Author's Note: This week is cool! I'll have Monday, Thurday, Friday, and Saturday as holidays! Happy Easter, guys! I think I'll use this chance to get the sleep I so desperately need. He3x
There are some time jumps and places in this chapter.
In the not-so-smallest-anymore bedroom in Privet Drive 4 a figure entered the room and sat on the bed settled in the corner of the room. Various books were scattered on the room. On the bed, on the floor, on the table and some were even hovering in the air as if bound by some invisible strings. Books ranging from thin book that only have few pages, good for fanning when the temperature was hot, to thick books that held thousands pages, which could be deadly when thrown to someone in the head, were laid haphazardly by the owner.
The owner of those books was a 16 years old young man…who looked 2 years younger from his real age because of malnutrition he suffered under his uncaring relatives. The figure's body was healthier than ever though, and it was thanks to the nutrition potion he successfully made and drank since 4 days ago. Unfortunately for the young man, the potion tasted… revolting. A characteristic every potion had, sadly. And to make the matter worse, the man had to drink it once in 2 days for the next 2 months.
The dark haired figure cursed the wizards' and witches' for mixing such foul tasted ingredients that made the mix even fouler. He remembered the first time he drank the potion he almost vomited. What a medicine! Curing something only to have a case of stomachache.
The figure fixed his round glasses to reveal his emerald green eyes. His face was unreadable when he read the newspaper on his hand. It had a pretty severe burn, though not all of it was burnt. He still could read half of the first page. His attention wasn't directed to the moving pictures on the paper, but rather on the headline of one of the few saved-from-fire articles.
Boy-Who-Lived Is Deranged!
The young man, who was actually the very one it talked about, frowned and seethed. He had received the paper just today from his snowy owl, given to him by his red head employees.
He read it once more and for the second time almost blown Privet Drive 4 in a fit of rage, but he managed to tone it down. He had blown up his lab in his fit of rage just minutes ago, after he first read it. Not because of accidental magic. Oh nooo, not because of that. It was because he was currently making a…highly volatile potion. Or at least what he thought would be a dangerous potion because of the ingredients he used. He was in an enlarged storeroom in Dursley's backyard when he first received the paper. It was where he experimented, trying to make new potions and sometimes potions he already knew about.
Harry caught the lung of salamander a mere inches from the bubbling cauldron and breathed a sigh of relief, before he went back gritting his teeth, watching the article laying on the table.
He'll show them deranged!
And why the hell they repeat the same action as last year anyway?
Don't they have something else better to do?
He turned angrily, slapping an opened vial of phoenix blood on his way. Eyes widened in morbid realization, he quickly grabbed the vial and put it back on the table, but there were already some droplets of blood dropped to the cauldron. His heart raced, hoping that it wouldn't create a potion accident. No such look! The potion was bubbling dangerously, as if it would blow up in any second.
"Uh-Oh," the dark haired young man quickly sprinted toward the door, the bottle was forgotten on the table. He slammed it close and quickly ducked behind a nearby tree. Two seconds later the roof of the storeroom was blown up. The young wizard thanked his silent and illusion charms so that no neighbour heard or saw the explosion.
Harry sighed and walked back to the room. He peeked from the door, analyzing the situation. After deeming that it was safe, he entered it. The room was a mess. The wall was scorched and half of the roof was blown up. There was no trace of table. And he couldn't recognize a single ingredient he put on the room as most of them turned into charcoal. Harry looked at the sky from the hole in the roof. A chunk of wood dropped to the floor with a loud thunk and a burnt paper was laying on the ground. He quickly extinguished the fire with his foot.
His rare phoenix blood was gone without trace. And his note of the progress of the potion he was trying to create was burned to crisp, leaving only ashes mixed with other things' ashes. "Aw man," he groaned dejectedly and rubbed his head.
Today really wasn't his day.
0-0 0-0 0-0
The headline for the newspaper 5 days after the potion accident was really different. On it, it was said that he was the so-called Chosen One who had a destiny to go against Volde—Pardon, You-Know-Who. Even until this time they weren't able to utter his name. Then again, it wasn't his true name. And they expected him to just go and risk his life for them who preferred to sit on their comfortable couch and watched him battle Voldemort?
Not a chance!
If they didn't have the initiative to stand up for themselves first he would stay idle too. Well, not exactly idle because he was itching to make those Voldemort's boot lickers' lives miserable. In discreet of course.
