Mercury

by Hecateslover

Harry's biggest influence growing up in the muggle world was Freddie Mercury.W-What? He wanted to be a rock star when he grew up. He'd never planned on being a wizard... NOW UPDATED AND REVISED!

Title: *Mercury*

Category: Books » Harry Potter

Author: Hecateslover

Language: English, Rating: Rated: M

Genre: General

Published: 04-09-12, Updated: 04-09-12

Chapters: 1, Words: 25,730

*Chapter 1: Chapter 1*

Harry's biggest influence growing up in the muggle world was Freddie Mercury.W-What?

He wanted to be a rock star when he grew up. He'd never planned on being a wizard- but hey, go with the flow, right? The wizarding world will never know what hit it.

Harry/many- het and slash :3

There will undoubtedly be lemony goodness in the future, but not for a while yet. After all, Harry's only a firstie in this chapter. I also really, really recommend to listen to the songs that I mention in this story, to really get the full affect. There's a good variety, and you never know, you might discover something you like! :3

x-x-x

Harry sighed, and took a deep breath. His fingers began to press down on the keys, closing his eyes. He sat at a piano, in the music room of his primary school. He often hid out here in the morning before school began, during recess, and sometimes he would even sneak into the school at night to play. It beat being locked up in his cupboard.

He was reading the sheet music before him, swaying in time. He loved playing at night- no one else was in the building, so he could play as loud as he wanted. When he wasn't playing the piano, he got into the music teacher's stash of vinyls that she had hidden in the storage closet, and spend nights listening to Queen, David Bowie, the Beatles, the Who, and many more.

Harry wanted to be a rock star. Not just any rock star, but he wanted to be a legend, a superstar up there with the likes of Freddie Mercury. He loved the man's music, his voice, his style. He was so cool! Of course, the Dursleys put the singer down every time he was in the news or on the telly- he was a freak, a fag, a poof- whatever else they could come up with. It didn't bother Harry much- they often called him those things too.

The only thing was, Freddie Mercury had a band, with amazing guitarists and a drummer, and sometimes he played the piano, or had someone else play for him. Harry didn't have anyone like that, and wouldn't find anyone like that around here. One day, he was going to run away to London, and start his very own band.

Until then, he would practice. Harry played the piano until his hands were sore and until his throat was raw from singing. He practiced his scales, moving quickly onto sheet music. Some of it was the school's sheet music, others were photo copied from the library.

Harry wanted to write his own music, but he hadn't gotten to that point yet. One day, he would. One day, he'd be up stage, with everyone cheering his name, and he'd be on the telly, and the Dursleys would be soooo jealous.

Harry finished his practicing at about 2am, and went for a jaunt around the school. Sometimes he managed to find a treasure trove of items, like Ms. Higgin's albums, or food in the cafeteria. He didn't linger much in the library- just long enough to see if there was any good music or art books. You see, he'd done his research. Freddie had actually gone to school for art and graphic design, of all things, and certainly had a way with words.

Harry wasn't the most academic sort, but if he was going to be a musician one day, he'd have to put the work in now. Science and math was never his sort of thing, but he liked learning new words and trying to come up with rhymes for them. He also liked to read fairy tales and the like- he knew a fair few of the muses of the greatest musicians were from old folk songs, ancient lore, and fairy tales.

Everything he did was done with a goal in mind. Harry was relentless in his research and wanting to become a great musician. He did his research on the more stuffy classical composers and the like. They seemed a bit boring (unless you found out about their various affairs and things, and that wouldn't be in the school's library), but their music wasn't. He was just as excited about Mozart and Racmaninoff as he was about Dizzy Gillespie, The Beatles, or even John Cage. He was taught that thinking outside the box wasn't such a bad thing, and that you couldn't learn everything from a book. That you had to experience life, and share what you learned; share your Message.

It was dawn as Harry finally snuck out of an open window, and made his way back to Privet Drive. The primary school wasn't too far away, and when he ran, it took him less than ten minutes to get back. His bookbag banged against his back, and Harry's heart felt lighter with every step he took.

Soon, he would be in secondary school, and he would finally be able to have proper music classes, and hopefully find others who were interested in forming a band.

Later on that day, Harry was scrubbing the kitchen floor, trying to do it at a beat to at least make things a little bit more interesting. He often did this when cleaning or cooking.

"Boy! What on earth are you doing?" Harry turned his head slightly to see his Aunt in the kitchen doorway, hands on her hips. She was looking down her long pointy nose at him, lips pursed.

"...Scrubbing the floor?" Harry asked, a bit confused.

The woman's eyes narrowed.

"I want everything to be neat and tidy for Dudder's birthday tomorrow. Don't you dare ruin his big day for him!"

Harry sighed, and he was left alone once more. He began his scrubbing, counting under his breath. "And...one, two three...and one, two, three..."

Harry continued his cleaning until late in the afternoon, and then he was sent to his cupboard. Harry laid on his thin mattress, staring up at the spiders, watching them make their webs. He'd always liked watching them...it was kind of cool. He and the spiders had a deal- they didn't bother him, and he didn't bother them. He loved the patterns they made- quite intricate, and he knew that spiders caught their prey on that silk, feeling through vibration...he wondered what those vibrations sounded and felt like. He would watch them with their prey silently, wondering if flies could scream. Morbid thoughts for such a young boy, but Harry wasn't really...normal.

He felt exhausted- after all, he only got a couple of hours of sleep the night before. But he was used to little sleep. He didn't have much time to himself during the day, and the time he did have, he was stuck in this cupboard.

He rolled onto his stomach, reaching through a cubbyhole, taking out a magazine he'd filched. It had been one of Aunt Petunia's. Usually she read icky magazines about 'women's problems' and the like, but Harry's eye caught on the man on the cover. The most beautiful, awesomest guy ever- David Bowie.

David was a close second to Freddie, in Harry's opinion. He flipped through the magazine, humming softly as he glanced through the photos. Glossy pictures of girls all kitted up in outrageous outfits didn't make him glance twice- they looked stupid anyways. Far too much fluffy hair, and stupid expressions. He slowed as he stopped at a picture of a singer. This guy was an American, that he'd heard mention of on the telly once or twice.

His name was Kurt Cobain, and he was a guitarist for a new band named Nirvana. Harry stared at his picture. The guy was a bit grungy and looked...well, he dressed like Harry did before Harry was able to take in his hand-me-down clothes. Harry frowned slightly, and flipped a few more pages, smiling as he saw David Bowie.

"Mr. Bowie, you're amazing." Harry whispered to the man's picture, a grin lighting up his face. The lightbulb above his head didn't provide much light, but it was enough to see the man's visage. The man had started a new Band, called the Tin Machine, but they weren't doing all that hot. Harry didn't care about that. He was a big fan of the man's earlier work, but still followed his music on the radio, along with all the other current bands.

At the Dursley house, they wouldn't listen to such 'trash' like Bowie and Freddie, but they did allow Dudley listen to his explicit crap. Harry felt as though if you were going to cuss people out, you should at least do it with style. Harry wholeheartedly believed in the power of words, of lyrics. They made a strong statement, more than any short skirt or wink of an eye. Sure, it might help things along, but he believed in spreading a Message.

He just hadn't figured out what he wanted his Message to be yet.

x-x-x

Harry found himself at the zoo the following day, as Mrs. Figg had broken her leg and couldn't look after him. Harry was ecstatic to get to go, because he'd always wanted to go. Unfortunately, the rest of the Dursleys were with him, and as usual, calamity ensued.

The entire ride home, Harry knew he was in big, big trouble. Only freaks talked to snakes, only freaks made glass disappear. Sometimes...just sometimes, he wished he'd disappear too, so no one could hurt him anymore.

As soon as Piers was sent home, Harry was locked up in his cupboard, and would stay there for the next month. Being locked up, he couldn't even sneak out of the house at night, and he resigned himself to writing in his notebooks, trying to listen hard to the telly and the radio, not wanting to be deprived of his music.

It had been the longest time he'd ever been locked up. Not only that, the Dursleys fed him even less than usual, and that was saying something. He sometimes got really tired, and it was hard to think straight...it really sucked.

Harry was mending an old t-shirt when he heard a news bulletin on the telly that made him go still. Freddie Mercury was sick. Really sick. People had been saying he'd been sick for a while now, some even said that he might have even caught that...AIDS thing. But Harry didn't want to believe it. Freddie was a legend, a God amongst men, he...he couldn't die, right?

Harry found himself crying into his t-shirt, trying to stifle his sobs. Freddie was never going to die. He just couldn't.

x-x-x

Harry sat in front of his birthday cake that was drawn in the dust on the ground. After the strangest events, he and the Dursleys were now staying out in the middle of nowhere. Harry stared at the cake, sighing.

"I wish...to have an amazing, fabulous life, with lots of music, fun, and...and love. That I will make friends, and finally find a place where I belong." He whispered, hoping that his wish would come true. It might take some work, but he would make it happen.

Harry blew at the dust, and the cake faded away. He smiled sadly, and was about to curl up in his blanket with three loud thuds banged on the door. Harry's eyes went round, and he looked down at the floor where the cake had just been. "No way." He whispered.

The door fell to the ground with a smash, and a large man stood there. He came into the room, and Harry gasped. The man had wild looking hair and beard, and was...huge! Harry didn't even know there were guys around that large!

"Harry!"

Harry's mouth dropped open further. "Who are you?"

Hagrid told him about being a wizard, about him being a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of course, the Dursleys didn't want him going- imagine Harry's shock that they actually knew what he was, and the little fact that his parents hadn't died in a car accident, but had been murdered by a mad wizard. Hagrid gave him his first ever birthday cake, and Hagrid showed him a bit of magic by giving Dudley a pig's tail, and lighting a fire.

Harry was pretty starry-eyed after that.

"So...are there wizard musicians?"

Hagrid's beetle eyes looked at him curiously. "Well...uh, yeah, I suppose so. There's the Weird Sisters, and Celestina Warbeck. There's lotsa others, but I don't follow music much."

"Does Hogwarts have music classes?" Harry asked hopefully, wondering if magical music classes were cooler than regular music classes.

"eh, no, but we have a choir." Hagrid said with a smile.

Well, that sucked, but at least he could sing with a group.

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?" Harry murmured, shaking his head, quoting one of his favorite songs. Hagrid gave him a strange look. Harry gave him a sheepish smile. "It is hard to believe, you know. I always knew something was different about me, but I always thought it

was just..." Harry trailed off with a blush. "You're saying that I'm a hero, that I am Famous in your world...but I'm famous for something I don't even remember doing. I'm famous because I lived, and my parents died."

Hagrid looked at him sadly. "Yeah. Try to get some sleep, we've got a

big day tomorrow. 'ere, you can use my coat. It's mighty cold out here."

"...won't you be cold, Hagrid?"

The giant of a man shrugged, wrapping Harry up in his coat. Harry smiled at him tentatively, unused to the foreign scent- it smelled earthy, like dirt and leaves, and something else he couldn't quite place.

As Harry curled up next to the fire, huddled in the large coat, he

looked over at Hagrid.

"Hagrid?"

"...hmm?" The man was lying down now, trying to get comfortable.

"Tell me about Hogwarts."

Hagrid chuckled, a low rumbly sound that Harry found he quite liked. What instrument could mimick that sound? He wasn't sure.

"I've lived at Hogwarts for most of me life, Harry. I could tell ya a lot. What do you want to know?"

"What do you do exactly?" Harry asked, turning over on his stomach, resting his head in his arms.

"I work in the forest an on the grounds. I take care of the animals and sometimes I cover for Kettleburn, our Creatures Professor, when he's stuck up in the hospital wing."

Harry yawned, looking at the crackling fire not too far away. "What does it look like? How many kids go? Do witches really fly brooms? What sort of animals do you look after?"

x-x-x

Hagrid arrived to Hogwarts late in the afternoon on July 31st, and walked to Dumbledore's office. The other staff members were just gathering together. Hagrid handed over the package to the Headmaster,

who pocketed it with a smile.

"Thank you Hagrid. I hope that all of your errands were successful?"

Hagrid grinned, and sat down on a conjured bench that creaked ominously underneath him. Snape snuck in, and stood in his customary corner. All of the Heads of Houses were there now.

"Yeah, took me a while to track 'em, but I found him." Hagrid said.

McGonagall spoke, lips pursed. "So why didn't he reply to the letters?"

Hagrid's smile faded. "Those muggles didn't want him going to Hogwarts, so they kept the letters from 'im. Didn't even want him to know about magic."

At all of their outraged looks and gasps, Dumbledore attempted to calm them down. "But you found him and gave him his letter."

"Oh yeah." Hagrid chuckled. "Bright lad. Looks a bit like James, but with Lily's eyes. Honestly, he looks a bit more like his Grandad. An' he's so little too, smaller than I ever remember Lily an' James bein'. And there was somethin'...femenine about 'im." Hagrid looked thoughtful at this, while the other staff members glanced at one another. "Kept asking me questions, even though the muggles looked like they were about to throttle him."

"But why would they keep Harry's heritage from him? How did he think his parents died?" Sprout asked.

Hagrid's face turned stony. "Those muggles told 'im that they died in a car crash. I don't think those muggles did right by Harry, not at all."

"You...you don't think they hurt him?" McGonagall asked carefully.

"...nah. Don' think so. Anyways, I went with him to Diagon Alley. He just abou' cried when he saw his Trust Vaul'. He was real polite to the Goblins, even though he was a bit nervous about them. After gettin' his supplies, oh, Albus in the wand shop-"

"I got a note from Ollivander, Hagrid." Albus cut in, eyes twinkling. "Continue with your story."

"Er...alright. Well, instead of buyin' all his books new, he bought them second hand and practically dragged me to the instrument shop a bit further down the road. Apparently the tyke likes music!"

Dumbledore's smile widened at this.

Hagrid went on. "The clerk had a bit of a heart attack when the lad just sat down at the piano and started to play- and he was bloody good too! The boy wanted to get an instrument righ' there, but I told him we didn't have enough time. Anyways, he ran into Draco Malfoy at Madam Malkin's, and the boy got a bit worried about his Sortin'. I set him to rights, though."

Snape snorted at this, but it was ignored by everyone.

"He got his school clothes, but the lad was askin' all sorts of questions to Madam Malkin that made my head spin- did ya know there's a specific color charm so it doesn't fade away from cloth? He and Madam Malkin 'ad a little lesson right there in the shop."

"...he didn't actually use his wand, did he?"

Hagrid started laughing at McGonagall's question."Nah, the boy saw right around tha' rule right away and asked if he could use hers... she didn' let him though. Oh, and I got the boy a present. I got 'em an owl-"

"Hagrid!" McGonagall chastised, but her lips were twitching into a smile. "You really should be a bit more unbiased."

"Wha? It's not like he got any presents before. The boy was cryin' when he told me, and told me tha' it was the first present he ever got from anybody."

The room was silent at this, and the adults put everything together quickly.

"We can't have him stay there with those people, Albus." McGonagall said

quietly.

Albus shook his head. "With the blood wards, that is where he is safest. Under other circumstances, I would think differently."

The others began to talk about their preparations for the upcoming school year, and Minerva talked about some of the muggleborns that would be coming that year. But in one person's mind, an idea began to form.

x-x-x

Harry managed to find his way to King's Cross on September First, with no help from the Dursleys. Sometimes strange things showed up on the doorstep when he came to collect the milk in the mornings. There was always a cat, sitting on the sidewalk and watching him, nearly every morning. The cat would watch him pick up the small vials and odds and ends- healing potions, they were labeled, some wrapped sandwiches and biscuits...still, after seeing Diagon and everything, he certainly wasn't going to question his strange good fortune.

His last month in the muggle world was spent getting ready for Hogwarts. In addition to his trunk, his bookbag was full of sheet music, either photocopied or filched from Little Whinging Public Library or the school library. He'd also learnt how to use the Knight Bus, and took advantage of it wholeheartedly.

He had also taken advantage of his trust vault at Gringott's. He learnt that he could convert his money to muggle money, at £10 per galleon. At the conversion rate, he had a total of £125,000 in his vault, and he would get more when he turned thirteen, when he inherited the rest of his family's vault (there was a whole lot more money in that one). Still, Harry knew that it would be a while yet before he could get a proper job, and part of that money went towards his tuition at Hogwarts. Being responsible, most of his books and things were second hand, except for things like his wand and his school robes.

Of course, being an eleven year old, that didn't stop him from converting some of his money and buying a record player. Instead of an electric, he got an old windup one, after seeing that electricity and magic didn't mesh. Even the thought of not being able to listen to his music while at school was blasphemy.

And Harry thought the wizarding world seriously needed to update their music selection. He spent a day in London hitting up all the record stores, building a rather impressive collection of records- old, new, foreign, just a bit of everything. He ended up spending approximately the same as you would on a Cleansweep Seven with all the records he got.

Harry, of course, stashed as many as he could into his trunk, making a special compartment for them. In addition to the record-buying binge, he also went bargain shopping at some clothing stores in London. Of course, doing all this shopping had to be done carefully. People would notice if he bought a large amount of things all at once, so he managed to buy small amounts of cheap items at numerous stores, consolidating bags and such to make it look like he had bought less than he had. He didn't want

to look as though he'd stolen a lot of money.

The clothes he ended up getting were mostly things from second hand stores- old band t-shirts, jeans, a couple of pairs of shoes, and a few other unique finds that Harry just HAD to get. Like a pretty bauble he'd found in a second hand shop- a pin of a bluebird with topaz wings. Of course, it had to be hidden away, lest the Dursleys get their hands on it and Dudley accuse him of being a poof. Again.

He stood at King's Cross, dragging his trunk behind him with one hand, Hedwig in her cage, in his other hand. He had a bookbag slung over his shoulder. Everything was getting kind of heavy, so he pushed his way through the crowd. He realized he was attracting a lot of stares, and it probably wasn't because of his Fame, or whatever.

He wore a pair of fitted grey trousers, with his HUGE black leather jacket, his pink and purple striped t-shirt, and bright red converse. He certainly stood out in comparison to the crowds on Platform 9and 3/4- the majority wore flowing robes of brocade and silk, and their hair was done elaborately. He really did like some of the robes and things, but he was too small to pull that look off yet. At least most of the men around here seemed to have longer hair, like he did.

Aunt Petunia hated his haircut. It had just grown like that one day, and like always, it had grown back whenever she tried to cut it. His hair fell about his shoulders and waves, and his bangs just brushed into his eyes. He thought he looked kind of like a young Freddie. He couldn't wait to get contacts or something- these glasses were hideous.

Harry knew he didn't fit in here, and he wasn't going to try to. While the wizarding world was his new home, he would adapt and such, but he was still going to be his own person.

Harry got onto the ruby red train, and grinned at all the kids who were

looking at him dubiously.

"Hey, I'm Harry Potter. Anyone care to share a compartment with me?"

x-x-x

Harry soon regretted his words, as he was put into a compartment of overeager fans clamouring for his attention. He escaped as soon as he could, into a compartment where a bushy haired girl was reading. She glanced over, doing a double take at his clothes, a slow up and down look that Harry recognized.

Harry gave her a sheepish smile. "Hey."

"Hullo." The girl gave him a prim look.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead."

Harry sat down, glancing at the door. He turned to look at her, noting her muggle clothing- she hadn't changed into her robes yet. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. And you are?"

"Hermione Granger." They shook hands, and the girl's eyes flicked to his forehead. She blushed at Harry's glare.

"Sorry. Did you know that you're in Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts? And in-"

"I've never been interviewed in my life. The stuff they say about me isn't true."

"...oh."

Harry wondered why she was sitting so stiffly. He recognized her expression from the ones that the women on Privet Drive gave him. He glanced down at the book she was reading.

"Hogwarts:A History? Is it good?"

The girl nodded, smiling hesitantly. "Oh yes, very good. This is the third time I've read it now."

Harry blinked. He wanted to ask why she'd read the same book 3 times, but didn't. He looked out the window. "So you're a First year, right?"

She nodded. "And you are too, yes?"

"Yeah. So, what House do you want to get Sorted in?"

"Gryffindor, I think." The girl paused. "But Ravenclaw wouldn't be too

bad either. What about you?"

Harry shrugged. "No clue. Hagrid said Slytherin was full of dark

wizards, but that's just stupid. I figure if they were all Dark Wizards,

they wouldn't be allowed in the school. They're all kids, just like us.

