Seriously, some of you seemed to be pissed off that Harry isn't doing anything to try and "fix" his magic.
And? I don't particularly like the idea myself. I'm simply following the plan for the story.
Don't get all pissed off. If it helps, yes, he's going to get his magic fixed.
And now, the whole "binding magic thing." It has not been stated, that Dumbledore or anyone else has bound Harry's magic. If it has, it was a theory.
And theories can be wrong.
I quote a famed ninja statement: "Look underneath the underneath."
Now, sit down and read the chapter.
One more thing.
More than half this chapter is still pretty much all Quatreastrophe's, I only wrote about four pages.
Oh, and Snape fans, good news and bad news. Good news, Snape's here. Bad news, I think Snape's a dickhead, and from Quatreastrophe's original chapter, apparently that was what was planned already.
Chapter IX- Mervin and Magic
"Come along my boy. It's time to see what you know!" He said enthusiastically, gesturing at the door.
Harry looked at the purple robes that Dumbledore wore, and made the same gesture. "Ladies first."
The Headmaster chuckled heartily. "Women, children and the elderly first, I should think! And, that statement should be reserved for emergencies!"
"...Right," said Harry, following the creepy old guy.
The two went through the corridors, taking a different way from the route Pomfrey had taken.
Meanwhile, he'd have to evaluate Dumbledore. Obviously, the man knew something, Harry would stake his life on it- hell, he'd stake the universe on it.
Those charts looked interesting- he'd have to ask Pomfrey about them some other time.
Clearly, the Headmaster hadn't suspected Harry knew anything about his magic being...weakened, poisoned, damaged, whatever the correct term was. But how had Dumbledore done it. How?
The mind arts were of course, the most likely suspect. Harry would have added potions and herbs to the suspect list, but he was sure Pomfrey's tests would have noticed anything like that.
And the fact that Dumbledore didn't suspect Harry to know, but surely Dumbledore would have thought Harry would have realised that his magic had been restrained- Harry cut himself of in his thoughts.
From the beginning, Harry was wondering why someone would restrain his magic, why, what was the motive? It wasn't the intention. Dumbledore therefore, had done something else to him, and the weakening of his magic was slightly expected- obviously not to this level.
Damnit. Therefore, Dumbledore (of course, if he was the culprit) hadn't had a clue what he was doing whenever he'd had fiddled with Harry's mind.
And if a man who had over a century's worth of knowledge did this by mistake...bugger. What would be the chances of him finding out anything?
Harry was still very tempted to try and trick the old man into giving some answers- or even grab him by the beard and demand answers- but wasn't too keen on that idea, considering Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards in the world.
And he still remembered that daydream that ended with James yelling: "Obliviate him!"
"Hey, Dumbledore," said Harry. "What exactly are these tests about then?"
"Ah, yes!" said Dumbledore cheerfully, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. "I was wondering when you would ask! We need an approximate level- the OWL tests, of course, would be perfect, providing you were ready for them. The staff have decided to focus your tests on the more practical side- save those that have no practical, of course."
"Sounds wonderful," said Harry dryly.
"Isn't it? I'm sure any gaps in your knowledge can be filled in later, once you are placed in the appropriate level."
"What about the subjects you're testing me on? Do I even have a choice? I haven't even told you what subjects I'd take- you can't possibly be ready to test me in the correct subjects."
The old man stopped and turned to face Harry. "You're the one keeping so much information to yourself."
Harry had stopped as well, but didn't even give Dumbledore the courtesy of looking at him. "Am I? I'm sure there's many things you have yet to tell me."
The two looked at each other, still their eyes not meeting. And suddenly, Harry tensed, his heart rate increasing, and the war-drums steadily growing louder in his ears.
Was he seeing Dumbledore as an enemy?
He stopped however, when Dumbledore turned away and continued walking.
Hayden Potter, famed saviour of the wizarding world in the United Kingdom, and as described by a certain someone, an "arrogant bastard", was staring at the space where his father and the person who was his twin just Portkeyed away.
Hayden had been intimidated by Harry days ago. Actually, scared of Harry. Scratch both those comments, he'd almost wet himself when Harry slammed him into the wall. Sure, there were plenty of people willing to take the Boy-Who-Lived on, and sure, the mindless masses enjoyed turning on him once in a while (damnit, when he got older, the first thing to do would be to get the Daily Prophet abolished and to get someone to murder their reporters) but it was weird to be taken on by his own family.
