Revised AN: Unless it says 'Revised' before it, or specifically mentions it, all AN's are the AN's from the original story. Also, got some rather hilarious reviews from people under the impression that I've been trying, and failing, to finish this story multiple times. 24 hours ago, the complete form of this story was posted. This repost simply cleans up the grammar/spelling/etc, and adds some elements that I had originally intended to include, but forgot the first time around, the core of the story is completely unchanged.
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Chapter 2: Everyone else during first year. And Summer.
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March:
McGonagall poured herself a finger of whiskey, took it straight, then sat down and picked up the letter she had received from Hermione Granger again.
Professor McGonagall,
I'm worried about Harry. I sent him a Christmas present with a note telling him my parents were withdrawing me from Hogwarts, and offering to keep helping him with research where I could. That morning, he sent me a picture album, and asked me to look for the people in it, his parent's old friends. It was a Christmas gift from Mister Hagrid, and he hadn't opened it, which worried me a bit. I started going through muggle and magical records, and the important bit I found was about his mother's family. Her sister married a man named Vernon Dursley, and lived with him in Little Whinging for twelve years. I discovered this, when I realized Harry never talked about where he lived, or his family. Vernon Dursley was sent to prison almost two years ago for child abuse and armed assault. His wife, Harry's aunt, called the police in after a fight with her husband, who had been beating Harry with a golf-club. Due to the severity of the crime, and undisclosed information suggesting a history of abuse of both Harry and Petunia, Vernon Dursley will be in prison for at least thirty years.
Harry never even looked inside the album about his parents; I talked with my parents, and they agreed that probably means very bad things. Would you please look into Harry for me?
-Hermione Granger.
McGonagall downed another shot of whiskey, and carefully considered her encounters with Harry Potter. The conversation she had with him after the Troll incident over Halloween almost immediately came to mind, and after taking the time to consider it more carefully, McGonagall realized two horrifying things. The first was that Harry had been judging her there, and had judged her as inadequate. The second was that it had been the only time she had ever seen past what she now knew had to be a facade of courteous distance.
Focusing furiously on remembering as best she could the details of the exchange she'd had with Harry, she tried to put herself in his shoes. It did not take her long to realize that to his point of view, she had told him to let the young Granger die. It took her an hour and most of the rest of the bottle of whiskey to admit to herself that when she looked beyond her need to assert her authority in the situation, Harry was actually right, which only made her feel even more like she had betrayed James and Lily. The next morning, a Saturday, she would remember who had placed Harry with his uncle, and the focus of her anger would change.
Her personal guilt, however, remained.
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"Hello Miss Granger," The youthful dark-haired woman said, "My name is Andromeda Tonks, your parents have hired me to be your tutor."
"Hello Miss Tonks," Hermione said quietly.
"Misses, actually," Andromeda said with a smile, "My daughter Nymphadora just graduated Hogwarts at the end of last year."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly as she looked her new teacher up and down again, startled at the implied age. Andromeda laughed lightly in response.
"Oh," She said, "I know by muggle standards I look much too young to have a daughter who is eighteen years old, but witches age more slowly than muggle women, and witches tend to marry younger than muggles do these days, usually at eighteen, right out of school."
Hermione was uncertain how to respond to this news, and it showed.
"This," Andromeda said, "Is just one of many cultural differences between the Muggle and Magical worlds I will be teaching you about."
A smile slowly built to blinding proportions upon Hermione's face.
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July:
"Why are you here?" Harry asked, staring blankly at his aunt.
Harry did not believe in revealing his emotions to anyone, but did not go out of his way to present a façade to his aunt either, and she could see the deeply entrenched anger and aggression that hid behind his blank look.
"I'm not stupid," Petunia said, "I've been watching what you study, the way you train yourself, I know what you want."
Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing.
"Those magical types," Petunia said, voice hitching slightly at the m-word, but she forced herself to move on, "Their world is different, but you want power, enough to guarantee your freedom and independence."
Harry's face became completely expressionless, but he still said nothing. Somehow, Petunia found this more disturbing, rather than less.
