Chapter- 9 : Betrayed Part - 3

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Harry paused before he spoke slowly, "I hate what you did and I am furious with you. Do I hate you?" Ice cold eyes swept over the people in the room as he thought. It was the faces they were wearing, he decided, that complicated everything. "I don't actually know. Let's find out."

He turned to the metal tripod still standing close to Dumbledore. "Yes, I hate you."

The thing gave a short warble and then turned quiet on its own. Harry raised a single eyebrow. "Huh. I guess I truly don't know. Let's call it borderline hatred."

"Will you join Voldemort?" Moody asked, ever vigilant.

Harry paused, rocketing the tension and adding extra drama, but he didn't really need to think about that one. "No," he said with a sigh. "However much I hate you, I hate Voldemort more."

The tension drained away and everyone was left milling, unsure of what to do now.

Harry stood up and calmly strode over towards the doors. The potion was on its last legs and he could feel the anger and hurt bucking and straining against its bonds, slowly seeping back into his system. He needed to get out of here or he would end up duelling everyone and losing badly.

"Wait! There must be some reason you were chosen."

Harry barely suppressed a flinch. Just like marked, chosen was another one of those unpleasant words that reminded him of the crap flung his way on fate's apparent design.

The questions came rapidly now, people trying to get them answered before he reached the door.

"Do you know any obscure spells?" Remus.

"No." Twenty-five feet.

"Are you spectacularly skilled at something?" Tonks.

Defence? There were people with way more training than he had. Parseltongue? Certainly unique, but he'd really only used that a couple of times and while he could speak it he couldn't actually make it do anything useful.

"No." Twenty feet. To his surprise, the tripod whistled. Harry could sense people perking up behind his back.

He came to a halt and tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment.

"Ah," he exclaimed with a wry smile, before pointing skywards. "I am a very good flyer." The whistle quieted.

Harry started walking again.

"That's it?" Tonks asked, upset.

"Yup." He was only a dozen feet from the door now.

"What were your grades like?" McGonagall asked quickly.

"One Outstanding, and mostly Exceeds Expectations for the rest that mattered." Of course they thought he was talking about NEWTs, of which he didn't have any.

"What was your best subject?" McGonagall again.

Here Harry dithered. He really didn't want to answer Defence because then they'd assume he was some kind of master dueller and probably try to force him to fight. Sadly, that was, in fact his best class. Except, well... He did end up fulfilling a prophecy, thereby saving a great many lives, a country and possibly the world. And the answer would irk his former Head of House immensely.

"Divination."

He held his breath, but there was no whistle and then he reached the doors. He put his left hand on the doorknob and reached for his borrowed wand with his right. It was still locked, so he turned around and scowled.

"So," he said slowly. "End of the line." His voice was full of anger once again, as the last of the Calming Draught wore off.

"You've kidnapped, tortured, disfigured, imprisoned and drugged me before violating my privacy by tying me to a fucking lie-detector and forcing me to answer questions. And you call yourself the good guys."

He narrowed his eyes and glared fiercely. "Open this fucking door or I start cursing people."

"Where will you go?" Dumbledore had regained his voice and was now looking at him with an intensity that made Harry uncomfortable.

"As far away from here as possible."

The lie-detector whistled once more, until Harry destroyed it with a silent blasting curse. The thin pale beam of magic looked pathetic with the wand as mismatched as it was, but it was just strong enough to cause a few shrieks as people were pelted with little bits of metal.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Less specific then. Away."

"But you have no money, no home. No friends or family. No proof of education, no background and no past. Legally, you don't even exist." Dumbledore's voice was laced with pity, but Harry understood the underlying threat. There's nowhere for you to go. Behave, or end up in Azkaban.

"Let us help you. You say your best class was Divination? That teaching spot just opened up at Hogwarts. We already know your background, and you can earn some money to land on your feet."

Inwardly Harry was seething, because the fucking prick was right. He had nowhere to go, and probably wouldn't even get out of the room if he tried. Teaching here would give him access to the Hogwarts Library and possibly a way home, because he couldn't rule out that these idiots had buggered up the research too. Barring that, he'd at least have money, food and a roof over his head which was better than during the horcrux hunt.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

"Fine," he snarled.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said happily while his eyes twinkled. "Why don't we adjourn for the day and meet again once tempers have cooled." A small twirl of his wand caused the doors to unlock and open with a deep groan.