History Repeats Itself

Chapter 2: Fallen From Grace

The moon is half full, its silver light illuminating the ground before him as he made his way to the Forbidden Forest. He made sure to keep to the shadows, flitting between them so as not to be seen. It wouldn't do to be caught at this early stage in the game. Harry skirted around Hagrid's hut, not wanting to wake up Fang. Once he disappeared under the eaves of the forest, he halted. His skin was crawling, the many denizens of the forest driving his senses crazy.

The forest probably had its on fair share of vampires but he had bigger problems to deal with at the moment. They would have to wait. Giles had owled him with some disturbing news, apparently there was a new demon terrorising London. Also said demon was insane and had a rather nasty opinion towards Giles so the watcher had asked him to take care of it. Harry hadn't really minded, he might not have been the slayer for long but he had some serious magic on his side. Willow and Tara had taught him well in the art of Wicca and he'd found he had a considerable talent for it. Not to mention the fact that Giles had taught him advanced wand magic, dark and light.

Giles had gone to school at Hogwarts as well, he'd been a Gryffindor but the Sorting Hat had also told him he was a borderline Ravenclaw. Not exactly surprising, considering the man's obsession with his books. Suffice it to say, that Giles had been a bit of a teenage tearaway and had discovered plenty about the darker aspects of Hogwarts castle. He'd let slip the fact that the anti-apparition wards were weakest in the Forbidden Forest due to the fact that nobody wanted to go in there to strengthen them. Harry was powerful enough to get passed the remainder and apparate out. It was his favourite method of travelling, since flooing made him sick and using a portkey brought back too many bad memories so he'd been extremely happy when Giles had shown him how to do it and not get caught by the Ministry.

According to the other man, few of the old pureblood wizarding families waited until their children turned eleven to teach them magic, especially the ones who delved in the Dark Arts. They had come up with several spells to mask their magical signatures so those idiots at the Ministry of Magic couldn't trace them. Harry had picked them up very quickly and hadn't looked back since.

So that was how he was able to apparate to London without the headmaster knowing. He reappeared in a dark alley near to a well-known demon haunt. Well-known to him anyway. He stalked through the doors, slamming them into the wall and causing all activity inside the bar to come to a screeching halt. Glaring at any demon who dared to take a step towards him, he strode over to the bar and folded his arms on the counter. "Where's Drusilla?" he snarled. The human behind the counter reminded him a bit too much of Willy the snitch back in Sunnydale so he didn't feel any remorse whatsoever about scaring the living daylights out of him. When several moments passed without an answer, he decided to try a different tactic.

Lightning quick, he reached out and grabbed the bartender's collar, hauling him up, over and across the counter until he was staring directly into Harry's scowling face. "I'm going to ask once more and then I'm going to get testy. Where. Is. Drusilla?"

The bartender decided that this new guy was not making an idle threat, "I don't know. She shows up sometimes but she doesn't make much sense! I swear I don't know where she is!"

Seeing that he was useless, Harry dropped him onto the floor without warning and turned to face the rest of the occupants. "Now, I wonder if you guys have any information."

It wasn't a request. Waving his hand, he wandlessly cast a spell to see if they had any idea where the crazy vamp was. He was in luck and one demon had known where she was staying. He debated whether to use a memory charm or not but eventually thought no. It would be better to have a reputation here for the next time he needed something.

Without giving them a second glance, he walked back out through the doors. Dodging back into the alley, he disapparated.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He found her feeding on a young man outside a nightclub. The information that he had extracted from the demon told him that she had been on the payroll of some LA law firm but had gone on a little killing spree that had strained the relations between them. She had come to England after Angel had kicked her out of LA. Her victim was already dead from blood loss so no point trying to save him. Instead he stepped out in front of her, letting her sense his presence.

She looked up from her meal, still in game face and with fresh blood dripping from her fangs. Her already distorted features smirked, "The kitten has come out to play!" she exclaimed gleefully, dropping the body onto the ground.

Harry watched her warily; he had been warned of her madness and her visions. He knew she had hypnotised a slayer and killed her without mercy. Her insanity wasn't so much a hindrance as a help to her. He had cast a proximity spell to alert him to any attacks from behind so that he could concentrate on her. This was after all, the first Master vampire he had faced. Of course, sparring with Buffy had probably given him an advantage, considering how many elite vamps and demons she had killed.

He remained motionless as she stalked around him, circling him with unnatural delight. "The stars sing to me," she said, lilting voice taking on a childlike tone, "they say a slayer stands before me. A little lamb trying to be the big bad wolf."

She lunged at him and he found himself trying to block a flurry of blows. He jumped up and got her in the head with a roundhouse kick, following it up with a punch to her unprotected jaw as her head snapped back. She gave as good as she got and a well-timed punch had him seeing stars from a moment. He jumped back to avoid her claw-like nails, definitely not wanting his throat slashed.

He whipped out a stake and threw it at her with unerring accuracy. Unfortunately for him, she moved out of the way and it embedded itself into her shoulder. She cried out, yellow eyes lit with fury. "Nasty little slayer!" she hissed, "I've seen you, locked in such a pretty dance, your screams making such lovely music..." she trailed off as he lashed out with a forceful kick, sending her reeling backwards.

"Silly boy!" she growled, shoving him backwards, "You make the stars wail and the voices shriek! The kitten cannot hide forever! It doesn't have its claws yet!"

"Stop calling me kitten!" he snarled, dropping low to the ground and kicking his legs out, sweeping her feet out from under her. Before she could recover, he slammed a stake through her heart. She looked down at it for a moment, shocked before turning to dust.

He stood up, shaking the lingering dirt off his clothes. He had hardly understood a word she had said but she had still managed to annoy him. Kitten indeed! Still, it was an accomplishment, around one hundred and fifty years old; childe of Angelus, Scourge of Europe and her bloodline was that of the Order of Aurelius. His first master vamp, he had proved himself at last.

Even if Giles hadn't asked him to do it, he probably still would have gone after her. Giles and Buffy had done a lot for him, telling him about his calling, explaining it to him and training him. Plus there was the fact that they'd taken him from the Dursleys. That alone would have earned them his unwavering gratitude.

Still, Buffy was the best. There was no denying it and his goal was to become as good as her. There was also the fact that he had Voldemort after him and every thing that he could do to make himself stronger he would do. It was a matter of survival.