"There are seven different unarmed combat instructors within reasonable range," Petunia pressed on, a faint hint of fear entering her voice, "Two boxers, and five eastern martial artists. One of them even teaches fighting with weapons."
Harry's expression shifted subtly to a more thoughtful cast, and Petunia felt whatever threat that had held over her pass. Nearly a minute passed while Harry silently thought, and Petunia was glad for the time, allowing the tension to fade from her system, then Harry turned met her eyes with an intense gaze.
"What kind of weapons?" Harry asked intently.
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"Why do you want to learn the sword?" The short Japanese man said, directing the most intense gaze Harry had ever experienced at the nearly twelve-year old boy.
Harry found, to his considerable surprise, that he could not simply intimidate the man with his gaze, like other muggles he had encountered, and in further surprise, he seemed perfectly willing to wait for Harry to answer. It wasn't hard for Harry to tell that the man would spot any lie immediately and with ease.
"There are people who mean to kill me," He said simply, "I intend to gain every edge that I can."
The man's gaze intensified, and for the first time in many months, Harry found his fight or flight instinct acting up.
"You are too old for your age, young man," The Japanese man said, "Why do men hunt one so young?"
Harry took a moment to look around the Dojo, confirming what his ears had already told him, the students from the last class of the day had already left, leaving only Petunia, himself, and the teacher.
"For reasons it's not legal for me to tell you about," Harry said, extracting his pocket knife, and flipping open the blade.
He then proceeded to stab himself in the hand, repeatedly, forcefully. Aside from his hand being knocked back by the blows, it had no noticeable effect. Harry raised his undamaged hand and displayed it to the teacher pointedly, then folded his knife shut and replaced it in his pocket. The Japanese man stepped back, and closed his eyes in contemplation for a long moment.
"I must think on this," He said, opening his eyes to look at Harry again, "Return tomorrow at the same time, and we will speak again."
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That night, when Harry returned to his room, there was a strange creature waiting on his bed for him. Harry retrieved his wand and knife before he even recognized the bedraggled creature's species, long paranoia extremely disturbed with his living space being violated without him having realized it. Carefully controlling his reaction, he sheathed the knife, but kept his wand out.
"House Elf," He said calmly, "What is your name, who is your master, and why are you here?"
"Dobby is Dobby!" The creature burst out excitedly, "Dobby cannot speak of his bad master, and Dobby is here to keep The Great Harry Potter Sir from going to Hoggywarts! Hoggywarts is dangerousses this year! The Great Harry Potter Sir must stay safe!"
"Perhaps," Harry said evenly, "But it was dangerous for me last year as well, and in the long run, if I do not learn magic, I will be in even more danger."
The house elf's brow crinkled in consternation, and it nervously wrung its hands, clearly uncertain of what to do.
"While I appreciate your desire to protect me," Harry said, re-sheathing his knife, "Whatever particular foe awaits me at Hogwarts this coming year will be but one among many I face in the course of my life, and I cannot allow it to impair my continued growth and development. In addition, if I do not attend Hogwarts, it will draw attention that is dangerous to me in and of itself."
"But," Dobby said, "But, Harry Potter will be Killed if he goes to Hoggywarts this year!"
"I do not know what danger waits for me there," Harry said, "But I do know what dangers await me if I do not attend Hogwarts, and they have every chance of being lethal as well. Multiple different instances of lethality. Logically, it is better to expose myself to a single, unknown danger, rather than multiple known dangers of similar severity."
Dobby, already flustered and confused, was now on the verge of tears, indecision only raising his distress.
"I see this is distressing for you to hear," Harry said, "I am uncertain what to do, but thank you for the warning. Perhaps we could speak again another day, after we have both had time to think?"
The Elf nodded frantically, and disappeared with a pop, leaving Harry to his thoughts.
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"What do you desire first?" The Japanese man asked, "To defend, or to avenge?"
"To defend," Harry answered without hesitation.
"I will teach you."
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"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, smiling. "It's so good to see you again."
"It's good to see you too, Miss Granger," The elderly Scotswoman said, "I'd held quite high hopes for you as a student of Gryffindor."
Hermione smiled, blushing slightly. McGonagall smiled back.
