Chapter 21 Who is That Man?
"Mr. Potter," came the voice of the person Harry wanted to talk to least, "you left the school grounds today. May I ask why?" Dumbledore said, looking over his glasses as if greatly disappointed. Which he was in fact was. Ever since Harry returned from his week-long absence, he had defied him at every turn. Now, with this restraining order, Albus just didn't know what to think.
"None of your business," our hero snarled as he turned to face the old man. At least he wasn't being familiar with him this time. "You aren't supposed to be near me, Dumbledore," he reminded the Headmaster.
"If it has to do with school business, then yes I can question you," Albus stated firmly. He had made sure that little clause was added to the restraining order. It had been a great debate with the Wizengamot, the school board, and Harry's lawyer, but in the end they saw it his way, as they always do. Well, mostly. He had tried to get the whole thing squashed, but Waters was adamant that the now adult, and wasn't that a surprise, did not want anything to do with the Headmaster, and if Dumbledore wanted the young man to stay at Hogwarts, then he would comply. Since the boy did need to be here, he conceded to the demands.
"Yeah, I did note how you snuck that part in," Harry stated with a glare, remembering the rant in the lawyer's letter. He had been in such a hurry at the time that he just skimmed the missive. Now, he was going to have to read it again to see just how far that went. "Don't think I don't know your game, old man. You are just trying to find a way to keep an eye on me."
"It was the only way that you would be able to stay in the castle," Dumbledore stated, rubbing his beard. "You cannot expect to remain at Hogwarts and have me not inquire about your whereabouts. It is against school policy for you to wander away from the castle without informing anyone. Even if you are of age," he added questioningly, as if Harry would tell him how he knew that.
"Great, I'll just be going then," the teen said, making as if to get up. Only to have his friends protest. He turned to them and winked. He knew the old man wouldn't let him leave.
"That is not at all what I meant, young man," the Headmaster sighed, pinching his long nose. "I am merely stating that you should have told someone that you were going. Now once again, why did you leave? You know there are Dark forces that want to kill you." He really wanted him to stay here where he, Albus Dumbledore, could protect him. Why couldn't this unruly teen understand that? Perhaps, he should have let it alone, but he really didn't want Harry wondering around without escort.
Harry smirked at his friends in an 'I told ya so' way, and then turned back to the old man. "I was getting study material," he said calmly, which was ninety-one percent true. "You said I could self-study, and I am. It's not my fault that what I wanted to learn wasn't in your library. Now that I'm of age, I have rights, and one of those rights is to go off campus," he pointed out.
"Yet, you still need to notify the staff. In addition, there is nothing on the curriculum that is not in the library. Consequently, you are studying outside of what we teach in Hogwarts. May I see what you acquired? I need to be sure that it is safe. There are many tomes that are forbidden in the school, or that need to be put aside until one is older," the Headmaster stated, wondering what the child could possibly be learning. He did hope that Harry wasn't turning Greyer than he already was. He brushed off the rest as unimportant, since he, as the headmaster, still had complete control of the school.
"Sure, but don't think for a second that you can 'put it aside'. This is my personal book," Harry said, and pulled Gryffindor's book out and held it out to man, making sure it had a Return Charm on it. If the Headmaster decided to walk away with it, or add any charms to it, it would reappear back in his TARDIS pocket. Harry wasn't taking any chances. He didn't trust this man, or any of the adults he met, bar Sirius and even he was still a maybe.
"This is a priceless manuscript, how did you obtain it?" Albus asked as he turned the book over in his hands, studying it intently. This was a lost piece of knowledge, and he wondered if Harry would let him read it. It was very doubtful at this moment, but he'd ask another time. For he was sure the boy would one day forgive him.
"Not your business," Harry repeated, holding his hand out in an unspoken command.
"Very well," the old man sighed as he handed the book back with a grandfather like smile. "Learn from it well. Furthermore, do try to let us know if you are going to leave the grounds," he said as he turned to go back to the Staff Table.
