They Say Revenge Is A Dish best Served Cold, But I Like Mine Very Hot

The bell over the door to Ollivander's shop rang as Harry followed McGonagall inside. He had been trying for the last twenty minutes to convince her that he didn't need a wand, but the infuriating woman wouldn't budge. She had told him that Dumbledork had told her to get all his supplies for school and they were going to get all his supplies.

Ollivander appeared suddenly out of the back area of his shop and caught sight of McGonagall. "Minerva McGonagall. Eleven inches and hair from a sphinx, correct?"

"Yes, Mr. Ollivander," McGonagall agreed, used to his method of identifying people by the wands he'd sold them. "We are here to get a new wand for Mr. Potter."

Ollivander looked around for the young man and found him standing in the corner in the shadows. His lips quirked in a smile at the words on the t-shirt the boy was wearing: "Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups." It was a sentiment he agreed with, especially these days.

He'd been around a long time. With their current prejudices against any they considered non-human, he was glad that the last wizard who had known what he was had died a thousand years ago. During his lifetime he had seen the rise of wizard kind and was now living through its rather rocky decline. He didn't know what had caused the situation, but wizarding kind thought they were at the pinnacle of development, but they weren't. There hadn't been any real change here for over two hundred years. The wizarding world was currently stagnant. If they were going to survive, then what the wizarding world needed was something or someone to jumpstart another period of growth. What he did know, having lived through the rise and fall of several civilizations, was that if nothing happened to change the situation, then one day, probably within the next couple of hundred years, then the wizarding world would disappear forever.

Who knows, he mused, maybe the catalyst for change will be young Mr. Potter.

Bringing his mind back to business at hand, Ollivander commented. "I was expecting to see you last month Mr. Potter."

"I didn't see the need to get a new wand." Harry told the wandmaker. "I tried to explain to Professor McGonagall that I no longer needed one, but she wouldn't listen." He looked up at the ceiling and muttered loud enough to be heard, "not that she ever does listen to anything I have to say."

"I always listen to what you have to say, Mr. Potter." McGonagall replied through gritted teeth.

"You may hear it, but you either don't listen, or you don't believe it." Harry countered.

"Name one time, you told me something that I didn't listen to or believe." McGonagall challenged him.

Harry took up the challenge. "First year, I and two others who shall remain nameless, told you that someone was going to go after the Philosopher's Stone the day Dumbledore was sent off on that wild goose chase to the Ministry. I believe you told us something along the lines of: 'rest assured the stone is too well protected, no one can possibly steal it' and when I kept insisting, you said 'I know what I'm talking about.' You even threatened to take points from Gryffindor, when we were trying to protect the stone. And what happened later that night? Someone did make a try for the stone and if it hadn't been for me, Quirrell or should I say Voldemort would have had the stone. The protections you had in place a first year could get past, or rather three of us did. If they were that strong and that impenetrable, then we shouldn't have been able to get past even the first of them. But that wouldn't have suited Dumbledore's purpose which was to mould me into the perfect weapon to take out Voldemort, now would it."

McGonagall stood there speechless for several moments as Harry marked off one point in the air. "How dare you accuse the Headmaster of trying to harm you? He has always done his very best to try and protect you and all the other students at Hogwarts!"

"Reeeeaaaallllyyy," Harry drew the word out, the sarcasm very evident in his voice. "His very best included hiring at least two incompetent teachers for Defence Against the Dark Arts. There may have been more, but I can only count the years I was there. Allowing two, count them, two followers of Voldemort free access to Hogwarts and no I am not counting Snape in that group, though I should. Forcing a fourth year student to compete in a competition that was clearly meant for seventh year or higher students. Allowing a Ministry employee who was masquerading as a teacher to torture his students without making any moves to stop it and neither did you come to think of it. Allowing me to be condemned to Azkaban without a fair trial. And wait, I saved the best for last. Dumbledore, who was the executor of my parents' will, violated the terms of it, by placing me with the Dursleys. If that is the very best that Albus Dumbledork can do, then god help us when he does his worst."

"What do you mean he violated your parents will?" McGonagall couldn't believe the venom she was hearing from the young man she thought she had known so well. She was also so surprised by Potter's litany of the Headmaster's supposed crimes that she completely missed the insulting name that he had given to Dumbledore.

