CHAPTER 3: Out of the Shadows (Part 3)

Potions Classroom

September 11th, 1995

8:50 a.m.

The next morning, Harry walked into the Potions' classroom for his first class of the day. He was the first one there, having skipped breakfast at the Great Hall for half an hour of extra sleep after he stayed up late last night.

Harry had lingered with Michael for another half-hour before he escorted him back to the common room. He had made sure that the first-year looked as composed and convincingly calm as possible, and though it had taken a lot of time, he'd succeeded. After all, it wouldn't be smart for the kid to walk in wearing his emotions on his sleeve and making himself a target for the whole house.

Once he had made sure that Michael had made it safe to his dormitory, Harry had spent the rest of the night trying to figure out a way to take out Umbridge and remove her from the school as fast as possible.

It all turned out to be useless given everything he knew about the Senior Undersecretary. She had connections all over magical Britain, too many people owed her favours so trying to expose her would be basically impossible - and her job was rock solid, based on what Harry knew of teacher contracts, it was pretty much impossible to force one out until the year was completed. Not only that, but according to Malfoy, Umbridge had plenty of dirt on Fudge as well as other important ministry members that would make it impossible to get her fired from her ministry position. And even if he did manage to get her fired, Harry wasn't sure he could deal with the fallout that would follow when toad-face sought out revenge.

After hours of trying to find ways of kicking her out, he gave up and finally fell asleep around two in the morning. He certainly couldn't do it alone, much to his chagrin, and much to his displeasure he couldn't bring himself to not act against Umbridge, not after what he saw yesterday. So, here he was, willing to swallow his pride and ask Parkinson if she was still willing to work with him.

Harry took his place at the back of the classroom and waited for the place to fill in. He didn't have to wait long, the Gryffindor trio walked in and took their places on the opposite side of the room, completely ignoring him.

It seemed that Longbottom had become much more withdrawn and angry this year, he didn't talk to the other two anymore, and when he did, he was snapping at them. In turn, Weasley became grumpy and just sulked beside his friend, except for the times when Granger managed to convince him to side with her and talk sense to their friend, though that didn't last long given how the red-head would soon go back to brooding. Granger, being the most sensible of the bunch, would always try to help them, but she'd always get turned down and only become more infuriated with the two of them.

The perfect image of the trio was breaking for the whole school to see, and Harry could tell he wasn't the only one who was enjoying it.

Soon after they arrived, the rest of the Slytherins and Gryffindors filled out the room, with Pansy, Blaise, and Theo sitting in his table. Knowing that Snape would still take about five more minutes, Harry took his chance and leaned towards Parkinson.

"Can you talk?"

"I don't think so," she answered absently as she continued writing in the parchment. "I think I lost the ability to speak last night."

"Ha-ha."

"What do you want, Potter?"

"I want in."

"You want in?" Harry nodded. "Then talk to Goyle, he looks like the sort who would be a bouncer to a club after leaving Hogwarts."

"You know what I meant," He replied, unamused.

"I really don't."

Harry sighed, suppressing the urge to groan. "I want to work together and take down Umbridge."

Pansy stopped what she was doing and finally turned towards him. "Why the sudden change of heart?" She asked with suspicion.

"I can't stand the pink," Harry deadpanned.

"Bullshit."

"Bite me, Parkinson. Do you want my help or not?"

Pansy discreetly looked at the other Slytherin table before turning back to him. "You're too late, I'm working with Malfoy."

"Malfoy!?" He hissed.

"Yes!" She all but snarled at him. "You didn't really give me any choice, did you?"

"You know, I thought you had passed your Malfoy phase from third year, but you seem to be as enamoured with him as ever."

"Fuck off, Potter. I asked you to work with me, and you shit all over my idea! Just because you were going to sit by and let Umbridge do whatever she wanted doesn't mean I was going to."

"Fucking perfect," Harry muttered to himself.

"If you really want to do something, you can come back."

"And become Malfoy's lackey?" Harry scoffed. "Over my dead body."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged. "But this is happening with or without your help."

Harry groaned helplessly. He really needed their help, besides, Daphne's plan was a solid one, it would take out all the risk for himself. But he wouldn't go grovelling back to Malfoy.