"I asked to speak with you for two reasons," McGonagall said, "First, to check on your schooling progress, and second, to give you a personal response to your earlier letter to me concerning Harry…"
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A sharp popping sound drew Harry's attention from his studies, his wand out and facing the just-arrived house-elf in a flash.
"Hello Dobby," Harry said, lowering, but not releasing, his wand, "How are you?"
"Dobby is worried!" Dobby said, "He is knowing that the Great Harry Potter Sir is having many enemies now, and is not sureses how to helps him!"
"Well," Harry said, "I understand that you cannot tell me many things due to your bond with your master, but can you answer for me one thing?"
"If Dobby can, Dobby will," Dobby said.
"Is the threat to me specifically, or to the entire school?"
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Hermione, Hermione read in Harry's distinct, efficient hand-writing, I have another request to make of your fastidious services. I have received a warning that a threat to the entirety of Hogwarts exists this coming year, from a house-elf named Dobby. If you could attempt to discover whose service this Elf is bound to, and any other information you may think pertinent…
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McGonagall sighed, and set down the latest letter she had received from Miss Granger, her off hand automatically retrieving another bottle of whiskey as she contemplated its contents. As she poured her first drink for the evening, she idly considered beginning a system of rating the bushy-haired witches letters by the number of drinks associated with them.
"Sirius Bloody Black, she wants to know about," She grumped under her breath, then threw back the shot, "Someone should have looked over that album before Hagrid sent it to Harry; I suppose it's just as well he didn't look at it before he sent it on to Hermione."
She considered a second shot, but decided to hold off for now, and instead returned her attention to the letter.
The second matter that I wished to Owl you about, was the matter of Harry's residence. It was not at all difficult for me to discover, as he has been contacting me through conventional muggle mail during the summer, which includes his address. He is currently living at Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
Minerva had not expected that Harry's residence had changed, but she had seen no reason not to ask, since she was already in regular correspondence with the Granger girl.
As to the third matter, Harry has informed me that a House Elf has visited him during the Summer, warning him of a threat to the entirety of Hogwarts.
Minerva paused her reading to take another shot.
He requested I look into the matter, particularly to discover who owns the Elf, as it is the Elf's 'bad master' that is the source of the apparent threat. Publically available ministry property records reveal that the house elf Dobby is bound to the service of the Malfoy family. I have no idea what the threat is, but I thought you should be informed.
Minerva took her third shot.
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"You learn quickly," The short swordsman said after disarming Harry for the third consecutive time.
"I have great motivation," Harry replied, warily watching the older, but faster man's movements, reading his body posture to try to predict where and when he would strike.
His teacher moved, and Harry shifted right, eyes switching to the blade to track the specific details of its movement. He failed to catch the movement of his teacher's leg, and fell victim to a perfectly-executed leg sweep.
"Remember, Harry," The man said, "Attacks coming from unexpected avenues are often the most dangerous, both for you, and your enemies."
"Yes teacher," Harry said, rolling to his feet, accepting the return of his sword, and setting himself for another round.
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"Well then," Dumbledore said with a modest fraction of his usual joviality, looking around the staff room at the rest of the faculty, "Are there any other matters that require our attention?"
"Yes," McGonagall said, "As a matter of fact there is."
"If you'd care to enlighten us?" Flitwick asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I have received a warning that Lucius Malfoy is planning something of potentially lethal results within Hogwarts for the next academic year," McGonagall stated firmly.
A long, pregnant pause greeted that statement.
"I see," Dumbledore said, entirely serious now, "Minerva, where did this warning come from?"
"One of the Malfoy House-Elves," She replied, "Who apparently determined that he needed to warn young Harry Potter off of returning to Hogwarts this year, as his life would be in danger. Harry was good enough to pass the warning along, after inquiring whether the threat was to him specifically, or the school at large."
"Hogwash," Snape said dismissively, voice laden with derision, "Just the brat grubbing for attention. No need to-"
A harsh shattering sound interrupted Snape's burgeoning rant, and every eye turned to McGonagall, who now held the bloody shards of her water glass in her left hand.