"That's none of your business, ma'am. I will deal with Dumbledore on that matter in due course." Harry told her. "I believe we are here to prove why I don't need a wand so that you can return to your school and I can be returned to my prison."

Ollivander, who had been watching the argument with interest, suddenly realized they had both returned their attention to him. "Oh yes, of course, Mr. Potter. Now as I understand it, you can now perform wandless magic, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you have to make the movements as if you were holding a wand when you do the wandless magic?" Ollivander asked. "Do you have to say the incantations?"

"It's not really necessary." Harry told him. "I sometimes do make gestures though that's probably out of habit and those aren't necessarily the ones that went with the spell."

Ollivander nodded, "then you are quite correct, Mr. Potter, you can no longer use a wand. No single wand core would be strong enough to channel and enhance your magic at the level you are capable of working at. You would burn out the core of any wand you handled. You will need a staff."

"A staff!" McGonagall stared at the wandmaker in surprise. There hadn't been a wizard who required a staff since the time of Merlin! Even the Founders of Hogwarts who were the strongest wizards and witches of their age had used wands!

"What's the difference between a staff and a wand other than size, I mean?" Harry couldn't help being curious.

"A staff can have up to ten different cores in it, each selected by the wizard who will be using it. No two staffs are ever exactly the same and no staff will work well for another wizard, unless it is passed on before the current wizard's death, using a blood ritual. Usually what will happen is the staff is buried with the wizard who used it." Ollivander told him.

"Then it would be a waste of your talents to make one for me, Mr. Ollivander, since I do not intend to remain in the wizarding world once this year is up." Harry informed the wandmaker.

"I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Potter." Ollivander was sincere and Harry could tell that he meant it.

"Well, you're probably only one of about a handful." Harry observed. "Personally I think they'll be glad to see the back of me, that way they don't have to be constantly reminded of their stupidity and their narrow-mindedness. Tell me something, Mr. Ollivander. Did you believe I killed Neville Longbottom?"

"I'm sorry to say, that I never decided one way or the other." Ollivander told him honestly. "I tend to want to hear both sides of a issue before forming an opinion. The only side of that I ever heard was the Ministry's and that was undoubtedly slanted to make them look good. I will say this much. There were many unanswered questions, at least in my mind that left me in doubt about your guilt. And as you've experienced first hand the Ministry is very quick to assume guilt and about not bothering to take the time to find out if they have the right person or not. You are not the first they have condemned who was innocent and I doubt that you will be the last. I know for a fact that during the time of Grindelwald, they sentenced a wizard to be Kissed and only found out after the man had been Kissed that he was in fact innocent. That left three children orphaned and the Ministry did nothing to correct their mistake. Because of their actions, the oldest boy became one of Voldemort's staunchest followers until he was killed, and the two girls disappeared while they were still very young and to this day, I do not know what happened to them. You would have thought the Ministry would have learned a lesson from that to use all the tools at their disposal to determine guilt or innocence, but they haven't."

"Well, I thank you for your honesty sir." Harry bowed his head slightly in the direction of the other man, before turning his attention back to McGonagall. "Are we now done, Professor?"

"No, Mr. Potter, we are not done." McGonagall told him firmly. "We came here to get you your wand, but since you will need a staff, then a staff is what we will get."

"Oh and just who is going to teach me how to use it?" Harry sneered. "You? Professor Flitwick perhaps?" He paused then added, "Oh I know, how about the great Albus Dumbledork himself?"

McGonagall heard the insulting name this time "Mr. Potter, I must insist that you show the Headmaster some respect."

"My respect was freely given the first time around to both you and the Headmaster." Harry informed her. "This time both you and he will have to earn it back. And I can tell you right now that, if you keep towing the party line you never will."

Harry turned back to Ollivander. "Well Mr. Ollivander, it seems that you will be making a staff for me, since the Deputy Headmistress wants to waste Hogwarts' money."

Ollivander turned to Professor McGonagall and said, "Professor, just so you are aware, a staff takes at least two weeks to create, once the materials have been chosen by the wizard. Mr. Potter will not be leaving with one today. Do you still wish to have one made?"

