Harry Potter with Technology System

Ch272- As Terrible As Expected

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Once Dumbledore was gone, the tension in the room seemed to lift slightly. The remaining students, still curious, looked to Harry for some sort of direction, but he simply motioned for them to get some rest.

“Best to get back to your rooms before Snape returns,” Harry said, his tone easy but firm enough to make them move.

Draco lingered a moment longer, his gaze still questioning. “You sure there’s nothing else?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, offering a sly grin. “You’ll hear about it if there is. Now go.”

With that, Draco and the others dispersed, leaving Harry alone in the common room. He let out a quiet breath, his mind already running through the night’s events. The dragon distraction had worked perfectly, but it had been far too close. Dumbledore’s sudden appearance near the Slytherin common room hadn’t been a coincidence, and Harry knew he’d need to stay sharp to avoid raising any more suspicion. The question was, why did Dumbledore even suspect him?

As the last of the footsteps faded away, Harry stood in the now-empty Slytherin common room, satisfied that the chaos had finally settled. He cast a quick glance around, ensuring no one lingered behind.

'Dumbledore shouldn’t suspect me,’ Harry thought, frowning. ‘I left nothing behind. Nothing that would give away my identity.’ But something gnawed at him, something he couldn’t quite shake. There had been a moment when Dumbledore had looked right at him, as if he could see through everything. The thought lingered in Harry’s mind, unsettling him.

‘Can it be?’ Harry thought, his eyes narrowing as he focused inward. The Shaman had told him that his Astral Soul was unique, impossible to peer into even when Harry had no control over it. But now... could it be that this very quality had betrayed him? That maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore had sensed something during their brief encounter tonight?

Harry frowned, considering the possibility. He had always assumed his Astral Soul had a natural quality that set it apart, something similar to what Astral Masters possessed without formal training. It was special, sure, but not one-of-a-kind, right?

Could it be that the Astral Soul had tipped off Dumbledore? Harry frowned at the thought. It didn’t seem possible. His Astral abilities were supposed to keep him hidden, not mark him out. It was like wearing black at night—it concealed you well enough in darkness, but in light, you'd stick out like a sore thumb. That didn't sit right with him, though. There had to be something else.

Harry leaned back, thinking it through. 'No, it's got to be Spark,' he decided, the realization dawning on him. 'I’m not sure if Dumbledore recognized her, but if he did, he’d definitely link her to me. After all, the Potters had a history with Thunderbirds.' His father had fought alongside Dumbledore in the war, so it wouldn’t be a stretch for the old man to make the connection.

Though it was far-fetched, Harry couldn't entirely shake the possibility. Spark wasn’t the last Thunderbird in existence. Sure, Thunderbirds were rare, but not so rare that one showing up would instantly blow his cover. And Potter Heaven, his magical briefcase, had been locked away in a vault for years, long forgotten. Dumbledore couldn’t know about Spark. It wasn’t like Harry had left any traces connecting her to him.

No, it was probably just Dumbledore’s instincts at work. The man had a knack for sniffing out trouble. But this time, Harry had played it right—he’d covered his tracks well. Still, he’d need to be careful. If Dumbledore was even remotely suspicious, that would be a headache he couldn’t afford right now.

Sighing, Harry leaned back in the chair. He should’ve picked a different alias. "Albus Riddle" was drawing far too much attention. But could he really come up with a new identity now? Changing his appearance—hair color, eye color, maybe adjusting his features to blend into something unremarkable—wasn’t the hard part. Coming up with a new name was even easier. The real challenge was staying under the radar in Knockturn Alley. How many mysterious wizards could show up in the same shady spots, asking the same dangerous questions, before people started putting the pieces together?

The name "Riddle" already carried a certain weight in the darker corners of the magical world after his last apperance. People were already whispering about him, connecting the dots between his presence and the old legend of Voldemort. He used that aura with the "Albus Riddle" identity intentionally, stirring those whispers. Now, he was stuck with it.

"Brilliant," he muttered to himself as he stood, walking to his room. "I’ve painted myself into a corner. From here on, it’s only going to get worse."

'I need to stick with this identity, don’t I?' he mused, sitting on the edge of his bed. 'Too many people have already heard the name. Changing it now would make things worse. Besides, if they’re scared of Riddle, that’s to my advantage.'

He knew things would only get more dangerous from here. This wasn’t a game anymore, not that it had been to begin with. There was no margin for error. The world he was navigating was full of people who wouldn’t hesitate to exploit the slightest weakness. 

Harry glanced out the window, the faint glow of the moon casting shadows across the floor. He would have to play it smart, stay one step ahead. And for that, "Albus Riddle" was the perfect cover. Even if it painted a target on his back, it was the best way to get what he needed without tipping his hand too soon.

The next day, Defense Against the Dark Arts was about as miserable as Harry had expected. From the moment Umbridge walked in, the entire class braced themselves for what would undoubtedly be two tedious hours. Her voice, sickeningly sweet yet commanding, filled the room as she explained her curriculum: no practical lessons, just theory, and a heavy dose of Ministry regulations. It was a complete farce.

By the time class ended, the students were groaning in frustration. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs filed out together, muttering complaints under their breath. Susan and Hannah joined Harry and his friends, their expressions as sour as everyone else's.

"That was bloody awful," Daphne grumbled, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "If I wanted a Ministry lecture, I’d have just stayed home."

"Yeah, if I hear one more thing about 'Ministry-approved' defense tactics, I might hex myself just to break the monotony," Blaise added with a roll of his eyes.

Pansy, looking thoroughly disgusted, let out an exaggerated sigh. "I need the Duelling Club now, just to cleanse my brain of whatever that was."

"Honestly, I think she enjoys torturing us," Tracey remarked dryly, walking alongside the group.

Harry stayed silent but smirked, listening to the complaints. He wasn't surprised by the sheer uselessness of Umbridge's teaching, but seeing his friends so riled up was at least mildly entertaining. They had all hoped, if not begged, that this year’s DADA lessons might be at least somewhat useful after last year's Lupin. That hope had just been thoroughly stomped on.

"At this rate, the only thing we’ll be defending ourselves against is boredom," Daphne muttered. "And even that’s getting harder."

Hannah let out a soft groan of agreement. “How can she justify leaving out creatures? We're supposed to be learning about defending ourselves, not listening to her read rules!”

Susan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, does it? If we get attacked by a werewolf or a Dementor, we’re supposed to kindly ask them to leave, according to Umbridge.”

Tracey snickered at that. "Yeah, that'll work. Maybe she can have us write a strongly worded letter to the Ministry while we’re at it."

"Ridiculous," Pansy agreed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Honestly, a boggart could show up in class and she’d probably give us detention for acknowledging it."

Harry shot a grin at Pansy, a sly glint in his eye. Draco, ever the observant one, was quick to catch on. "I know that look, Harry. You're plotting something. Spill it."

Harry chuckled, leaning back with an almost casual air. "Maybe later. But, I’ve got to say, Pansy’s given me some... inspiration. Appreciate it, Pansy."

Pansy squinted at him suspiciously. "Why are you being so nice to me? Who are you—"

Before she could finish, the rest of the group rolled their eyes and chimed in simultaneously, "And what have you done to Harry? Yeah, original."

Pansy snorted, shaking her head. "Not everyone here is well-versed in your weird jokes. I'm just catching up."

Draco smirked. "You’re behind, Pansy. We’ll get you up to speed."

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