In my world, I Do own Harry Potter. Sadly, in my world, the sky is also green all the time. So, no, in your demension, I don't own it.
And if I ever go two months without updating, I give you all permission to flame me.
Harry walked into the Great Hall next to Ron, the day after he had returned. Dumbledore was standing at the staff table, giving the promised announcements.
"And the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be Remus Lupin." A small cheer went up, it was loudest at Gryffindor. Remus was smiling, and blushing a little. "Two new classes have been added to the curriculum. The are required for students fifth year and up, and optional for third and fourth years. Advanced Defense Against Dark Arts, and Weapons. Both of these classes will be taught by Harry Potter, assisted by Ron Weasley." This was not met by so much enthusiasm.
"That's a direct insult to our intelligence!" one Ravenclaw seventh year yelled. Ron pulled his wand.
"I'll show you an insult-" Harry placed a hand on Ron's arm, calming him. Harry stepped foreword, and walked right up to the seventh year. Before the boy could say anything, Harry had a sword pressed against the throat.
"What do you do now? Do you scream? Do you attack back? You have a knife in your hand! Use it! Curse me! Stab me!" Harry ordered. The boys eyes were wide, and he was sweating profusely. "You froze. An attack came, and what did he do? He bloody froze. We call that a deer caught by a hunter. It is one of the most unintelligent things you can do in a battle. The logic behind it is basically 'If I don't move, they can't see me.' It does not work!" Harry stepped away from the other boy. "Have I insulted your intelligence yet? In most cases, to insult another persons intelligence, they must first have intelligence. Just from your reaction I can tell you are unintelligent."
"That kid'll need ice for that burn," Ron yelled. Harry sat beside Ron, glaring at the majority of the Hogwarts population.
"As you may have noticed, Mr. Potter is a master swordsman-"
"No, he just likes anything sharp, pointy, and murderous," Ron interrupted. Dumbledore ignored him.
"And he will mainly be teaching Swords. As for the defense class, he will be teaching Dueling, Healing, Wandless Magic, and mostly Auror level curses. Mr. Potter has informed me that it will be a mostly physical class, and that running clothes are required. He-"
"Oh! Let me do it, you crazy old man!" Harry said. "The class will test not only your magical capabilities, but you physical capabilities as well. None of you would last in a duel if it went over ten minutes. The longest I've ever lasted in was six hours, twelve minutes, and fifty two seconds. I won, of course, because the lazy ass I was dueling collapsed. Increased stamina helps dueling, as well as almost every other aspect of your life," Harry said.
"Your teaching Slytherins, too?" a Ravenclaw asked. Harry was quickly becoming fed up with Ravenclaws. "But they'll just use it to kill light wizards!"
"Personally, I do not care who you kill. I get paid either way," Harry said, shrugging. Hermione punched his shoulder, Hard.
"Harry, that's cruel!" Hermione shrieked.
"That's life," Harry replied. "Anybody that can't stand being with Slytherins, well, they don't have to go to class. As it is required, they will just have to go through life, knowing they got a 'T' in the exams. And I'll make sure that everybody who fails my class can get any job in the Wizarding world," Harry finished.
"And the other shoe falls," Ron said. Hermione stared at him. Harry sat down, and began buttering toast. Hermione leaned over to him and whispered in his ear.
"Can you really do that?"
"Probably not." Hermione grinned, and it almost could have been considered evil.
"You're a menace to society as whole," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
"No, I'm just a freak who likes death metal." Harry stood and left the hall, leaving behind two very confused girls, and a house full of terrified, twitching Ravenclaws.
Lunch was an altogether different affair. Since September second happened to land on a Saturday, they didn't have any classes yet. Harry sat down, listening to music.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat down around him a moment later. Harry suddenly thought of something, stood up, and sprinted out of the room
"He is an odd one, isn't he?" Ginny asked.
"But he's loaded. Wait, Harry, come back here," Ron said. Harry barely heard it, and turned around. "Are you playing Quidditch this year?"
"No. I-" Harry couldn't begin to explain, as people from Gryffindor began hurling food at him. Most of it hit him, but, being of Elven descent, it didn't leave any trace of anything on him. "FREEZE!" Harry yelled. Everybody in the hall found that they were totally unable to move. "Now, let me explain. I will not be playing Quidditch this year, because between fourteen classes, and two more to teach, I will not have the time to play," Harry said calmly. He unfroze everybody, and all of Gryffindor glared at him, while the Slytherins cheered.
"Traitor! You bloody traitor!" Seamus yelled. Most people in the house agreed with the Irish boy. "You're going to let Slytherin beat us!"
