A/N: Here's chapter fourteen for you all.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore eyed the students seated in the Great Hall in front of him and stood up, his blue eyes twinkling as he loudly tapped his spoon on the side of his cup of tea. A loud clanging noise, magnified by a nifty piece of magic, echoed in the large room and students turned their heads and fell silent, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Salem alike.

“Good morning,” Albus greeted pleasantly. “Let me first welcome our international friends to their first day at our fine castle. It is a pleasure to have you here and I hope that our schools can set aside old differences and become firm friends.”

There was a polite round of applause as Dumbledore smiled warmly, his aged face showing nothing of the troublesome night he had had after spending several hours researching about the Order of Blackened Denarius and the Fallen.

“Because of the overwhelming generosity of Headmaster Smith and Professor Carpenter of Salem's Witches and Wizards Institute, I am delighted to announce that a new, entirely voluntary class will be held once a week, starting from tomorrow night. The course offers a brief glance at Alternative Magics and investigates the creatures and customs that make up the Old World. I strongly urge everybody who is interested in such a course to attend. I guarantee you that it will be well worth your time.”

Here he paused; slowly stroking his beard as some of the students muttered to each other in surprise, but he raised his hands and the hall instantly went silent

“I am delighted to say that this year; we are graced with two new students, who only arrived here at Hogwarts last night. They have already been sorted into their houses, so without further ado, please welcome our new latecomers, Amanda Carpenter, the younger sister of Professor Carpenter, who was sorted into Gryffindor fourth year, and Harry Potter, who was also sorted in Gryffindor fourth year.”

The entire Hall burst into loud chatters and exclaimed gasps and a hundreds of students turned their heads towards the doors as a single figure slipped in, a scowl on his face.

Harry eyed the Great Hall, noting that everybody seemed to be looking at him with a mixture of surprise, shock and awe. His scowl deepened as he heard the soft murmur of whispers increase as he walked forward, eyeing all of the tables and frowning He glanced down at his robes, shifting uncomfortably in the unfamiliar clothing, and noted the red and gold tie. His eyes swung up to the large, colourful banners and immediately spotted the colours he was looking for.

He walked over to the nearest empty seat, his face set in a scowl as he jabbed a finger towards the nearest person, a lanky, redheaded boy with a gaping face and wide eyes.

“Gryffindor, right?” He asked.

“Um…Y-yeah,” The boy stuttered in surprise, his ears flaming with blood as he gaped at him, his eyes wide with shock and awe.

Harry ignored him and sat down, face still twisted into a scowl as he grabbed some food from the massive platters in front of him and splattered them on his plate, his stomach rumbling hungrily. He shifted uncomfortably in his new robes, eyeing them with a look of disgust. They were too small to hide his sword, so he had been forced to leave the powerful weapon in his room. He turned to his food with a ravenous expression on and dipped his food into it, preparing to take a bite.

“So, you're the boy-who-lived?” asked the redhead boy, his companions, a bushy-haired girl and a chubby, mousy-haired boy looking on with curiosity.

Harry let out a sigh as he dropped the fork from his mouth, nodding as he glanced around the hall, seeing that most of the students were still darting glances his way while some of the older ones were whispering to the younger ones, gesturing to Harry with quick, excited motions.

“Can you show me your scar?” The boy asked again, his eyes fixating on Harry's fringe which covered his forehead.

Harry dropped his fork, which landed on the plated with a loud clang as he stared at the boy with an expression of annoyance and disdain. The redheaded boy blushed, his face turning bright red as he nervously looked away. Harry scowled and concentrated on his food again, picking up his fork and preparing to eat.

“Aren't you dead?” The other boy, with the mousy brown hair and chubby face, asked nervously.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh as he dropped his fork and looked up, his eyes glinting with irritation as he rounded on the boy with a nasty tone.

“Do I look dead to you?” Harry snapped out, the boy flinching at every word. “But, hey, if you guys don't let me finish my breakfast, I just might die of starvation and you can really see what a dead Harry Potter looks like.”

The boy looked away; flinching at Harry's sharp gaze, but the green-eyed boy looked away and turned back to his food. He picked up his fork again but didn't even put it to his lips as he waited for one of the idiots to say something else, and sure enough:

“Well, there's no need to be rude,” the frizzy-haired girl huffed, her chocolate-coloured eyes eying Harry with disapproval. “We were just curious.”

“There are plenty of reasons to be rude,” Harry snapped, eying her with an irritated scowl on his face. “For example, you people won't shut the hell up and let me eat.”