From what I've heard, Hufflepuff is full of duffers, but I heard that

they're pretty hard working too. Ravenclaw is for the smarties, and

while I like to read now and again, I'm not terribly smart."

Hermione's brows rose at this.

Harry laughed. "Look, I'm not one to brag. I don't try to make myself

look good by lying. While I don't mind reading, it's for a specific

purpose, and only in certain subjects. I could care less about math and

science."

The girl gasped at this, looking as though Harry had told her the Easter

Bunny wasn't real.

Harry laughed again. "Sorry, but I have my strengths and my weaknesses.

I'm sure there are some things that you don't like to learn about?"

At the girl's expression, he backtracked. "Er, maybe not?"

"I like to learn." She said in a small voice.

"There's nothing wrong with that. So, you're a muggleborn, right?"

Hermione nodded, and Harry grinned. "Thought so, with the denim and

such. I grew up in the muggle world, too, if you can't tell." He laughed at this, knowing it was obvious.
"What sort of music do you like?"

"Music?" Hermione echoed, sounding uncertain.

"Yeah, music. Do you play any instruments, or what sort of music do you

listen to on the radio?"

Hermione fiddled with the page in her book. "Well, I had some piano

lessons, when I was younger, and...and...I like musicals..." Her blush

deepened.

Harry grinned widely. "I play the piano too! Who is your favorite composer?"

Harry prodded her into a conversation about music and the piano, until

they were interrupted by the trolley lady.

Harry grimaced as he rummaged through his pockets. "I forgot all of my

things in the other compartment."

Hermione glanced about. "You were sitting elsewhere? You left the others..."

"I'll just go get my things and be right back." Harry said with a grin.

He walked back to his former compartment, pasting a smile on his face as

he entered.

"Harry! Where have you been buddy?" "Hey Harry- look guys, I told you he

was here earlier-" "Hi Harry-"

"Hullo guys. I just wanted to grab my things. It's a bit crowded in

here, you know? I'll see you guys at the school, alright?" He gave them

all a bashful smile, grabbing his things, and getting out of there

before they could convince him to stay. His smile dropped as he walked

down the corridor.

He didn't want groupies or hangers-on. He didn't want people to be

friendly with him just because of his fame. He thought it would be fun, until faced with all those kids- now he knew for certain. He went into the compartment he was sharing with Hermione, and saw her smile. She looked a bit nervous- had she thought he wasn't going to come back?

"Well, good thing I brought some of my own food. You think the trolley

lady will come by again?" Harry asked as he put his things away.

"...I'm not sure. You have a lovely owl, Harry."

"Her name is Hedwig. She's gorgeous, isn't she?" Harry said, glancing

back at her. "You don't mind if I let her out of her cage, do you?"

"I don't mind." Hermione said. Harry let Hedwig out of her cage, and he

motioned for Hermione to sit next to him.

"You can pet her if you like. Just be careful, she's a bit of a

snob...oh, she likes you!" Harry said with a grin.

Hermione smiled tentatively at him, ruffling the bird's feathers.

"Hedwig is the Patron Saint of Orphans. Did you know that?"

"Huh. No. I just flipped through my History of Magic textbook and

pointed at a name." Harry laughed a bit nervously. "Me and Church don't

mix well."

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully. "Why not?"

Harry just shrugged, looking out the window. "The muggles I grew up

with. They went to Church every Sunday, but were the biggest Hypocrites

I'd ever seen."

"...oh." Hermione said quietly.

"I don't mind the music, of course, the hymns are alright. It's just the

people. So! I reckon it's about time to get ready, yeah?"

x-x-x

Harry stood in the Entrance Hall, feeling rather nervous. Hogwarts was a

beautiful castle, and he could practically feel it's magic vibrating

underneath his converse, up through his body, all the way to his

fingertips. He had the sudden urge to play the piano- his fingers

wiggled at his sides in an unseen tune. McGonagall left the first years

to get themselves ready. Harry had simply ran a hand through his hair,

knowing there wasn't much else he could do to it. It kind of had a mind

of its own, even when it was longer like this.

Hermione was murmuring spells under her breath, impressing Harry with

her repetoire, but at the same time, annoying him.

"Hermione, don't worry. Be calm, relax." Harry whispered into her ear.

"You'll do just fine. Wherever we end up, we end up. I'll still be your

friend, yeah?"

Hermione looked as though she was about to cry. "Really?"

Harry gave her a smile, and suddenly someone spoke behind him.

"So you're really Harry Potter."

Harry turned slightly, seeing the blonde boy from the robe shop. Harry

gave the slightest of nods, and the other first years around them began

to whisper.

The boy plastered on a charming smile, and Harry could see clearly that

it was fake. He held out a hand to Harry.

"Pleased to meet you, Potter."

Harry shook his hand, watching the boy's eyes. He was nervous, although

the rest of his body language didn't say it.

"And you're Draco Malfoy. Nice to meet you Draco."

The blonde's nervousness eased, and his smile widened slightly. Their

hands let go.

"So, Potter, have any idea what House you'll be Sorted into?"

Well aware of the stares, Harry only shrugged. "No idea. I figure that

wherever I'm placed, I'm placed there for a reason. All the Houses have

their good points."

A few looked a bit scandalized at the thought, but anything else that

could be said was cut off with McGonagall's arrival.

They entered the Great Hall, and the Sorting began. Harry looked out

over the crowd of students, idly listening to where everyone was Sorted.

Hermione was Sorted into Gryffindor, and Harry sort of hoped to be there

with her. It didn't hurt that his parents had been Sorted into that

House as well.

Harry glanced at the other tables. Many of the students were glancing

his way, but trying not to look as though they were staring.

Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin, of course, and so were his two

henchmen. Harry breathed in deeply, trying to get over his jitters, as

his name was called.

Harry walked forward, and sat down, McGonagall placed the hat on his head.

Surprise flickered on his face for a moment, and the students grew antsy

as the hat remained silent for a few long moment.

Harry had to stifle a laugh, just before the Hat called out "Gryffindor!"

He handed the hat back to a pleased looking McGonagall, and practically

ran to Hermione's side. While the whole table was cheering, it was clear

that the happiest one there was her.

They gave each other a brief hug, and the Sorting continued.

x-x-x

His first night in the Gryffindor tower was an eventful one. Harry

looked to his dormmates, the boys he would be sharing a room with for

the next seven years. Ronald Weasley had quickly claimed the space next

to Harry's bed, while Harry took the closest bed to the loo and one of

the two windows in the whole room.

Ron was a pureblood, and the younger brother to the red headed Twins

Fred and George, and Percy the Prefect. Ron had his family's bright red

hair, and was covered with freckles. He was also tall and gangly, and

had blue eyes. Harry could tell his family didn't have a lot of money,

considering the hand-me-down stuff he wore and second-hand trunk. Then

again, Harry wore second-hand stuff as well.

Then there was Dean Thomas. He was currently putting up posters of

Soccer players above his bed- he was a muggleborn. Dean was one of the

few black kids in the whole school, and Harry wondered if wizards had a

problem with racism. He hadn't really seen any evidence of that, just

bigotry on blood status. Dean Thomas was a muggleborn, so he could

be picked on because of that. From what Harry understood, Dean was an

only child, and he lived with his Mother. He was from London. Harry was

glad to have at least one muggleborn in the room that would get his

music choices.

Seamus Finnegan was at his side, putting up his own Quidditch Posters.

Seamus was from Ireland, and he was a halfblood. His Father was a

muggle, and his mother was a witch. Seamus had two older sisters. He was

a joker, and liked to laugh a lot. He always seemed to be smiling, for

some reason or another. Despite his Father being a muggle, he didn't

seem to get why Dean's soccer posters didn't move. Did he grow up in the

wizarding world?

Then there was Neville. The boy was the quietest out of the bunch, and

was quietly putting books away on the top of his chest of drawers. He

hadn't said much to the other boys. He kept glancing towards Harry, but

not in the 'oh my god, you're famous!' sort of way. It was kind

of...curious. It seemed that the boy seemed to be a little shy and

clumsy- he kept dropping things.

Currently, Harry was sprawled out on his bed, some of his records spread

out on the bed. He smiled as he picked up a record.

"You guys like muggle music?"

Dean whipped around. "I thought we couldn't bring muggle stuff into the

school." He said with wide eyes.

Harry laughed. "This is a wind-up record player- the electric ones

wouldn't work, but this one will." He motioned to the records on his bed

and in his open trunk. "And I have lots of records. Want to hear

anything while we unpack, guys?"

Dean made a beeline for the records, while the others approached, but

hung back. Harry slid off of his bed, watching Dean pick up some of the

records.

"Wow, you've got some...interesting tastes." Dean said, looking at him

strangely as he held up a David Bowie album.

Harry blushed, knowing what that look was for. "David Bowie is awesome."

He looked to the others. "You guys listen to muggle music?"

The three of them shook their heads.

Harry grinned, and set aside David Bowie, and picked up a Sex Pistols

Album. "Here." He set his record player on his bedside table, and put

the album on.

Ron and Neville instantly put their hands to their ears at the loud

music, and Seamus' grin widened.

"Wow!"

Harry lowered the music, and the other two boys listened with wide eyes.

Harry hummed along as he began to unpack the rest of his things. "I've

got lots more. Just ask if you want to listen. The only thing is is that

you've got to take care of them, alright? I don't want to see any of

these broken-" He hugged some to his chest protectively. "They're my

babies."

Ron and Neville exchanged an odd look at this, while Dean snickered.

"Mind if I ask my mum to send some records from home?"

Harry smiled. "Sure, if you want to."

"So...you were muggle-raised, right?" Ron asked, rummaging through his

trunk. He pulled out a battered chess set, stuffing it under his bed.

"Yeah."

"Is...is that what all muggles dress like?" Ron asked.

Dean laughed. "No." He stopped laughing at Harry's Look.

"Hey, I can dress how I like. I think I look cool." Harry said,

motioning to his band t-shirt and faded jeans.

x-x-x

Harry quickly learned his way around the castle by following some of the

older students around, and asking portraits for directions. He found he

quite liked charms- Flitwick was fun, and there were all sorts of

applications for charms that one could use out in the magical world. The

man seemed to let him experiment a little, allowing him free reign once

he completed his assignment- he seemed to encourage Harry's creativity.

Harry had also heard that Flitwick was the Choir director, and promptly

asked the man if he could join. Flitwick had seemed to expect this, and

told him to come to his classroom on Friday night for tryouts.

Transfiguration was fun too, although McGonagall was a bit stricter. She

wouldn't allow him to experiment with his work like Flitwick did, saying

that Transfiguration could be hazardous if not done correctly. He

understood. The woman subtly inquired about his homelife after class one

day, though Harry just sort of answered vaguely that everything was fine.

History of Magic was dead boring, and Harry tended to use that class

period to do homework. He had really hoped that the class would be

exciting. He kind of liked history, but it was much better reading it on

his own, rather than listening to Binns drone on.

Astronomy was fun, and Herbology was cool. Harry thought the plants were

much more interesting than the ones he had to tend to on Privet Drive.

It didn't hurt that Professor Sprout, the Professor, was really nice.

Harry loved to look up at the stars during his Astronomy classes, and he

loved the names of the constellations. Sinastra was really nice too,

though she didn't pay attention to him much. That was fine...he got

enough attention as it was.

Harry got the impression that Quirrel was a joke, and with his stutter,

Harry resigned himself to learning Defense from the textbook. He

basically ignored the man during class, doing his own thing. Hermione

clearly dissapproved of this (as well as when he did this during History

too), but Harry thought it was a waste of time, trying to figure out

what the guy was saying when he would understand things a lot better on

his own.

Potions was an absolute disaster- Harry knew for certain that Snape

didn't like him for some reason. Snape kept staring at him, studying him

in a way that made Harry wonder if the guy knew how he'd been treated at

the Dursleys. He didn't say anything, he just...watched. When he wasn't

watching, he was yelling at the class. Harry just learnt to stay out of

the man's way, do the work correctly, and not talk back, even if he

really wanted to. It was a skill that he'd learned very well, with Uncle

Vernon.

Malfoy was actually sitting next to him in this class, and it actually

helped a lot. The blonde had a lot of tutoring before coming to Hogwarts

in potions, and helped Harry with the basics. He was still a spoiled

prat, and Harry suspected he probably bullied some of the other students

when he wasn't around.

Still, after the stressful class, Harry wandered about the dungeons, and

managed to find the music room. Of course, it was in an out of the way

place and it looked as though it had been abandoned. While everything

was dust free, courtesy of the House Elves that rumored to live here in

the castle, it was clear that the piano was out of tune. That first friday,

which was full of free periods in the afternoon, was spent tuning the piano.

That evening, after dinner, Harry reported to Flitwick's classroom for

the Choir tryouts. Apparently the Choir had small performances at the

school, various Ministry functions, and they did caroling at St.

Mungo's. He was quite excited about this. He walked into the classroom,

and found that there were ten students there, and all of them were

girls. All of them. Oh boy.

They all kind of stared at him as he entered the room. Harry gave them

an uneasy smile, tugging on his ponytail a little. Flitwick came out of

his office, holding a huge stack of sheet music in his arms.

"Alright kids, let's go to the music room!" He said cheerfully. He

handed the sheet music off to one of the older girls, and they headed

towards the music room.

Harry laughed softly, and spoke to the Professor as they walked. "I just

came from there."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I'd been exploring the dungeons after Potions, and I found the

music room. I tuned the piano."

"Oh, good! We never really use that old thing...can't really carry a

piano around during a performances, can we?"

"Oh." Harry said, feeling a little dissapointed. And electric keyboards

wouldn't work, either. That really sucked, actually.

"But I'm sure it will help us during our practices." Flitwick assured

him. He ushered everyone into the music room, and the students sat down

in the chairs.

Flitwick stood in the front of the room, by the piano. "Thank you

everyone, for coming today. I know there isn't many of us here- some of

our older students have moved on to concentrate on their NEWTS, while

others graduated last year. Now, we've got a few who were interested in

trying out today- Harry Potter, Hannah Abbott, and Su Li. Now, who would

like to go first?"

Harry glanced towards the girls- Su Li was a pretty Japanese girl that

looked quite shy. Hannah Abbot was very pretty too, with curly blonde

hair and blue eyes. Honestly, unless they were terrible, Harry thought

Flitwick would let all three of them in. They obviously needed the

numbers. Hannah slowly inched her hand up, glancing towards him. He gave

her an encouraging smile.

"Alright, Miss Hannah, you are up first! Stand up here next to me, and

don't be shy."

Hannah tugged on her robes a little, standing up and going to Flitwick's

side. She began to sing- her voice was a bit higher, Harry thought she

really should have been singing at a lower octave. But she didn't sound

all too bad, actually.

Flitwick spoke up when she finished. "Lovely dear. Thank you, you may

sit down."

Hannah hurried to sit, blushing a little. A couple of the other girls

pat her on the back.

Harry glanced to Su Li, who was sitting next to him, looking down at her

knees. "Ladies first?" He asked softly. The girl glanced towards him

nervously.

"...You can go first." She whispered.

"Hey, there's no reason to be nervous. I'm sure you'll be great."

The girl bit her lip, and glanced towards Flitwick, who was smiling. Su

Li slowly stood, walking towards Flitwick. She turned slowly towards the

others, fidgeting. She glanced towards Harry- he gave her thumbs up. She

gave him a nervous smile, and she began to sing.

Definitely a soprano, and a damned good one, if she wasn't so quiet and

so focused on looking at the floor. Flitwick clapped a little. "That was

fantastic! Thank you Miss Li, you may sit down." Su quickly headed back

towards her seat, blushing and smiling as the others clapped for her a

little.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry grinned a bit, and headed towards Flitwick. He turned, watching

all the girls watching him. It kind of sucked that there were no boys

here. He sighed, closing his eyes. He'd chosen 'I Want To Hold Your

Hand' By the Beatles, but a slower, more soulful rendition of it.

He began to sing, his voice strong and carrying, and he opened his eyes

as he belted out- he could watch the girl's expressions...woah. They

were all looking starry-eyed, some of them were on the verge of tears,

clasping their hands tightly together.

He finished the song, and for a moment, there was a bit of silence.

Flitwick finally spoke. "Mr. Potter...thank you. Was that a muggle song?"

"Yes sir. By a band called The Beatles. I...know a lot of muggle music."

"And you play the piano, correct?"

Harry nodded at this.

"Would you mind playing something for us?"

Harry glanced to the girls, who were still staring at him. "Uh...sure."

He went to sit at the piano. It felt kind of awkward with the girls so

far away. "You know, you guys can come on over here." He motioned

around the piano. The girls quickly got up from their seats, moving to

stand around the piano, clearly eager to hear him play.

What should he play?

His lips twitched as he thought of a song.

"This is a muggle song titled- I Want To Break Free- by Freddie Mercury."

And he began to play, and sing. The girls were grinning now, bobbing

their heads along, giggling. Flitwick was watching them off to the side,

looking thoughtful. Harry sang his heart out, banging on the keys,

finally glad that he could play something and people would...get it.

"Play another!" A girl in a Slytherin tie said, grinning widely.

"Yeah, play another!" Hannah cried, hopping a little.

Flitwick cleared his throat, making the girls part.

"Well then, I suppose these auditions were a success. Miss Abbott, Miss

Li, Mr. Potter, you have been accepted into the Choir. We will have

practice once a week. Our next performance will be at the Annual

Ministry Gala on September 30th, and then after that will be the

Halloween Feast. We have quite a bit of work ahead of ourselves!"

x-x-x

Still, once a week wouldn't be enough for Harry...the music room would

soon become a retreat for Harry to go to when he was stressed out, or

just when he wanted to escape the mob that followed him around. The

girls in the choir were cool, though they took to giggling anytime he

was around. That was kind of annoying.

Harry's classmates gawked a lot at him at first, even whispering and

such too. It was kind of annoying. He also started to get annoyed with

the fact that his Housemates NEVER left him alone. For someone who was

so used to being alone so often in the muggle world, it was taking some

adjusting to get used to having all these people around. Hermione wasn't

too bad, as long as she was reading. When she wasn't reading, her mouth

was going a mile a minute, usually nagging at Harry, the only person who

would pay attention to her.

"You say I'm a Dreamer. But I'm not the only one." Harry murmured

quietly, and Hermione gave him an odd look. They were in the Music Room,

and Hermione was sitting at a table, her notes and books spread about

her, while Harry was at the piano, his sheet music covering the top of

it. Hermione was a bit exasperated because they were supposed to be

studying, and Harry kept writing in his ledger, humming to himself. She

had been ranting when he interrupted her quietly with that quote.

"Did you just quote John Lennon? Seriously, Harry, aren't you listening

to me?"

Harry fixed her with a look. "Hermione, your talents lie with research,

studying, and learning...stuff like this. My talents lie with music."

"But...you can do so much more, Harry." The girl said quietly. "You have

the power, you could be the Minister of Magic, you could be-"

"I want to be a musician. That's all." Harry said with finality. "Sure,

I don't mind helping people, but first and foremost my music comes

first. Don't push me into something I don't want to do. You won't like

the results."

The girl's eyes widened. "Are...are you threatening me?" She asked in a

small voice.

Harry's lips thinned. "No. But if you keep pushing, you're just going to

keep pushing until you push me away. Hermione, you're a great girl, and

you've got a great way with words. But you need to realize that not

everyone likes to study as much as you."

"But...if you don't study, how can you learn?" The girl asked, her voice

shaky. Was she about to cry? Harry felt a bit guilty at this. But he had

to make his point now before things got worse. After all, it wasn't even

halfway through their first term yet, months away from exams. He

couldn't imagine what things would be like around exam time, and she was

still this hyped up.

"Experience, and practice. Sure, reading is alright, but this much is

stressing me out. I'm no good to anyone if I'm stressed out, and I'm

more likely to fail the test because of the pressure. People learn

different ways, Hermione." Harry said with a small smile. "I just don't

learn the way you do."

"I just don't want to see you fall behind." Hermione mumbled, playing

with her quill. He had a point, though. Educators had done studies on

how people learned- some learnt through memorization, others visually,

others were more tactile.

"And I won't." Harry said simply. "Look." He motioned to the sheet music

around him. "Tell me about the Goblin War of 1542. And I will put it in

my own words."

