Dumbledore rose and fired off a concussive hex that shook many first years from their seats and knocked the cutlery from the tables. It also cut through the sudden panic. "As tempting as it is to send the students to their common rooms, I suspect that sending two houses to the dungeon where the Troll is might be bad." He smiled. "So instead, the Professors will be heading out hunting." He pointed at most of the senior staff and they trouped off in groups of two.
"If the rest of you would continue eating, there's no reason to worry." He sat down and proceeded to dig into a plate of ham and turkey with gusto.
"That could be a problem," murmured Hari.
"What?" Pansy was looking at him with a certain growing dread that this was going to be bad.
"The Troll has headed down the second floor corridor."
"And?"
"Well, the teachers are headed for the dungeon for the moment."
"Yes?"
"There's a girl's bathroom on the second floor."
"Okay."
"Granger appears to be inside it, sobbing."
"Still not seeing the problem here."
"Well, I figure it might be a good deed for the year if I keep her from dying. She annoys me, but if I killed everything that merely annoyed me . . ." Hari rose. "Who wants to come?"
His friends looked at each other. Daphne decided to answer for them. "None of us. Seriously," she went on. "We'll let Dumbledore—" she ignored Pansy's pout "—know that the Troll is upstairs so you'll have backup. We're not crazy, Hari." She turned to Pansy. "We don't have to like the man to be aware he's a massively powerful wizard charged with our safety—no matter how lax he seems."
Hari nodded. As unadventurous as it was, they were remarkably sensible civilians. Uncle Kakuzu told stories of ripping off heads of those civilians who decided to 'help'. "Fair enough. I'm not sure what backup I need, but eh." He paused. "I notice none of you are trying to dissuade me."
"Hari," said Blaise calmly, "you're insane. You might be our friend, but there's nothing we can do to stop you. Besides, the Headmaster made it clear there's even a grave out back for people who get themselves killed, so it's not like the school isn't prepared."
"That said," interjected Tracy, "please don't die."
"If he did, it'd make our lives a little less crazy," muttered Pansy.
"Meh. My dad would kill me if I died before him." Hari gave a jaunty wave to the head table and walked out the double doors at the entrance to the hall.
"Did . . . did Dumbledore just wave back to him?" hissed Tracy.
"Uh-huh."
"Round the twist," repeated Pansy.
X
X
Hari hummed to himself as he walked through two secret passageways and up a staircase that apparently led to the dungeons. It was shorter than the route the Stutterfaces had taken. He was also walking on the walls to keep from getting bored.
It was funny, really. He didn't exactly hate Granger because that would require caring enough about her. He just found her silly, stupid, and annoying. He had to admit, though, that this was at least in part because she was twelve. What little experience he had with people around his age had led him to believe that he was unusual (although his new group of friends might well be on their way to his version of normality). And here he was, heading to save her life. He could run, but he was making better time than the Troll. It kept stopping to hit the walls.
His father had told him to protect girls. Civilian ones, anyway. Kunoichi were on their own. Uncle Hidan objected, but that was because Uncle Hidan thought everyone should die. Most of his Uncles were in agreement with his father. Uncle Pein certainly was, and Uncles Deidara and Sasori sometimes. Uncle Tobi—most of the time—was the type to save every princess he saw. Even Uncle Kisame thought that women were supposed to be protected if they were civilians. Okay, maybe not actually protected, but he didn't actually aim at them. Most of the time. On the other hand, his Uncles had a near pathological hatred of children, having all declared that one was enough, thank you very much.
There was a scream as the Troll kicked in the door of the girl's bathroom. Hari dropped out of the illusionary part of the ceiling and landed just inside the bathroom. There was probably something wrong with a school that had secret passages into the ceiling of a girl's bathroom. Then again, usually the passage led to the oubliette.
"Turn around please," he said. The Troll whirled, club raised. "Thank you." False Darkness exploded from his hands and blasted the Troll off its feet and into the wall, destroying sinks and filling the air with electrically charged mist as Hari kept up the attack, using one hand after the other to fire more shots to drive the Troll almost a foot into the stonework.