The girl gaped at his hostile tone, blinking in shock as Harry went back to his food, and a scowl appeared on her face. She opened her mouth, her body bristling with righteous anger, when Amanda slid in next to Harry, flashing a bright smile at the group in front of Harry.

“Don't mind him,” She said cheerfully. “He's a grumpy kid.”

Harry stared at her with an incredulous expression on his face.

“Why the hell are you sitting next to me?” He asked, almost looking bewildered as he leaned in, his voice lowering. “I can protect you if sit at the other end of the table, you know.”

“Oh, Harry,” Amanda said in disappointment, waggling her finger at him. “That's not a very nice way to talk your friend.”

“Oh shut up,” Harry muttered angrily as he turned away, while Amanda flashed another smile, winking at the group of Gryffindor in front of her, who smiled back at the pleasant girl.

“You're not a morning person, are you?” The bushy-haired girl said, her face twisted in a disapproving and stern frown.

“Sometimes I am,” Harry said, lifting his eyes and sending a very annoyed look her way. “But not when I have to come down into a hall full of chattering idiots.”

“Idiots!” The girl huffed out, almost in shock as she gazed at the boys around her for support, but they merely shrugged helplessly. “What did I ever do…?”

“Shut up,” Harry interrupted, placing his eyes back down on his plate as he picked up his fork.

“But…” The girl started, glaring at him with anger.

“Shut up,” Harry repeated again, twirling his fork in his food.

“Harry…” Amanda started, eying the girl with an apologetic look on her face as she nudged him, her eyes glancing at him meaningfully.

“Shut,” Harry said and raised his gaze to look at the blonde. “Up.”

Amanda sighed, her light-grey eyes meeting Harry's green orbs for a brief second, before she turned away with a small, shiver up spine at the darkness she could see in them. Harry let a small, smirk curve his lips as he turned back to his food, lifting his fork and finally taking the first bite out of his breakfast.

“Anyway,” Amanda started, shooting Harry an annoyed look before replacing it with a bright smile as she beamed at the group across the table. “I'm Amanda Carpenter.”

“I'm Hermione,” The frizzy-hair girl said after a moment's hesitation, gesturing at the redheaded boy and the mousy-brown haired boy respectively as she continued. “This is Ron and Neville. We're fourth years, just like you.”

Harry ignored the rest of the conversation as Amanda, Hermione, Ron, and occasionally Neville began loudly chatting to each other as he dug into his breakfast, almost grunting with satisfaction as he swallowed a fatty, piece of sausage. He enjoyed his breakfast in relative silence, ignoring the constant stares and mutters from the people around the Great Hall, until there was a coughing sound behind him and he turned around, a frown already on his face.

A tall, thin and aging witch stood behind him, her greying dark hair tied back into a bun as she stared down at Harry, her stern face eying him carefully as she handed him a small piece of parchment. Harry took it and glanced down at it, noting that it was a timetable of sorts as the Professor passed another one to Amanda, who took it with a reflexive thank you.

“Mr Potter, Ms Carpenter, I am Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor house,” The woman began severely. “Ms Carpenter, I understand that you have had three years of formal education at Salem's Witches and Wizards Institute. Am I correct?”

“Yes, Professor,” Amanda replied obediently.

McGonagall nodded and swung her gaze to Harry.

“Mr Potter, have you ever had any magical education before?” She asked.

Harry hesitated and nodded his head slowly.

“I have had a tutor for the past seven years,” He answered slowly. “But I don't know if what she taught me would fit into your curriculum, and there were some subjects she didn't have any expertise in at all.”

McGonagall frowned but didn't appear to be too surprised.

“I thought that it might have been something like that,” She said crisply. “So it has been decided that you will complete a series of past examinations, to asses your knowledge. If you find yourself lacking in certain areas, tutors and additional study time will be made available to you. Is that acceptable, Mr Potter?”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged easily.

McGonagall's lips thinned, probably at Harry's seemingly uncaring manner.

“Good. Now, you both have to choose two electives in addition to your core subjects,” McGonagall continued, handing both Harry and Amanda another piece of parchment. Harry frowned as he looked down, reading the electives, which were Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Divination.  

'Do not bother with Ancient Runes,' Meciel said softly into his mind. 'Historical information is my specialty, after all. I suggest that you try Divination. The ability to see into the future could be a very valuable asset.'

“I'll take Divination,” Harry told McGonagall and frowned at the rest of the list, thinking carefully about what subject to take. Muggle Studies wouldn't be any fun, since he already knew it, and Arithmancy sounded like it had something to do with numbers and Harry had always hated maths. “And Care of Magical Creatures.”