Before he could say anything else, Pansy and Daphne stood up, almost simultaneously, and walked to Longbottom's table. Harry turned to Draco, who winked at him before looking back at the show that was going down in front of them.

"What do you two want?" Neville growled at the two Slytherins.

"Awww, it's kinda cute how you think we came here for you, isn't it, Pansy?"

"The cutest. You're not the centre of attention, Fatbottom, no matter how much you want to be."

"Piss off," Ron spat.

"After you, weasel." Pansy replied sweetly.

"We're here to talk with the Mudblood, so you two idiots can sit down."

As soon as Daphne said the magic word, the whole Gryffindor side of the classroom exploded. Brown and Patil gasped loudly, Finnegan had to hold Thomas back from pulling out his wand and attacking Pansy and Daphne, and Weasley and Longbottom immediately launched themselves at the two girls, while Granger stared defiantly at them.

"How dare you!"

"You're going to pay for that!"

Harry saw from the corner of his eye that Malfoy was about to make a move towards the Gryffindors, but he decided to beat him to it - springing out of his stool and calmly walking towards them.

"Are you really going to attack a girl, Longbottom? Have you no manners."

"She insulted my friend!"

"I don't give a shit if she insulted the queen of England, you're not attacking one of my housemates, so put down your wands. Now."

Longbottom glared at him with a murderous passion. Harry could tell that he was having a hard time, he seemed as if he had barely slept at all, and it was obvious his new status as the Wizarding World's most hated individual was starting to slowly break him. He also spotted that the Gryffindor was using his left hand and hidden his right - any other day he would've smirked at the clear sign of Umbridge's torture, but not anymore.

Daphne and Pansy, who were stuck in the middle, deftly moved to the side and hovered right about Weasley's bag.

"This is none of your business, Potter," he spat his name as if it was shit in his mouth - training his wand higher in the air.

"True," Harry conceded. "But then again, I'd be insane if I miss the chance to humiliate the saviour of the wizarding world."

In a fit of rage, Longbottom jabbed his wand at his neck. "Try me."

Harry scoffed, completely unfazed. "Arseholes try, I just do."

The words had barely left his mouth before he went into action. The clear and present danger was Longbottom, not only did he have the experience through many of his fabled adventures and the Triwizard Tournament, but he was also heralded as the best dueller in his year - which would've been true if Harry hadn't been tanking his own performance to keep his cover - but he also had his wand jabbed into his neck. Weasley was barely an issue, but he wanted to completely humiliate Longbottom, so taking out the redhead first would be optimal.

Trusting that Neville had no experience in wordless magic, he used his arm to forcefully struck against the Gryffindor's elbow pit, almost managing to disarm him completely from the sheer shock. With Longbottom indisposed for a couple seconds, Harry trained his wand at a petrified Weasley.

"Stupefy!"

Harry made sure that the spell was as weak as possible, he didn't really want to hurt the redhead. However, it still had enough force to throw him a few feet backwards, and when Harry realised what was going to happen, he cast a small cushioning charm on the floor below, where his unconscious body fell.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted, immediately kneeling beside him in the most dramatic fashion Harry had seen.

"Two on one," he remarked at Longbottom, ignoring as all the Gryffindors needlessly huddled around Weasley and the shocked silence of the Slytherins. "Next time, bring more guys, will you? This is just way too easy."

Neville's cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were almost feral. "Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Incarcerous!"

Harry easily side-stepped the first spell before blocking the other two, making sure to use loud incantions while doing it.

"Using the big boy spells, are we now? I'm almost flattered."

Longbottom howled in fury and cast another two jinxes at him, which he flawlessly dodged, looking more as if he was dancing than evading. Wanting to have some fun, he cast a tripping hex at him. The Gryffindor fell face first, and the Slytherins began laughing.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked mockingly. "My bad, that was a little hard. I gotta say, I'm really disappointed in you, Longbottom, I expected you to be way better at this thing. I'm- honestly, I'm stunned."

"Stupe-"

He stopped him with a quick silencing charm. "What? Sorry, I can't hear you, you're gonna have to speak up."

Roars of laughter filled the room, and Harry could see that even some Gryffindors, like Seamus and Lavender, were amused by his actions. Longbottom began trying to cast the counter-curse on himself, but was unable to do so, given how he didn't know anything about non-verbal casting. It looked like Granger was about to go and help him, but was stopped before she could.