That guy- his twin brother who had been missing for eleven years- Hayden wasn't sure to make of him.
Hayden doubted Harry had noticed that James and Lily Potter had been rushing off for so many meetings, probably because Harry had been studying, and because he was unfamiliar with the behaviour of his parents.
And strangely enough, not a word about Voldemort had been even whispered within the vicinity of Harry. Was that supposed to be some coincidence? The few times he had seen them talk were awkward, as if both sides were afraid on what to say, in case they give important information.
Hayden's eyes widened. Surely not...surely his parents and the group they were involved with (but would not allow him to join) did not suspect that Harry was in league with Voldemort?
Hayden headed towards his room, still thinking.
It couldn't be.
He may have been slammed into the wall by Harry (but looking back, he too had being acting arrogant- heck, the way Snape always described him to be), and he had been angered that his disappearance had caused so much grief to the family, but if there was one thing Hayden was sure of, was that Harry was not evil.
He had seen evil before, and Harry was nothing like that.
If the others believed Harry to be one of Voldemort's slaves, that meant either of two things. One, Hayden didn't have enough experience to judge the situation. Two, Dumbledore was too self-centred and refused to look into matters thoroughly enough
Poppy Pomfrey was still standing, shocked. How did Dumbledore brush off such an important incident as a fluke of accidental magic?
A door creaked open and Poppy was greeted with the sight of the mother of her patient- or former patient now, considering he had left.
"Did you get anything?" Lily's tone was serious, and Poppy immediately responded, handing over a medical report to the woman.
Lily read over the report, occasionally stopping at some points of interest, until- "This illness. It's not seen much in Europe. Should be warmer climates...tropics, I should think..."
Poppy nodded. Though Lily had graduated from Hogwarts seeking to make Charms into a profession, the war had found Healers much more necessary. And despite Lily gave up her career around when Oriana was born, she still knew her stuff.
"There's something else you should see," said Poppy, surrendering the chart still in her hands to Lily. "I tried the spell four times, those readings aren't mistakes."
Lily looked at the chart. "Power levels are strong, that's good. We thought they'd be depleted when we first heard he'd been found. According to Albus' research, we'd expected Harry's magic level to be drained to a squib. To find him healthy and able to use magic...a shock! A pleasant shock, of course..."
Poppy nervously cleared her throat. There had been falseness in that cheery attitude... "I still think you should tell young Harry. If Albus has fixed the "problem" as you say he has, there really is no harm in-"
"No! He mustn't know!"
"Would you prefer someone else tells him?!" Poppy demanded, finding her courage. "Things like this always get out. And I think he'd feel terrible about being involuntarily involved with-"
"But we don't even know if it was involuntary! What if...what if Harry's working with him?"
The matron's face softened. "I doubt that is the case. The boy may be uncouth and an uncooperative person, but not to work with ...him. But...I still wanted to know what you thought of this."
Poppy pointed to the mysterious line, but Lily only glared at it. "I don't know. Probably just an error."
"But it isn't!" Poppy wheeled Lily so they met face to face. "Listen to me! I don't think Albus entirely fixed the problem. I'm no expert in that matter, but I think something went wrong. And it's hurting your son-!"
"It's better than the alternative!" said Lily desperatedly. "I know it's horrible of me to say so, but so much damage has already happened. Vo-Voldemort is so powerful already! We can't let him get even more so."
James watched as Harry left the room with the school nurse. He walked over to Albus Dumbledore's side.
"Do you think they'll find anything?"
"They very well may. You'd be surprised what a few good spells can do. I have a search team at the ready, but I doubt even they will be able to find Voldemort's base. I was unable to find the location in young Harry's mind- I was unable to see any memories of where he's been all this time. Wherever he has been, there are powerful wards to hide its secrets."
James stared blankly at the doorway Harry had left through. "Please don't sound so sure Harry's working with Voldemort."
"Of course, of course..." Dumbledore turned to the staff. "Shall we get started?"
Each person present began setting up testing areas for Harry's tests. And James absent-mindedly started looking around the room, before getting jabbed in the back with a cane.
It was the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor who was miraculously returning for a second year- although, the first year may not count, since she could only teach sixth and seventh years, because of the Ministry insisting an old woman couldn't handle younger, rowdier classes, and so sent in the ugly, stupid, magic lacking inbred who looked like a cross between a troll's rear and a toad, called Dolores Umbridge.
Fortunately, they were rid of Umbridge, and the old woman was allowed to return.
