Chapter Eight

Harry followed Professor Snape, wondering what he had done to get the headmaster's attention. Surely it wasn't because he was placed in Slytherin? Harry gulped and concentrated on keeping his mental shields steady. The headmaster might suddenly attack him after all.

A hiss from the corridor caught his attention. He stopped and turned his head to get a better look. Thunder sauntered towards him and mewed.

"Mr. Potter, we don't have all day. Move along now." Professor Snape commanded. His eyes fell on the kitten. "And if you simply must bring the…furball, do so before I change my mind."

Harry obeyed and picked Thunder up. They made their way towards a large stone gargoyle whose wings were half-open. It stared at them hungrily and the spear it carried shifted slightly. Harry opened his mouth to ask the professor a question but the man shook his head and pressed his index finger against his lips. "Licorice wand."

The gargoyle snarled and grudgingly leaped aside. The Potions Master ushered Harry inside.

"What was that?" Harry blurted once they were inside the Headmaster's office. He had never seen such a creature before, even in his studies. If the gargoyle had attacked them, Harry might be forced to reveal some of his skills as a SeeD. "And why weren't we allowed to speak?"

"That, Mr. Potter, is a stone gargoyle. They are often docile creatures who will not attack but, after a certain group of students decided to play a prank on the gargoyle the headmaster had last year, we had to hire a more…aggressive one. Simply put, the bothersome beast likes to attack any poor fool who happens to speak within a five foot radius around him. If you were actually listening to the headmaster's announcements, then perhaps you would know this already."

Well sorry for being preoccupied, sir. Harry thought grumpily but did not speak. The man didn't seem inclined to talk to him anymore so Harry chose to look around the office instead. The man watched him silently, making Harry feel conscious of his actions. He moved to touch the Sorting Hat which was sitting majestically on top of its stool.

(Hello, young one.)

(I didn't know you could talk to me like this.) Harry replied in surprise. He had almost dropped Thunder.

(A touch will do for communication but if I wish to look through your thoughts, you must put me on.)

(I see. Do you know why the headmaster called for me? I didn't do anything wrong.)

Harry felt a paroxysm of anger flow through him. (I'm afraid I do not know. Albus does not discuss his plans with me as other headmasters have done. It is because he does not trust me anymore.)

(You're angry at him aren't you?)

(Hogwarts was not what it used to be anymore; it was a lot more glorious then. Perhaps it is not his fault…but I still blame him for a lot of things, especially the treatment he had given Mr. Riddle way before he was the headmaster.) If hats could sigh, the Sorting Hat would have produced a weary one. (But that was the past, and I have no plans of having History repeat itself again. Here, take this key.)

Harry felt cold metal melt from the seams of the hat. His hand closed on it. (What is this for, sir?)

(Carry it around you always. You do not have to worry about losing it, as it will find you wherever you may be. It is my way of communicating with you like your Guardians.)

As if on queue, the two GFs spoke in chorus; their voices which echoed like bells inside Harry's head made the boy winced. (He is near. Prepare yourself, Harry.)

He stuffed the key in his pocket and went back to stand besides Professor Snape who was eyeing him curiously.

Professor Dumbledore appeared from the fireplace, dusting the ash off his robes as he walked towards them. "Welcome." The old man said and smiled, his eyes twinkling as usual. "Severus, I wish to speak to the boy alone. Would you kindly step out of my office for a moment? I assure you it won't take long."

The man gave a hesitant nod and left, leaving Harry all alone. "You called for me, sir?"

"Yes, Harry." The headmaster motioned for Harry to sit on one of the chairs but the boy remained standing. "I…simply wanted to know how your first day of school went."

"Pretty uneventful," Harry answered. "I haven't met any of the teachers yet except Professor Snape."

"Ah." The headmaster paused for a moment as if he had just realized something.

A mistake perhaps? Harry wondered. "Is that all you wish to talk to me about, sir?"

"No, dear child; I also wanted to know how you are coping with half your memories missing."

Harry shrugged. "I don't really mind not remembering, sir. The missing memories probably won't hinder me as much as you think it would. Besides, the Slytherins are very helpful."

"The Slytherins…" The headmaster didn't look like he was about to let Harry go. "Tell me, are you having problems in that House? Are they…troubling you?"

"Not at all, sir." Harry felt irritated by the old man's implications. Was he saying that they weren't treating him properly? "As I've said, they're very helpful."

"Surely not all of them are?"

"I haven't exactly gotten to know any of them fairly well," Harry spoke through gritted teeth.

The headmaster took out a silver coin from inside his many pockets and began fiddling with it. "From what I've heard, they can be quite sly. Dangerous too, if you're not careful."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He felt a surge of despair from within his gut as memories played through his mind's eye. He remembered briefly the look Draco had given him this morning; dog-eared pages from an old tome, the lines blurred and appeared clearly, speaking of old Slytherin wizards who had turned Dark; Professor Snape, glaring at him from the long table; Voldemort screaming in fury as the Killing Curse rebounded…

(Slytherins are evil manipulative creatures.) A voice echoed along the vast chamber of his mind. Faintly, he could hear others too in the distance but try as he might, he could not hear them. (Do not trust them.)

"Do not trust them," he murmured.

