I know it's been a week but…Well, I was surprised how long this chapter took, too. Then I went and checked the word count and it's over three times my normal chapter length. I nearly fell out of my chair (which has never happened to me so it surprised me even more). So there's my excuse and I'm sure everyone agrees it's much better than my usual ones.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
::Mindspeech::
-Parseltongue-
Chapter Twenty: A Long Night
Entering the Great Hall for the Opening Feast was nothing like Harry's previous experiences doing so. For one thing, Harry's experiences consisted mostly of coming home to Hogwarts after a summer away and this time, he hadn't spent the entire summer away from it (whereas in Salazar's memories, he'd stayed at the castle even when the students didn't and school was mostly year-round). It was just weeks ago that he had been taking classes here, presumably even with the same lesson plans than most of the classes he would start taking the next day. Yet it still seemed like some great homecoming after a long time away (which it was, in a way).
Trapped in the flow of students pushing and shoving for seats, Harry somehow (and quite suddenly) found himself sandwiched between Ron and Hermione with Ginny sitting across form him, seemingly determined to make eye contact. Really, how had they managed that so easily? The former-Slytherin amused himself with the thought that maybe that was what Ron had been practicing all summer before putting it down to pure Gryffindor luck and stubbornness. If nothing else, he could picture Ron shoving some poor first year out of his seat so that they could all sit together.
Determined neither to meet Ginny's eyes nor to pay any attention to the two Gryffindors sitting on either side of him, Harry's eyes wondered to the staff table. There was of course Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sinistra, Hagrid, and so on...and then there was Moody, who Harry was not all that surprised to see (Dumbledore's choice of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, no doubt). He also wasn't surprised to see Remus sitting between a gruff Moody and irritable Snape (as another person loyal to Dumbledore, he would have been another choice as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, so Harry was slightly surprised to both Remus and Moody were there; either way, he wouldn't have traded seats for the man for anything short of Voldemort's immediate death and Dumbledore's expulsion from Hogwarts). He saw didn't see Trelawney but he didn't see Firenze either (not that he expected either to show up at a feast) so he wasn't sure about the whole staff (but really didn't care as he wasn't taking Divination this year).
His attention was drawn away from the teachers by a sudden hush as the Sorting Hat began to sing. He leaned back and closed his eyes, fingering his wand beneath the table. This part would be rather delicate and aiming through a crowd of students was hard enough without Ginny sitting across from him, watching his every move.
Almost a thousand years ago,
Our story starts and ends
With a group of bright young sorcerers;
A group of loyal friends
Ginny was still watching him; her attention hadn't wavered for an instant even when the Hat had started its song. This would be a problem.
These four together did much
Where others alone had failed
And all together raised a school
For which they were forever hailed.
Aiming as carefully as he could while keeping his wand under the table, he tried casting the spell. A couple seats down the table, Colin Creevey jumped slightly but there were no other results. Damn, he must have missed; it was a good thing that this particular spell didn't have any effects on humans other than momentary discomfort.
Together they agreed to split
The students; their fatal error,
For among the four one plotted
Until the school was filled with terror
Now more annoyed than ever at the biased words, Harry adjusted his aim and tried again. The normally invisible spell shimmered slightly with power from his anger as it flew across the hall. Luckily, nobody seemed to notice this or the small breeze as it passed.
This fear spread like poison
Among the houses four
Causing...ack...
Yes! Harry cheered mentally as he took hold of the new connection that the spell had created. Normally, even for someone adept at mindmagic (even a telepath), a mental connection with an item was out of the question, not to mention anything like possession. Thankfully, the Hat's main purpose was the use of such a connection so it was already enchanted to accept thoughts from anything nearby. All Harry had to do was establish the connection at a distance, hence the spell. The spell also allowed that he send over thoughts to control the item, rather than directly possessing it, which you had to leave your body to do (this type of possession, called 'puppet possession', was aptly named).
While he was informing the hat what to do (the hat's animated personality was completely displaced by the spell), the rest of the Hall was in chaos. After all, the Hat had never stopped in the middle of a song and it had been singing for nearly a thousand years. Dumbledore and McGonagall had gotten up and were approaching the stool that the hat stood on.
"I'm quite all right," the Hat (under Harry's control) said feebly, "No need to cause such a commotion on my part. I'm old, as I'm sure you know, Albus. Godric Gryffindor himself may have enchanted me but even the strongest cast spells fade over time if not properly taken care of."
"Let me take over your duties if you are unable to do so yourself," Dumbledore said in a concerned voice, "I will take a look at your spells once the feast is over."
"No need, no need," the Hat insisted, "I can last through one more feast. If you'll both kindly return to your seats, I can continue...Just give me a moment to remember what I was going to sing next." He lapsed into silence. "I can't seem to remember...That's fine, I'll just improvise. I have hundreds of years of experience of song making behind me. Everyone back in their seats? That's good. What have I already said? No matter, I'll start at the beginning." And the hat began to sing again:
Welcome to Hogwarts,
Both the old and new,
Where so many witches and wizards
Have before learned and grew,
To the new:
I am here to guide you each,
To one of the four houses,
Which, for you, has most potential to teach.
There are four houses,
Named for founders four,
There's Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw,
Slytherin, and Gryffindor!
Hufflepuff is for the loyal and the fair,
Sweet and forgiving, this Founder did care.
Harry glanced at Ginny at the 'forgiving' part but could judge no reaction from her. She did smile but he couldn't tell if it was at the obvious flattery or if she was genuinely pleased at the words.
Ravenclaw is for the learned and the clever,
Always searching for knowledge was this Founder's endeavor.
Slytherin is for the ambitious and sly,
Secretive but reliable, this founder aimed high.
Gryffindor is for the righteous and brave,
Never a coward, it was only his best that he gave.