"Uh...Uurg the Ugly broke a treaty, when he killed a wizard in Diagon

Alley one night. Then, he conspired with the Goblin Council to hide his actions, and-"

Harry cut in over her, and began to sing.

"Diagon was dangerous that night, that fateful night, that fateful

night, in 1542.

Uurg the Ugly, so ugly, so ugly, in body and mind,

killed a man, that night, that night, in 1542.

He was guilty, Uurg the Ugly, and tried to hide his ugly actions in 1542..."

He finshed off with a few key notes on the piano. He glanced at her

friend, and saw that she was gaping at him.

"See, when I take the exam, I will remember the song. And I'm betting

you will remember too."

"...wow, you just came up with that right on the spot."

Harry laughed, and played a few more notes on the piano. "It's not much,

but putting it to a beat, and repeating key things, it'll work. Let's

continue, shall we?"

x-x-x

And time went on. Dean and Seamus became the best of friends, and Harry

put up with their own burgeoning musical tastes, sharing the record

player with them. Dean usually went for hip-hop and rap, while Seamus

did like a good old rock and roll record. Neville was a bit shy, and

just listened to whatever happened to be playing at the time. Ron,

however, constantly switched the records and things, unable to decide on anything, so the boys tried to keep him from getting at the records.

Harry got to know his other housemates and classmates better. The girls

in his year were giggly and annoying, for the most part, except for

Hermione...Su Li and Hannah weren't too bad, though, either. They didn't

really talk outside of Choir, though.

Hermione had no problems showing off her intelligence, and some of their

classmates teased her. However, they learnt pretty quickly that Harry

didn't abide by bullying. He even threatened to stop talking to Malfoy

one day after he'd called her a Know-It-All Brown noser. Malfoy quickly

learnt that Harry could easily hold a grudge. The Twins were pretty

funny, and Harry always had a good time with them.

Flying lessons went quite well- Harry was a natural. While he quite

liked flying, he knew he wouldn't join the Quidditch team or anything.

He really wasn't into sports, and he wanted to focus on his music.

Still, Ron kept pestering about it, and Harry got the feeling he would

be awful next year when he could actually join the team.

Harry let Hermione borrow Hedwig in exchange for her parent's copy of

their newpaper, so they could keep up with muggle news. As far as Harry

could tell, the Daily Prophet didn't cut it with world news, and Harry

had taken to reading his Uncle's paper from a very young age. Hermione

actually liked the idea, and it provided her a means to talk to her

parents more often.

The Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and the other Slytherins treated Harry

alright, although they didn't really talk to him. The girls in the Choir

were friendly enough, but not outside of meetings. It kind of sucked,

since they were all pretty nice to him. Harry hoped that his fame didn't

keep people from approaching him. He really didn't want that happening.

As the end of September rolled around, Harry and the girls in the Choir

were preparing for their performance at the Ministry. They would only be

doing a couple of songs- the Hogwarts Anthem and their traditional

Halloween Song. They would be opening for Celestina Warbeck, and the

Wierd Sisters would be performing last. The WWN would be covering the

Gala, like they did every year.

Harry was kind of nervous- this would be the first time he'd be out in

wizarding public properly, and he wanted to make a good impression. All

of the students would be wearing their school uniforms and robes, which

honestly did nothing for them...but it was traditional.

Harry and the girls were fidgeting restlessly in the Ministry Ballroom,

behind the curtains. The Ballroom was filled with people, talking,

laughing. They had yet to get a really good look or anything, yet.

Celestina's Banshees were all gabbing away nearby, not even glancing

their way, while some guys were setting up and tuning the Weird Sister's

was fascinated and wide eyed, watching everyone backstage.

Flitwick, who was wearing a handsome set of deep purple robes, spoke to them

cheerfully. "Alright children, don't be nervous! Remember to sing clear

and loud." And he began to lead them up on the stage.

Harry was front and center- that hadn't been his choice, but the girls

had decided that. Whatever. It made him dreadfully nervous. He tried not

to glance at the crowds yet, hands getting a little sweaty. People began

to clap for them, and cheer. The WWN announcer, Glenda Chittock, spoke

into her microphone. Next to her, was the Minister of Magic.

"And now, the performance is beginning! As always, we have the Hogwarts

Choir opening the festivities, with Professor Filius Flitwick leading!

They look so adorable in their little uniforms, it really takes me back!"

"Too true, Glenda." The Minister spoke into his microphone. "Seeing

these youngsters really makes me proud- hmm, looks like a boy has joined

this year! It's been quite some time since we've seen a boy in the Choir."

"He's a real cutie too!"

Her exclamation was lost when the students began to sing- the Hogwarts

Athem first. Many people sang aloud with them, all of them knowing the

words, laughing and cheering along. Harry felt perfectly ridiuclous

singing it, but he was glad that so many people seemed to like the song.

One of the older girls given the solo for their traditional Halloween

song, but Harry could tell that people were already moving on- they

clearly wanted to hear the other performers. As they left the stage,

Harry accidentally bumped into a woman- she had a head full of dark

curls, and was wearing a voluptuous red gown. She frowned a little, and

then did a double take.

"No! You're Harry Potter!"

Harry flushed at this. He'd really hoped that this wouldn't happen

tonight. The rest of the Choir was glancing back at them curiously,

Flitwick was pushing his way through.

"I'm Celestina Warbeck, but I'm sure you already know that. You sing?"

"Uh, well-"

"Then I'm sure you know my songs- how would you like to sing with me?"

Harry's eyes went round at this. He looked to Flitwick, who gave him a

little grin, and a shooing motion.

"Well, I..."

"We'll sing one of my old favorites, 'You Charmed The Heart Right Out of

Me'. Do you know it?"

"Yes-"

"Good, let's get rid of this dreary old robe, take that ponytail down-"

Harry squeaked a bit as she yanked his robe off- he could hear the crowd

chanting Celestina's name. He was tured around roughly- Celestina tossed

Harry's robe towards Flitwick, who looked like he was about to laugh at

any moment. The other girls were giggling and whispering now, as they so

often did when Harry sang. He sighed. He really, really hoped he didn't

mess up. He wasn't a fan of Celestina's, but...maybe he could show

people what he could do?

The woman quickly worked on his hair, taking his ponytail down,

arranging it. "There we go!" She turned him back around, lips pursing a

little as she gave a good look to his face. "Can't do anything about the

glasses- you won't want to walk around stage blind-"

Harry spoke up. "Can I use the piano?" He blurted, knowing she would be

using it during her act.

"Oh, you play? Hmm, that could be fun. I'll stand by the piano while you

play. Alright dear, you ready?"

"I..." Harry glanced to Flitwick, who gave him a thumbs up. He glanced

to the girls, and they were grinning and cheering him on. He gave the

woman a mute nod. She took his hand, and the two strode out onto the

stage. People began to clap, looking a bit curiously at Harry.

Celestina took to the Microphone that had been set up, and spoke. "Thank

you everyone! I'm sure you're all wondering who this young man is, next

to me. He just performed with the Hogwarts Choir, and we bumped into each

other backstage. Imagine my surprise when I found out this young boy is

Harry Potter!"

There were gasps, and loud cheers- Harry was blushing now, trying his

best not to cover his face up. Cameras started flashing. Celestina

raised her hand. "Now, I just had to do a little duet with Harry here-

now, be kind, this is his very first performance! We're going to sing

'You Charmed The Heart Right Out of Me'." There was some more cheering

at this- it was clearly one of Celestina's best.

She led him over to the piano with a grin- a microphone had already been

set up there. He sat down, feeling a bit nervous, performing in front of

all these people. Celestina gave him an encouraging smile, covering her

microphone.

"Don't worry, you'll do great."

She motioned for him to get ready, and begin. He began to play the

opening keys of the song. She turned towards the crowd with a wide

smile, and began to sing. Harry concentrated on getting the chords

right. He'd only played this song a few times before...he thought her

stuff was too mushy, honestly. He leant in, beginning to chime in with

the lyrics.

Celestina turned towards him with a grin, continuing to sing into her

microphone, giving him a small measured nod- Harry leant into his

microphone a bit more, becoming a bit more relaxed. They ended strongly

together, grinning a bit. The crowds clapped and clapped.

Celestina held out her hand to Harry, and they took a bow together. The

woman gave him a wink. "Maybe we can do this again, sometime."

Harry grinned a bit, and Celestina spoke to the crowd. "Alright

everyone, Harry's got to get back to his classmates, but let's give him

a hand!"

There was some more applause at this. Harry gave a little wave, and

ducked off the stage, feeling kind of exhilarated and wobbly. Wow.

As he was getting pats on the back, he heard Glenda Chittock speak over

the WWN. "Wow, that was just an AMAZING performance by Celestina Warbeck

and Harry Potter! That kid sure can sing!"

"And he wasn't too bad on the piano, either. Thank you, Miss Warbeck,

Mr. Potter, for giving us such a wonderful performance!" The Minister

said, sounding enthused.

x-x-x

Harry was looking forward to having a good Halloween, for once. Usually,

Halloween had always been a pretty crappy day for him. Hopefully, with

the huge feast that was rumored to be going on, it would turn out pretty

alright. However, Ron had to just open his big mouth and make Hermione

upset. She and Harry spent the afternoon in the girl's loo. Harry was

trying to convince her to leave the loo, so that they could go on to the

Feast. He was even skipping the performance- he really, really hoped

that she appreciated this.

Hermione finally crept out of her stall, sniffling. Harry stood quickly,

having been sitting on the floor for ages, consoling her. Hermione

pulled him into a hug, and Harry stiffened slightly at first. This was

his first ever hug, and he quickly decided that he quite liked it.

"Hermione, you're the Mary Austin to my Freddie Mercury." Harry

breathed, grinning widely as he he pulled away from Hermione.

The girl had the oddest look on her face- she was blushing. Harry

glanced at her, and coughed. "Not that we would ever get married or

anything, but I'm trying to say...you're my best friend."

Hermione smiled tearfully, and hugged him tightly once more.

"Even if I nag a bit?"

"Especially when you nag." Harry teased. Their eyes met, and Hermione looked as though

she was about to say something when her face twisted.

"Do...you smell something?"

Harry made a face. "Ugh...yeah..." They covered their noses. "What is

that smell?"

They turned towards the door as they heard loud thuds...coming closer.

"Uh...Hermione?" Harry asked, his voice shaky.

Hermione's eyes widened as they heard some grunts, and something crash

right outside the door. The two first years clutched at each other in

fright."What was that?" She whispered, terrified.

Harry was scrambling for his wand, as was Hermione. At that moment, the

loo door smashed open, crashing to the floor in pieces. An ugly, tall,

huge...creature stood there, a huge club in it's hand.

"A troll!" Hermione screeched.

"Hermione, move!" Harry yelled, pulling her when she didn't move as he

yelled. They just managed to get out of the way as the club crashed into

the stalls, making the water pipes burst.

"What do we do?" The girl asked, ducking for cover underneath the sinks.

"Keep moving. If we stay in place, we make an easier target." Harry said

quickly, dragging her behind him by the hand. Another big crash, and the

sink they were hiding under was gone. Hermione rapidly paled, and they

raised their wands, moving quickly. They tried casting spells next, not

that they knew a whole lot, but the spells seemed to bounce right off of

the troll's skin.

"Let's go for the eyes, seems like their skin is impervious to spells."

Harry said quickly. "Let's do it on three...one...two...three..." At

three, they cast a stinging hex at the creature's eyes, making him drop

his club. Harry shoved Hermione out of the way, behind him, and with a

flick of his wrist, the club was kept from hitting himself, and hit the

troll hard right on the head. The troll finally fell to the ground,

unconscious.

Mere moments later, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape came crashing

through the doors, looking panicked.

"Mr. Potter! Miss Granger!"

"Is it dead?" Hermione asked quietly, peeking around Harry.

Harry looked at it quietly. "No. Just unconsious. Still breathing, see?"

Quirrel came into the room then, looking rather shocked. "W-what

h-happened h-here?"

Hermione spoke up quietly, leaning into Harry, who wrapped his arm

around her shoulders. "I...I hadn't been feeling very well this

afternoon. Harry was here, trying to convince me to go the Feast when

the troll just appeared out of...nowhere..."

x-x-x

After the Troll Incident, naturally everyone seemed to know about it,

even though Harry and Hermione hadn't told anyone. Rumors ran rampant

about the spells they used and such to take the creature down, but they

insisted it was just a well placed stinging hex and a levitation charm.

Of course, Hermione was quick to tell Harry that wandless magic was a

very rare power, and that only the most powerful wizards could

accomplish it.

So Harry told her all that he'd done growing up, and she naturally

insisted that he try to teach her how to do it too. After all, you

didn't want to be stuck in a situation without your wand. After looking

up the rules, they found out that there were no regulations about

wandless magic, as it couldn't be tracked- so neither of them would get

in trouble for casting magic outside of school.

Excited at this, Hermione put a great deal of effort in trying to learn

magic wandlessly. However, Harry barely had to try to get the same

results as she did. Hermione resigned herself to not being as naturally

powerful as Harry, but she knew that she would just have to play at her

own strengths.

The end of November approached, and so did winter. Snow blanketed

the grounds, and it was quite beautiful.

However, on the morning of the 24th, Harry was very, very unhappy.

Harry stared at the newspaper, his eyes feeling scratchy and watery.

Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Harry.."

Harry handed the paper back to her, burying his face in his hands. It

was the muggle newspaper that her parents had sent.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Dean asked, and Ron looked over, stuffing his face

full of sausages.

"Freddie Mercury is dead." Harry said flatly.

"Who's Freddie Mercury?" Ron asked, his mouth still full of food.

Harry made a disgusted sound. "Freddie Mercury was the most amazing,

talented, gorgeous-"

"Gorgeous?" Seamus whispered to Dean with a strange expression.

"- lead singer of a muggle band called Queen. I know you've heard the records in

the dorm. He was an amazing performer, and had a top-notch voice.

He...he's...he was a legend. I can't believe he's dead." Harry cried. He

didn't care that he was in the Great Hall where everyone could see him.

Hermione was very still and quiet, knowing how much Harry looked up to

the singer. Then she spoke softly, trying to soothe him.

"But Harry...everyone knew it was going to happen, Freddie Mercury was

ill, he had AIDS, he's been ill for a long time-"

"What's AIDS?" Ron asked.

Dean answered this time, looking grim. "It's this sickness that a lot of

people are getting over in the muggle world."

Hermione nodded quickly, rubbing Harry on the back to calm him down.

"Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. It starts out as a virus called

HIV, and-"

"Whatever." Ron muttered, returning to his food. "I haven't heard of it,

so wizards must be immune."

Harry's breath hitched at this, and he stood up, furious. A good number

of students, even at the other tables, looked over. Even some of the

staff glanced their way. "Whatever? Whatever? Really Ron? A man just

died and all you can say is /whatever/? God, I thought you were dense,

but now you're just being mean!" He screamed. "A great man died today,

and all you can say 'well, he's a muggle, it doesn't really matter!

They're only hundreds of thousands of people infected with this disease,

but it doesn't matter!' "

The entire Great Hall went silent during this tirade, and people were

staring. Normally Harry was very laid back and easy going, and they had

never seen him upset before. Ron was staring at him with wide eyes.

Harry's wild hair was fluttering in an unseen wind, and his normally

bright eyes were dark with rage.

"I...I'm sorry mate, but..."

"Don't 'mate' me! I'm not your mate! I never will be! You treat Hermione

terribly, you have horrible table manners, you're rude, and a bigot-"

"Wait, what? No I'm not-"

Harry grabbed his things, and stomped out of the Great Hall, fuming. His

hands were shaking, he was so mad. Forget about class today, he was

going to spend all day in the music room, playing his heart out on the

Piano.

x-x-x

Hermione crept into the music room, watching her best friend pound at

the keys. After his little 'drama queen' episode that had everybody talking,

people were suddenly realizing that Harry was...different. Hermione had

already known this, but she worried for her friend.

She sat in the corner, watching him play. He was an amazing

musician. Sometimes she wondered what sort of wizard he would be like if

he put that much effort into learning magic. As it was, he did pretty

well, and he didn't even have to try all that hard.

Hermione had been jealous at first, but then quickly realised that Harry

would be jealous of her for a lot of things- having a good home,

supportive parents, no...she felt very lucky in that regard. It was

rather funny, in a way. Her best friend wanted to be a rock star, wanted

to be a musical legend, however he was already famous.

She could tell, though, that he did not welcome the fame. He hated the

stares and the whispers, and it made Hermione wonder why. After all, he

wanted to be famous, right? So why would he hate it? It made her think

of the saying 'Be Careful What You Wish For'. He had his fame yes, but

at the price of losing his parents.

And people expected things of him, herself included. Things that didn't

include musical goals, things that sounded more like being an Auror, or

the Minister of Magic... Hermione knew that her best friend could truly

make a difference, if he set his heart on it. So why throw himself into

his music, rather than any of these other goals? She couldn't really

understand why.

She watched Harry cry, tears falling down his face, shoulders tense as

he banged on the keyboard. She winced at the loudness, and at the way he

was treating the instrument. He suddenly stopped, and began to write

with one hand, head hanging low. He was writing again, quill moving

furiously across the parchment. She had never been allowed to see what

he wrote.

Hermione wanted Harry to stop hiding in this room, and go out

and...well, do something else, but she couldn't bring herself to tell

him again. She didn't want to lose her friend. And... maybe this was

what he was meant to do. Rather than be the Minister of Magic, or an

Auror, or even a Healer, maybe he was meant to make music. She didn't know.

But the least she could do was support him in whatever he wanted to do.

He was her best friend, after all.

X-x-x

"Mr. Potter."

Harry sighed, turning, seeing McGonagall coming towards him. They were

not far away from her office. "Hey Professor...I'm really sorry

about...skipping class yesterday."

McGonagall sighed. "We need to have a talk, Mr. Potter. Follow me."

And so Harry did, feeling a little listless. He was exhausted, and he'd

already been reprimanded once about skipping class from Snape. As they

entered her office, McGonagall spoke. "I spoke with Miss Granger

yesterday. She told me what happened- while I do not know this

performer, he obviously meant something to you. Please, sit."

Harry sat down, setting his bookbag down at his feet. His Head of House

continued to speak. "Miss Granger assured me that she would give you all

of your make-up work. I won't have that happening again, will I?"

"No ma'am." Harry said quietly, keeping his gaze lowered.

"Thank you. Now, I want to speak to you about your plans for Yule. You

are staying here at the school, correct?"

Harry nodded a this. He'd added his name to the list of those staying

behind in Gryffindor- there was very few.

"...Mr. Potter...Harry...I wish to help you. I know that your relatives

couldn't have been very kind to you. I knew Petunia Dursley when she was

younger...she was very jealous of her sister's abilities. I

am...concerned that they may have not treated you well."

Harry stared at the Professor, eyes wide. He looked away, not saying one

thing or another.

McGonagall offered a tin of biscuits, but Harry shook his head. She set

the tin down, leaning forward on her desk. "...Mr. Potter?"

"...The last time I tried to talk to a teacher about the Dursleys, she

was fired. The principal at my school was an old friend of my Uncle's."

"...I see."

"...Look, it doesn't matter, okay? I'm going to be here at the school

for most of the year, and with my wand, I can use the Knight Bus to get

away if I have to."

"You still shouldn't be living like that. Your Guardians were supposed

to take care of you." McGonagall said quietly.

"I haven't any other choice, do I?" Harry asked, looking her in the eye.

"You and I both know that anyone who offers to adopt me will want to adopt

me because of my fame or my money or whatever. I'd rather just stick it

out on my own. That's what I've been doing for ages now, and that's not

going to change."

McGonagall stared at him. "Harry...there are people who truly do care

for you, you know. I know myself and Flitwick have taken quite a liking

to you, and so has-"

"Look, I'm...I don't need anyone to look after me. I'm alright, okay?"

Harry stood, feeling a little restless. "Can I go now?"

"...Of course." McGonagall said, looking a little sad.

X-x-x

Gryffindor tower was quiet for the Yule holidays, even with the Weasley

boys underfoot. Harry spent a lot of time in the Great Hall whenever he

wasn't in the music room. (He was in the music room quite a bit). Harry

was often spotted at the table in the Great Hall, his face buried in

sheet music, notes, tapping his pencil against the table, bobbing his

head to unknown beat.

