Harry Potter's revenge

Later next day, Dumbledore sat at his large polished oak desk in the headmaster's office and stared at a collection of parchments clutched in his hands. Lord Slytherin, it turned out, would go to great lengths to protect Miss Granger and Miss Greengrass.

Most of the Slytherin students had basic occlumency shields and he hadn't been able to see much of what happened in the Slytherin common room last night, but what he had been able to piece together painted a picture of a man who was unafraid to use fear and pain as a deterrent.

Three points in particular stood out as high emotion moments in the minds of the few students he'd explored. The first was shock when Miss Granger and Miss Greengrass performed wandless magic to stun one of their attackers. That was something to think about. The second was surprise turning slowly to fear and awe when Lord Slytherin flared his magic for over a full minute. He couldn't feel the magic through the memory, but if the looks of the other students were to go by, it was strong. And the third had been sheer terror when Slytherin tortured Romulus Volf with legilimency. That was extremely worrying, both for Slytherin's ruthlessness and for the nature of the method itself. He'd long ago ruled out the possibility of Lord Slytherin being Lord Voldemort, but that didn't make the situation much more comforting. Slytherin's legilimency attack was exactly the kind of thing Voldemort would have done. Tom was almost certainly the foremost expert on the mind arts in the entire world, and, at least in that respect, Slytherin seemed closely moulded on the Dark Lord.

He couldn't let a dark lord of any kind rise. He mustn't allow it to happen. It was a fair blessing that Harry Potter hadn't been in the common room when the event transpired. At the moment, Harry Potter getting closer to the Gray seemed to be his worst case scenario for the boy. Lord Slytherin was powerful, amoral, ruthless, and protective the perfect mentor and shield for a young boy, marked as his equal, to be raised into something terrible.

He would have to pay close attention to that danger, especially with Tom in the castle.

In the meantime, he had to speak with Lord Slytherin, at the very least to get a bead on the man and attempt to protect Severus from his attentions.

Dumbledore shuffled the parchments still held in his hands and smiled a grim smile.

Luckily, he'd now received just the thing to bring Slytherin in. If this didn't work, then Slytherin wasn't the man he thought he was.

"Floppy."

A house elf appeared at his side. "Yes, Headmaster Dumblydores?" "Could Floppy?"

you

call

for

two

owls,

please,

Floppy bowed low to the ground. "Certainly, Headmaster Dumblydores." The elf vanished.

Dumbledore set the parchments down, pulled two blank sheets to him, inked his Phoenix feather quill, and started writing.

Harry woke up on Friday of the first week of school to find himself drenched in sweat. It was a good kind of sweat though. He smiled and yawned. Ginny's dreamland duelling training kicked ass. Her pendant had been a one of a kind, once in a lifetime find, and snatching it when he did had been a master stroke. He wouldn't get to see her every night, but he looked forward to when he did.

He swung his legs off the bed, slipped on his slippers, and padded over to the bathroom. A few minutes of rinsing off later, he brushed up, left the bathroom, and slipped on his workout clothes.

On the other side of the room, Malfoy snorted in his sleep and turned over.

He wasn't so sure about Malfoy at the moment. The young Heir had such potential for his cause, but it lay hidden under a quarter inch layer of pretension, pomposity, and solid damn presumption.

From the moment Snape gave his "Fuck Harry Potter" speech at the beginning of term, Malfoy's attitude took an immediate and total 180 degree turn from the cautiously accepting attitude Harry had painstakingly cultivated. He'd expected this, but it didn't make it any less annoying. He'd cornered the young heir the following day on his way back from a bathroom.

"Heir Malfoy," he'd said.

Malfoy had sneered at him. "What is it, Potter? You think I want anything to do with a dirty half-blood, blood-traitor like you?"

Unlike Malfoy's sneer, he'd kept his face friendly and neutral. "Heir Malfoy, I understand that at the moment you are choosing to follow the majority of our house in ostracising me—"

Malfoy had scoffed.

"—However," he'd continued, "I want you to know that there may well come a time when it is politically intelligent to consider an alternative path, and when that time comes you may look upon our time now as a missed opportunity."

Malfoy's eyes had narrowed. "What makes you think that such a time will ever come?"

He'd grinned, held out his hand, palm up, and produced a small ball of hovering, flickering flame, without word or wand.

Malfoy's eyes had widened, shooting from his face to the micro fireball and back.

He'd held it there for a second more. "Just a suspicion, Heir Malfoy." He'd then bowed, turned, waved the fire away, and walked off, leaving a hopefully more uncertain and slightly more cautious Malfoy behind him.

The young heir's behaviour over the next few days suggested he had, in fact, made a slight impression. The open verbal attacks from Malfoy slowed, and only happened when the young heir joined in with someone else.

Harry finished pulling on his trainers, and, with one last glance at the Malfoy heir, left the Slytherin first years dorms.

After exercising, showering properly, changing, and strolling down to breakfast, Harry sat in the middle of the Slytherin table and ploughed through a large stack of eggs, bacon, potatoes, and assorted vegetables. He finished off his pile of organic fuel and muscle building material with a bowl of mixed oats, fruit, nuts and seeds something he'd never seen at breakfast before, but which tasted quite nice.

All around him, empty chairs loudly proclaimed his status as an outsider, neither wanted nor needed. The people nearest him occasionally shot dirty looks and glares, to which he smiled back and waved.

At the end of the Slytherin table, nearest the head table, Malfoy held court, surrounded by his small clique of Dark first years.

📖📖📖

🪄✨This novel is available in pdf format with more than 600 chapters if you want you can visit our store🪄✨

⬇️⬇️⬇️

🪄✨https://sunflowersfic.tiendup.com🪄✨