Now all students listen well:
Even a Ravenclaw can dislike a book
Gryffindors aren't always fearless and daring,
A Hufflepuff may not to give their loyalties to you,
And Slytherins aren't always dishonest, deceiving
Your house does not dictate who you are,
And you alone can choose your friends,
All houses have their good and bad
And this is where my song ends
Harry could see Dumbledore watching the hat with narrow eyes but knew the Headmaster could hardly interrupt the song. What had caught the old wizard's attention was obvious; other than the fact that the new song was probably deviated wildly from the terms for the song Dumbledore had agreed on, the style of the poem was also completely different from the old ones. It wasn't like Harry or Draco had (in either of their lives) been any sort of expert on poetry and this song had been their best collaboration effort (created in the twenty minutes that Snape gave Draco to get ready before they had left for the school earlier today).
The Slytherin Founder didn't do much for the sorting itself. The enchantments on the hat took control and did most of his work for him, for which he was glad. After all, he couldn't really justify invading the students' privacy by looking into their thoughts and he also knew that any sorting that he might do would be (understandably) a little biased.
Soon the sorting was over and Harry broke his connection with the hat. The object visibly wilted; the old personality would never come back and, with Harry's disappearance from its 'mind', it was, as it had once been, merely an inanimate hat.
It would need a new personality as soon as possible, that much was certain. And another simple animation job would be too risky...The beginnings of a plan was forming in some distant corner of Harry's mind. But it was too soon...He'd need a couple days to set it up and there was no way he'd be able to have it done tonight. Harry just had to trust that the magic from his spell would make sure that any alternate personality that Dumbledore tried to force into the hat wouldn't stick (and then of course that led to the question of whether the hat that Harry knew was really the same personality as the one from Salazar's time). For now, he put the thought out of his head.
"Now that our newest students have tables to sit at, let us all enjoy this wonderful feast," Dumbledore said. Food appeared on the tables and everyone started loading their plates with food enthusiastically.
Forcing himself to pay attention to what was happening around him, Harry was unsurprised to find that not much had changed. Ron had resumed his prattling as if there had been no interruption (despite the large quantities of food he was now shoveling into his mouth), happily oblivious to the lack of attention he was getting from the boy-who-lived, and Hermione was listening him, occasionally adding some fact (but gave herself time to swallow her food beforehand, unlike Ron). Ginny was still trying to catch his eye so he spent some time admiring the ceiling before glancing across the hall.
Draco was looking particularly uncomfortable with some of the murderous glances that some of the Slytherins, mostly children of Death Eaters, were giving him. Harry sent him a somewhat insincere sympathetic look (it was more of a cross between an amused look and a 'deal with it' look), and Draco scowled at him.
"Come sit over here," Harry mouthed. He almost tried to patting the bench next to him in a welcoming way, but that would have put his hand in either Ron's or Hermione's law…and, anyway, it wasn't like Draco would have been able to see it. Draco shook his head stubbornly.
"You come over here," Draco mouthed back. That had been exactly what Harry had been waiting for.
"I'm sorry, Ron, but I have to go," Harry said. He stood up, walked across the hall, and, ignoring the stares, sat down at the Slytherin table next to Draco. "I was wondering when you were going to ask," he told the Gryffindor-Slytherin cheerfully; serving himself some food. Draco mouth fell open in shock and he stared at Harry.
"You-You manipulative Slytherin!" Draco exclaimed. Several people around the Hall murmured indignantly at their savior being called a Slytherin.
Harry grinned at him,
"Not that much. You're just a predictable Gryffindor." This time, there were fewer murmurs, but several people choked on whatever they were eating.
"I'm not predictable!" Draco and Harry said at exactly the same time, in exactly the same, indignant tone of voice.
Harry raised an eyebrow, "You were saying?" Draco glared at him, but, before he could reply, someone interrupted him.
"Harry, what are you doing?!?" Ron had apparently gotten over his shock, and was marching across the hall towards them.
"Ron, I thought that you, of all people would know what I'm doing," Harry said, in a slow, patronizing voice, usually reserved for small children. At Ron's confused look, he elaborated, "I'm eating, Ron; humans usually do it about three times a day. It usually consists of putting food in your mouth, chewing, and swallowing. At the Gryffindor table, however, males tend to shove it in their mouths as fast as they can, as if they haven't eaten in months. No offense." He glanced sideways at Draco. Ron didn't seem to know what to say to that. He spluttered for a few minutes, tuning steadily redder.
"Is the whole house like that?" Draco asked, turning to Harry with a pleading look.
"I'm afraid so, 'Ric," Harry said, looking at him sadly. Draco made a pained noise and put his head on the table. "Oh come on, don't be like that! They're really not all bad! Neville's a pretty good Gryffindor, right?" Across the hall, Neville turned bright pink.
"Longbottom?" Draco asked apathetically, lifting his head a fraction off the table.
"Come on!" Harry insisted, poking Draco in the ribs, "No wallowing in self-pity. It's the first day back to school; you're supposed to be happy! Okay," he allowed after a short pause, "that did sound a little strange. Still. And I mean, most of 'em are still okay. Remember the twins? Fred and George Weasley? They were great Gryffies!"
"Weasley?" Draco asked, more than a bit incredulously this time.
"Hey, most of them are okay too. Come on, it's not as bad as you think."
"I don't know what to do, Sal. My whole life is ruined," Draco whimpered pathetically.
"If it makes you feel better, the hat didn't have much of a choice but to put him in Gryffindor. He wouldn't have lasted two seconds in Slytherin or Ravenclaw, and can you imagine him being in Hufflepuff? Besides, he really, really wanted to go into Gryffindor, and the hat couldn't go against that," Harry said, comfortingly, "He hates studying, can't stand Slytherin, has very little loyalty, and has less cunning than a Flobberworm."
"But why Gryffindor?" Draco moaned.
"You know, I think that Hufflepuff turned out the best," Harry said, thoughtfully, not answering him. He scanned the Hufflepuff table absently but stopped when he saw Zachariah Smith,
"…Or not. Slytherin wouldn't be too bad if it wasn't for all the Dark Lord stuff."
"But what are you doing with Malfoy?!" Ron shouted, having finally regained his voice.
Harry gave him a confused look, and added a tinge of annoyance,
"I'm eating, Ron, I thought we covered that."
"Why are you sitting next to Malfoy?" Ron spat, his face bright red. Harry looked relieved, as if he had just figured out the problem.