"That son o' yers 'as got some attitude, eh? Filthy shoe, righ'? Disgustin', eh?"
James looked at the shoe in question. Admittedly, he'd had quite a few regrets about touching the things as well. "True," he said.
"Yeh, I'll be keepin' an eye on tha' one," she said, before hobbling away.
James Transfigured the shoe into something better-looking, something clean, in case Dumbledore decided that they would take a Portkey back. He shrunk the shoe and pocketed it just as the doors to the Great Hall burst open, startling all the occupants.
James rolled his eyes. It could only be one man to enter so dramatically.
Stupid disgusting spawn of that stupid disgusting Potter. How dare the filthy scum interrupt his vacation. He had been previously called away to the Dark Lord, but as he returned, he couldn't just be allowed to return to his work. No, he had to test some foolish run-away brat. The twin of that arrogant glory-monger so-called Boy-Who-Lived.
He'd show this foolish brat what Potions were all about, and make this brat regret returning.
"Severus! So good of you to join us!"
Dumbledore. If he ever saw the man less than happy for more than an hour, he'd die happy.
"Headmaster," replied Snape. "I've just returned from an important meeting."
"Indeed? Any news?"
"All he seemed to do was to have a headcount of his followers. The base was secure...as it always has been."
Snape shook his head to remove a chunk of hair that hung in front of his face, but the hair stuck together broke apart into small greasy strands. James shuddered.
"That is better than planning attacks, at least," said Dumbledore, musing over Snape's words. "You should get some more rest, Severus. Why, your work must leave you exhausted."
"I get enough rest, Headmaster." Admittedly, the whole double-agent role was very exhausting, but he felt it was more rewarding to take out his stress on someone, preferably with Potter as a surname. "If you'll excuse me, I need to prepare for Potter's vagrant of a son to completely fail."
Snape stormed off, and Dumbledore smiled. "I always enjoy Severus' unique views on the world."
James turned to the old man. "Harry's right. You are a maniac."
Harry entered the Great Hall with Dumbledore, still angered. It appeared Dumbledore was using these tests as some petty revenge on Harry for not revealing anything of his whereabouts for the past eleven years.
The room had been rearranged. A long table with professors sitting at it looked like a judging panel. The other professors were hanging around in a small area boxed off by the table.
A fairly old looking witch stood up and cleared her throat.
"Good morning Mr. Potter," she stated, as if she'd said it plenty of times before. Actually, she probably had. "I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration."
'Ah, Transfiguration...what was Transfiguration again?' wondered Harry. 'Oh yeah, transforming...and stuff...'
"Since this is a highly irregular case, your testing will be a review of the curriculum taught to students your age and younger to see your levels of education in each subject taught at this school. If any of the professors feel you are capable for your age group, we will send word to the Ministry of Magic, where you will be permitted to an attempt your Ordinary Wizarding Level. If you score well enough on your OWL, you may join your age group. Otherwise, the level you are placed in is up to the professor of that subject."
An ugly man with greasy hair and yellowed teeth smirked at those words. Something about him looked familiar to Harry, although it could just be the grease.
Dumbledore stood. "We will now begin. Filius?" He addressed a small man, who toddled over to Harry...
For the past few hours, Harry had been more bored then he'd ever been in his life. He'd done practical and written tests, and damn were they pointless. For Charms, he'd been given a feather and been told to make it do pretty much everything.
When McGonagall began, he had to turn random objects into even more random animals and furniture, and had to conjure a few things.
He'd done everything wordlessly, which by the reactions of the professors, was above average for his age, but something expected for the students to pick up on.
On a more positive note, whatever affected his magic hadn't done much to his wand casting abilities, but it had to be considered that he still reckoned that the wand was still the weaker tool.
From what he had gathered, the teachers placed him above average, which in Harry's standards was okay. There wasn't much point in being rated low- unless Harry wanted to be completely underestimated by potential enemies, and being rated high was only a little side-quest of his, to humiliate Hayden once again.
Harry knew he was being a bit childish by that, but it was still fun. Sort of like drugs. Addictive, fun at first, yet wrong, and has bad long-term effects.
And then he'd done his theory exams in Herbology, Astronomy, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy (where his knowledge had been poor, considering the Elumvians preferred to use practical experiments rather than theory to understand spells), Muggle Studies (he'd hoped that the Elumvian's knowledge in muggle items weren't out of date), History of Magic (who cared about all these goblin riots and troll outbreaks?) and Care of Magical Creatures (where the rather large teacher had been sad that he hadn't been able to provide a practical examination).
