Harry Potter and the School for Wizards

"How are things going, Mr. Potter?"

Minerva McGonagall's voice startled Harry. He hadn't expected anyone to find him in his perch on one of Hogwart's many perches, but if he had, he would have expected a student.

"As well as may be expected, I guess." His hair was wild, unkempt. He hadn't eaten well in days - not since Hermione left, at least.

"I hear that your first few days have been mostly uneventful." That was likely a tactful way of saying, boring. Harry had written out what he wanted to cover ahead of time, and had spent most of the class reading from his scrolls, not meeting people's eyes.

"You could say that."

"Mr. Potter." McGonagall had some of the fire back in her voice, a note of exasperation that he had missed. "Will you please look at me when I speak to you."

He turned his face towards her, and he heard a sharp intake of breath. "When was the last time you ate a good meal, Mr. Potter?"

He felt like he was eleven years old again. "I'm not certain, Professor. I haven't been very hungry."

"Mr. Potter...Harry...we need to talk."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I know I've let you down."

"Harry, I am disappointed." He started to hang his head again. "Not in you, though. I'm disappointed in myself, for not having reached out to you before. I suppose I thought that you had other people to turn to...others that would have been there for you. I was so sure that Mrs. Weasley would have..."

"She would have," Harry said. "She tried to write me, after...after the end of year six. I couldn't write her back. She's not the only one - I've had loads of letters. None of them really helped though. I don't think I was ready to talk to anyone - and now I don't know what to say."

"Harry, no matter how you feel, you aren't alone. There are people all around you who care for you, who want to be there for you. I know there's not much we can do, but you need to give us a chance to listen."

Harry felt a stir of anger, but he wasn't sure why. He fought it down, though. He was doing that a lot lately - bottling up the anger inside. Instead, he just shook his head. "I can't, Professor. There's no one...I mean, everyone lost someone, and the only people who'd really understand about Ron, it just hurts too much to talk to."

"I understand that you saw Miss Granger this summer. How is she holding up?"

"She's doing well...or at least, she's always been better at putting a brave face on things than I have. She couldn't...couldn't stick around, though."

McGonagall sat down, and put her arm on his shoulder. "Harry, are you sure you're able to keep teaching? I think you have a lot that you could add to Hogwarts' students, but maybe it's too early to expect that from you."

Somehow, her understanding just fed the anger inside him - he couldn't strike out at her, though. If she was patronizing him, he deserved it - what kind of person could defeat the Dark Lord, and not do his all for his own students? "I'm sorry, Professor, that I haven't been at my best. I'll try to do better. If you'll excuse me." He grabbed his broomstick and leaped off the roof, leaving McGonagall alone with her thoughts.

~.~.~

Ginny Weasley could hardly believe the change in Harry. His first few classes had been as boring as Binns - reading straight from the book, asking for scrolls instead of practical demonstrations. There was a gleam in his eye now, though, and Ginny shivered with anticipation as he began the class. He held no book, no notes - just a wand.

"Today, class, I thought I'd start with something different."

"Finally," a Slytherin in the corner muttered, echoing the sentiments of the class. Ginny almost clapped - Harry looked alive again. A tear escaped her eyes - she'd been afraid that she'd lost him altogether. She'd never been part of the Trio, always on the outside, but they'd always been there, with Hermione and Harry as important to her as her brother. She'd mourned Ron, as much as she could, but she had been afraid that she would have to start mourning Harry, as well.

"Five points from Slytherin," Harry said, "and thank you for volunteering. Mr. Godfried. Up front, please."

There was a general mutter from the class, but he ignored it, as the Slytherin approached the front.

"Class, I'm sure that for many of you," and here, his eyes swept the Gryffindors, ignoring the Slytherins altogether, "the Dueling Charms covered in this section of the book are just a review. I think we need to supplement this with a practical review. I'd like each of you to take turns casting each of the eight charms in this section. And, so I can see all of you, we'll just have you cast them all on Mr. Godfried, instead of pairing off, as per normal. I'm sure, since he was so bored with the previous class, he'll be more than happy to help demonstrate. "

"Hardly, Professor!" Iago Godfried sputtered out. "There are some painful spells in there - you can't expect me..."

"Ten points from Slytherin. Another word, and it's fifty and a week's detention."

Iago stopped talking, and stood stoically. His face was a study of arrogance. Ginny was a little stunned. Taking stun and pain curses from each student in the class would be worse than being Snape's designated taste-tester.

Harry looked pleased with himself, as each of the students came to the front and cast their spells. Some he had repeat their spells. Most of the Gryffindors, who had learned these spells from their fellows in past years, got them right the first time - but that didn't stop some of them from casting a spell more than once. When it came time for Ginny to cast, though, she couldn't do it. Iago had already taken twelve back spasms and fifteen migraine curses, among others. He was barely standing, his eyes half-closed, hands just hanging at his sides. Harry had forbidden him to defend himself, so he wasn't even holding his wand.