"Because he invited me," Harry said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, "You know, you look alarmingly like Uncle Vernon when your face turns that shade of purple."
"Because he invited you?!? Harry, you could be eating poison!" Ron shouted.
"I'm not eating poison, Ron, I'd be dead if I was," Harry said calmly, not adding the fact that he would be able to tell if there was poison in his food, as he was a skilled potion master.
"Because it could be one of those slow acting poisons!" Ron shouted, his face moving on to purple.
"If he wanted to kill me, I'd be dead by now," Harry said, "And if it was a slow acting poison, I'd be in pain. There really is no point killing your enemy with slow acting poison if they're not in pain as they die. Unless of course, he wanted to take the blame off of himself, in which case I could be eating poison…" He noticed that everyone was staring at him (not that they hadn't been already). Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "It's pretty much all common sense, if you think about it." Harry said defensively, "And anyways...If I was eating poison, I'd like to be able to enjoy my final moments in peace and quiet so...If you'd please, you know, get out of my face." He made a shooing motion at Ron.
"Fine!" Ron shouted, "If you want to get yourself killed, I'm not going to stop you!" He turned and stomped back to the Gryffindor table.
"Finally," Harry said, relived, "We can get some peace and quiet now."
"Harry, why are you seated at the Slytherin table?" Someone asked from behind them. Harry whirled around, coming face to face with the Headmaster.
Harry groaned, "'Ric, don't ever let me say that again."
"You should have known better than to say something like that in the first place," Draco said, sighing. Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry, Headmaster, did you want something?" Harry asked in what he knewwas an unfailingly polite voice, albeit an annoyingly unfailingly polite voice
"Why are you seated at the Slytherin table, Harry?" Dumbledore repeated.
"Is there a problem with the Slytherin table?" Harry asked.
"Yes Harry. You see, you're supposed to sit at your house's table during meals," Dumbledore said.
"Oh...I didn't know that," Harry said pretending to be surprised, "After all, this policy has never been enforced before...I haven't even heard of it and I did read Hogwarts a History this summer. There was one rule a little like that but all that it said was that you had to be invited by a member of the other house to sit at their table during feasts and such but I was invited. Are you sure that there was such a rule?" He tried to put as much concern in the last question as he could. After all, it wasn't as if he could really call his Headmaster senile to his face...But he could imply it. He could almost see most of the Slytherins and a handful of other students sitting back with a bag of popcorn, ready to see what this new power could do, while the rest of the Hall watched with bated breath.
"Of course, it's a newer rule so it might not be in such an old book," Dumbledore lied, rather unconvincingly in Harry's eyes, though most of the students seemed to accept this as an answer. Some, however, didn't; Harry could hear suspicious coughs and whispers around the Great Hall. It made Harry feel sick how his once-almost-mentor could act so much like the incompetent Minister of Magic. "As to why it's never been enforced...There doesn't seem to be much use in promoting inter-house division so this rule is only ever really enforced during major feasts."
"But that doesn't make any..." Harry started to argue but Dumbledore cut him off.
"Now, Harry, let's not argue about such little matters," Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling full force, "Why don't you return to your seat at the Gryffindor table. I'm afraid we're holding up the feast." He attempted a kindly chuckle. Harry scowled; if the people wanted to eat, they could go ahead and eat. Harry wasn't stopping anyone and,anyway they were the ones listening in on his and Draco's conversation.
"But..."
"Harry," Dumbledore cut in again, "Please. Let's not..."
Annoyed that Dumbledore wouldn't let him speak his mind, Harry interrupted him,
"Professor," and there was something so cold in his voice that Dumbledore seemed to flinch away slightly, "Please do let me speak my mind. As it is, your pathetic attempts to enforce outdated traditions that only decrease the very inter-house cooperation that you claim to be trying to promote seem not only counter-productive but also extremely foolish. And I cannot remember ever giving you permission to use my first name when speaking to me."
At this, there was a flurry of movement and sound as all around the Hall as people turned to their friends to whisper about this new development. The general opinion of the far side of the Hall seemed to be "Who does he think he is?" from what Harry could hear of the tone. Hearing exact words was impossible from the distance and with all the other noise. From nearby, though, most of the students seemed to be approving. Words were easier to pick out, as most of this was coming from the Slytherin table. Most of it was random words, though he did hear an awed "He sounds just like Snape" and "'Bout time someone but the old man in his place."
Dumbledore, too, seemed dumbstruck by the sudden change,
"No matter what titles or fame you may hold, it's unforgivable for you to speak to your Headmaster in such a way. Fifty points from Gryffindor and a week of detention. You will meet me in my office after the feast to discuss the details." His voice and face were hard and even a little cold but the words behind them were still rather soft.
"On the contrary, Professor, I wasn't the one who requested to be given special privileges. In fact if I were you, I would have given myself a months worth of detention at least and taken a hundred points from Gryffindor. Or do you still have hopes that Gryffindor will once again cling to the House Cup?"
"Fifty more points from Gryffindor and another week of detention. If you do not return to your House table at once, I will start speaking of suspension." Finally Dumbledore was speaking with real conviction and anger behind his words.
"Of course, Professor," Harry stood up and gave him a mocking bow, "I suppose I'll see you later, then, Draco."
"Bye," Draco said somewhat mournfully, once again fully surrounded by hostile Slytherins. Now, however, they seemed more interested than hostile. There was, after all, a new powerhouse to keep in mind and none of the Slytherins wanted to turn him against them by upsetting his only known ally (at least so early in the school year). First they would test his power and see if it was just a bluff and then…
Harry, however, found upon returning to the Gryffindor table that he had traded positions with Draco. Shrugging it off and acting unconcerned, he chose a new seat with somewhat fewer hostile looks. He was sure that he wouldn't find bad company between Neville and the group of Gryffindor-sorted first years that he (Evan) had met on the train. The bad part of it was that he was (once again) sitting across from Ginny. She must have moved during the commotion and been able to accurately predict where he would end up. Which, he mused, was more than a bit scary.
"So..." Harry said, breaking the awkward silence, "Anyone want to pass the mashed potatoes?"