Then Harry would go practical into a subject they called Defence Against the Dark Arts, right after he did his Potions segment.
Dumbledore had left him in a side-room, with shelves along the walls, full of vials which contained numerous items.
A burner sat on a desk, strong metal wire above it holding up a cauldron. There were also numerous other tools, such as scalpels and weighing scales.
"Does it pass the exalted tag-along's inspection?" A smooth, mocking voice came from behind him. "Or do you think you deserve better?"
The man swooped around in front of Harry and scrutinized his appearance. "Ah, yes. There's no mistaking you for anything but the brother of our own dear celebrity. According to one theory on your disappearance, fame by relation wasn't good enough, so you ran away in hopes of receiving more attention when you returned." The man flipped his greasy hair out of his face and sneered. "That's what I know to be truth. Most people believe you were kidnapped as a child.
"The infamous Harry Potter—mistaken for his celebrity brother at a young age, he was kidnapped out of his own home by servants of the dark. 'How tragic,' the people claimed. 'But at least they didn't get the real one—our real savior,' they sighed in relief." The man sneered again as he got ready to wrap up his narration. "And then they all forgot. The end."
Harry was split into two. One half of him wanted to wonder why was this odd man making some stupid tale, while the other half of him wanted to tell the odd man to get a life. Harry did neither, and kept his mouth shut. Wisely.
"I am Professor Severus M. Snape-"
"What does the M stand for?" interrupted Harry.
"That is not your business!" thundered Snape.
"Oh come on...Mark. Marcus. Margaret. Meryl. Mordor. Marvi- no, Mervin."
Snape paled.
"It's true?" said Harry, before sniggering. "You're Severus Mervin Snape?"
"Shut up!"
"Okay...Mervin."
Snape tried to keep his cool, as he reached into his robes and removed several pieces of parchment. "Spawn of Potter, this is your test. Identify all ingredients in this room, and then prepare this potion." Snape handed him one piece of parchment that had nothing but numbers 1-50 down the side, and another piece that had instructions to prepare some sort of healing potion. "You have one and a half hours. Begin!"
Snape dramatically stormed out of the room without another word or a single glance back at his (potential) future student. Harry remained still, wondering at the strange man's abrupt story, brief instructions, stupid middle name, and sudden departure. He looked at all of the vials in the small area and sighed. Every single one was labelled with nothing but a number.
"Aw, sh-"
Snape paced around the desk in circles, his eyes never leaving the cauldron full of whatever Harry had made.
The Potions Professor came to a stop. "It is acceptable," he announced. Harry raised an eyebrow, from what he'd seen of the professor, he'd rather die then give Harry a good grade- "for a moronic third year. I won't have you in any higher level class then that."
Harry's mouth fell open. Yeah, the potion was probably poor, but he'd bet a fortune that the average third year wouldn't do better.
"Got something you wish to say, Potter?" spat Snape.
"As a matter of fact, yes," said Harry.
In the future, he'd look back and wonder where he got the courage from.
"I'd like to tell you to go and get a life, Mervin."
It was Snape's turn for his mouth to fall open, and Harry took that as his cue to leave. As he made his way back to the Great Hall, he saw Dumbledore pulling aside an angry, no scratch that, furious Snape.
Looks like the guy could dish them out but couldn't take them.
"So, my boy, it appears you are more advanced than we originally thought," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Just one subject left. Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Yay," cheered Harry mockingly.
Dumbledore continued on as if there had been no interruption. "This task will be more...draining than any other task."
"What's the task?" asked Harry cautiously.
"A survival task," said Dumbledore.
"...What?" said Harry.
"A survival task, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Set against a multitude of magical creatures. Good luck!" Dumbledore hurried to the "judges table" with the other teachers, and suddenly, a (most likely magical-creature-proof) glass wall appeared around them. The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Harry was treated to the sight of an Acromantula.
"One by one!" shouted Dumbledore through a hole that had appeared in the glass. "If it seems you are in a life-threatening situation, you will be rescued!"
"You've got to be-"
The Acromantula belted across the ground, all eight legs working furiously.
Harry drew his wand and carefully aimed. 'Abrumpo!' he thought, as he fired the spell, hitting a leg dead on.
The spell severed the leg, and the Acromantula crashed to the ground. Harry sent a few more spells to ensure it could not get up, before he pointed the wand at its eight eyes.