Giles had refused to allow a watcher loyal to the Council train him and had instead contacted Wesley, who had been recently fired from Angel Investigations. Giles had then placed him on a plane to Sunnydale and the rest was history.

He glanced at his watch, three a.m. Lovely. That gave left him with less than five hours sleep. It looked like he'd need plenty of caffeine in the morning. He picked up the discarded stake, stuffed it in his pocket and apparated back to the Forbidden Forest. He used a secret passage to gain entrance to the castle and crept back to Gryffindor Tower. He summoned his Invisibility cloak from his room and pulled it over him. He whispered the password to the Fat Lady, who demanded to know who was there but let him in after a few seconds.

He kept the cloak on until he slipped into his room. Taking out his wand, he placed several complicated locking and warding charms on the door. He shrugged out of his clothes, placing them back in his trunk and climbed into his bed, adjusting the covers and shutting the curtains. Placing his head on the soft pillow and snuggling into the duvet, he gave in to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Across the ocean, in LA, the newly soulless Angelus fell to his knees as Drusilla turned to dust several thousand miles away. When the stabbing pain had passed, he rose to his feet, near visible waves of rage pulsing off him. Someone had killed his childe, his masterpiece. That someone was going to die. Buffy was just going to have to wait.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning Hermione woke up early and crept into the sixth year boys' dorm. Ron was still staying there since he hadn't been made a prefect like Harry and Hermione had. Walking over to his bed on tiptoes, she cast a silencing charm and then opened the curtains, hoping to God that he was dressed. He was tangled up in the blankets, gangly arms and legs spread out across the bed. Reaching down, she firmly shook his shoulder, "Ron! Wake up!"

He didn't stir. She repeated her actions but he only mumbled something indecipherable and rolled over. Sighing in frustration, she did the only thing that could guarantee Ron would wake up some time in the next decade. "Ronald Weasley!" she exclaimed in her best Molly Weasley impression, "How dare you get expelled! When I get my hands on you..."

Ron sat up in abrupt shock, "What?! Mum?!" he yelled, still half-asleep, making Hermione grateful that she'd used a silencing charm.

"No Ron," she said calmly, a faint hint of amusement colouring her voice, "I just came to wake you up."

"Wake me up?! It's only seven o' clock! Are you mad woman?!"

"Ron, listen to me. We need to see Professor Dumbledore this morning."

"Dumbledore?"

"Something's wrong with Harry. I think You-Know-Who did something to him. The headmaster needs to know!"

Ron's temper flared as he thought of Harry's treatment of them, "You're right 'Mione."

His face reddened and he looked away, "Um, could you go away while I get dressed?" he asked.

Hermione blinked, taken aback, and then realised that he was only wearing pyjama bottoms. "Oh! Of course! I'll wait for you in the common room!"

She was gazing into the ever-blazing fire when he came down, chin propped up by her hand. "Mione?" he called, "Are you alright?"

She turned to look at him, sparing him a small smile, "Yes, I just don't know what to think about Harry anymore. He's acting worse than Malfoy!"

He crossed over to her, placed a hand on her shoulder, "I know Mione, but Dumbledore will fix whatever's wrong with him and everything will go back to normal."

"I hope you're right Ron."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They stood in front of the stone gargoyle for ten minutes, trying to guess the password before it opened. Dashing up the moving stairs, they knocked on the door to the headmaster's office and were relieved when a voice called, "Enter!"

As always, they were fascinated by the many interesting and strange objects that lay scattered around the room. On his perch, Fawkes looked at them and then returned to preening at his new feathers. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, dressed in vibrant robes as usual and blue eyes sparkling with their customary twinkle. "Well, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, what can I do for you?" He gestured for them to sit down and they complied, sliding nervously into the chairs.

"It's about Harry, Professor," Hermione blurted out, "he's acting like a completely different person. He actually called me a Mudblood!"

Ron hurried to back her up, "It's true Professor, he insulted me as well. He blew us off yesterday after the feast and made it clear he wasn't our friend anymore, called us a bunch of losers and all!"

"Could it be You-Know-Who Professor? A spell of some sort? Harry's never ever acted this way before."

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, folding his hands on his lap and looking at them very seriously over his half-moon glasses. "This is most disturbing. You say he's changed? How so?"

"Well Professor," Hermione began, "his looks for one. Before he never used to care and now he dresses like a male model. The Dursleys would never allow him to wear stuff like that! And..."

"An interest in fashion is generally normal for teenagers Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted, "surely you do not take offence over that!"

"But that's not all Professor!" she cried, leaning forward in her chair, "He started learning the Dark Arts last year and he never told us! He never replied to any of the owls we sent him and he refused to come to the Burrow over the summer! He doesn't want to talk to anyone, he just wants to spend all of his time on his own and he didn't look for us on the train or on the platform, plus he didn't sit with us at the feast even though we had kept him a seat! And he started insulting us just because we were concerned about him! He's acting worse than Malfoy!"

"I see. Anything more to add Mr Weasley?"

"No Professor, just what 'Mione said."

"Thank you for informing me of this. I shall keep an eye on him and see if anything needs to be done. In the meantime, maybe you should try and talk to him again. It may have just been a mood swing or something of the like."

"Thank you Headmaster," they chorused as they stood up.

"I'm just so worried." Hermione said fretfully.

"I'm sure things will return to normal soon Miss Granger. I expect he'll apologise for his hurtful remarks once he's calmed down." They both felt some relief at that, if Dumbledore said it would be alright then it would be.

He ushered them outside of his office and shut the door behind them. Reclaiming his seat, he steepled his hands together, thinking about this new problem. Harry Potter would become a force to be reckoned with. It was a fact. Still, the changes that the boy's friends spoke about worried him. The boy was already too similar to Tom Riddle for his liking, he couldn't allow him to cross to Voldemort's side or any side but his own. He had spent years cultivating the boy, making sure that he was loyal to him and now it seemed that his careful manipulations were being undone. Worrying, but it could still be fixed. But if the boy found out what he hid from him... the consequences would be disastrous. If worst came to worst, then the threat would just have to be eliminated. Potter would not be allowed to mess with his plans, and he was too powerful to let loose.