It actually got kind of annoying, for some people. Watching Harry do

this during dinner one night finally made Ron blow up. "Merlin Harry,

will you just stop it?"

Harry froze, looking up from his work. "Stop what?"

"I think he is referring to that incessant noise you're making." Percy

said smartly. "Whatever are you working on, anyways?"

"Music." Harry said, shuffling his sheet music together, arranging the

pages. "Sorry. I'll just...go. Hey-"

Ron snatched one of the pages, frowning a little. "What the hell is

this?" He pulled the page away from Harry, and began to sing in a high

pitched voice, clearly mocking Harry.

"/The radiant moon, Approaching guiding light, Our shallow

years in fright, Dreams are made winding through my head, Through my

head, Before you know, Awake, The spiders all in tune, The evening of

the moon, Dreams are made winding through my head, They will come for me

soon, Hey spiders, give me room, we'll sing together, you with your silky

traps, me with my whispered tune, here we are together, locked in this

tiny room-/" He shook his head, scrunching up his nose. "What kind of

song is this?"

Harry glared at Ron, trying to snatch the paper back- it ripped. Harry

made a sort of choking noise, and drew his wand.

"BOYS! That is quite enough!" McGonagall said from her end of the table,

standing up. The staff had been talking quietly about something until

Ron's horrible singing had caught their attention.

Harry grabbed the rest of his papers, and ran out of the Great Hall,

crying. That song had been really, really personal. He'd come up with it

when he'd been locked up over the summer, though he hadn't been able to

put music to it until recently. He tripped on something unseen, and he

began to sob as his papers scattered across the corridor floor.

He heard footsteps come from behind- he wiped his tears hastily, trying

to grab his papers.

"Potter."

Harry looked back at the Professor who was standing there so silently.

He wiped a tear away, looking away. "Professor Snape."

"Here. The sheet music was repaired easily with a spell. Good as new."

He held out the paper to Harry.

"...Thanks." Harry took it, adding it to the others.

"It was quite good. What is it about?"

"...Nothing." Harry whispered, picking up the last of the papers.

"You were going to head to the music room, am I right?"

Harry nodded cautiously.

"I'll escort you there."

Harry didn't say anything, following the Professor down the stairs,

wondering why Snape was doing this. Snape hated him, right? He was so cold and distant.

The man led the way towards the piano. "It's been some time since I've

played, but...I think I can still manage." He said quietly, sitting at

the bench.

Harry stared, setting his papers down as he watched the Professor play

an excerpt Rachmaninoff's Concerto No 2, slowly getting into it. He only

played for a few minutes, but Harry found himself calming down a little.

Classical always did that for him.

"When did you learn how to play?"

"When I was quite young, from a friend. They had a piano in their home,

she taught me how to play. She was quite good. I only know a few songs,

though." He slid off of the bench, motioning for Harry to sit.

Harry sat down, looking at the keys, sighing.

"...What is that song about?"

Harry reached up...pressing down on one of the keys gently. A D.

"When I was at the Dursley's." He said quietly.

"May I hear it?"

Harry bit his lip, nodding slowly. He flicked his wrist, wandlessly

summoning the page to him. Snape's eyes widened a little at this, though

Harry did not notice, or care. Harry put the page up before him, and sighed.

"Alright..." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He would

just...pretend Snape wasn't there.

/"The radiant moon, /

/Unseen guiding light, /

/Our shallow years in fright, /

/Dreams are made/

/winding through my head, /

/Even when wake, /

/All I see are the spiders all in tune, /

/The evening of the moon, /

/Dreams are winding through my head, /

/They will come for me soon, /

/Hey spiders- give me room, /

/We'll sing together, /

/You with your silky traps, /

/Me with my whispered tune, /

/Here we are together, /

/locked in this tiny room,/

/They will come for me soon,/

/Am I safer here?/

/Or there?/

/The dark and quiet is peaceful and still,/

/But it won't last longer til,/

/You weave your webs around me,/

/Wrapping me softly in a cocoon,/

/Shrouding me from them, /

/Preparing me for you,/

/And here I lie, singing my whispered tune."/

Harry let out a soft sigh, finishing his song. "So...that's it. I..." He

glanced cautiously towards the Professor. "I've never sung an original

song for anyone before."

"It's quite good."

Harry stared at him. It was the first time that the Professor had said

anything good about anything he'd done. "Really?"

"Yes. A bit dark, but I suppose that you what you intended. Mr. Weasley,

I think, would not understand how that could be appealing."

"/Mr. Weasley/ is an idiot." Harry muttered. Ron was really grinding on

his nerves. He knew what the boy called him behind his back, to the

other students. He told himself he didn't care, but it still hurt.

"What is the song about?" The Professor asked once again, pulling up a

chair next to the piano.

Harry stared at the Professor, wondering if he could tell the man the

truth. "...Like I said before, it was about the Dursleys."

"...Are they the spiders?"

"No." Harry looked away. "The Dursleys...could never be so elegant." He

whispered. His fingers reached for the piano keys again, lightly sliding

over them. "I...would watch the spiders for hours. I loved the patterns

that they made with their webs."

"You weren't scared of them?"

"No. They never bothered me. I never bothered them." Harry smiled a

little. "They were almost like friends."

"You have friends here now, like Miss Granger."

"Yeah." Harry paused. "...The boys tease me. Because I...hang out with

her and some of the girls in the Choir so much. Because I'm...Different.

I know it's going to get worse when I get older." He bit his lip.

"Sometimes I feel like I came from one trap into another."

"Oh?"

"...People...expect things of me. Even Hermione. I know she...tries her

best to support me...but she thinks me making music is a waste of time.

That I could be, I don't know...Minister of Magic or something."

"Then what /do/ you want to be?"

Harry grinned a bit, glancing towards Snape. "A musician...but not just

a performer, you know? I...want to create a Message, something that

people can identify with. Songs are memorable- long after the makers are

long gone, their songs still live on." Harry ran his fingers over the

keys again, looking down. "I feel so...strange, sometimes. I don't quite

fit in, do I?"

"No. You don't."

Harry's lips quirked again. At least the Professor didn't try to make

him feel better by lying or anything.

The Professor stood. "It is quite late. You should really get back to

the dorms."

x-x-x

For Yule, Harry got quite the haul. Hermione had given him a history

book on 20th Century Musicians and Songwriters, as well as some new sheet

music. Dean had gotten him some records from London. Ron and his

brothers had given him sweets, while their Mum had given him a sweater

and some homemade fudge.

Su Li had given him some copies of sheet music from her family's

collection- It was all translated from Japanese. That was kind of cool.

Hannah had given him some sweets, and Flitwick had given him a book on

Experimental charms- the Professor had been very supportive of Harry's

creative use in his charmwork. Hagrid had given him a wooden flute

(which he had no idea how to play, but he would certainly try).

McGonagall had given him a gorgeous looking brooch- she was well aware

of his...ah, unique style from seeing his transfiguration work in her class.

His two favorite gifts were from Dumbledore and Snape, respectively.

Dumbledore had given him an invisibility cloak, and wrapped inside the

cloak had been an Opera record (apparently the Headmaster liked Opera,

according to his Chocolate Frog Card). The cloak had been his Father's,

and Harry couldn't wait to use it. He was quite excited about that.

Snape had given him an old muggle photo. In the photo,

there were two children sitting at a piano, their backs to the camera.

They were sitting on the piano bench together. One had black hair

falling to his shoulders, and he wore patched black clothes. Next to

him, was a little red-haired girl, her waves and curls reaching midway

down her back. She was wearing a jumper and a skirt. They were clearly

in a muggle home.

On the back was written, in very pretty handwriting- /Severus and Lily,

March 8/th/1968/

Harry kept the photo under his pillow. Professor Snape and his Mum had

somehow been friends. He really couldn't see it, but he guessed that the

picture proved it. He wished it was a magical photo, so the kids could

turn around...but still...he knew he would treasure it always.

X-x-x

It was quite late, and Harry had gone for one of his jaunts about the

castle under his new invisibility cloak. While he'd always been good at

sneaking around, the cloak was so cool! He'd found his way into a

classroom, and spotted a huge mirror with elaborate decoration about the

edges.

As he looked into the mirror, his eyes widened. He glanced around, and

saw that he was, in fact, alone. He touched the mirror hesitantly. His

parents were standing at his side, smiling at him. Hermione was hugging

his arm, waving with a grin. Hagrid was in the background, Flitwick near

the front, McGonagall was there too, smiling proudly at him. Snape was

standing next to his Mother, his hand on her shoulder, looking quite

content indeed, though he wasn't quite smiling.

And...he began to change. His reflection morphed into

something...different. His shoulder length hair grew longer, tamer,

silky- he got a bit taller, older. His uniform transformed into a pretty

white blouse and grey trousers- he was wearing a great pair of shoes,

and a silky grey vest that had white embroidered flowers on the front.

Instead of being completely...male, looking though, he looked

more...ambiguous, androgenous, even a little femenine. He had fingernail

polish, a bit of makeup on, even his ears were pierced. He had lots of bauble

rings on his fingers, and he looked kind of...exotic and beautiful. And he...really

liked how that looked. Mirror-Harry carried printed sheet music in the

crook of his arm. His sheet music had been published.

He looked to the others, who were all smiling, happy, accepting, proud-

they were happy and accepting of what he'd done, of who he was.

Harry sat down on the floor, getting lost in the image. What was this

mirror? Was this the future? No...his parents were there. He looked up

at the top of the mirror, and saw the words printed there. Harry, who'd

always had a flair for words, was able to figure it out rather quickly.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." He whispered aloud. He

looked back down to the mirror before him, looking at the small knowing

smile that his mirror-self wore, and how happy everyone else looked. He

wanted his friends and family to be happy for him, proud of him.

Harry opened his bookbag, grabbing some parchment and pen, and sprawled

out on the floor as he began to write. From the corner of the room, the

Headmaster watched on, invisible.

x-x-x

Harry was flipping through a Witch Weekly magazine when the boys stomped

in, grumbling about Malfoy. They all looked completely soaked, and Harry

fought to keep from laughing aloud.

"What happened to all of you?"

Seamus groaned, taking off his shirt over his head. "Ugh, Malfoy!"

"He's such a prat!" Dean added.

Ron shuffled towards the loo, but not before he caught sight of what

Harry was doing. "...Potter...are you reading Witch Weekly?"

"So?" Harry asked, flipping another page. "There's some pretty neat

stuff in here. Recipes, some charms and spells...and I saw a really cute

pair of shoes that I might order."

Dean and Seamus exchanged a grin, beginning to laugh a little. Ron just

stared at Harry. "You...are really weird."

"So are you." Harry said, propping himself up on his elbow.

Ron then spotted his nails. Harry had been working on them that

afternoon. He'd used a polishing charm, but instead of doing the 'lucious

ruby red' the magazine had recommended, he'd gone for jet black. "...Did

you paint your nails?"

"...Uh yeah. Guys in the muggle world paint their nails. It's no big deal."

Both Seamus and Ron looked to Dean for confirmation, who was shaking his

head. "Not all of them, mate."

Harry stuck his tongue out at the boy, looking back down at his magazine.

"Where is Longbottom? I thought he was right behind us." Ron asked,

heading into the loo.

"He'd probably got caught up with Granger. She was pacing around

something fierce in the common room."

Harry gasped, sitting upright. "Damn! I forgot! I promised I would meet

up with her to work on our Charms essay!"

He slid off the bed, searching for his socks and shoes. Seamus went on

into the loo. Dean watched Harry search for his socks and shoes.

"You looking for those pink socks you were wearing earlier?" Dean asked,

leaning against the bedpost, watching him silently.

"Yeah. Where are they?"

"Ron made them into sock puppets earlier. I think they're on his bed."

Harry rolled his eyes at this, going to Ron's bed and finding his socks

there. "Why would Ron make sock puppets out my socks? You know what, I

don't think I want to know." Harry said, tugging the socks on.

"Harry, are you gay?" Dean blurted.

Harry froze for a moment, and then slipped into his black shoes. "I

don't know, really. I know that I find some girls pretty, but I know

some boys aren't that bad looking either. So I guess that would make me

Bi? Or maybe I just can't decide."

Dean glanced towards the loo door. A moment later, he was stepping

forward, pecking Harry on the cheek quickly. Harry could barely feel it,

but it was still there. Harry's eyes went wide at this, and the two took

a step back from one another quickly.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry whispered, feeling a little flushed.

"...Dunno. Just wanted to see if it was different from a girl, is all."

"Is it?"

"...Not really. But you /are/ kind of girly." Dean gave him a small

smile, and sniffed pointedly. "You even smell like one, a little."

Harry blushed at this. He /may/ have been testing out perfume charms

from the magazine. "...I should go meet Hermione. We...aren't going to

be weird, are we?"

"No. See you 'round, mate." Dean gave him a little wave, and headed into

the loo.

Harry stared at the boy, biting his lip. That was...unexpected. He

grabbed his bookbag, and headed down the stairs to the common room. He

made a beeline for Hermione, grabbing her hand. He tugged her towards

the portrait door.

"Harry?"

He just shook his head, pulling her towards the nearest empty classroom.

"Hermione, do you think I'm gay?" He asked quietly, dropping his bookbag

heavily at his feet.

Hermione's eyes widened a little at this. "If those boys said something

to you-"

"Hermione...please. Do you think I'm gay?"

Hermione fidgeted a little, glancing away. "...You..sometimes act a

little...femenine." She said reluctantly. "Not that I think there is

anything wrong with that." She added quickly.

"I know I do. I just...Dean...he...kissed my cheek." Harry whispered,

eyes wide. "He...he said he just wanted to see if it was different

from...a girl."

"Yeah...Parvati told Lavender last week that Dean had kissed her on the

cheek." Hermione said, looking thoughtful.

"Oh. Good. So...he doesn't like me then." Harry sighed.

"...You don't like him?"

Harry looked away, shrugging a bit. "Dunno. I mean...I do find some boys

attractive, but...um..they tend to be...older." He blushed. "But I think

some girls are pretty too, I'm just not...attracted to them... as much."

Hermione raised a brow at this, crossing her arms over her chest. Harry

glanced her way, and before she could stop him, he kissed her cheek

quickly. She froze a little, eyes widening.

Harry pulled away, fidgeting. "...I think you are very pretty, Hermione.

Although you aren't...my type, I still see that."

Hermione sighed, smiling a little. "You know, you're pretty cute

yourself. No wonder all the girls are whispering about you." She ruffled

his hair with a grin. "Come on, let's work on that essay."

She glanced down at his hands. "Nice nails, by the way."

"Really?"

"No. I bet Snape's going to tell you to take the nail polish off tomorrow."

"I bet he won't. He'll be too busy yelling at Ron to notice." They both

giggled a bit at this.

x-x-x

/"I show not your face but your heart's desire,/

/The images I see are truly inspired,/

/this mirror shows men powers of old,/

/or being welcomed into the fold,/

/my heart seeks love and acceptance,/

/what I see makes me want to dance,/

/my family and friends- all around me,/

/And me- just being me-/

/A heart's desire can be strong,/

/It makes one wonder, /

/It makes them long,/

/It makes some wish for the days that were,/

/I show not your face, but your heart's desire,/

/What would you find, /

/should you so inquire?"/

Harry looked up from his music, and looked to Flitwick. "Well? What do

you think?"

The Professor smiled. "I think that was a lovely song." He looked

thoughtful. "Perhaps you can take it down an octave, and a bit slower?

Something a bit more dramatic?"

Harry blinked, nodding slowly as he looked back at the pages before him.

"Yeah, I can do that. Hmm..." He stood up from his bench, making a few

notations on the page with his pencil. "Alright...let's try it out again."

He tried the song the second time, doing as Flitwick said. He'd been

right- much better. The girls, who'd been reading sheet music, all

glanced up, watching him play.

Su Li spoke up shyly. "Do you think we could do a harmony?"

"I don't see why not, Miss Li. Hmm, Miss Li, Miss Abbot, let's have the

three of you first years do this together!"

Both girls grinned excitedly, looking to Harry for confirmation. Harry

gave a shrug of his shoulder. "Sure, why not?" The two girls approached

the piano, and Harry flicked his wand at his sheet music, copying it

easily. The others blinked at his use of magic, but didn't dare say that

was a fifth-year spell.

"Alright, Su, I want you to take Soprano, Hannah, I think you should go

Alto- I'll do Tenor."

Hannah giggled a little. "It's too bad your voice hasn't changed yet,

Harry, I think we really need a Baritone in the Choir." The other girls

heard this, and began to giggle.

"Haha, very funny." Harry stuck out his tongue in a very mature fashion.

"Alright, I'll start fromt the top, you two follow along."

x-x-x

Valentine's Day. It was either a good day, or a bad day, depending on

who you asked. The girls got very giggling and annoying, and the guys

grew nervous. Others, irritated. Harry, Su, and Hannah were working hard on a little show

they were going to do, to raise a bit of money. They were going to give

the money to St. Mungo's. It was just a little show full of love songs.

They'd advertised with posters, saying they'd do both muggle and magical

music, and they'd take requests.

It was in the evening, and the cold courtyard was decked out with

twinkling lights, and cuddling couples stood close together, waiting for

the little show to begin.

A small curtain had been raised, and off to the side was a large jar

that would be for the donations. Hermione and a number of other eager

girls were all sitting in front, giggling and whispering. Hermione had

come along to support Harry, not to giggle at him like the other girls.

Some of their other housemates were there too, but they were standing

around amongst the couples.

Hannah came out from behind the curtain, holding the Choir's only

microphone. It was on a stand, the metal covered with amplifying runes.

She was wearing a hot pink dress underneath her black coat, and her hair

was all curled. More than one boy whistled at her, and she blushed prettily.

"Hello, and welcome to our little Valentine's day show! As advertised,

any donations you make tonight will be given to St. Mungo's. Thank you!"

There were a bit more cheers and whistles.

Su came out from the curtain now- she was wearing a very pretty light

pink dress, and her long black hair was put up. She wore a grey

fur-lined coat, black stockings, and black boots. She blushed at all the

whistles as everyone saw her. Then, Harry came out- he was wearing a

long black fitted coat with black trousers and boots, and a dusky pink

empire waistline shirt- it lace about the hem and high neckline, and the

hem fell halfway down his thighs. His nails were painted black, and he'd

borrowed a few of Lavender's bits and bobs of fake jewelry.

The girls started to giggle and clap, while others began to whisper-

some of the staff who'd gathered in the back were trying not to smile.

They started with a Celestina Warbeck song, with Su leading, and Harry

and Hannah on either side of her, dancing and moving like an old Motown

trio. There was some scattered laughter at this, but people began to

clap along. After that was The Beatles' /All You Need is Love/. They

then sang a Wierd Sister's song, and then they broke into /Heatwave/ by

Martha and the Vendellas. Harry then led a rousing version of /My Girl/

by the Temptations, to which many fangirls squealed and giggled happily.

The money kept coming in as they continued to sing, doing another Weird

Sister's song, then /Be My Baby/ by the Ronettes, and then a cute campy

version of /My Guy/, by Mary Wells. Harry was a bit nervous about

singing it with the girls, but they had practically begged him when they

saw the lyrics. So he sang with the girls, Hannah leading. Some of their

audience seemed to enjoy the song, clapping along, while...others did

not. They decided to do one more song- /My Funny Valentine, /a'la Frank

Sinatra, with Harry leading. People clapped loudly as he finished his

very solemn rendition- he even saw a few girls crying (Sprout was one of

them, and he swore he saw McGonagall get a hankerchief out). He did see

Snape at one point, watching from one of the archways, halfway hidden,

staring right at him.

Harry looked back to the crowd, smiling, though he did not feel it. He

could see the way that some of the boys were staring at him. "Thank you

all for coming out here tonight- I know it's a bit cold, but I hope our

music warmed up your hearts! Have a happy Valentine's Day, everyone!"

"HEY POTTER, will you be /MY /VALENTINE?" A boy asked loudly from the

back, making his friends laugh- others began to laugh too, and Harry

flushed, feeling a little embarrassed.

Hannah, however, saved the day. "I think there would be quite a few

girls put out, if he was /your/ Valentine, Pucey!" She called out into

the microphone with a bright smile. There was louder laughter this time,

and Harry gave her a grateful smile.