 

“Very well, Mr Potter,” McGonagall said and she gestured for Harry to hand back his timetable. He did, and watched as she tapped it sharply with her wand, before handing it back. When he looked down, he saw that some of his free slots had been filled up with new classes. “Ms Carpenter?”

Amanda hesitated as she saw Harry's rather pointed expression and she sighed, handing back her timetable to McGonagall.

“I'll do the same as what he's doing,” She muttered.

McGonagall's brows raised but she nodded, doing the same thing with Amanda's timetable as she had done with Harry's and handing it back.

“You will both be attending your classes today,” She instructed them. “You will receive your books at a later date but for now, I urge you to pay attention to what is being taught. Fourth Year can be a very difficult year for some students.” Here she paused and a smile curved her lips, a seemingly rare expression for the stern woman. “Welcome back, Mr Potter. I do hope you behave a little better than your father did.”

She spun around and walked away from the table as Harry grunted, turning back to his breakfast and picking up his fork again as he started eating. Next to him, Amanda frowned as she looked at her timetable and glanced over at his.

“Hey, have a class this morning,” She said with surprise. “Potions, with Professor Snape, in the dungeons. Ooh, I've heard of him. He's meant to be really good.”

“Whoop-dee-doo,” Harry muttered.

The Potions classroom within the Hogwarts dungeons was dark and damp, reeking of a variety of different and unknown smells. The only sounds Harry could hear as he walked in were the quiet, hushed whispers from the students already sitting at their desks and the soft, crackle of the flames underneath the small, pewter cauldrons.

Harry ignored the stares as he scanned the room and his eyes fell on an empty seat. He walked over and sat down next to a whitish-blondish haired boy, who eyed him speculatively. A few moments later, Amanda walked into the classroom and made her way over the Harry, sitting in the extra seat next to him and placing her wand on the table in front of her. She glanced around the dungeon with a look of interest and then noticed Harry's look of irritation.

“Hmm?” She murmured. “Is something wrong?”

“It's nothing,” Harry muttered and looked away. Meanwhile, the boy on his right continued to gaze at him curiously, and then reached over and extended his hand. He was a short boy, with pale hair, pale skin and pale eyes. He had the look of the aristocrats of old, not only in physical features but in facial expressions as well as he haughtily stared at Harry.

“You must be Harry Potter,” He said loudly. “The name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

“Do I look like I care?” responded Harry, his voice bored and lacking interest. As the blonde boy blinked in surprise, anger tracing up his face, Meciel spoke up within his mind.

'Now, beloved, you will be here for some time, so it wouldn't hurt to play nice for a change.'

Harry sighed and made a small face at Meciel, but he grudging extended his hand.

“Sorry,” he muttered insincerely. “Bad morning.”

Malfoy frowned but clasped Harry's hand and shook it. Harry almost shuddered at the greasy, clammy feel of Malfoy's palm and quickly let go, discreetly bringing it under his desk and wiping it on his robes. Amanda noticed the exchange reached over, a perky smile on her face as she extended her small hand.

“Hi,” She said brightly. “I'm Amanda Carpenter.”

Harry eyed her as if she was an idiot, leaning forward with an annoyed scowl on his face as he put his lips to her ear.

“Never give your full name to somebody,” He hissed softly. “Ever!”

Amanda blinked, turning her head and staring at him with puzzlement, while Malfoy stared at her hand, not taking it as he eyed Amanda carefully.

“I've never heard of the Carpenter family before,” He said slowly. “Are you a pureblood family in America?”

“What?” Amanda blinked, before smiling in comprehension. “No, no, my parents can't use magic. My older sister can, though.”

“You're a mud…muggleborn?” Malfoy spat out, his face twisting with disgust and he withdrew his hand.

Amanda flinched at his tone and snapped her hand back, scowling at him angrily

“What if I am?” She challenged.

Malfoy didn't say anything to her and glanced back to Harry, smiling as if they were conspirators in a secret plot.

“You'll find out that some wizarding families are superior to others,” He said softly, leaning forward to stare at Harry intently. “I can help you, if you'd like.”

“Yeah, I'm going to have to tell you to go fuck yourself,” Harry replied nonchalantly and a small smirk curved his lips as Malfoy blinked in shock, flinching as if he had been stung as colour shot up his pale cheeks.

The class quietened around them as they waited for Malfoy to make the next move. The blonde boy's eyes glinted with anger as he leaned forward, but it was at that moment that the door to the classroom slammed open and a tall, lanky with sallow skin and long, greasy hair stormed in, his face set into a perpetual scowl.

