Oh shit – 56 – bloody right

.

James flops into a chaise lounge, waiting for Voldemort in a sitting room.

Tom takes a seat in an armchair opposite and leans over with his elbows on his knees. "I'm going to be honest with you, James -and I mean this without any offence- but someone needs to kill you before you grow into your full power and become a monster. I know this from personal experience, because the world would be a much better place if they'd actually succeeded in drowning me as a child when I was still too weak to fight back."

James hesitates and then laughs shakily, unsure if Tom is being serious. "Wow, okay. First of all, that's horrible in every possible way. Secondly, why are you saying this like I'm evil?"

"No one is ever evil," Tom murmurs, eyes dark. "Isn't that right, James? But how dare they try to say no to us. The fucking audacity, as if we aren't so much more than them. As if they can hold us back when we want something. When we deserve it."

Tom tilts his head, pastes on a sympathetic expression so exaggerated it's mocking. "All those fun, harmless little stories Harry told me? Mocking the teachers' authority, so loved the other students would let you get away with anything, a Potter so you don't need to bend the rules you just blatantly ignore them, murdering hundreds of sentient acromantula and laughing like it's so fucking funny - oh dear James, someone should kill you while they still have the chance."

A shocked laugh is startled out of James. He sits up on the lounge, a smile lingering on his lips. "What a way to twist it. Alright, my parents spoiled me rotten. Okay, I like to have a little fun. But I'm not gunning to be the next Dark Lord."

"And when they don't give you your dream job?" Tom insists. "When they deny your pet werewolf rights? When your Black friend gets into trouble with the law and you can't shrug it off with a laugh?"

James says nothing for a long moment, feels the way Tom watches him like he's an ant stumbling along carrying something too big.

James can't stop the smirk that rips open his mouth, shows his teeth. "Don't talk shit to me like I'm the only one with a personality problem. I know damn well what I do, Tom, but I'm just here to have fun. If I'm really so evil then everyone can just shut up and get out of my way, or someone could try to stop me - but good fucking luck getting past my possessive friends who are equally morally-bankrupt." He throws up his hands. "There! Are you happy now?"

Tom smiles, perfectly pleasant. "Oh dear James, I'm just glad we're on the same page."

…

Dumbledore is already waiting at the entrance to the castle when they apparate in and James puts on an innocently confused expression. Tom stayed back to finish the one-on-one Death Eater reports but was particularly amused when James left.

"Tom," Dumbledore greets easily enough.

"Wrong again," Voldemort corrects and looks behind Dumbledore. "Ah, and there he is."

Harry comes running out of the giant entrance doors, hair windswept and panting. He runs right past Dumbledore, half shoves Voldemort out of the way and grabs James' shoulders. "Are you okay? What happened? Everyone is just saying the professor was sent to hospital and I couldn't find you on the map!"

Peeking out of the doorway is a cluster of curious students, notably Remus and Sirius at the front.

Dumbledore begins to speak but stops himself. He sighs. "James, dare I ask what happened this evening?"

"Voldemort asked me to go over," James admits, hugging Harry to calm him down. "What happened? Which professor?"

Voldemort raises an eyebrow at Dumbledore. "Apparently Minerva is aware that the newest defence teacher disciplines students by caning them."

Harry sucks in a sharp breath in outrage, turning on Dumbledore. "Did you know?"

"I warned Mr. Haywill it was frowned upon," Dumbledore begins.

"Frowned upon!?" Harry snarls but stops when Voldemort holds up a calming hand.

"I don't disagree with the man's methods," Voldemort begins and has to put a restraining hand on Harry's shoulder when the teenager turns on Voldemort next. "In fact, I'm quite partial to corporal punishment. Of course, harming my children is a different matter. And I have no need to play nice."

"Pardon me, I haven't explained well," Dumbledore says politely but his face is serious. "If Mr. Haywill ever felt the need to go that far, he was to first clear it with a student's Head of House, myself, and then the child's parents. It was never a viable option in the first place because I do understand how times change and such methods are no longer accepted."

"So it was self-defence!" James chimes in, then slides behind Voldemort. "Or it would have been, if I was there."

Dumbledore isn't having it. "James, we need to have a conversation about your actions today. It caused great harm to a professor. If you felt unsafe, I would have hoped you'd go to your Head of House or myself."

And Harry just loses it. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Since when you have ever – this place isn't safe! You, the teachers, they do nothing! Dumbledore, get your shit together and stop hiring people who bloody hate children or can't teach a damn! Exorcise Binns already for the love of Merlin!"

Harry jabs a finger at Voldemort next. "And Voldemort, your curse on the defence position is the reason why we keep getting such garbage teachers! Who go around bloody torturing children with – with bloodquills or goddamned Triwizard Cups! Just admit you don't even like teaching children and take the fucking curse off, you petty asshole!"

There's a long pause as Harry gets stared at by a stunned Voldemort and Dumbledore.

"You know I'm bloody right," Harry snaps and grabs James, dragging him off back to castle so he can make sure James isn't hurt anywhere. As he passed Dumbledore he scowls at the man. "You come after James, and we'll see if I don't get you for all the other shit you've pulled."