"What is going on here?" Snape's voice was cold and low, and yet, it was easily heard even with how loud the classroom was. At once, all the Slytherins stopped laughing and the Gryffindors scatter to their seats, hoping to reduce the point-loss everyone knew was coming.

"Longbottom and Weasley tried to attack us, Professor." Daphne spoke, a hint of glee hidden beneath the sweetness of her voice.

"That's a lie!"

"They didn't do anything wrong!"

"They called Hermione a mudblood!"

"Silence!" Snape hissed, quieting the classroom completely. "Patil! Thomas! Granger! Five points from Gryffindor each, one more interruption, and I'll double it."

Once everyone had settled down, Snape turned back to Greengrass.

"Potter came to our defence, and when he did, the two of them tried to attack him, but Potter defended himself, easily beating them."

Snape arched an eyebrow at him. "Easily, did we?"

Professor Snape had an intense hatred towards him since the first day at Hogwarts. He was the only Slytherin that didn't receive that patented Snape bias and barely got As in his classroom, without needing to tone down his performance. Harry could feel a sarcastic remark forming in his head, but shook it off and opted to not say anything instead.

"Is this true?" The potions master asked the rest of the Slytherins, receiving an outstanding "Yes!" from everyone. Longbottom was about to say something, but Granger elbowed him to shut him down.

"Very well," Snape drawled, clearly conflicted. "Longbottom, Weasley, twenty points from Gryffindor each for starting a fight with your peers." The Professor turned directly to him, his eyes analysing him as if he were a complicated potion. "Potter, ten points from Slytherin for participating in a fight rather than calling a teacher."

Harry bit down his complaint. "Yes, sir."

"Professor," Granger spoke. "Ron is unconscious."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go take him to the infirmary!" He barked and Hermione nodded, levitating the redhead and leaving the dungeons, but not before giving Harry an incredibly pointed glare as she passed by him.

"The rest of you, back to your seats! There are to be no more distractions during this class."

Longbottom didn't even look at him as he sulked back to his seat, but he did share a glance with Parkinson and Greengrass, one that promised a talk as soon as the class was over.

Snape was a special kind of asshole for the following two hours, not just to Longbottom and Granger, but to him as well. It seemed that the ten points he removed from him weren't enough to quench his daily ire against him, and he decided to satisfy it by having him constantly re-do his potion over and over again and giving him a Dreadful for the day.

Harry had taken everything with stride, though at times it was harder than he expected. He'd mastered his impassive mask in Snape's class, though it looked more like a passionate glare since he didn't have a bright resting face. In a way, it was one of the most useful things he'd gotten from that class, as it had been essential to build his image inside the house. But even with all the practice he'd gained from the class, there were times today when he wanted to make one small remark, even if Snape didn't hear it - but he ended up refraining himself from doing so.

It was what Snape wanted, and he wasn't going to fall for it like Longbottom did - who lost another twenty points for getting into an argument with him. Subtlety was never one of the Gryffindor's strong suits, and especially not now when he was increasingly aggressive and rash. He was never like this, not even last year when the whole school turned against him for the tournament, but it seemed that after whatever happened in the third task, it began the downward spiral Longbottom was currently in and which Harry was sure would end up with a massive explosion.

After Potions, the Slytherins had a period of Charms with the Hufflepuffs, where the only eventful thing to happen was at the beginning of the class when the badgers all but interrogated them about what had happened in the dungeons with Longbottom, Weasley, and himself. Harry had always been amazed of how fast the secrets spread around the school, and this was no exception - it was honestly a wonder he'd managed to keep the Room of Requirement as secret as he had.

He had to admit, seeing the Slytherins almost gushing about the duel to the Hufflepuffs was extremely satisfying for him, as he sat back and listened to everything without saying a word about the event. He'd occasionally nod or smile, but when asked a direct question, he wouldn't answer.

For the first time in his life, Harry felt as if he was finally being recognized for something, and he was becoming intoxicated by the mere feeling. There was no way he would ever go back now that he'd experienced something as amazing as this.

The following class, a period of Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws, had been a demonstration of just how fast rumours spread around Hogwarts. And while the Claws were much more subdued with their praises, they were still intoxicating.