"Yeah, right," the teen scoffed as he turned back to his friends. Luna nodded, knowing that her friend would go where he will. Neville shrugged, it wasn't his business, and Hermione…
"Harry," the bossy girl started only to stop and flinch when she was met with three piercing glares.
"No, just no, Hermione, don't start with me," Harry bit out with a slash of his hand. He really didn't want to get into it with her. She knew how much he loathed the old goat and the reasons why. He didn't understand why she was so hung up on authority. It had to be something with her upbringing. Perhaps, she'd start to see that adults weren't the last word in everything. They made mistakes, and the Headmaster thought he controlled everyone, that was abuse of power, and the amnesiac hoped she learned that soon.
"I was going to ask if I could read it," the bushy-haired witch huffed, not completely lying. Not that any of the other three teen believed her, but they let it go. As long as she wasn't scolding anyone.
"Like the old man said, it's a priceless artifact. So, sorry, but, no, it's not leaving my possession," our hero stated, putting the book back in his TARDIS pocket.
"You can trust me. I've never damaged a book in my life," she all but begged. She really hoped that he would start treating her like he did the others, while he didn't leave her out, he still held back with her.
"I'm sorry, but I'll see if I can make a temporary copy of it for you," he compromised. He'd make one that couldn't be copied and would disappear in a few days. She would be able to take notes, but that was all. It wasn't that he didn't trust her with the book. He knew she would not abuse it, but he really felt that she still hadn't proven herself either. Sure she'd kept his secrets so far, but nothing had challenged her yet. As it was she was walking a thin line with all her reprimanding and such. Then again, she had been by his side since the beginning, so had Luna.
Maybe, he was playing unfair favorites among his friends. After all, Neville hadn't really proven himself either and he had Merlin's book. However, the shy boy didn't harass him whenever he did anything. He didn't ask questions, and he had stuck up for Harry whenever he could, but so did Hermione. The dark-haired teen knew that he'd let Luna borrow any book in a heartbeat, but she just radiated trust and peace. He was going to have to put this in the databank and look harder at his actions.
"Can you tell me more about it?" she asked, eager to know.
He shrugged, not seeing the harm. "It's a book written by Godric Gryffindor. It's mostly about wandless magic and the pitfalls of messing with spells," he said, scooping up some of the roast beef and potatoes from the platters that just appeared.
"Oh, that sounds wonderful. I will be glad to get a copy," she said excitedly. She was a fast reader and a bit of knowledge was better than none. Besides, it was written by Gryffindor, who wouldn't want to read it? Even Slytherins would jump at that chance.
"Harry, I was wondering something," Luna said, looking at him pointedly. "Why do you still wear glasses? I mean, you might be able to get your eyes healed. Or get contacts. Have you asked Madam Pomfrey? Or attempted to research it with your project?" She really wanted to see if he could pull off something that even the best healers could not.
"I didn't know I could, and they're useful, but I'll look into it," he answered vaguely, he wanted her to understand there was a reason why he didn't use his new magic to rid himself of glasses, other than the fact that it never occurred to him. "Which reminds me I need to get new ones, too bad I didn't think of that while we were in Hogsmeade, or while I was out today," he added, remembering that these spectacles would fade.
"That's right, those are short-term, I had forgotten," Hermione stated a bit upset that she had overlooked it.
Harry waved his hand in a 'forget it' manner. "Don't worry about it, I'll get Madam Pomfrey to magic up a new pair," he lied. He was going to fix his eyes and make this pair plain glass. He once more opened his mouth to ask about Junior, when the twins came up and sat on either side of him.
"So what's this we hear about you sneaking off, ickle Harrykins?" Fred asked as he served himself some roasted chicken. They had just come back from Quidditch practice, and Wood had driven them hard. He was starved.
"Yeah, and why didn't you invite us?" George continued, picking the same food as his twin.