"Let's be sure, hm?" He waved his hand, turning a piece of the debris into a steel spike a foot long and hefted it, flinging it into the Troll's head, pinning it to the wall through its skull.
"Did you kill it?" the small voice sounded like it had been crying.
"Yep." Hari grinned and turned to face the girl, eyes close as usual. "I'm hoping Professor Stutterfaces shows up so I can show him I was right."
Hermione poked her head around the side of the stall she'd been hiding in. "Lightning and a spike in the head?"
"Exactly. Good memory there." Hari leaned against the wall. "Oh good, the faculty are on the way. I wonder how many points Professor Greasy will try and take from me this time? I mean, we're at zero, so I can't imagine it'll do much . . ."
"Why don't you care about losing points?"
"Do you actually want to know?" asked Hari. "Or do you just want to tell me I'm wrong."
Hermione sniffled a little. "Both? Or at least both if your reason is bad."
"Fair enough. I don't care about the cup. It's really about that simple, honestly. It has no value except to show that we got it. So what? Besides, considering how many points I lost for being polite in my Potions class, I find that it pretty much killed any interest I might have had."
"I . . ." Hermione paused. "I knew that you were right. I remember all our books. It was wrong." It was clearly costing the girl to admit that the teacher might be wrong to punish someone for being polite and correct. She took a deep breath. "I should care about the points. They're a way to show I have worth. But . . . but they're about pride in my house. I hate my house. It's supposed to be the house of the brave and the good, but they're all petty and small minded and mean!
"I wanted to be in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw because Professor Dumbledore was in that house and he's the greatest wizard in recent memory. And all the books I read say that Gryffindor is the house of the light and good wizards come from it. But no one likes me. It's just like school before! I tried to be helpful and people got mad because I knew how to do something they were having trouble with!
"I hate my house. They pick on me and no one has a kind word for anyone who isn't like them. I'm smarter than my peers, just like always, and they hate me for it, just like always. I didn't wantto be smarter than them. I didn't ask to have eidetic memory! But it's not like I can shut it off. And instead of asking for help or even letting me be helpful, they berate me for it!
"It's the same everywhere I go. I try to be helpful and instead of even politely telling me to go away, they're mean. I mean, I don't think I've ever had a friend, at least not one who isn't an adult! And now the whole house at my boarding school hates me and I have to sleep in the same room as those petty, spiteful girls I've always had to deal with!"
Hari's eyebrows were climbing as her voice rose. She was crying again, but at least it wasn't all self-pity anymore. Anger he understood. Bits of debris were whipping around the room as she began to shout.
"I just wanted to find a place where people were like me!"
It was only Hari's quick reflexes that saved him. He lashed the bits of porcelain out of the air as everything airborne burst into shrapnel that flew away from the enraged girl.
"Tell me something," he said as the tinkling died away. "Did you need a wand to do that?"
"What?" she snapped.
He gestured to the ruins of the bathroom. "It looked to me like you were levitating what I'll call a hundred pounds of miscellaneous detritus and then turned it into a giant fragmentation device." He smiled. "Did you need a wand?"
She looked around. "That was me?"
"Yes."
She looked around. "I guess I didn't." Her eyes rolled back in her head and she would have landed face first in the shards on the ground if he hadn't caught her.
"So a girl's fainted into my arms. Dad still has me beat by three years. Oh well."
"MISTER POTTER!"
He turned, Hermione in his arms still. "Yes, Professor?" he asked mildly of the cat-lady who was looking more than a little harried. "Oh, hello Professor Snape, Professor Stutterfaces."
"Twenty points from Slytherin, Potter," hissed Snape. His heart wasn't in it though. He sighed. "For whatever it was you did."
"I killed a Mountain Troll, Professor Snape." He turned to Stutterfaces. "Can you guess what I used, Professor?"
The glare he got was impressively dark for a man who usually jumped at his own shadow. Or just about anything, really. "Sheer, dumb luck?"
Hari made a 'tsk' sound. "No, no, no, Professor. I used lightning and a transfigured spike flung at high speed." He watched as Stutterfaces' fingers twitched.