For a while, the voice continued to speak to him, cajoling him. As the voice talked, memories continued to flow, most of which he did not recognize at all. He squeezed something after quite a frightening memory and yelped. Pain shot through his shoulder and he screamed. The voices which were once dim grew louder in his mind trying to take over. Power flowed through his veins, clawing against his skin. He fell down to his knees, struggling to control his magic. Gasping for air, he saw the headmaster's astonished expression as he looked up before darkness swamped him.

Maverick grimaced and touched his arm, his fingertips shaking. He tried to focus on listening to Professor McGonagall but the pain was too much to bear; he could not ignore it so easily. Morag, who sat besides him, gave him a look of concern.

"Are you alright?" The boy asked quietly, afraid to be caught speaking to another student.

He nodded and opened his hand slowly, one finger at a time. He let go of his arm and placed both hands on his desk, gripping it tightly. Forcing his facial features to remain calm and stoic—he didn't want any attention directed at him, after all—he took deep measured breaths until the pain finally subsided. Harry…did something happen again?

(How did this happen?) A soft gentle sound echoed inside Harry's mind. (What caused him to be like this?)

The next voice was rougher and had a leathery feel to it. (I do not know just yet but I have my suspicions. That coin he took out just might be the tool he used to capture Harry's interest and initiate the spell but, if you wish to know the exact means in which he managed to trap Harry like that, then I'm afraid I do not have enough information to answer you.)

(I say we make Harry summon us and teach the old coot a lesson.) The next words came in a form of a growl and felt like heat far too warm for comfort. (Who cares about what method he used to hurt Harry?)

(There may be a reason as to why he did that, Ifrit.) It was the second voice again; it sounded touchy and not at all too happy with the suggestion. (He is the headmaster of the school. To stake his reputation like that, even in front of a student…it would either mean that he is planning something even I cannot fathom as of yet…or that he truly looks at Harry as a threat.)

(Or both.) The three creatures which inhabited Harry's mind turned to look at the newcomer. Harry waved his hand and grinned. (Talking about me behind my back, you guys?)

(We were simply discussing Albus's recent…actions.)

(Master Hat wanted to find out if Albus had a motive for using that spell on you.)

(Master Hat?) Harry looked amused. (I don't know the motive either but I have a feeling that it has something to do with controlling me. And possibly hating the Slytherins.)

(The old boy still hasn't let you go on that?) The Sorting Hat inquired. (I thought, perhaps, he knew of our friends' existence and wanted you to go against them.)

(He doesn't know, fortunately, or else we'd be toast.) Harry said, his eyes on the two Guardian Forces who stood near the hat.(Besides, the only images I saw were of the Slytherin's evil deeds, from something as simple as a prank to something as awful as…slaughtering thousands of Muggles in the blink of an eye.)

(I did refuse to resort you, Harry.) The Sorting Hat spoke. (He knew that the only other way for you to go to a different house was if you willingly asked for a resorting. Then and only then can I not refuse such a request.)

(So he wanted me to hate Slytherin enough to choose a different house instead? Ok, it does seem kind of logical. What I can't understand though is why my magic went out of control.)

(Perhaps I can explain that, Harry.) Quezacoatl said and moved to its full height. (Your magic probably reacted violently with the spell. Because of its…peculiar nature, it must have seen the spell the headmaster had cast as dangerous and tried to remove it from your system.)

(So my magic acts like an immune system fighting against harmful spells?)

(Yes, I suppose it does.)

(Why do I have this power anyway? And is it possible for me to be able to control this aspect of my magic?) Harry wondered. (It'd be very useful, especially if I am to fight a certain Dark Lord someday.)

(I do not understand this kind of magic yet.) The hat spoke slowly.(And I myself do not know the origin of your magic's ability. But from what I do know and understand, it can be done but only if your magic is strong enough in terms of quantity to fight the spell cast on you.)

(So, in theory, I can even stop the Killing curse?)

(You did it once, if that memory I saw was real.) The hat said. (I think you should guard it more carefully though. If the headmaster ever found out that you were the true Chosen one, the spell he tried to use on you would look like…well, like a walk in the park compared to the other more powerful spells that can be damaging to your mentality.)

(Ouch.)Harry winced and sighed. (Well, can you think of anything I could do to improve my Occlumency shields?)

(Only that you need a master of the Occlumency to teach you. Your knowledge alone will not suffice. He might be fooled the first time but…even the tricks you've thought of are not enough for someone as powerful as he.)

(Can you teach me? I mean, you must have some knowledge of it.) Harry sounded eager. He knew it was vital for his memories to stay hidden from the headmaster and needed something he could rely on once Professor Dumbledore decided to attack him with Legilimency.

(Sadly, I am not a master of the art as I am but a hat but I do know of one person who can teach you Occlumency.)

(Really? Who?)

(Professor Severus Snape.)

(That man? But I—but he hates me!)

(Are you sure of that, Harry?)

(Well, he did glare at me that first day.)

(There are…reasons why he did what he did but he is still a sensible man. He is also the Head of your House and you will have to trust him sooner or later.)

(I prefer the later part.) Harry said dourly. (But I'll do what you say and give the man a chance.)

(Very good, Harry.) The hat said approvingly. (Now I believe it is time for you to wake up.)

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I'm still recovering from all those projects I had to do (Yes, I'm pathetic that way.) and my mind just isn't working properly. Random question: how do the students know when the class is finished? Is there a bell that signals the end of a class? It's been so long since I've read the canon so I was just wondering.

As always, questions, comments, critiques and rotten tomatoes(am joking) are welcome.