Paint the Pages Black

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

#-#

Three Days Later

After gathering the remaining information from the shitty Walrus - who had nervously asked the fucking giraffe - Harry was found lying on his back, a pink bubble being blown and a white book hiding eyes from view. Lazy the scene may be, Harry's mind was full of thoughts and things to do along with what blackmail would last while he was gone from the neighborhood.

From what he gathered from the shitty Walrus, the school year started in September and ended sometime in June - there was also Winter and Spring Break, each about two to three weeks long.

No. 3 would be useless by Winter, the deal I had with Mafia would also end sometime before break - No. 6, 5 and 7 would be fine, their pictures would last a lifetime - but then No. 3 would be in the Mafia's loving hands while No. 1 will be in jail. Officer Jefferson will be fine - but I need to find something new on him as he's getting a bit rebellious. The Judge at the Courts also needs a reminder... Hogwarts is turning more troublesome than expected.

Thinking carefully, he decided to send a letter back to the Deputy Headmistress stating that he needed someone to come and introduce him to the other world. Not going wasn't even considered. With magic, blackmail would be made that much more easier. "Kekeke..." The rather evil aura he was emitting made more than one person shiver - looking up to the sky and crossing themselves.

He needed more people. He had figured this out a while ago, but there hadn't been anyone worth mentioning on the mundane streets of Privet Drive. (1.) Contrary to popular disbelief, there was a sort of order to his chaos. And his chaos needed a lot of order. So help would definitely be needed before he left to Hogwarts.

Leaving that chore for another day, as Harry figured there would be an opportunity sometime or another, he thoughts turned inward. At the moment, magic was at the forefront of his mind, diabolic musings ricocheting around in his head.

Fangs flashed and Harry was sitting up, letter in hand and a manic grin on his face. "This was gonna be good." Pop.

Two Months Later

The knock on the door came at the inappropriate time of two o'clock in the afternoon. Inappropriate as both Mr. and Mrs. Dursley weren't home, Dudley was at school and no one wanted to know what Harry did in his spare time. ( No one questioned the fact he should be in school, not out on his own. )

Standing in the same spot for ten minutes, waiting for someone that wasn't there would make anyone's temper simmer, but Minerva McGonagall wasn't anyone. She was a teacher - lasting over thirty years - and a war veteran; patience, although lesser than her brighter qualities, was something she had learned the hard way.

( After all, not everything could be won with Gryffindor brashness and stupidi- eh hem - bravery. )

Walking back onto the empty streets - and dressed in Muggle attire - she wondered where on earth everyone was. The sudden sound to her left made her turn, No. 5 was out and about.

"Excuse me good sir!" She called, voice clipped and commanding - the man immediately froze.

Head tilted to the side, No. 5 made an inquiring sound in the back of his throat, close enough for the Professor to hear but far enough that McGonagall couldn't see the color of his eyes.

"Do you know where Harry Potter-" That was as far as she got as multiple screams echoed throughout the neighborhood. No. 5 being the closest and loudest, No. 6 not far behind and No. 3 whimpering in complete and utter fear.

"Harry Potter? Where!?"

"Oh god! Don't show my wife those pictures!"

"He's gonna kill us all!"

People were screaming, crying and literally running rampant in the streets, it turned even worse when one of them tried to grab her by the shoulders; intent on shaking some sense into the woman who was willingly going to find that, that, that - DEMON.

Eyes widening to epic proportions, McGonagall walked away quickly, black heels hitting the pavement as her mind went through what had just happened. Harry Potter? Was he turned into a menace like the spoilt child Petunia was raising? No, that wouldn't gain such a large reaction. Disgust, contempt and maybe anger - but fear, panic and alarm? What has this child turned into?

Her answer came immediately and unexpected.

"You're the teacher?"

A loose shirt hung from skinny shoulders - black in coloring and reading "Sarcasm. It Beats Killing People." in bold, red lettering - while white suspenders were clipped onto tight, dark brown - nearly black - pants.

The clothing wasn't bad compared to other children - and Minerva uses that word laxly, especially considering how the kids these days were speaking and dressing. The swear words they used and the way the girls and boys dressed - the girls in particular. She had never seen a child so young dressed as some kind of hussy.

So no, it wasn't the clothing that surprised i.e. shocked her, no - it was the boy in them.

Slightly pointed ears - maybe some latent elfin heritage? - were pierced through with; two hoops and two studs on the left and three studs on the right, devilish green eyes peeking out from spiky bangs, hair spiked up as well, nearly defying gravity with the way it reached for the sky.

The rather famous - or infamous - lightening scar was hidden from view by the bangs as well. As if knowing where her gaze was resting, the boy smirked, bringing attention to pointed incisors and a flash of pink gum. Then there was the body language.

While she may not be as good as most Mind Healers, Minerva considered herself adept at reading body language, how else would she have survived a war, the Marauders and now the Weasley Twins?

