Title: Hidden in Plain View
Author: Foxtrot Pasta (foxtrot-pasta dot livejournal dot com)
Rating: PG for now, will most probably go up.
Summary: For now, hiding in plain view is your only option. But what happens when plain view isn't as plain as you thought?
Warnings: This story will probably be slash in later chapters. If that isn't your cuppa, please leave now and go read something else.
Author's Notes: This story is unfinished and unbetaed, and I'm posting it here to see how people are responding to it, and if anyone catches a plot hole I hadn't thought about. Also, it's here to feed my ego; if I know that at least one person has read this story, it will make me a lot more motivated to continue it.
The opening paragraph is taken straight from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, by J.K. Rowling, pg. 628 brit ed.; I own it even less than I own the rest of the things you recognise--and I don't own themat all.
And I believe this may call for a proper introduction, and well --The only difference between martyrdom and suicide is press coverage, Panic! At The Disco
Don't you see, I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue?
"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."
The entire Great Hall was silent as Dumbledore sat down. The food appeared on the tables, but not even that brought on the usual clatter of cutlery on porcelain. All Harry wanted to do was stare at it.
"You should eat something," Hermione whispered. The Hall was still eerily quiet; very few people were speaking, and when they did, it was just to ask for something on the table.
The Slytherins didn't have any qualms about the noise, of course. Draco Malfoy was holding court, as usual, laughing loudly and waving his arms around animatedly.
"Bloody wanker," Harry spat, glaring fiercely at him. Truthfully, he would welcome the distraction of another fight.
Ron looked up from his plate, looking paler than usual. "Yeah," he whispered, his eyes unfocused, and just like that, all of Harry's fighting spirit was gone.
The meal was finished abnormally quickly; at least, Harry couldn't remember eating his food at all, but it was gone, so he stood up when everyone else did. It was time for the last night in the dorms until the end of summer; he would have to start packing his trunk tonight to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything, and then it was off to the Dursleys for yet another summer spent longing to go back to Hogwarts again.
"Mr Potter, could you please come with me?"
Everyone turned their heads and stared at Harry. "Yes, Professor McGonagall," he muttered, separating himself from the throng of Gryffindors making their way towards the Gryffindor tower. Though they should be used to him getting special treatment, they still stared at him; he could feel their eyes brining curiously at the back of his neck until he turned the corner.
"Where are we going, professor?" he asked in a subdued voice; while McGonagall never inspired buoyancy, today was extreme.
"Professor Dumbledore's office," she said, looking straight ahead.
"Oh," Harry said. Perhaps he would be blamed for Cedric's death, after all. His eyes flickered to the many short cuts he knew were there; running away would be relatively easy, but keeping away would be less so.
"You will not be punished, Mr Potter," McGonagall said, glancing at Harry in a way he would describe as irritable.
"Thank you, Professor," he mumbled.
"Cadbury's Dairy Milk! Up you go, then."
Harry stepped onto the stairs and closed his eyes to keep the nausea from overwhelming him. He didn't dare think about what Dumbledore might want to tell him—the only thing he could think of at the moment was that maybe Amos Diggory had demanded that Harry be executed before the end of the year, and that thought didn't do much for his nerves.
The door was already open when he got up to the top.
"Please come in, Harry," Dumbledore said softly, as Harry stepped forward. At least Cedric's parents weren't here. "Tea?"
"Please," Harry whispered, unintentionally. His voice didn't quite carry.
"There's no need to worry," Dumbledore said, still using that soft voice. "Everyone realises that you had nothing to do with Cedric's death."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said, still quietly, but no longer in a whisper. "But why did you have me come up here?"
Dumbledore looked gravely at him; gone was the twinkle in his eyes. He looked up at Harry's forehead, and took a deep breath. "We believe it is...unsafe for you to remain at Hogwarts--"
"What!" Harry jumped up in blind shock. "You can't send me away from Hogwarts! It's the safest place in the wizarding world, isn't it!"
"Harry, calm down—"
"Calm down!"
"Please let me finish," Dumbledore said, with a stern note to his voice. "We cannot let you remain at Hogwarts. However, it would be quite safe for... oh, say, Halifax Pratt."
Harry blinked rapidly. "What does--who is--well. That's...nice," he finished lamely. "But I want to stay at Hogwarts."
"Of course! But we can't let Voldemort know that." Dumbledore looked meaningfully at Harry. "His connection to you will be stronger now that he has a body of his own, and I believe it is unsafe for you to be gallivanting about here. Hogwarts is, of course, quite safe, but Voldemort is also quite resourceful."
Harry sighed dejectedly. Dumbledore had a point, and he was unlikely to change his mind, no matter what Harry said. "Where will you be sending me, then, Professor?"
"Nowhere." Harry looked up sharply. This was getting quite ridiculous. "Harry, we're hiding you in plain sight." Dumbledore smiled benignly. "I think Halifax Pratt is a rather fine name, if I do say so myself."
Harry frowned. "I'm not sure I'm following, sir..."
"I'm sure you do. Hogwarts usually doesn't take students after first year, but I'll make up a story about your previous years, and you can come back next year as Mr Pratt."
"Oh," Harry said, intensely relieved. He would be able to go about his life as usual, with a different name. Dumbledore would probably ask him to tell no one but his closest friends, but he wasn't all that close with many people except Hermione and Ron, anyway. "I see."
"Good. Now, Harry," Dumbledore leaned forward. "Obviously, one Gryffindor disappearing and another one appearing at the same time would look rather... odd. However, I seem to remember you telling me there was one other house the Sorting Hat wanted to place you in."
"What? No. Absolutely not." Harry shook his head emphatically. "I'd rather you placed me in Hufflepuff, in that case, sir."
"My dear boy, you wouldn't feel at all comfortable in Hufflepuff. And, for that matter, who would think of looking for you in Slytherin, of all places, hmm?"
Harry swallowed. "I don't have a choice, do I, sir?"
"Quite correct, my dear boy."