"May I borrow your fire, Mr. Ollivander?"

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Harry gave the password to the Fat Lady and then stormed up the stairs to the sixth year dorm. Once there he set the trunk down and unshrunk it. He made sure to put a charm on it that would give anyone a nasty curse if they deliberately touched it. Not that he intended to keep anything he valued in there. He'd learned his lesson last year. The things he valued would be kept in the trunk he had shrunk down to the size of a matchbox in his bookbag. He had placed charms on the bookbag and its contents to prevent them from being destroyed and to keep anyone but him from getting into it.

"Potter, you're back." It took Harry a moment to remember this boy's name: Terry Lorring. He came from a non-wizarding family.

"Brilliant observation, Lorring." Harry sneered. "I'm heading down for lunch now. You might want to warn the others not to touch my trunk or they'll get a nasty surprise."

"You booby-trapped your trunk. Why?" Lorring wanted to know.

"Surely your memory can't be that bad?" Harry countered sarcastically. "I have no intention of losing another trunk to the pyromaniacs of Gryffindor."

"Harry," the other boy began.

"Potter." Harry corrected him.

"Potter then," the other boy tried again. "You have to give us a chance to try and make up for what we did last year."

"I don't have to do anything." Harry interrupted hotly. "You all think that all you have to do is say, 'I'm sorry' and all will be forgiven that things will go back to the way they were. Well it's not going to happen. The Harry Potter, who let people walk all over him, no longer exists. You killed him that day when you burned up his things and condemned him to hell without even bothering to listen to his side of the story. Nothing you do can ever make up for destroying the only memories I had of my parents and my godfather. I will never get those memories back. However, I know from experience that most Gryffindors are too stupid to realise that and will continue to try or do something equally stupid, so why don't you pass the word to all the other traitors in this tower, that unless it has to do with school, to leave me the hell alone."

Terry Lorring watched the older boy leave without giving him a chance to voice any of the arguments he'd come up with over the summer or since seeing him yesterday. He had been shocked when he first saw the article in the Daily Prophet proclaiming Harry Potter's innocence and the fact that he had defeated Voldemort. At first he had been so relieved to read that Voldemort was dead, but then the knowledge of what he had helped the others do to the saviour of the wizarding world had set in. He had spent most of the next day trying to write a letter to the Boy-Who-Lived to let him know how sorry he was and to thank him for destroying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He was just glad he hadn't sent it when he got a letter from Colin, warning him not to write Harry Potter, because of the nasty hexes he would get back if he did.

Remembering the look of satisfaction on Potter's face when he saw Colin sporting the words 'I AM AN IDIOT!' on his forehead, Terry shivered. It had reminded him a lot of Malfoy. He was beginning to wonder if it might not have been a mistake for Harry Potter to return to Hogwarts.

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McGonagall stared at the report on her desk of Harry's afternoon classes. His determination to make things as difficult for everyone apparently had not changed. So far he had gotten detention from at least three more teachers and Gryffindor was currently in negative points, despite the efforts of Miss Granger and other students. He was currently serving the detention she'd given him, for failure to comply with a teacher's orders, with Filch. She dreaded to think of what the House points for Gryffindor would look like after Potions on Friday.

She shook her head wondering if turning young Potter around was going to be worth all the effort they were going to. A knock on her office door distracted McGonagall from her thoughts. "Come in."

Hermione Granger stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. "You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Granger," McGonagall even though she had originally proposed Miss Granger for this task was now having second thoughts about asking her to do it. "I have a task for you, but I want to let you know that you do not have to do it if you don't want to."

Hermione was curious about what could have her favourite teacher so nervous. "What is it ma'am?"

"If you are agreeable, the Headmaster and I would like for you to contact the friends of Mr. Potter's parents and try to get pictures of them so that the album Hagrid gave him his first year can be recreated." McGonagall said quickly.

Hermione was silent for several minutes before she said, "I'm afraid I will have to refuse this assignment, Professor."

"If it would not be prying, may I ask why?"

"I have no desire to be the target of Harry Potter's vengeance. I've found out that he has a mean streak that makes Malfoy look like a wimp by comparison." Hermione told her. "Did you know that in August, he had the Weasleys and I summoned to court at the Ministry?"

