It had happened when the boy-who-lived was making his way back to the Common Room. In fact, if the hallway hadn't been so quiet, the students so terrified they flinched at any sound, he likely wouldn't have even heard it.
A whisper that seed to echo, but more importantly one with a hiss.
"Just one more"
Harry froze, spinning in place and searching for anyone or anything out of place. There was nothing and for a second, he believed himself to be going crazy. But then he rembered, he rembered his own second year, rembered how he had dismissed the voices in the walls, dismissed all the terrible feelings and suspicions.
Suddenly, it was all so clear. He had made a mistake and then continued making it as ti went on, continued ignoring the evidence and the truth.
He had trusted the adults to handle the problem.
Despite its differences this universe was the sa, deep down it was all the sa. Minor things were altered, sure, but the incompetency of generations was still just as prevalent as where he had co from, perhaps more so since there weren't any excuses this ti around.
His friends had been hurt and his sister petrified along with others all because he had made the wrong choice.
"Potter, catch up." An older student, one leading them between classes, demanded, and he did as requested to avoid any further suspicions.
He knew ti was short, and every attempt thus far had failed. It left him very few options.
****
One of the many, many problems now facing the boy-who-lived was the simple of a lack of privacy. Students couldn't wander about the halls during the day, couldn't talk to a professor outside of very strict ti periods. It made his only plan of action that much more difficult.
And humiliating
"Professor, I was wondering if I could talk to you about setting up so private lessons." The words tasted worse than any of the Bertie Bott's Beans he had tried, worse than the Petunia's cooking, worse than anything he could imagine.
But to save lives he would suffer the disgust, and the embarrassnt.
Lockhart's eyes lit up with poorly concealed glee at his words, and the stares given to him by the other professors in the Great Hall made him want to crawl into a hole. What was he supposed to do though? Stand by like before and hope everything just 'worked itself out', this ti without Dumbledore or Riddle as potential buffers?
He saw, everyone probably saw, the way the woman glanced over to Snape for a mont with an intentional, victorious, smirk before looking back to him. "Of course, Harry I would be delighted to give you private tutoring. How does this weekend sound? I'm sure we could find ti Saturday."
No, he needed it sooner rather than later. Ti was of the essence after all.
"Actually, I was hoping for sothing during the week. I don't to be out of practice."
Again, the woman glanced to the side, but this ti he followed her gaze and noticed the death glare she was receiving from Snape. "Eager to begin I see. Well, I am happy to oblige you, Harry. Let's plan for an evening session, say two days from now?"
It would have to do, and the boy-who-lived promptly ignored the furious glare from a certain potion professor before nodding in agreent and returning to his seat.
****
"What was that?"
Harry looked up from where he had been studying to see his new Head of House borderline glaring down at him. He blinked, confused for a mont, and then playing dumb when he realized what she was referring to. "What was what?"
Her eyes narrowed, and he could tell she was forcing herself not to make an angry comnt. "That display at dinner."
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as if in deep concentration. In reality, he was just drawing out the mont. Pissing off Snape had always been therapeutic and now that he was in her favorite house he could do so without retaliation.
"I don't know what you…"
The response earned him a growled interruption, "Do not act dumb with Harry. You know what I am speaking of, your conversation with Lockhart."
It appeared she wanted to cut right to it, fine, he could do that as well. "I don't have class with Professor Lockhart and with the curfew in place there wasn't any other ti I could approach her."
"There are other instructors at Hogwarts you could have gone to, those more convenient and skilled in your strengths. Those who would be better suited for taking care of you."
He stared back at her, knowing exactly what she wanted him to say. She wanted acknowledgent, for him to ntion her as the best choice, maybe even for him to offer himself to her.
She was going to be very disappointed. "Well, my previous ntor was arrested for sothing she didn't do, and Dumbledore has been removed as well. That leaves with very few options. Lockhart is the best option with her worldly travels and experience. Plus, she was an instructor of a dueling club."
"And yet she is a poor excuse of a duelist. If you recall, I defeated her handedly."
His shrug did nothing to ease her building frustration, "And if you recall I wasn't impressed in the least. I don't like bullies or those who think its impressive to show off by hurting soone. Besides I can already duel, I need an instructor with a wider range of experience."
Snape's irritation grew, "I do not like the way she looks at you or talks to you. It is inappropriate."
Harry, for his part, stared in disbelief for a mont before replying with a heavy amount of angst, "Yeah, it isn't like any other professor at Hogwarts has made inappropriate comnts or actions, hinted at wanting sothing physical from or my family. Can you imagine if such a person existed?"
The look he received in return almost made up for having to speak with the fraud.
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