So, I'm not quite sure where all this was going, but whatever...and I think I gave too much away, but again, whatever...so just enjoy and I'll be working on...something

But this chapter is interesting because you get to see a bit of Harry's dark side

Intent, the Fourth

Harry froze in place, hand automatically falling to his messenger bag, and listened carefully.

"He's definitely not himself, sir," Hermione was saying, "and he wasn't in his dorm tonight…I've tried to get him to return to his proper behavior, but nothing I do seems to work, and the more I pay attention to him the more different I realize he's becoming."

Harry scrunched up his brows and quickly reviewed his recent behavior, nothing stood out as being completely strange, but altogether Harry could see why his behavior would alarm someone who was looking too closely.

But Harry had managed to keep up his act so well…what could be changing…?

Harry pushed his forehead against the wall of the secret passage he was in, and felt the jolt of magic from Hogwarts tingle straight through him and settle down along the waves of his own magic.

"I must keep a closer eye on him then," Dumbledore said mournfully, "we might be loosing him to the dark side."

Harry found himself biting down a full fledged burst of laughter at that comment…Harry didn't see himself as Luke Skywalker though…or Darth Vader, since that was clearly where Dumbledore was going with that insinuation.

"Do you really think so, sir?" Hermione demanded, sounding breathless with fear.

This reminded Harry of the poorly written soap operas his Aunt Petunia used to watch, and then he realized he was playing the part he would have had in said soap opera by listening to this entire stupid conversation. Harry shook his head and prepared to leave.

"What you tell me concerns me, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied, "Harry has been difficult before, but never to this degree. I am beginning to wonder whether my protections have effect on him anymore."

This drew Harry's attention, apparently his behavior was telling, more so than that, apparently Dumbledore was still trying to manipulate his behavior, and Harry hadn't noticed.

This was most definitely what had put Dumbledore on his case, but Harry could have sworn that Dumbledore had given up on trying to control his behavior…at least since that week or two back in third year.

But perhaps Harry had done something to have Dumbledore attempt it again.

This Harry needed to know.

"Your protections, sir?" Hermione asked curiously.

"A few spells," Dumbledore replied off-handedly, "to keep him from harming himself."

That sounded comforting, Harry rolled his eyes, and wonder what he needed "protection" from this time.

"I also need to know when you first started noticing this behavior," Dumbledore continued smoothly, "it may give me some idea as to what Harry has become vulnerable to."

Harry snorted, he had never heard going over to the dark side described quite in that way.

"Since school started," Hermione replied, sounding worried, "and there's no telling when he started acting this way if he changed during summer."

Harry rolled his eyes, and prepared to leave.

"Perhaps the wards haven't been enough to keep Harry safe from the influence of Voldemort," Dumbledore said mournfully.

"You don't think that Harry would join him?" Hermione gasped in horror.

Dumbledore began speaking again, and Harry decided he'd definitely had enough and left.

He quickly returned to the Gryffindor tower, he knew that bed checks were still done periodically unless Ron or Hermione had reported that the three of them would be out doing something…or two of them…didn't have to be a golden trio event.

Harry lived like a baby or some sort of livestock, or something. It was really annoying, especially after years of autonomy…well, semi-autonomy. Harry wasn't so arrogant as to suggest that he could survive on his own.

Harry bypassed the portrait of the fat lady, you never could tell whose side these newer portraits were on, and instead took the passageway directly into the Gryffindor common room. He ended up near the base of the boy dormitory stairs, and after a quick glance into his messenger bag to make sure he hadn't lost his precious cargo; he headed off toward the stairs.

And then he heard her.

"Now all the students should be in bed except for Miss Granger, is that understood Mr. Cartwright and Miss Trowling," McGonagall asked.

"Yes, ma'am," the head boy and Miss Trowling, the Ravenclaw sixth year prefect replied together.

Harry didn't have time to spare clearly.

He quickly darted up the stairwell to the boy's dorms, and was surprised when he couldn't hear the footsteps of Mr. Head Boy. Normally whenever he cut it this close to bed inspections he could hear everything Mr. Head Boy was doing in the stark silence of the Gryffindor Tower when all the baby Gryff's were asleep in their beds.

Harry continued taking the stairs at his fast pace and before he could think, his shoe slid along the carpeting covering the stairs just right and he fell backwards, arms flying out to grab at something or regain his balance.

His hand grabbed at the railing of the stairway, and Harry felt something jerk and pop, painfully, in his shoulder. The shock was so much that Harry couldn't even scream, and then the air was pushed out of his lungs when he landed, hard, on the staircase. Stairs scraped down his back and then Harry hit a twist in the staircase and his leg got smashed up against a stair.

"Are you going to jump?"

Sal jerked his head up and turned to look at one of his three traveling companions, "Rowena Ravenclaw," he greeted tersely.

"So are you going to jump?" Rowena asked him.

"I might," Sal replied.

"I bet you won't," Rowena said, but her eyes and tone said this was a challenge of pride more than anything else.

Sal shook his head and looked down the steep cliff and replied, "You don't know me very well."