When McGonagall shook her head, Hermione continued. "We didn't have to appear before the Wizengamot, but in a smaller court. As the main heir of Sirius Black's estate, he was trying to have several aspects of Sirius' will voided. He apparently hired a very good wizarding solicitor, because he won. Of course that may also have been because the wizard judge, didn't want to do anything to anger Harry. I remember his solicitor saying that based upon the wording of Sirius' will, claiming that we were the friends and family Harry needed while he was growing up had been disproved by our actions at his trial, because real friends and family would have stood by him and not immediately assumed his guilt."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Miss Granger." McGonagall told her.

"That wasn't the thing that convinced me to avoid having him angry at me." Hermione told her. "When I got home, there was a box waiting for me. There was a note on the top of it that said that since I found house elves much more worthy to defend than those I called my friends, that I probably wanted the contents. When I opened the box, I found the shrunken heads of the house elves from Grimmauld Place and the freshly decapitated head of Kreacher. It was still bleeding."

"Oh, my dear," McGonagall looked properly horrified. "How could he do such a thing?"

"Now you understand, why I want to avoid drawing his anger, if at all possible." Hermione told her. "Last night he presented me with a sort of truce. He said that as long as I keep any conversations with him to school matters and did not try to interfere in his life, that he will be civil to me." She looked at McGonagall, her expression serious. "It's a start ma'am and I don't want to blow any chance I may have of getting Harry to forgive me."

"I understand, Miss Granger." McGonagall was pleased to hear that there were at least some signs of thawing from Potter.

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By Friday, Harry still had no wand, but he knew he would be receiving a staff from Mr. Ollivander sometime in the next few weeks. Since Dumbledore had given McGonagall the go ahead, Ollivander was making one out of Ash with seven wands cores. Despite the slight looks of awe when they first saw him either because he was the first wizard since Merlin to need a staff, or because he had destroyed Voldemort, Harry had also managed to rack up detention with every teacher but Hagrid and Binns and that beat the Weasel twins record. He hadn't done anything to deliberately disrupt the classes, but he also hadn't done any of the expected work either. He would just sit in the back of the class and stare at the teacher. If things worked out the way he expected, he would have one of the worst grades at Hogwarts for a sixth year, if they didn't expel him first and knowing Dumbledore, they wouldn't do that.

He was looking forward to today's potions class. Since the expected event hadn't happened yet, he thought that Mr. Boet had managed to arrange it so that it happened during his Potions class, so he would be able to witness it first hand. He made a mental note to thank the man when he saw him again.

Harry finished breakfast and headed down to the Potions classroom. He wanted a front row seat for what was going to hopefully happen today.

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Snape swept into the sixth year class, his robes billowing behind him.

This was the class for those who would be taking their NEWTs in potions in their seventh year. This was one of the few classes where there weren't that many students so all four houses could be combined into the one class. There were only about a dozen students in all who had scored the O on their OWLs necessary to get into this class.

"Well, you've made it into the advanced Potions class." Snape began. "How only Merlin himself knows, but now that you are here, let me tell you what I expect from you...."

Whatever Snape had intended to say, was left unsaid because the classroom door slammed open and four men came into the room.

"Severus Augustus Snape?" The one at the front of the group asked.

"Yes." Snape replied.

"I am Auror Broadmeer." The man identified himself. "You are under arrest sir. Please come with us, Professor Snape."

"On what charge?" Snape demanded.

"Assault and rape of the mind of a student, using the Legilmens curse." Broadmeer said flatly.

Several of the students in the room gasped, while Snape quickly put the pieces together and commented caustically. "Having me arrested on false charges Potter? I would have thought that given your experience of being falsely accused and imprisoned, you wouldn't have tried the same thing on someone else."

"They aren't false charges and you know it, Snape." Harry pointed out. "And unlike me, you will receive a fair trial."

"I insist on speaking to the Headmaster, before you haul me off." Snape told the Aurors.

"We have no problem with that, since he is being charged as an accessory to your crimes." Broadmeer told him. "We were going to have to stop by and pick him up anyway."

"Potter, you will come with us." Snape ordered. "The rest of you, class dismissed."