The feast after that was…awkward. Conversation with the first years next to him was cheerful enough but he didn't have the same connection with them as he had had as Evan Harrison and he regretted that. Neville didn't seem to know what to think of him (after all, Harry had praised Neville in front of the whole school…But he had also criticized the rest of his house) and Ginny was still trying to catch his eye, looking increasingly annoyed as he ignored her.
Once everyone had stopped eating and settled down, the remainder of the food vanished and Dumbledore stood up to give his speech. Harry prepared himself to get annoyed at the Headmaster; he was sure that it was just one of those speeches.
"Now that your hunger is satisfied, let me satisfy your inquisitive minds. As many of our older students have now realized, we have two new wizards to introduce to our staff, or shall I say two old teachers to welcome back! The Professor Moody of two years ago was, as I'm sure many of you are already aware, an imposter. However, I assure you that this one is the real thing and he apologizes most sincerely for any grief his imposter may have caused." Harry somehow doubted that particular statement. Hogwarts was rather unwelcoming to this teacher; there was even less clapping now than there had been for the imposter (that is to say only Dumbledore clapped an the rest of the school stared).
As with the imposter, Moody seemed to care little about this and drank something from his hip flask. Apparently the imposter's constant drinking wasn't something created from necessity but merely convenience. Actually, the younger Crouch seemed to have done a good job with his research; the resemblance between the movements of the real Moody and Harry's memories of the imposter was uncanny.
"Professor Lupin previously decided to retire because of the commotion that came from parents objecting to a werewolf teacher. However, upon my insistence, he agreed to take up his old post and, as open minded students, I trust that you'll make an educated decision on the danger that he holds to the school. I, myself, assure you all that he is perfectly harmless except for the very night of the full moon. He has, for the past several years, been taking a potion that ensures that he remains harmless, even in wolf-form. However, he is willing to leave the school every full moon for the sake of the peace of mind of all students and their parents." There was a little more clapping for this teacher, since most of the people that he had taught before had liked him. The younger students seemed sort of hesitant but a few applauded politely.
"Professor Lupin and Professor Moody will be both be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. The younger students will mostly be taught by Professor Lupin and Professor Moody will be teaching the majority of the older students and will be taking over Professor Lupin's classes on the full moon. I'm sure they'll clarify any questions you have on the matter during class time. We are all lucky to have two very experienced wizards with up and I trust that you'll treat them kindly.
"Also, Professor Snape, while continuing as this school's Potions teacher, will be unable to act as Slytherin Head of House." There was instant chaos in the Great Hall. Many at the Slytherin table stood up or shouted out in outrage while the more rowdy at other tables cheered at their hated teacher's misfortune. Within a few seconds they were silenced by the people around them and glares from the Slytherin table. Harry found himself memorizing their faces for pranking targets and forced himself to stop. After all, Snape wasn't Harry's friend. And, anyways, he could see several Slytherins doing the same. "This is because of personal reasons and is entirely his own choice."
"Yeah, right," Harry spat under his breath. Oops, had that been out loud? Ginny was looking at him again.
"Professor Moody will be taking over these responsibilities until either Professor Snape is able to resume his position or a Head of Slytherin is formally decided," Dumbledore continued, oblivious of his interruption. There was more outrage from the Slytherins but Dumbledore continued over them, "As there are some concerns on student safety regards to a recent increase of attacks in the magical world, Hogwarts has been looking to hire some security. However, the minister's refusal to officially recognize any threat has left us unable to do so. We hope to introduce ministry aurors as guards later in the year but until then, Hogwarts is still well-protected by her wards and the teachers and prefects will regularly patrol the corridors to ensure that nothing happens. There is no need for any alarm.
"Finally, all students please remember that the Forbidden Forest is called that for a reason and no students are allowed near it. The ever-growing list of banned objects is still posted on Mr. Filch's office door and now that I have said all that needs to be said, let me wish you all a pleasant year. Off to bed now. Mr. Potter, please meet me in my office shortly." Harry rolled his eyes (was it really necessary for Dumbledore to announce it to the entire school?) and took his time in getting up.
Must think of ways to kill…No…Must think of ways to annoy the old man…to death…NO…No dead bodies…Must think of ways to annoy the old man…to…insanity? Isn't he already insane? Well…Must think of ways to annoy the old man to really bad insanity…Or something…
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Harry strolled down the corridor casually, acting more like he was walking to the Great Hall to eat than walking to the Headmaster's office to discuss punishment. He knew that Dumbledore was probably watching him and it would probably make him mad but, hey, wasn't that the point?
Draco had met him at the Gryffindor table as Harry was trying to figure out whether or not to 'forget' to go to the Headmaster's office, despite the Headmaster's announcement. Harry had agreed to meet the other boy in a little over half an hour and had also set a location no meet at. In the end, he also ended up deciding to meet the Headmaster, just because it would be more troublesome if the Dumbledore (who Harry thought had more free time than he ought to have) came looking for him.
Reaching the Headmaster's office, he paused. Harry didn't know the current password and, though he was pretty sure he could open the door without it, he also didn't want to show Dumbledore his hand so early. Besides, it would be a little more than a waste of effort.
After deciding this, Harry was left standing outside for a good ten minutes and, right when he was ready to walk off, the stone gargoyle jumped aside to allow entry. Scowling at it, he gave it a surreptitious kick as he walked past. However much he might have wanted to he could not, of course, do the same to the Headmaster, even if it was Dumbledore that Harry was really mad at.
"Harry!" Dumbledore welcomed his student but stopped at Harry's cold glare, "Excuse me, I mean Mr. Potter," he now adopted a rather pitiful voice, "Why must you continue this facade? This isn't you, Ha…Mr. Potter."
"I came here, Headmaster, to discuss my detention. Nothing more," Harry said in a tone that would have had any of the other Founders looking around for cover to dive for.
Dumbledore lapsed into silence as if giving a profound matter very deep thought. Harry looked around and saw the Sorting Hat, sitting on the shelf as if nothing was wrong. The Headmaster did, after all, have a full year to figure out how to reanimate the thing. Still, Harry couldn't count on Dumbledore's procrastination. He'd set his plan into motion as soon as possible.