X-x-x

The teasing had only increased after his performance with the girls. It

became a regular thing for him to get shoved about in the halls. A few

older students tried to look out for him, out of pity, but that only

made things worse. Hermione stuck by his side though, and always helped

him pick back up again. He was...grateful for her friendship.

Hannah and Su, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten a bit more

popular. He supposed it was because they were pretty girls, and it

wasn't all that odd to see girls dressed up and singing romantic songs.

Still, Harry had enjoyed performing, and he wouldn't regret it for

anything in the world. They'd raised only a small amount of money for

St. Mungo's, but it certainly had been appreciated.

Spring began, and the weather grew warmer, and the snow began to melt,

and the trees began to come out. Harry had always enjoyed spring, just

before it got to be too warm, when there was still a nip in the air. He

loved the flowers that came out- all the crocuses and early bloomers.

He learned that Neville did too- more than once, they bumped into each

other out by the greenhouses, gathering flowers. Neville sometimes gave

him shy smiles that made Harry feel a little melty, and then Neville

would do something silly and slip in the mud...usually making a mess out

of the both of them. Still, he was quite sweet. He'd never teased Harry

like the other boys did, sometimes. Then again, the other boys teased

Neville quite a bit for being so absent-minded and clumsy.

March turned into April, and already Hermione was preparing for their

final exams. His music room became his solace- he had to lock her out a

few times so he could just sit and think and not freak out. He pretended

to not notice all the times that Snape slipped into the back of the

room, watching him play. The man had never brought up the photo he'd

given Harry, nor had Harry.

They just...didn't know what to say to each other. And so, Harry played

for him, and the Professor listened. Sometimes Harry sang his original

work, sometimes he would sing some muggle songs. Sometimes the Professor

wouldn't show up, but he'd leave things on the piano, and Harry knew

that he'd been there. Sometimes it was another photo. Sometimes it would

be a small trinket- cheap baubles that clearly had sentimental value.

Which each new thing, Harry learned a little about his Mother, and her

friendship with his mysterious Professor.

He wasn't quite sure how he felt about the man. During class, he was

strict and demanding, and Harry was actually thankful that the man

didn't seem to treat him any differently than the rest of the students.

Perhaps it was because he and Malfoy continued to work together that

Snape never bothered him. When he and Snape were alone, though, Harry

got the feeling that the man wasn't even really there, that he was

thinking about something...or someone else. And that was okay. It made

Harry realise that he hadn't been the only one to lose something the

night his parents had died.

Malfoy had been...tolerable around him. He'd even stopped Crabbe and

Goyle from stalking him (those two, Harry thought, might have had a

strange sort of crush on him). Malfoy was snide and rude, and definitely

a little nosy twat, but he was...useful. He knew alot about people, and

about the wizarding world. And Malfoy probably thought he was useful

too. It was clear that they really didn't like each other, but they kind

of put up with each other to keep getting what they wanted.

Around the middle of April, Hermione tugged him along to Hagrid's cabin.

The girl was convinced that Hagrid was up to something- she'd seen him

in the library. According to her, Hagrid was almost never in the library

(and she would know).

"Hermione, it was probably nothing. Aren't you being a little paranoid?"

Hermione pointed to Hagrid's cabin. "Harry, it's in the middle of April!

Don't you think it's a bit strange that he's got a fire going?"

"...Well, maybe Hagrid's cold?" Harry asked, and Hermione rolled her

eyes, tugging him along.

The fire was the dragon egg that Hagrid was currently hatching. The

three had watched the tiny creature break its' shell. Harry was kind of

entranced by the process, as was Hagrid, ignoring Hermione who was

panicking about the legalities of such a creature.

It was a beautiful creature, but Harry did agree that Hagrid could not

keep it there. It simply wasn't safe. So they tried to make arrangements

with the man to turn it over to Dumbledore or something- then Hermione

remembered Ron mentioning that his brother worked for a Dragon Sanctuary

in Romania. Hagrid seemed to like that idea better, so they promised to

figure it out.

It got them in detention, and fifty points each were taken from him,

Neville, Hermione, and Malfoy, and they all had to go into the Forbidden

Forest to see what was killing Unicorns.

Harry thought it was an awful, dangerous sort of detention, especcially

one where they shouldn't have been split up, but Hagrid seemed to think

it was okay. Hagrid went with Neville and Hermione, because Harry didn't

trust Malfoy with Neville.

He and Malfoy got stuck with Fang, Hagrid's vicious looking, but

cowardly dog. Harry sighed, looking around the darkened forest, hands in

his pockets. Malfoy was scowling, kicking at the ground as they walked.

"This is servant's stuff." He muttered.

"You know, I've just about had it with you. Why were you following us

anyways?" Harry asked, turning towards the blonde with a scowl.

Malfoy glared back at him. "What, I'm not allowed to see what you and

Granger were up to? Anyways, you were the idiots that were smuggling a

bloody dragon out of the country."

"You're just jealous of my friendship with Hermione!" Harry said hotly,

putting his hands on his hips. "You've made no secret that you dislike

her because of her blood and all-"

Malfoy got in his face, looking angry. "I'm not jealous of her because

of that- she gets to spend all this time with you, and what do I get?

Potions! We hardly ever talk outside of class, it's like you don't even-"

"Malfoy, you're a bully and a spoiled prat. If you changed that, I might

want to hang out with you more." Harry said, eyes narrowing.

Malfoy's lips thinned, fists clenching at his sides. "...If we've come

to name-calling, I guess I can call you what everyone else is, behind

your back- /fag/." He hissed, grey eyes narrowing. Harry flinched at

this. "/Queer/."

"Stop it." Harry whispered, voice trembling.

"What, you're not so brave now, are you Potter? I'm still trying to

figure out how you got Sorted into Gryffindor."

"That's because I begged it not to Sort me into Slytherin!" Harry

yelled. "I knew that if the House was filled with prats like you, I'd go

mad!"

Malfoy was about to say something when he spotted something over Harry's

shoulder. "Potter.." He sounded scared. Harry turned, and they saw

silver blood dotting the ground.

Harry quickly followed the trail of blood, and Malfoy ran off to 'get

Hagrid', but Harry secretly thought the blonde didn't want to be

anywhere near whatever was going on here.

Harry held back a gasp as he saw the unicorn. It was laid out on the

ground, so beautiful and tragic, nearly glowing in the moonlight.

Something was feeding on its neck- the poor creature was already dead.

Harry hid behind the nearest tree, watching the shadowy figure. It

was...horrible. Who would do such a thing?

He took a step backwards as the figure glanced up, his hood covering his

face partially. Harry took a few more steps back, feeling a little

scared. Then the shadowy figure moved, swooping towards him swiftly-

Harry fell back, but before the thing could get to him, he heard the

loud sound of hooves sprinting towards them- a Centuar was kicking the

figure in the chest, making it fly away.

The Centaur turned- a Palomino body, partly man. He had long hair, and

he was quite good looking, and very serious. Harry stared up at him,

feeling scared, and relieved. "You saved me." He whispered, slowly

standing up, hands shaking. "Thank you."

"It is not safe for you in this forest, Harry Potter." The Centaur spoke

softly, bowing his head towards Harry. "Can you walk?"

Harry suddenly realised he was favoring one leg or another- he must have

twisted his ankle as he fell back. "Well...I..."

"No matter." He picked Harry up gently, putting him on his back. "Hold

on. I will take you to Hagrid, and you must leave. This place is not

safe for you."

Harry held on tightly. "What is your name?"

"Firenze."

"It's nice to meet you, Firenze." Harry whispered, clutching the Centaur

tightly as they galloped away.

X-x-x

Harry had quietly responded to an ad in the Daily Prophet for a flat in

Diagon. They'd wanted someone who was 'very open-minded' and 'loved

music and art'. Gender or age was not specified, and he would be getting

the top floor. Harry had told them that he was a student, seeking to

rent a place for just the summer. He told them that he had the money

that they were asking for the rather cheap rent, and that he loved music

quite a bit- muggle and magical.

Harry would rather have had rented a place in the muggle world...if he

thought anyone would rent to him. But he wanted to keep this all quiet,

so he only signed his name HP. He desperately wanted to get away from

the Dursleys, but he didn't want the Professors snooping in on his

business and making things worse.

They responded positively, saying that they rented to students all the

time, and would be happy to have him for the summer.

Final Exams began, and everything went pretty smoothly. It was all that

Harry could do to keep humming little ditties and tunes aloud while he

answered the questions- he knew that would have annoyed people. But

those little ditties had certainly helped him remember things!

His very last day of exams had him smiling- he kind of liked history,

since he never bothered listening to Binns. Most of his classmates had

nearly fallen asleep in their exams- only he and Hermione had managed to

stay properly awake.

Harry had been heading towards the music room to get a little practicing

in when he was suddenly ambushed in the corridor- someone had stunned

him from behind, and he fell forward, knowing no more.

X-x-x

Harry came to, his head hurting a little, and to someone's boots

standing inches from his face.

"Get up, pretty one." Came the hissing whisper.

Harry quickly did so, getting scared. Where was he? He looked around

wildly, noting the round chamber, the dias with a familiar looking

Mirror, and...Professor Quirrel? Hell, was the Professor some sort of pervert set on kidnapping him and...doing things to him?

"Professor?" He asked, feeling scared.

The man had turned towards the mirror, staring hard. "Boy, I want you to

look into that mirror. What do you see?" The hell?

"Er..." Harry went towards the mirror. The prettier, more grown up

version of himself stood there, smirking sensuously. James and Lily

Potter stood on either side, looking worried and sad. "I see me, with my

parents." He whispered, looking back to Quirrel. "What are you on about?"

"I need the Stone. The Philosopher's Stone. Get it for me."

"What?" Harry was terribly confused. "I have no bloody idea what you're

on about-"

"Get it for ME!" The man yelled, eyes flashing red.

Harry was suddenly fearful of those red eyes. "V-Voldemort?" He whispered.

"Yessss...you've finally figured it out, have you?"

Harry's heart beat fast, and he turned back towards the mirror, silently

panicking. Voldemort! How did Voldemort get here?

"If you get me the stone...I can give you all sorts of things."

Voldemort whispered. "Money...fame..."

"I've already got that." Harry snarked. Voldemort made to reach out for him, to touch his cheek, but Harry was stepping back. He didn't like the look in the man's red eyes. It scared him.

"Your parents?" He whispered breathlessly, knowing.

Harry's breath hitched at this. He stared at his reflection, his mirror

self slowly morphing back into his usual reflection. He looked scared,

and pale, and...just plain, ordinary Harry. His parents squeezed his

shoulders comfortingly. No...Voldemort could not get his parents back.

"I don't see it." Harry said in a small voice. "I don't know how to get

the stone back. If I did, I wouldn't give to you anyways." He whispered.

Voldemort growled, grabbing the his throat suddenly. "Listen here, you

little /twat/-" He suddenly hissed, bringing his hand back. His

hand was sizzling. "What is this?" His voice wavered, and he took a step

back. Those red eyes were switching to Hazel again- they looked scared.

"Master...I cannot touch the boy!" Quirrel cried.

"YES YOU CAN!" Voldemort's hiss rang out. "KILL HIM!"

Quirrel threw himself forward- Harry brought his hands up to Quirrel's

face- they smashed into the mirror, falling off the Dias. Harry watched

as Quirrel's face sizzled and burned at his touch, burning the man

alive. What was this magic?

Quirrel's skin was turning to ash now- Harry kicked the man's heavy body

off of him as he died. A shadowy form floated above Quirrel's body, and

flew away. Harry let his head fall back to the floor- he was suddenly

feeling tired, drained. Something was pricking him. It may have been the

glass. He may be bleeding. He wasn't quite sure.

He heard a door slam open, rather distantly. Footsteps. He smiled weakly

as he saw a concerned, familiar face hovering over his. "...You're

here." He whispered, closing his eyes, and he knew no more.

X-x-x

Harry was unconcious for three days. When he came to, it was in the

middle of the night, and he was alone. It felt very lonely, and he went

back to sleep. The next time he woke, he heard soft humming and a hand

going through his hair. He turned his head towards the sound, and saw

Hermione sitting there at his side.

"Hello sleepy head." The girl whispered, giving him a small smile.

"Hey." He rasped. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Three, nearly four days. Everyone knows what happened, naturally. Are

you okay?"

"...Yeah. Snape...he saved me."

The girl gave him an odd look. "He did? Everyone said it was Dumbledore

that carried you up."

"...I...thought I saw him." Harry sighed, closing his eyes. "Maybe I had

just imagined things. I was kind of out of it, after all.

So...is...Quirrel still alive?"

"...No." Hermione said quietly. "...No one is quite sure what happened

to him. The official story is that he burned in the fire."

"...Oh." Harry turned his head away from her. He'd killed a man with his

bare hands. A tear fell from the corner of his eye, and a line of

Bohemian Rhapsody got stuck in his head. "...Mama...I just killed a

man...put a gun to his head...pulled my trigger, now he's dead..."

"Harry darling...it's no time to be quoting songs." Hermione chastised

gently.

Harry started to sob.

Outside the bed curtains stood one Severus Snape, invisible, listening,

his heart breaking.

X-x-x

Harry left the Hogwarts Express, feeling...different. More so, than

usual. He felt like things had changed, since that day when he had woken

up in the hospital wing. His last few days of term had felt like a fog,

and now all he wanted to do was to get away for a little while and

concentrate on...other things.

Whilst on the train, he'd changed his clothes to something that was a

bit more...him. People were staring, but he didn't care. He was wearing

a band t-shirt with a cute red hoodie that Hermione had given him (it

had gotten a bit too small across the chest for her). He'd put on a pair

of black shorts, short black socks with black lace about the hem, and

his red converse.

His hood was up- he didn't want people staring at his scar. Kinda funny, since they'd be distracted by everything else he wore. His hair was down, slightly hiding his face since the hood was pressing it in a

little. His nails were painted black again, and McGonagall's brooch was

pinned to his jacket. He was wearing his Mother's baubles, he didn't

care if they were too girly or not.

"Fag." A student hissed as he passed. Harry ignored them. He saw

Hermione and her parents waiting for him outside the barrier- he could

see her parents staring at him, raising their brows. Still, Hermione had

said that they were open-minded.

"You must be Harry. It's nice to meet you. Hermione spoke of nothing

else in her letters." Mrs. Granger said warmly, shaking his hand.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Granger."

Mr. Granger shook his head, sizing him up silently. "...You one of those

punk-rocker types? You don't do drugs, do you?"

"Daddy! He's not even twelve!" Hermione hissed at her Father.

Harry smiled a little. "It's okay. And no, Mr. Granger, I don't do any

of that, and I don't plan on ever doing any of that." He said

breezily. He looked to Hermione, giving her a smile. "Have a good

holiday. I'll be seeing you on September first, then?"

"Of course!" Hermione gave him one of her big hugs. Harry hugged her

back, feeling kind of sad.

"Remember, 'Mione, you're my Mary Austin, right?"

Hermione giggled a little, looking a bit teary-eyed. "Yeah. Best friends

forever."

He gave her a playful salute. "Alright General Granger, you have a

lovely holiday, and I'll be seeing you. 'Ta." And he started to walk away.

"Harry!" Hermione called after him, and he turned. "...Where are your

relatives?"

"Eh. Around. Don't worry about me." Harry said with a smile, and he

continued to walk away.

X-x-x

Harry glanced at the paper in his hands, staring at the building he

would be renting his flat in. It was painted bright blue, with

multi-colored shutters and things- on the ground floor was the music

shop! What luck! He hadn't connected the two until now, and he was quite

thankful that he'd decided to do this.

He went through the hot pink door beside the shop entrance, and

levitated his suitcase up the stairs. The best thing about staying in

Diagon was that no one would be able to detect underage magic. There was

just too much interference. He was to be on the very top floor, but he

had to go by the first flat he passed to pick up the keys, and give his

rent money.

He knocked on the door, staring at the bright red door. Huh. The door

opened a crack, and then widened a little. A woman stood there. She was

wearing long skirts and a tunic, and her hair was quite long. She had

paint on her hands, and she was wiping at them with a rag. She looked

Harry over approvingly.

"...You must be the student. How old are you, kid?"

"Eleven. I'll be twelve at the end of July."

"...Well...you aren't the first. Your parents kick you out?"

"My parents are dead. My Guardians are assholes."

The woman's eyes narrowed a little, and she peered at him. "Harry

Potter...huh, well, as long as you don't make trouble, I don't care what

you do. Come in. I'll need to find the keys. You can leave your stuff

out there, it'll be just a minute."

Harry went into the flat- it was small, with wall to wall bookshelves

and paintings- it was quite colorful and wild. And messy. Colorful

abstract paintings were strewn about the place, as well as papers with

drawings on them A man was sitting on the floor, drawing in a sketchpad

with charcoal. He glanced over as he saw Harry, and did a doubletake.

"Hey, it's the student! Nice clothes, kid."

Harry stared at the guy- he wasn't wearing a shirt or shoes- he was just

wearing black trousers. His brown hair was messy, and he had a beard. He

heard Jimmy Hedrix playing in the background, and his confused smile

widened.

"Merlin, you guys are hippies!"

The woman rolled her eyes at this, digging through a jar by the door.

"You got the money?"

"Oh yeah." Harry handed her his money bag. "Full rent for the next three

months."

She peered into the bag, nodding a bit, and handed him the keys. "There

you go, kid." Harry grinned as he looked at the key. "You'll be on the

top floor, as you already know. Above us, we've got a lesbian couple-

you don't mind that, do you?"

Harry rolled his eyes at this. "Do I look like I would mind?"

She looked him over. "I guess not. Anyways, above them, we've got a

vampire chap-" At Harry's alarmed look, she hastened to explain. "He's a

cool guy. He keeps to himself, mostly- he only drinks pig's blood, so

don't worry. You okay with that?"

"Uh...yeah. I guess so." Harry said quietly. How strange, the world he

lived in. "So who owns the music shop?"

"Oh, that's Grace. She's one of the lesbians that lives upstairs."

"...Last time I was there, the clerk was a guy."

"Oh, that's Jimmy." The woman made a face. "A real square. He only comes

in during the busy season."

"You draw, kid?" The guy who'd yet to introduce himself said from his

place on the floor.

"I do, a little. I make my own clothes sometimes, and I write and play

music. I want to be a musician."

"Cool." The woman seemed to warm up to him a bit. "You any good?"

"...I guess so. People say I am." Harry gave a little shrug.

"Alright, well, if you got any problems with the flat or anything, just

let us know. Sometimes there's a spot of bother with the hot water, but

you know warming charms, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then we're good."

x-x-x

Harry headed up to his flat, glancing at the doors he'd passed on the

landings. The 'lesbian couple' door was painted a rich green, and a gold

plate simply stated 'Grace and Wren'. The 'Vampire Chap' just had a

plain brown door, but he could hear Jazz music blasting through it.

Harry grinned a little, really liking this place a lot. Maybe he could

buy the flat outright once he finished Hogwarts?

He finally reached the top floor, and looked at his door. It was painted

a cheerful yellow. He unlocked the door, and went into the flat. It was

tiny. Very tiny. But he figured it would be, with the rent he was

paying. It was a one room sort of deal, with a loo attached. There was a

kitchette, and a convertable sofa, and lots of empty shelves. The walls

were painted a faded green color, and the hardwood floors had paint

spatters.

That was alright. It had character. There were windows, and it looked

like the balcony outside led up to the roof. Cool. He set his things

down, letting Hedwig out of her cage. This summer was going to be

awesome, he just knew it.

X-x-x

Harry met Grace the very next day, when he went to visit the music shop.

She was an older lady with curly greying hair, and pretty green robes.

He'd expected her to be younger, maybe. Still, that didn't stop him from

approaching her.

"Hello young man, can I help you?"

Harry smiled. "I'm Harry. I just moved into the flat on the top floor."

"Oh my, you're a little younger than our usual tenants up there..." She

gave him a smile. "But I suppose you have your reasons for setting out

on your own. Welcome to the building, Mr. Harry."

"Thanks. I was here last summer, when I was getting my supplies...I kind

of came in here and scared your clerk half to death...um...Jimmy, right?"

"Oh...yes." The woman looked a little amused. "Jim's sometimes a worrywart."

"Do you mind if I play on the piano sometimes?" He motioned to the piano

by the window.

"I don't mind." The woman smiled. "You play anything else?"

