He's the Raven (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Chapter 5: <Becoming>

"Parseltongue"
Spells
>memory/ dream
"Speech"
'Thoughts'

I'm only continuing this for the sake of you readers. :)

The first portion of the year was honestly... boring. Harry didn't need to study, as he already had the knowledge of what was taught. Perks of being blessed by death, you know.

Most of the time, he either spent time with Draco and the Twins, or by himself. He enjoyed pondering on the future in the middle of the night, sitting on a random ledge on the outside of the castle. If he was bored, he would summon a musical instrument and play it. He was a person who did appreciate music. Harry's favourite instrument was a guitar. Only the best guitarists are the most experienced musicians, he thought. Pianists? Sure, he could play the piano, but he honestly thought that playing the piano was a 'cheap' way of playing music, a easy way to play music. Playing the guitar was actually a challenge, as one had to put in time and effort to learn a chord. People think playing the guitar is lame, Death has once told him, but Harry had merely snorted and smiled. If they thought it was lame to play the guitar, they should show him if they could play the simplest song, like maybe a children's song, without strumming, but with finger-picking style.

Back to the story. There were honestly a few times which got his attention, like his first potions class, in which he managed to wrangle the respect out of the Slytherin Potions Master, Severus Snape. Or maybe that time in charms when he snuck one of those... mobile phones, which he may or may not have stolen from Death, and played Dear Evan Hansen, the Musical. He had hidden the phone, and relished in the confusion and appreciation of the music that had ensued. He had been caught by the charms professor, but rather than being angry at Harry, Flitwick had been extremely enthusiastic about the strange device. He was so excited that he was going to tell the whole school about this, or even the whole Wizardring World, but the young angel made him swear not to inform anybody of its existence, as its consequences would be dire.

Finally, he got caught.

It was around... honestly he didn't know. He had lost track of time. All he knew was that it was midnight, and he was, once again, sitting on a window ledge, staring out into the night sky. Then he had taken to playing his guitar. He also had released his wings. It had been a while since they were out.

"Wha..."

Harry froze mid-song. He didn't need to turn around to know that the resident Potions Master was behind him. He subtly morphed into his older form, trying to cover up his identity. He then turned around.

"What the- POTTER?!"

Oops. He had forgotten that his older form looked similar to James Potter.

"Err... hi?" He tried.

"How a-are you alive?? Oh, maybe the gods have finally allowed me to have one final revenge against James Potter?" Severus Snape sneered, wearing a strange expression as he looked around warily. Strange... There was something off about that sneer. It sounded rather fake and half-hearted.

"Yeah so... about that... I'm not James Potter," Harry tried to find the words to say. And he was failing.

"Then... who are you? You can't be the Potter spawn..."

He stayed silent, not meeting the professor's eye.

"No... it can't be..." Snape's eyes widened.

Harry moved his wings. They were starting to ache in the position they were in.

Snape's eyes were trained on his wings. "T-that's the m-mark of an Angel..."

How could he salvage the situation now.