When class ended, Harry stayed back and stalled by asking a few questions to Professor McGonagall. He needed to talk to the other Slytherins, and he couldn't chance arriving first and them having sit elsewhere, so he'd have to arrive a bit later and confront them. He'd tried various times to talk to them, but Parkinson and Greengrass had skilfully avoided him and only smiled cheekily at him.

It was a good thing he did, because, just like he expected, the Slytherins were huddled around in their usual seats rather than on his own like yesterday. Harry walked confidently, unable to ignore all the whispers that had begun when he stepped into the Great Hall, and took his place in between Parkinson and Nott.

"Alright," he began, interrupting the current conversation. "What was that?"

"This is a private meeting, Potter, so beat it."

"Private my arse, Malfoy."

"Don't make kick you out of here," the blond warned.

"You must be joking," Harry laughed. "You just saw me kick both Longbottom's and Weasley's arse without breaking a sweat. Trust me when I tell you, I think I'd enjoy kicking yours as much as theirs."

"Maybe you could beat me on a one on one duel-"

"Maybe?" Theo laughed.

"But I have a little thing that you don't called friends."

"Who? Dumber and Even Dumber?" Blaise began chocking on his water from nearly laughing after Harry said this. "Please, if you're going to threaten me, at least make it believable. Now, if Malfoy doesn't mind, I'm taking over this meeting."

"I bloody mind, Pott-"

Harry shut him up with a silencing charm.

"You know, you should really consider learning non-verbal castings, I mean, this is just getting too easy." Harry said offhandedly as Malfoy tried and failed to speak, much to everyone else's amusement, who enjoyed not helping him with the counter-curse. "Anyone else wanna learn the value of wordless magic?"

When no one said anything, Harry turned towards Parkinson expectantly, who was shooting him a small grin.

"Well, you remember how we were looking for a way to listen in to the conversations of the trio?" Daphne continued at Harry's nod. "Well, Malfoy and Greengrass spent all of last night looking for something that would basically act as a live beacon that would transfer the sounds from an object to another."

"A microphone," Blaise added, earning a scowl from Daphne at the mention of a muggle concept.

"And you found it?" Harry asked.

"Yep," Daphne confirmed. "It wasn't a spell, more like a small ritual involving a few runes engraved on two objects."

"Which is why you needed the distraction."

"Exactly." Parkinson confirmed. "The plan was for Malfoy to cause a fight and give us a few minutes to engrave the runes into Weasley's bag, but you ended up doing an even better job than we could have even imagined."

"Why Weasley's?"

"Because no one would think of someone tagging Weasley," Blaise answered. "Longbottom's stuff is the obvious target, and Granger would notice something wrong. But no one would think of Weasley, and he would only notice there's something wrong when he finds it stored in his attic in like thirty years or something."

"Smart, but that would make things harder since the bug is on Weasley rather than Longbottom."

"True, but when have you ever seen the two of them apart?" Nott asked.

"Touché."

"Besides, the three of them constantly have their bags with them. It would only be on the weekends when we wouldn't be able to listen in on them, but still, five out of seven days ain't bad."

"Nice work, you guys." Harry told them, genuinely impressed.

"Wait, did I just hear correctly?"

"I heard it too."

"Potter just complimented us." Pansy grinned.

"And it's the last one you're ever getting." Harry scowled. "Where's the receiver?"

"The what?"

"The object that lets us hear in on them."

"Oh, I have it." Daphne stated.

"Give it to me."

Greengrass immediately went on the defensive, withdrawing herself only slightly, but big enough for him to notice. The others in the group were also hesitant, and Malfoy was almost ballistic - though no one could hear what he was shouting. The only person who seemed to have his back was Parkinson, who was actually smirking.

"Look, I want to help, and I think I just showed in the Potions' classroom that I'm not half-bad. But if I'm going to do this, I'm not just going to be some lackey for Malfoy."

"So what? We're going to be your lackeys now?" Daphne asked stiffly.

"Yeah, no, I don't do clingy. If I'm doing this, I'm doing my part on my own, and logically, it makes more sense for me to be the one who listens in on the conversations between them."

"How so?"