"I've always wanted to, but..." Harry shrugged, heading towards the

piano. "I dunno. So, how long have you had this shop?" He sat on the

bench, testing the height a little. This was a gorgeous piano, in much

better condition than the one at the school.

"Oh, for about thirty years now. We- my Partner and I- own the building.

Since Wren and I are out and about all the time, we let Max and Zoey

deal with the tenants."

"Cool. You mind if I play muggle music?"

"No, I don't mind at all. It's been a while since I got to go over

to the muggle world, so feel free."

Harry grinned and thought about what he wanted to play. Hmm... "Cry

Baby, by Janis Joplin." He said with a little nod, and he began to sing

the intro- he began to sing, closing his eyes, really getting into it,

belting it out loudly, rocking a little as he banged at the piano.

As he finished, Grace clapped, making him jump a little and look to her

with a little grin. "That was a Fantastic song. And that was a muggle

artist?"

"Yeah, as far as I know, she's muggle." Harry said, panting. That song

took a little out of him. He could never compare to Goddess Janis, but

he could certainly try his best.

"Well, it was great. Do you know any other songs?" She asked, going to

open the door and the windows to the shop, making the place brighten up

a bit more, letting the sunlight in. Coincidentally, it allowed

passersby to stop and listen.

x-x-x

Harry loved his little flat. Whenever he wasn't there, rocking out to his

albums, doing summer homework, and writing music, he was often in the

music shop, playing on the piano there. Grace was happy to let him play-

it brought customers in.

Whenever Harry wasn't at the shop, he went out and about in Diagon and

in muggle London. He bought some more records, some fun sewing patterns

and fabric for some clothes he wanted to make- he also went to the

Theatre for the first time. He could see why Hermione went on and on

about musicals, her favored choice of music. They were quite fun. He

went to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show (He'd snuck in

under his invisibility cloak). He fell in love with Tim Curry and

his amazing attire, voice, and attitude.

Harry also went to a couple of concerts- he fell in love with Bjork, who

was a newcomer to London was currently making her first solo album. He

loved her colorful style and unique sound. He also saw Soft Cell

perform, and fell in love with their lyrics- he was looking forward to

covering some of their songs, and he was eager to buy their music.

Max and Zoey (the hippies), were cool. He hung out with them sometimes

in their flat. They were both artists. Zoey was an abstract painter,

while Max did political cartoons for a magazine called the Quibbler.

They introduced him to some musicians (muggle and magical alike) he

hadn't heard of.

He was kind of sad that Hermone was not returning any of his letters.

But hopefully there had to be a really, really good reason for that.

Harry continued to experiment with his style, actually going to thrift

stores and buying girl's clothing outright. He was often mistaken as a

girl anyways, so it didn't matter much. Harry had finally discovered

Donna Summer's dico-era music. He'd been a big fan of her in the

Supremes, but after hearing some of her solo stuff, he ended up getting

some of her albums.

He was singing one of her songs in the Music shop late one evening while

Grace was closing up her shop when an older man entered. Harry glanced

up, eyes riveted on him. The man was quite tall, his skin tanned (but

not overly so) , and his short hair completely white. He was bloody

gorgeous. Harry continued to play on the piano, studying the man's

physique- he wore a black tank top that showed off some serious muscle

and some black trousers and boots. He looked bloody sexy.

"Grace, I'm going to have to borrow your piano player. Gia cancelled on

us, last minute. You mind?"

"Ask him." Grace said, waving towards Harry, counting her till.

The man looked towards Harry, glancing him over. "How old are you?"

"Depends. What do you need?" Harry asked with a little smile, still playing.

"I need a performer, just for tonight only. I'll give you 50 Galleons."

Harry glanced towards Grace, and the woman gave him a small nod.

Harry looked back towards the man. "Alright. When and where?"

"In an hour, and down the street. We've got a piano there. I don't care

what you play, as long as it makes people dance and spend their money."

"I can do that." Harry grinned. "Let me just kip upstairs and get

ready." He said, and stood from the bench. He saw the man look him over.

He was wearing a pair of denims and a hot pink shirt- his nails were

painted black, and he wore lots of bands on his wrists.

"Change into something cute and bright. What's your name, kid?"

"Harry."

" Huh. Well, hurry up and get ready. I'll give you half an hour, and then I'll take

you to the pub."

"Thanks!"

He grinned at Grace, and the woman gave him a little smile. He headed

for the stairs, and paused, turning a little. "What's your name, Sir?"

"Everyone just calls me Boss." The guy said with a laugh. "Michael,

Mike, whatever."

"I'll be back soon." Harry ran up the stairs excitedly.

In the darkened music shop, Grace spoke with a little smile. "Did Gia

really cancel on you?"

"Yeah. Came down with the 'flu'. He's just a kid. How old is he?"

"He's nearly twelve. He's Harry Potter, you know that, right?"

The man stared at the staircase. "Huh. He doesn't look like I thought he

would."

"Most people say that." Grace said, smiling a little.

"He's kind of adorable. Real heartbreaker, when he grows up a bit, I'm

sure. If he wasn't Harry Potter, I'd give him a stage name."

"Hmm, well, that name doesn't really suit him anyways. He's more

like..." Grace paused in her counting, looking upwards. "A sweet, that's

got a darker hint of flavor. You just know that something dark is in his

past, but he's so...cute and happy..." She scrunched up her nose. "He's

still young." Grace was kind of a mellow, easy going lady. It may have

had something to do with the stuff that Max and Zoey supplied her with

every once in a while.

"I'm ready! I'm ready!" Harry cried, skidding into the shop. He was

wearing a pair of bright red short shorts and Hermione's matching red

hoodie. He wore white stockings and his red converse. His hair was

loose, and he'd thrown on a few rings and baubles onto his fingers.

"Let me see the shirt." Mike said, crossing his arms, looking the boy

over. He...was bloody cute. He was definitely going to have to tell some

of the customers hands off. The boy unzipped his t-shirt, showing a tiny

black Sex Pistols shirt that was ripped about the hem. The man nodded approvingly.

"Alright, let's go. I'll look after him Grace, don't you worry."

"I think the young man can look after himself, darling." Grace said with

a small laugh.

Harry hurried after Mike, grinning excitedly, raising his hood to block

the chilly night air. "So, how many songs do you want me to play? I know

a lot- classical, jazz, rock and roll, motown, disco-"

"Whatever you want to play, as long as it makes people dance." Mike said

as they headed into Knockturne. Harry felt a little nervous about

playing in Knockturne- he'd been there a couple of times during the day,

and it felt like a dark, dreary place.

At night, though...nighttime was a whole other story. The place seemed

to be packed full of people, all the shops had come alive. Harry grinned

at this- wow, this was certainly his kind of place! The people were

dressed pretty wild, laughing and tipsy, having a good time.

He followed Mike quickly to a place that didn't look like much on the

outside. In fact, there wasn't a crowd there, either. Was this place

crappy? Still, it was his first official paying gig, so he didn't care.

He followed the man down the side street. He saw some men gathered

behind the building, smoking. They all greeted Mike merrily, Looking at

Harry. A few of them even whistled at him.

They went in the door, and down some narrow stone stairs- Harry could

hear the thudding of music playing, and it matched the mad beat of his

heart. "This place is for folks like us. It...officially doesn't exist,

so don't tell anybody, you understand?"

Oh boy.

And as they went through a set of double doors, Harry could see why such

a place would want to be kept secret. It was a bloody gay club. Well then!

"Alright darlin', you go through those back doors there. The piano's up

on the stage, you go right after Kate. The dyke with the guitar." He

motioned vaguely to a young woman with a blonde pixie cut. She was

wearing a grey tank top that didn't hide much, and beat-up denims, and

some kick ass boots. Harry liked her already. Her black acoustic guitar

was slung over her shoulder, and she was flirting with a dark haired

woman in some rather tight fitting black robes.

"Thanks!" Harry said cheerfully. Mike just waved him off, heading

towards the bar, where the poor bartender looked a little overwhelmed.

Well! This place looked like it was crazy busy, and...quite loud. How

were they going to hear him over this din?

Still, it looked like Kate only had an acoustic guitar, so they must have

made some arrangements. He watched Kate knock back her drink, and go

backstage. He nervously followed her. She glanced towards him as he

entered- she was fixing her hair a little in a tiny cracked mirror up on

the wall. It wasn't much of a backstage area. It was more like a hallway

that led to the stage.

"You replacing Gia tonight?" She asked, looking him up and down, arching

her brow a little.

"Yeah. You Kate?"

She nodded. "Nice to meet you, kid. What's your name?"

"Harry."

Her other brow raised to meet the other one. "You're a boy? Wow." She

looked him over again. "I don't even like guys, and I totally thought

you were cute. You sing?"

"And play the piano."

"Cool. I'm gonna play about five or six songs. They're slow, so it'll

make everyone go a bit quiet, so after I'm finished, you gotta move

quickly to keep 'em quiet, alright?"

"Yeah."

She gave him a little wink, and headed out onto the stage. There was

some whistles and hollers, and the young woman conjured a stool and

pulled it up to the was very similar to the one that the

Hogwarts Choir had, with the amplifying runes on the metal stand.

"Hey everyone. It's good to see ya again. Alright, I want all my girls

up on the dance floor and bring your sweeties in real close!" And then

she began to sing. She had a good, strong voice, and indeed, everyone

was going a bit quiet. Harry peeked out from behind the curtains,

smiling a little. Everyone was dancing slowly, some snogging, some just

watching her with their arms about each other. She wasn't bad with her

guitar either- she had all original stuff too.

How come she wasn't on the WWN like those other bands? She was totally

better than all of them, certainly better than that Celestina Warbeck.

Warbeck's stuff was cheezy and corny, but this girl, Kate, had stuff

that wouldn't even seem out of place in the muggle world. It

was...something people could relate to.

Harry watched, and listened, smiling. This was what music was about.

Making people feel things, think about things. Moving them. He was kind

of in awe, to see it happening in such a way.

Kate was soon taking her bow- people were clapping and cheering for her.

Kate gave him a grin as she saw him. "Alright kid, you're up next!" She

swatted him on the bum playfully. Mike seemed to show up out of nowhere

(he must have come up from behind).

"Alright, I'm going to introduce you. People...might get a little

crazy once they hear your name. Just play your heart out, I've heard

you before, just play, and let it do your talking for you, alright?"

"Yeah." Harry said, feeling a little nervous.

And the man strode out onto the stage, picking up the mike, and he

spoke. "Hello everyone, we've got a new performer tonight- he's cute,

got talented fingers, and mouth that- oh wait, that's my boyfriend!"

There was some scattered laughter at this. "Now, now, let's be serious.

If this kid was really my boyfriend, I'd be in serious trouble. Alright,

let's give it up for HAARRRY POTTEEER!"

Harry stumbled onto the stage, ignoring Kate's wide-eyed stare. There

was quite a bit of whispering and pointing, and people began to whistle

at him. Harry blushed a bit as Mike took the microphone to the piano for

him. He'd have to stand up to sing into it, but that was alright.

Harry gave a grin to Mike, thanking him quietly. He shoved the piano

bench aside with his foot a little, and leant in to speak into the mike.

"Hello everyone." He said quietly into the mike, his lips close. He

could hear himself breathing heavily- he was so nervous! "This is my

first time, so...be gentle with me?" He asked playfully, hearing some

laughter and some more whistles.

He put his hands on the keyboard, and grinned. He started up with

Jefferson Airplane's Somebody To Love, singing his heart out. Not

even stopping to pause, he went into Joan Jett and the Blackhearts' I

don't give a damn about my reputation. As he sang this, he stripped his

jacket off, dropping it to the stage, dancing a got people really riled

up, and Harry went on to sing Heart's Barracuda, and from there. He

sang Soft Cell's Tainted Love, and then went to Erasure's Chains of

Love. They were all pretty big hits among the gay community in the

muggle world, and he was right about the wizard folk here loving it just

as much.

He decided to get away from the piano a bit, carrying the mike to the

center of the stage, and sang Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive, then The

Beatle's All My Loving. He played Mary Well's My Guy, which had

people clapping to the beat and laughing a little at Harry's campy

behavior. It had gone over much better than it had at Hogwarts. He

slowed things down a bit, singing Ella Fitzgerald's Summertime, then

Nina Simone's Love Me or Leave Me. Then he sang Patsy Cline's Walkin'

After Midnight. He then sped things up a bit with Papa Was a Rolling

Stone, by the Temptations- it had people dancing again, And then for

the final song? The Clash's Should I Stay or Should I Go?

As he finished the song, hey gave an exhausted grin, and a little bow.

"So...should I stay or should I go?" He asked breathlessly.

"Stay!Stay!" Came the chants.

Harry looked offstage, glancing towards Mike and Kate, whose jaws were

dropped, and they were staring at him with wide eyes. He gave them a

little grin. He then looked out towards the crowd, and spoke. "Alright-

just one more song. I'll be breaking curfew, otherwise." He said, his

smile wide, making people laugh.

He headed back to the piano, and set up the mike. He put his hands on

the keyboard, and closed his eyes. And then he began to sing Queen's

Don't Stop Me Now, starting out slow, and then going faster as it went

along. He was bent over the piano, banging at the keys wildly, bum

wiggling in time to the song as he sang his heart out.

As he finally hopped off the stage, grabbing his jacket tiredly, people

shook his hands, clapping him on the back, pinching his cheek (and his

bum too), he kept telling everyone that all of the songs were by muggle

artists, and that you could find the albums easily in the muggle world.

As he finally went up to the bar, wanting to get a drink, he met up with

Kate, who was smiling widely at him. "You got a pair of lungs on you,

kid. Not bad on the piano, either. You play guitar?" She asked,

motioning to her guitar.

"No. I write music, though." Harry said, still breathing hard. His

throat was hurting now, too.

"Cool. Let me get you a drink." She gave him a wink. "Just a butterbeer,

though."

The two of them sat in the back of the busy bar while records of Weird

Sisters and various wizarding bands played. Harry's voice was raw from

singing, but Kate understood he couldn't talk much. She told him her

story. She was a muggleborn, 22. She'd graduated from Hogwarts a while

back, and worked as an office underling at the Ministry- fetching coffee

and the like. She hated it terribly. She'd been writing her own music

since she was fifteen. Her parents had disowned her when they found out

she was a lesbian, so she ran off to the wizarding world for good...not

that things were much better there.

"So, how about you? When did you know?"

Harry flushed, looking at his empty butterbeer bottle. "Don't know,

actually. I think some girls are cute, some guys too." He blushed a bit.

"I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

"Guess so." Kate gave him a little smile. "Well, cheers Harry, for your

first fantastic show!" She clinked her firewhiskey glass against his

butterbeer bottle. "Let's get you another one, eh?"

x-x-x

The next day, Harry was exhausted and tired. He laid in his bed, dressed

in his knickers, listening to some Donna Summer playing softly on his

record player. He rolled onto his stomach, hugging his pillow a little. He

smiled tiredly, thinking about the night before. He'd been up 'til 2am,

dancing and having a good time. It had felt...right, being there, just

like it felt right, being in the magical world.

Mike had offered to let him come back- he'd pay 70 Galleons for a show

on Friday nights. At least until term started up again. Harry had

recommended that they pick up some muggle records to play, since all of

his songs had been covers, and everyone had seemed to like them.

He really needed take a shower- he somehow had glitter all over him, and

he smelled like alcohol. He hadn't drank anything heavier than a

butterbeer, but his head felt heavy, and he knew if he tried to speak,

he would have a hard time doing so. His lips quirked as he heard the

lovely Donna's Love Hangover begin to play.

He hugged his pillow a little tighter, thinking about all the men he'd

seen the previous night, dancing together. For the first time, he'd seen

two men kiss, and it had taken his breath away. Even watching two women

kiss was kind of hot, but two men...wow. There was just some sort

of...magic to it. He squirmed a little, biting his lip. His... thing had

gotten hard.

Aunt Petunia had constantly told him over the years to never do such

things, that only bad boys did such things, but...Harry felt...dirty.

Bad. After all, he'd stayed out quite late, hanging out in a gay club,

watching men snog. He giggled a little, hips shifting against his purple

and pink flowered sheets. He rubbed his face on his silky pillow sham,

burying his face in it, shifting his hips back and forth, thinking about

how it would have been to dance with one of those older men. It wouldn't

have been a good idea, but it was still nice to think about.

He let out a soft groan, hand inching down, slipping between himself in

the bed, groping himself through his lacy knickers. He bit his lip,

rolling onto his back, gasping as he began to stroke himself properly

for the first time. His toes curled at the sensation, hand quickening.

He knew it wouldn't take long, he was just...so...so sensitive! He

licked his lips, arching up a little. "Yess..." He whispered

breathlessly, his other hand groping his balls, squeezing gently. He

whimpered a little, hips shifting upward- he was cumming all too soon,

shaking with the force of his orgasm.

He let out a breathless laugh, glancing down at the mess he'd made, then

stared up at the dingy cieling above him.

All he could hear was his heavy breathing, Donna Summer's sultry tune,

and those damned birds outside. He felt...kind of amazing and happy and

floating, kind of like the same high he got when he performed. It had been the very first time he'd ever touched himself like that. And then...those happy feelings began to fade away, and he began to feel very sad for some inexplicable reason. He started to cry, wondering why he felt so strange, so weird, why he felt...unfufilled. Why did he feel so sad? He didn't quite understand why he felt like this.

X-x-x

A couple of weeks later, Harry was singing as he headed up the stairs to

his flat. He'd been out shopping in the muggle world. As he'd been

getting girl clothes, he was wearing a simple black shift dress over

black capris, and paired them with his red converse and hoodie. He had a

couple of dresses now- honestly, it wasn't that different from wearing

robes.

He was singing Joan Jett and the Blackhearts' Do You Want to Touch Me

at the top of his voice as he climbed the stairs, dancing and posing

dramatically on each of the stairwells, pretending that he was performing.

He'd just done that on the 'vampire chap's ' stairwell, posing in a

dramatic swoon, leaning up against the handrail, his bags slipping up

his arm when he brought up one of his hands into the air with a dramatic

flair. The door opened a little with a quiet creak, gaining his attention.

Harry squeaked, and he saw a white haired man peeking out from behind

the door. His skin was paper-white, and his white hair was long and

braided elaborately. He wore black sweatpants and a grey tank top, and

his feet were bare. He was quite good looking, and whatever Harry had

been imagining a vampire to look like was not...him.

"Hello." The man said, his amber eyes studying him, looking him up and

down slowly. Harry gave him a little nervous smile, tugging on his

clothing a little, blushing.

"...Hi. I...I live upstairs. Sorry if I bothered you."

"It's quite alright. I'm Rene- just Rene. I've seen you around...but I

still have not figured it out- are you a boy? Or are you a girl? I hope

you don't mind me asking."

Harry flushed a little. He was used to people asking him this in the muggle world, where most of the time they assumed he was female. He honestly didn't mind...people treated him nicer when they thought he was a girl. "I'm just me, I suppose. I'm Harry. Harry

Potter." He held out his hand to the man. The man shook it, eyes

glinting with interest.

"A pleasure to meet you, Harry."

"...Are you really a vampire?" Harry asked quietly, peering up at him.

The man laughed softly, showing that he indeed did have fangs. "I do,

child. But do not worry, I won't hurt you or anyone else here."

"I wasn't worried." Harry replied quickly, and blushed at Rene's knowing

look.

"It's quite alright. I understand. You're quite good at singing."

"Thank you."

"I saw you playing at the Underground last week."

"Really?" Harry grinned. Wow. "It wasn't in the papers or anything..."

"Word of mouth tends to be the best way of communicating. I also go

there once in a while." Rene said, looking thoughtful. " Well, I wish

you the best of luck, Harry." He gave a little bow, his long hair

slipping in front of his shoulder. He gave Harry a long look.

"You're...what, eleven, nearly twelve?"

Harry gave a little nod at this. The man reached for his doorknob,

smiling a little, eyes hooded. "Hmm. Hopefully we'll meet again when

you've grown up a bit." He said with a sultry smile. "Have a good

evening, darling." And then he closed the door.

