Lessons Learned (A Harry Potter Changes The Future Fanfic) Part 1 of 3

Chapter 9 It all hits the fan

“Mr. Potter, report to the Headmasters office, immediately,” Sneered Severus.  A malicious grin marred his features, though Harry saw right through it. He almost could not contain the chuckle bubbling in his chest.

Over the time spent together recently, Harry had learned every expression and nuance he used.

This made it incredibly clear that Severus was faking.

He was a good actor, he would give him that.

He had to be, what with being a spy for so long and all.

It seemed very few really knew the real Severus.

It was a bit sad, but Harry would not pity him.

He did not fancy dissecting toads or what not for even considering pitying him.

Several Slytherin’s in the hall hissed and laughed, enjoying the flush of embarrassment that crossed Harry’s face. He wasn’t worried about getting into any trouble. More so it was the fact that everyone was gawking at him, either in pity or enjoyment of his torment and it was making him uncomfortable.

Harry could fly around during Quidditch, the screaming of hundreds of fans not fazing him.

In an individual setting, however, he couldn’t stand the attention.

At least in the air he could become so focused, everyone else seemed to disappear.

Shaking off his thoughts, Harry hefted his bag higher up his shoulder, quietly promised to tell his friends what was wanted, and made his way to the Headmaster’s office.

*****

Albus sat, fingers steeped, contemplating the cup before him.

At that moment, Harry stepped quickly into the room.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” Harry asked, before noticing the pristine cup between them.

“So, this is the cup.” Harry said, stating the obvious. “Do you get the honor or do I?”

Albus nodded in Harry’s direction, a small smile on his lips.

Harry stood looking at the small, dainty cup. Such evil contained in such a small, innocuous vessel.

Stepping closer, his scar began to twinge almost painfully. Quickly, almost like a rubber band being tugged then released, he felt something akin to a migraine building up.

*****

Lord Voldemort paced in agitation.

No, the most feared wizard of all time never paced. He walked sedately back and forth in a repetitive manner.

Yes, that was is.

The reason behind his current agitation was of course Harry Potter and by extension, the Order of the Blasted Birds.

The order had been too quiet recently while his visions he attempted to send Harry were failing. Something was up. He just had to find out what. Pansy’s attempts on Draco were bearing no fruit what so ever.

Fed up, Voldemort decided to try something.

Imagining the link between them as a string of thread, he concentrated on making his way along the thread. At the end, far in the reaches of his home, Hogwarts, he could sense the blasted Golden Boys ‘light’.

Gently easing along as to not alert him to his presence, he finally reached the end.

Concentrating, Lord Voldemort imagined opening his eyes to his surroundings.