There was still time though, maybe Sirius could help? He would contact him and see if the boy had told him anything. But as for now, it was time for breakfast and as headmaster, he had to make an appearance.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry awoke to the shrill sound of his enchanted alarm clock. Reaching out a hand, he batted it into the wall but it kept on shrieking. Sitting up, he raised his wand and cursed the thing into oblivion. Tossing back the covers, he staggered out of bed and immediately conjured up a cup of coffee. As he sipped at the warm liquid, he mentally thanked whoever had discovered the merits of caffeine. It was an essential part of his diet, incredibly useful after so many late nights. Even with a slayer's constitution, he did get tired.

Sadly for him, it wasn't served at any of the house tables, being reserved for the teachers at the head table. So he had to get his fix of it before he went down for breakfast. Banishing the empty cup, he pulled some robes out of his trunk and yanked them over his head. He didn't bother to wear the proper school uniform underneath the heavy material, instead opting for his standard black polo neck and black jeans. He dared them to try and reprimand him over it. He put on the shiny silver prefect badge reluctantly; hating it but appreciating the authoritive power it gave him.

Making sure that he had his wand and that his weapons were safely hidden on various parts of his person, he strolled into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he was infinitely grateful that he'd gotten rid of his glasses and his old haircut. Before his hair would have sticking up all over the place, resembling someone who had been electrocuted but now it was shorter and spiked up towards the front. His liquid green eyes were no longer hidden behind his NHS style frames and now were one of his most prominent features. They were slightly slanted, brightly glittering with a calculating sheen. Those eyes had stared down quite a few vamps.

A year or two ago, he would have been horrified to compare himself to Tom Riddle but now he couldn't deny the resemblance. Especially with his new bad boy attitude. Then again, the similarities had to stop somewhere and there was no way in hell that Harry wanted to look like a snake. Voldemort was welcome to his new looks, not that anyone else would actually want them.

He wondered if Voldemort would try anything again this year. He had a feeling that his new calling would come as quite a surprise to the self-proclaimed Dark Lord. Unfortunately, he knew that magically he had a lot of catching up to do. Riddle had been immersed in the Dark Arts for over fifty years; Harry had only been studying them for a little over a year. Even if he did have a natural talent for it, he still needed to know more. He figured that if given the chance, he could prove himself stronger than either Dumbledore or Voldemort was. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to have a back up wand. He made a mental note to make a trip to Ollivander's as soon as possible.

Grabbing his backpack, he threw in the books he'd need as well as a couple of rolls of parchment, a few quills and some ink. Snatching a spare piece of parchment, he picked up a self-inking quill and scribbled a quick note to Wesley about his success with Drusilla. He'd give it to Hedwig in a few minutes.

Swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he exited his room and walked into the crowded common room. Ignoring the people calling his name, he stepped out through the portrait hole and headed for the owlery.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~~*~*~*

Hedwig was pleased to see her master, swooping down to meet him and affectionately nipping his ear. "Nice to see you too girl." Harry said, smiling warmly and ruffling her feathers.

He took the letter from his pocket and tied it to her outstretched leg, "Take this to Wesley for me girl?" he asked. She nipped his finger in response and flew off through the grounds of Hogwarts. He stood there for ten minutes, looking at the view before his stomach grumbled and he headed towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~

He ignored the stares and the whispers that followed in his wake as he strolled to the Gryffindor table. Plunking himself down at the end of the table - as far away from Ron and Hermione as he could get - he began to eat heartily. Someone slid noisily into the seat beside him and he glared at them as his hearing tripled the volume, giving him yet another headache. His annoyance grew as he found himself staring at a camera lens, the flash went off, momentarily blinding him and when his vision recovered he found Colin Creevey smiling happily at him, babbling on about something or another. He groaned inwardly, what had he done to deserve this?

Harry was just reaching the stage where he was considering snapping Colin's neck when Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. Harry had never been so grateful to the old coot before, somehow he didn't think the Ministry would see extreme annoyance as a plausible excuse for murdering a fellow student.

"We have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year. Sadly he was unable to make the start of term feast so it falls to me to introduce him this morning. May I introduce you to Professor Rayne. I hope you will treat him with the proper respect and that there will not be a repeat performance of last year."

The students clapped because they were expected to, minds wandering back to last year's DADA professor. He had been useless, a complete wimp who stuttered worse than Professor Quirrell. His classes had been a joke and some of the Slytherins - and a few from other houses - had started sending curses his way in class. Dumbledore hadn't been pleased to say the least.

Harry hadn't liked the man, the professor had believed every word that the Daily Prophet had printed about the supposedly mentally disturbed Boy-Who-Lived and had been terrified of him. The Slytherins may have been amused but Harry sure as hell hadn't been.

At the present moment, he had a feeling that he was going to hate this years teacher a lot more than the previous ones. Because sitting at the Head Table, trademark smirk on his face sat Ethan Rayne, Dark Arts and chaos magic practitioner, suspected Death Eater and Giles' old schoolmate. He had convinced Giles to help him raise the demon Eyghon, who had ended up killing everybody in their little circle of friends except them two. Since Giles had become Buffy's watcher, Ethan had been a thorn in his side, and a rather dangerous nuisance. Harry had heard tales of the stunts that Ethan had pulled and he wasn't very eager to find out exactly what he had planned for his time at Hogwarts. He was much more interested in what he was doing here in the first place.

Watching the man carefully, he resolved that he and Ethan Rayne were going to have a little... chat in the near future. Harry was not going to tolerate any of his antics here at Hogwarts, especially not when he was a potential target. On the other hand, the rogue spellcaster was last seen being dragged away by the American military to be placed in some special containment facility. How in Merlin's name had he gotten out?

There were a ton of questions that had to be answered. He wondered if he could convince Dobby to let him slip some Veritaserum into Rayne's food. Nah, he thought after a second, Dobby might let something slip to Dumbledore. It would be better for all involved if he just did it himself. He had a bottle or two in his trunk that would be suitable. He'd have to owl Giles when Hedwig got back, he was sure to be interested in this little development. He couldn't use any of the school owls because they could be tracked. Hedwig had several spells on her that made tracing her movements impossible.

His eyes locked with Professor Rayne's and the man shot him an obnoxious smirk. Harry gave him his own version in reply. Ethan Rayne was going down.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

McGonagall came round and passed out their schedules. Harry took his wordlessly, immediately scanning the contents. He swore when he saw what they had first - double potions - and they were still with the Slytherins!