Harry stared at the plain wooden door, feeling kind of...he didn't know

how to feel. He felt sort of squirmy, but in a good way. He blushed,

recognizing that as arousal. He hurried up the steps to his flat, trying

not to think about it too much.

x-x-x

Harry woke to a loud screech, making him sit up abruptly. Before his eyes, he saw a scawny house elf wrestling with Hedwig, fighting over a package. Hedwig was screeching, flapping her wings, clearly winning the tug-of-war against the elf.

"Hey! What's going on here?" Harry asked, looking at the two.

They both froze, and the house elf let go of the package, looking guilty. Hedwig flew back a little, clutching the package in her talons. She dropped it onto Harry's lap, making him wince. It felt heavy, like a book. It was probably from Hermione. He pushed the book off his lap, scowling.

"Who are you? And why are you trying to steal my birthday presents? And...are those my letters?" Harry asked, getting out of bed now.

The house elf trembled a little. "I'm sorry!" He wailed. "I is only wanting Harry Potter to be safe, and I-I is thinking that if you is not getting letters from your friends, that you is not wanting to go back to Hogwarts-"

Harry sighed roughly. "Look, nothing you do will keep me from going back to Hogwarts. Give me my letters." Harry said, taking the letters from Dobby, putting them on his bed. "...Would you like some tea or something?"

The poor elf began to sob.

It was then that Harry found out that Dobby (the elf) was trying to save his life in some twisted manner, because apparently something bad was going to Hogwarts that year. Much later, Harry would look back at this point with regret, wishing he'd listened to the House Elf.

"Dobby, I have to go back to Hogwarts. I have to learn magic."

Dobby just gave him a tearful look, and popped away.

Harry sat on his bed, opening the letter he'd just gotten from Hermione.

Dear Harry,

I'm kind of worried that you haven't been answering your post. Are you alright? I know you and your relatives don't get on, so I hope you are okay. If you can manage to get away from them, I'll be in Diagon on your birthday- today at noon, in the Leaky Cauldron. If you can meet me there, I can give you your present! Please come?

Your friend,

Hermione

Harry could see how worried she sounded. He felt kind of mad. He assumed the Dobby had never given Hermione the letters he'd sent her either. He sighed roughly, and glanced at the clock. He still had a while before he had to go.

He glanced at the rest of the packages on his bed, and began to open them. Hagrid had given him a photo album with lots of pictures of his parents (more of his dad than anything), and some rock cakes. He'd also gotten a blank songbook from Su, and some new quills from Hannah. McGonagall had given him a tiny golden cat pendant, which made him smile. Dumbledore had gotten him some Opera sheet music. Harry had never actually sung opera before (unless you counted rock operas).

Harry got ready for the day, taking a bath, and then getting dressed. He wore a spaghetti strap red empire waistline shirt with a bit of eyelets about the hems. With it, he'd put on girl's low-slung black courderoys, some black sandals, his black bracelets and baubles, leaving his hair loose and messy, brushing past his shoulders. And to top it off? A pair of black sunglasses.

The previous day, as a birthday present to himself, he'd gotten his eyes healed at the wizarding optometrist. As soon as his vision recovered (it was better than ever, actually), he promptly got a pair of black granny-sunglasses in the muggle world. The wizarding world didn't have such things, which Harry thought was kind of silly- I mean, wizards could get the sun in their eyes too, right?

He grabbed his black leather satchel, and headed down the stairs. He saw Max hanging out in the doorway to his flat, smoking one of those funny-smelling handrolled cigarettes.

"Hey kid, what you up to today?"

"Going shopping! It's my birthday!"

"No way- awesome. Come by the flat tonight, me and Zoey will have somethin' for you."

"Aw, thanks Max." Harry said, giving a little wave. He entered the music shop, grinning as he saw Grace at the till. He gave her a little wave too. He'd yet to meet Wren- from what he understood, she worked as a cursebreaker for Gringott's, and worked strange hours. He hoped to meet her sometime.

"Going out, Harry?"

"Shopping with Hermione- today's my birthday!"

"Well, happy birthday darling." She gave Harry a gentle smile. "Make sure you come by the shop before I close up, alright?"

"I will." He left with a grin, humming as he walked down the street, putting his sunglasses on. He attracted stares as he shouldered his bag. He looked (and felt) totally cool.

He approached the Leaky Cauldron, and saw Hermione with her parents just outside the entrance, scanning the crowds. Harry grinned as he saw Hermione spot him. He gave a wave, and the girl squealed, running towards him.

Harry caught her with a laugh, hugging her back. "Hey girl."

"I was so worried! Why didn't you write back?"

"I did write you, but it seems like a house elf named Dobby has been tampering with my mail all summer." He explained to her about what had happened that morning, making the girl roll her eyes.

"Only you, Harry. Wow, you look really nice! Are...the muggles okay with you dressing like that?"

Harry lifted his sunglasses, making a face. "Never went back to them." He put his glasses atop his head. Hermione looked a little shocked.

"So...where have you been staying?"

"Eh, rented a little flat. It's pretty cheap, and I get to do whatever I want. Anyways, I started this gig at this place, and you'll never believe-" He blushed, seeing her parents looking at them from afar. "We'll talk about this later." He whispered, winding her arm through his, approaching her parents. They kind of gave him a look-over. "Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger, it's good to see you both again."

"Yes...well, our Hermione was a bit concerned about you. Everything going alright?" Mrs. Granger asked, looking him over.

"Never better!"

"He never went back to his relatives!" Hermione cried.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed.

"What? You really shouldn't be staying on your own, Harry, it's not safe-"

"I can take care of myself, okay? I've already been doing it for ages. At least here, I won't get beaten and locked up!" Harry said heatedly, and suddenly realized what he'd said. Hermione looked like she was about to cry. Harry looked away, flushing. "Sorry." He whispered.

"..So...uh, you two ready to do some school shopping?" Mr. Granger asked awkwardly.

"Daddy, I thought we were going to get some lunch at Florean's first? I wanted to give Harry his present."

"Alright, lunch first, then we'll go get your supplies."

Harry and Hermione walked arm in arm in front of Mr. And Mrs. Granger. Harry told Hermione about some of the things he'd done- playing in the music shop, doing a bit of shopping, completing his summer homework (which she was quite pleased about), and getting a gig at a mysterious place.

"Oh! I wish I could go!" Hermione said as he said this. They were all sitting down at Florean's with their ice cream by the time their conversation took that turn.

"I don't think think your parents would let you." Harry said with a little smile. "It's uh, kind of a gay club."

"Oh, so you made up your mind, then?" Hermione asked with a little laugh, ignoring her parents' wide eyed stares.

"No, not yet. When I figure it out, I'll let you know." Harry said with a little laugh. "I've gotten some of my school supplies already- I just need to get my books. Whoever is teaching Defense this year must be a real Lockhart fan." He rolled his eyes at this.

Hermione grinned. "Lockhart's pretty great, right?"

"I think he's a bit of a fop, actually. I can tell by just looking at his photos in the papers."

"You're the last person to judge a book by its cover!" Hermione said with a frown.

Harry shrugged, not getting mad. "I'm just saying what I think. Anyways, how were your hols?"

x-x-x

Hermione had given him a friendship bracelet. Harry promised to give her one too, when he could make one. The two walked arm in arm to get their school supplies, Harry mostly just looking since all he needed to get were his books. There was a huge line outside of the bookshop, because Lockhart was doing a book signing that day.

Harry followed Hermione into the bookshop...reluctantly. He really didn't want to be in there, especially knowing reporters would be around. The place was packed, with many of their classmates and their parents.

Fred spotted Harry, and waved at him a little. Harry grabbed Hermione by the wrist, and the two approached the Weasley family. "Well, well, if it isn't Harry and Hermione! Knew you two wouldn't miss Lockhart's book signing." Fred said with a wink.

"Ooh, he's soooo dreamy." George simpered, laughing a bit.

Hermione and Harry glared at the boys, but they were still smiling. Ron was glowering at them, and a little red headed girl was taking in Harry with wide eyes. Their Mother gasped, eyes going up and down Harry as well.

"You must be Harry." She said warmly, shaking his hand. "My boys have told me all about you- I knew your parents dear, during the war. James and Lily were fine folk, they were." She looked around. "Where is your Father, children?"

"He's gettin' Ginny's books." Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, Fairy Potter and his fag-hag Know-It-All...you excited about getting Lockhart's books?"

"Shut up, Ron." Hermione glowered.

"Ronnie, don't be so rude." Mrs. Weasley hissed.

"Yeah, I'll have you know I haven't exactly made up my mind yet, with the...gay thing and all." Harry said, putting his hands on his hips. George and Fred exchanged an amused look, and Ron snorted. It was then that Harry realised that all of the other people packed in so closely with them were staring at him with wide eyes. "Uh..."

Lockhart came out from behind a curtain with a flourish, wearing silk lavender robes, smirking. "Hello everyone!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as everyone's attention went to the blonde haired man. He rolled his eyes as every female with fifty feet was all gaga all over him. He was going to be sick. He feigned throwing up, making George laugh softly.

"Dear me! Is that Harry Potter? Come here, dear child, you and I together make the front page!"

Harry yelped as he was pushed forward, and Lockhart pulled him close, posing for a photo. "When Mr. Potter came into to get a copy of my autobiography 'Magical Me', what he did not realise was that he would be geting my entire collected works- free of charge." He posed for another picture. Harry was squished against his side, feeling very awkward indeed.

"What's more, this coming fall, I've been invited to teach at Hogwarts, so I can teach Mr. Potter a thing or two about slaying dark wizards!"

Harry was handed a stack of books. He put his sunglasses on, giving a deadpan expression for the camera to show how sooo very happy he was. This guy was a cheesy fop, and Harry didn't want anything to do with him.

"Potter's a Fairy! He doesn't know anything about defeating bad guys like you, Lockhart!" Someone called out from the crowd, making everyone murmur. Harry recognized Ron's voice, and he saw Mrs. Weasley smacking him on the back of his head.

Harry flushed, slipping away from the crowd quickly, handing off his books to Ginny. "Here Ginny, I don't plan on reading any of this crap. I know you need to buy these too." He said quietly. He figured it would probably be expensive, buying all these books.

"Thanks." Ginny said, looking at him with wide eyes.

Harry pushed his way through the crowded store, feeling a little bit more than a little frustrated. Fucking hell, everyone was going to know!

"So it's true, then. You really are a queer." Malfoy drawled, walking down the stairs slowly.

Harry turned, scowling at Malfoy, slowly lifting his glasses. "So what if I fucking am?" Harry asked heatedly. "At least I have an excuse for acting the way I do. What about you, Malfoy?"

Malfoy scowled, getting into his face. "You know what-"

"Now, now Draco." Another voice came, and Harry stiffened as Draco was pushed subtly away with a black ebony cane with a silver handle. Harry stared at Lucius Malfoy for the first time, taking in the finely tailored robes, the pristine long white hair, and the cold look in his silvery eyes. The man was checking him out too, to his shock.

Bloody hell.

"Don't be rude." Mr. Malfoy said, lips twitching. "You must be Mr. Potter. My son has told me so much about you."

Harry sucked in a breath, as Mr. Malfoy tugged Harry close by his wrist, pushing back his bangs with the end of his cane. The man's cold silver eyes looked briefly to his scar, his eyes, and then to his lips. "Excuse me. Your scar is legend."

Harry pulled away slowly, feeling his heart racing. Bloody hell, why did Malfoy's dad have to be so hot? And most certainly dangerous?

"Well, I'm afraid I don't know you all that well, Sir." Harry said, lifting his chin a little, trying to keep calm.

The man bowed his head slightly. "I am Lucius Malfoy, Draco's Father." He glanced to the others that were quickly coming behind Harry. "You must be Miss Granger, am I correct?" He glanced to his son, who nodded. Hermione nodded, looking a little tense.

Mr. Malfoy then looked to the Weasleys, then seeing Arthur. "Ah...yes, Mr. Weasley and your brood." His eyes narrowed, taking some second-hand books from Ginny's cauldron. "Really, Arthur, what's the point of you doing all those raids if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley scowled at the man, fists clenching at his sides.

Mr. Malfoy smirked a little, dropping the books back into Ginny's cauldron. "Come Draco. Let's go." He glanced at Harry as he passed. "It was very nice meeting you at last, Mr. Potter."

Harry shivered a little, watching the two of them leave the bookshop. "Let's get the hell out of this place." He whispered, putting his sunglasses back on.

X-x-x

Harry gasped happily, holding the guitar up. "Oh my God! Thank you so much!"

Grace smiled at Harry's happiness. They were in the shop that evening, with Max, Zoey, and Kate. He was holding an all black acoustic guitar. It was beautiful, made out of Ebony wood. Grace leant forward, motioning to the tiny etched runes around certain parts of the guitar. "These will help keep the instrument in good shape. If you have any problems with it, just let me know, okay?"

Harry nodded at this- he was so excited! He'd played on some of the guitars in the shop, just fooling around, and now he owned one.

"Open our gift next!" Max said with a grin.

Harry opened their package, hugging them as he saw the guitar music books- "Aw guys, thank you so much! I can't wait to start playing."

"And here you go-" Kate handed him a small package. He grinned at the extra strings, guitar picks.

"Also, before the summer is over, I'll give you a couple of lessons, alright?"

"Yay! You guys are so great, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Harry said happily, hugging all of them again.

X-x-x

The following day, on page two of the Daily Prophet, Harry saw a picture of himself. The booksigning article was on the front page, with him and Lockhart on the front. It looked...awkward. At least he looked good. Harry had skimmed over the trashy article, and found another on the following page, all about him!

FAIRY POTTER?

Rumors have been running rampant this past year about Mr. Potter. Since he has returned to the wizarding world, he was last spotted by our reporters at the Ministry Gala last fall. Then again, yesterday, during Mr. Lockhart's booksigning. However, rumors from Hogwarts are saying that Mr. Potter is a homosexual! While the boy has not actually had a relationship, it is rather clear by his demeanor and the way he dresses leaves...a lot to be desired.

Some of his classmates have come forward to confirm the rumors, wishing to remain anonymous. "Yeah, he's definitely Queer. He's always singing and dancing, and wearing the weirdest clothes! He even paints his nails!" "Yes, Potter is definitely gay. He sang a song last Valentine's Day about a boy!" "I think I saw Harry checking out a guy once, he's definitely gay. I bet he has loads of boyfriends in the muggle world." "It's not proper, him being that way."

While nothing has been confirmed by Mr. Potter himself, the rumors have been circulating for some time. Mr. Potter is entering his second year at Hogwarts. While a bit young to start dating just yet, it does make us wonder if he will go for girls, or boys? Mr. Potter is often accompanied by Miss Hermione Granger, his best friend. The girl is a muggleborn, and one of the top of her class. She accompanied him yesterday at the Lockhart booksigning. She's a rather plain, bookish sort of girl, and it makes you wonder if she is aware of Mr. Potter's predilictions. Is she homosexual as well? Or is she what some call- a Fag Hag?

Only time will tell. Let us hope that Mr. Potter is only going through a phase!

Harry burst into tears at this, cradling his head in his arms.

X-x-x

Harry was wearing a baggy Weird Sisters T-shirt with some short black shorts and some flats, and his huge leather jacket. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he honestly didn't feel like dressing up all that much since that article in the papers had come out. He just knew people would be calling him that at school that coming year. He slipped into the Underground through the back way, smiling as he saw Gia up on stage. He'd only met her once before. Gia was a drag queen, and a total bitch at that. She wouldn't give him the time of day, and that was alright with him. He admired her, in a way, for the balls she must have for being able to dress like that in front of all those people. He couldn't help but wonder if she dressed like that out in the wizarding world, or in the muggle world. He considered what he did was...a little different. He tried to blend in as a 'regular' or 'cute' girl, rather than a flashy one.

He slipped through the crowds, going to backstage.

"Hey Mike." Harry greeted, seeing the owner backstage, watching Gia perform. She liked to impersonate Celestina Warbeck...a very tall, muscular Celestina Warbeck. With a very deep voice. Gia couldn't quite pull off a completely woman-ish look, and it made Harry worry if he would get like that one day. A small part of him wished to stay little forever, so he wouldn't have to grow up that way.

Mike turned a little, frowning. "Hey. Kate's not coming in tonight. She had an interview for a gig at a muggle place. You think you could go on early? Gia doesn't want to go any later."

"Yeah, I can go on early." Harry said quietly, looking at the small mirror on the wall. Mike studied him.

"Hey...you still aren't down about that article, are you?"

"I have to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow, Mike. Everyone's going to be calling me...that. I just know it."

Mike hummed. "...Chin up, kid. It gets better. You know, I know a lot of people out there kinda want to hear your story. I know I do. Since you're going on early tonight, why don't you tell a bit about yourself?"

"...I don't know..."

"It'll be cathartic."

Harry gave him a small smile. He sighed, looking at his reflection. "How much longer has she got?"

"Ten more minutes. You going on like that?"

Harry glanced down. He knew he was a bit more dressed down than usual when he performed. He flicked his wand, shrinking his t-shirt a bit. "Better?"

"Much better. Alright kid, I say stick to the lower key slow songs tonight. Maybe everyone just needs some romantic stuff, yeah?"

"...Yeah, I don't think I have the energy for some of the usual stuff I do." Harry said with a grin.

Gia finished her set, striding off stage dramatically, skirts swishing as she passed Harry without a word. Harry rolled his eyes at this, and went on stage. People cheered for him as he came out.

He gave a little wave. "Hey guys. I'm gonna take things slow tonight, hope you don't mind. Gotta get back to Hogwarts first thing in the morning, I don't want to sleep on the whole ride over."

There was some scattered laughter at this. Harry pulled up the stool that Kate often used during her act, setting it up next to the microphone. He sat down, smiling a little.

"If you all don't know me, I'm Harry Potter. You may have seen my pictures lately in the paper...about what they've been saying about me."

Harry adjusted the mike, giving a small smile. "To be completely honest, I have no bloody idea if I like girls or guys better. Love is love, to me. I figure that if I like somebody, I like them. It doesn't matter what gender they are." There was some clapping at this. Harry's lips twitched a little.

"The thing is, most people don't see it that way. They look at sex and gender as such a black and white thing. To them, you can only be a boy or a girl, you can only be gay or straight. Well...for people like me, who seem to be in this...perpetually grey area, it's kind of hard."

Harry bit his lip. "...You guys want to know a bit more about me?"

There was some noises of agreement, and some clapping. He could see couples standing together closely, hugging. Some people were whispering. But everyone was paying attention, listening. To him.

"I grew up in the muggle world...the worst sort of muggles, really. That's why I came to the wizarding world for the summer. If I'd stayed there, I'd be locked away, and...well, they weren't very nice people." This was so hard, saying this. "Not all muggles are like that, but they were. I tried so hard to fit in, to do what they wanted, to make them proud of me...but...eventually, I kind of gave up."

He got some understanding nods at this. "When I learned about the magical world, I thought that it might be a chance for me to get away from all of that, for people to accept me for who I am. Unfortunately...I'm famous. For something that I don't even really remember. Every time someone mentions it, all I can think about my parents dying, and who wants to be reminded about that constantly?"

Silence.

"Anyways...for my whole life, I wanted to be a musician, a performer, to inspire others with music. I feel as though many people expect things from me, because of who I am, what my history is. I'm not what they want me to be, so they call me a Fairy! So what if I don't act like everyone else? So what if I'm different? I'm happy dressing this way, acting this way! This is me, being me!"

There was some loud cheers at this, and Harry grinned a little. He stood from the stool with a grin. "Thanks guys. Talking to all of you made me feel a whole lot better. I'm just going to say that this summer has been the best summer hols ever, thanks to you guys! And I will never, ever forget it!"

More cheers at this. Harry grinned. "So, who wants me to play some music?" He yelled, laughing a little at their enthusiasm.

X-x-x

Harry was wearing Hermione's red hoodie over a grey Ramones t-shirt, some tight black trousers, and his red converse. He wore his sunglasses, and he was dragging his things behind him on a trolley. His new black leather guitar case was slung over his shoulder. He grinned as he saw Hermione with her parents.

"Hey!" They hugged each other tightly.

"Hey Fairy!" A boy nearby called out in a mocking voice. People began to glance their way and whispered.

The two friends parted, glaring at the boy, who was already heading for the train. Hermione turned to hug her parents goodbye- Harry shook their hands. Soon, they were getting on the train together, looking for a compartment. More than one group of students refused to sit with them, which was...kind of annoying.