She looked at Harry, and he looked impatient. "Well, Ginny? I know you can do these, but I'd like to have you demonstrate the proper form."

"Professor...I don't think I can do this."

"Are you alright, Ginny?"

"I just can't...can't hurt him."

"Miss Weasley," Harry looked angry - something that he'd been hiding below the surface was beginning to peak out. "You are holding up the class. Will you please cast your spells."

She mouthed at Iago, I'm sorry, and cast each of the spells in turn. She tried not to put too much behind them, but she still felt her stomach twist with each spell. When she was done, she slumped at her desk. Why was Harry doing this?

The Slytherins did almost as well as the Gryffindors. None of them complained, and a few even seemed to enjoy it.

When they were all done, Harry smiled. He still hadn't let Iago sit down. "Well, that's all we will do today. I think you all have a good grounding in the practical aspects, but we will be continuing with practical sessions once per week. We will also be performing a study on Dark Wizards. To begin with, I would like each of you to provide me with a report on how to identify a Dark Wizard, two rolls, by next Friday. Class is dismissed."

With his words, Iago collapsed, and most of the students walked around him, carefully ignoring him. Ginny, though, helped him up, and walked with him to Madame Pomfrey. She didn't see Harry glaring at her back, but didn't much care.

.~.~.

"There is no way that you can defend Potter this time, Professor McGonagall!" Snape spat out at her. He had entered the staff room livid at the behavior of the school's Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher.

"I have no intention of doing so, Severus," she said, acerbically. "I can't imagine what possessed Professor Potter, but Miss Weasley was in tears over the incident."

He just sneered back at her. "Oh, that's too bad. I'm so sorry that Miss Weasley was so broken up at this. Tell me, will she be missing classes for the next week, as Iago Godfried will be doing?"

"No, she will not," McGonagall shot back, "but I'm sure that he won't be alone in the hospital wing. I understand that Miss Claire and Mister Milton had accidents in Potions today, and will be there with him."

"That's entirely different. It was their own carelessness that caused them to lose their ears, and I sent them to Madame Pomfrey with very little delay. Potter-"

The door slammed open, and Harry strode in. His face was still pinched from his near starvation diet, but he looked more alive than McGonagall had seen him before. He strode in, and stared at Professor Snape. "Yes, Snape? Did you have something to say to me?"

Professor Snape scowled at the young man in front of him. "Mr. Potter, I hope that you can explain yourself."

"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Snape?"

"I believe that Severus feels that your display this afternoon was a little excessive," McGonagall interjected.

"Really, Professor?" Harry looked full of false innocence. "I thought that such displays promoted character. At least, that's what I've heard in similar cases in the past." That had been Snape's defense the prior year, when a few Gryffindors had tasted all of the Slytherin poisons. Harry had spent a week in the Hospital Wing after that one, and Ron had never recovered his strength.

Snape was clearly ready to defend himself against the implied accusation, but the door slammed open again. Madam Pomfrey was there, white as a sheet. "Professors Snape and McGonagall, the Headmaster asked me to have you join him in his office."

"This isn't finished, Potter," Snape spat, on his way out.

"No, its not," Harry answered to his back, before he, too, left the staff room.

McGonagall's comments hadn't helped him get over Ron, much less Hermione. He didn't feel at home again, and he certainly wasn't happy. He had a purpose now, though, and as long as he focused on his purpose, he could ignore the pain.

Tom Riddle had been a Slytherin, and he'd caused the mess that ruined Harry's life. Snape had weakened Ron and Harry last year - Draco almost killed Hermione in the Forest while they were recuperating. Nothing good had ever come out of Slytherin house, and it was unlikely that anything ever would, although it was very convenient for them to put all of the malcontents and evildoers in one place.

Very convenient indeed - because Harry wasn't going to rest until he'd made every single one of them pay.

"Professor Potter, could I speak with you?" Roland Weston's voice snapped Harry out of his reverie for a moment. The boy's face was still covered with boils from a misdirected curse in the afternoon's DADA class.

Harry had a brooding look on his face as he turned to look at the Gryffindor boy. "Yes? What is it?"

"Well, you see...I...I just needed to tell you..."

There was a shout from behind Roland, from one of the other first year Gryffindors. "Oy, Roland, come on, mate! You'll miss supper."

Roland looked torn.

Harry decided to encourage him to be with his friends - after all, there was nothing that the boy would have to say to his DADA teacher that wouldn't wait. "Go on, Roland - we can talk after the next class."

Roland nodded his thanks, and was off. Harry didn't think anything more about it, even when Roland seemed to avoid him at the next few class sessions.