"It seems to me," Dumbledore said slowly, "That you are being overly difficult. Still, there is no need to punish you harshly when we have so little time on our hands. You will be spending your detentions for the next two weeks practicing Occlumency with Professor Snape, the same time and place as your previous lessons. I trust that your summer has been a productive one," Harry was not guilty to know that it hadn't been (but then again, he had remembered a lot of Occlumency so it had been productive after all), "and if, when I test you at the end of the two weeks, you can passably block any intrusion, your lessons will be over. If not, you will continue under the pretense of 'remedial Potions'. You are dismissed. Sleep well."
Harry stood up and left without saying a word. He wasn't sure if he was glad or not about this new development. It was likely that he would have been forced to take the Occlumency lessons either way but he still didn't want to be tutored in something he already knew, especially not something as intrusive as Occlumency and especially not by Snape.
He mused his way back to the Gryffindor dormitories, which he found unusually chaotic. It was, after all, the night of the feast, and usually everyone would be asleep by now. Ron and the other Gryffindor sixth years were waiting up for him, the Weasley puffed up with righteous anger.
"What intentions do you have towards my sister?" Ron demanded the second Harry stepped through the door of their room.
"Pardon?" Harry asked before making the connection. Ron's sister was Ginny and Ginny was Helga so that meant…
"You just missed her," and here Seamus Finnigan produced something alarmingly like a leer, "She was waiting up for you."
"Here?" Harry asked in his best 'bored and uncaring' voice. Internally, he was annoyed; he was in a hurry and he really didn't want to deal with this right now. He had either Ginny's lack of tact or revenge to blame and Harry was sure that it was the latter. After all, none of the founders were stupid and Helga, though a peacemaker, had a fierce temper when annoyed or insulted and her reincarnation didn't lack a temper either. So what if he had been avoiding her all evening? That was no reason to set the Gryffindors on him.
Harry turned his back to the Gryffindors under the pretense of rummaging through the trunk for bedclothes. In reality, he cast a mild sleep charm over the room to make the other occupants feel drowsy.
"I really don't know what she was doing here," Harry said, his back still turned, "I haven't talked to her all summer and I barely said a word to her all day. You were there, so you should know that. Maybe she thought I was avoiding her or something. I really don't care. It's late and I'm tired." Before he even had to pretend to change into his bedclothes, the other four Gryffindors were in bed and asleep.
Walking over to his bed, he took a good look at the charm that he had noticed earlier. Carefully checking to see that there were no spells around the charm that would alert the caster when the charm was set off, he gently touched the charm with his magic. The charm unfurled and the words 'we need to talk' became visible in glowing yellow on Harry's sheets. The 'talk' was bolded and underlined and Harry eyed it apprehensively before making the words vanish with a wave of his hand.
Harry did, after all, have things to do. He would talk to the Hufflepuff Founder later.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Dim light from flickering torches illuminated a stooped figure moving slowly down the corridor. Uneven footsteps echoed softly and then loudly and then suddenly stopped as the man reached his destination. Eyes glanced around furtively before the man entered the dark room. Again, he glanced around quickly and then, seemingly satisfied, he pulled his wand out and...
"Good evening, Professor," a quiet voice came from within the darkness. The effect was instantaneous. The man gave a violent start and without pausing for an instant, sent a beam of bright silver light towards the voice and, in almost the same gesture, lit the fireplace. Alastor Moody was now visible in the doorway but the chair by the fire, the place the voice had come from, was now empty. The ex-Auror tensed; he was sure that not even a second had passed between the greeting and his spell, yet the spell (who's whole purpose was to bind someone to a place, Moody had been mindful of Dumbledore's requests of only non-lethal spells when he had cast it) seemed to have missed it's target.
A second later, Harry Potter's head poked out from behind the chair,
"Scaaaary. I suppose those are the reflexes of a trained Auror."
Moody's eyes narrowed and he didn't relax. This person in front of him might look like Potter, but there was no way that the Harry Potter that he knew could have gone from sitting on the chair to behind it in no time flat. And the person had definitely been sitting on the couch instead of merely waiting behind it; his eye had caught a glimpse of the person before the magic in the spell had eclipsed the person's aura.
"You're not Potter."
"Yes I am," the other person said in a voice that sounded half offended and half amused.
Moody watched the other with narrowed eyes before barking out a question,
"Where did I last see you?"
"That's hardly a difficult question. Well, the last time we talked was at the end of my fifth year, when the Dursleys picked my up from the platform, but I'm sure dozens of people saw both of us. The last time you saw me was our last day in Diagon Alley, right before we left back to Snape's place."
"What did I show you during the party that celebrated the new Gryffindor prefects?"
"An old photo of the last generation of the Order of the Crispy Chick…I mean, the Order of the Phoenix that included my parents and a bunch of other dead people."
"Where did you learn to hide your aura?" Try as he might, Moody still couldn't read it which was supposed to be impossible with his magical eye. The only time that he had seen it was that flash in the dark and the little of which he had seen had looked somehow different from when he had last seen the boy…When he had been guarding the Dursleys' house. How could a person's, even a teenage wizard's, aura change so drastically in so little time? Auras naturally changed over time as a person's magic shifted and grew affinities but the process generally took years, only a little faster for someone going through magical puberty. The only explanation was that this person in front of him wasn't Potter but that also seemed impossible.
"That's a secret," Harry said airily. Moody stared at him for a minute before giving up on having his question answered.
"Don't ever come into my room uninvited; I could have sent you to the hospital wing by accident. You're lucky Dumbledore warned me over and over not to use any really nasty spells, I thought…Well, I didn't expect anyone in my room."
Harry laughed,
"Not even Slytherins move that fast; they're a house, they take some time to organize. I don't think you'll see the first of 'em 'till midnight. Which brings me to the reason that I'm here. I don't think you need me to tell you this but right now, most of Slytherin either hates you or extremely distrusts you. You need help."
"Who could help? If I tried to control the Slytherins, they'd just become more uncontrollable and anyone that interfered would be automatically considered on my side. And what reason would a Gryffindor have to care about the politics of Slytherin?"