"I know you were taken in and abandoned by Morgan le Fay," Rowena told him, "I know you're Helga's apprentice, I know you managed to convince the reclusive Godic Gryffindor to join this amazing escapade of immense failure."

Sal scoffed and rolled his eyes replied, "So you really don't know anything at all."

"Prove it."

Sal jumped.

Harry woke up cradled in overly concerned magic, Harry groaned and shook his head, only to find out that hurt too much.

Harry whimpered and he felt the magic below him give a little more, oh how his leg and shoulder ached.

The magic around him throbbed lovingly and tightened around him, and then he realized what the magic was and opened his eyes. He was in the hospital wing; he recognized the softened mattress he was laying on.

He used his good arm to push himself up and he felt warm magic fold concernedly around him.

"I'm fine," Harry said soothingly, "I'll be just fine."

"Good to hear."

Harry jerked his head over to stare into the darkness of the room, immediately locking onto the dark figure of Dumbledore.

"It was quite a fall," Harry said congenially. "What all did I do? Break my leg, sprain my shoulder, and I guess must've hit my head, right?"

"You have a concussion, and you dislocated your shoulder," Dumbledore replied.

"I was close," Harry replied, and the he reached for his glasses and slid them onto his nose and looked back over to where Dumbledore sat. "So how quick was the emergency reaction team? I'm supposed to report my findings to the ministry and all, so they can post them in the Prophet."

"Harry," Dumbledore said sharply, "what were you doing out of bed?"

Harry rubbed his jaw with his good arm and cocked his head, replying, "Good question…"

"Harry," Dumbledore barked, leaving no room for jokes. "Where were you?"

"Okay," Harry replied solemnly, "I'll tell you where I really was, you aren't going to like it though, be warned. I was…in the girls' dorm. I snuck up to try on their lacy thongs and I was on my way back down when I heard McGonagall and the bed-checkers and I took off running and ended up falling down the stairs," Harry waited a second but Dumbledore didn't respond so he added a bit more onto his story, "…which sucks ass."

"Harry, I need you to tell me where you were for your own safety," Dumbledore's voice sounded more like he was interrogating for his own interests but Harry decided to cut the man a break.

"Okay, so what I was really doing was having it off with a pureblood elitist's daughter in the forbidden forest."

"What were you doing that you can't even trust me enough to tell me the truth," Dumbledore sighed. "I will never understand where I went wrong with you, all I know is that somewhere I did and…what I really need to know is where did you get this?"

Dumbledore held something up and Harry didn't even need light to tell exactly what object he was holding. Harry's blood ran cold, and he went into thinking mode.

"I'm going to have to send you away for a while, Harry," I don't know what made you steal the deed—"

"Steal?!" Harry demanded before he could stop himself, "Apparently, you haven't even taken the time to notice whose name is on the damn thing!"

"The deed belongs to the headmaster—"

"Well, I'm afraid that in these dark times, I don't trust the deed to the headmaster of the school," Harry replied, voice getting cold. "In these times I only trust the school to someone's whose intentions I trust, explicitly, and as we all know a person can only truly trust themselves."

"You can't possibly even understand what owning the deed would imply!"

"I have a much better idea of the responsibilities than you do, apparently," Harry replied, "besides that, Hogwarts knows whose hands she's safest in and in this case it's her creator."

Dumbledore stumbled to his feet and groped for something in his robes, Harry could tell immediately when he was on the end of the man's wand, "I hadn't believed Tom when he told me, I could—"

Harry rushed forward and pulled the wand from Dumbledore's hand, stunning him with a spell the man hadn't even heard of, probably. Harry fell hard on his still healing leg on the stone floor next to the unconscious man.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, old man," Harry told the prostrate man. Harry plucked the deed from Dumbledore's fingers and patted the floor next to him, asking, "Just a little hidey hole for now, love?"

The floor caved a little below his hand and Harry dropped the deed in, removing his hand, "don't let anyone in there but me, okay?"

The hole closed with a barely audible sound and Harry returned his attention to the man and told him, "Never let it be said that rushing headlong into messes is only a Gryffindor tendency."

Harry located Dumbledore's forehead and traced a few marks on it activating the spell easily. Then he turned his attention to getting back on the bed, now noticing the sharp pains running up and down his femur. He groaned and inched his way up to the bed and then the floor bumped him up and he rolled onto the bed, bumping his shoulder, leg, and head in the process.

"I fail at life," Harry muttered to himself and he turned his attention back to Dumbledore. He needed to wipe his spell from the wand's memory and then get the wand back to Dumbledore and then wake the man up.

It only took a few moments of thought before he placed a timed revival spell on Dumbledore and moved on to removing the spells he'd used from the wand, and he banished the wand back to the man's hand…it was the best he could do without his wand, and it certainly wouldn't be wise to locate it now.

Harry plopped down on his back and closed his eyes, evening his breathing.

Dumbledore woke moments later and then Harry heard robes rustling and then Dumbledore walked up to his bedside and said mournfully, "My poor boy, things never do go quite right for you, do they?"

Harry had to work to keep from smirking, if only the man knew.