Classes had continued through the week as they had begun, normal, aka dull, for Harry. That is save for Defense. It was in this class he not only excelled but was often pushed into the spotlight.
All courtesy of the professor.
"Mr. Potter, if you would kindly demonstrate the spell from last time." The boy, naturally, flushed a bit as all eyes turned towards him. Still, he did as he was told, although with far less strength in the incantation than before. "Very good, twenty points to Slytherin. As you can see, class, a spell can be fine-tuned with more or less Magic as mister Potter demonstrated. Less power can turn a normally lethal spell into one only causing harm, more power can increase damage to devastating proportions."
Even his adjustments warranted attention it seemed. The only upside was that he wasn't receiving as many glares as he initially thought would be the case. And although there were certainly some looks of anger it was still better than some of the situations he had dealt with before.
While the rest of the students began their normal studies after his demonstration, Riddle opted to present a small notebook to the boy when he returned to his desk. "You will be doing a different assignment, Mr. Potter. Start by attempting the spells listed in the first chapter and we will go over them this weekend."
To say he was wary about taking a notebook from someone with the last name 'Riddle' was an understatement, and when it became obvious, he wasn't going to so much as touch the offered object the older woman set it down on the table in front of him before walking off to begin her assistance for the remaining students.
Harry stared at the object, dreading what it might be or contain. Was it the same cursed object that Ginny had been given? Or was it something even worse?
Regardless, he continued staring at the object for another few minutes before going to his textbook instead. He had already drawn enough attention to himself for one week.
****
"Mr. Potter, stay behind for a moment."
It sounded different from when McGonagall had requested it, less warmth, and more formality. Add into the fact that it was a sociopath ordering him around and Harry was more than a little tense to be in the same room, especially alone, with Riddle.
But it would probably be more suspicious if he bolted, or drew his Wand on her, and so he stayed put, waiting as she walked over and sat next to him. The tension in his body was obvious, and he could tell she noticed, watching him as she always seemed to be doing.
"I would like to know why my best student seems to hate me."
That was not what he had expected her to say. Not only did he not consider himself 'her best student', because it felt like he was cheating since he knew everything already, he also assumed she wouldn't know exactly how he felt about her.
Still, if he denied it, she probably wouldn't believe him. Obviously, he couldn't tell her the complete truth either, so he went with something in the middle. "You remind me of someone."
The professor frowned a bit, "I take it you were not a fan of that person."
"They tried to kill me, so no."
For a split second he saw it, that oh so familiar anger in her eyes. It was gone a moment later, but the image would remain in his mind, proof that shewas the same person as from his world, at least deep down. " Who?"
"What?"
Her voice was nearly a growl, "Who tried to kill you?"
What was he supposed to say, 'The male you'? "It doesn't matter, they're gone."
"It does matter." Riddle snapped.
"No, it bloody doesn't, and it's none of your business anyway!" With that he stood, pushed his chair rough enough that it fell over instead of going under the desk, and stormed out of the room.
Grace watched him go, letting out a sigh of resignation as she did. It did not escape her attention that he had left the notebook she had given to him earlier behind on his desk, still untouched.
****
Envy, annoyance, maybe a tad bit of pride filled Harry Potter as he sat in the stands, watching girls on brooms zip around at incredible speeds high above the Quidditch pitch. He longed to feel the wind in his face, through his hair, to have that thrill of adrenaline mixed with freedom. When he had first taken to the skies the thing that attracted him to the sport most was how opposite it was to his own life.
Freedom opposed to confinement, excitement opposed to boredom, sunshine as opposed to the dark of a cupboard.
Dread crept along his skin, darkening his mind and he had to force himself, as always, to find happiness and ward it off. There was no reason to dread the summer in this world, no Dursleys, no cupboard.
After another handful of deep breaths of the cool, crisp air he returned his gaze to the players and frowned a bit. Both seekers were decent, not great but good enough. He had already spotted the Snitch though while they were still desperately searching for it.
Gryffindor against Slytherin, a match that would have stirred up the fire within his chest before now barely held his attention. What did he care if one House beat the other? He wasn't a Gryffindor and felt completely alone in Slytherin.
"Oh come on that was an easy save!" Another, oh so familiar, voice yelled from nearby. Harry turned and spotted the red hair of his former friend making his way up to one of the benches nearby. Noticing that the area was already occupied, and by a student of the opposing House, Ron flushed a bit in surprise and embarrassment, "Uh, sorry…"
Huh, apparently Ron wasn't quite as anti-Slytherin in this world. At least that was a nice change.
Harry quickly shook his head, "Nah, it's fine. My sisters are in Gryffindor, wouldn't feel right rooting against their house completely." This earned a grin from the Weasley, who took a seat next to Harry on the otherwise empty bench.
"Supporting family is important" the redhead immediately praised, "I've got a bunch of sisters myself."
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