Malfoy hastily leaned back as Amanda sent a small smile in Harry's direction, but Harry ignored her and watched as the man came to front of classroom, his cloak whipping behind him as he whirled around to address the students.

“We will be continuing on our Cheering solutions,' The Professor said in a cold, silky voice, which echoed around the quiet dungeon and giving it a certain nastiness to it. “For the incompetent students here, please pay attention.”

Harry saw that his eyes flickered over on the other side of the room, focussing on Ron and Neville, both who shied away nervously from the gaze as the man smirked in amusement and continued.

“You must add the hippogriff feather after the bat's blood or you will melt your cauldron…again,” The Professor said, and this time he made no attempt at being subtle as he glanced at Neville with a look of disdain on his face. “Let's see if we can have a lesson where Longbottom doesn't ruin a perfectly good set of ingredients. You may begin.”

Neville's face burned red as he slumped into his seat and Ron muttered something to him, his voice to low for Harry to hear as the class got started in their work, pulling ingredients out from small pouches and starting to dice them up. Harry and Amanda exchanged a glance, Harry looking bored and Amanda looking confused as she raised her hand.

“Um…Professor?” She called out, gaining the attention of the entire class. “We're new here so we haven't started the potion yet.”

“Ah, yes,” The Professor murmured softly, his glittering, obsidian eyes staring at Harry and Amanda intently. “It's the transfer student and of course, our new celebrity guest, Mr Potter. I see you have finally decided to grace Hogwarts with your presence.”

Harry blinked in surprise at the hostility and dislike he could hear in the man's sneering tone and raised his eyes, a scowl appearing on his face as he assessed the Professor in front of him. The man seemed to notice the action and a slow, malicious smirk spread across his face.

“Class, stop your work,” He ordered suddenly and rounded on Harry, his eyes glittering with emotion. “We're going to see just what Potter has learnt in his absence here. Tell me, where could I find boomslang skin?”

'I cannot assist you here, beloved. My knowledge does not extend to the craft that these wand-wizards call potion-making.'

“Well,” Harry replied, frowning in mock-thought. “You could probably peel some off a boomslang, I guess.”

“Tut, tut, tut,” The professor tittered slowly. “You answer is incorrect. Let's try again, shall we? Tell me Potter, what is important about the forth use of dragon's blood in potion-making?”

“The fourth use,” Harry repeated softly. “Well, I'd say it's a little more important than the fifth use, but c'mon, there's no way it can compare to the third use.”

“Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter,” The professor snapped, irritation glittering in his eyes as he stared at Harry with disdain. “I can clearly see that life has not seen fit to indulge you with a brain, but that's the pity about celebrities these days, isn't it?”

Harry stared at the man quietly, anger boiling in his stomach over his treatment. Next to him, Amanda seemed to be stunned into stillness, her eyes wide as she picked up on the amount of hatred that the professor had for Harry. But Harry had had enough, and in his mind Meciel quite agreed with him, so he firmed his resolve and let an arrogant and haughty smile come over his face.

“Oh, Professor?” He called out innocently. “What was your name again?”

“My name is Severus Snape,” The professor answered curtly. “You may call me Professor Snape, and that will be two points off for interrupting me.”

There were mutters of protest from around the room but Snape swivelled his head, his eyes narrowed, and they instantly disappeared. It seemed as if Snape's attitude wasn't just solely directed at him, but unlike the rest of these people, he wasn't going to take it lying down.

“Ah, now Severus,” Harry began, ignoring the way Snape's eye twitched as he said his name. “I know that you must be in awe of me but I'm going to have to insist that you stop calling me a celebrity.”

A wicked smile came over Harry's face as he leaned forward, bringing his amused and arrogant face closer to Snape.

“Because I think that the proper term would be hero,” Harry said smugly and leant back, smoothing a hand through his hair. “I'm Harry Potter, the hero, not the celebrity.”

“Hero?” Snape repeated softly and dangerously. The dungeon completely quiet as the students watched Harry with wide eyes as if they were amazed at his audacity. “Is that how you see yourself then, Potter?”

“Well, I am a hero, aren't I?” Harry answered conceitedly, a wicked smile curving his lips as he leant back in his chair. “I mean, I did defeat the evil Voldemort.”

The entire class flinched at the sound of the name, including Snape, who let out a small growl of anger as rage filled his features.

“Do not utter that name again!” He hissed angrily, but Harry ignored him and continued, his small, arrogant smile still on his face and infuriating Snape far more than Harry could have known.

