1,160CHAPTER 1: Out of the Shadows (Part 1)
The Room of Requirement
September 10th, 1995
2:50 p.m.
Harry smirked as he released his wand from his arm holster, it slid down his forearm and into the palm of his hand. He closed his hand around the 12 1/2'', made out of sycamore wood and powered by a dragon heart-string core - it was perfect. He was a powerful wizard, he'd known it before he even attended Hogwarts, back when he used to have his bouts of accidental magic which caused cataclysmic events were proof enough of that. However, it wasn't until after he acquired his wand from Ollivander's on that fateful August afternoon that he realised just how powerful he could be. The wand was his perfect lightning rod, channelling his magic in ways he'd never even imagined were possible.
His eyes roamed the scenario the room had created in front of him, it was the street of Privet Drive. He knew every nook, cranny, and crevice of it, the many times he had been forced to participate in Dudley's famed Harry Hunts made it impossible for him not to. He could see two of the Death Eaters in front of him, and knew that the other three must be surrounding him - one at each side, and the last one from behind.
The Room of Requirement had become one of the most useful assets inside the whole castle, the room had literally everything and anything he could ever want, all just a thought away. It had been a gift from Remus Lupin, his third year DADA professor. It took just three months before Harry pieced out that the man had lycanthropy, and Harry didn't hesitate to use that knowledge against him, not after the prejudiced way he acted with the Slytherins, and most notably with him. Remus was a poor man, his shabby clothes spoke to that, but Harry knew that the most powerful thing in the world was knowledge.
Some people would call it blackmail, personally, he saw it as survival, either way, he didn't care. He received not only the location and directions for the magical room inside Hogwarts, but also managed to force the Professor to revoke the Marauder's Map from the Weasley twins and hand it over to him. Remus had looked furious, and slightly betrayed, but in the end, he did what he was told, and Harry thanked him with a large grin.
After that, he'd been smart - he'd sent it off with David, the snowy owl he got for himself on his first trip to Diagon Alley, to his room at the Dursley's, where it stayed hidden for the rest of the term and the summer. Lupin and several other teachers had searched both him and his dormitory, but since the map was nowhere to be found, it ended up being Harry's word against Remus'. It wasn't until fourth-year, when Lupin had left, that he brought back the map to the school.
With the help of the Room of Requirement, he finally managed to start a proper training on duelling, rather than the rubbish Lockhart had promoted in his second year. Without the incompetent teacher, he'd managed to progress a lot. After almost two years of non-stop training in the subject, he was sure he could beat every seventh-year in the school at the moment. He'd also found that he loved duelling, loved the thrill and adrenaline it brought to him - it was like playing a game of life and death, and he was all in.
The room had other uses too, it served as his own personal library with every book he could picture at his disposal, as well as a place where he could practice for subjects like Potions. But most of all, it had become his home away from home, the only place where he wouldn't be bothered by irritating conversations with the other Slytherins or even worse, having to deal with The Boy Who Lived.
Suddenly, one of the Death Eaters dashed forward and attacked, while the other boosted himself into the air, easily landing on one of the roof before sending a couple of curses his way. However, Harry didn't focus on those two, they were clearly a distraction. Instead, he rolled to his side and avoided the spell that came from behind him. At a speed that would surprise even the likes of Dumbledore, he turned around and sent a barrage of four non-verbal spells at his attacker.
The first two were normal curses that were easily blocked, but after all, that was their purpose. The third one was an uncommon spell for duelling, an idea he got from one of the Weasley twins' pranks. The moment the spell was blocked, it exploded, creating extremely loud sounds and a black fog that blinded the Death Eater completely - making him the ideal target for the stunning charm that was right behind the other spell.
"Come on! I know you're dummies, but surely you can do better than that!"
A rain of spells assaulted him, forcing Harry to run across the street and take cover behind one of the fences from the neighbour's house. He steadied himself for a second before leaving his cover, aiming three blasting curses to the roof where the Death Eater had jumped on, hitting them perfectly but just as he was about to fall, the man apparated away.
"Now that's just cheating," Harry grumbled. For some reason, the dummies could apparate inside the room, but he couldn't. Granted, he still wasn't perfect with apparating, but his self-study on the subject had brought him so far, and he had only started at the end of last year. In a month, he'd be able to fully apparate… but not inside this room.
Stupid room.
Feeling a presence from behind, he turned around and cast a lasso from his wand. It hit its target just where he wanted to, tying itself around the Death Eater's left leg before Harry transfigured it to be made out of fire. He pulled at it, completely burning through the bone and essentially amputating his attacker and sending him straight to the floor. Not wanting to waste any more time with him, a couple of expulso curses got the job down, but sent fake blood flying everywhere.