"What were you doing here, Mister Potter," asked Professor Cat.
"Do you really want to know, Professor?"
"I wouldn't have asked, Mister Potter."
"Killing a Mountain Troll and saving a student."
There was a moment of stunned silence. "YOU WHAT?" the cry came in triplicate.
"Shhh," he nodded down at Hermione. "She's fainted. I'm trying not to wake her." Professor McGonagall twitched a little. "I should take her to the medic and . . ." Hermione was levitated out of his arms.
"I think I shall do that," Professor McGonagall was nearly snarling. "You have detention tonight."
"That makes three, right Professors?" Hari looked over at the other two Professors. "Wonderful. To avoid making anyone jealous, I shall ignore them equally." He crouched and leapt straight up, vanishing into the apparently solid stone of the ceiling.
"Did . . ." McGonagall looked at her colleagues. "Did he just jump into the ceiling."
"I can't even be bothered to take points," grumbled Snape. "It's not like there are any left to take. Not even his idiot father and that band of monsters you had, Minerva, managed to get to zero, let alone maintain it for two months!"
X
X
Hari strolled into the Great Hall. Professor Dumbledore was drinking a cup of tea and gave him a cheery smile. "Welcome back, Mister Potter. Can I assume that the Troll is no longer a threat?"
"Do Mountain Trolls normally survive being blasted by multiple lightning strikes and then nailed to stone by a spike to the head?"
"Not usually, no."
"Then yes." Hari sat down with his companions.
"You killed it?"
"Well yes." Hari blinked. "I mean, I went over how to kill one in class. Honestly, I think I over did it."
"Killed a Mountain Troll?" asked Blaise.
"Yes."
"Killed as in dead?"
"You heard Professor Headmaster, right?" asked Hari. "He said they don't usually live through spikes to the head. And I only did that to be sure. It was already dead."
"Are you really surprised, Blaise?" asked Daphne. "It's Hari."
"True."
X
X
The next morning, the talk of the castle was the fact that Harry Potter had singlehandedly saved a student and killed a Mountain Troll. Even the Gryffindors had a hard time complaining—although most of the younger years voiced the opinion that it would have been nice if he'd waited until Granger had been killed before Hari got to the Troll.
Since classes had been canceled on the grounds that several Professors were busy tightening wards to prevent Trolls from wandering the halls and at least one classroom was currently under repair until such time as the minor flaw of a broken wall could be mended, Hari disappeared until lunch.
During that time, he was wandering the outside of the Astronomy Tower and found no less than seven secret passages that led to various parts of the dungeon. And one that led to the girl's side of the Slytherin dorms. He was pretty sure that wasn't supposed to happen, but since to find it, one needed to walk along the walls of a stone tower, he wasn't certain that it was something anyone else could find.
X
X
At lunch, Hari decided to try something new. So he sat down at the Hufflepuff table between several first years.
"What are you doing here?" asked the redhead he recalled being something like Bones. Her tone wasn't accusatory, just confused.
"In a few moments? Eating lunch."
"Yes," murmured her blonde friend. Priest something? "But I think what Susan was asking was why are you eating here?"
"Why not?"
"Because you're a Slytherin?" asked an older boy across the table.
"And?"
"So you're supposed to eat with them."
"Strangely enough, there aren't rules on that." Hari picked up his bowl of rice and began to eat. "So I thought I would see what it's like over here." He leaned back, balanced on the bench and sighed. Conversations started up around him and he enjoyed just letting them talk without even the chance of his involvement.
X
X
His afternoon was spent in a similar manner. He wondered what the giant pipe-tunnel behind a girl's bathroom was for, sealed with some sort of other-language password—snake? Didn't Uncle Pein speak snake?—but didn't find it interesting enough to try opening it. Instead, he found three routes from the dungeons to the kitchens, one of which led to the ovens. Hari wasn't sure about that. He got the feeling that it probably had ended in a corner or something originally.
X
X
At dinner, Hari was sitting with the group that had somehow ended up stuck as his friends. They were in the middle of a discussion of the house—specifically its lack of points and prospects for changing that state of affairs, when Hari suddenly stood up and trotted over to the double doors.