"Here's a novel idea. If you don't want Slytherin to beat you, try actually practicing. You can't rely on one person to win any game," Harry said, scornfully.
"He thinks he's better than us!" Dean Thomas roared, standing up.
"No. I'm simply saying that you put too much stock behind one player on the team. It takes two to tango. And it takes seven to win a Quidditch game." Harry began walking out of the hall again. "Man, why must I do everything?"
"Harry, all you do is sit and complain about the people around you all day," Ron called, chasing his friend out of the hall.
The first class Harry taught was on the next Monday, at six in the morning. Dumbledore had volunteered to observe the class. Harry was waiting impatiently for people to enter the Great Hall, where the class was to take place. The last people entered the room.
"You're late!" Harry barked at them. The looked at him, confused.
"It's just now six in the morning!" exclaimed Padma Patil.
"You're on time if you're five minutes early. You're late if you're on time. Get here on time tomorrow!" Harry ordered. The three sixth year girls looked horrified.
"You mean to say that this class is at six, every morning?!" Parvati Patil nearly screamed. "Do you know how early this is?"
"I am well aware of the position the sun holds in the sky at the present time. But imagine this. Voldemort will not attack when we're eating in the Great Hall. He will attack when we are asleep in our beds, naïve to the world around us. Sleep is the time when we are the most vulnerable. If you can minimize your sleep requirement, while increasing your energy levels, lack of sleep will be no issue. I sleep four hours a day, at the most.
"On to more important matters. I want everybody to remove anything that signifies a house. Anybody that walks into this class displaying house colors will have those colors turned into an obnoxious mix of pink and puke green. For a week. Line up alphabetically, starting with Abbott. MOVE!" Harry barked when nobody saw fit to follow his command.
The students lined up around the hall, in twelve lines. Harry made sure everybody was there, before beginning. He was standing on a raised platform where the teachers usually ate, with Ron right beside him.
"Right, for the first hour, we'll work on dueling. Can anybody tell me the first rule of dueling?" Harry asked. Terry Boot raised his hand, looking excited. Harry called on him.
"Always bow," the Ravenclaw answered. Harry smiled, but shook his head.
"Close, but no. The first rule is to never duel somebody you know you can't beat. So, right now, Ron and I will pair you off. You partner will not be from your house, nor will it be someone we know you are friends with already. If you can't work together, you won't work at all," Harry said, and he and Ron began the pairing off.
In the end, both teachers were getting very angry, disgruntled looks. Malfoy didn't seem to like the fact that he was working with Luna Lovegood. Harry and Ron both once again stood on the platform.
"Good, now to stretch," Harry said happily. Ron rolled his eyes. "Another goal of this class is to increase flexibility. The further you can stretch, the better you'll do in a duel."
Ron and Harry led the class through a set of stretches, causing most of the students to glare. Harry jumped up.
"Right then. Now, Ron and I will show you a duel, as an example." Before Harry could turn around, Ron sent a curse at his back. He felt it coming, and he ducked, stuck out his leg, and then spun around. Ron was knocked of balance, and fell over.
Both were able to get back up, and curses, hexes, and jinxes were sent at a mind boggling speed. Not one word was uttered by either. A curse, that would have hit Harry in the stomach, was sent right at him. He leaned back, so that his back and legs were nearly parallel. His head was only inches above the ground. His legs flipped over after his head, and he stood wand pointed at Ron.
A few of the students gasped.
As the duel went on, curses became darker, until the became near deadly. Ron was sweating, and Harry's wrist was cramping. Ignoring it, as he had learned to do, he sent a curse at Ron, the same time one was sent at him.
"Caecus," Ron bellowed. Harry had wordlessly sent the same spell at him, a moment before. Ron was hit with the spell, but Harry moved out of its way.
"Animadverto," Harry said quietly. Ron, who had been blinded, could now see again. Ron surrendered. They turned to see the class, and Dumbledore, staring at them in shock and disbelief. "Yes?"
"That. Was. Awesome!" Colin Creevy exclaimed. "How did you do that?"
"Do what?" Harry asked.
"The back flip!" Colin answered. The boys eyes seemed to have taken over half of his face. A few of the other third, fourth, and fifth year students looked the same way.
"Just something I practiced. It is different here, though, because I'm not jumping off of something. Now, with your partner, I want you to duel. Nothing that will cause permanent, fatal, or otherwise harmful injuries. In fact, nothing above third year curses. Begin," Harry commanded.