The first time it had happened, Harry had freaked out. Not just because he was drenched in blood, something that wouldn't look good for when he had to leave the room, but the sheer shock traumatised him for a couple of days. Now, though? Now he knew to cast his clothes with the impervius and continue.
Two down, three to go.
One of the things he hated (and loved at the same time) was how the dummies evolved and improved with every round, and by this point, they all knew how to work as a team perfectly. Which is why when one suddenly apparated right in front of him, Harry ducked before casting an extremely powerful cutting charm, slashing at the legs of the Death Eaters as he turned his body around and hit the one who had apparated right behind him.
He could still remember how much the hit at such a close distance had felt when he fell for that attack a few days ago. Even though the room didn't allow the dummies to cast any lethal charms, they still left plenty of bruises and light cuts all over him.
The two figures dropped to the ground in pain, but one of them aimed his wand at him. Harry jumped over it before grabbing it and aiming it at the other. The blasting curse hit the fellow Death Eater right in his face, sending him tumbling backwards. He cast an expulso curse right behind his head, completely shattering it, before aiming his wand at the other and repeating the process.
Harry gasped for air, but unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to rest, as he had to jump out of the way of another series of curses aimed at him. Rolling on the ground, he managed to stand and jump, using his wand to impulse himself over the ground and over the roof of the Dursley's home.
Having the vantage point was just what Harry needed, as he spotted the final dummy right in the middle of the street - but he couldn't act on this knowledge given the fact that he had to continue avoiding the spells. Managing to block two that would've gotten him, Harry kept running before jumping towards the ground, casting a spell on the pavement that gave it the properties of a trampoline for a small window of time, which was just what he needed to bounce his way out of the spells and began falling right towards where the final Death Eater was standing.
He blocked a couple of curses mid-air before he began to send his own, sending the dummy into the defensive as it had to step backwards and block at the same time. The last ones were always the hard ones, much to his annoyance.
None of his spells hit, and he was forced to stop his attack to land safely on the ground, and his attacker used it at his chance to press his advantage. Harry was once again forced to dodge and divert the upcoming spells, not having any moment to do anything else. When he finally couldn't take it anymore, he fully dropped his shield and sent out two curses, hitting the other two that the dummy had sent a couple of seconds later, creating a concussive blast which disoriented his opponent temporarily.
Harry took his chance and didn't hesitate as he cast a combination of blasting and expluso curses at the dummy, finally beating it.
"Is that all you got?" Harry yelled, slightly out of breath as he slumped on the ground.
It seemed the room didn't approve of his little display as, suddenly, another five Death Eaters appeared in front of him, ready to attack.
"No! Stop! Stop! Stop! I was just kidding!" Harry shouted, conjuring a white flag out of his wand and waiving it. Thankfully, the room seemed to have taken mercy on him and removed the new dummies, though Harry could feel it laughing at him.
"You know, you can be such an arse sometimes." He felt as the room kept laughing, and Harry grumbled to himself.
Now, some people would call him crazy, and he wouldn't exactly disagree with them - maybe he was crazy. But he'd always felt as if the room had some sort of mind or soul or something, as if it was alive and had a conscience or something. He wouldn't believe it if he hadn't experienced it, but somehow, he didn't doubt it for a second. The room was alive, and a snarky minx too.
"Why don't you make yourself useful and show me the time?"
Silence.
"Fine, be that way! This is why we can't have nice things!"
He cast a quick tempus charm, ignoring whatever the room was trying to convey to him, before he suddenly jumped up.
"Shit!" Harry summoned his bag and books, which were at the other side of the room, as the arena slowly turned back to normal. The books fixed themselves up and tucked themselves inside the bag mid-air, leaving everything perfect for him just when he grabbed it.
"Yes! Yes! I'll come back later!" He shouted as he ran towards the wall besides the door. "But now, I'm going to be late, give me a mirror!"
A large, full-body mirror appeared the second the words left his mouth, and Harry inspected himself on it. His cheeks were flushed, his glasses hanging slightly loose, and his previously well-groomed hair was now its usual mess. He buttoned the two buttons on top before straightening his emerald tie.
"Alright, I'm going to need-" Before he could finish, the mirror shrunk so that it only showed from his chest up and a small lavatory seemingly grew from the wall, a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion ready for him. "Thanks, I'm also going to need-" A toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash appeared. "And-" A deodorant and perfume materialized as well. "Will you marry me?"
Harry spent the next five minutes quickly fixing himself up to look perfect. His hair was slicked back, for now at least, he would run his hand through it every once in a while for the next half hour to give it a more natural look. Teeth washed and his body no longer smelling of sweat and exercise, Harry allowed himself to smile at his appearance.
