Paint the Pages Black

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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."

#-#

Three Days Later

Minerva McGonagall knew she was out-beat when a harried messenger owl - tail feathers smoldering - crash landed in front of her during a staff meeting. Really, it was all very dramatic - the owl had flung itself through the open window, falling to the ground and letting out a weak croak-like sound.

With a near silent sigh and a headache already brewing between her eyes, she summoned the letter and banished the owl to the Hospital Wing, holding a hand to her face in pure exasperation.

"Were you expecting something Minerva?" Albus sat there with a twinkle in his eyes and light curiosity in his voice, wanting to know what happened to the owl more than the actual contents in the letter. He had a feeling there was quite a story to that and he did love stories. But it didn't seem like the right time to ask about the owl as Minerva was looking a bit vexed.

"It's from a student," She grumbled, dreading reading the letter. She grimaced as she read the sender's name, knowing she was going to regret volunteering to deliver Harry's letter personally instead of sending Hagrid like Albus had suggested.

With a reluctant grimace, Minerva unfolded the letter and took a moment to admire the devil's handwriting - perfect calligraphy, all smooth lines and graceful curves - before finally scanning the short missive.

Shitty Teacher,

You're taking me to this Diagonally place or I'm bringing my toys with me to that shitty school.

Potter

McGonagall twitched once, then twice, torn between irritation and... actually irritation was playing a fine role in how she was feeling.

Severus, of course, took this time to add to her annoyance and - from his darkened little corner - sneered with hidden amusement in his eyes. "From one of your little Gryffindors? Finnigan perhaps, the owl's tail feathers were still smoldering."

The Transfiguration Mistress sneered right back, "Finnigan could still be a Slytherin. He hasn't been arrested yet." The boy would have to have some snake qualities to him if he wasn't sent to that - what was that Muggle name - Juvenile Home. The thought of that place made her think too much of Harry, but the look of horror on Severus' made up for the reminder.

"It's not from Finnigan, nor from an irate parent..." Here she paused, not sure how to continue her sentence. "It's from... Harry Potter." The reactions to her words were a bit too predictable.

Pomona just tilted her head to the side, curious but not extremely so. She wasn't exactly all that close to the Marauders or Lily, so her questions probably centered on how the boy-who-lived was doing rather than Harry Potter personally.

Filius, on the other hand, literally perked up - ears sharpening and glasses slipping down his nose. "Harry Potter?" Affection in his voice, the diminutive Professor had trouble keeping the warm smile from his lips. It was given though considering Lily was thinking about a Charms Mastery, so obviously her and Filius were very close. Mentor and Apprentice. It was a shame that Lily hadn't the time - nor luxury - to finish.

The woman was a prodigy and would have probably surpassed himself in due time, unfortunately life had decided to take her early on.

And then there was Severus. There needed no other words for the dour Professor. "Harry Potter," Unlike Filius - with his fond memories of Lily - the only thing that was going through Severus' mind was the torment the boy's father and friends had put him through. Spat through venomous teeth, Severus had no trouble showing exactly what he felt.

"And just why is your precious boy-who-lived writing to you?" A contemplative gleam entered the man's eyes then and Minerva had to withhold a shudder. Severus had been a spy and just because the war was over, didn't mean the other's perception had lessened. But that didn't stop the mocking tone he had taken. "Harry Potter having trouble, too hard for a coddled savior?"

Minerva had to hide a grimace. Harry Potter and coddled did not belong in the same sentence, at all. In fact, any and all terms synonymous with coddled, chivalry or recklessness did not have anything to do with Harry. Actually, it really wouldn't surprise her if Harry was placed in Slytherin.

Giving the man a narrowed-eye stare, that he returned with equal vigor - no longer the same withdrawn first year she remembered - Minerva allowed an uncharacteristic smirk to curve her lips, enjoying the look of surprise that briefly flashed across his face. "Harry will have no trouble, no trouble at all in Hogwarts." Her words only earned a sneer from Severus, no doubt thinking the boy spoiled and idiotic.

And Minerva would have tried to defend the boy if the boy had any need for a defender. Maybe a guardian, someone to steer Harry off his... troubling past - though doubtful.

But that wasn't the case here. Harry wasn't stupid. He wasn't spoiled either. It wasn't at all hard to understand. Harry Potter will have no trouble in Hogwarts (or anywhere else for that matter), but that didn't mean he wouldn't cause it because Merlin have mercy on the poor souls who gained the spiky-haired boy's ire.

The rest of the meeting consisted of Minerva dodging slyly around Albus' inquiries of the boy.

"Fucking Shorty." Born in St. Augustine's, room #43. Age Eight. Male. 3'6" weighing 87 lbs. Eye color is blue and hair color was brown but faded to blonde. Has a Mother and Father, both of whom are in his WEBB for infidelity. Only child. Special Skills. Infiltration and Acting.