When they swung open, Hermione Granger found herself grabbed by the arm and towed to the Slytherin table. She was surprised to find that her feet really didn't touch the ground until she was standing in front of a bunch of green-trimmed people who looked even less happy to have her there than her yearmates in Gryffindor.
Pansy glared. "What's she doing here?"
Hermione looked at the hand holding her arm. "Loathe as I am to agree with Parkinson . . . I'm wondering the same thing."
"Oh, right." Hari pointed to Hermione. "You guys always get so difficult about wandless magic. I figured I'd show you her, since she can do it."
Hermione blinked.
"We discussed it yesterday, don't you remember?" Hari poked her forehead. "It's in there somewhere."
"You mean the accidental magic?"
"You blew up a bathroom."
"By accident."
"So? Now you just have to learn to do it on purpose."
"But I'd get in trouble for blowing up bathrooms!"
"Firstly, if I'm anything to judge by—"
"You aren't," chorused his friends.
"—then you wouldn't get points taken away, let alone anything else," Hari finished, ignoring the interruption. "Besides, I think you're taking my words too literally. I didn't mean that you should learn to blow up bathrooms, just not rely on silly bits of wood."
"But . . . but wands are—"
"Irrelevant, yes," interjected Hari. "Glad you agree. Now sit down and have dinner. Your first lesson is tonight in the common room, just after lights out."
"But . . . but . . ." Hermione was trying to pick a place to start. "But I'm in Gryffindor. You can't have lessons in the common room."
"Eh." Hari sat down and picked up his chopsticks. "That applies to other people. I'll see you after lights out."
Hermione threw her hands up and stormed off to the Gryffindor table.
"Why do you want to teach her?" asked Daphne.
"Really? Because I'm trying out a new teaching technique."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm going to ignore her objections and make her learn." Hari smiled at his friends. "If it works, I'll use it on you guys."
The others looked at each other and shared a shiver of dread.
"N-no need," said Pansy.
"You don't have to put yourself out," added Blaise.
"It's no trouble," replied Hari. He paused, eyes closed, and cocked his head. "Incoming."
Hermione stormed back over. "Will you teach me to fight?"
"What?" Hari's tone was surprised—something his friends had never heard before.
"Teach me strength. I'm tired of being picked on! I want power so no one can do that," she pointed at the Gryffindor table where the younger years were jeering and the older ones just looked confused and suspicious, "to me again!"
Hari shrugged. "Sure." He looked over at Tracy and Pansy. "Budge over."
"No!" snapped Pansy.
She was suddenly shunted over. "Wasn't asking."
Hermione sat slowly, a bit shell-shocked.
"That could be an issue," commented Hari, head to one side.
"Her sitting here?" grumbled Pansy.
"The redhead idiot is suggesting that your roommates throw you—or at the least, your things—out the window tonight."
"I hate Gryffindor," snarled Hermione. Tears began to form in her eyes. "I want out!"
Blaise smirked. "Spoken like a Slytherin."
Hari snapped his fingers. "That's an idea."
"What is?" Blaise sounded wary.
In answer, Hari waved his hand and the trim on Hermione's clothes shimmered, turning gold and red into silver and green. "Welcome to Slytherin, Granger."
Daphne blinked. "I don't think you can do that." Hermione nodded through her stunned look.
"Is this going to turn into another of those arguments where you tell me I can't do something and I do it?"
"No!" growled Hermione. "But you really can't change someone's house. Once the Sorting Hat Sorts someone, that's it! It's in the rules and everything!"
"Ten points to Hari Potter for his extension of interhouse friendship," called Dumbledore from the high table. "I'm sure Miss Granger will be happy in her new house."
"But . . . but . . ." Snape began.
"That's final, Severus," said Dumbledore. "The House Elves have already moved her things into the new dorm room."
Snape grinned broadly. "Maybe we'll actually have some points!" he crowed. "Or at least I'll have points to take from Potter." He began to dig into his food with greater enthusiasm as Minerva started to argue with Dumbledore to try and keep the single highest point-scorer in her house.