"How do I look?"
The room's answer came in the form of a large paper bag with two holes cut in it.
"Right," Harry sighed. "Why do I even bother? Just leave me at the closest empty corridor to the Defence classroom, will you?"
Even though he knew the hallway was empty, Harry double-checked before fully stepping out of the room. Turning right, he could see a small group of third-years making their way towards him, all of them muttering about the three same things every student at Hogwarts was talking about nowadays - Umbridge, Neville, and the Ministry.
It was constant, and every time he heard it, Harry wanted to grab his wand and shoot himself with whatever curse would give him the most brain damage. Everyone always yapped about the Great Neville Longbottom, the daring Bow Who Lived, the saviour of the wizarding world - it was sickening. After all, he was nothing more than a mediocre, lazy arse who was only getting through Hogwarts because he'd managed to befriend Hermione Granger and somehow convince her to help him and his best friend, Weasley, to help them out with everything.
Harry had heard the rumours concerning those three, of course, and he'd seen Neville perform in the Triwizard Tournament last year - but all it showed was just how lucky Longbottom was. There was no ounce of skill, cleverness, or cunning to it, it was pure luck and everyone was bending over backwards for him. At least, that was the case before this year.
He would be lying to himself if he didn't enjoy the Wizarding World turning against their hero, though it was for all the wrong reasons, that didn't matter. Seeing Longbottom finally be exempt from all the excuses and favouritism was something he would gladly pay for to be a permanent situation.
That didn't mean that Harry didn't agree with him at this moment, anyone with a brain knew that Voldemort was back, pretty much every Slytherin knew it - though there was an obvious unspoken rule to talk about it or confirm it. Only the mindless followers of the Ministry and Daily Prophet would think Longbottom was lying about that, unfortunately that made up most of the wizarding population in Britain.
Voldemort's return was one of the reasons why he had been training much harder ever since the term began, the world was only hanging by a thread and, unlike Longbottom, he didn't have the same luck or preferential treatment. Everything he was and everything he had was because he had earnt it.
Entering the room, Harry took his usual spot at the back of the class on the Slytherin side. Everyone was already there, Draco was sitting in the middle of his two gorillas with Daphne behind them, accompanied by her two puppies as well. Blaise and Theo were behind them, the two sitting close together as they discussed something in almost inaudible voices. And finally, there was-
"Aren't you bright and early, Potter?"
"Parkinson," He replied coldly as he sat down. "I know you don't have any friends, but that doesn't mean you can sit with me."
She snorted. "Who needs friends?"
"Exactly," Harry replied, a theatrical smile on his face. "Now scram."
"Trust me, Potter, you'd be the last guy in the world I'd want to hang out with. I need a favour."
Harry abruptly stopped from unpacking his bag and looked up. "Those don't come cheap."
"Good thing I'm rich, then."
"What do you want?"
"Umbridge's essays."
"Really?" He scoffed.
"They're easy, I know, but such a bore." She rolled her eyes. "I have better things to do with my time."
"Fifty galleons, each."
"Sure, why don't I give you my family's mansion as well?"
"You're the one who wants this, not me."
"Twenty galleons."
"Forty."
"I could just ask someone else. You're not the only one who sells homeworks for a living."
"No, but I'm the best one." He grinned at her. "Forty-five."
Pansy glared at him, but he could tell she was considering it.
"Thirty-five," she finally said. "Take it, otherwise I'll go to someone else - I don't care how shitty the essay ends up being."
Harry stared at her eyes, she wasn't bluffing. "Deal. I assume you did the one due today. I'm good, but even I can't pull an essay out of my arse in two minutes."
"Of course I did," she twirled her wand and three parchments flew out of her bag and into her hand.
Harry raised an eyebrow at her.
"What?" She smirked. "You can't do non-verbal?"
"We're not supposed to be able to, at least not until the end of next year."
"Aww," She patted his cheek. "How cute."
Harry slapped her hand away. "So what? You're an expert now?"
"Of course not, just a couple spells that I've nailed down. Here," She gave him her essay before focusing on her nails. "Check it, will you."
"You want to waste thirty-five galleons like that?"
"Oh, you're not charging me for this. Let's call it a professional courtesy, I want to see if you're as good as you claim."
"Fine," Harry gritted out before focusing on the paper.
Pansy was right about something, Umbridge's essays were a bore. Completely useless and unnecessarily long, it was pretty much copying what the book said and writing it down verbatim on the parchment. Still, he checked it as if it was one of his normal jobs. He was actually surprised by Pansy's prose. The essay flowed well and had the content Umbridge asked, it was almost perfect. She was a smart girl, the smartest behind Granger, and it showed. Harry had no idea why Parkinson would want him to do her homework, she was smart enough to know he was ripping her off and smart enough to get an Outstanding - and he didn't buy for a second that she didn't want to do it because she thought herself above it.
