AN: I do not own Harry Potter, Belongs to JK Rowling.

AN: Sorry it took so long to upload. Had some personal issues to deal with. Dealt with mainly now so shouldn't be an issue anymore. Just want to point out, that yes it's going rather slow, mainly showing a single day so far. But I'm trying to show what I'm changing and how it's affecting everything. I'm setting the scenes before I start adding in purely unique and original things that will either be taken well, or flamed horribly. Which for the record, I will simply delete. No flames.

If you don't like, don't read. That simple.

Enjoy, rate and review!

Chapter Six: The friend and the farce.

After arriving in the great hall, and seating himself down on one of the many empty benches. Harry couldn't help but realise just how long his day was going it felt like an entire week of issues had passed him by, but in reality it was of course only along the lines of three lessons worth.

Despite his decision to get a head start on his homework that he'd already managed to accumulate, homework he would usually put off till the night before it was needed to be handed in, he was soon interrupted. "Harry," upon looking up he was surprised to find someone he didn't expect. Though, there was only a few students with such red hair, he simply didn't think that Ginny would be the first person from the group argument, to be the first to attempt talking to him in a civil way. Though, it always had been Ginny in the past that managed to adapt the quickest. As well as the fact the argument she'd put forth during the incident at the train platform, in retrospect had seemed half hearted and more for show, than actually containing any heat. Not that it hurt any less.

"Ginny, don't you have class." The reply from Harry was not what Ginny had expected her fellow Gryffindor reaction to be. She'd gotten to know Harry better over the years. Partly from the amount of time he spent at the burrow. But mainly from the tales that she'd hear being told about the boy-who-lived, from reliable sources, such as Ron and Hermione, who in Ginny's opinion, were maybe not as reliable as they had once seemed to be. And of course the rumour mill that Hogwarts was somewhat famous for.

"Sort of, Luna fainted during our Herbology lesson. Apparently she has an extreme allergic reaction to bees. Someone claimed one had wandered into the greenhouse to get out of the cold and landed on her shoulder. Either way, I offered to take her to the infirmary and was on my way back." The youngest Weasley explained, the red hair her family was famous for being draped delicately over her ears, something Harry had trouble taking his eyes off of.

He couldn't explain it but over the years, Harry couldn't help but take notice of Ginny. He knew that Ron had made multiple comments about his opinion on his younger sister and boys. So Harry was well aware of the uproar he'd cause if anything was to happen. And with his hormones going whack, he made sure not to let himself be the possible cause for that uproar.

"Well if you see her before me, give her my regards." Harry's statement, whilst not exactly cold, was cautious and calculating, a tone which Harry had been working on during the summer.

With the failure of saving his godfather, Harry was glad that he'd had enough brains to purchase an Occlumency book from a flourish and blotts catalogue. He was more than simply determined not to let another incident occur. That meant that with his sessions with Snape ended after one particular incident, he took it upon himself to teach himself the noble art of defending one's mind. Having much more luck when actually given instructions. Another thing that he could blame on Dumbledore, or at least in his opinion.

"I'll make sure to do that, but I had heard that you fainted in one of the corridors and was brought to Madam Pomfrey. I was hoping I would also have been able to talk to you." Upon finishing her statement, Harry noticed her eyes falling downwards. Even he could tell that she felt guilty.

"I was wondering when you would. Well I'm here and I've got a free period til lunch."

After silence for a moment, in which Harry could see the cogs seemingly whirling in the girls head she asked a question that he was sure would bite him in the butt soon. "Hang-on. I thought you and Hermione had potions with Snape?"

"I did, but I felt my skill of pissing the greasy git might be rusty, upon a brief test, I found they were sharper than ever. I've now got many more free periods than I know what to do with."

At the explanation the youngest Weasley couldn't help but laugh loudly, her giggle echoing through the empty hall. "I bet Hermione was fuming as much as the grease ball himself."

"That would be an accurate guess. Though except those two, I left the room to a standing ovation." Despite himself Harry couldn't help but chuckle as well, a smirk tugging his lips. After his laughter ended however, he sorely missed the sound of his two friends laughing at his sides.