He and Ron walked around, correcting mistakes. Harry made it to Neville before he blew up Hannah Abbott. He smiled at his dorm mate as he approached.
"Neville, you need to say the spell with a little less force. If you put too much power behind the binding curse, you run the risk of making them go completely still," Harry said. This only served to confuse the poor boy further.
"Isn't that the point?" Neville asked.
"To a certain extent. This spell is meant to stop only the bones from moving. With enough power, it will stop the lungs, heart, and blood flow." Neville seemed to go white, but he nodded and turned back to an equally pale Hannah. Harry walked away from them, and over to Malfoy and Luna.
Luna had Malfoy bound, gagged, and blindfolded. Harry smiled at her.
"Nice work," he said, grinning. She smiled at him, and her eyes seemed very focused.
"He insulted Neville," she said, airily. Harry's grin widened. Luna sat on Malfoy's stomach. "I considered turning him into a ferret, but I decided against it."
"Very good, carry on." It took all the composure Harry had not to burst into laughter as he walked away. It seemed Ron had noticed Malfoy's predicament, and was having a harder time than Harry.
"Stop," Harry said, standing on the platform. All movement ceased. "Very good. This will give You will notice in this class that you will also learn things that you should and should not do in a duel. Insulting your opponent is one of them. Sometimes it causes them to lose concentration, but other times it gives them the hate necessary to use the Cruciatus curse. Be cautious of what you say in a duel," Harry said, pointing to Malfoy. A few people laughed slightly.
"On to sword fighting," Ron said, excitedly. Harry nodded, and silently asked Ron who should talk. Ron shook his head. Harry remembered Ron hated public speaking.
"Right-o," Harry began. Two people walked into the hall at that moment. Snape and McGonagall. Both motioned for him to continue, as they sat with Dumbledore against the left wall. "As it would be stupid to hand all you swords ant tell you to have at it, Ron and I will-"
"You should know, Potter, that decent purebloods are taught how to handle swords from a very early age," Malfoy sneered. He had been helped up by one of his housemates.
"It would be a miracle, then, if one of these pureblood parents could teach there kids how to not be bested in a duel," Harry said airily. Pink tinted Malfoy's cheeks. "But, if you really believe so, why don't you show us?" Harry asked, drawing a sword. It was long, and pointy. Ron gasped and stumbled backwards.
"Harry! Do you know what that is!?" Ron screamed. Harry grinned.
"Why, I do believe it's a sword, Ronald," Harry said.
"That's- It's- how?" Ron asked weakly. "That's the Most powerful sword, left of Excalibur itself!"
"I'm a very special person. Anduril has come to be very temperamental. Besides, I found a lot of pretty toys this summer. Scimitars, knives, arrows. It's only right that I have Anduril, too," Harry said, grinning. "Come on, Malfoy. Surely you, a pureblood, aren't afraid of sword fighting my halfblood self, are you? Even better, I was raised by muggles, so you should beat me easy!"
Malfoy walked up to the platform, and realized he didn't have a sword. "Here, use this." Harry handed Anduril to Malfoy.
"What are you doing, you bloody loon?" Ron exclaimed.
"No. I'd rather use this one," Harry said, pulling out another sword. Ron paled further.
"You stole the Witchking's sword?"
"And his ring," Harry said, gesturing to his right hand, where four rings were.
"What did you do, mug his corpse?" Ron asked, jumping off the platform.
"That is exactly what I did," Harry replied, swinging the sword in a test move.
"Weirdo," Ron muttered.
"More like 'roots for the evil person even after they die', but okay," Harry said. Malfoy was admiring Anduril. He looked over to Harry, and bowed. Harry had his sword resting on the back of Malfoy's next before he could move. "Give up?"
"You can't do that! Bowing is necessary!" Malfoy barked. Harry smiled.
"Ah, you don't sword fight. You sword swing. I'm in this to draw blood. Your type of fight is for honor, mine is for victory. Common misconception. First to bleed loses," Harry said.
"You're crazy, Potter," Malfoy spat. The blonde charged forward, swinging the sword. Harry stepped to the side, then stuck his foot out, tripping the other boy.
"Oops. Got to be careful, Malfoy. It's hard to keep your footing on this totally flat platform, with nothing in the way at all to trip over." Malfoy stood in a fighting position, but Harry's was better. While Malfoy could only move forward, and keep his balance, Harry could move in any direction.
Malfoy directed an attack at Harry's legs, but Harry jumped up, and brought his sword down, cutting his opponents shirt. Malfoy looked startled, but settled back into an attack position. Harry did the same, but this time he aimed an attack at Malfoy's torso.