Harry fingered a glass bottle with affection. It was truly his masterpiece. He had never expected to see his ruined potion 5 days ago could be turned into a black powder with deadly power like this. He admitted that that day wasn't actually bad at all. It was exhilarating.
Although he had to admit that it was also an accident that made him realize the true property of the ash. An accident that made him unconscious for a day. After that he experimented with the powder.
The ingredients of it, especially the phoenix blood, made the substance on his table as the equivalent of a magical bomb that would be able to disrupt wards and destroyed anything physical in the process, provided they used the right amount.
He knew this after he experimented with a pinch of it in his rebuilt potion lab. The enchantments he put on the room were destroyed along with the potion ingredients he put there. Thankfully this time they were easier to replace, as he put the rare and expensive ingredients in another room and he wasn't worse to wear, as he was able to escape when the room was blown up. Remus and others were forced to obliviate muggles who had seen the explosion.
Harry went back to his potion afterwards, not even traumated by the accident, much to the ire of the order members. Why should he? He had more dangerous killing attempts or merely attempts to discredit him than just a potion incident. They could shove a stick on their asses for all he cared. He sent some of the powder he managed to collect (as he couldn't salvage all of them because most of them were either scattered by the wind, banished using cleaning charm, or sweep off by broom when he cleaned his lab already by the time he realized its capacity) to the twins for experiment. After a week of no sleep, asking Lee Jordan to replace them to guard their store, and few explosions on their lab later, they managed to recreate the recipe for 'that' with Harry's help. It would be faster if his note weren't burn to crisp. After that incident, Harry wrote at least 2 journals for safe-keeping. They even managed to improve the powder's capability.
Harry wondered if Neville's ruined potions could be turned as deadly weapons too.
Problem was the first step to create the substance was blowing the potion up just like Harry had done (accidentally) to it. And so they had to do it in a remote place. He was thankful for apparation.
Hedwig settled down on her perch and hooted.
"Hey girl, any news for me?" he petted his pet after setting down the bottle carefully on a hole beneath a hidden tile. There was no point being careless and blowing up his room (and with him along). The snowy owl hooted, enjoying the attention she got from her master.
Harry laid on his bed, leaning on the pillows and continued his reading. His owl settled on the edge of one of his pillow. With a flick of his wrist, his wand emitted a soft glow and the messy room was tidy. Books strewn on the floor flew inside his trunks in which all of his unread books were placed. His quill, pens, papers, parchments and O.W.L's result was placed neatly on the writing desk. His newspapers were arranged in a stack in the corner of the room.
He loved being emancipated.
0-0 0-0 0-0
Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Right now Harry was in Hogwarts Express, waiting the time to go back to his school.
Harry yawned tiredly when the door to his compartment was opened by none other than his annual visitor, Draco Malfoy. Before the ferret even able to plaster a sneer on his face or open his mouth, Harry blasted him off to the metal wall of the train corridor silently and knocked him unconscious. A few well-picked words and hexes to the dumb and dumber made even their pea sized brain realized that their presences weren't appreciated there. They scurried off, picking their leader from the floor.
Five minutes later Hermione and Ron entered the compartment. The red head quickly commented when he saw a book on Harry's hands.
"Ow man, don't tell me you're turning into Hermione. One is already enough," he groaned.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" the only female in the room growled. The red head quickly shut his mouth. "So Harry, I hope you're sleeping well," she started.
"As well as I can be. At least no more nightmare or vision."
"I heard that professor Dumbledore bring you to meet with our newest teacher. Do you know who he is?"
"Oh, he asked me, but I refused. I have much better thing to do other than following him like sick puppy only to see a teacher that I will surely meet later in Hogwarts," his friends frowned. Hermione in particular was refraining from scolding him for some reason.
"So you don't know who it is?" Ron continued.
"Only that it is a 'he', and his name is associated with something like 'Slug'," his bushy haired friend made a face. "Yeah, he indeed has a weird name."
"So, how's it like being emancipated?" Ron interrogated. "Man, you're so lucky," he groaned.
"Honestly Ron, you'll be emancipated too this year. So no need to complain," the female one scolded. "And Harry can you keep our things? We have to go to prefect meeting," she pleaded.
"Sure," she muttered a quick 'thanks' and dragged Ron along.
"See you later, Harry!" Harry nodded and went back to his reading.