“Severus, please try to control your jealousy. I know that you're comparing my obviously heroic and amazing attributes to your own and find yourself lacking but don't worry,” Harry said in a soothing tone, his face morphing into concern as he stared at the Professor gently. “I worked hard to get where I am. I'm sure you can reach my level someday.”

Snape's sallow face was throbbing with red, his veins bulging from his neck as he glared at Harry with nothing less than pure hatred, his fingers flexing as if there was nothing else he would like more than to wrap them around Harry's neck and squeeze.

“You arrogant little fool,” he hissed softly, menacingly. “That's fifty points for your cheek and another fifty for the improper use of my first name! Do not delude yourself with notions of grandeur and heroism! You are nothing but an insignificant speck!

Harry sighed sadly, shaking his head remorsefully as he glanced at Amanda from the corner of his eye, who seemed to be caught between horror and laughter as she stared back, trying to keep the smile twitching her lips from appearing on her face.

“It's sad how petty a jealous man can become,” He told her loudly, making a tsking sound. “You know, envy is a sin.”

Amanda couldn't help it and let out a little giggle, clapping her hands over her mouth at the irony of the statement as Harry turned his head and stared back at Snape, who looked too furious for words. Harry's smug green eyes clashed with Snape's furious obsidian black eyes and suddenly Meciel started as Harry felt something slide against his mind, almost like a tickling sensation.

'He is probing your mind!' She hissed softly.

Harry almost flinched as Meciel lashed out with her power, searing heat and power cascades through his body as sulphur filled his nostrils. The Fallen's majestic and terrifying voice, rent with vicious hatred and rage, lashed out with a wordless snarl of anger, her presence dwarfing Harry's mind as it hurled away a small, unknown presence with great fury.

Harry gave a small grunt as he refocussed his eyes, Meciel retreating back into his mind with an air of satisfaction. He looked up just as Snape let out a terrible cry of pain as both his mind and body were slapped aside by Meciel's might, and he went crashing through this desk, knocking over stacks of parchment and shattering small bottles and vials. He landed on the ground in front of an astonished and unmoving class, who were staring at Harry with nothing less than fear and disbelief in their eyes, while Harry stood up and watched as Snape struggled up to his hands and knees, taking deep, gasping breaths.

“Now, there's no need to get on all fours to worship me,” Harry said quietly, his pseudo-gentleness replaced with a dark smile, while the rest of the class watched as if they were spellbound. ”I do accept the standard genuflecting.”

Snape didn't say anything as the continued to gasp for breath but the look he shot at Harry promised pain and death as the professor tried to recover from the mental backlash, his mind almost numb with pain.

“Perhaps I'll come back when you've had time to adjust to my magnificent presence,” Harry said thoughtfully and motioned for Amanda to follow him. “Come on Amanda, let's give Severus his space.”

Amanda hesitated, looking at Harry with wariness on her face, but the hard look in Harry's eye made her gulp and she quickly stood up and followed him from the door as the two of them left the potions classroom. As soon as Harry and Amanda were walking away, a burst of concerned chatter drifted to their ears and Harry gave a small, victorious grin.

After a few minutes of walking, Harry and Amanda had almost left the dungeons. Harry was content with the silence but Amanda seemed to be fidgeting on her feet before she let out a frustrated sigh and turned to Harry

“What did you do to him?” She demanded angrily.

“He tried to invade my mind,” Harry shrugged carelessly, and a mean smile curved his lips. “Meciel doesn't take too kindly to that.”

Amanda shivered, not feeling cold at all as she stared at Harry for a few more moments. The two of them kept walking and as they turned a corner, they almost bumped into Dumbledore, who was conversing to one of the portraits in a low, muttered voice.

“Ah, headmaster,” Harry greeted loudly, and Dumbledore glanced up, a pleasant smile coming over his face as he approached the two students. “This is good timing.”

“What can I do for you, Mr Potter?” Dumbledore asked, stroking a hand through his beard as his bright blue eyes twinkled down at them.

“Well, these is one thing,” Harry said and his face hardened, something ugly flickering behind his icy green eyes. “You can tell that pathetic bastard of a potions professor that the next time he tries to invade my mind again, I'll make sure she doesn't let go.”

Dumbledore blinked as Harry stalked off, dragging Amanda by the arm after him, and his gaze flickered down into the dungeon where Harry and Amanda had just come from.

“Oh dear,” the old wizard murmured, his eyes losing their twinkle, and he set off in a fast pace to the potions classroom.