Malfoy fell backwards, landing on his back painfully. The blade clattered out of his hand, and he stared at Harry, then his dropped sword.
Harry's hand lashed out, cutting a paper cut size cut on Malfoy's forehead. Harry walked away, picking up Anduril as he did so.
"Yes, it appears purebloods are taught how to sword fight. There is one person in this room I would be afraid to sword fight. That would be professor Snape, because I'm not stupid enough to hand him a sword and say 'attack me!'," Harry said. He put away the Witchking's sword, and held Anduril.
The class went on from there. When the class ended, the students left to change into cleaner clothes before breakfast. Harry moved the tables back into place.
"Well, that was… enlightening," Snape said, neutrally. Harry could tell he was impressed.
"Hmph," Harry said, sitting down. "I say we give half the class slingshots and tell them to have at it," Harry growled. Ron laughed.
"Don't worry, Harry. I'll take the less advanced ones-"
"The ones that have no hope in hell," Harry corrected.
"-And you take the ones that stand a chance," Ron finished. Harry nodded. "Now you have to tell me. Where did you get the Witchking's sword!"
"Told you. He was killed, I took it. And his Ring. Aragorn gave me Anduril. I somehow managed to get the ring from a king of man, But if I remember correctly, Elrond gave that to me-"
"Who else gave you stuff?" Ron demanded.
"Aragorn gave me his ring," Harry said. Ron's jaw tightened. "Oh! I almost forgot! Elrond told me to give this to you!" Harry took a dagger out of his pocket, and handed it to Ron. Ron looked shocked.
"Harry… I can't take this!"
"Oh bloody hell. First you complain that you didn't get anything, now you won't take what you were given? And you called me a loon?" Harry asked. Ron picked up the dagger.
"But this is… expensive!" Ron exclaimed. It was an Elvish dagger, with ornate carvings about the handle.
"So is the Uruk Hia machete-thing I have. Man that thing could take a leg right off the body. But, this is special. It has poison in the blade, that injects into the wound as it stabs. I, uh, took the liberty of filling the poison chamber for you. Hehehe," Harry walked out of the hall, giggling insanely. Ron admired the dagger some more.
"I wonder what poison he put in here…?" Ron wondered aloud. Severus snorted beside Albus.
"Is it not obvious, Weasley? Basilisk Poison," Severus said. Albus felt his eyebrows begin to rise. Ron, who had the tip of the dagger an inch from his finger, paled.
"Then that would be…" Ron trailed off. "Bloody awesome," Ron muttered as he left the hall. Students started to file in, mostly first and second years. After a time, third years and up traveled in.
Albus left the hall, for the privacy of his own office. It became a tad less private, though, when a knock sounded from the door. Albus had been unaware of a visitor, so he had no idea who to expect.
"Come in," he called. The door opened, and the headmaster was surprised to see Harry. "Harry, I was not expecting you," Albus said, gesturing Harry to sit.
"Odd. I do remember Ron telling me last night that you wished to see me this very morning," Harry said, grinning. The boy sat down heavily in the chair across from Albus. The headmaster leaned forward, looking at Harry. "You see, I came to the conclusion, long ago, that you were not in your right mind. How could you be? I mean, you've let death eaters into the school left and right, you allowed the chamber of secrets to be opened, not once, but twice.
"And for the longest time, I blamed you for the death of Sirius," Harry said. Albus briefly wondered what Harry was playing at. "But, after a particularly nasty blow to the head, I came to realize that it was all a lie. I've realized you were not to blame for those events, or for the death of Sirius. They were all tragic twists of fate, and you were not to blame in any way, for anything." When Harry finished, he nodded, almost to himself, and looked up at Albus, from the spot he had been staring at on the floor.
Albus, for his part, had no idea what to say. He knew that what Harry had just said had been a twisted apology, but he had no idea how to respond. He was saved the trouble, though, when Harry continued.
"So… I'm sorry," Harry said. Albus looked at Harry, and he suddenly saw the slightest flash of the naïve little eleven year old boy that had nervously walked into Hogwarts five years ago. That moment passed, and Albus recognized the strong man that Harry had grown into, seemingly over night.
"Harry, the other night, young Ronald mentioned something about you being immortal. Care to elaborate?" Albus asked. Harry seemed to raise an eyebrow at the change of subject, but the young man didn't object.
"It would seem that both of my parents had elf blood in them. When the two lines met… I am over half elf. But, Ron was wrong. I chose not immortality, but a mortal life. Immortality does not suit me," Harry shrugged, and the boys eyes drifted off to land on Fawkes. The phoenix in question spread his wings, and took off from his perch, landing on Harry's knee.