"Tell me, Severus," She said, her voice dangerously even, "Upon what, exactly, do you base your opinion of young Mister Potter?"
"Isn't it obvious?" He said, his voice slightly more cautious as his gaze shifted from her bloody hand to her intense eyes, "He's ridden his fame onto the Quidditch team, is constantly drawing attention to himself in classes, the boy is a spoiled brat!"
"I have never found Mister Potter to be anything except diligent and attentive in his classes with me," McGonagall said, her tone becoming chill, "As a matter of fact, I specifically have to call upon him in order to get him to speak out in class. What about you, Filius, Pomona?" She turned her head to look at the two inquiringly.
"I would have to agree," Flitwick said quietly, while Sprout just nodded.
"Strange," McGonagall said, her voice now stern as she turned back to Snape, "How every member of the faculty who has taught Mister Potter except for you holds a directly contradictory opinion to yours, yet we are all in agreement as to his character. Why do you suppose that would be?"
"Because you're blinded by his fame," Snape said sharply, "Just like every-"
He was abruptly cut off as a wad of cloth appeared in his mouth at a flick of McGonagall's wand.
"That will be quite enough," McGonagall said flatly, "Your personal feud with James Potter bore at least some justification, in the fact that he was among the parties in the wrong, but your insistence upon prosecuting it upon his son is beyond inexcusable. If you were a fellow student, I would have you in detention for a week for your behavior, as you are a teacher, your are expected to be held to a higher standard, and as such, I am placing you on disciplinary probation, effective immediately, until such time as I have reason to believe you have reformed your ways."
Snape's eyes flared in rage, but it was Dumbledore who spoke.
"Now Minerva," He said in a conciliatory tone, "I think that may be a bit excessive, perhaps-"
"No Albus," She said harshly, cutting him off and turning to face him with fire in her eyes, "It is not. Do you remember the name Vernon Dursley?"
A moment of silence passed before he responded.
"Yes," He said hesitantly, "I do."
"Vernon Dursley," She said shortly, "Is currently serving his third of thirty years in prison, his primary crime being extreme child abuse."
Dumbledore suddenly became deathly still, but McGonagall was already turning her gaze to the other assembled faculty.
"Vernon Dursley," She said, "For those of you who were not aware, is the man who married Lily Potter's sister, and is also the man into whose care Albus entrusted Harry at the tender age of one."
Now everyone at the table was deathly still, the only perceptible movement being McGonagall's lips, as she spoke.
"I have been in correspondence concerning Harry Potter since just after Christmas," McGonagall said, "With one Hermione Granger. Perhaps some of you remember her, brilliant young Witch who was nearly killed by a Troll on Halloween?"
Several of the Faculty nodded hesitantly.
"Harry Potter saved her life on that day," McGonagall continued with cold precision, "And when she shared her story with her parents over Christmas break, they withdrew her from the school, and hired a private tutor for her. Considering that the faculty of this school are entirely to blame for her near death, and that it was a fellow student, not even a prefect, who saved her, I do not blame them in the slightest. Can anyone here, especially you, Albus, offer to me a satisfactory explanation as to why Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, required a first year's actions in order to prevent a fatality?"
None of them said a word.
"When I spoke with Mister Potter," She continued, "Immediately after the event, I of course chastised him for placing himself in danger, and a small argument ensued. I did not realize it at the time, but I was effectively arguing that he should have left Miss Granger to die, something he realized, and at the time, I did not. Considering Harry's history with other authority figures, particularly Severus and Vernon Dursley, I suspect that what little respect for authority Harry may have had, was at that point lost."
She carefully turned her eye to each member of the staff in sequence. Vector looked unsettled. Snape appeared to be in some form of shock. Sprout had taken on an unhealthy shade of green. Flitwick's face may as well have been carved of stone, but his eyes were focused in furious concentration. Sinistra's face bore an expression of disbelief. Trelawney, Grubbly-Plank, and the other teachers were absent, but Dumbledore's eyes carried a deep, deep sorrow within them.
"A loss of respect which is entirely justified," McGonagall continued, "According to Miss Granger, Vernon Dursley's last act of abuse was to attack Harry with a golfing iron, and was only prevented from killing him, by his wife risking her own death in attacking him. Harry was nine at the time."