Ten minutes later Neville entered the compartment followed by Luna 2 minutes later. Harry joked a bit with the two and thanked them for being there with him in the department of mysteries.
"Why don't you ask him?" there were giggles outside their room. A second later a girl from lower year entered with her friends, giggling while they watched the dark haired wizard who raised his eyebrow at their presences.
"Hi, Harry, may I call you Harry?" she asked sweetly. Her friends giggled.
"…Yes?" he asked warily, wondering if they were sane.
"We're wondering if you want us to accompany you," she eyed the nervous Neville and the hazy eyed Luna mockingly. "Not with these sort of people," she added with a fake smile.
Harry's neutral face turned into a frown. "Well this sort of people are my friends. You get a problem with that?" he challenged. The girl and her friends flushed.
"Uh, no, no, I don't have a problem with that. Well, I guess we'll be going right now," they quickly exited the place as quickly they entered it.
"T-thanks for defending us, Harry," Neville stuttered.
"No problem. She's a bit too…giggly for my taste anyway," the young man waved him off. "And who the hell she is, anyway?" Harry said, not even remembered if he ever saw her in Hogwarts before.
"Uhum…thanks too, Harry," Luna smiled though her eyes still had the faraway look.
"…You're welcome," he didn't know what to say to her.
"So Harry, are you going to continue Dumbledore's Army?" the green thumb owner asked.
"Defense Association?" Harry asked, correcting the name. Neville raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "It doesn't seem so," Neville looked deflated. "Why?"
"It's just I feel better when we were training. I felt my confidence were built during that term."
Harry was silent for a moment before he opened his mouth, "Sorry, but the DA isn't going to be continued, except of course if headmaster hires another fool to teach us and we'll be better off without that teacher. I do however in need of help for my special projects in this year."
"Special projects?" his ears perked up.
Harry nodded. "Yep, ones that will need your expertise in herbology," then he smirked mischievously, "How's it? Are you interested?"
"Er…it's not going to put me into trouble, right?" he asked cautiously.
"Only if we're caught," the dark haired wizard grinned.
"We're doing something illegal?" the herbology genius's eyes bugged out.
"We? So you already agree to join me? Great!" Neville opened his mouth, but Harry cut him off. "Oh and it's not illegal, just…dangerous. Which means we can't screw up or the legal status will be truly changed into illegal and we will have biiig trouble," Neville swallowed. He was gonna die! He was still too young!
"Oh come on, Nev, don't make a face as if the world will come to an end," the older boy (only by a day) glared. "Beside we have experts to help us!"
"Yup. The twins will help our projects!" All blood was drained from Neville's face, as his only hope was crushed.
"Can I join your club?" Luna looked at Harry.
"Sure, why not?"
"I heard that you'll need twins to attract moon bunnies, perhaps I can borrow them sometime?"
Both boys looked at her and then at each other in silence.
"Great!" she shouted cheerfully. Harry was starting to think that perhaps it was a bad idea.
0-0 0-0 0-0
"So you're using your status as a celebrity to enter Slughorn's club, Potter?" a platinum haired boy sneered. A red head was being held by a dark haired boy and a brown haired girl to stop him from attacking the arrogant boy right there.
"Celebrity? How…quaint," the dark haired student smirked. "And I'm not interested to join Sluggy Club so I turn down the invitation, but if you're jealous I can set up a meeting with Slughorn for you," he said cheekily. "Though I doubt he'll let you enter his club, with your criminal father and all."
Malfoy glared angrily. "Watch your back, Potter. Because the dark lord is watching you," he hissed, changing his tactic, as he passed Harry in the corridor.
Harry lifted an eyebrow. His friends stepped beside him. "Why, thank you, Malfoy. I don't know you care about my well-being."
"Actually I'm curious about something, you know. Just what is it you're trying to fix in Borgin and Burkes that you find it so important? You even threatened him to do it fast." he watched as Malfoy went pale. Ron and Hermione looked up in question, but he ignored them as he continued watching the blond.
"W-what? The-How-You," he stuttered. "That's not your fucking business, Potter!"
"Well guess what? I'm making it my business. Afterall I can't very well pass out a chance to make your life miserable, can I?" he asked him mockingly. His best friends were watching him like he had grown a new set of head. "Tut, tut, tut," he waved his finger when he saw Malfoy's face became purple, ready to explode. "You better watch your temper, or your hair will soon go gray."
The blonde young man glowered angrily. "It's not over yet, Potter!" he walked away angrily, followed y his idiot goons.