Ginny hadn't asked Harry's permission to take his Cloak this time, although he'd been happy enough to give it the other times she'd asked. She was sure that he wouldn't have agreed with her purpose. She had already overheard the password to the Headmaster's office, and was reluctantly on her way there.

She had passed most of the last few weeks in shock. The venom that Harry had shown towards the Slytherins was way out of character for him. Sure, he'd never had a good word for a Slytherin, and he'd occasionally picked a fight with Malfoy in the halls, but he'd never gone out of his way to harm them.

She went up the stairs, and hoped that he would be there - she found, though, that he wasn't alone.

"This has gone far enough, Albus!" McGonagall was almost shouting. She had gotten there at the same time as Snape, presumably for the same reason, although Snape was astonished at her venom.

"I agree," he said, nasal inflection making it sound like agreeing with McGonagall was the most unpleasant thing he had ever done. "I will admit to having pushed the limits with some of my character lessons in the past, but Mr. Potter's actions push far beyond those limits."

"Indeed," Dumbledore sat back in his chair, his normal twinkle curiously absent. "And what would you have me do?"

"I believe its obvious, Professor, that Mr. Potter isn't ready to teach here, as it should have been obvious when I raised the same point this summer."

"And what would you have had him do, Severus," the headmaster admonished. "Would you have preferred him to have traded on his fame, going into government - or worse, playing Quidditch?"

"He would have been well suited for either of them - and in either case, he wouldn't have put my students in the Hospital Ward! Falco Von Hoek has had the curious honor of making a new Hogwarts record, only in school for nine days before his first overnight visit."

Harry, perhaps making up for not spending as much time with Pomfrey himself as he'd been accustomed to in the past, had kept her ward busy over the last month of schooling. There hadn't been a single night since his second week without at least one Slytherin in the Ward, often more than one.

The increased tensions were taking their toll on everyone, even Professor McGonagall. "Headmaster, I don't think that Harry is beyond redemption," she ignored Snape's snort, "but I think he needs a good talking to. Most of the students look up to him, and when he tortures children for merely being in his least favorite house, they imitate his actions."

Albus nodded, gravely. "That is a danger, although it will pass with time."

Snape was incredulous. "How, Headmaster? When all of my students are in the ward, and he finds someone else to dislike?"

Albus paused, then responded. "No, Severus. It has been my experience that our students are smarter than they are given credit for. When they see a professor being arbitrary, awarding his favorites, punishing those he dislikes for past or imagined wrongs, then they quickly lose all respect for him." McGonagall thought he was twinkling at Snape, but wasn't sure. She was certainly suppressing a smirk at the thought. "I'm more concerned at the cost to Harry."

"That's rich, Headmaster, although I suppose that I should not be surprised that you would side with your favorite student."

"That's enough, Severus." Albus' eyes weren't twinkling - they were flashing, and something impatient lay behind them. "There are still aspects to the situation that have yet to be revealed, even to me, but it is clear that if Harry continues on the path that he has set, there will come to be a point where he ceases to be the champion that we needed him to be in the past. And that, Severus, would be a tragedy that you cannot begin to imagine. I will talk with Mr. Potter," he said with finality, "and I hope that it will do some good. In the meantime, there's still the other matter."

~.~.~

Harry was dreaming, he knew it, but it didn't help. In his dreams, he saw Ron and Draco fighting - they were arguing about something, but he couldn't hear most of the words. He came closer.

Draco was taunting Ron, daring him to do his worst. Ron was casting spell after spell at Draco, and he was laughing away. Harry felt suddenly very angry - Draco was all that was wrong with the Wizarding world, he was a symbol for every Slytherin, every Pureblood bigot. In the dream, Harry pulled back his wand, and his face flushed with hatred, he cast a spell that he had never successfully performed while awake. "Avada Kadavra!" he called. There was a flash of green light, and Draco fell dead.

There was silence in his dream, and then Ron started to laugh. Harry rushed over to make sure he was okay, and then watched, stunned, horrified, as his features melded and ran together, as did the features of the boy on the ground. After an agonizing minute, the boy on the ground no longer looked like Draco - he saw Ron lying on the ground, dead, silent. In Ron's place was Draco, alive, laughing, content. "You've done it, Potter. You've really done it. I could never have managed it without you." Draco kept laughing.

Harry sat bolt upright. His scar wasn't hurting, but his head pounded. He put on his glasses. He felt somehow dirty - like he'd done something terribly wrong - but he wasn't sure why, or how to make it better. He needed to talk to someone, but it couldn't be Albus or McGonagall - they'd just talk to him, like they always had, as a child. They might trust him, might even like him, but he didn't have a real relationship with them.