It was the redheaded girl, who had sat opposite him that was the one to break the ice that had settled after the pleasantries had worn off. "Look Harry, I'll cut to the chase. I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. I didn't mean anything that I'd said really. It was conditioning. And I know how stupid that probably sounds but, from living with my mother my whole life, you get used to hearing how great Dumbledore is, Dumbledores word is practically law in our house. But in reality, unlike others, I wouldn't do what he says just because of who he is. What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry about what I said and I hope that we can continue being friends."

After a few minutes in silence, Harry truly took every word in that the girl had said. He knew what she explained was true; anything negative about Dumbledore was pretty much universally met with the same reaction. People who in fact didn't like him any much more than Harry did were still reacting the same way. And Harry couldn't help but feel stupid for not noticing it before.

Though that was a different discussion for a different time. The end result now, being the Weasley female in front of him, patiently waiting to hear whether she was forgiven or not.

"Ginny, I'd be glad to have you as my friend. I understand what you're saying completely. Heck, I'd have been in your place this time last year."

At this the young redhead leaned over the table to give Harry an almost bone breaking hug. Apparently it was the answer that she's most needed to hear.

"Though of course this time last year, you'd have been kicked out of an Umbitch lesson." Was the reply after the hug which Harry would silently claim was eerily reminiscent of Molly Weasley.

After another bout of laughter Harry noticed someone enter the hall, it wasn't until they were closer that he recognised the hunched over figure of Filch. And despite not seeing his cat anywhere, was sure Mrs. Norris was around somewhere.

"What are you two doing out of class? You'll be serving a detention as soon as a Professor hears about this."

"I don't have a class right now thanks to Snape and my friend was on her way back from the infirmary. Both doing nothing deserving of detentions. So unless you have something else to say why don't you go clean something."

After resembling a fish opening and closing its mouth for a couple of seconds, he soon got another sneer plastered on his face. "How dare you talk to me like that Potter, I'll have you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons."

"And we both know that won't happen either. Now I'm sure you've got something of importance to say or you would be off playing house with your cat if you didn't."

To say Ginny was surprised by Harry's new personality would have been an understatement; it was one thing to hear an emotional outburst on the train station. Especially after all that the boy-who-lived had been through. Or talking back to someone like Snape, who everyone wished they had the courage to do. But to hear it said as calmly and coldly as he had, were both extremely funny, and a little bit cause for concern. Either way, she couldn't help but feel that she liked the new Harry Potter.

Instead of snapping another punishment threat, something which in and of itself was an achievement to obtain from the grouchy man. Filch instead threw a piece of parchment on the floor at Harrys feet and left the room storming.

Instantly causing both teens to laugh at his retreating form.

Realising she really should get back to her Herbology class. She knew her partner would be needing help. Their spine spitting shrub would be acting up the moment she wasn't stroking it, but Luna needed her more.

"I really should get back. I'm sure my partner will probably be looking like a pincushion by now," when all she received was a raised eyebrow she quickly elaborated, "spine spitter shrub."

Receiving a silent mouth movement of 'ah' in reply she smiled, waved and left in the direction of the greenhouses. In a much happier mood than when she left.

Shortly after watching ginny leave, Harry took the opportunity to read the note, his happy demeanour disappearing immediately.

Packing his things up, he deliberately slowly, made his way towards Dumbledores office. Grumbling the entire way to the gargoyle, which before Harry had a chance to start guessing the password for, passed aside and rose up. The magical equivalent of an elevator.

Before he could knock on the door, he heard Albus's cheery voice call from the other side. "Come in Harry."

Sighing and putting up what little amount of Occlumency shields he did have, strolled into the room as if he liked the man.

"Take a seat Harry, lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered with his most grandfatherly tone he could muster, his customary twinkle in his eye flickering away like a firework. Something which according to his books he bought is the sign of a combination of compulsion charms and Legilimency. He knew it wasn't a normal twinkle. 'Damn the old man and his tricks, how many years had he been doing that to me? Or other students?'

"No thank you sir." Was the strained but still polite reply that Harry managed upon remembering not to look the old man directly in the eyes. "Is there something in specific you wanted to punish me for?"

"Now Harry my boy, what makes you think I'm going to punish you?" the twinkle going overboard. Of course Harry knew the old fart knew exactly what the answer was. Harry, despite his glasses was far from blind, he could see a piece of parchment on the headmaster's desk, in what Harry recognised as Snapes usual chicken scratching.