Harry watched them with a smirk. "Interesting," he muttered.
"Interesting?" Hermione asked him angrily. "How can you say it interesting? Harry, you just provoke Malfoy!"
Harry looked at her questioningly. "So?" as if he didn't understand why she was angry.
"ARRGGH! I can't believe you!" she stomped away.
Ron tapped his shoulder. "Good job, mate."
"Though I don't understand why you find it interesting."
"Because Malfoy had just confirmed that whatever he had ordered Borgin to fix was very important. At least to him, anyway. The twins told me about his escapade in Knockturn and Fred followed him. At first I thought it wasn't really significant event, but his reaction told me the opposite."
"Reaction? You mean his anger? It was wicked how you made him riled up over a few sentences."
"No, not anger," the red head looked up quizzically. "Fear and anxiety. His eyes showed fear when I said it. That's why I think we need to investigate it more. Whatever his plan is, I doubt it'll be good for us. If we can't use the normal way to retract the information, we'll just need another not so normal way, but actually pretty common."
"Either screwing with his mind, blackmail, or violence," the son of James Potter smirked maliciously.
"Bloody hell!" the red head exclaimed as he stared in disbelief at Harry.
0-0 0-0 0-0
"WELCOME, TO THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS!" Harry opened his hands wide as he introduced them to the dreary looking dungeon. Burning torches were illuminating the huge space.
There was deep silence as the other four were looking around them. Each had different reactions. Luna looked thoughtful. Neville looked around him uncertainly. Ron was shivering in fright, thinking about how many spiders in the dank place, while Hermione didn't seem impressed.
"Is there anything else you want us to know, Harry? Aside from giving us a tour on a dingy wet place, asking us to track through all those rubbles, in a place full of bones of dead mice, or to see a dead basilisk, no matter how big it was?" she asked sarcastically.
"Why Hermione, this will be our new base!" he laughed proudly.
Hermione's eyes twitched as she looked at the dark ceiling and then at the corpse of the basilisk. "Our base?"
"We have a base before this?" Ron asked stupidly.
"What base?" Neville asked dreadfully. He knew he shouldn't join him.
"Emm, perhaps I can find Crumpled Horned Snorkack here," Luna muttered wistfully. The others ignored her.
"Yes, our base. We have a base before, the room of requirement, remember? It is no longer safe since the slytherin already knew about it though if we have a way to secure it, it will be nice. And it will be our base where we can plot many plans to make the lives of death eaters and Voldemort as miserable as we can, which, I tell you, isn't really difficult."
"You want us to fight them outright?" Ron shrieked. "They'll outnumber us!"
"Yes, we'll fight them, Ron, but not outright. That will be suicidal, even for me, no matter how much knowledge I get from Sirius. I want to make those death eaters miserable discreetly. Yes, Neville, it means Bellatrix too," there was a weird glint in his eyes when he said her name.
"I don't think it's gonna work, Harry. We're just children," the bushy haired girl told him skeptically.
"We're teenager, Hermione, not children. There are differences. And we won't know unless we try it," he pointed out.
"Oh fine," she threw her hands. "But if it fails, I'll be the first one to tell you 'I told you so'."
"Fine by me as long as you help us. And what about you?" he looked at the other three.
"Well I guess I should join this. I mean I don't want to be excluded of this plan," Ron shrugged.
"Give me Bellatrix and I'm in," Neville glowered.
Harry shrugged. "Sure, but give me a piece of her. I want to make her pay for killing Sirius too," the owner of green thumb finger nodded with a smirk. To hell with regulation if he could make that bitch pay.
"I wouldn't want to pass this chance," Luna smiled.
"A question. You're not going to use this place," Hermione threw him a look, "as a planning room only, right?" The chamber was big afterall.
"Of course not. We can also make this into dueling room, laboratory, chess room, green house, or library."
"Er, no offense Harry, but a green house in basement?" Neville asked incredulously.
"A library in this wet and dingy place?" the books would be damaged.
"A chess room in this cold place?" Ron rubbed his arms to keep warm.
"A laboratory? How nice!" the Ravenclaw girl wondered if she could continue her mother's work.
"That's why we need to clean and fix it up," Harry gave them a mischievous grin.
There was a collective groan from all present.
That wasn't there anywhere on their agendas.
At last chapter 2 is finished. Hopefully you'll like it. If not…well that's your own problem.