His curse blew through the giant spider's head, leaving a disgusting corpse in the hall.
"Don't people eat in here?" remarked Harry dryly.
"You were supposed to incapacitate it, not kill it," said Dumbledore.
"Dictionary definition. Incapacitate refers to depriving something of effectiveness, or putting it out of action. I've done just that, incapacitation in a slightly more extreme way," yawned Harry. "So, is that all?"
"Next!" shouted Snape, furious that the Acromantula hadn't killed Harry.
The doors opened again, and this time, a mountain troll entered.
"Where exactly are these things coming from?!" said Harry. "And is this even legal?! I'm sure this isn't on the sixth year curriculum!"
"A few years ago, two first years incapacitated a mountain troll, this should be easy!" said Dumbledore, as if he was telling Harry to just do some addition.
The troll stumbled forwards. It was unarmed, but a punch would still probably crack Harry's skull.
'Dumbledore sure has twisted ways of payback if you don't tell him something,' Harry thought, before aiming at the troll's head, small compared to the rest of its body.
'Aim for the eye...'
A well aimed Reducto destroyed one of the troll's eyes.
As the troll thrashed around furiously, Harry took his chance to set the troll's loincloth on fire.
The teen turned away. There were some things in life he never wanted to see, and a troll frantically trying to pat out its burning loincloth was one of those things.
"Is that considered incapacitation?"
"Right so that's...one Acromantula, a cave troll, a Red Cap, some sort of magic octopus," Harry continued listing the numerous creatures he had either incapacitated or killed. "And I haven't got one scratch on me. I guess that means I get full marks?"
Dumbledore nodded dumbly, either in shock or having a senior moment.
"Well, I suppose that's it, then?" said Harry.
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said, as the glass walls vanished, "Your results will be sent over to you tomorrow."
"What's the point?" said Harry. "It's best to get them sooner, otherwise I might not be able to do these OWL exams or whatever."
"Very well." Dumbledore handed an envelope to James who was approaching Harry with his new shoe in hand.
"Here," James said shortly, holding out the shoe.
"Ah, a better-looking shoe...this is just that old one Transfigured, isn't it?"
Not in any mood to deal with this, James darted forwards and once again, pressed the shoe into Harry's side.
Harry felt a familiar tug behind his naval as he was whisked through the air...
Harry landed on his rear, rubbing his arm. He hadn't landed on it, but for some reason, it had been paining since mid-way through the tests. And that Portkey seemed to have aggravated it.
"Here's your results by the way," said James, handing over the envelope.
Harry opened it, still scowling at James until the older man backed off a little.
Subject Testing of Harry Potter
Arithmancy- Average knowledge, third or fourth year rank. Not prepared to take an OWL.
Ancient Runes- Ready for OWL.
Herbology- Ready for OWL.
Muggle Studies- Ready for OWL.
Charms- Ready for OWL.
Potions- Around fourth or fifth year knowledge. Not prepared to take an OWL.
Transfiguration- Ready for OWL.
Defence Against the Dark Arts- Ready for OWL.
History of Magic- Third or fourth year knowledge. Not prepared to take an OWL.
Care of Magical Creatures- Around fourth of fifth year knowledge. Not prepared to take an OWL.
Astronomy- Ready for OWL.
"That's it?" said Harry. "He could've just told me."
James took the paper. "I suppose you'd get ready for your OWLs."
"Great, more studying," muttered Harry. "On a positive side, I don't have to see much of you."
"What was that?"
"Nothing," said Harry, as he rubbed his arm, as he felt another surge of pain rise.
"Something the matter?" asked James, looking at Harry.
"No, I'm fine, I'm fine- argh!" Harry howled as he collapsed to his knees, his left arm feebly clutching his right, pain uncontrollably shooting through his arm.
The pain spread, and soon enough, Harry was convulsing, his entire body in pain.
"Harry, what's the matter?!" shouted James.
The door was suddenly pushed open to reveal the youngest of the Potter family. "I thought I heard-" Her eyes fell upon her brother, his body uncontrollably in spasms. "Harry!"
"Get back Oriana!" shouted James, as he stooped to Harry lay, and began casting a Diagnostic Spell, but it only seemed to cause Harry more pain.
"But-!"
"I said get back!"
Oriana frantically considered what to do, before rushing over to the fireplace and fire-calling Hogwart's Hospital Wing...
"In the meantime, I should recommend that he have plenty of bed rest," suggested Poppy Pomfrey.