"Well, for once, I don't waste my time with things like friends and other stuff like you guys do. Nott has a ton of Quidditch stuff, Blaise is constantly talking with the first person he sees, Malfoy is more prone to lose this thing than the snitch, Parkinson is also constantly busy, and you are constantly studying and focusing on your grades. I have a ton of free time, free time that I would gladly use to listen in on the trio."

"He does make a good point," Blaise said after a few moments of silence.

"I'm not trying to take over the group, if you guys want to lick Malfoy's boots, hey, that's your decision. All I want is to take out Umbridge, after that you won't hear from me again, and you can go back to being the heads of the year or whatever you call yourselves."

"I agree with Potter," Parkinson spoke up. "I think he's the logical choice for this."

Harry knew that he already had Zabini and Parkinson in the bag, Nott was almost confirmed, he could tell, the only problem was Daphne, and Draco - but he was ignoring him since he didn't have a voice at the moment.

"Fine," Daphne finally said, incredibly reluctantly. "But you'll give us daily updates on what they say. And you're giving this back as soon as we're done with Umbridge."

"Deal," Harry quickly said, already thinking of ways of replicating the ritual.

Greengrass sighed before reaching into her bag and handing him a Remembrall. Harry twirled it around his hand, spotting the runes that had been inscribed there by the Slytherin. "Smart." He said before putting it in his bag and standing up to leave.

"You can stay, if you want." Blaise proposed.

Harry turned around, a sense of longing rising from his stomach to his chest as he stared at the table.

"Like I said, I don't do clingy."

After he left the Great Hall, having had lunch alone, Harry took a quick trip to the infirmary before continuing his classes for the day. He focused on finishing the essays that had been requested of him for the DADA class. But as much as he tried, finding time to work on something else during Ancient Runes was as impossible as staying awake during a Binns lecture. Still, he managed to finish three essays across the entre day, which wasn't half-bad given how today he had been paired up with the three most strict teachers in the castle.

After that, he had settled in the Room of Requirement, where he worked on the other thirteen essays that he had to write before next Monday - and these were only the ones that he had been asked to do in the last twenty-four hours.

He finished another four essays, which were becoming increasingly easy and boring at the same time - you could only repeat the same thing over and over again in different words before going insane. To regain some of his will to live, he sparred against the room for about an hour before going back to the Great Hall for dinner.

During the whole day, Harry had constantly kept the Remembrall as close as possible, and even listening in on moments like in the middle of the Transfiguration lecture. Unfortunately, spying on the trio wasn't as exciting as he thought it would be - sure, he had a blast at listening in on the various conversations the trio had about him, and with how pissed off Neville was, Harry wouldn't be surprised if the Gryffindor tried anything impulsive in the coming days. But it was mostly Granger trying to control Longbottom and her talking about homework, which he had already done or already knew how to do easily. Unfortunately for Harry, he had the bright idea of listening in on them during lunch, and was assaulted by the sounds of what he assumed was a pig managing to make human-like sounds while having his mouth filled with food.

Still, uncomfortable experience aside, he was sure something fun would come up soon, and he'd be there ready to listen to it.

It was at nine thirty sharp when he left the almost empty Great Hall and began taking his usual route towards the dungeons. However, he walked past it and took the stairs upwards towards the second floor. Finding a spot on the ground, Harry sat down there and waited, his mind busy planning his day for tomorrow considering how many essays he had to finish, the amount of homework he had, the schedule for the day, how much training he wanted to do, and more.

He spent about ten minutes waiting before he finally heard a door open and close. He stood up just in time for Michael to turn the corner into his hallway. The kid looked confused, shocked, and almost relieved all at the same time.

Harry stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to say, before he reached into his bag and tossed a small cannister at the kid.

"Murtlap," he explained. "It will help with the cuts and bruises, and make sure it doesn't scar. Sit."

Harry sat beside the kid as he inspected the container.

"Do you need help putting it on?"

"N-no, I can d-do it."

"What did I tell you yesterday?" Harry asked, cleaning up the kid's face.

"N-never let them s-see you crying. B-But, it's h-hard."

"I know," Harry said softly. "We'll work on it."

Michael began to slowly rub the yellow salve on his right hand, whimpering as he did so. The two stayed there in quiet for a while, before Michael spoke up.

"W-why are you here?"

"I promised, didn't I?"