Albus truly thought he would glow with pride for days.
"Harry, that is the most amazing thing I've ever heard anybody say," Albus said. Harry looked away from the bird, and smiled at him.
"Well, let that make up for things I may or may not say in the near future, then. I'm going to become very stressed, very quick," Harry said. Albus wasn't sure if Harry had meant that as an insult to him, but the smile on the other mans face changed his mind. Harry had simply been stating the truth.
"Can I have the pictures back, then?" Albus asked, hopefull.
"Not in this lifetime," Harry replied, laughing. Albus continued, a bit dissapionted.
"Yes, well, another thing I need to speak to you about. As a professor-" Albus ignored the odd twitch from Harry "-you are allowed to visit Hogsmeade anytime you are not in class, and you have no curfew. You may give and take points, but they must be fair, and not biased. Can you handle that?" Albus asked, resisting the urge to smirk at the wholly crushed look on Harry's face.
"Fine. Ruin my fun. I can agree to that. But you have informed the house elves that coffee is required at the Gryffindor table, at all meals, right?" Harry asked, with a lopsided grin only a teenage boy could pull off.
"Of course. Wouldn't want you falling asleep while sword fighting, now would we?" Albus joked. Harry rolled his eyes. Albus was struck by just how immature Harry could act, given the option. "Harry, are you still going to make the speech tonight? Minister Fudge has asked to be in attendance, along with a reporter from the Daily Prophet."
"I look foreword to it!" Harry said, grinning maniacally. Albus did NOT like that look.
"You scare me a little, Harry." Harry only grinned in response.
Harry walked into the Great Hall that night, and nearly turned around and walked out. The room had been magically expanded, fitting almost two hundred extra people in it.
"Harry? You listening?" Ron asked. Harry nodded, and focused his attention on his best friend. "So, you think I could take Aragorn in a
battle?" Ron asked. Harry stopped in his tracks.
"No. Don't even try. Just… no. It wouldn't work," Harry stated.
"Oh, and you're soo much better than me?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, yes," Harry said simply. Both of them sat down at the Gryffindor table. Ron punched his arm. "Oh sweet heaven, I'm mortally wounded," Harry stated dryly.
"Asshole," Ron said, loudly. "Thinking just because you're Harry Potter, that you're better than everybody else. Hmph," Ron growled. Harry smiled darkly.
"But of course. Ay, Hermione!" Harry said, gaining the attention of the girl across from them. She looked up and smiled. "Your boyfriend is mocking me!" whined Harry. Hermione grinned.
"You probably deserve it. And Ron, don't you dare mock Harry!" Hermione snapped, smirking. Ron gawked. He then turned on his friend.
"Harry, give me you MP3 player," Ron demanded. Harry raised an eyebrow, but did so anyway. Ron seemed to find a particular song, and he turned it on, full blast, then put the earphones over Hermione's ears. He used a sticking charm to keep them there.
Hermione's eyes slowly began to widen. Because she could not hear her own voice, she raised it to a level where she could hear it. "Teenaged boys are undoubtedly the most vile creatures to walk this earth!" she screamed. All movement and sound in the hall stopped. "That's disgusting! Is THIS what you really talk about when we leave the room!?"
She didn't seem to notice that a thousand and a half people were staring at here.
"That's nothing. You've barely made it past the chorus," Harry said. Ron was laughing so hard that tears were falling down his face. Dean and Seamus had caught on, having heard the song the night before, and they found it funny, too.
In fact, they started singing.
A few women in the general area turned green, but the men laughed. Seamus and Dean stood up. "Yes, we know, we'll be in the headmasters office, then," Dean said. And they continued to sing out of the hall.
"Very well," Dumbledore said, standing up. "Will everybody please take a seat? Good. I had not planned on quite so many people, and so I hope you are all comfortable. After the feast that has been prepared, we have a special guest speaker to make a speech. Tonight we will honor those already lost to us in the war. But first, we will feast in their honor!" Dumbledore said, and the tables filled with food.
Harry noticed Aragorn, Gimli, Elrond, Legolas, and GanMerdalflin seated to the right of Dumbledore. Fudge and Percy sat on the headmasters left, much to the Minister chagrin. The right side was a place of honor. Harry smirked.
The feast went smoothly, until halfway through. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when Dobby appeared next to him.
"Harry!" the small elf whispered frantically. Harry leaned down a bit, putting down his knife and fork.
"What?" he whispered back.