Harry was lying on his bed, semi-conscious, under the influence of concussion- having hit his head during his spasms, while James and Lily worryingly looked on.
"In the meantime, I would like to speak to you two, outside," said Pomfrey, practically whispered.
The two nodded and left the room, closing the door behind them.
Harry's eyes snapped open. 'Good thing I know how to fake concussion,' he thought, as he climbed out of bed as quietly as possible.
He snuck across the floor, taking good care to avoid any creaky floorboards, or anything that would give him away. Once he'd reached the door, he concentrated what little of his enhanced hearing he had, and began to eavesdrop on the three.
"There really is a serious problem with his magic!" urged Pomfrey, as quietly as possible. "Listen to me, what Albus did- it must have gone wrong!"
Harry congratulated himself silently. He was right. It was Dumbledore.
"And it's causing your son terrible pain!" said Pomfrey.
"But, it's still better than the alternative!"
"Snivelly has reported that he's started looking weaker when he calls his thugs around for a meeting," said James.
"Yes, but-" Pomfrey was cut off.
"It's not like we're not going to try and find some other way of stopping it, that doesn't cause Harry pain!" said James. "But in the meantime, it's all we've got."
Pomfrey was silent for a moment. "Still, I think you should tell him."
"But still, Harry might be working with him!"
"Yes, but think of the boy's mental state! What if he snaps! What if Oriana and Hayden get hurt!"
"Won't happen," said James confidently.
"What makes you so sure?"
"Well, Harry sort of slammed Hayden into a wall the other day. Oriana was laughing about it and told me provided Harry didn't get in trouble. So, I put up a couple of wards that'll stop any, violence against family. I didn't tell Hayden or Oriana though, if that's what you're thinking."
"Well, what if he decides to run away...again?!" demanded Pomfrey.
"Won't happen," said James confidently. "Dumbledore put up some wards-"
"You can't just keep putting up wards! He's practically a prisoner in his own home!"
There was a tense silence, and a sigh. "Look, we'll do our best, right? I'll talk to Dumbledore and tell him to put up some wards- that was a joke!" said James, seeing the two faces stare at him incredulously. "I'll ask him to try and find another way."
"Poppy, can you tell Albus about this?" asked Lily.
"Very well..."
The voices began to fade away, and footsteps were heard going down the stairs.
Harry paced across his room, furiously thinking.
So he was helpless. And what could a helpless person do against those with power? So he was stuck, probably going to have to stay in this room reading until whatever happened.
His magic had problems that involved him feeling pain and went into spasms. His physical abilities were useless, considering all the wards that had been put up- Harry had a feeling James had neglected to mention all the wards- and even if he'd escape, it'd probably take the simplest of tracing spells to find him.
This confirmed his theory that Dumbledore had been intending to do something else, that had screwed his magic up as a side-effect.
And what exactly had he been intending to do? And who was this someone who had been getting weaker, and had thugs? And this Snivelly, was he a spy? Was Snivelly some sort of codename?
But the most important thing was...he felt helpless. Weak.
His vision suddenly tinted red as he felt an uncontrollable wave of anger charge through him.
His magic, it was there! He felt powerful!
He roared, and smashed his fist into the wall, furious at it, furious at his parents, furious at anyone and anything...
And Harry was suddenly aware of pain, a fist-shaped dent in the wall, and his magic turning back to the weak form it had become.
The door opened.
"Harry, mum and dad told me to see if you were awake-" Oriana froze as she saw Harry's face.
Eyes that were ablaze, a madman in his gaze.
With a frightened squeak, Oriana slammed the door shut, and ran back downstairs, fear that she had never felt before present in her.
Harry fell to a knee, a grin on his face. From what just happened, he'd guess that whatever Dumbledore had done, the old man's mumbo-jumbo seemed to not work when he was in periods of intense emotion.
Finally, a clue. A clue that would provide him...his power.
AN:
Ah, an end. With cliff hangers too.
Well, so there you have it. Dumbledore ain't some crazy magic binder, he's just screwed up. 'cos when it's Dumbledore, I always assume him as "Good but Misguided." You know what they say, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions."
As for Hayden, no, I'm not redeeming him, that was some character development planned by Quatreastrophe. I'll find some use for the guy...maybe.
And as for Severus Mervin Snape- yeah, that's a reference to "Robin Hood Men in Tights."
Got anything you want to point out to me, or bitch about Harry? Feel free to review.