Hands stuffed into pockets, confidence in his stance and that smirk. Severus is going to hate him even more. Reminiscent of James' well-known look after a prank gone well, though the boy looked more like a well-blended combination of both James and Lily, rather than just James as he had as a babe. The memories nearly brought a tear to her eyes. ( But she was made of sterner stuff. )

Realizing she was staring - and noticing the boy seemed pleased at the fact - Minerva straightened her back and nodded professionally, as was her wont. She wouldn't let past acquaintances blind her reputation of being part of the unbiased staff... it wasn't as fun to point such truths out when Severus wasn't there to glare and refute it.

"Yes. I am Professor McGonagall." She emphasized, knowing some Muggle-borns had a little trouble with the transition from Muggle titles and such. "And I also teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts."

Harry allowed the smirk to grow, knowing his teeth was unnerving and using it to his advantage. "I apologize Professor McGonagall." And if they were in school, the cheek alone would have lost ten points. "I'm afraid I understood the first part quite well, but Transfiguration. That is not part of it." Though phrased like a question, it was anything but.

"A little respect, Mr. Potter." She chastised before changing the subject. "This is a little uncomfortable, perhaps a change of venue?" Taking the nod of acquiescence for what it was, they began the short journey back to No. 4, both not missing the scuttling of adults and children as they passed.

No. 1 - 7 were hiding in their homes, Harry being the obvious reason as they stared at him with fear and panic.

"If I asked, would you tell me why these people seem so..." McGonagall waved a vague hand, motioning to the dissembled people.

Harry shrugged with an easy grace, a near angelic smile on his face, "Some people Professor, have so much to hide. It's a wonder why they don't simply... let it all out..." From then on, it was silent. That is, until they arrived back to No. 4.

"Frea-" The distasteful word was cut off as Petunia got an eyeful of who was with her good-for-nothing nephew. "Freak." Nostrils flaring, McGonagall loomed over the thin woman with the anger of a hungry lion.

"What was that Mrs. Dursley? Surely my hearing must be going bad to hear such things from a respectable woman such as yourself." When the giraffe opened her mouth to protest, she stopped abruptly when a lethal glare was fired at her. "Maybe you should lay down and rest good madam, before you fall."

Petunia both paled and colored, running back into the house - conveniently forgetting to close the door - and slammed the room to her bedroom shut. Calming herself, Minerva looked down quickly enough to catch a flash of respect come-and-go through Harry's eyes, before he stepped into the house and sat himself down on the couch without a sound.

"You had something to say, Professor?" There was no teasing - mocking or not - in his voice anymore and McGonagall found she liked it that way better than before. Long legs were crossed and a White Book - when had he taken that out? - was put back into place.

"Let's see, I came here -" She made herself comfortable and prepared herself for a long interrogation, something that Harry hadn't disappointed. Rapid fire questions came quickly, one after another - barely enough time for Minerva to answer them. The boy took mind games to another level as some questions circled around the main topic before zeroing back in in time to corner the wearying Professor.

It was a chore and a half but respect grew in Harry as he knew some people who wouldn't have lasted a second in his company. The fact that McGonagall was in her second hour and was dealing with his inquiries with admirable patience, he decided he wouldn't try and blackmail her, mostly because he didn't know enough about the word to do so.

"Who is taking me shopping...?"

"Myself or another teacher."

"There's the matter of money." Not how he was going to pay for schooling, but how much. At the moment, Harry had enough money to last two life-times and more.

"Your parents left you a trust."

There was silence. Then pointed ears perked and a nearly devious expression crossed Harry's face. "Oh really." From what he had garnered, the Potters weren't an Old Family in general, but there had been donations - from a helluva lot of people for his heroic deed - and then there was the interest the bank owed him for using said bank.

Hell, even if his trust only had a mere - galleon was it? - the interest would've tripled by now. From McGonagall, his parents were rich-ish - James being an auror and Lily a Master in both Charms and Potions - and the war going on, Harry was pretty sure they put more than a galleon in his vaults.

As dark eyes darkened at the thought of more money, Minerva was plenty sure she was making some kind of mistake by telling Harry about the trust set up for him.

Oh well, in for a knut out with a galleon.

"There is also the fact of your... celebrity status. At the moment, many people expect you to go to Hogwarts, I would like to ask if you would like to travel incognito throughout Diagon, or leave yourself at the mercy of millions of thankful fans."

The way she said it made the decision pretty clear.

"Tch. Fucking sneak."

Before he knew it, his mouth was filled with soup and Harry was spluttering bubbles from his suddenly filled orifice. Spitting rudely and vindictively hoping it got on the shitty teacher, Harry glared viciously with narrowed eyes and fangs bared.

"The hell was that for?"

"Watch your mouth."

"Do you do this to every new student you meet? Ignore all pleasantries and stuff soap down someone's throat without even a by-your-say. I thought you would have at least warned me, shitty teacher."

Once again, Harry found his mouth filled with soap.

"Language, and it's Professor."

"I see how this year is going to be Professor." Shitty Teacher.

"Blargh!"

"Thoughts count as well."

#-#

Diagon Alley.

Tell me who you would like to see go with Harry into Diagon Alley.

1). Any suggestions? I was thinking little Mark Evans.

Most of my chapters will be over 2,000 words.

R&R and tell me what you think.

Looking for a Beta. Please apply through PM and NOT REVIEW. I repeat. PM not REVIEW.