Harry Potter: Dark Lord, Loving Father
Chapter 5: Feeling Some Remorse?
It was time for his sixth year class, which included those students who had proved their worth on their OWL exams and scored an E or better. Harry sighed, sitting at his desk near the front of his desk, running his left hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the heirloom on his finger, comforting him, somewhat. He'd decided after some debate, that he'd teach the older students how to fend off Inferi. Harry had quite the experience with dealing with the buggers, and wasn't looking forward to any thoughts of a practical demonstration, as Lupin so often had done.
Apparently, the Defense Against the Dark Arts spot had still been cursed, much to Harry's chagrin -- either that, or it was because of the Headmasters the school had taken on after McGonagall. Unfortunately, it meant that Harry might only have a shot at this for a year, unless it wasn't really still cursed, just carried a stigma of sorts, perhaps?
Either way, it didn't really matter all too much at the moment. Draco had proved to be quite sluggish when he woke him up, not wanting to take any chances with a pepper up potion that Harry brewed -- which proved to work on Harry, at the least. Too bad if the Mafloy didn't want to take any chances -- then again, it was he who caused Draco to need the pepper up potion in the first place....
The first students of the morning began to trickle in, the younger Smith being the first, who, like always, seemed to be the perfect student, especially when it came to his class, according to the notes the previous professors' notes. In theory, Kaleb (Raphael, really, as he wished to be called by his middle name) was a Slytherin, but seemed, according to Al and Scorpius, to be a rather bookish individual for a Slytherin. Interesting, Harry thought, turning his thoughts to the topic he was going to teach.
What was that fire spell again? And was he summoning the fire, or was it just a spell to make fire? But how did it make the fire, since matter could not be created nor destroyed?
"Augh," Harry growled, tugging at his long locks once more. It occurred to him that this was a habit he'd picked up ever since he'd been hanging out with Draco more often -- too much stress and frustration in his life, perhaps?
"Professor Potter?" a girl asked, coming up to his desk, her books still in her arms. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I am fine," he replied, releasing his hair, sitting up straighter in his chair, looking up at the girl, forgetting who she was. Harry's eyes flickered to the name badge on her chest, then suddenly remembered that this was his niece that he was chatting with. "Rose!" he gasped. "I haven't seen you in ages, you look so very grown up, now," he said, to cover his own arse, so he'd get away with forgetting who she was.
"I'm doing good," she told him, flicking her hair over her shoulder -- ever the red that was so popular amongst the Weasley's.
Harry's eye twitched -- after so much practice with manners with Malfoy and company, he'd begun to internalize them so well, every time someone else made such a glaring offense, he couldn't stand it. "I'm so happy that you're doing so well," he managed, calming his nerves. After all, who knows what she was after -- she was Ginny's niece, too.
"I'm looking forward to what you're going to teach today," she replied, smiling, then turned to take her sear, apparently getting Harry's vibe that was nearly screaming that he'd rather just be left alone. He really wasn't looking forward to teaching this class at all.
In the few minutes left before the bell rang, the Heir of Slytherin contemplated how ironic it was that he, the future Dark Lord, was teaching these kids how to protect themselves against the magic that he and his future minions would use -- perhaps he should just focus on the creatures and how to deal with them, for now, as it so happened that they didn't have much teaching on, thankfully. This position, however, would likely prove to be an excellent cover for when (if ever) the Ministry started getting suspicious of him. How long, if at all, would it take for Kingsley and the rest of the Ministry to find out what Harry was up to, once he finally established himself as the Dark Lord?
The bell rang, almost causing the green-eyed wizard to jump out of his chair, but he controlled himself from appearing startled, getting up slowly to go before his class to lecture, introducing the awed (except for Rose and Raphael Smith, it seemed) sixth years to Inferi; what they are, how to defend against them, the spells used for driving them off, and so forth. At the end of the class lecture, nearly seven minutes before the bell would ring to let the class out, Harry turned to the sounds of books closing and parchment being rolled. He glared at the student in the desks before him, cutting himself off, mid-sentence.
"Packing up so early, already? On the first official day of class?" he questioned, eyebrows raised, eyeing them all closely. "You must have been rather spoiled by having professors who honestly didn't care much if you paid attention during class, but in my class, we will go until the bell rings," Harry informed them, arms crossed over his chest, sleeves rolled up from writing on the board. "Now, everyone except for Mr. Smith (who is the only one that I can see that isn't ready to dart out the door) will have to hand in twelve inches on Inferi and where you might come across them. And, I might add, you may not pester Mr. Smith about the question, either -- which counts as a quiz grade," he added, seeing the excellent smirk spreading across the Slytherin's face as he said that. It appeared to Harry that the boy was just as much of a Slytherin as he was "bookish", which was not all too bad to be, as he, himself, had found out as of recent.
"Class dismissed," he called, just as the bell began to ring -- it was going to be a long day, he could feel it already. Harry was beginning to yearn for going to see Salazar and introducing Draco to him, if the blonde would be able to see him, that is. He'd have to think about how to fix that, if that were an issue.
At the end of the day, Harry stretched himself out, yawning widely as the last of the students had left the room, excited now that he'd gotten through with all of the classes of the second day at Hogwarts. He was happy to be rid of the students, freeing him to do something much more interesting, which he was sure that Draco would agree with him on that (well, at least, the first part).