He grabbed his bag from under the table and grumpily headed to the Dungeons and to yet another year of Snape insulting him. What a bloody perfect start to the day! Not.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~**~*~*~*~

He slid into a seat at the back, making sure to avoid the table where he, Ron and Hermione usually occupied. Parvati and Lavender scuttled by him as quickly as possible. They had been avoiding him ever since Trelawney had predicted that 'great evil would possess him' last year. Of course, that prediction had coincided quite neatly with one of Rita Skeeter's traditionally rubbish articles. The two girls were convinced that he was the spawn of Satan or something along that line. Idiots.

Nobody took the seats next to him, not that he really cared, he preferred to be alone. He calmly took out his cauldron and set it up, seemingly not paying any attention to the chatter around him. That was wrong, he heard every whisper in the room, every scuffle of feet and even the sound of gentle breathing. He heard the soft echo of Snape's footsteps approaching the classroom and was the only one not surprised when he made his abrupt entrance.

Slamming the door open with such force that it slammed into the wall, Professor Snape stormed into the classroom, black robes billowing and swirling around him as he turned to face the class. It was an interesting effect, Harry decided, intimidating. He quickly looked away as Snape's dark gaze swept over the class, his normal sneer firmly in place. "It seems that I have the displeasure of teaching you once again. Maybe this year, all you dunderheads will manage to not blow up a cauldron each time you set foot into my classroom." His gaze pinned Neville to his seat, making him blush and squirm nervously, ducking his head downwards, no doubt recalling his many mishaps over the years.

"Today you will be making a moderate healing potion. It is on page 136 in your books. Snap to it!" he barked, sitting down behind his desk.

Harry didn't bother opening his book, he had made this potion several times over the summer for the bruises, cuts and wounds that a slayer tended to acquire. He could probably make it in his sleep at this stage. Gathering the ingredients, he settled into a comfortable routine of chopping, measuring and stirring, his hands moving on autopilot.

Severus picked up a stack of parchment and began working on his lesson plans for next week. He managed to keep his concentration for about ten minutes before he gave in to the urge to look at Harry. He was methodically brewing the potion and doing it perfectly. This didn't surprise Severus as much as it would have during the previous years. He knew that Harry was coming into his own, finally putting some effort into his work instead of skating by without bothering to study at all.

Realising he was staring, his cheeks became tinged with a faint pink colour, as close to blushing as he ever came. He was very lucky that Harry hadn't picked up on it; he was obviously still new to his calling. Severus knew that anybody trying to observe Harry in about a year's time would have caught the boy's attention.

Standing up, he began to prowl around the classroom, breathing down the necks of the Gryffindors, taking enjoyment out of the fact that they got increasingly nervous the longer he hovered over them. They then made mistakes for which he deducted as many points as possible. The Slytherins were a different story altogether, they received only compliments and praise. It wasn't just a matter of house loyalty; he risked blowing his cover as a spy if he didn't show that he despised the Gryffindors and the Boy-Who-Lived and it was not like he could afford to offend or displease the Death Eater's children, their parents would only make him pay for it at a later date.

Harry worked diligently, feeling a sense of satisfaction as the potion turned the correct light blue colour. He began ladling them into some vials, no use in letting a perfectly good medicine go to waste. His concentration was shattered when Snape took up a position only a few feet away from him. Normally that wouldn't bother him but his senses seemed to be trying to tell him something.

Knowing that they wouldn't leave him alone until he found the reason for them acting up, he let them loose to explore as they willed. They focused on the form of his professor and Harry was genuinely surprised by what he found. It seemed that Professor Snape really did have some skeletons in his closet. And here he had been, dismissing Ron's idea that Snape was a vampire of some sort. He thought about what a kick Ron would get out of some sort of confirmation before he remembered that he wasn't friends with him anymore.

His mood took a downturn but he soon gave himself a mental shake. He was the slayer goddamn it! He didn't need anyone but himself! And he definitely didn't need a jealous, hard-headed weasel following him around! Feeling slightly better, he turned his attention back to Snape. There was something odd about the slimy git, and not just the fact that his hair needed a good wash and that he was in dire need of a personality transplant.

No, this was odd as in supernaturally odd. The man may not have been a vampire like the school gossips liked to speculate but he was most assuredly not entirely human either. Deciding to investigate further, he gathered his magic and reached out towards Snape with an invisible spidery tendril. Tara had taught him how to do this wonderfully useful piece of magic. She was quite good with aura manipulation and had taken it upon herself to show him how to do it due to the fact that it would come in handy at Hogwarts. It worked like this, he reached out to whatever person with his own magic. His magic would then show him the person's aura and he'd have to figure it out from there.

It was nearly undetectable so the chances of Snape realising what he was doing were very slim. The tendril made contact and within seconds the Potions Master was lit up like a Christmas tree - visible only to Harry of course. It was a fascinating array of colours, black mist radiated from the professor's Dark Mark with green and silver being the predominant colours. Fitting for the head of Slytherin House. What were somewhat surprising were the crimson coils that wrapped themselves around Snape's body. Harry wasn't sure what they meant, he'd never seen that particular shade before now and Tara had never mentioned it. Definitely something to research.

He resolved to keep his eye on Snape. He might not know what was up but he was most assuredly going to find out!

Stopping at the back wall nearest to the door, Severus leaned back against it, arms folded across his chest, onyx orbs keeping watch on the students. He gave up trying not to think about Harry, it seemed that even his own mind was plotting against him. He was worried for the dark-haired Gryffindor, knowing what was going to happen to him but not being able to tell him about it was killing him. Even worse was the knowledge that when Harry came back, he would have no idea what to expect from the slayer. Harry would definitely be upset, that wasn't a question but it was how Harry would deal with the inevitable anger that had his stomach in knots. The way he saw it was either Harry was going to lose his temper completely or he was going to act like a Slytherin and get a calculated revenge. Neither scenario was very pleasant to contemplate. Then again, the rest of the students' reactions, as well as the faculty's - Dumbledore's especially - to Harry's reappearance would probably prove to be vastly amusing.