The Gryffindor golden boy however, was far from letting the conversation go easy. Gone were the times when he would play Dumbledores little games.

"Maybe because Snapes an idiot who can't let go of his past. And I just happened to remind him why he hates me?"

"Professor Snape, Harry. And the issue of your conversation with Professor Snape is one of the things I wanted to discuss with you." His tone still that of an old man wanting to help.

"Far as I'm concerned, that man is not a Professor of mine." Harry's reply came quick and calm despite his dislike for the man.

"Harry my boy, I understand you two don't always see eye-to-eye but I trust him and so should you."

"Personally I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. And if he was worthy of your trust he'd have left his issues in the past. If you wasn't forcing him to teach me I'm sure things would have been better off."

"Harry, both Severus and I discussed that you need to continue taking potions, and despite today's confrontation, in which I'll talk to him about once he finishes with his class. I'm sure will continue as planned. Though I had hoped my friend Horace could have taken the position so this might not have happened, but alas, potions are still available to you."

"Actually sir, I don't see myself being a potions master in the future nor do I care very much for being in Snapes presence. Nor he mine I'm sure. I'll find something more fitting of my time." Despite the calmness in harry's tone his feelings were anything but, the only thing he kept thinking about was the man's visit during the summer. That and his constant meddling.

Harry was in the middle of chores, when he heard the doorbell ring. His uncle being as lazy as he was, shouted for Harry to get it. Groaning at being disturbed when he was nearly finished, Harry fled down the stairs to try and get whatever it was done quickly.

Opening the door Harry was however surprised to find Dumbledore stood on the other side, wearing his normal set of blue wizarding robes, not even bothering to try and blend in.

"How are you, my boy?" The headmaster asked loudly and happily in his usual grandfatherly tone.

Harry struggled to find an appropriate answer. But ushered the man in regardless.

Thankfully his uncle was busy watching something on TV and so no shouting came from the living room. Maybe he recognised Dumbledores voice for some reason and knew not to interrupt. Maybe he just simply didn't care. Either way, Harry wasn't going to advertise the fact he'd let a one of the most important magical people into the house. After a second of silence, he got back to the question at hand.

"I'm grieving, professor." Harry replied after a while.

He didn't want to talk to Dumbledore any more than he had to. He needed a leader, not a kind old man to share personal conversations with, and Harry doubted he'd be able to continue keeping his temper under control during that intense of a conversation.

"May I ask why you are visiting Privet Drive?" Harry prompted, remembering the vague letter Dumbledore had sent him. And the reply he'd sent back in return.

"I have a favour to ask of you Harry, though I admit I've already asked too much of you as it is." The headmaster started. Harry matched Dumbledore's gaze seriously, despite the warnings in his occulamancy books not to.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry prompted. 'Asking for a favour from me after what he's responsible for? What a joke!' he thought angrily. But listened on regardless.

"Well, as you know, Hogwarts needs a new Defence against the Dark Arts professor. I have been working for months now to get a Mr. Horace E. Slughorn to come out of retirement to take over the potions class, but he has refused me. He wishes to stay in hiding you see, though I have repeatedly managed to convince him that he would be quite safe at Hogwarts."

"Why do you need me?" Harry asked, knowing he was not going to help in any way, for whatever reason, regardless. Besides, if they were replacing Snape, and it was no secret what job the greasy git wanted.. well, that's a no already, if his workings out were correct.

"Well you see, I was hoping to show Slughorn that he could once again do great things as a professor. We are becoming quite desperate to fill our Defence position. You see, I've known for years now that Slughorn has a bit of an affinity for the famous and powerful, nothing dangerous, but enough that you could be of great help to me."

Harry felt his rage rumble beneath his grief once more. Barely containing himself from using specific words that his cousin Dudley would most likely even blush at.

"No professor, I will not go with you." Harry responded coldly and calmly.

"Harry, my boy-"

"I will not be used, professor." Harry enunciated. He felt his annoyance roar up. He pushed his anger back under his control, congratulating himself for having controlled it so well, especially when after his previous discussion with the supreme mugwump ended with him destroying various trinkets and baubles in the headmasters' office.