When Dobby finished explaining the situation, Harry stood up abruptly. People stopped eating to look at him.
"Thank you, Dobby," Harry said quietly. Louder, he went on, "I'll be back." He turned sharply, and walked out of the hall, and up the stairs.
Albus watched Harry leave, wondering where the man was going. Knowing Harry would be back in time for his speech, Albus went back to his talk with Elrond and Merlin. But it was not to be. Fudge interrupted.
"Dumbledore, you shouldn't let him have control of your school like this. It's not healthy. And what do I hear of him teaching? He is but sixteen!" the generously proportioned man said. Quietly, so as to not draw attention to it, Albus changed the ministers wine into grape juice.
"He is seventeen, and the most experienced swordsman I have on hand, thank you very much," Albus choked out, his throat threatening to close. Something about the ministers very voice made him angry.
"What can a boy know of real battle?" Fudge rumbled on.
"Oh six of this, half a dozen of that," Albus replied evenly. "Harry has certainly seen more of this war than you have, Fudge. He's no ordinary sixteen year old boy."
"He's no ordinary human," Aragorn supplied. Albus felt Fudge tense. Albus blew out a breath.
"And what would that mean? Who are you?" Fudge demanded. Aragorn pulled himself to his full, seated, height.
"I am Aragorn. Harry is not a normal human. He is over half Elf," Aragorn said.
"ELF!?!" Fudge exploded. Talk in the hall quieted a bit. "Elves are not permitted to own wands! Willfully breaking the law! I Told you, Albus, that Potter is nothing but a fraud, and a criminal!"
"That is Professor Dumbledore to you, Fudge. Personally, I do believe that Harry is a hundred times more powerful than you yourself are. Human, Elf, Dwarf, we are all beings on this earth. Humans do not rule over other creatures," Albus said, his tone cold.
"Are you calling me a creature?" Legolas asked, his tone even and quiet, but it traveled the hall.
"I'm dining with an Elf?" Fudge exclaimed, disgust written on his purple face.
"Ah, not only one Elf, but the prince of Mirkwood, and the Lord of Rivendell. To any normal person, this would be seen as a high honor. Not only that, but you are also dining with a King, and a man whose knowledge would surpass you, and all those before you, even those yet to come," Elrond said, his customary scowl in place.
"But you can all do magic, can you not?" Fudge asked. Gandalf leaned foreword.
"Of the five of us, I am the only one gifted in that craft," the old man answered. Fudge turned an even darker shade of red. Albus saw Harry walk in, and he quickly stood up.
"Ah! May I introduce our guest speaker, Harry Potter!" Albus said. People swiveled in there seats to get a better look at Harry.
Harry was standing at his menacing height of six foot four, his short hair spiked up, making him look a bit taller. The mans skin was a soft white, but not pale. When Albus looked closely, he could see a bit of a point at the top of Harry's ear.
Albus came to the distinct conclusion that Harry wanted people to think he's strange. The boy was wearing black shorts that went halfway down his calf, and a dark green sleeveless shirt. To add insult to injury, Harry had somehow acquired a tattoo, written in a swirling language that Albus could not read, on his upper right arm.
Albus noted with a sigh that Harry's shirt said, quite boldly 'ANARCHY!'
Harry smirked slightly. "Hello," came his smooth reply to his introduction. Harry came foreword to stand on the raised area the staff table was on. He faced the general audience. "First off, I would like to take a moment to explain something to you. You see, when Dumbledore asked me to make this speech, he did not tell me that five hundred extra people were to show up. He said it would be the Minister, and a reporter. If I sound nervous, it's because, well, I am.
"But to my topic. We are here to honor those fallen in this war with Voldemort." Harry began listing those fallen, and a few people looked shocked when he listed death eaters, also. He finished his long list, at last (he had done his research). "A few people that need to be specially noted. The Longbottoms, Frank and Alice. Aurors, they were. Brave to the very end. Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry spat the name with hatred, "tortured them into insanity, mostly for her own sick pleasure.
"Barty Crouch Jr. AND Sr.. Jr. was sucked soulless by a Dementor, before he could tell of his service to the dark lord, after his father had sprung him from Azkaban. Ah, not all of you knew that one, did you? Sr. died trying to trying to tell Albus Dumbledore of Voldemort's upcoming return, after the man had been forced under the Imperious curse for a year.