"I had no idea you wanted to go," was the answer. "Please, don't call me ickle, I don't mind Harrykins, much, but would prefer it if you stuck with Harry."
"Okay, Harry," they said together.
"Just for future reference, we always want to go," George stated with a smirk.
"Yeah, trouble is our middle name," Fred added with a matching smirk.
"Right, well I never know when I'll need new material, so how will I tell you when I'm about to go walkabout?" the dark-haired teen asked the matching gingers.
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, when Neville stomped on her foot. She yelped and when she met his glare, she realized that she was doing it again. So, she held her peace, for now.
"Well, that is a puzzle, what with us being in different years," Fred said with a frown. The twins put their heads together behind Harry's back and had a quick discussion with mostly whispers and facial expressions.
They drew apart and they said, "We'll get back to you on that."
"Right, you do that. Hey, I have a question. Your dad told me about you and Ron coming to 'rescue' me during the summer before my second year. What was all that about?" Harry asked, looking back and forth between the two.
"Well, you didn't answer Ron's letters," Fred started as usual. "And I do have to say he was quite worried about you. Don't know why that changed," he added, rubbing his chin. "Anyway, he told us that your relatives didn't treat you right, so we stole Dad's car and went to find out what was going on."
"We got there, and there were bars on your window, locks and a cat flap on your door, and they were feeding you a cold can of soup once a day, or so you told us. Your poor owl was also locked in her cage. Both of you were starving. It's a good thing we showed," George continued, making Harry swing his head between the two.
"Did I tell you why they were doing that? Not that I can think of a good enough reason, but…" he trailed off. He really wanted to know. The more he heard about these Dursleys the more he didn't like them. He was piecing together his childhood from the tidbits people told him, and it looked like he might have been an abused child, or at the very least neglected. Either way it didn't sound like a happy home, which made him more determined to not go back. This new him might wind up hurting them. Abuse would explain his gut reaction to hide while he was on the streets.
"Something about Dobby ruining an important dinner engagement," Fred said with a frown as he tried to remember.
"Yeah, he dropped the pudding on a guest to get you in trouble with the Ministry," George laughed. That was funny, well until you got to the part where Harry was punished. But picturing an elf floating some large dessert over a woman's head and dropping it was hilarious.
"It worked to. You had them cowed, until they found out you couldn't do underage magic," Fred said.
"Why did he do that? I thought he was my friend," Harry asked, remembering Hermione vaguely touching on this subject, when she was retelling his life.
"He was trying to save your life," they said as one.
"Yes, he didn't want you to come to Hogwarts that year," Hermione added, hoping that Harry wouldn't look down on the little guy. "He really thought he was doing the right thing."
"Right, you mentioned that," our hero stated and then waved it away. He'd have to talk to Dobby about it, and the order came for it to be added to the databank. "So, who is the ugly guy with the weird eye, sitting at the Staff Table?" he finally got to ask. All six of them turned to teachers.
Snape's POV
"What are those children talking about? They just all looked this way," Snape asked warily as he watched five Gryffindor— and one Ravenclaw— heads turn towards where he and Moody sat.
He didn't need any more trouble. He still wasn't getting anywhere with the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron was up his nose all the damn time. He couldn't help if the kids in his class were useless. Dumbledore was still questioning him about that night; like his answer would change the more he was asked. He wondered what country he could hide in. Somewhere where there were no Death Eaters, Order members, or ghosts to blackmail him. No Potters or Blacks to make his live miserable. No twinkle-eyed men or torturous masters to control him. There had to be somewhere.
"I don't know, Snape, perhaps they found out that you're a damn Death Eater," the imposter snarled, playing his part. He was trying to use the magical eye to read their lips. 'Constant Vigilance' indeed. He cursed under his breathe when he realized they were talking about him. He threw his napkin down on the table, got up and stomped from the room without another word. He didn't need the attention on him.