Her full attention turned back upon Snape.
"You, Severus Snape," She said, her voice finally beginning to slip from its iron control, and hints of the brogue of her roots edging in, "Have judged an abused child from ignorance, and heaped your scorn upon him unjustly, not only as an adult, but as his teacher. The only reason I'm no' give you the sack, is because I failed to notice myself. Mark my words though, if you step one hair out of line with th' boy again, and I hear of it, I'll have you in my office t' account for yourself by the end of the day, and if you can't satisfy me, you'll be out on your ear. And don' think I won' be lookin' into what you've been doin' to me other Gryff's neither, Severus."
Silence reigned around the table for a full half minute as McGonagall and Snape locked furious gazes.
"Minerva," Albus said eventually, his tone cautious, "We cannot afford to lose-"
"YES WE BLOODY WELL CAN!" Minerva screamed, her face red as her head snapped around to face Dumbledore, every other member of the staff starting violently at her uncharacteristic outburst, "I WARNED YOU, ALBUS SODDING DUMBLEDORE, THAT THE DURSLEYS WERE THE WORST KINDS OF MUGGLES, BUT YOU DIDN' LISTEN, WELL YOU'LL BLOODY WELL LISTEN NOW. IF YOU TRY'N STOP ME FROM SACKIN' THE LOUT, IT"LL BE HIM OR ME!"
Every staff member at the table, including Dumbledore, recoiled sharply from McGonagall, and none said anything for long minutes, the only sound within the staff room McGonagall's harsh breathing as she gradually brought it, and her temper, under control, and the color in her face returned to normal.
"I have told you for years that Severus has too much free reign," McGonagall said, her tone hard, but even, "I draw the line here. If you attempt to overrule me again, not only will I resign, but I will attempt to persuade every staff member I can to leave with me, and send a letter to the parents of every single student recommending they withdraw their children until such time as both Snape, and you, are removed from Hogwarts."
To Dumbledore and the other senior staff members, who remembered McGonagall's younger years, when her temper was less even, this was even more shocking than her outburst.
"For too long, Albus," Minerva said, "Your have been too soft, and allowed petty bullies and tyrants to run free within this institution. This stops here, and now. If you will not get behind me on this, I will either see you removed from your position over the children, or see them removed from under you."
With that, she stood, and strode purposefully to the door.
"Now if you will excuse me," She said, "I will be going to see Poppy about my hand. And Severus," She added, looking back at the man, "Your probation includes removal as head of Slytherin house."
Snape finally tore the wad of cloth out of his mouth, and bit off a retort, but McGonagall had already left, and the other teachers were paying more attention to the puddle of blood and glass McGonagall had left on the table, while Dumbledore was lost in his own thoughts.
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"Therefore, in your deliberations, when seeking to determine the military conditions, let them be made the basis of a comparison, in this wise:
Which of the two sovereigns is imbued with the moral law?
Which of the two generals has the most ability?
With whom lie the advantages derived from Heaven and Earth?
On which side is discipline most rigorously enforced?
Which army is stronger?
On which side are the officers and men more highly trained?
In which army is there the greater constancy both in reward and punishment?
By means of these seven considerations I can forecast victory or defeat."
-Sun Tzu's Art of War, Chapter 1, Sections 12-14.
End Chapter 2.
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AN: Some readers have expressed concern about lack of character interaction, or writing certain characters out of the story. This story is an endeavour to write a realistic (or at least more so, within my limitations as an author) story as to how abused people respond to such behavior. It has since grown into an attempt to make other characters more realistic, such as Hermione, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and whoever else happens to crop up as significant. There are some things I had intended to do with the plot, that I have simply abandoned because the characters, realistically, would not behave in such a way. Harry is a social recluse in this story, because that is how abused people very often behave. The title 'Brutal Harry' more refers to a brutally utilitarian lifestyle than a Harry particularly prone to brutal acts, though sometimes that utiltarianism will result in acts almost anyone would consider brutal. All that said, a strong element of this story is intended to be overcoming the scars of abuse, at least to some degree, so all will not remain as it is.