the title of Mr. Potter the Superior, and the loser shall henceforth be Mr. Potter the Inferior. It is only fair that we remind the Boy-Who-Lived of his ability in Potions compared to his brother, after all. That sound good class?"
He looked down at the Slytherins, who were nodding enthusiastically, while the Gryffindors were going green. They hadn't had much interaction with Orion so far, but what they had seen wasn't exactly confidence-inspiring when it came to his academic abilities. The Slytherins on the other hand, were confident that a member of their own house had already read ahead. That, and Harry had already something of a reputation, as well as the few previous classes to show that he was, in fact, vastly competent when it came to magic. And it was quite clear that it would be hard for him to do worse than Orion, anyway.
Orion, on the other hand, regained his cocky smirk as he glanced over at his twin. He was sitting next to those two bints of his, while those weird maids were glaring at him from the back of the room. He was confident because, even though he didn't study, he had at least been raised a wizard. He had learned some Potions terms, if only through exposure. Harry on the other hand had been raised a muggle squib. He would have no idea what the Professor was talking about.
He'd wipe the floor with the Slytherin prick.
"Go right ahead Professor," he boldly challenged, "Shame though that Harry's going to be stuck with such an embarrassing nickname."
Snape's sneer only grew, until it was nearly stretching his face. Harry was quite sure that the man might purchase a Pensieve, if he didn't have one already at least, if only to enjoy the memory of that day again and again.
"Alright then, first question Boy-Who-Lived. What would I get if I added powdered root of Asphrodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"
Damn, he should have expected betrayal from the snakes. Obviously, Snape was going to pound him with impossible questions and then give Harry really easy ones. They'd also probably set this up beforehand and the Professor had already given his squib brother all of the answers. He decided to counter by revealing their plan to everyone.
"Ohh, I get it now. You and Harry cooked this whole plan up beforehand, didn't you? You're going to give me all of these questions that nobody knows the answers to, but you've already told Harry all of the answers to the ones you're going to ask him. Not gonna work now though. Ten galleons says that this root of Afro-thingy and Beetlewood or whatever isn't even in the textbook."
The entire class simultaneously gave him a look as if he'd just drooled on his chin. He looked down at Ron, but he was just looking around, confused. After a brief silence, a cheerful voice chimed in.
"I'll take that bet."
He looked for the source and saw that girl with the weird purple hair that always seemed to be inexplicably clinging to Harry. Suckura or something. She gave him a dazzling smile that had him briefly blushing with how pretty she looked, before she pulled out her textbook and opened to the first page, reading aloud.
"Welcome, students, to The Introductory Guide to Potioneering. This book will serve as a guide to slowly immerse you in the wide world of potion-crafting. Now, one of the very first questions we should answer is: what is a potion? A potion is a typically fluid magical substance created through the combination of various ingredients, both magical and mundane. An easy example of this is one of the potions you will be expected to be able to make by the end of this textbook. By combining powdered root of Asphrodel with an infusion of Wormwood in a very delicate and precise process, you can produce-"
"I believe you can stop there, Ms. Emiya. Five points to Slytherin for remembering that the answer was on the first page, nay, the first paragraph of the textbook. I might add that the first five chapters were explicitly stated to be mandatory assigned reading prior to coming to class. Also, I do believe the Boy-Who-Is-Inferior owes you some galleons."
Caught by his own confidence, Orion was forced to make due on his bet and grudgingly handed the money over to the still-smiling Sakura.
"Ten points from Gryffindor by the way, for not doing the assigned reading. Now, let's see if you brother can answer the question."
He looked over at Harry expectantly, who casually drawled out, "An infusion of powdered root of Asphrodel and Wormwood infusion under the right conditions produces the Draught of Living Death, sir, which is a very powerful sleeping potion."
"Five points to Slytherin, Mr. Superior. I'd also like to answer your previous accusation, Mr. Inferior, by reminding you that we are only playing this little game because you arrived late and decided that writing autographs to "your biggest fan" was a more productive use of your time than the class. How could I have possibly predicted those and arranged this beforehand?"
This seemed to take the wind out of Orion's sails. Ironically, anyone who knew Orion could have predicted both of those outcomes pretty well. Unfortunately for him though, nobody else in Gryffindor put that together, resulting in him just looking stupid.