Would Harry be mad at him for not saying anything? Would he even want to see him? To give him a chance to explain? One thing he knew about Harry was that he didn't take betrayal well. A slayer couldn't afford to give people second chances. Severus hoped that Harry would forgive him; he didn't think he could handle it if it were otherwise. Even now he found it difficult to reconcile the Harry in his classroom today with the Harry he had grown to known and.... Oh dear Merlin, he was brooding. And wallowing in self-recriminations no less! He glanced at his watch, class was nearly over and Longbottom hadn't blown up anything. This must be a new record. Or maybe it was just because Longbottom was only reading from the book while know-it-all Granger did all the work. He smirked; did she really think he wouldn't notice? If he hadn't been so lost in thought he would have caught it almost immediately. As he stalked over to their table, he absently noted that Harry's potion was perfect.

"Granger! Longbottom!" he sneered, drawing the attention of the whole class, "Doing his work for him now Granger? Perhaps you'll start dressing him next? Twenty points from Gryffindor for cheating!"

"But Professor!" Hermione exclaimed.

"A further ten points for Miss Granger's insubordination," Severus sneered and the Slytherins snickered softly. The bell rang, signalling the period was over.

"Class dismissed!" he snapped, watching them as they hurriedly packed their things and fled the classroom. He allowed himself the indulgence of watching Harry's retreating form before turning back to his lesson plans with a sigh.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

Harry tried to continue on to his next class - Transfiguration - but was blocked by the combined efforts of Ron and Hermione. He nearly groaned in irritation. What did they want now?

"We need to talk." Hermione said firmly. It wasn't like he had much of a choice, considering that each of them had quite a strong grip on both of his arms. He could have broken free of their hold but that would only raise suspicions and he really didn't want that.

"Really? I thought that I made myself perfectly clear yesterday."

"We know you didn't mean it Harry. It's ok, we'll accept your apology." Ron said.

"My apology?! Are you insane or just deaf? I am not your friend; I don't want to speak with you and I most certainly won't apologise for simply stating the facts."

They both looked dumbstruck, Hermione the ever logical recovered first, "Harry, is this something to do with You-Know-Who? Did he do something to you? is that why you're acting like this?" she asked slowly, almost as if she was speaking to a frightened child.

He jerked out of their grip, straightening his robes and glaring at them. "Ok, now I am just convinced you are idiots. And I thought you were supposed to be smart Mudblood?" he said mockingly, "I am not under any spell. I am doing this of my own free will. Call it a late coming to my senses. I don't know what I ever saw in you two. Come off it, did Voldemort," he said, emphasizing the name, "ever do something to me?! How about trying to kill me, what is it, four... five times now?"

Ron started to say something, advancing on Harry, his six foot four inch frame towering over Harry's but the dark-haired wizard held up a hand and told him to shut up. "Get lost. Run back to your mommies or whatever, just leave me alone. Now, I have a class to go to. Don't bother me again," he finished darkly. Leaving them staring after him, he stormed off in the direction of McGonagall's classroom; ignoring the guilt he felt over the pain he was causing them.

*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hedwig flew in through a window in Wesley's apartment. She landed on the desk beside the man and held out the leg that had the letter attached to it. Wesley untied the roll of parchment, "Thanks Hedwig. There's some water over there if you want some," he offered, gesturing to the bowl that Wesley's owl Spooky used. He had chosen that name on a whim, thinking that it was fitting for an owl living on the Hellmouth. Hedwig hooted gratefully and went over to partake of some well-deserved sustenance.

Wesley was quite pleased that Hedwig had come when she did, he had some news for Harry and he could send it back with his owl now. Unrolling the parchment, he read it over.

Wes,

Per Giles' request, Drusilla is now dust. And nobody was exaggerating her insanity; she kept calling me 'kitten' of all things! Not bad for my first master eh? I found her in London and staked her last night. I figured you'd want to put it in your Watcher's Journal or something. Oh, you'll never guess who's the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year! None other than Ethan Rayne! I've already decided to have a little meeting with him as soon as I can. I've heard too much about his exploits to let him run around Hogwarts! That poor excuse for a human being will be scared witless by the time I'm done with him. Hopefully. There's no other news to tell, besides the fact that my potions professor thinks I'm up to something and Ron and Hermione think I've gone cracked because I told them that I don't want to be their friend anymore! Don't worry though; I'll deal with them. They're not going to find out anything. Keep me posted on the situation in good ol' Sunnyhell.

'Til next time,

Harry.

Wesley dropped bonelessly into a nearby chair, "Oh dear lord," he breathed, "he's the one Angelus is looking for!" Scrabbling through the mess he liked to call his desk, he found a piece of paper and a pen and jotted down a warning for the rookie slayer. Giving it to Hedwig he shooed her out of his apartment, hoping that Harry hadn't gotten himself in over his head this time. It really wouldn't look good on his record if two slayers got themselves killed while under his watch. Plus, he was actually quite fond of the boy and he truly didn't want Angelus to get his hands on him.

That blasted brooding vampire couldn't just keep his pants on! Noooooo, that would be a little too much to ask. If he wasn't so afraid of having his neck snapped, he might just tell him that. Allowing for the fact that he valued his life, he could only trust that Harry would deal with him with the time came. Either that or he'd just have to send Buffy after him. It would probably be quite a spectacle when Angelus met up with his ex-girlfriend. Wesley wasn't sure if she'd stake him or get Harry to soul him again. Whatever way it went down, it would most likely be something for the history books. He wondered if he could get it on camera, people would pay to see that showdown. It was something to think about at least.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Transfiguration went surprisingly well. McGonagall was overjoyed that Harry had finally begun to take after his father when it came to her class. He effortlessly changed his desk into a full-grown tiger and back again and per McGonagall's request, he performed a host of other spells, earning Gryffindor house fifty points.

Seeing that he had already mastered what she had planned to spend the next three months doing, she took him aside and gave him some advanced textbooks, telling him to study them and that until further notice he had a free class for this period.

Harry was extremely pleased about this, he planned to become an animagus and having time to practice when his housemates would be in class suited his needs down to the ground. He didn't know what form he would take but there was a potion he could brew to find out. He'd have to do that tonight so he could get started on it.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*

After Transfiguration came History of Magic which was mind numbingly boring as usual. Taking a leaf out of Hermione's book, he decided to use the time for working instead of sleeping. Binns wouldn't notice and wouldn't care what he did so Harry chose to begin reading the books that Wesley had acquired for him.

They were positively ancient, written in Parseltongue so he didn't have to worry about anyone recognising his new reading material. They were rumoured to have once belonged to Slytherin himself and Harry didn't doubt it. Tiny emeralds and diamonds depicted his personal crest - a silver and green snake - on the covers. Harry was careful to enchant the books so that they looked like a History of Magic textbook.

