As soon as the necklace came off, Harry's appearance changed. His neat black ponytail changed into a sickly white one, his remaining eye sunk back into its socket, his teeth and nails yellowed, his tan skin changed to pale, rotting flesh, and the scent of death immediately surrounded him.
He had debated long and hard on this course of action with Sirius and Mick. Harry hadn't wanted anything to do with the old man who'd left him with his abusive relatives, but Sirius had insisted that Dumbledore could be trusted. Yes, he'd made mistakes, but everybody did, Sirius pointed out. Dumbledore'd had no way of knowing that the Dursleys would be so horrible, and the blood wards had been Harry's only protection.
Harry, however, hadn't been swayed in the least until Mick pointed out that Dumbledore, as the most powerful and learned wizard alive, would be the most likely person to be able to cure Harry's "condition." Harry, who was by now aware that his body was decomposing, albeit slowly, knew that he had only a few years until he fell apart completely, and so agreed immediately.
Sighing, Harry opened the door and stepped in.
"Hello, Harry, my..." Dumbledore stopped as his eyes fell on the decaying boy in front of him. "Merlin."
"Merlin indeed," Harry said coldly. "I've been like this as long as I can remember, and it's been getting worse every year since my uncle, the one you left me with as a 'safehouse,' tried to murder me. Of course, I didn't realize it for three years, since the bastard locked me in a fucking trunk."
"Harry... I'm so sorry. I had no idea..." Dumbledore began, but Harry interrupted him.
"Whatever, old man. That's not why I'm here. I'm here because Sirius insisted that I come to Hogwarts to finish my education, and because a friend of mine convinced me that you may be able to save me. You see, I'm decomposing. We're not sure how long I have 'till my body fails completely, but it's not too long."
"I give you my word, I will do whatever I can to cure you, my boy. I promise. But I'm afraid I cannot allow you to attend Hogwarts in your current condition. It would interfere with the other students' learning procedures, and..."
"Don't worry about that. Sirius was able to fix that problem easily enough," Harry said, putting the neclace back on. Instantly, his appearance reverted to that of a normal(ish) human, and the smell of rotting flesh faded away.
"Ah. Very well. The next issue, then, is the matter of your weapons. I'm afraid..."
"That I will be keeping those," Harry interrupted. "During the day, I will only carry a knife and pistol, unless I feel that I am in greater danger than usual. My other weapons will remain securely in my footlocker, which is closed with a bloodlock. During nights, I intend to use them to clear out the Forbidden Forest of some of its darker creatures. I don't sleep, and, as far as we know, I can't be killed, so I may as well do some good at nights. If you disagree, I'll be perfectly happy to go to Durmstrang, which, as I understand it, has a much more lenient policy on the matter of weapons."
Harry didn't mention that spending the nights in the Forbidden Forest would be the only way to keep the castle from being overrun with Inferi, but he felt that Dumbledore didn't exactly need to know about the strange relation between himself and the undead monsters.
"Now, now. Let's be reasonable. Surely you don't need to go so far as going to Durmstrang. I'm sure we can come to some sort of compromise," Dumbledore said anxiously. He most definitely did not want this poor boy to be corrupted by the sort of things that went on at Durmstrang.
"No, I'm afraid not. Either I keep my weapons and use them like I said, or I go to Durmstrang. Which will it be?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. You may keep your weapons, and you may hunt in the forest at night. Is there anything else we need to discuss?"
"Yes. I will require permission to leave the school grounds every now and then. I have a certain business which I must keep up with. Lastly, I would like my father's cloak back. I understand it was in your possession when he died."
"That won't be a problem, so long as you alert me when you are leaving the grounds. As for the cloak, it has already been placed among your things. I felt it was time to return it to its rightful owner," said the Headmaster, much more cheerfully. "Now, let us go to the feast. The students will no doubt be complaining about the lack of food, so we should rectify that unfortunate situation posthaste."
