Harry Potter: A Tale of Revenge

Or perhaps his own actions were affecting the path John was taking. Merlin knew he'd done plenty to stir his brother up. In fact, given all the shit he'd thrown at John, it would be far more shocking if it didn't affect him.

He stood for a few moments, lost in thought.

Oh, well. It wasn't as if this was going to change his behaviour towards John. It was highly unlikely that his influencing of Ginny or Hedwig or Hermione would make it less likely that John would happily help to throw him back in Azkaban.

Harry turned to his impromptu gym, made sure he'd not forgotten anything, and proceeded to make his way back up to the castle. Breakfast called.

...

"Stop, Potter!"

Harry dived around the next stone corner, whipped out the invisibility cloak and became as nothing.

Volf careened around the corner just behind him, wand out, and stopped dead, staring past him to the empty corridor that lay stretched before him.

Volf shook his head and muttered a curse under his breath.

Harry didn't move.

Eventually, after a few more obscenities about dirty, half-blood blood-traitors, the Slytherin duelling captain turned and made his way back the way he came.

Harry waited for a few moments, then whipped the cloak back off. He sighed. Why did Volf always pick the times he was in a rush for class to ambush him? Didn't the dick have classes of his own?

He made his way onwards to Transfiguration, sat a bench away from Daphne and Hermione, clocked in for attendance, cast his notice-me-not, and put his head in his arms. He yawned. Adrenaline and endorphins from exercise and being chased were slowly replaced by a sleepy full stomach from a hearty breakfast.

"Just thirty minutes," he half mumbled.

…

Sometime later, he woke from his power nap to find the class working on practical transfiguration. He cancelled the notice-me-not and conjured an exact copy of the matchbox scattered in front of the classes quicker students who'd already moved on from nails.

After a few minutes, Professor McGonagall stood in front of him. "Mister Potter?"

Harry looked up at the stern visage of Scottish witch. Her face radiated puzzlement.

"Yes, Professor?"

He fought back a yawn.

McGonagall stared for a few more moments before shaking herself. "Please attempt the transfiguration for me, Mister Potter."

He nodded, focused on an almost complete transfiguration form, and let his magic flow through his holly and phoenix feather wand and into his conjured box. The box shifted and became a snuff box - a snuff box made of cardboard.

McGonagall picked it up and inspected it. "A good try, Mister Potter. You just need to work on the feel of aluminium in your mind. But you've got the difficult bit done." She put the cardboard snuffbox back down on the desk. "It shouldn't be too much more effort for you to master this exercise now."

He nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall nodded back and moved on.

He yawned.

An indignant cry caught his attention.

He turned.

Hermione glared at Daphne's desk, frustration radiating off her in waves. McGonagall's sand timer sat between the two girls, flashing up a collection of numbers. He couldn't see Daphne's work from where he sat, but her half-smug expression suggested she'd just bested Hermione in some way.

Hermione hit the sand timer and waved her own wand.

Seconds ticked by.

Another wand hit and a new number shot from the timer.

Now Daphne looked annoyed and Hermione, smug.

He watched this back and forth for a few more minutes. The wand jabs got more pointed and the looks each girl shot the other got more determined. Glares became scowls, and smug looks were punctuated with crossed arms and fist pumps. They seemed not to notice him watching them. Their world seemed to consist of only their desks and each other.

Eventually, he noticed other students starting to stare.

Right. Time to intervene. He needed to message Hermione anyway. This seemed as good a time as any.

He pulsed magic into his lightning bolt ring.

Both girls froze.

He turned away from the girls to face the front of the classroom.

You look like you're having fun.

He glanced back around at them. Both their faces had gone slightly red.

Hermione,

Be ready to meet Lord Slytherin at the main entrance way at five o'clock today. Bring everything you need for a meeting with the Headmaster.

Daphne,

Not much longer.

Harry.

By the time he'd finished his Morse code message, many of the other students were wrapping up their attempts and putting their books away.

He felt two separate sets of buzzes on his finger, each separated from the other by the magic of the ring.

Yes, Harry.

Yes, Harry.

....

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