There were five volumes in total, each cataloguing a different stage of research in Slytherin's life. What had fascinated Harry was the in depth study of the Killing Curse. That was what had initially made him look for the volumes, considering his own experience with the curse. An added bonus though, was the fact that Voldemort had achieved his brand of immortality through using these books. If there was any way to kill the Dark Lord it was written on these pages.

Harry knew that Voldemort would want them back and so for safety, he shrank them and kept them inside a locket that he wore around his neck. It never came off. Ever. It had been his mother's; he had found it in Gringotts and had worn it faithfully ever since.

Poring over the magically preserved pages, he quickly found himself completely engrossed in the subject matter. Slytherin's theories were incredible, so complex that they probably would have stumped Hermione but Harry had no problem with them. He also found himself agreeing with many of Slytherin's ideas and principles and strangely enough there was no mention of his infamous hatred of Muggles and Muggle-borns anywhere in the text. In fact, the only mention came of them at all came in the first chapter, where he stated his wariness about their unpredictable attitude towards magic and magic wielders. Loving it one minute and hating it the next. He warned any wizard or witch to be extremely careful when dealing with them and to hide their magic as much as possible. Reasonable suggestions, Harry thought, he wondered what had made Slytherin hate muggles so much by the time he had founded the school.

He nearly missed the bell, but the loud droning noise caught his attention and he quickly packed up his stuff, making sure to ignore Ron and Hermione when leaving. Rumours of their fights had run rampant at lunch, earning them curious looks and ruining his appetite. The fact that most of the school seemed to be siding with Ron and Hermione didn't really help much either.

He put up with it though; he had grown used to the student populace turning their backs on him when he did something 'unsaviour-like'. His second and fourth years, along with the end of last year were prime examples of that. He used a spell to dump his school things in his room until later. He had an appointment with a professor.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He found the new DADA professor in his classroom, looking over a book on demons. Demons that Harry recognised and demons and were not on the Hogwarts curriculum. He padded into the room, feet not making a sound and unexpectedly slammed his hands down on the desk. Ethan looked up in shock, staring at him and quickly taking in the famous lightning bolt scar. "Mr Potter," he said smoothly, "may I enquire as to what you are doing here?"

Harry used his wand to lock the door and to cast an anti eavesdropping spell. "I'm just here on business Professor, or maybe I should call you Ethan like your old friend Ripper?"

The other man's face paled, "Ripper? What on earth are you blathering about?" he said, trying to bluff his way through.

"Oh don't play dumb with me, Buffy and Giles told me all about you and if you think I'm going to tolerate your brand of chaos on my turf, you've got another thing coming."

"I hardly think an underage wizard is going to do anything about it. I could leave your house in negative points and have you in detention until you graduate."

"You could, but you won't." Harry said cheerfully, "And you won't be teaching about demons anymore," he continued, taking the book from Ethan and pocketing it for another time, "the Wizarding world is not supposed to know about them and you know it. I'm also curious about how you escaped from the Americans. Last I heard you were being locked up in some facility by a secret division of the American army. Called the Initiative I believe? I wonder would they be interested in knowing your current location?"

With an impossibly quick movement, he had Ethan by the collar and slammed him up against the wall, pinning him there. "You see, you have a bad reputation with slayers and I'm not going to put up with you messing around with my calling."

His words finally registered in Ethan's mind, "You're a slayer?" He received a nod in the affirmative. "Impossible! Slayers are girls!" he cried.

"I guess I'm the first of my kind." Harry said agreeably, he applied a little pressure to Ethan's neck, cutting off his air supply. "Now listen up and listen good 'cause I'm not going to repeat myself. If I even think for the smallest moment that you are up to no good, I am going to get very angry and you don't want to see me angry. Trust me on that point. I will hurt you so bad that you will be in St Mungos for a year, or else six feet under, it depends on where the mood takes me I suppose. Do you understand Rayne?" he snarled, applying a little more pressure on the man's neck. Ethan spluttered, nodding his head furiously.

Harry let go of him and he dropped to the ground unceremoniously, clutching at his bruised throat and glaring daggers at Harry.

"None of that now," Harry said, wagging his finger at the fallen wizard, "you don't want to try my patience now, do you?"

Harry casually unlocked the door, pausing before pushing it open, "Ethan? A suggestion - get a new job for next year. I really don't want to have to put up with you for any longer than I have to. You might want to expect a visit from Ripper while you're at it. I heard your last escapade in Sunnydale made him a teensy weenie bit mad. See ya round," he smirked as he exited the classroom, leaving a shaking, stunned and more than a little bit baffled Ethan Rayne lying on the floor.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~

Hedwig was waiting for him when he got back to Gryffindor Tower, wings drooping in exhaustion; she obviously hadn't had much of a rest at Wesley's. Gently untying the letter, he picked her up and placed her on one of the armchairs. He unfolded the paper, easily recognising Wesley's familiar scrawl.

Harry,

Trouble is heading your way. Angelus has returned - Angel slept with Lila this time, the bloody idiot! - and he's more than a little mad that you killed Drusilla. Suffice it to say that he spent a considerable amount of time and energy driving her insane and is now out for revenge against her killer, which would be you. Don't try and take him on in a purely physical fight - he's not known for playing fair. Use magic to dust him the minute you see him! If you can't handle it, send me an owl so I can get Buffy over there.

Congratulations on your first master. It's nice to know that all your training paid off! As for Ethan Rayne, the man is an utter menace. Impossible to keep in line. Try and get him fired as soon as possible or even better, get him to resign! Keep in touch and be alert! Angelus is not someone to be taken lightly!

Wesley.

Harry groaned as he read the letter. Just what he needed, another thing out for his blood! Best not to worry about it now though, there were other things he could be doing with his time. As Quidditch captain this year, he had to get the team in shape for the cup this year. Luckily, he had had the foresight to put together a reserve team last year so he didn't have any places that needed filling. He'd lost the bulk of his team, Fred, George, Angelina, Katie and Alicia had all graduated last year. He quickly drew up a sheet with the practice times on it. He had gone to Madame Hooch that morning and booked the pitch. He'd have loved to see Malfoy's face when he realised who had beaten him to get the best practice times!

Taking the parchment with him, he went to put it up in the common room.

