Hostile Takeover

Chapter 5

The summer went much the same as the last with Harry taking time to practise as much wandless magic as he could when no one was home. It started with small things; first year spells that wouldn't cause any damage if he got it wrong. But eventually he made his way up to third year spells by the time he was rescued by Dumbledore.

He'd never forget the terrified look Petunia had on her face when she'd wrenched open the cupboard door. She had furiously whispered that he was to get his things and leave with the freak standing just inside their door. He'd obliged, moving much too fast for his aching muscles to keep up.

Dumbledore's plan, it seemed, was to use Harry as bait to get a new professor to teach at the school. Except, Harry didn't want to help Dumbledore get this professor to the school. Something about him set his intuition alarm bells off.

When the headmaster excused himself to the restroom, Harry drifted over to the photographs he'd seen previously and zeroed in on the one of his mother. She was standing behind a cauldron, her entire focus on counting stirs until she realised she was being watched. She looked up with a smile on her face and waved.

Suddenly, the teacher-Slughorn, Dumbledore had called him-was leaning up against his back and talking about all sorts of people he's taught over the years. A large hand settled on his shoulder as he leaned over Harry more to reach for another frame, which led to Harry feeling a not-so-subtle and very easily identifiable part of the man behind him. He froze, suddenly feeling very ill, and just barely managed to escape to the kitchen to throw up what little he had in him.

Dumbledore appeared just after he finished rinsing his mouth with tap water and asked what he'd missed.

"Sorry Professor," Harry thought fast, he didn't want to admit what had actually set him off-least of all when said reason for the vomiting was now leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen. "I saw a photo of my mum and it made me think about what it would have been like to know her and...it was just too much all at once. I'm sorry."

"Not to worry, dear boy. A cleaning charm will set that all to rights. Now Horace, since I clearly cannot convince you to return to your post, I'll be taking my leave." With a quick charm cast behind Harry to eliminate the mess, Dumbledore turned to leave and Harry was very quick to follow. He practically flew out of the door to get further away from what had just happened.

"Albus wait-I'll be expecting a raise. And my old rooms!"

"Of course Horace. I'll see you on the first, as usual." With that, Dumbledore held out his arm for Harry to take and they were squeezed through the tube of apparition once more.

To say that Tom was livid was an understatement.

As soon as Harry'd given him a name to this professor Tom stood up and chucked his teacup against the wall.

"That evil, manipulative, idiotic bastard!" Harry was astonished to see such anger from someone who usually was very controlled with his responses. "Tell me exactly what happened, Harry. I mean it. All of it. Do NOT leave anything out."

Harry tried, but when he got to the part he'd dreaded thinking about most, he faltered.

"He-he leaned over me and...I...He..."

"Let's try this. Take a deep breath and when you exhale just blurt it all out in one go. I'm not going to judge you for anything that happened, but I do need to know everything about what occurred."

Harry took a deep breath and let it all out in one fell swoop. "HeleanedovermeandwashardandIcouldfeelhiserection. And then I ran and threw up."

"Harry, you must listen to me and listen carefully. Do not, under any circumstances, let that man near you. His mind is depraved and he will corrupt anyone he can get his hands on, especially if he decides you've got a bright future ahead of you." Harry took the warning to heart, and although he hadn't much thought about sex he heard enough about it from classmates to know what was happening. He vowed he'd never go near that man again if he could help it.

Turns out, he wouldn't be able to help it at all as Snape would be teaching defence and Slughorn would be teaching potions. And since Slughorn took a lower score for NEWTs classes...Harry was screwed. He'd had a brief moment when he heard Slughorn would be taking potions that at least he'd not gotten an O which meant he wouldn't need to worry about being in his classroom...but then McGonagall broke the news to him when she handed him his schedule.

"Never fear, Mr. Potter. You said you wanted to be an auror, and this is the perfect opportunity to follow through with it. Now, Mr. Weasley..."

Harry was gobsmacked and felt ill at the idea that he'd have to deal with this man for the rest of the school year.

The first few potions classes went well. He purposefully sat in the middle of the room so it would be difficult for the man to get to him without others seeing, and would make it even more difficult for the man to touch him. That was, until they walked in one day and were faced with assigned seating.

"But Professor, we don't have assigned seating in any of our classes-this is practically unheard of!"

"Mr. Malfoy, I hope you don't take that tone with your father. I've taken the liberty of deciding where you will all sit based on skills, so you can help each other more easily."

"But Hermione is the only reason I passed the class in the first place, I can't learn without her helping me!" Slughorn sighed and turned to Ron who had turned a brilliant shade of pink.

"Mr. Weasley, don't you think someone else can benefit from Ms. Granger's studies as well? Hmm? Why don't you all sit where I've written you down on the board and do as you're told. You're here to learn, not to make a fuss over seating arrangements."

Harry, unfortunately, was assigned to a desk by himself. In the back of the room. He didn't even need to meditate to know that Tom was furious and throwing more teacups. Personally, he just felt ill and prayed the class would end as fast as possible.

He'd made it until Halloween before anything untoward had happened in potions class. The book he was given for the class was extremely helpful for his studies, although he couldn't help but think to himself that he'd seen that handwriting before. He just couldn't place it. And it did nothing to alleviate the anxiety he now had associated with the dungeons. Particularly in relation to the potions professor.

They were brewing a particular difficult potion, something that required a lot of focus to get it right. Even with the helpful tips in the book, Harry was struggling to keep his potion from failing. And Hermione was no better off-she looked mad with her hair standing on end and stirring her potion while frantically reading the next instructions.

That's when it happened. He felt a hand ghost over the small of his back as he added the next ingredient, and practically shrieked when it slithered back to his bum and squeezed. Some of the less focused students looked back at him and Slughorn merely pretended to be looking at his potion. When the students turned back, the professor leaned in to whisper to him.

"Best not to alert them to what you're up to all alone back here, eh Mr. Potter? You don't want them to jump to conclusions." With that, he walked away leaving a very sick and very worried Harry behind. He didn't even turn his sample in by hand like they were supposed to, opting to levitate it to the pile on Slughorn's desk. He bolted for the door as soon as the first shriek of the bell rang out and ran from the dungeons as fast as he could.