The Scourge

On Meeting a Monster

Harry shook his head at the nutty girl. Insane, but interesting.

- September 2nd, 1997 (17 Years Old) -

- Headmaster’s Office -

It took Dumbledore all of one day to decide that he wanted to pull Harry into his office for a ‘chat’.

Harry was ready. He’d trained. He’d planned. He’d pre-fuckin’-pared for this. But above all, he wanted to meet this asshole who had taken so much from him.

During potions with the Gryffindors, a young third year interrupted Severus and informed him that Harry was needed in the Headmaster’s office. He handed him a small piece of parchment with the words ‘acid pops’ written on it. Severus informed him that was the password to tell the gargoyle who guarded the way up to the office.

Harry made his way down the halls of Hogwarts toward the Headmaster’s office, keeping to the shadows, when he could, and out of sight of those who might be keeping tabs on the new student. He paused when he reached the gargoyle and sneered.

Ugh, really? Fuckin’ passwords? Can’t just have a lock or somethin’ like a regular person? No, he has to have people know the secret ‘code’. Like he was a boy scout or some crap in a club and he was hiding out up there… ‘no evil wizards allowed’.

Just breathe, Harry. Center yourself. You’re an Italian Lord (kinda) – from America. You’re an Italian Lord…

“Acid pops,” he said flatly, glaring at the gargoyle while he waited for the entrance to the stairs to open. The gargoyle seemed to inspect him, as if he was not good enough to enter. He leaned forward, spiked his magic and snarled menacingly at it. (Frank would be so proud.) Apparently, he succeeded in scaring the freaky ass thing into opening up, because the stairs immediately appeared. He took a fortifying breath and ascended to the office.

“Ah, Henry, my dear boy,” Dumblefuck Dumbledore said ‘kindly’, as he peered over his half-moon glasses, eyes twinkling at Harry. His phoenix sat behind him on a perch, eyeing Harry curiously. Dumbledore also took in Harry’s appearance as he sat there, from Harry’s streaked hair and few visible scars, down to his not-necessarily-standard-school-wear boots. (There was only so much he would change about himself, after all.)

“I wanted to personally welcome you to Hogwarts. Please, do come in and have a little chat with an old wizard.”

He pushed a (gross looking) bowl of lemon candy toward Harry. (Seriously, eew, like how long had they been sitting there and how many people’s hands had touched them???)

“Would you like a lemon drop? Most students who come in to visit me enjoy a sweet while we chat.”

Nope, not creepy at all Mr. Pervy, trying to get children with candy… Was that candy spiked? Harry bet it was spiked with some calming potion or truth potion or some shit. Chester Molester alert! He needed an adult! Where was Wade when he needed him? This guy should not be in charge of children, what with his weird magic that gave Harry a slimy feel, and his attempt to push laced sweets. He gave Harry the fuckin’ heeby jeebies, even without the whole ‘I stole all of your money and placed you illegally into an abusive home’ shtick that he had going for him.

Harry looked Dumbledore straight on, dipped his head slightly in a bow, and said respectfully, “Oh no, sir. I do thank you so much for the kind offer, though. I was raised that too many sweets ruin a child’s temperament.”