"More reasons than you think. Were you even a Slytherin? No, don't answer that. It doesn't matter; what matters is that you're an authority figure chosen by Dumbledore. Admit it; the Slytherins would eat you alive. You need my help."
"Your help? Potter, you're a Gryffindor! What makes you think that you can help the situation at all?!"
"Not much by myself. But I know how Slytherin works a lot better than you do. If nothing else, I can give you enough advice that the Slytherins won't start plotting ways to kill you without taking the blame."
"Convince me."
"First of all, you have to make it clear that, thought you are here under Dumbledore's orders, you have absolutely no intentions of reporting anything you learn to him. Make this clear, no matter what it takes. And if you do have any intentions to tell Dumbledore anything," Harry's voice made it absolutely clear that yes, this was a threat, "You'd better remedy that right away. I'm here to help prevent your murder only because I think that you're passably intelligent."
Moody snorted,
"I'm not an idiot, boy; Dumbledore won't hear anything from me."
"Don't act on anything that you hear, either. If someone comes to you because they need to talk, listen to them. The trick is not to understand the choices they make instead of getting angry (even if you here that the person in front of you has just accepted the Dark Mark). In fact, if you can, make it known that, unofficially, Snape is still the Head of Slytherin. It helps that you didn't take over the rooms traditionally belonging to the Slytherin Head (but then I don't think there would be any way for me to help if you had)."
Pausing in his speech, Harry glanced at his watch and frowned,
"Well, that's it for tonight," he stood up and headed for the door, "That should last you until I can see you tomorrow. Oh, and I'll try to make Slytherin understand your position at least a little. I do at least have some influence in Slytherin and if I don't, I will soon. Goodnight Professor."
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"What took you so long?"
"Had to talk to Dumbledore, get back to the Gryffindor Tower, make sure that people noticed me come back and didn't notice me leave, dodge Ginny, and then take care of some business," Harry complained, sitting down on top of a desk, "Half an hour wasn't enough." They were in one of Hogwarts many deserted classrooms; this one had, very many years ago, been the very room Rowena Ravenclaw had taught Transfiguration in.
"Business…Moody?" Draco guessed, "But why Ginny?"
Harry glanced at his friend in surprise,
"You didn't notice? She's Helga. Who, apparently wants to talk."
"Of course she does! She hasn't seen you in a good…Um…Long time. Come to think of it, I don't even know how old she was when she died…It was after me so…"
"It doesn't matter," Harry said impatiently, "I'm not about to talk about things like that in the middle of the Gryffindor common room!"
"Then you should have taken her here," Draco rolled his eyes, "It sounds to me like you're just avoiding her."
There was a tense silence.
Draco gave in first and changed the subject,
"Who's Rowena, then?"
"Luna Lovegood but I don't think she remembers yet. Her birthday's not until fall, so…"
"Not fair, she's the only one of us who got sorted into her own house!"
"Well, yeah, but…In Ravenclaw, Luna's kind of an outcast. So I think her situation is sort of worse than ours. Well, most Slytherins hate Harry Potter and most Gryffindors hate Draco Malfoy so maybe not. Helga's situation definitely turned out the best."
"I suppose this just shows that none of us are made up of only the specific traits we chose for our houses. Does that make us hypocrites?" Draco asked.
"Not really…I mean, I was even told I would do well in Slytherin but I asked not to be put there. And you already knew you wanted to be a Slytherin before you put on the hat, right? Ginny also had similar pressure from her family to get into Gryffindor. Anyways," Harry smirked, "I bet if we wrote 'Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were hypocrites' somewhere in the Great Hall, people would get really mad."
"Ooh, really? Let's do that then," Draco was bouncing in his chair.
Harry glanced at his watch,
"It is kind of late, so let's not stay up all night pranking, okay? We have to wake up early tomorrow for classes."
"Um…"
Harry sighed and prepared himself for impending doom or, at least, an impending headache. He recognized that voice for all the trouble it had gotten them into in the past. Draco was, no doubt, about to suggest something stupid and guilt Harry into joining his crazy scheme. Or something like that.
"Yes?"
"Um, well…Did you happen to notice that Professor Snape was looking kind of…Unwell during dinner today?"
"Actually, I was very determined to not look at him at all, so no," Harry answered truthfully, "What do you mean by unwell?"
"Um…Pale? Showing signs of being in extreme pain?"
"And Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and all the other teachers didn't notice or didn't do anything?" Despite any recent resentment of the man, the tiniest bit of concern was worming its way into Harry's stomach.
"Madam Pomfrey kept sending him worried glances but she was at the other end of the table. I saw her talk to him at the end of the feast but I don't think he was listening to whatever she said. Dumbledore was ignoring it and I don't think anyone else noticed."
"And you want to…what, visit him? What do you think that we could do to help?"
"I don't know!" Draco half-shouted, frustrated, "But between the two of us, we know more magic than most of the school, right? There must be something we can do!"
Harry sighed again and stood up,
"He'll be staying in my old rooms, then?"
Draco blinked and thought for a second,
"Yeah." Reconciling their memories of the 'old' castle with the 'new' one was slightly strange what with overlaps and the small changes that the castle went through over time. Suddenly a deserted classroom that Draco had passed every day on his way to various classes had some deep significance to him; it was rather unnerving. Or, in this case, his mentor and Head of House's room where all his fellow Slytherins had for years been going to for advice turned out to have once been his best friend's room which he had regularly pranked.
Putting his hand on the stone wall, Harry opened a door between the wall of Rowena's old classroom and the corridor outside of the rooms traditionally belonging to the Slytherin Head of House. Even though it should have been at least a ten minute walk as the crow flies (or, more appropriately "as the ghost glides" or something similar), the manipulation of space was simple using a combination of the Parseltongue passwords Salazar had put up around the school and Hogwarts' own willingness to help her Founder; either alone could probably have accomplished the task.
"It's not fair," Draco whined, "You have all these cool Parseltongue passwords to get everywhere and I can't speak Parseltongue."
Harry rolled his eyes,
"You could probably do it without the Parseltongue, if you wanted to. I mean, you're still a Founder."