~*~*~*~**~~**~*~*~*~*~**~~

The Gryffindor common room was the same as usual, loud, cheerful and packed with people. Harry quickly stuck the poster to the notice board with some spellotape and turned around to go back to his room when he bumped into someone. Said someone was Colin Creevey. He couldn't believe the little twerp was following him again!

"Harry! I was looking for you, I was wondering if I could take photographs of the Quidditch team at their practices?" Harry gaped at the hyperactive fifth year; take photographs of their practices. They may as well just let the Slytherins in on all their strategies!

"No Colin!" he exclaimed, "No pictures! It would be Christmas time for the Slytherins if they got their hands on them!"

Colin looked crushed but Harry wasn't going to budge on this one. He was making to leave when Ron spoke up, "You don't have to be so mean to him, you know. You're not the all perfect Harry Potter."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped, his temper wearing thin.

"It means that not everybody has to bow down before you!" Ron said, still angry about Harry's brush off of him and Hermione. "You're not some sort of god!"

"I never said I was Weasel. So I would advise you to shut up before I do it for you!"

By now the entire common room had gone silent, watching the fight. Ron's temper was legendary, he definitely lived up to the term 'fiery redhead' but Harry had a lot of power at his disposal as well as Dark Magic.

"What? You're going to use the Dark Arts again? Perhaps the Unforgivables this time?" Ron sneered, "After all, you want to show your lord that you're a good little Death Eater don't you?"

Harry felt his control wavering under an overwhelming wave of fury, how dare he say that he served that snake! "Take that back Weasel," he demanded, raising his wand until it was aimed directly at Ron.

The other boy took out his wand as well, confident in the fact that Harry wouldn't try anything in front of half of Gryffindor House. "Why should I? You're a Parselmouth, you killed Cedric Diggory and you serve Voldemort. Why should I do anything you say?"

Gasps were heard throughout the room, it was one thing to whisper behind his back but for someone to say it to his face... and one of his best friends no less, the rumours had to be true! Everyone unconsciously backed away from Harry, believing everything Ron said. Hermione stood to the side, near Ron, silently supporting him.

Harry may have broken it off with his friends but their betrayal still cut deep. He, the slayer work for Voldemort?! Not in a million years! They should know that! "I have never, am not and will never serve Voldemort," he snarled, emerald eyes starting to glow with repressed power. Hermione's eyes widened and she stepped back but Ron was far too stubborn - or too stupid. He couldn't decide which.

"Like I believe that! The way you're acting this year and what you did last year is proof enough! Hell, you're probably glad Voldemort killed your parents! Probably even thanked him for it!"

Harry advanced on his taller ex-friend, moving like a dangerous panther. "You do realise that the only thing keeping me from seriously cursing you is respect for your parents?" he said softly, but with an underlying tone of steel.

"Don't talk about my parents!" Ron shouted.

"Then don't insult mine!"

"At least I have parents! Unlike you, you murdering ba..." Ron never got a chance to finish his sentence as every single breakable thing in the common room exploded, shards of glass and pottery flying everywhere. The other Gryffindors screamed and tried to avoid the sharp debris. The only one unaffected was Harry himself, who was shaking with rage, blood pounding through his temples and clouding his vision.

Ron suddenly realised that he might have gone too far but it was too late to take it back now. He had forgotten Harry's... extreme reactions to anyone who insulted his long dead parents. "Consider yourself warned Weasel." Harry sneered, "Keep out of my way and don't you ever, ever talk to me like that again!"

Ron nodded dumbly, wondering who the green-eyed demon before him was. Harry had never been like this before and Ron had known him since first year on the train! The dark-haired wizard stalked out of the room, wanting to get out of there before McGonagall showed up and chewed him out.

Silence was the only thing he heard from behind him.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~~*

Later that night, Harry snuck out of the tower under his invisibility cloak and headed for the library. Mrs Norris spotted him but didn't come near him, apparently deciding that he was a bit too much like a predator for her tastes. Not that he was complaining. He crept into the Restricted Section and began hunting for the books he needed.

He found the one with the Animagus potion - the ever useful copy of Most Potente Potions - quickly enough though it took him a bit longer to find any books concerning Salazar Slytherin's research but eventually he realised that they wouldn't be in the library if they're were any others. They'd most likely be in the Chamber of Secrets. He'd have to check it out when he had some free time.

He did however find a few books on Dark curses and hexes that he found interesting. Waving his wand and muttering a few words, he made a few blank books appear on the shelves to mask the fact that he'd taken some of them. Shrinking the ones he'd taken he placed them in his pocket and went back to Gryffindor Tower, careful to avoid Filch and any teacher who was prowling about. McGonagall had yelled at him and Ron after she found out about their fight and she'd taken sixty points from Gryffindor.

She'd looked at him strangely when she heard about the accidental magic he'd performed and they had left her office to her muttering things about 'idiotic boys' and 'juvenile behaviour'. He hadn't talked with anyone since than and he didn't have any intention of doing so. Ever since the fight, even the Gryffindors were glaring at him and calling him a murderer. Never to his face of course, they had learned from Ron's mistake.

He flopped onto his bed, planning on going to sleep instead of patrolling. He didn't want to act suspiciously so soon after terrifying his housemates. Kicking off his shoes and throwing his robe onto the floor, he got under the covers and looked forward to a good night's sleep.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

The next morning silence greeted them as he entered the Great Hall. Plopping into his seat, he ignored the resumed chatter, hearing his name being mentioned all too often. It seemed that the news of the incident in the Gryffindor common room had spread like wildfire, with Ron being hailed as the hero of the encounter.

Of course, Ron who had always sought the limelight was lapping it up. Proudly recounting his tale for those who had not been present and embellishing it for the story's - and his ego's - sake. Harry irritably munched on his toast, debating various methods of revenge. Perhaps he could just give Ron to Angelus, which would get rid of two problems because they'd end up killing each other or committing suicide. He shot down that idea before he got too attached to it, and decided to just buckle down to his schoolwork until the gossip died down.

~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*

As soon as he left the hall, Draco Malfoy and his two goons cornered him. Harry was sooo not in the mood to deal with Ferret-boy and Dumb and Dumber at this time. He'd be too prone to killing them. "So Potty, gone dark have we? Not the Gryffindor's Golden Boy anymore?" he mocked.

