A betrayal of a different type

Chapter 19

Flickering candles illuminated the hall. The wind blowed through the open doors gently. The golden tables added to the authentic charm of the place. The stars overhead shimmered.  The soft resonance of chatter reached the head table. Upon the great seat sat a grandfatherly old man whose eyes would seem to twinkle in joy had one not known the deeds performed by him. To his either side sat a man with a hooked nose and a woman with sharp eyes. The man wore his customary scowl and eyes conveying his intense loathing for all those around him. If one were to be more than an expert at reading people, they would see how his eyes inferred the minuscule details from a glance that could unveil your intentions. When one's eyes would fall upon the woman, their first thought would be her dignified posture. The woman looked austere with eyes that could see the smallest of movements. Unnoticed to many, however, would be the softness of her eyes when she looked at certain people and the small twitch of her lips even while berating them. Even as she stood up to leave, one would notice her self-assured stance. Next was a plump woman who could not hide her tender heart for all she was worth. The young regal on the other side could be seen to be captivated by the night sky. There was a lady in a nurse's uniform already giving her students a strict glare. There was a man who closely resembled a giant in combat with a bird's nest. But one would instantly see the naivety and care inside his beetle eyes. There was a greying man with a round belly who would make you feel wary. In the presence of these imposing figures one would happen to overlook one other figure sat at the edge of the table. The figure remained slouched but tense. Unnoticeably the figure would flinch at any sound or touch. His eyes were dull, unassuming to the novice. He expertly maundered them to see each and everything. Even the curious glances the intimidating figures stole at him. 

This was what the first years were greeted to by the head table as the dignified woman, Minerva McGonagall led them towards the Sorting Hat. The crowd of houses had fallen silent. A speck, in the red and gold crowd, our protagonist sat seemingly incognito save for a few shifty glances. Even though Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville sat around him, no one seemed to understand who he really was, nor pay him much attention. Needless to say, this amused Harry Potter greatly and he could not stop wondering what those glances may reveal once they finally understood who he was. No, he wasn't arrogant but his fame was just the sad truth.

As the customary tradition, Harry cast his eyes upon the staff table. Dumbledore and his shiny beard stood out as once. It had nothing to do that he wore neon blue robes decorated with animated bananas. The Professor investigated the crowd, skimming over Harry and dismissing him. Disappointed, his eyes went to scanning the first years. A few glances were thrown, searching for Harry Potter, by the rest of the crowd but no one seemed to notice him, Hagrid the most prominent among them.

Harry's eyes surveyed the crowd, almost overlooking the new figure. What he saw was what the rest of the mass saw, a weak Professor, comparable to Quirrel. But he saw more than that as well. Harry recalled the times he tried to make himself invisible to those judging and accusing glances. The more dull and unassuming he was the more people would overlook him, the Dursleys would overlook him. This new face whom he correctly guessed to be the Defence Professor was no different. Harry had to wonder about the mystery shrouding this Professor. Every year something happened. And now he had no way to know if this was a Dumbledore lackey, or Voldemort lackey or a sheep. He supposed it was safe to rule out Ministry lackey after the incident last year. There was also no telling if this person was really a coward or an intelligent. He could be on his own side. 

Without warning, those dull, grey eyes met his own curious green ones. So much like his mother's. He wondered if this was another person who claimed to know them, threw that dialogue upon his face and walked away, never telling him who his parents really were. Those eyes seemed to lock him into place and that man refused to remove his eyes from him. They stared at him, not showing any emotion bare the visible apathy and fright to everything around him. Those eyes, they unnerved Harry. He could feel the discomfort rising even as he held the gaze. Somehow, Harry felt that he recognised him even though there was no way to pinpoint it. As if he were just an ant that had captured his attention for a while, the eyes glided on uninterested. Harry leaned back, considering. There was no doubt he had to watch out for this man. The unfortunate thing was that, that was already a given from the start. Except he had something to watch out for. There had to be a backstory behind this peculiar behaviour.