He had one thought, though, and he reached for the Marauder's Map - it was late, but he thought there was a good chance that the person he wanted to talk to wouldn't be asleep, if she took after the rest of her family. He hoped so, anyway. He felt guilty for thinking about her this way, but she was the closest she had to one of the old crew.

~.~.~

Ginny made her way back to her dormitory in shock - she would give the Cloak back tomorrow. Harry probably needed to hear some of what she'd overheard, but she didn't know what the new Harry would do about it.

As she reached the snoring Fat Lady, she heard a whispering behind her. "Psst. Ginny."

She turned, and saw Harry there, the Marauder's Map tucked into a pocket. If he had it handy, then she was caught - she reluctantly pulled off the cloak, and tossed it to him.

"Err, thanks," he said. "I wasn't actually going to talk to you about that, but I appreciate having it back."

"What did you want then, Harry?" She couldn't hide her relief that he wasn't asking her about the cloak.

"I wanted to talk to you, if I could. Could we maybe go somewhere?"

"How about the Gryffindor common room?"

"That would be great, Ginny. I haven't been there since...last year." He trailed off, and Ginny saw a glimpse of the old, broken-hearted Harry under the new Harry with the heart of stone. Her heart melted, although she wondered why she preferred an unhappy Harry to one that was untouched by his pain.

Ginny muttered the password to the Fat Lady, who didn't even seem to wake up as the portrait opened and closed, and Harry followed her in.

The common room was almost deserted. It was late, and few of the Gryffindors of this year had a habit of finding their way out of bounds. Harry and Ginny sat on opposing couches, neither of them quite looking each other in the eye.

"What did you want to talk about, Harry?"

"I just wondered..." he trailed off, losing his nerve, but Ginny waited patiently. Then he seemed to change direction. "I noticed on the Map that you were in Dumbledore's office. Are you alright?"

Ginny spoke quietly. "Yes, I'm fine Harry. I had something to talk with Dumbledore about, but I didn't get the chance. I...I'm not sure if I should be telling you this, you a teacher and all."

Harry looked at her oddly. "Ginny, its me. Remember, the guy who helped you get through the wards Fred put on his socks two summers ago?"

Ginny gave a slight smile, but her mood still wasn't light. It seemed like every good memory was tinged with something sad. She remembered that Harry, all right, but he seemed so different from the serious, drawn man sitting in front of her.

"I remember, Harry. Please, don't be upset, but I was going to talk to Dumbledore about...things...and he was talking with Snape and Professor McGonagall. And I listened."

"I can't be mad about that, Ginny. I've been there more than a few times myself, and it saved our lives a few times, to."

"Well, you probably know all about this already - but did you know that they're searching students?"

Harry looked back at her, oddly. "You mean searching their trunks or something? What, did Fred and George get a shipment past Filch?"

"No, Harry, searching actual students. Apparently, there's something - I'm not sure quite what - but its connected with the Influensus curse. They're looking for it on students. Madam Pomfrey has been trying to look at people as they've come into the ward."

"Well, I suppose I've helped there." Harry seemed cheerful at the thought, which turned Ginny's stomach. Did he actually enjoy what he was doing?

"Not really. Most of the other curses make whatever they're looking for hard to find - they can't check the Slytherins who come in there cursed from head to toe for it. And the ward is so full all the time that they can't check anyone else, either."

Harry looked like he'd swallowed something sour. "Well, I suppose I'll have to cut back for awhile - at least until they find whatever it is they're looking for. Did they say anything about it?"

"Well, Snape said that Influensus was something like Imperious, but not as strong, and it doesn't work well on adults. Its not one of the Unforgivables, but its close. And apparently, you need to leave some sort of mark on the target, which is tied to the spell - they didn't say what it looked like, though."

"Hmm, did they say how they knew about the spell?"

"Apparently, one of the older students was also under the spell. He said that it was some sort of plot to help along the next Dark Wizard." Ginny wasn't sure if she should have revealed this part to Harry - he looked grim, his jaw set. The fire in his eyes looked different - more like another pair of eyes that Ginny still saw in her nightmares. She was trembling, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Well, those of us on the other side will have to keep an eye out then, won't we?" Ginny definitely felt sick, now. There was a look of hate in Harry's eyes that she'd never seen in him before, and she was sure that she'd lost him. And she hadn't even told him what else she'd heard - the feelings of McGonagall and Dumbledore about his actions, which mirrored her own; or the other parts of the influenced student's plans. Plans which, apparently, involved Harry.

~.~.~

Harry returned to his bed, revitalized by the discussion. While most people wouldn't have been energized by the thought of yet another threat to Hogwarts, Harry was not most people. He had been conditioned by years of school to believe that he was at his best in such circumstances, that only under threats of violence could he build friendships or feel successful.

He fell asleep quickly, but found himself on a familiar plane. Ahead of him, Draco was arguing again - this time, with Hermione.