"Now then, let's try the next question. Where would you look were I to drop you off outside and instruct you to find a bezoar?"
"Perhaps sunk in the depths of your greasy black hair?" Orion snarked. Since it was clear he was going to lose face, he might as well use the opportunity to insult the man, and hopefully get back some ground he had lost with the Gryffindors.
The room looked at Orion like he was insane, with the exception of Ron, who started howling with laughter.
"Ten points from Gryffindor. Mr. Superior, same question." Sneered Snape, whose evil smile seemed to be becoming painful, as wide as it was now. Why, he had just what he needed to criticize Potter for the way he had raised his son, and to eventually destroy his reputation, at least if the Brat-Who-Lived continued as he was going. Which was very likely, Orion wasn't exactly the sharpest wand of the bunch.
"Either the nearest Potion supply cupboard, Diagon Alley, or the stomach of a goat, sir," Harry replied easily.
"Five points to Slytherin. Things aren't looking good for you Mr. Inferior. How about an easy one? What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"
"Well, I imagine that neither are shampoo ingredients, Snivellus."
The collective classroom went deathly quiet while Snape's sneer went from 'mocking' to 'enraged'.
"Get out," he hissed, "GET OUT!"
Orion lazily stood, slinging his bag over his shoulders.
"I presume I'll be going to the Headmaster to have this point-loss voided?"
"Fifty points from Gryffindor. If the Headmaster voids those, I'll just keep taking points off until he can't catch up. Also, you'll be having detention with me for the next week, since the Headmaster cancelled the ones you earned with Professor Sprout. I'll additionally be speaking to your mother about your behavior."
Orion's face paled at the end of that statement. Dumbledore would undo any disciplinary actions the Professors put on him, but his mother had other options available to her. And while she doted on him, she was never one to suffer him insulting people, least of all teachers, when it was unwarranted. And he had learnt to fear her anger.
"Now get out."
Scared now, Orion dashed out of the classroom like the hounds of hell were baying at his heels. Snape watched him leave with a look of disgust on his face, before schooling his expression and turning back to the class.
"And here I was thinking that Peeves was the resident nuisance. I'm going to partner you up for today's assignment. You'll be making a boil-cure potion. Ensure that you read the instructions carefully, as if you make this incorrectly you will instead gain a potion that sprouts boils instead that will be immune to the regular potion, so they'll have to go away naturally."
The class was divided up into groups of two. Harry was partnered with Daphne, Illya with Sakura, and Neville with Ron. Harry could only feel pity for the Longbottom boy, as he wasn't even entirely sure that Ronald Weasley was literate.
Daphne proved an efficient partner. She seemed to be holding back and only doing what was necessary, prompting him to take the lead. People often said that a wizard's favored magical discipline betrayed some part of their personality. Transfiguration was for the strong and firm. Herbology was for the giving and optimistic. And Potions was for the clever and patient. A talent with Potions would indicate to Daphne whether he possessed more of the traits she desired in her future Lord and Master. He decided to prove her suspicion correct by brewing a masterfully crafted vial of boil-cure draught. Seeing that Snape had purposely given him extra ingredients, he took the hint and whipped something up with the remainder, slipping the second vial into his pocket.
Sakura and Illya were working well together. Of course, any magus would have the necessary focus and patience to see the making of a potion through. Though usually a childish and impatient little girl, Illya was a magus where it counted. They were only a minute or so behind Harry, with a potion of equal quality. Neville and Ron on the other hand...
"No Ron! Don't add that ye-"
A resounding 'boom' echoed from the back of the classroom as it filled with black smoke. Eventually it cleared to reveal two black-faced boys, one very angry and the other confusedly staring at the melted remains of a cauldron, as if he couldn't fathom what had possibly gone wrong.
"You bloody imbecile! We'd literally just added the porcupine needles! We had to wait five minutes before adding the snake scales, not five seconds!"
"Shut it squib! How was I supposed to know that?"
"IT'S WRITTEN ON THE BLOODY BOARD!"
"Please, like anybody actually reads the instructions on these. This is like cooking; everyone knows you can just wing it."
Before either of them did something stupid, Snape decided to intervene.
