Harry Potter: The Saviour's Awakening

The first class he had was Herbology with the Slytherins. Harry hadn't learnt much Herbology before even if he had read books on the subject. Practical Herbology was something he didn't care about, but ingredients and their properties were very important for Potions. Professor Sprout was a cheerful woman who asked them to form groups of three. Harry joined Daphne and Tracy since they were the only ones who he had conversed with.

"You surprised a lot of people last night, Potter," said Tracy as she re-potted the plant as instructed by Professor Sprout. "Everyone - and I mean everyone - expected you to be sorted into Gryffindor like your parents."

Daphne acted as though she wasn't listening, but she was quite curious about his response to that statement.

"I don't know why people assume stuff about me," Harry shrugged. "As far as I know, none of them has seen me since I was a baby; or seen me at all for that matter. They don't know how I grew up or what my personality is like. I wasn't raised by my parents, so how could they assume I would go to Gryffindor like them?"

"True," nodded Tracy. "I was actually rooting for Slytherin."

"I qualified for Slytherin as well. It was a tie between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but I don't really care much for the hierarchy that I've heard is prevalent in your House. I refuse to bow down to anyone, so it would have been - ahem - not as peaceful had I been sorted there. Ravenclaw is a better fit for me."

"Scared of the big bad Slytherins, Potter?" Pansy Parkinson, a mean-looking Slytherin, asked snidely.

"No. But I'm afraid killing someone who insults my mother due to her status as a Muggle-born is frowned upon in society. I wouldn't want the dungeons to become a bloodbath. But if you do have a death wish, I would be happy to oblige."

Pansy gulped. Someone in Potter's tone conveyed that he wasn't kidding when he said that. She turned away and many others were surprised by Harry's candid answer but didn't react to it. Daphne was thoughtful. Harry Potter was proving to be a mystery.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was quite lame, in Harry's opinion. Professor Quirrell seemed to be afraid of his own shadow and Harry was deeply disappointed that such an important subject was wasted on the fool. History of Magic, another important subject, was not being taught properly. Professor Binns, the ghost teacher, went on and on about goblin rebellions but didn't seem to teach the actual history of witches and wizards. There was so much about their past that people needed to know. History was one of Harry's favourite subjects, but this was beyond ridiculous. Charms was quite nice as Professor Flitwick was jovial in class. He had taught everyone the Lumos charm and was quite impressed with Harry's control over his magic.

Harry realised that he would be dreadfully bored in classes if they continued at this pace. Maybe he could look into an accelerated program at Hogwarts. It would most certainly help, but those programs needed the approval of the Headmaster and his guardian, both of whom, unfortunately, was Professor Dumbledore, and Harry had a hunch that the former would not oblige.

Once classes were done for the day, he was escorted by Professor Flitwick to the Headmaster's office. The half-goblin muttered the password to the stone gargoyle.

"Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you, Mr Potter," said Flitwick.

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry quietly as he ascended to the Head's office by stepping onto the moving staircase. Just as he reached the oak door, he knocked twice and heard 'Enter' from inside. Harry opened the door and gracefully walked inside. His eyes widened slightly in awe when he spotted a scarlet phoenix, but the mask was back in place before Dumbledore could see it.

"Ah, Harry, come in," Dumbledore cried joyfully, his eyes twinkling. "Please sit down. Would you care for a Sherbet lemon?"

Harry took a seat on one of the plush armchairs in front of the headmaster. "No thank you, sir. I don't care for sweets much," he answered.

"That's a shame," Dumbledore said, as he took the candy and popped it in his mouth. "They are really quite delicious."

Harry simply remained still as he stared at the wall behind the headmaster. After about a minute, when Dumbledore realised that the boy wasn't about to take the bait, he sighed in resignation. "How are you, Harry? You have no idea how worried I've been for the past four years. I wish you had not run away from home like that."

"I never ran away from home, Professor," retorted Harry sharply. "I went back home. If you're referring to Aunt Petunia's residence, I'm afraid you are incorrect in referring it as mine. I don't own it."

"I see," said Dumbledore as he looked at the boy critically. He was unusually composed for an eleven-year-old. It did nothing but remind him of the young Tom Riddle and he didn't like that comparison one bit.

"But you still ran away. There were protections placed around the Dursley residence, especially for you, my boy. I assume you know of Lord Voldemort, yes? I placed a complex enchantment on the house ten years ago, Harry. As long as you stay there and call the place home, Lord Voldemort's followers cannot touch you. With you having left Privet Drive…"

Dumbledore sighed. "No matter, I'm sure the protections can be updated for this summer. I have already spoken to your aunt and she is most eager to have you back."

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Dumbledore mentally frowned when he saw the fire in Harry's green eyes. The boy's orbs were slightly glowing, but it was nothing to be concerned about. It was common among powerful witches and wizards, but what was clear was that Harry was angry. However, he found it unnerving that not a hint of emotion could be seen on the boy's face. How was that possible?

"I'm afraid that is not possible, Headmaster," said Harry quietly. "You may be my magical guardian, but you cannot force me back into that house. I will resist you. I'm pretty sure you already know why I ran away. Besides, if you think the protections around a stupid Muggle home is more complex than the ancient wards around Potter Castle, you are sadly mistaken. You yourself couldn't find me for four years, so what makes you think the Death Eaters can?"

"Those protections were placed due to the sacrifice of your mother, Harry," said Dumbledore gently. "The blood wards around the Dursley residence would ensure that no one with ill intent would be able to enter as the wards are connected to you through your mother's sister. Please listen to me; as long as you call the place home, it would protect you from outside forces who wish to harm you. I'm only trying to protect you, Harry."

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