Power He Knows Not

The Hunt Begins

"What is up with all of you today?" Professor Mcgonagall frowned at them all, having just turned into a tabby cat and back, with almost no reaction.

"While it certainly doesn't matter, this is the first time in quite a while that my demonstration has not at least garnered interest."

"Please, Professor," Hermione said timidly, ignoring the way everyone else threw Harry not so subtle looks,

"We've just had our first Division class, and-"

Mcgonagall raised a hand to forestall Hermione's next words.

"Of course. No need to say more, ms. Granger. Who will be dying this year?"

With yet another unsubtle glance at Harry, the class remained silent. With an inaudible sigh, Harry raised his hand slightly and said,

"Me, Professor."

The 'death omen' hadn't been what bothered him though. He was stuck with a portion of Voldemort's memories in his head, if the megalomaniac didn't already want him dead, he definitely would once he found out.

No. What was bothering Harry about it, came back to Sirius. Mcgonagall's lecture about Animagi was actually really interesting, and explained Sirius' transformation perfectly.

The fact he turned into the Grim... well, Harry hadn't decided how he felt about that.

"Ah. Well, you should know, Mr. Potter, that Sybil Trelawney has predicted the death of at least one student every year since her placement here."

She looked at him over the top of her spectacles, "as you seem in fine health, you'll forgive me for not excluding you from homework. Should you die, you need not hand it in."

Somehow, Harry felt better after that.

The rest of their morning classes went a lot better, and at last, it was time for lunch. Harry didn't feel very hungry, so he waved his friends towards the great hall, telling them he wanted to grab something from the dormitory, and he'd meet them in a minute.

Rather then the Gryffindor common room, Harry made his way to a corridor on the seventh floor, where, along one wall, there hung a tapestry depicting Barnibus the Barmy being beaten by trolls in tutus.

Alright. Riddle was taking more notice now, a hint of excitement beginning to tinge his voice, to summon the door, you must walk in front of that blank wall, and focus on your need to find the room where everything is hidden. Walk in front of it three times, and make sure to focus.

Harry looked at the bare stones, privately regretting that day in the Chamber, even though he knew he would do nothing different.

Following Riddle's instructions, Harry paced in front of the wall three times, focusing everything on his silent plea. As he completed the third pass, Harry heard the soft grinding of stone shifting, and turned in time to see a large door etch itself into the stone before turning to wood.

Harry stared at the door in awe for a moment. Magic really was magnificent.

Harry glanced around to make sure no one was coming down the corridor, and pulled open one of the doors. Beyond was a giant room, the ceiling far out of sight. The only things visible were towering stacks of junk; chairs, desks, couches, tables, paintings.

As Harry hesitantly made his way down the nearest path through the junk, he spotted rolled up rugs, wardrobes and books stacked precariously. He was starting to think that maybe Riddle was right, it would take him forever to find something so small in the giant room. He doubted he'd find it before Christmas, let alone Halloween.

Harry ended up getting so lost and turned around in the Room of Requirement, that he was almost late to his first Care of Magical Creatures class. When he got there, panting from his run through the castle, Ron and Hermione were standing slightly apart from each other, obviously not speaking to one another.

They must have had a row over lunch, so Harry just took the spot between them, glad he had missed the part where he might have been expected to take a side.

After the biting book Hagrid had assigned the class, Harry didn't have the highest hopes that the lesson would end without injury. And like a gray sky before rain, Malfoy proved Harry's bad feeling true.

Considering Hagrid's skewed view of dangerous creatures, the class actually went rather well, being about hipogriffs. Naturally, Malfoy had to be a smarmy git, and get himself injured by not listening to Hagrid's instructions. As Hagrid carried Malfoy up to the infirmary, the rest of the class headed back to the castle at a slower pace, talking about the lesson and it's spectacular ending.

"I hope Hagrid doesn't get into trouble." Hermione said worriedly, twisting her bag strap in her hands.

"It wasn't that bad. Malfoy's faking it." Ron half growled.

"His father's on the board of governors." Harry said gloomily, "Malfoy cries 'wolf' and his father makes everyone jump."

Harry ignored the small stab of jealousy that hit him with that thought.

Would his father have done the same if Harry got hurt? He tried not to think about that.

As a child the what if's had plagued him, filling the sleepless, hunger filled nights in his cupboard with an incurable ache in his chest. He had finally started to grow out of it, when Hagrid showed up and whisked him away to a world of magic. And then he'd come across the mirror of Erised in his first year. Out of everything to happen to him since coming to Hogwarts, that was the most painful.

The rest of the day, Harry was half lost in a daze, and by the time he climbed into bed, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.

Once he was sure the other third years were asleep, he slipped out of bed, grabbed his invisibility cloak, and snuck out to the Room of Requirement. If he couldn't sleep anyway, he might as well be productive.

The CoMC class went about the same, at least, it had the same result, because honestly? What would Tom Riddle in Harry's head have to do with Malfoy being a prick? Much as I love him, Draco is a long way from the right way in third year.

The update schedule will definitely be hectic, as I don't have any more chapters in the wings, but I will update Wednesday the moment I have a chapter done. The few comments so far on this story are going a long way to help with my writer's block, but between this one, trying fruitlessly to get past where I'm stuck with Idiot and the Heir, and being distracted by minor side stories I have in the side, my writing streak sucks so far. 

Anyway, 

Hope you enjoyed

Bakeku67