"While I would usually not grade you separately, I will make an exception in this case as one of you clearly knew what he was doing. Mr. Longbottom, you will receive a passing grade on this as the potion was going well under your supervision. Mr. Weasley, you have failed today and will remain after class to clean up your mess. Perhaps it will serve as a lesson to read the instructions next time, if you can even read."
"Don't talk to me like that, you dark bastard. Everyone knows that you're secretly a Death Eater and just want to get back at my family. You probably even sabotaged our potion, didn't you?" growled the redhead, who had apparently the same kind of lack of survival instinct than Orion. Harry briefly wondered if this couldn't prove that stupidity was contagious, before shrugging. Clearly it was only contagious if the person already lacked intelligence to begin with.
"Mr. Weasley, I believe that it would be prudent to cease your witless drivel. After you finish cleaning up your mess, you can join your good friend Orion at the Headmaster's office, and inform him personally of your ten-point deduction."
Grumbling to himself, Ron went to the nearby cupboard and retrieved a mop to clean up the potion fluid.
-Break-
The next couple of hours were rather uneventful for Harry. After Potions, he had History of Magic. From what one of the upper-year Slytherins said, it was essentially a study hall with an examination at the end of the year. Professor Binns was basically a recording playing on a loop at this point rather than an actual Professor. He just floated at the front of the room and droned on in a monotone about the Goblin Rebellions, hell, he didn't even seem to notice the students he was going to teach! Honestly, he should probably file an anonymous complaint to the Board of Governors that one of the Professors was blatantly incompetent and see if he could get Dumbledore in trouble. Subpar teaching would undoubtedly not sit well with the Governors, especially not since their heirs and heiresses were attending classes, and couldn't afford to be anything less than perfect.
He spent the majority of the period talking with Illya, Sakura, and Hermione Granger. Hermione seemed deeply offended at the notion of a school having a useless Professor simply because it was cheaper. When she began talking about academic honesty and the like, a plan formulated in his head to turn the Headmaster's blatant favoritism of Orion and Gryffindor against him.
He mentioned the business with Orion, Snape, and Sprout. By the time he was done, she seemed about five seconds from tracking down Orion and beating him senseless for his trouble-making, and the Headmaster for covering for him. She stood up and launched into a long and passionate monologue about equality in the field of academics and fair play. The Ravenclaws in the class looked up and started paying attention. If there was one thing that got them truly angry, it was something that would harm them academically. As Hermione spoke, they grew angrier and angrier, until they were nearly chomping at the bit in rage. Even the Slytherins were getting angry at the Headmaster's actions, while Daphne watched Harry's plan unfold in pleasure and approval.
With the seeds of bitterness planted, Harry subtly organized the two classes together, forming a very large and angry group of first-years. The plan wasn't for these students to do much, as most of them knew little if any magic themselves. Instead, he would get them to persuade the rest of their houses into joining the disgruntled group. If he could get Hermione in a room with some Hufflepuffs, their sense of justice and fairness would get them on board as well. Most wouldn't trust a Slytherin on this sort of thing, but having an impassioned Ravenclaw at his side gave him an air of legitimacy. Ravenclaws never did anything that "shook the building" unless they were certain that their sources were truthful and that not doing something would harm their ability to learn.
With careful planning, he might even get the Gryffindors themselves to turn on Orion for being unfair. They did pride themselves on being the 'lightest' house, and if phrased properly wouldn't be able to tolerate one of their own behaving so deplorably and getting away with it. If this worked, he'd not only have the entire school turning against Orion and Dumbledore, but they would also be very grateful to him for bringing this to their attention and organizing it from behind the scenes. Not to mention, the only way the Headmaster would be able to save face would be to drop his support of Orion and give him all of the point losses and detentions he'd earned. Orion being Orion, he'd blame Dumbledore for it, which would drive the two apart.
If he could get outside press support and publicity, he might even be able to have the man removed as Headmaster, though that one was unlikely. But even if it didn't go that far, Dumbledore's image would undoubtedly suffer greatly, just what he wanted.
With one little mistake on Dumbledore's part, he'd tear apart the old man's grip on the school.
-Break-
After his extended study hall, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by James Potter. Just the thought of extended contact with the man brought a grimace to his face. Feeling his discomfort, Sakura gave his hand a gentle squeeze while Illya just latched herself fully to his arm.