Needless to say Harry was finished with the conversation, before giving the white bearded old man another chance to speak he decided to end it so he could get back to his room. "Thank you for visiting, Professor." Harry responded carefully, before glancing slightly towards the door in which he opened.

"Harry, I'm not only here to ask for your help with Slughorn, you know. I can apparate you to the Weasleys on my way out; they would be overjoyed to see you." Dumbledore mentioned, repeating his offer from the letter.

"No, thank you, professor. I believe I already sent you my reply in regards to that offer. " Harry answered immediately. At the moment, he preferred the idea of being alone with his thoughts rather than in the crazy hustle and bustle of the burrow.

"The Weasleys are happy to open their home to you, Harry." Dumbledore said and flickered his eyes from Harry to the larger boy behind him who was walking back up the stairs upon seeing the man in the funny clothes.

"I know." Harry said.

'After all these years, he's now going to let me? Bullshit. Is he trying to control me yet again? Well no way!' Harry thought, and felt real anger threaten his control again.

"You want to stay here?" Dumbledore pressed, sounding surprised, though perfectly polite.

Harry in reply simply nodded.

"You wish to remain here, Harry?" Dumbledore repeated, looking strangely pleased. The act of repeating himself only working to fuel Harry's anger even more.

"Yes." Harry replied tight lipped, trying to hide his desire to slam the door in the old man's face.

Thankfully, Harry's uncle Vernon decided that he wanted the freaky old man gone, so chose that moment to shout from the other room to slam the door and get back to chores. Dumbledore, whilst disliking the words Harry's guardian chose, smiled politely in Harrys direction, a twinkle in his eye like normal and walked himself out. Slowly making his way down the road, where Harry could only guess he would apparate from.

Once up in his room, the silence only managed to fuel Harry's anger. So badly had he wanted to curse the old man. When literally in the same house, actually hearing the abuse he had to put up with, simply smiled and walked off without saying a thing to change it.

Dumbledore had forced him to stay with Petunia for years, even though the 'wise mentor' had known that he'd been mistreated, had seen as he'd entered the Great Hall that first time that he was smaller than the rest of the first years.

'I was so fucking malnourished that it affected my growth.'

Harry had been thrilled beyond words that first Christmas that even he had gifts, he'd felt more joy than he'd ever had in his life that night.

He'd loved Mrs. Weasley instantly for letting him speak at the table and smiling at him and calling him 'dear', because a hug was enough to earn all of his loyalty. She'd gained his love in minutes, and that didn't happen to happy, normal children. Happy normal children didn't cling to random adults like that and thanks to Dumbledore, Harry had had to accept that he'd been one of those miserable children that adults called "neglected" and "abused". Because only neglected children craved affection and love that much.

He'd figured it out in third year, after Sirius had offered him a new place to stay, and he'd thought for a few precious hours that he didn't have be neglected or abused anymore. And that single thought had opened the levee, and he'd been flooded with thoughts and memories that wouldn't leave him alone until he'd accepted it, that he was one of those children the NSCCP made commercials about, the children that were locked in cupboards and cursed out and hit over the head with frying pans and abused, and fuck, Harry had hated thinking of himself like that.

And he'd had to, because fucking Professor Dumbledore had left him with the Dursleys.

Dumbledore left his precious "one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord" in a fucking basket with a blanket and a note in November on a doorstep with Death Eaters still at large and the war still very much a happening thing, and then had the audacity to think Harry didn't recognize the fact that he'd been left in Hell by the man.

'Heh, shite, I literally went to hell in a hand basket.'

The single amusing thought did wonders to cheer him up sometimes.

Despite not having quite finished discussing things with the young man in his office, Dumbledore was interrupted when his floo flared up to the side of the room. "I'm sorry Harry that yet again we're unable to finish our talk. Rest assured I'll have a message with instructions sent along with regards to what we've spoken about."

"Yes Professor Dumbledore." Intent on getting out of the office Harry was quick to rise to his feet, causing the chair he sat in to scuff along the floor causing an unpleasant noise, and strolled out of the room, slamming his door on the way out, unintentionally of course.

'the day I go back to potions is the day Snapes dead. Not a day sooner.' He thought whilst making his way to the grand hall, his stomach growling like a dragon the entire way there.

AN: Hope you enjoy, this is where I start making things more unique.