"Lucius Malfoy," Harry went on, shocking some people, "is a man of high intellect, ambition, and cunning. He is the epitome of Slytherin. This isn't a bad thing. Three days ago he was given the Dementors Kiss. Lucius Malfoy was a man with power, both monetary and magical. While Light sided wizards believe he was just evil, and nothing more, he had the respect of every magical person, whether it be willingly given, or grudgingly. Had he been on the side of the Light, there is no doubt in my mind that he would have been an amazing man.
"The next, and final person I wish to point out, is one very dear to me. Say one word, Fudge, and I will have you out of here," Harry added, turning around. Without waiting for a response, he went back to his speech. "Sirius Black was my godfather, and a wonderful man." Hisses and gasps met Harry, but he silenced them with a glare. "He was murdered, just last June, attempting to save my life. Bellatrix Lestrange murdered him, pushing him through the Veil of Death. Needless to say, I now wish for that b-woman's blood spread across all the continent.
"Pureblood, halfblood, muggleborn, squib, muggle, these are not important. We all want the same things in life. Food on the table, a place to call home, someone to love, a few kids, maybe, and money in the bank. Are these things not entitled to all beings? Believe it or not, you are not Divinely chosen to be a pureblood, or a muggle, or the like. Put yourself in the position of a muggle. They have not what we take for granted.
"If they want to cook something, they cannot spell utensils to stir food, and sponges to wash dishes. They do it by hand. They can not simply appear in another place at will. Nor can they travel through a fireplace.
"It is soo much easier to be a wizard. Muggles have it rough, and what do we do? We try to make their life as hard as we can. Why do I say 'we'? My only relatives alive are muggles. They know not the difference between 'Light' and 'Dark' magic. 'Good' and 'Bad' magic. They see only magic. From the beliefs they hold, we, all of us as a whole, are evil people.
"What proof, might I ask, do we have to prove otherwise? My grandparents on my mothers side (my aunts mother) was tortured, raped, and killed by wizards. Muggles only have bad, if any, experience with magic. Who are we to judge them? When we, as a society, could not fill their shoes?" Harry asked. The crowd looked a little uncomfortable. Good, keep 'em on their toes.
"No, I'm not done yet," Harry said. A few people laughed. "The people who have died in this war, Light or Dark, died believing they had helped their cause. All of these people, ALL of them, are heroes, in their own way. Do not curse the dead hippogriff. The fallen followers of Dark died, for the same reasons as the fallen Light. They believe that they're idea is right, and they were willing to die for their cause.
"To end this little speech, I will leave you with a thought. Do you think that if Tom Riddle (who is Voldemort) would have gone so far down the path of Evil if he had grown up in a loving family, rather than in a cruel orphanage? Do you think that if he had been raised by wizards, he would grow up to be so hateful towards muggles? In your opinion, do you think that if Tom Riddle had ever had a friend, he would have been lost to the Light? Evil people aren't born. They're made. Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen," Harry said, stepping from the stage.
His speech, in total, took five minutes. Unknown to anyone in the hall, that would be the most well remembered speech in all of the Wizarding history. Harry walked out of the completely silent hall. Not one word was spoken as he passed.
Harry made it to his dorm, where he instantly flopped onto a couch, and cracked a book. It was fifteen minutes before other Gryffindors came in after him.
"Harry!" Hermione said, sitting on the couch across from him. "That was amazing! You should have seen the look on Fudge's face!"
"Absolutely priceless!" Ron said, throwing Harry's feet to the ground and sitting down. He ignored Harry's growl, and continued. "Man, and the reporters got it word for word, too! Did you see MALFOY'S face? Brilliant, Harry. Short, though."
"Straight to the point. That's my theory." Harry rolled his eyes, and sat all the way up. "I'm going to get to bed. See you in the morning, six sharp," said Harry, starting to the boys dorm.
" 'Night, Harry," echoed behind him.
Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, after his class had finished. And he was hungry. He pulled the closest plate to him, and began eating whatever was on it. Ron sat down next to him, and did the same thing.
The room filled up quickly, and soon sounds of people happily eating sounded around the room.
Today, the class had been split into groups. Ron's group was the less advanced group; the ones that had no hope in hell.
Harry's group was made up of the elite; the ones that knew how to hold a sword and wand properly.
Harry wanted to cry.
Before he had the chance, though, two voices could be heard from right outside the castle. Singing. The entrance doors were open, because it was such a nice day. Fred and George Weasley were singing, and coming into the castle.
"We're not gonna pay
We're not gonna pay
We're not gonna pay
Last year's rent! This year's rent!
Next year's rent
Rent rent rent rent rent
We're not gonna pay rent!!
'Cause everything is RENT!!!"
Harry stared at them. Both were off key, off tune, and just on time. The twins had made it in the great hall, and took an exaggerated bow.