The Servants all gave various advice, ranging from increased requests for permission to kill them all from Berserker, to one from Rider to allow her to just eat them, to Saber's inner statesman giving him advice on composing himself and dealing with people that you'd much rather just shove a sword through.
Inside the classroom, the Gryffindors seemed to have finally worked out the strategy of asking ghosts and paintings for directions and arrived almost at the same time as the Slytherins.
Evidently, Snape had followed through with his threat to speak to Lily, and she'd been rather upset to have a first-hand account from a Professor on her son's rudeness. The proof was clear on Orion's face as he shuffled in bearing a look of combined shame and rage. When he glanced over in Harry's direction, his eyes narrowed before he turned away.
Knowing that the boy was planning something, he tasked Assassin with following the boy after class and finding out what hair-brained scheme he was concocting. His devoted Servant instantly glided across the room and stood right in front of Orion, glaring at him with the force of a thousand suns. To put it lightly, his zealous Assassin was... not particularly fond of the ones who had left her god to his childhood of torture, or anyone associated with them. Her desire to brutally slay them all was exceeded only by Berserker. She only held herself back from doing so because of the knowledge that it would interfere with her god's plans to see them be punished for their sin. After all, it was not the place of a mere servant to punish heretics who had sinned against a god, when said god already had a grand plan to deal with them.
The Slytherins all grouped together on the right side of the classroom while the Gryffindors took the left. Neither side wanted to sit near the other, with the exception of Neville, who sat next to Daphne. Some in his house, primarily Orion and Ron, looked disgusted with him, while the rest just gave him odd glances.
Finally, the door opened and James Potter strolled into the room. Rumor had it that he was actually a very good DADA Professor, if a tad biased against Slytherin. Scores had shot through the roof under his tutelage. Supposedly, he was to become the next head of Gryffindor when McGonagall retired. As he stepped up to his desk, he turned to face the back wall and saw the Homunculi standing against it at attention. His face visibly paled, before he brought it back under control and he began teaching the class, which earned him a sliver of grudging respect from Harry. He was quite sure that most wizards would run for their lives after the show of force from the Homunculi, but at least the man was willing to stand his ground.
He taught them an introductory lesson on what exactly the Dark Arts were, why they were dark, and the consequences of using them. This part of the class, Harry didn't like. James portrayed magic as far too black-and-white for his taste. True magic, in his opinion, was all based around intent. Magic was such a versatile skill that it was nearly impossible to write off a particular spell off as entirely beneficial or entirely evil. Of course, some were exceptions to this, but they were few and far between. But again, James Potter had never been very bright when it came to questioning the laws about magic, and as a firm follower of Dumbledore, he had clearly received more than a few lectures about how magic was either Light or Dark, and how Dark Magic was an abomination. Heck, Harry saw him more as someone who would condemn a "Dark" Magic user on principle, without even trying to see if the person was actually harming others first.
Instead of sounding educated on his subject, James just came off as fanatical in his condemnation of the Dark Arts, and their practitioners. As he began talking about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, he made some rather pointed comments about the parents of some of the attending Slytherin students.
Honestly, judging the Slytherins based on their parents was a bit unfair. Tom Riddle had won over his support base through sheer charisma, and a convincing ideology. Were he not so persuasive, his Pureblood Supremacist philosophy would have never found a foothold in the house. True Slytherins were rationalists above all else.
For example, Salazar Slytherin was infamous for attempting to ban muggleborns from Hogwarts. Most presume that this made him a racist. However, Salazar didn't hate muggles as a race, but as a culture. At the time, muggles were still very "Burn the Witch!", not to mention uneducated. Any attempt to integrate them into Hogwarts would result in either the wizard or witch being killed by their family for their "sin", or the student would arrive at a school for nobility, unable to read or write.
He wanted to either not contact muggleborns at all and just let them live happily in ignorance, or put them into a special, separate cram school at an earlier age to prepare them for entering the Wizarding world. He knew this because the Chamber of Secrets was essentially Salazar's wizard version of a magus workshop, and contained his journals, which Tom had read. The Basilisk contained within was not to purge the school of muggleborns, but to defend the workshop from all but his heirs.