Harry knocked but only gave their Potion's Professor a couple second's courtesy before opening the door via a Parseltongue password. He seriously doubted the man was in the habit of answering his door, anyways.
Snape, as it turned out, was in no condition to open the door. Harry took one look at the former spy clutching his arm and summed up his thoughts into one word:
"Idiot."
He was across the room in an instant and, before Snape had time to react, pulled his cloak-sleeve roughly up so that it uncovered his Dark Mark. It wasn't a pretty sight; the area around the mark was red and raw, even blistering, and the mark itself looked as if it had been recently branded (the Muggle way).
"I'll need," He addressed the air behind him, "Snake venom. The stronger the better, but anything magical will do. I prefer basilisk or runespoor myself but I might have a recent affinity for Ophidia Argenteus so if he has that, that'll work as well. Also a 'light' component with strong healing powers…Phoenix tears will probably be best (he might even have some from Fawkes) or Anima Water, if they even use that any more (I sure haven't seen it in any texts)."
"Got it," Draco's head popped through the doorway and then vanished quickly (hall outside the room)? "Um...Sal? His ingredients are almost as messy as yours...Except half of them aren't written in Parseltongue. And I can only recognize phoenix tears by sight."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get them then; I'll probably need more than two if this is as bad as it looks," Harry said, sighing. "And you," he suddenly addressed Snape, "Don't so much as move from that spot until I get back. 'Ric, you make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. You should have experience dealing with reckless Gryffindors." He pushed his professor into a chair and walked away. Draco winced at his friend's noticeable anger as Harry brushed past him on his way.
"Why should..." Snape started but was cut off by Draco, who had made his way over to the chair that Harry had forced Snape into, seeming almost prepared to physically restrain his Head of House if necessary.
"Don't even. If he's gets any madder...Well, let's just not make him madder, okay?"
Harry walked back into the room with his arms full of various potions ingredients, half of which Snape knew were extremely rare and the other half so obscure that he didn't even recognize apart from having seen them in the furthest corners of various shelves. He opened his mouth, half to protest and half to ask what Potter thought he was doing with so many random ingredients but Harry interrupted him.
"I don't know what you're talking about, 'Ric," Harry said with what the other two could tell was obviously fake cheer, as he gathered a couple random instruments from around Snape's work area, "Mine was an organized mess, his is just a mess!" He paused for a minute to check over what he had gathered before pulling a silver dagger out of his sleeve and slapping it down on the table next to a bottle of something that was a shade of green that, in Draco's opinion, would make you ill just by looking at it.
"And yet you found everything right away," Draco said, rolling his eyes.
"Because I can recognize all the ingredients by sight, idiot," Harry had somehow gotten a small table when the others weren't watching and was busy mixing ingredients together in two separate bowls. There were no cauldrons in the room but Harry didn't need any (this wasn't technically a potion just a sort of...mixture of magical substances for the best and most balanced result without a brewing process). Pulling a dead snake out of a dusty bottle, he wrinkled his nose and commented on the age before grinding it to powder (rather viciously, Draco thought) and tossing it into one of the bowls. Snape tried to object to the mess (and, anyways, did Potter even know what he was doing?) but was ignored.
"Done!" Harry all but sang, "Here, drink up." He handed the bowl to Snape with an almost manic glee, obviously expecting the other to drink it.
Snape looked at Harry incredulously,
"Why would I consume any substance that you would willingly give me?"
It was this time for Harry to be openly incredulous,
"Do I have any reason to poison you? I'm trying to help you idiot! Do you think that the Dark mark will come off with a wave of my hand?"
"What makes you think that you can do anything against the Dark Lord's magic?" Snape sneered.
"What makes you think that I can't?" Harry's voice could only be described as deadly and Snape's fingers itched for his wand, "You've seen me do it before."
Draco grabbed the bowl and had its contents down his Head of House's throat faster than the other two could blink. Snape choked and spluttered (half because he hadn't expected it and half because of the horrible taste) while Harry blinked at his friend, clearly not expecting the interference.
"Thank you, 'Ric," Harry said pleasantly, once he got over his mild shock.
"What are friend's for?" Draco asked in response, "I've ended up doing that more times than I can count. I think your methods of convincing patients that you're here to help instead of poison them could use a little cleaning up."
Harry just shrugged in vague sort of gesture and once again pulled back Snape sleeve, spreading the (slightly thicker) contents of the second bowl over the Dark Mark.
"How dare…" Snape began, turning to glare at Draco but he was once again interrupted. Shadows sprang up all over the room and cold, very strong wind sprang up out of nowhere, even though they were surrounded by stone walls. Robes flapped and Draco grabbed bookshelf, which seemed to be heavy enough to resist the wind. Snape, too, grabbed the nearest piece of furniture, but the combined weight of the Professor and the rather solid chair made this a little unnecessary. Harry seemed entirely unaffected.
Hissing came from the center of the storm (for it really couldn't be called anything but that). Snape had first dismissed this as the wind but as it continued to grow louder, it began to form words that he could easily understand. This, then, was Parseltongue; another one of his abilities that Potter had stole from him upon returning to his proper time.
-Who dares interrupt my master?-
With something approaching horror, Snape realized that the sound was coming from his own arm.
-Nagini,- Harry sounded, if anything, annoyed, -What rights do you have to answer a Call meant for another? Your master disrespects me greatly by not speaking to me himself. You will get him, now, or I will correct this slight on my honor in my own way. Your execution is inevitable but it is by your own hands that you decide how much you suffer beforehand.-
There was some silence from the Dark Mark and then,
-Who are you to threaten my familiar?- The voice of Voldemort, even distorted by the snake language, made both Draco and Snape twitch.
