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Really glad I posted chapters 2 and 3 together; they were both so short. I apologize for them, they were apparently just lazy chapters. I will try to make them longer from now on.
My Heart Burns
Chapter IV: Pain Redefined
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Where there is light, a shadow will follow.
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It is a good thing, to have this new instructor, who was such an imbecile. Gilderoy Lockhart may be a pompous fool, but fools can be used. To Harry's credit, he could stand the infantile gestures towards fame and adoration for the goal. He would use Lockhart to gain access to the Restricted Section for his entire second year at Hogwarts.
Or, that was the plan, at least. You should never really count on a plan working until it actually worked. Harry knew all about failed plans.
Though, it was going well so far. Term was started and everything was busy, everyone going about their daily routines in the school. Homework was shelled out, the library was full once more, and the awed stares and whispers in the halls returned in Harry's life.
The professors had managed to quash most of the talk of last year's debacle, or at least the truth of the it. Rumors still flew though, and now Harry was again the topic of conversation.
A new goal had been found, a new plan hatched this year. Harry had no time to diddle about with professors and their Cornish pixies. He had no time to just sit and have a nice, relaxing dinner. Harry had no time for conversation anymore. His ambitions would no longer allow for friends and pleasantries.
Every day, every hour of free time would be well spent. Spent with books, notes, theories, and his wand. Practice makes perfect, and so Harry practiced. Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, all of it Harry devoured, and when the homework was completed perfectly, he would research other things, more advanced things. Harry learned about monsters that resembled blankets, that crept about at night and smothered humans in their own bed before it swallowed them whole like a snake. Harry learned of curses so powerful, so dreadful as to flay an enemy alive. Or boil the organs. He learned of a jinx to keep someone from apparating, and then he learned how to shoot arrows from the tip of his wand.
Harry found out about a magical snake that lays eggs of fiery embers, eggs that can burn down a building within minutes if they are not properly frozen, and if not in time. The ashwinder, the serpent is called, leaves a thin trail of ash in its wake, and born of a magical fire, seeks out the dark to lay its embers before turning to the same ashy dust.
After finding this, Harry learned one more new bit of information. He learned that the incantation to the Killing Curse is Avada Kedavra.
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"Avada Kedavra!"
Lucius Malfoy stood above Mr. William Edgecroft, who now lay dead on the floor of his own living room. This Edgecroft was no one of any real importance, a lowly Ministry employ who played secretary to Arthur Weasley. Edgecroft actually worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, making a measly living by measuring cauldrons all day. This man is- was- a good friend to Weasley, and they would pull small favors for each other while at work. Edgecroft, until now, had been in possession of a certain document, a seemingly unimportant note describing set trading standards for cauldrons that were soon to be revised. It was the item Lucius had come for.
It was funny, how the senior Malfoy worked. Edgecroft would be the first of many more deaths that would become common within the next few years. Lucius came into this man's home, knowing his occupation, exactly what he did everyday, even his favorite café, but now that he had what he needed, Lucius would forget William Edgecroft's name the moment he walked out the door.
It had only been two weeks since Quirrell had arrived in the Malfoy Manor and stationed himself properly. Lucius remembered him as the stuttering fool who Dumbledore made the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor last year, before Quirrell tortured Harry Potter and made off with a priceless jewel, the Philosopher's Stone. When Lucius had first been contacted by this Quirrell, he assumed consumption of the Elixir of Life had changed the turban-clad teacher into something darker, something of a rising Dark Lord. That is, until Lucius finally saw Quirrell. The man who'd entered the manor was not Quirrell, it was plain by the pale skin and scarlet eyes. Quirrell was gone, and in his place was the Dark Lord Voldemort.
So here was Lucius Malfoy, accomplishing tasks for his master once more, bringing the first mission to success, so that soon, the war could begin again.
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Aggravated, Harry held his arm down on the table with more force than necessary. He tried willing it to stop shaking, so that he might continue on with his lessons. All summer it had trembled, the movement becoming more pronounced each day. Now, it was really getting on Harry's nerves. With this problem, ambidextrous wand training would have to be put on hold.
Charms finally let out and Harry was thankful, until he remembered where he had to go next. Lockhart had put together a dueling club, presumably after sweet-talking the headmaster. Chatter among students was excited and fast, everyone was apparently looking forward to dueling. Everyone except Harry, that is. As far as he was concerned, he had far better things to do with his time instead of playing.
A few long moments later and the entire student body was congregated around one long, velvet-covered table in the Great Hall. Lockhart strutted the length of the table, spouting rubbish as usual, before introducing a very angry Professor Snape as his assistant. Apparently this little dueling club was mandatory for more than just the students.