Of course, Salazar spread rumors of his monster to keep others out of his workshop, but the rumors eventually morphed that he kept the beast as his own personal weapon of racism.
This is of course, was all to say that Slytherins weren't inherently racist. Really, what they wanted was just a true ideology and someone to serve. Tom Riddle had provided that, and so they had served him. All Harry needed was to use their hatred for Dumbledore as a catalyst and they would serve him as fanatically as they'd served Riddle.
Their parents, however, had served Voldemort and were too entrenched in his beliefs. By removing them, however, he would make their children in his service much more powerful and influential. Perhaps he should just give Assassin a list, like he'd done with the Einzberns. He'd need to build his political base prior to that though, so he could properly cover it up.
Aside from the initial bias, the class went fairly well. It wasn't until the very end that problems arose. James dismissed the class, but stopped Harry right before he left, saying that they needed to talk. The maids bristled, and he backed off somewhat. Harry feigned confusion, as if he was unaware of why his father would be afraid of three maids. He agreed to talk to the man, and sent Illya, Sakura, Daphne, and Neville on ahead. The Homunculi remained behind though, primarily to intimidate James if necessary. Once the five were alone, Lily came in and sat herself down next to James.
It seemed it was time to discuss his sorting.
"Harry," James began, "your mother and I have some... concerns regarding you."
Harry's face fell as he replaced it with a look of shame.
"This is about my sorting into Slytherin, isn't it?"
James nodded and grimaced, Lily just watched him curiously. Evidently, his mother wasn't quite as offended by the notion as James was. Perhaps the hat had also offered her Slytherin when she'd been sorted?
"Can I ask you what exactly the hat said before he sorted you?"
Harry closed his eyes for a moment, conjuring up the story he'd been practicing since his sorting.
"Well, I put the hat on and it started asking me all of these questions. I begged to go in Gryffindor, since Orion was in there. But the thing was, that the hat said that I had an opportunity. It asked me what I wanted to do here at Hogwarts, and I answered that I wanted to help Orion."
James got a small smile on his face at this, pleased that his eldest son didn't seem to be totally dark.
"And then?"
"The hat asked me where I thought that most of Orion's enemies would come from. Of course, I answered Slytherin. It told me that in Slytherin, I would face true challenges, and hatred for being your son. It told me that I would be spat on, derided, and despised. Eventually though, I would win their respect and turn them to the light.
It asked me whether I just wanted everyone to assume that I was brave, or if I wanted to be brave. I answered, and it sorted me."
James and Lily both bore a look of pride at the thought of their son being the one to turn the most hated house in Hogwarts around, and making it respectable. James was still mildly suspicious of his son, though. Dumbledore had warned him to be especially careful when talking to Harry. Slytherins were infamous for deceit after all. After this little talk, however, most of his fears were assuaged. There was just one more little point to cover.
"That's amazing Harry. I think it's safe to say that you'll make us proud. Just think of it. One of my sons the Boy-Who-Lived, the other the Savior of Slytherin. There's just one more thing I'd like to talk to you about. Uhh, could you ask your... familiars to step outside for a moment?"
The maids bristled once more, and James flinched. Acting like he didn't notice the exchange, Harry shifted his face into one of confusion.
"Huh, why? If it's something secret, don't worry. I trust them with my life."
James grimaced again, knowing that this would be a difficult conversation.
"I'm afraid that keeping your familiars around would be..." he tried to find the right words, "detrimental to your well-being."
Harry looked a tad offended.
"No. I love you dad, but I love them too. They always stood beside me and helped me and Sakura when we were with Zouken. Besides, they're really strong, but they'd never hurt a fly. Right?" He turned and looked back at the maids, who nodded in agreement. Monica gave a slasher smile at James, who started shaking a bit.
"Oh Merlin," he thought in terror, "my son has those things serving him, and he has no idea just how dangerous they are. And he's so attached that I'll never be able to convince him otherwise."
"Of course, Master. We'd never hurt anyone on purpose. I mean, sometimes we don't know our own strength, but we'd never hurt anyone intentionally. We're only made to hurt bad people. Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?" she said, never dropping that terrifying smile.
"See dad? They won't hurt me or anyone else. Well, they did once tell me that part of their construction was telling them how to hurt bad people, but that's okay, because they're bad people. They didn't really tell me who the bad people were though."