-Who are you to declare yourself Dark Lord and, in my name and the names of hundreds of others murder innocent people?- Harry challenged, - Do not think either you kind or your ancestors appreciate what you have done in their names.-
There was a pause,
-You aren't Potter.-
These words, so similar to the ones that he had heard earlier from Moody, made Harry laugh before giving a different answer than before,
-Did you think Harry Potter could reach you in such a way? Harry Potter is not the only Parseltongue that wants you dead. You have ignited hatred in many people and you will pay for it.-
-And this man, Snape, is under your protection? What obligations do you have to a double-crossing traitor, who is friends with no man or woman?-
Harry laughed again,
-Who are you to decide who has friends and who doesn't? And what do I care who I have obligations to when I am willing to devote my time and effort to ensuring your demise? This man has access to a great deal of magic. You are leeching off this magic and eventually, when all this magic runs out, he will die. When that happens, your source of power will disappear but until then, you will be more powerful than usual. So, cut the source. Make sure that you can't have this power and the problem is solved. If I save his life in the process, and I ensure that an obstacle in your path stays alive, the better for me. An enemy of an enemy is, after all, a friend.-
-If you can spare his life so easily, why are you speaking to me? You will not beg me to spare his life?-
-Hardly,- Harry said coldly, -If you were half the wizard you pretend you are, you will notice that the connection has already been cut, and all that is left is for me to sever the magic that allows us to converse, and Severus Snape will be free from your power. I merely wished to inform you that you are a disgrace to all Parselmouths and anyone of Slytherin blood or house. I will see you dead, Riddle.- And he cut the remainder of the connection. In an instant, the shadows and wind all disappeared. Snape looked in awe (though he would later deny it) at his now unmarked arm.
Harry wobbled slightly, but kept his balance. There was some silence.
"So, what did you say?" Draco asked, not having understood a word of the conversation.
"Said I'd kill him, tell you later," Harry said shortly, not having the energy to say very much. Technically, the use of two different potions made what just happened a ritual (albeit a sort of tame one) and rituals were always very draining.
"Oh," Draco said. There really wasn't much else to day.
Wanting to get away from Snape, Harry stood to leave, and then froze, staring at a point on the wall,
"'Ric, do you see…" His head jerked up as his eyes traced some sort of movement and, in a split second, he had grabbed a dagger out of his sleeve and thrown it at the wall. Its tip sank a good inch or two into the wall, enchantments on the blade allowing it to slice even through the stone. However, when Draco looked up, not even a second later, there was nothing pinned under the blade. But Harry's (or at least Salazar's) aim with a throwing knife was flawless and he had yet to follow up with another one, as he would if he had missed.
Draco looked to his friend, who was looking towards his dagger with a strange expression,
"I don't suppose you saw…" Harry didn't finish the question.
"Saw what?" Draco asked impatiently.
"There was a…shadow on the wall. Except there was nothing in this room that could have cast a shadow like that. It was shaped strangely…Kind of like a human, only it was kind of…off. When I started to say something it moved and then when I threw my dagger, it kind of disappeared. I don't know," he shrugged, "Maybe I'm just being paranoid."
Draco didn't think that Harry was being paranoid. At least not overly so; whenever Salazar had been paranoid, it had later been proven that he had had good cause for being so,
"Do you know what it might have been?"
"I'd almost say it was a Scelus omen, except it didn't look anything like one. Because they're the things you find most commonly around places that are exposed to a lot of magic at once, like what I just did. I mean, there are a lot more…I think I'll have to research it." Harry definitely looked somehow unsettled.
"Have you ever seen anything like it?" Draco asked, unnerved just because it took something big do unnerve Harry.
"I…Think I did. When I…left," Harry chose his wording carefully, since Snape was still in the room (because Snape was sure to react positively to Harry saying "When I died), "did you, the other two, or even anyone else in the school mention seeing anything strange? A suspicious shadow?"
"I don't remember one. But it was a long time, and there were lots of strange rumors; I didn't hear them all. You'll have to ask them. Why?" Draco was definitely unnerved by now.
"I thought I saw something like that when I left. Behind you three," Harry noticed the expression on his friend's face and forced a smile, "But I'm sure that it's nothing. If you're worried about it, we can at least set up some anti-Magical Creature wards or something." He went and got his dagger out of the wall and carefully examined the stone around where the dagger had been, "I don't see anything weird. Maybe I killed it. Anyways, let's get to bed; it's late and I'm exhausted. We can talk about," he glanced sideways at Snape, "absolutely innocent things tomorrow." Which meant, of course, pranks.
However much that Harry protested that it was probably nothing, he still took the amulet that he had given Draco for his birthday and added more than a few new protection spells to it before they parted ways (and Draco knew that his friend had already put at least the basic anti-dark creature charms on it already).
Both boys went to bed troubled.
Snape, who was as tired from the ordeal as the boy who had cured him, stayed in the chair for quite some time, staring after them thoughtfully. Potter had demonstrated magic far beyond his level and had, if Snape could make himself examine his formerly repressed memories, been doing so for some time. He had also saved his life.
And there was, of course, the fact that both boys made allusions to events that Snape was sure hadn't occurred (unless the four days they had spent with the werewolf had been more eventful than it had appeared). Perhaps his visit to Snape's sixth year hadn't been Potter's only time-traveling experience this summer? And Snape still had yet to know the cause in the first place. Potter couldn't do magic and any potions that would cause anything near that effect, Snape would have thought far out of Potter's range. But if he acknowledged what Potter had just done and what Potter had said and done in the past…
Snape, too, went to bed troubled.
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It's really not that much of a cliffhanger. Kind of. Well, it's sort of a long chapter (just a little, you know, only more than three times my usual chapter length), so I hope everyone's happy! It didn't seem right to split it up, since it was only one day. Also, it came pretty soon (if you ignore the fact that when I started writing DA, this was my normal pace) and I'm staying up 'till over three in the morning writing this when I wanted to read…Well, I'm doing this for all of you! I'm getting more and more back into this story, so I think you can hope for the next chapter soon, but I also don't have any promises like I did last chapter. Also have a new Salazar!Harry lurking in the back of my mind in replacement (but not rewrite) for Tainted Betrayal by I refuse to acknowledge it until I finish Dark Angel (so there, persistent muses!)
I think that this is going to be something of a nightmare for me; introducing both Moody and Moony in the same place at the same time was hard enough but classes with them? I can't keep their names straight. I got them mixed up, what, five times? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review (it keeps the author happy)!