With this, the old man stood up and led Harry out the door to his office.
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Harry stood at the back of the Great Hall, ignoring the stares he was recieving from the student body as Dumbledore stood up once more. The last first year had just been sorted, and some people, (especially a gangly, dirty looking redhead) were glaring at Harry as if it was his fault they hadn't eaten yet. Which, Harry reflected idly, it was.
"As many of you have noticed," Dumbledore said, "we have a new student among us to be sorted. Will our fifth year students please welcome Harry Potter. Harry, if you will step forward, we will sort you, and then we may begin our most excellent feast."
At the name "Potter," whispers began spreading through the Hall like plot holes in a J.K. Rowling story.
"Potter, did he say?"
"He's supposed to be dead!"
"What's that on his back?"
"What happened to him?"
Harry ignored the whispering as he strode forward to the tiny stool waiting next to Professor McGonagall, which he ignored in favor of standing. McGonagall lowered the Sorting Hat onto Harry's head, and it immediately shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"
There was a loud cheer from the leftmost table, and somebody released a set of firecrackers which repeatedly spelled "We Got Potter!"
Harry grimaced at the attention, but took off the Hat and gave it to Professor McGonagall. He then made his way to the Gryffindor table, where he sat down next to Ginny and a gangly redheaded boy.
"And now, before we begin our feast, I have one last announcement to make. In light of Lord Voldemort's return, Professor Moody has decided to resign his teaching position so as to rejoin the Auror Corps. In his place will be Lord Sirius Black, a former auror himself. Please give him a warm welome as our newest professor."
Harry coughed at the announcement that Sirius was going to be a professor- his dogfather had said nothing of the sort. Although, now that Harry thought of it, Sirius had been dropping hints about seeing each other more than Harry expected.
After the students clapped politely (or, in the case of the Gryffindors, exuberantly) for their new professor, Dumbledore sat back down and clapped his hands, causing piles upon piles of food to appear on the tables.
Harry sighed as the other students began to devour the feast before them. He so wished he could eat. Unfortunately, his digestive process didn't work, so the food would just sit in his stomach until he forced himself to vomit.
"Ar'n' 'ou 'ungry?" asked the redhead next to him, food spraying across the table as he spoke.
"I have... special dietary restrictions," Harry explained, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the boy's table manners.
"Ron, you're disgusting," Ginny said, then turned to Harry. "Please excuse my brother. He was dropped on his head as a child."
"I had a cousin like that when I was younger." Harry said, then his face darkened as he thought of the Dursleys. The first thing he'd done after meeting Mick had been to try and track down the Dursleys. The Potter family fortune had been enourmously helpful in that regard. Harry had been able to find the Dursleys' new home easily, and had, after purchasing a cursed knife which promised to keep its victim alive until their neck was severed, payed them a visit.
The house had been empty, though. Oh, not completely. Hell, there were dirty dishes on the table. And the photos had confirmed that this time he was at the Dursley's house. However, a quick search showed that the Dursleys had apparently packed up and left relatively recently. That was where the trail went cold. Within two weeks, Harry was looking again. But this time, it was as if the Dursleys had vanished. Discreet inquiries aimed at the neighbors had shown that wherever the Dursleys went, it was unplanned. That seemed to indicate that they'd somehow gotten wind of his escape, which meant that they'd be making themselves scarce. A discreet bribe and a rather large gun had gotten him a copy of the Dursleys bank records, which showed a large cash withdrawal from a bank in Australia. Harry hadn't been able to find anything more than that before Sirius tracked him down and convinced him to put his revenge on hold for a little while. Let the Dursleys live in fear for a few years while Harry trained up his skills. The goblins could track the Dursleys down eventually, and then Harry would be able to get his revenge.
"Harry? You okay there?" asked a voice.
Harry shook his head and got up to leave the Great Hall. It was going to be a long year.
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Well, there it is. The really short and totally unawaited third chapter. Seriously, does nobody care? Five reviews, people?