"Bad people are people who want to hurt you or separate us from you, Master. We only hurt those people." Smiled one of the maids, giving James a large smile.
"Do you have to call him 'Master' all the time?" Lily interjected.
"He is our Master. What else should we call him?" Leanna asked, hiding amusement.
"Did he order you to call him that?" she asked in suspicion.
Leanna gave a baleful glare, offended at the implication.
"Of course not! Master would never do that! He is a kind and generous Master. We call him that because it would be improper to do otherwise."
Lily calmed down somewhat at the knowledge that her son wasn't abusing his power. She remembered her husband educating her about house elves, and realized that these might be similar beings. The obedience of a house elf, with the initiative and intelligence of a human. She'd run the theory by Dumbledore that these women were an attempt to make the perfect Servant, by combining aspects of the two. It would also explain why they were so firmly attached to Harry, along with their meeting and attack on Dumbledore. House elves were known to respond violently at times to attempts to separate them from their Masters.
Finally, James just gave up. He didn't want to start a fight with three beings that could get the drop on Dumbledore. He wasn't going to easily convince his son, not without overwhelming evidence. He'd have to inform Dumbledore of this development as soon as possible.
With the main topics of conversation down, James expressed disapproval, but acceptance of his son's familiars. Knowing that it was the best he'd get, Harry bid his parents a good day, and went to dinner.
With their son and his terrifying familiars gone, James sunk into his chair, wondering if he'd made the right decision in not forcing the issue.
-Break-
On his way to dinner, Assassin reported in on Orion. Apparently, he was plotting to ambush Harry with Ron after dinner. Well, that just wouldn't do, so he gave Assassin the vial he'd made in Potions, with instructions to ensure that it found itself in Orion and Ron's pumpkin juice. Assassin gleefully took the vial, delighted at being given orders from her god. She astralized again and slipped off to the kitchens.
About ten minutes later, Harry caught up with Sakura, Illya, Daphne, and Neville, who were waiting outside the Great Hall for the doors to open. The first three seemed to have already surmised what the meeting was about, and he confirmed that it went well. Neville wasn't quite as quick on the uptake, and need it explained. He was very happy though that his parents had accepted his sorting without any major difficulties. After a few minutes of discussion, the doors opened and they made their way over to the Slytherin table.
Ironically, this was one of the few times when Orion and Ron weren't late, as they arrived the second the doors opened and dashed over to fill their bellies. He had to suppress a grin as he watched them take massive swigs of juice as the Great Hall filled with students. As he looked around, he couldn't help but notice the fruits of his labor. Every other house in the school, even Hufflepuff, were glaring daggers at either Orion, Dumbledore, or Gryffindor in general. The news had spread through the houses about Orion's essential immunity to the rules, and they were unhappy about it.
They did get some measure of satisfaction though when several minutes into the meal, Orion and Ron started yelling. All over their bodies, boils were sprouting like popcorn popping under their skin. Snape had been rather subtle about it, but between mentioning the effects of an improperly brewed boil-cure potion and leaving him with extra ingredients, he hinting at Harry to take some additional revenge against the git.
The best part was that the boils couldn't be magically cured. They'd either have to pop them painfully or just start applying creams and hope for the best. Either way, the two were in for an unpleasant week.
Red-faced with rage and boils, Orion stood and started furiously scanning the room, before his eyes landed on Harry and he sneered, before yelling at him from across the hall.
"This was you, wasn't it you slimy git? Huh, just couldn't handle my popularity and had to resort to something so cowardly? Don't even try to deny it! You're the only one in the school that would do something like this!"
Slowly and calmly, Harry stood to address his brother. The contrast between the two was night and day. The pudgy Orion was covered in both boils and food, screaming his head off and running his hands through his messy black hair. He looked like some kind of sickness-ridden beggar, one who had never learnt what basic hygiene even was.
Harry on the other hand looked like a young prince, in his finely tailored black and green robes, well-trimmed and maintained hair, and calmly composed manner. Standing calm and collected, he seemed to be towering over his brother, to have a presence on an entirely different level.
"Orion, literally anyone in the school could have done this. Now, you've obviously been slipped an incorrectly made boil-cure potion. Every first year in the school learned that potion today, and was told what happens if they make it wrong. Not to mention that anyone in the upper years could prepare such a potion as well."