"Not today Malfoy." Harry muttered, turning to walk away.

"I don't think so Pothead," Malfoy said, stepping into his path and blocking his way out. Harry had had enough; he refused to deal with him now. Raising his wand, he flicked it and where Draco Malfoy once stood was now a ferret, who began bouncing from the floor to the ceiling with another swish of Harry's wand. Two quick stunning curses took down Crabbe and Goyle and he looked at them for a moment, a sadistic smirk spreading across his lips. After a minute of enjoying his handiwork - he did think he had done a better job than the Fake Mad-Eye Moody had in his fourth year - and carelessly stepped over the hulking forms of the two stunned Slytherins and headed to Herbology, leaving them there for entertainment's sake.

~*~**~*~*~*~***~*~*~**~*~*~*

Draco Malfoy was sulking in the Slytherin common room; he couldn't believe what that blasted Potter had done to him! He was a Malfoy for goodness sake! It just wasn't done! Of course, he took a perverse sense of amusement in the malicious gossip surrounding the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him; Perfect Potter was getting what he deserved though the very idea of Pothead as the new Dark Lord was too ludicrous to even contemplate!

A sudden burning pain in his left arm left him gasping for air, muscles screaming with the pain. Rushing to his dormitory he hastily donned his Death Eater robes and mask before grabbing the portkey that was disguised as his watch and said the activation word, "Morsmordre."

He felt a tug at his navel and then he was spinning. He crash-landed outside Riddle House, his feet falling out from under him. His father was waiting for him and looked at him in disgust for falling. "Come," he snapped, "our Lord wants to see you."

Draco followed behind his swiftly moving father and soon he had entered Lord Voldemort's throne room. "Malfoy," he hissed, "your son has news for me?" Red serpentine eyes glared at him, telling him that he had damn well better have something to report.

"Yes my Lord." Lucius murmured, bowing and pushing Draco forward. Draco knelt down and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes as he was expected to.

"My Lord," he began, submissively keeping his eyes on the ground, "Potter has changed over the summer. His powers seem increased and he is no longer friends with Weasley and the Mudblood Granger. He has the school frightened of him already; they believe that he serves you my Lord. He is isolating himself and the teachers seem to be keeping an eye on him."

"Hmmm, most interesting," Voldemort hissed, fingers tapping softly on his chair made of black marble.

"Perhaps he can be brought over to our side. He is alone, friendless and the Ministry will use any excuse to put him in Azkaban."

"My Lord, he publicly declared that he would never serve you in the Gryffindor common room. They say that he was quite angry at the very suggestion."

"I see. Leave Malfoy, go back to Hogwarts before Dumbledore realises you are gone."

"Yes my Lord," he said, bowing as he left. Lucius followed him at Voldemort's command. The Dark Lord was in need of some time alone himself. He waved his hand and a piece of parchment appeared in front of him. The same piece of parchment that had strengthened his decision to go after the Potters.

The prophecy written on it went back nearly two decades, given by a gifted seer. It told of the Dark Lord's downfall. He had hastened to prevent it and instead he had caused it to come true. The irony was not lost on him.

Still, Potter, according to Malfoy and the many rumours floating about, was coming into his own. That could be a good thing or a very bad thing. Harry Potter would make an excellent ally but a fearsome enemy. He would just have to convince the boy that the road to true power lay with him. Through any means necessary.

~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In a secret room just off the headmaster's personal chambers, a group of people gathered. They were dressed in red and gold robes and a phoenix statue stood in the middle of the large table. There were about two dozen people there, including Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Mundungus Fletcher, Mad-Eye Moody - the real one - and Arabella Figg. Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat, calling them to order, "I have called this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to discuss the problem of Harry Potter. He is becoming a threat to the Order. I fear that he may follow in Voldemort's footsteps."

Sirius leapt to his feet outraged, "Harry would never do that! He's nothing like Voldemort!" the animagus argued.

Dumbledore told him to sit down, "Harry is in many ways very similar to the Dark Lord. Harry Potter and Tom Riddle look virtually identical to each other, both are Parselmouths and they own brother wands. Tom Riddle was academically brilliant, the best student Hogwarts has ever seen and from what Harry's teachers are saying so far, they have never seen such a gifted student. It is three days into the term and already he has blown up the Gryffindor common room, he is acting suspiciously and has transfigured a classmate into a ferret..."

"Malfoy?" Sirius asked curiously.

"It doesn't matter who it is, what matters is that he did it. We are losing our control over him. That is unacceptable. Harry Potter is our best and maybe only chance to defeat the Dark Lord."

"But what about you Albus?" Minerva added, "You are the only wizard he has ever feared. Surely if worst came to worst..."

"Alas, but Voldemort is to strong for me. I cannot defeat him and he knows it. If Potter joins with Voldemort, we are doomed. We will not be able to take down one let alone the both of them. Brother wands working together can do unimaginable things..."

Severus nervously listened to the Order debate the different solutions to the problem. He was scared for Harry, he knew all to well what lengths Dumbledore would go to to get what he wanted. He could only hope that Harry went back before Dumbledore did something to him. He wanted to speak up in Harry's defence but Dumbledore was the only thing keeping him from being thrown in Azkaban and the headmaster bloody well knew it. And lorded it over Severus in such a way that he was forced to serve both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord.

In Severus' mind they were both as bad as the other. Indeed, Dumbledore might be worse because he pretended to be the good guy. Dumbledore had carefully planned every step of Harry's life from the moment he defeated Voldemort. There was a reason why he had left Harry with the Dursleys and it wasn't because he feared Harry would get a swelled head. No, it was so that when Harry was introduced to the Wizarding world he would think Dumbledore was his saviour and believe every word the man said.

Years of manipulation on the headmaster's part had created a purely Gryffindor Harry, just like he wanted it. After all, Dumbledore had let Harry weather every attack on Hogwarts by Voldemort no matter how young he had been at the time. Though the abuse Harry had suffered at the Dursleys - the abuse that the headmaster had known about - was a prime example of the man's callousness.

Judging by the conversation around him, Harry was in for a world of trouble that he wasn't yet ready to face. When he came back, he would be but now, not a chance. And until then, there was nothing Severus could do to help, regardless of how it maddened him so to be helpless.

He tuned back into the meeting in time to hear Dumbledore's damning words, "Then we will bring him under our control. Through any means necessary."

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**