The first "demonstration" found Lockhart wandless and blushing, courtesy of Snape. After this most recent show of incompetence, Lockhart decided to throw the students against each other. Harry knew, just knew, that he would be picked by the celebrity teacher of theirs, and he was correct. He climbed atop the stage and waited while Snape argued with Lockhart over who would duel Harry. Snape won, of course, and the Slytherins cheered for Harry as he faced off with a fifth year Ravenclaw.
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Dinner that night was loud and proud at the Slytherin table. Harry had been congratulated by nearly every boy and girl in his house, all of them feeling superior that one of their second years could so utterly defeat an upper year student of what is known as the smartest house in Hogwarts. Harry's dorm mates were gathered around him, still impressed by his demonstration of the shield charm, Protego. The rest of the school ate in what seemed to be a quiet depression.
Harry wished they would calm down already, but Malfoy's mouth kept them going.
"I knew Potter would show that Ravenclaw a thing or two. Potter's a Slytherin, and we're the best. That Ravenclaw- what was his name again?- should have known better."
Nott, tired of Draco now, spoke up from beside Harry.
"His name is Ewan Bradley, Malfoy. I can't see how you would forgot. He's the one who always insults Slytherin, saying we "don't have enough brains to go along with our abundance of ambition". You've always hated him, remember?"
A few laughs echoed around as Malfoy rolled his eyes and sent a dirty look toward the Ravenclaws.
"Besides," Nott said, "Snape was making a point when he pit Bradley against Harry."
Theodore stopped talking, in favor of another bite of potatoes. Harry looked at his friend from the side, knowing this was just a tactic Nott liked to use a lot. He would say something to get attention, and go silent again, counting how many curious looks he could rack up. Nott liked baiting people. Finally, he continued.
"Actually, there are a few reasons Snape did that. But the main one, I think, was to teach the whole school, not just Ravenclaw, a lesson about Slytherin. You see, he wanted to remind everyone that our house is dangerous, still dangerous, and anyone who decides to become an enemy to a Slytherin better think again."
All who had heard Nott's speech went silent, knowing exactly what he was implying. Most of the students sitting at that table were the children and grandchildren of Death Eaters. They'd all heard stories of the dread their own families had caused when the Dark Lord was around.
They had all been taught how to manipulate and lie, but some of them had been instructed in the ways of true control; fear. Causing terror throughout Britain had been the Dark Lord's favorite tool. It had given him and his servants control over everyone, to some degree. People like Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, even Millicent Bulstrode, learned the lesson of fear early, and they knew now that fear could be a very strong motivation.
Even Harry knew all of that. He'd learned from experience. While Draco Malfoy had been instructed on how to torture someone, Harry knew what it was like to be tortured. Harry knew what it felt like to kill.
Stories of horrific things were informative, no doubt about that, but knowing those terrifying things, having looked them in the face and survived, was knowledge indispensable.
People will deceive you. Memories don't lie.
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Other than the "accident" in May that caused Professor Lockhart to tuck tail and leave Hogwarts fearing for his life, the rest of the year had been quiet. Harry finished his second year with the top marks of his class, narrowly beating out one Gryffindor girl.
Though school had gone relatively well this term, another threat seemed to be looming just over the horizon. The Daily Prophet had actually started printing news instead of trivial rumors, which would have been a miracle in itself, if the news it was now spreading wasn't so dire.
Two wizards, both Ministry of Magic employees, were found dead in their homes.
The newspaper printed that they had been murdered, but the Ministry denied it. The government had no comment, they never would, though they adamantly stood by their diagnosis that these men had died because of accidents. The Daily Prophet sarcastically let the world know that these two victims had "accidentally" cast the Killing Curse on themselves.
When Harry would go to breakfast, he could feel the Headmaster's eyes on him. When Harry would go to lunch, he could see the Headmaster watching him. When Harry would go to dinner, he could sense the Headmaster trying to look through him.
Harry would fight the urge to look back and make some kind of connection with Dumbledore. He would avoid any kind of acknowledgment to the old wizard. Yes, Harry knew it was Voldemort. Yes, Harry knew that Dumbledore knew it was Voldemort as well. Dumbledore would try again and again to catch Harry's eye, but Harry would not look.
Harry knew that making eye contact with a Legilimens would be extremely bad for his health.
A big thank you to anyone who reads this! And an even bigger thank you to the reviewers! You guys have helped me get more updates going and make this story worth writing!