Orion stilled for a moment, but seemed to be unwilling to admit that he had no grounds to accuse his brother of anything. He had been raised by parents who doted on him, and everyone had always given him everything he wanted, so he had yet to understand that insisting on accusing someone of mischief when he was clearly wrong only served to make him appear like a spoiled brat.
"Oh yeah," he sputtered, "well you're the only one with a motive. Everyone in this school loves me!"
It was at this moment that he looked around to demonstrate his support and saw the glares that the students, and even some faculty, were shooting him.
"I'm not too sure if you've noticed this brother, but I wouldn't exactly call everyone here 'fans'. As a matter of fact, due to the Headmaster's blatant favoritism of you, I'm fairly certain that almost everyone here has quite the bone to pick with you."
Many in the Great Hall nodded their heads in agreement with Harry's words. Orion flushed in anger and looked around, before addressing the crowds.
"Why are you mad about that? Of course the Headmaster favors me! I'm the Boy-Who-Lived! I destroyed You-Know-Who! Doesn't that mean anything to you people?!"
"How?" came a voice from the Ravenclaw table. Turning to look, Harry was pleased to see that it was a positively livid Hermione. Orion just seemed confused at the question.
"How what?"
"You-Know-Who," she clarified, "How did you kill him? I read a number of books that mentioned your defeating him, but none of them actually say how. Just that he broke into your house, stunned your parents, and tried to kill you. After that, all it says is that you 'vanquished' him. So, how. did. you. do it?"
Orion mouth opened to retort, and then closed, and then opened, and then closed.
"You don't even know, do you? It's your greatest, nay, only life achievement, which you have based your entire life around, but you have no idea how you even did it. All anyone knows is that he entered your house, stunned your parents, and then somehow died, leaving you with a scar. The funny thing is, I've talked with Harry today, and did you know that he also has a scar? Now, wouldn't that just be funny if he was the Boy-Who-Lived?"
At this, Orion's face twisted in incoherent rage. He fumbled for his wand, drawing it and aiming it at Hermione. As he did this, Flitwick, Snape, and Sprout drew their wands, ready to intervene.
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" he screamed in rage, "SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH YOU DIRTY. MUDBLOOD. WHORE!"
Many in the hall gasped at this while Dumbledore internally panicked. This had already been going badly, but this tipped the scales. He stood, hoping to make Orion sit back down before he further damaged his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived, but was prevented from doing so when Lily Potter stormed through the doors of the Great Hall like a rampaging lioness.
Her face was a mask of rage so pure it could have passed for serenity. Nobody would of course make that mistake when her voice bellowed through the Great Hall like a cannon. Few would be able to match her volume, even with a Sonorus.
"ORION JAMES POTTER! WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DID YOU JUST SAY?"
It was at this point that most of those in the hall recalled that Lily Potter was originally Lily Evans, a muggleborn. When that information passed through their heads, there were mixed reactions.
The Slytherins were ecstatic. Some were even considering quickly calling a house elf for some popcorn just to enjoy the show. The Boy-Who-Lived, using a slur that applied to his own mother, who happened to be one of the most intelligent and powerful witches of her generation (much to their chagrin), when his own achievements were put in question by another Mudblood? Priceless! Most were already planning on sending the memory to their parents, as they were sure that they would quite enjoy the show.
The Ravenclaws were already very pissed. They'd embraced Hermione as one of their own, and she had obtained a great deal of respect with them due to her highly studious, as well as inquisitive, nature. To have someone they were already angry at call her that, well it nearly had some of the older students standing and hexing the boy. It wasn't as if losing him would be a great loss, Boy-Who-Lived or not.
You could practically see his support in Gryffindor deflate like air out of a balloon. He was already on shaky terms, only keeping his standing due to the Headmaster waiving any disciplinary action. Even then, some were angry at the unfair favoritism, even if it benefited the house. His own actions already cost their House quite a bit of its' good reputation, and there was a set limit of what they would tolerate from one of their own. The fact that Orion actually believed he could lord over them, even the older years, because he had done something as a baby, was also playing against him.