"H-h-he-her-" (Here.)

Harry glared darkly at the blonde-haired kid, green eyes poisonous. "What have I told you about fucking stuttering, fucking shorty."

Mark Evans grimaced, looking down at his feet while the other two 'slaves' traded sympathetic looks filled with relief. "N-Not t-to." Their tormentor's hand twitched and all three flinched, thinking he was going for his guns, only for him to flick Mark in the head.

"Yet you're still fucking doing it." Screw it, he moved on and ignored the tearful blonde as he rubbed his head.

"Fucking Tomboy." Born in Queen's Medical room #32 and left on the porch of a local Orphanage. Adopted Age Two. Currently Age Sixteen. Female. 5'8" weighing 140 lbs. Eye color grey and hair color black. Adopted Parents are both in WEBB due to wild partying during college days including some nudes he found off the internet. Adopted Sibling, Female. Special Skills. Strength and Agility. Intimidation. Julie Roberts.

"Here."

"Shitty Man-whore." Born in California State Hospital room #444. Age Eighteen. Male. 6'1" weighing 190 lbs. Eye color brown and hair color black, dyed dark blue. Mother and Father, currently not included in WEBB (but will be soon) has a younger brother who is in the WEBB for cheating on Math Exam. Special Skills. Seduction and Information Gathering. Arsen Hawkins.

"... here." He didn't really seem to appreciate Harry's name for him. But, it was Arsen's own fault, he was a known playboy, one who had a different girl every day of the week. Which is why he was here. Arsen spread himself a little too thin and got a little careless, so let's just say, Arsen had a lot of secrets he was hiding from his parents.

Mark and Julie on the other hand. They worshiped the ground he walked on. Harry smirked. It was a beautiful thing, blackmail. But true loyalty lied in those who did things of their of free-will. And for the fucking shorty and shitty tomboy to be here, without fear or use of excessive exhortation, well - it made Harry cackle. Loudly.

The fucking shorty admired his attitude and perseverance. The boy was a genius (already through with elementary and well on his way through Secondary) and was extremely shy. But, he was sneaky which is why Harry allowed the fucking shorty to follow him around without shooting the midget.

Julie, on the hand, admired his strength and cunning. She followed him because she owed him a debt (that he didn't care to collect) and liked to think of herself as some kind of modern day knight. She swore fealty to Harry and has served him faithfully for the past two years.

Arsen is just here because he needed a third and since Arsen started with an 'A', the man-whore was in the front of his WEBB. Laziness had the teen blackmailed and in front of him in less than an hour. (Worth admiring because the man-whore lived a two hour drive away).

"For the next three months, I won't be in the fucking neighborhood." A green-eyed stare stopped all three from questioning his words. "I will be in another school -" There was a shudder all around, hopefully, the school will still be standing when he's done with it. "- and when I get back..." Harry trailed off and Julie picked up from there.

"We will down rebellion and keep Order in your territory."

Mark shivered and kept his head down, eyes flicking upwards. "... gather information and make sure none passes our eyes."

"Do I really have to say it?

Harry grinned sharply, uzi aimed at Arsen's feet. "Yes." And pulled the trigger, enjoying the sound of the shitty man-whore's screams. "Kekeke."

"Shit, shit! Just stop, okay, okay!" Bent over and panting, Arsen thanked God Harry wasn't in a more playful sort of mood. He would have been dancing around the bullets for at least twenty minutes before the Demon got bored. "I'll fucking say it!" A kick in the ass tipped him over, and recovering, Arsen blanched as he was pinned down with a green-eyed stare.

"You don't get to fucking swear in my presence, filthy man-whore. Now get to it." Scrambling up and not looking at all like his usual, charming self, the self-proclaimed Master of Love nodded rapidly and stuttered through his speech, "Seduce the women with all my skills and intimidate the masses with my beauty." without even a wince at the arrogance in his words.

Harry chuckled, enjoying the teen's embarrassment and grinned a sharp-toothed smile that set the three on edge. "Now, this little beauty - " A slight of hand and Harry was holding a white booklet filled to the brim with papers, easily seen photos and alphabetically labeled tabs sticking out from the sides. " - is my life's work." A lie, Harry wouldn't keep something that valuable out with him. But they didn't know that. "It will go to the fucking tomboy, to the second-in-command, the shitty midget, then lastly, the filthy man-whore."

For a moment, all three looked almost touched that Harry was trusting them with something so important, until his next few words, "You lose it, you lose a fucking limb, clear?"

"Yes!" There were three rapid nods followed by screams when Harry shot at them with his uzi, chasing them down the street for daring to shout at him. But it was all in good fun as none of them was actually shot and Harry wasn't aiming to kill.

Next Chapter: Diagon Alley.

Any questions? Review and ask, constructive criticism, review and tell. Just review and tell me how you felt.

Lady Slippers: The next chapter should be out later on in the month.