A Dark Lord in the Making

A Gryffindor's Meeting

Note: Finally an update on this story!! I've been struggling with this chapter and have to admit that I have a strong love/hate relationship with this chapter. There are so many moments that I don't think turned out well, but just as many that I did enjoy... All in all, I hope you enjoy reading. Thanks again for your time and attention!!

Harry woke up drenched in sweat. His breathing was shallow and irregular, his green eyes wide. In his dreams, he had been chased by the Basilisk. Like a few months ago, he had been unsuccessful in controlling the mighty magical beast, only in his dreams did it results in the deaths of Ron, Ginny, and himself. When he closed his eyes he could still feel the hot breath of the snake on his skin, just before the huge mouth closed on his body.

With a shiver, Harry tried to sit up but was stopped by a tangle of blankets. Finally, he gave up and fell onto his soft mattress with a thud.

He thought of his friends with some guilt. He had received several letters from Ron and Hermione, letters laced with humor, kind words, and well-intentioned advice. With a painful feeling in his stomach, Harry thought of the last letter he'd received from Hermione. His friends wanted to take him to Diagon Alley as a belated birthday present. Harry could pick out a present himself there and the young Gryffindors could also do some shopping for Hogwarts right away. They had received the Hogwarts book list just days before, indicating that Dumbledore had a new teacher for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post.

Harry grimaced at the thought of Lockhart's incompetence and fervently hoped that the old Headmaster had finally hired a good professor, with actual knowledge to share. He doubted whether he would take another test with personal questions, such as: "What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?" or "How many times was Gilderoy Lockhart the winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award?", could endure. He would rather curse such a man than let it ruin his year unharmed.

Slowly he got up from his bed and got dressed. He realized he had to ask Marvolo for permission to spend the day on Diagon Alley with his friends. He'd put off this question for a long time, and he knew he had to face the man today. It was either writing to Hermione that he couldn't come to Diagon.

The way to the study was now known and etched in his memory. He did not doubt that Marvolo would be there, even as early in the morning as it was, the man was making plans. Harry had never seen him with friends, no, the man had associates, not friends. Sometimes Harry thought it would make him lonely, but nothing in Marvolo's behavior indicated that.

Harry stopped in front of the study door. He raised his hand to knock, then hesitated. His hand hovered over the wood as he mentally practiced his speech. He rejected several monologues and wasn't sure how to get the best result.

"Are you going to use the door, or are you researching woodworking?" Sounded from inside the room. Harry was startled from his musings and opened the door with shame on his cheeks.

"Sorry, sir- err, F-father," Harry began, stuttering. "I was lost in thought."

"That's no problem, Harry. Come on in."

Harry shuffled into the study. Again he noticed how much the room was filled with both magical items and stuff from the Muggle world. It was clear that Marvolo was researching the Muggle world and wanted to know exactly how to align his actions with the Muggles' lifestyles. He took know-thou-enemy to a whole other level.

"You're out of bed early," Marvolo noted as he moved a pile of parchment. He drew a thick red line on a piece of parchment as he waited for Harry's answer.

The dark-haired boy watched mesmerized as the older wizard systematically worked his way through the pile of parchment. Within seconds, the man had been taking notes on three different papers, an act that instantly made Harry feel smaller as if Marvolo was superior in everything. He chuckled softly, Marvolo would probably agree with him if he expressed his thoughts.