The Hufflepuffs were, ironically, probably the angriest house. They had the highest concentration of muggleborns out of all of the houses, not to mention one of the key tenants of their house was fairness and justice. Some at their table, such as Cedric Diggory, were already fingering their wands meaningfully. Although given the way Lily Potter was looking at her son, they were quite sure that Orion was about to suffer a massive reckoning. And if they weren't satisfied, well, they could always exert their vengeance later. Never underestimate a group of determined people who were loyal to each other, as they can give alibis for those actually acting against their enemies.
"M-Mum," Orion stuttered out.
"Not. one. word," she said through gritted teeth. Slowly, and with a frightening intensity, she marched over to her errant son, grabbing him by the ear and dragging him by it bodily out of the hall. Harry concealed a smirk, looking over at Daphne, who was staring at him in a brief moment of unconcealed awe. All of this from a single boil potion.
He just loved it when a plan came together.
-Break-
After a rather eventful dinner, a meeting was held in Slytherin. The meeting was that of the six prefects, three boys and three girls. While in the other houses the prefects were chosen by the head of house and could not be removed by either them or the Headmaster, in Slytherin it was different. Becoming a Slytherin prefect was an intricate affair of backroom dealings, backstabbing, and political pressure. If a prefect wasn't careful, they'd very quickly find themselves out of the office with a much more ambitious or clever Slytherin taking their place.
Which is to say, a Slytherin prefect represented those in the house that best represented its values. It was for this reason that they also enjoyed a much larger degree of authority over their peers than those in other houses. Between the six of them, they carried about an equal amount of power to Snape. It would not be untrue to say that they formed a council, which effectively ran Slytherin. It was they who decided and judged the members of the house, handing out rewards and punishments as appropriate. They were the ones who would arrange for an errant snake to temporarily lose the protection of the house to ensure that they remembered who was in charge. It was a very carrot-and-stick approach, but it worked.
The purpose of this particular meeting was to discuss the recent and highly unexpected development that was turning the house upside-down: Harry Potter. They'd all been observing him since his sorting, and they couldn't help but be impressed.
When he'd first showed up, he'd drawn interest if nothing else. The mostly unknown brother of the Boy-Who-Lived had come to Hogwarts. Of course, many expected him to be sorted into Gryffindor along with his brother. The first thing that had drawn their attention was his appearance. While his brother was a fat and spoiled brat, Harry had the beginnings of what was sure to be a very handsome appearance. He was wearing fine, but not showy clothes and had his hair neatly trimmed. They didn't have much explanation for its purple streak, however. He had the bearing of one with money, and who knew how to properly spend it, unlike someone like Draco Malfoy, who threw his status as someone coming from money in the face of people.
His sorting was what had truly made them stand up and take notice. After fifteen minutes, the hat had enthusiastically screamed his house, and the boy had been pleased. Of course, he faked displeasure, but made it obvious to anyone that knew what to look for that he was happy with his sorting. This put him in a position that they hadn't considered. Many plans had gone right out the window when Malfoy was sorted into Gryffindor. Since every family in Slytherin had been financially assassinated by Dumbledore, they'd been planning on ingratiating themselves to Malfoy and vassalizing themselves to him. With their weight thrown behind his son, Lucius Malfoy would be able to make a legitimate move for control of the Wizengamot.
With Malfoy in Gryffindor, that wouldn't work anymore. Then Potter had come along and filled the place instead. With the money he could bring into the house, he posed a legitimate candidate to become the new Lord of Slytherin. Of course, there was the question of whether he was still his father's son. That had been answered within minutes of entering the common room when he had three women, who were apparently his familiars of all things, beat down some students threatening him, before coldly explaining to the assembled house that he was not his father's son.
They'd watched him plot and scheme his way through his first day. He'd led his year to every class, displayed excellent skill in magic, and made an alliance with Neville Longbottom, of the very influential House Longbottom. Daphne Greengrass seemed to be even further ahead of the curve than them and was following him up-close to do her examination. According to what they'd heard from the rest of the house, Potter had worked with Snape in Potions to humiliate Orion, had manipulated one of the Ravenclaw girls to turn the entire school against Orion and the Headmaster, and then used both that and a boil-potion to cause Orion to snap in front of the entire school and call Hermione Granger a filthy mudblood whore.
He was brilliant.
The only question at this point was how best to approach him.