"Here," he said as he invited her to his side. "These paragraphs, take them out. They're useless and will do nothing but cost you your O."
"Why?" She snatched the parchment out of his hand. "These are correct."
"But they contradict the book."
"I don't give a shit if they contradict the book, this is correct and anyone with knowledge on Defence would know this."
"Yes, but Umbridge doesn't want the correct answer, she wants her answer."
"But it's-"
"Look, I don't give a shit what you do, Parkinson." Harry snapped. "Just don't blame me when she gives you a D."
Pansy shut her mouth before looking at him with distaste. "You know, you would actually be slightly likeable if you weren't such an arsehole."
Harry stared back, choosing not to reply.
"What are you two lovebirds talking about?" Draco mocked them as he loomed above his desk.
"Oh great, more guests. Please, stay, why don't I give you my chair while I'm at it."
"Always so territorial, Potter, you're kind of like a dog."
"Really? You're one to talk, you look like a blond weasel who fell on a vat of hair gel. And why are you people coming over to my desk!?"
"What's going on here?" Daphne asked as she, Theo, and Blaise joined them.
"Ugh!" Harry dropped his head on the table.
"Don't know, that's what I'm asking."
"None of your business, Draco."
"Are you sure you two can be here?" Harry interjected. "Won't your pets get lonely?"
"They'll manage." Malfoy deadpanned.
"Are we talking about Umbridge?" Theo asked.
"Did you guys do her essay? God, it was awful. I was sure Lockhart's quiz would be the worst assignment we'd ever get in this class."
"It wasn't that bad-"
"Are you kidding, Daphne? I fell asleep like twice while doing it."
"You guys are complaining about the essay? The classes are much worse. All she does is make us read!"
"Blaise, we've all seen you sleeping rather than actually reading."
"I mean, yes, but that doesn't mean the class is any better."
"I'm surrounded by morons," Harry said to himself, rubbing his temples.
"What are you on about now?" Daphne asked.
"Look, Umbridge is going to come back any second. So why don't you four go to your own desks, and we can talk about this later. In fact, we can even set a time for it so that I make sure I'm not there for it."
"Shut up, Potter."
"Malfoy, get out-"
"I said shut up!" He snapped before motioning towards the Gryffindor side.
Neville, Hermione, and Ron were huddled in the corner, it seemed that Hermione are Ron were trying to convince Neville about something.
"What do you think they're saying?" Asked Pansy.
"Probably trying to force him not cause another scene with Umbridge."
"Doesn't Longbottom understand that Umbridge wants him to do that?"
"He's an idiot."
"They all are."
"Can we stop talking about Neville bloody Longbottom!?" Harry bit out.
"I never thought I'd see the day," Malfoy laughed. "Harry Potter, jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
"Oh, please."
"I'm not! I'm just sick and tired of constantly hearing Neville Longbottom this and Neville Longbottom that. What's so bloody special about him!?"
"Ummm… mate, what rock have you been living under."
"Oh, you know what I mean!"
Before anyone could say anything else, the door opened loudly and Umbridge strutted in, walking towards her desk as everyone quickly sat on their respective desks. The toad-faced woman turned towards them, her sickly sweet smile ever present as she summoned all the essay from everyone.
"Now, children, open your copy of Dark Arts Defence – Basics for Beginners and read chapter three. If you finish the chapter before the period is over, you are to re-read it from the start. Any questions? No? Good. Begin."
Harry grudgingly opened the book, but couldn't get himself to begin reading. Draco had been right earlier, he was jealous - of course he was. Who wouldn't be. Neville bloody Longbottom. Perfect Neville. Daring Neville. The most eligible bachelor of the wizarding world and everything a guy should be. He was sick of it, all the praises sung for a mediocre wizard.
For the past five years, he'd stayed out of the spotlight, and it was by choice. It was the Slytherin thing to do, it was how you survived, under the radar. There was a reason why he never told people what he did on his spare time, why he didn't brag about his many skills, why he purposefully tanked his performance to stay on the average end. The biggest threat is the one you don't even know exists until it's too late.
But now, he wanted more.
Fuck being in the shadows, fuck letting everyone grab the spotlight, fuck not reaping the rewards of everything he'd sowed. It was stupid, it was the bloody Gryffindor side the hat had warned him about, but at this point, he didn't care anymore. He would prove himself, it was time the world learnt the name of Harry James Potter.