"What did you say to Alastor to make him to leave so suddenly?" McGonagall asked, as she patted her lips with a napkin. With Harry's missing memory of the night he ran, she didn't quite trust the Potions Master as much as she used to. Not that she liked the boy right now, still to Obliviate a child, and perhaps being the reason he ran away, well, she was keeping an eye on him.
"I simply asked him if he knew why your Gryffindors were looking this way. Potter is up to something, I know it," Severus snarled, glaring at the teens. His eyes narrowed when he was something green flicker in the brat's glasses, like there was a light on them. 'Just what is that child up to now?' he wondered.
"Severus, must you always blame Harry for everything?" Minerva sighed. It was a constant battle between them, and she really didn't want to get into it right now.
Then the teens looked back to each other and started to talk in whispers.
"I've lost my appetite," Snape said, folding his napkin and placing it on his plate. "Goodnight, Minerva, Filius, Pomona, Albus," he said as he nodded to each of those nearest him, and then swept from the room.
Harry's POV
"You mean the ugly guy that just stomped out? Not Snape, but the old one?" Fred asked, picking up some chicken and taking a bite.
"Yeah, he's a bit unnerving," our hero stated, also returning to his meal.
"That's ole Mad-Eye Moody," George answered, swiping some more chicken off the platter.
"What is his real name? Because that sounds like a nickname," Harry asked with narrow eyes.
"Alastor Moody," Neville answered. "He's the DADA professor and an ex-Auror. Most of the people in Azkaban are there because of him."
'Shite,' Harry thought frantically. 'What am I going to do with that bit of information? I was right, he's an imposter. Why would there be an impostor at Hogwarts? Oh, dammit, he must be the one who put my name in the stupid tournament. But why? Is he the one trying to do me in? Again, why? Fuck, what can I do?' His mind raced with this information. He knew he couldn't trust the adults, and he couldn't just out and out say he knew the guy was a fake. He'd have to explain how he knew. So what to do? Dammit.
Out loud he said, "I don't trust him, there is just something about him that gives me the willies. Try not to be alone with the guy, okay?" he looked to each of his friends with a serious face.
"I don't know, Harry, I was alone with him and all he did was talk about my parents. He seems reasonable enough," Neville said, looking at his frantic friend and wondering what set him off. When the DADA professor talked to him after the class with the Unforgivables, he seemed like a nice guy, if a bit gruff and paranoid.
"Please, just trust me on this, that guy is bad news," he all but begged, still running the new data through his databank, trying to come up with a solution.
"I believe Harry is correct," Luna said with a dreamy look. "That is a man that should be avoided at all cost. He is the Defense Against The Dark Arts professor after all," she added, and then came back to herself, humming a little tune.
"That's right, according to what Hermione has told me, we trusted all the DADA teachers and they all tried to kill me at one point or another," Harry exclaimed, happy to have an excuse.
"Harry, how can you say that? Professor Lupin didn't try to kill you," Hermione said, looking at her friend and wondering the same thing Neville was.
"Wasn't he the werewolf that tried to eat me— twice?" our hero asked with narrow eyes. He still was uncertain about that guy, even if he was Sirius' best friend. From what Hermione told him he was just as reckless as his godfather. Well, maybe not quite, but still with his condition he should've known better than to rush ahead unprepared.
"Well, he really wasn't himself," she tried to defend the werewolf.
"That doesn't negate the fact that he put himself in a position that put others in danger, or the fact that he tried to eat me," Harry snarled, slamming his fork on the table.
"Yes, I suppose you are correct," the bushy-haired witch quickly conceded.
"Well, when you put it like that, I guess I understand why you wouldn't like him. Okay, Harry, I'll keep people around me when he's near. I just hope I don't get detention with him," Neville said to defuse the angry boy. He did wonder if it was more than that, and vowed to ask Harry when they were alone.
"Good," the dark-haired boy said with a firm nod and went back to his dinner. His mind was still racing as to what to do. He knew one thing for sure; he wasn't going to be caught around that man.