"Harry-"
"-We-"
"-Kinda-"
"-Need-"
"-Your-"
"-Help," the twins finished together. Harry raised an eyebrow, and set down his fork. "Here's the story. See, we just got new premises in Hogsmeade. But, the landlord is a… meanie head," Harry saw them look at the nearest first year before they amended the word, " and we need you to, uh, help."
"Hm. Okay. Sounds FUN. Let's Go. You're buying me breakfast for this, though. Come on, Ron." Harry pulled Ron to his feet. Ron growled, but went anyway. Harry poked his rib, just to antagonize him. Halfway out of the castle, Harry couldn't get that song out of his head. So, just to bother everyone else, he began singing it.
"How can you connect in an age
Where strangers, landlords, lovers
Your own blood cells betray!
What binds the fabric together
When the raging, shifting winds of change
Keep ripping away!
Draw a line in the sand
And then make a stand!
Use your camera to spar
Use your guitar
When they act tough - you call their bluff"
"Shut up, Harry!" Ron snapped. Harry smiled at him. Ron glared angrily.
The walk to town was spent in silence. Once they reached the Iron Gate, Harry turned to the twins.
"Define 'meanie head'," He said. They looked between each other.
"He wants to charge us two thousand galleons a month. Right now, he wants three months worth of rent. Tomorrow," the twins said. Harry nodded.
"Anything else?" he asked casually.
"He's a huge fan of yours," Fred noted, a smirk on his face. Harry also smirked. He led the way to the new shop, and stopped at the door. George opened it. "He should be here in a minute."
As soon as the door closed behind them, it was opened again.
"Fred, I think this place is perfect for OUR new shop," Harry said, ignoring the man in the doorway. He became hard to ignore, however, when he began speaking.
"Who are you?" Harry turned to see the mans face. He was a short man. His face was long and narrow, giving a shrewd look to the man. He looked, overall, like a business man.
"I'm Harry Potter. I'm the financial backer of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Who, might I ask, are you?" Harry asked. The man didn't speak for a moment.
"I- I'm, uh… Duncan Shnitter, sir. I own this building. I'm here to discuss the rent with these fine men," Shnitter said, nodding to the twins.
"No. You're here to discuss rent with me. What's your price?" Harry asked. Straight to the point, as always.
"Um, five hundred galleons a month," Shnitter said. Harry raised an eyebrow, causing the other man to stutter for a moment. "How about two fifty a month?"
"That sounds agreeable. Deal." It was twenty minutes before the deal was made final. Harry and Ron went back up to the castle after the signing of the contract, which Shnitter had stared at for nearly a minute, when he saw Harry's signature.
"So, mate, how are things going with my sister?" Ron asked, halfway to the castle. Harry hummed for a moment, and pretended not to hear "Harry."
"Oh. Good, good. How are things with you and Hermione?" Harry asked. "Planning the first child, yet? You do know that you have to name your fist son after me, right?"
Harry ran, and Ron chased. Harry ran through the open castle doors, with Ron right on his heels. Then Harry crashed into something. Ron followed. Oh, it was a person.
Oh NO. It was Dumbledore. All three men went sprawling to the floor. Harry landed on his head, at an odd angle. Ron landed on his arm, while Dumbledore just fell backwards.
"Ah, damn, I got blood on my shirt," Harry said. He then realized that it must be HIS blood, so he must be bleeding. He felt his head, and realized there was a gash from his temple, to the top of his head, where the skin had split open. "Hmm. This really should hurt," Harry said. "I'm worried to note that it doesn't, though."
"Harry, you're covered in blood," said Ron.
"Thank you, Ron. Next time I need something so obvious pointed out, I'll ask you." Harry healed his head, and stood up. "Oi. The healing hurt more than the cut. Come on Ron," said Harry. Then he walked up with stairs, disregarding Dumbledore.
Harry and Ron went to classes as usual, and Harry managed to cause Crabbe's potion to blow up. Twice.
It was ten thirty when Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione went down to the Great Hall for the Order meeting. But not in a way that anyone would have imagined.
Is this a cliff hanger? Hmm. How did they show up? Tune in… Next time I update!
I may post a companion piece, explaining exactly what happened in Middle Earth. Or, when I'm done with this, I'll rewrite it from different P.O.V.'s. I don't know.
And for those of you who missed it, Dumbledore will be good and nice in this fic. It's important to the plot later.
I've posted a side fic! An explanation about the pictures Harry took of Albus and Minerva.
MountainDew-IsDeadly