"That didn't just happen," declared Hermione.
"It did," replied Pansy in a dark tone. "An actual mudblood in the house. What is Hogwarts coming to?"
"Its senses?" asked Tracy. "She's top of our year—well, not counting Hari. But we don't count him for anything reasonable."
"You'll get used to it," Blaise took one of Hermione's hands from across the table and patted it. "I have a feeling you're getting sucked into Hari's orbit. Reality has only a vague relationship with him and we're on the outskirts of it."
"So lessons tonight," said Hari. "School work can wait."
"No it can't!"
"Wasn't a request."
"You're being awfully bossy today," commented Daphne.
"Normally I don't care enough. But I'm going to be teaching Granger wandless magic." He looked over at Hermione. "Once I break you of your habit of thinking books are all-knowing."
X
X
Hermione woke in her unfamiliar bed to Hari's face two inches from hers. Her shriek was muffled by his hand. It took her a minute to get her bearings and realize she was in her new bed in her new room in her new house, courtesy of Harry Potter. For some reason, his housemates all called him "Hari" if they called him anything other than muttered complaints.
"Common room in two minutes," he ordered. Then he was gone.
She decided it was a bad dream and rolled over. Two minutes later, her ankle was locked in a vise grip and she was dragged from her bed, down a hall, and into the Slytherin common room. She came to a halt, face stinging from its travel over a carpet, a stone corridor, and another carpet.
"Up we get." Hari's voice was amused.
Hermione sat up, clutching her nightclothes around her. "Am I going to find myself being mocked?" she growled.
"Nah." Hari was seated on the ground by the warm embers of the fire. "But you will be learning." He held up her wand. "Without this."
"Give that back!"
"Do you know what it is?"
"A wand!" Hermione tried to grab it and found that Hari was suddenly not in reach.
"Well yes," admitted Hari. "But do you know what a wand is?"
Hermione stopped her scramble, and entered into her discursive mode. "Vinewood and dragon heartstring. In the more general, a wand is a magical focus for much of the European magical community going back to the Roman conquest of the British Isles."
"Close." Hari smirked. "It's a symbol for a man's penis." He pointed to the wand. "It's a giant facsimile for the male genitalia. Grasping it is like grasping your magical cock and stroking it until magic ejaculates out the end. So tell me, Granger, I know you're a deviant, but do you want to be giving handjobs to your magic? Or do you want to learn to cast without a wand instead?"
Hermione's eyes were wide and her mouth was working, trying to get sound to come out. Finally, she managed. "WHAT?"
"Fine, fine," Hari said. "Let's set aside your sexual fantasies. Do you want to be holding a dick every time you cast a spell?" He was snickering. "Here, let me make it easier." The wood flowed and shifted until it was shaped like a graphically accurate dildo. "This is a wand, Granger. Do you want it back?" He tossed it to her and watched as she dodged instead. "No? Good. Let's begin." Her wand shifted back into its normal shape. "Sit."
Hermione glared at him. Then, slowly, she sat.
"I know you have a photographic memory, so whenever you think of using your wand, just remember what it's been." Hari smiled. "Good. Now, first thing I have to do is show you that books are wrong."
Hermione sighed. She'd been through too much in the last two days to bother keeping any remaining secrets from this crazy boy. "It's because of my memory. I remember every book I've read. What's the point of having them in my head if they're not right?"
"You grew up normal, right?" Hari asked.
"If by 'normal' you mean 'without magic', yes."
"Right, well I was doing some reading recently. And I came across some history books. You've studied science, right?" She nodded. "So tell me, how many things that were known turned out to be completely wrong in every respect." He watched as she mumbled to herself for almost five minutes. "I wasn't asking for a list, Granger." He smiled at her blush. "Can we say it's a non-zero number? Good. So let's accept that magical books are similar."
Hermione looked down. "So they're all wrong?"
"Well, I'm not sure about the Potions books. Just the stuff about needing wands, really." He pointed to a pebble on the carpet. "Levitate that. If you haven't managed it, I'm going to whack you with your wand." He smirked at her shudder. "Good. Begin."