Gathering his things, Harry promptly left the class room, locking the doors, spelling them with anti-theft charms, on top of that, not wanting any of his enraged sixth or seventh years to take out their problems on him for what they did earlier. He even planned on skipping dinner tonight, at least, in the Great Hall, instead, spending it with Draco, perhaps, down in the Chamber of Secrets.
The previous night had been torture -- granted, it hadn't been nearly as bad as how the Dark Lord had subjected him to before, but it was... different. Having seen those usually bright eyes of Harry's go suddenly dim and burning with malicious intent, directed at him, at that, had caused Draco's whole being to tremble in fear of what was running through the Gryffindor's head. He was curious to know what sort of dream -- no, it'd have to have been some sort of horrendous nightmare, to get that sort of reaction from someone like Harry -- had caused the Boy-Who-Lived to lash out in such a manner. Draco wouldn't dare ask the man, himself; certainly not after what had happened last night. He would wait for a few days to go by, at the very least.
So far, Draco had been having a rather lousy day. Not to mention the fact that he had prominent dark circles under his eyes and was dead tired and very sore. No one even came within a yard radius of him, except for some foolish Gryffindors who got the full front of his wrath and slinked away with their tails between their legs. Throughout the day, between his classes, the Slytherin contemplated on how Harry had managed to get him back to the castle in one piece, undamaged, himself. On top of that, the man had found the time to brew a pepper up potion, for Merlin's sake! And what had possessed Potter to do such a charitable act? Draco had no idea, and he wasn't just about to down something that might be very toxic, seeing as Potter was the one who made it, after all.
After ample thought, as he was packing his supplies into his bag, Draco found that there was no other way that Harry could have accomplished all those things without having to go the whole night and morning without any sleep. To think that the Potter would actually be able to manage that and to avoid looking as tired and suspicious as Draco did?
Just as he was about to leave, he nearly ran into Scorpius, very unexpectedly. "Father," he managed, his breathing laboured, as he stabilized himself against the doorway into the potions lab. "I've got to talk with you -- Professor Greengrass... she..." the younger Malfoy paused, looking a bit closer at his father. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, just a bit of a late night," Draco admitted, shrugging somewhat absent-mindedly. "You were saying something about your Aunt?"
"She... we should talk about this in your rooms, I think," Scorpius told his father, keeping his voice low.
"I see," the elder replied, a bit intrigued. Well, he was going to meet Potter down in his rooms and it wasn't like he was going to keep something so trivial from the man, anyway.
And once the two reached the dungeons and entered the Slytherin Head's rooms, they found that Harry had beaten them, already making himself readily at home. "Hullo, Scorpius," he greeted, smiling good-naturedly at the two Malfoys. "I took the liberty of ordering something for the two of us, Draco. Are you joining us for dinner, Scorpius?" the Gryffindor inquired, the smile still plastered over his face, his eyes shinning much brighter than they usually did.
Draco automatically knew that something was up with Potter -- not something too bad, he hoped -- he'd had enough crap from his students today to put up with Potter's inane ramblings.
"Thank you for the offer, but I will decline," Scorpius replied, bowing his head slightly. "I just came to discuss something with Father, quickly."
"Do continue," Harry motioned, grinning, sitting back in his chair, crossing his legs languidly under his emerald-green robes, watching the two.
Scorpius was getting a bit unnerved with the display that Harry was putting on, swallowing slowly, then looking back to his father. "Professor Greengrass asked me today if the rumour was true..." he blushed, now thinking that he might've been wrong when he told Daphne what he did. He looked back at Harry, who appeared to be somewhat drunk, his longer hair brushed, for once, and clothed in much different robes than the ones he taught in (green ones, at that!). "Er, never mind, I'll just talk to you tomorrow -- I forgot that I promised to meet Al in the Library tonight," he made up, trying to avoid Draco's eyes as he marched to the door, swung it open and closed it swiftly behind him.
Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, Draco shook his head at Scorpius' temporary lunacy. He set down his things near the door and joined Harry at the small table he'd set up in the small room, set with a table cloth and the proper silver wear. "I think you've just proved the rumour true, Potter -- especially after last night," he said, rolling his eyes, too tired to put up much a fight.
"Oh, I suppose that your pleasantly worn out look did wonders concerning that particular rumour," Harry agreed, the grin turning into a wide smirk. "After dinner, I have something to show you."
"It better not be some poor animal that one of your students found trapped in some cubby, asking me if you want to keep it -- if that's the case, I'm just going to kill it," Draco intoned, his voice quite flat, but containing a hint of warning.
"Shall we eat?" Harry asked, quirking a brow at Draco, who sat across from him at their quaint little table.
Following the dinner, after clearing the table out of the room, Harry sat Draco down on the couch next to him, leaning forward, letting the blonde see the ring on his left hand. "Well, Draco, I'm going to demonstrate the powers of this Hallow -- now, watch closely..." he whispered, concentrating on seeing Salazar Slytherin once more, a rush of pleasure sweeping through him when he opened his eyes once more upon seeing the Malfoy's reaction.
Thanks in large part to Grae, once more, for the awesome amounts of help that she provides; and to Moogle, who is my saviour, sometimes. As well as to my wonderful reviewers! I love hearing what you think about the story, even if it's just a "cool".