They were looking for an empty compartment when a girl was roughly shoved out of a compartment in front of them. "Hey!" Hermione cried, glaring at the boys who'd shoved the girl. "That wasn't very nice!"

"Shut it, Granger!" One of the boys snarled, shutting the door in her face.

Harry was helping the blonde girl to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm quite alright." The girl said dreamily, and the two looked to her.

"I'm Harry, and this is my friend Hermione." Harry said with a smile, taking in the girl's odd jewelry, and her colorful clothes. He kind of liked her.

"It is very nice to meet you both. I'm Luna Lovegood."

Hermione was about to say something when they realised they were blocking the narrow corridor. They picked up their things, searching for an empty compartment- they, of course, invited Luna to sit with them. They finally found one, too close to Slytherin territory for comfort, but they were tired of dragging their things around.

"You wouldn't happen to be related to the Xenophilius Lovegood that is the Editor of the Quibbler, are you?" Harry asked, putting his things down, putting his feet on Hermione's lap. She rolled her eyes at this, smiling a little. She was digging through her bag for a book to read, while Luna was settling into the seat across from them.

"Yes, He's my Daddy!" Luna said, grey eyes shining. "You read the Quibbler?" Damn, she was just too cute!

"Yup. Started this summer. I know Max, he does the political cartoons."

"Oh yes, Max, he's very clever, isn't he?" Luna said with a smile.

Harry lifted his sunglasses, perching them atop his head, watching the girl's eyes follow the movement. "I like your glasses. They're lovely. I bet they help shield you from the Heliotropes." She said, her voice quite serious. "I have glasses too." She went into her pink crocheted bag, legs swinging. Harry looked her over, taking in the baggy lavender cardigan, the brightly printed floral sundress, the blue and green striped stockings, and the neon yellow converse. She was just so much fun!

She took out the glasses, unfolding them, perching them on the end of her slightly upturned nose. Hermione tried her best to keep from laughing, and Harry grinned. "Those look fantastic!"

"Thank you, I designed them myself. They came with the latest issue of the Quibbler, so that people can do the rune puzzles." She hummed, continuing to dig through her bag. He didn't know why they would have to wear those strange sunglasses in order to do the rune puzzles, but they did look rather...interesting.

The compartment door opened, revealing Hannah and Su, who did a double take as they saw Luna. "Hey, mind if we sit with you?" Hannah asked brightly.

"Sure, the more the merrier." Harry said with a smile. He was glad to see them.

Luna shifted over, allowing the two girls to sit on the bench next to her. Hermione pushed Harry's feet off of her lap, and opened her book. Harry grinned a little at this, and opened up his guitar case. "I got a guitar for my birthday. I've been learning how to play. I'm still really new at it, though."

"Wow, that's so cool." Hannah said excitedly.

Luna tilted her head a little. "Those are very complex runes on the instrument. Did you get the guitar from Diagon Alley's music shop?"

He nodded at this, and began to strum on the guitar a little. "Yeah. So, girls, you still going to be in the choir this year?"

Su looked a little guilty. "Mum and Dad wanted me to concentrate on my schoolwork this year. They said an extracurricular like choir wouldn't help me. They'd rather me join the Charms club." She mumbled, looking down. As a Ravenclaw, with Ravenclaw parents, Su's family was rather strict about grades. He could understand why they'd want her to be in the Charms club.

"Well, you're still welcome to come hang out and sing with me. You've got a good voice, so you shouldn't get out of practice. How about you, Hannah?"

Hannah nodded quickly. "I'm still going to be in the Choir. I was trying to convince Susan to join-" Susan was Hannah's best friend "- but she said no, because she doesn't think she is a good singer."

"Too bad. What about you, Luna, do you like to sing?"

"Yes, but only when I'm alone. Or in the forest." Luna said, opening up her magazine with a hum. "I don't like to sing in front of humans. They tend to cover their ears. Even Daddy."

The others laughed at this, and Luna honestly looked a little perplexed at their reactions. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing..." Harry continued to fiddle with the guitar, practicing a couple of chords. "So, what House do you think you'll get Sorted into?"

"Ravenclaw." The girl said, sounding quite certain.

"Really?" Hermione asked, brows raising.

"Oh yes. I love to learn about the world around me. Daddy and I often go exploring. I want to become a Naturalist, one day. We've done lots of traveling, especcially since Mummy died. Daddy doesn't like to be at home as much anymore." The girl said, never looking up from her magazine.

"I'm sorry, Luna." Hermione whispered.

"Why are you apologizing?" Luna asked, clearly not understanding what Hermione was saying.

"About your Mum. When did she die?" Hermione asked delicately. Harry sighed at this- there was no delicate way of talking about someone's death. He would know.

"Two years ago, when I was nine. She liked to create spells, and it went rather badly one day. I saw it happen. Nearly burned down the house, but Daddy let me choose all the colors and things when we rebuilt it."

Hermione looked horrified at this, covering her mouth a little. Both Hannah and Su were looking at Luna with wide eyes, clearly not understanding why the girl could be so calm when talking about such things. Harry understood. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"Hey Luna, you know muggle music?"

At the girl's shake of her head, Harry began to sing 'On the Sunny Side of the Street'. The other girls began to smile a little, bobbing their heads to the music. Luna's rosy lips curled into a slow smile, lifting her head up from her magazine, watching him sing.

Suddenly, the compartment door opened, revealing Ginny Weasley. She blushed at the looks she was getting from everyone. "...Sorry. I-I was just looking for a place to sit. R-Ron wouldn't let me sit with him, so..."

"Of course, there's plenty of room." Hermione said, moving over to sit closer to Harry, allowing Ginny to sit on her other side.

"Hullo Ginny!" Luna said brightly.

Ginny gave a shy smile to Luna. "Hey Luna. It's been a while. When did you guys get back from Germany?"

"A few weeks ago."

"You guys know each other?" Hermione asked with a smile.

Luna lifted her glasses, putting them in her hair, nodding a little. "Oh yes, Ginny and I are neighbors!"

"That's great- at least you guys know each other. Are you excited about your first year, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded shyly. "Yeah."

Everyone made small talk for a little while longer, and then the compartment door opened once more, revealing Malfoy, with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. Harry's smile fell instantly, and everyone else tensed, except for Luna, who Harry felt as though she couldn't be bothered by anything.

"Well, well, well, isn't it Fairy Potter and his gang of Fag-Hags." The blonde drawled, slipping his hands into his pockets. His lip curled, shaking his head. "How pitiful. I would have expected better from you, Li, for hanging around with this riffraff." The girl flushed, ducking her head a little. Su came from a really wealthy Japanese pureblood family

"Halfbloods-" Both Harry and Hannah scowled at this. "Mudbloods-" Hermione's eyes narrowed angrily. "Blood-traitor paupers-" Ginny grit her teeth at this. "And silly little girls that should be taken away from their Mad fathers-"

Harry jerked back as Luna suddenly took out her wand- silvery eyes blazing. "I might just be a first year, Malfoy, but I know lots of spells. My Mummy taught me. Don't say anything bad about my Daddy. Take it back." She said her voice light and airy, but her expression was firm.

Malfoy actually looked kind of scared at this. "...Sorry Lovegood."

The girl smiled brightly at this, tucking the wand behind her ear. "Lovely. Now, who are these gentlemen with you?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance at this, and Malfoy spoke. "You're a nutter!" He said, taking a couple of steps backwards, still looking nervous. "Crabbe, Goyle, we're leaving."

And they left, not even looking twice at Harry. Everyone looked towards Luna, who was picking up her magazine again with a small smile, looking completely calm.

"Why was Malfoy scared of your Mum?" Hermione asked, and Ginny gave her a warning look.

Luna spoke, never looking up from her magazine. "My Mummy was quite the talented enchantress and spell-maker. Some say she was quite Dark, but that is no surprise, considering she was Lucius Malfoy's half-sister. Draco likes to pretend we aren't related."

Everyone kind of stared at her for a long moment.

"I like you." Harry said with a nod and grin. "You can hang around us anytime, Luna."

Luna looked very happy at this.

x-x-x

Harry was totally rocking out to a band called No Doubt while he was unpacking his things. His roommates were kind of bobbing their heads along to the music, but they were all kind of avoiding looking at him. No Doubt was an American band that just put out their first album earlier that year, from Interscope Records. They had a really fun sound, really different from the grunge stuff that was really popular. Unfortunately, the album hadn't sold very well because of this, meaning Harry got the record on the cheap. But he really liked their sound, and he figured they'd probably be big in a couple of years if they kept it up.

Now, Harry kind of liked some of the grunge bands, but his life was depressing enough as it was. He loved the lyrics of some of the songs, but he just needed happy music to get him through the day. Like today. So many of his classmates had avoided looking at him, speaking to him. The ones who didn't called him names...it was a really big contrast to what it had been like the previous year.

Still, Harry was trying to make the most of it, getting hyped up for a new semester at Hogwarts. He knew things would get good once he managed to visit the music room. Maybe he'd go tomorrow, after class.

He paused in his packing as he saw Dean and Seamus putting up one of the sheets, hanging it with string and sticking charms, splitting off part of the room. Ron quickly followed their example, recruiting Seamus' help in putting up another sheet. Harry watched them, feeling kind of hurt and flabbergasted that they would go at such lengths..he glanced to Neville, who was folding up some socks, kind of glancing his way, blushing a little. He made no move to follow them.

They heard whispering from behind the curtain- the guys were obviously trying to figure out what to say to Harry. Harry rolled his eyes at this, and stopped the record player. He put the record away carefully with the others. Harry pulled his hair back into a messy bun, searching through his trunk for some pajamas to wear.

Seamus, Dean, and Ron came out from behind the curtains, looking a little nervous, but determined.

"Potter, we don't want you snooping on us. You stay on your side of the room, we'll stay on our side."

"Fine. S'not like I want to check you guys out anyways." Harry said irritably. "I only like mature people." He grabbed his things, flipping them off before he retreated to the loo to dress. He locked himself in one of the stalls, trying to calm himself down. He undressed quickly, hands shaking, pulling on loose black silk drawstring pajama pants, with a snug t-shirt. He carried his school clothes with him as he headed back into the dorm room.

The guys had turned out the lights, and Harry sighed as he headed towards his bed. He dropped his clothes on top of his trunk, and climbed into bed, only to make a noise of surprise as someone was already in it! A hand covered his mouth, and a wand was lit, revealing Neville.

He made a shushing motion, and lowered his hand from Harry's mouth. Harry closed the bed curtains quickly, wondering what Neville was up to. He raised a silencing spell around his bed (it was a bit above their grade level, not that it really mattered to him). "Neville, what's going on?" Harry said, furrowing his brows.

"Can you sing for me?" Neville blurted, and blushed at Harry's look. "I mean, over the summer, I had a lot of trouble sleeping. I guess I got used to you singing at night...it helped me, sometimes. I have bad nightmares, you see, and..." Neville covered his face, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I-I-"

"I understand." Harry said with a small smile. "...Guess you're homesick?"

Neville snorted at this. "Gran would never sing me to sleep. She's not the sort."

"What about your Mum? Dad?"

Neville shook his head. "They're...gone." He said awkwardly, his voice muffled.

"Oh. Well...I'd be happy to sing you to sleep." Harry said with a smile. "I know I wish someone would have done that for me, when I was little."

"...Thanks." Neville said, looking a little relieved. "...'Cos tomorrow is the first day of classes, and well, I don't want to bollux things up even more than I already do."

They went over to Neville's bed, and Harry raised the silencing spells over there too. Harry tucked him in with a playful grin, sitting at the end of Neville's bed. "What would you like me to sing?" Harry asked quietly, draping the blankets over Neville.

"...Something slow. Dunno." Neville said, curling up on his side, sighing a little.

Harry grinned a little. He began to sing a soft, slow song- 'Stay Awake' from Mary Poppins, a'la Julie Andrews. He watched Neville's breathing deepen as he slowly fell asleep. Harry leant over, smiling a little as he saw that his roommate was asleep. He saw some of the boy's dark curls were ruffled up slightly. He reached over, smoothing them down, and slipped out of the bed silently.

He let out a small sigh as he curled up in his own bed, feeling much calmer than he had earlier that evening. He thought about Hermione, Su, Ginny, and Hannah, about Luna, and about Neville. Harry sleepily wondered what had happened to Neville's parents, thoughts drifting to his classes for the following day. He couldn't wait to get to the music room.

x-x-x

The next morning, Harry hummed as he worked on his hair. Around him, his roommates were brushing their teeth and hair, rolling their eyes as they watched him braid his hair back into a loose plait, his loose bangs and curls framing his face rather cutely. He leant in close to the mirror, adding a touch of eyeliner to his eyes, using his fingertip to smudge it a little. He saw Neville watching him out of the corner of his eye, and he smiled at his reflection.

He adjusted his clothes, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, adding his black band bracelets and some of his mother's baubles. He looked in the mirror, mussing up his bangs a little, adjusting the collar of his shirt. Hmm. Maybe he could make a choker or something. He didn't have any necklaces either.

He left the loo, slipping into his black leather boots, tucking his snug trousers into them. He checked the full length mirror, grabbing his bag, hooking it over his chest. Yeah, he looked awesome. He grabbed his sunglasses with a smirk, perching them atop his head, and headed down the stairs.

More than one student glanced his way as Harry entered the common room. Hermione was waiting for him with a smile, smile widening as she saw him. "Cute. C'mon, let's get to breakfast."

"Thanks." Harry said, winding her arm in his, dropping his sunglasses over his eyes.

"We're inside, idiot." She said, rolling her eyes as they walked into the corridor.

"At least it's daytime." Harry replied with a laugh. "I want to make a good entrance into the Great Hall."

"Well, we certainly will make an entrance." Hermione said with a little laugh. "But don't expect to get to wear those during class. McGonagall, and definitely Snape, would try to take them away from you."

"True." Harry groaned. "Alright, I'll just wear them when we're outside."

"Thank you!"

x-x-x

Harry was singing Nina Simone's Look of Love, playing softly on the piano. He'd come straight to the music room after classes were over, and he'd been there for a few hours already.

"You skipped dinner."

Harry jolted, turning in his seat, seeing Professor Snape lingering about the doorway. How long had he been there? God, that man walked quietly.

"...Lost track of time, I guess."

Snape moved to sit next to him on the bench, joining Harry in playing. Harry gave him a small smile as they began to play together. "...So, how were your holidays?" The man asked as they began to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

"Good, actually." Harry said with a small smile.

Snape glanced his way, raising an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you didn't stay with your guardians, then."

"...No, I didn't." Harry said quietly. They continued to play for a little while longer, both lost in their own thoughts. Their shoulders brushed, and Harry spoke quietly. "You've been practicing."

Snape gave him a little smirk. "I may have."

Harry grinned at him, and the two continued to play.

"May I ask where you spent your holidays, then? If you were not with your guardians?"

"...I rented out a flat." Harry sighed. "It was kind of great, actually. I could come and go whenever I liked, and no one yelled at me. I had lots of fun, and I learned a lot."

"...I do hope you completed your summer assignments?"

Harry laughed softly at this. "Yeah. That, and more. I got some help from some neighbors of mine- both hippies, but kind of brilliant at herbology and transfiguration."

The man's brows raised. "I hope you didn't smoke anything they gave you."

Harry laughed again, and Snape's lips twitched. They continued to play for a little longer, and the man spoke quietly. "...How are you doing? After last term?"

Harry made a distressed noise. "Still have nightmares, but I've always had those. Usually I just stay up to the point of exhaustion, listen to music, and then I go to sleep. It helps...some. I've started a journal." Harry started awkwardly. "I mostly end up writing lyrics, but eh, it helps me sort out my thoughts."

"Always a good thing. If...you ever want to talk about it, I...know what you are going through."

Harry banged down on the keys a little harder than he would have liked. "What do you know about killing someone?" He said crossly.

"...There was a war going on, if you remember, before you were born. I was...a Deatheater."

Harry lifted his hands from the keyboard, staring at his Professor with wide eyes. He'd heard rumors, but...really?

Snape continued to play, not looking him in the eye. "I was young, and stupid. I honestly thought the Dark Lord would be able to change things for the better. If you haven't realised by now, the Ministry of Magic is very inept. Anyways...he appreciated my talents, and at the time, not many did." The man let out a sigh. "After I realised how mad he was, I turned spy. Unfortunately, I had to kill men...on both sides, in order to prove my allegiance."

"...I'm sorry." Harry said quietly.

The man continued to play, long fingers pressing the keys gently and fluidly. "When he went after your Mother, that was the last straw. He is going to come back. You do realise that, don't you?"

"Yes." Harry whispered, looking away. He put his hands in his lap, and his eyes began to burn a little. "And he's going to come after me. I guess he sees me as some...big failure of his."

"He sees you as a threat."

Harry turned to his Professor with wide eyes. "What?" He croaked. "But I'm just a kid."

Snape let out a soft sigh. "...There is a prophecy. I won't tell you the wording, but it basically says that you are his equal, and that you have the power to defeat him."

"Oh."

"...You do realise that you are magically gifted, don't you?"

Harry flushed. "Yeah. Hermione says so all the time. She gets jealous 'cos I can do wandless magic and stuff without hardly trying. It's not a big deal." He mumbled.

"...I can help you." Snape said quietly. "Prepare for him, when he comes. He will not care if you are just a child. All the training in the world cannot prepare you completely, but...there is just something about you that makes you different from anyone else I've ever met."

Harry let out a ringing laugh, and his Professor's hands left the keys. The man turned towards him, looking completely serious. "I'm serious, Harry."

Harry's smile faded as he looked up at the man. "...I don't want to be a hero. I just want to make music. I can't give that up. But... I still want to help people."

"You can do both. If anyone can do it, you can."

Harry hugged the man tightly about his waist, burying his head into his chest. Severus let out a soft sigh, hugging him back gently, putting his hand on the back of Harry's head. His long fingers twined into the boy's soft curls, holding him close. It felt so nice, so good, so safe. Harry never wanted it to end.

"...When I was little...I was so willing to do whatever I could to be accepted, to fit in, to be loved." Harry whispered, his voice a little muffled by the man's robes. "Things would be so much easier if I still was like that. I'd gladly give up everything just to make everyone happy, make my friends happy, for everyone to like me. But I just...can't do that anymore. That's not living. I don't want to be turned into some macho hero. If I'm going to save this bloody world, I'm gonna do it my way."

Severus' lips twitched a little at this, holding the boy closer. "I know. And I'll do what I can to help you. You won't have to do this alone."

Harry pulled away, looking into the Professor's eyes. "...For my Mum, right? You really loved her, didn't you?"

Severus' breath hitched. "Oh child...not just for her. For you too." He ruffled Harry's hair. "Come, let's get you to the dorm before curfew, hmm?"

"...Kay." Harry sighed, leaning into his Professor's gentle hands. This was nice. Was this what like having a Dad was like? No...not quite. This was different. "...I missed you." He murmured, hugging the Professor again. "I missed your snarky comments and you hovering behind me while I played the piano." He heard Snape chuckle, the vibrations in his chest deep- Harry smiled a little, pressing his ear up against the man's chest. "...Do you sing?"

"...I've never really tried."

"You should. I bet you'd have a great singing voice."

The man chuckled again. "I'm a little old for such things, Harry."

"You're never too old to make music." Harry said with a smile, pulling away. "C'mon-"

"No. We should really get going."

Harry stuck out his tongue at the Professor maturely, and the two started to pack up Harry's things.

X-x-x

Lockhart was an fop, and an idiot. It didn't take long for Harry to figure out the guy had no idea what he was doing. Even Hermione, despite her little crush, could see that. Classes were going pretty well, that first week. Harry actually put more effort into his studies, and he was kind of surprised at how a little bit more effort into his work went a long way. Even his teachers were noticing, that first week. Of course, Hermione being the competitive person she was, pushed herself a bit more so she could catch up. It was kind of fun, seeing her so flustered.

That first week, he also met one Colin Creevey, a first year Gryffindor who loved to take photos, especcially of Harry. And he didn't care what people said about Harry, he thought he was cool. Harry was kind of flattered, and showed the boy some of his old muggle art and photography books. Honestly, he thought the moving pictures that were often in the newspapers were okay, but there could be so much more to them. So he gave the kid some ideas for other projects, and told him of some good places in the castle where he could set up a makeshift darkroom. He also said that it would be a good idea to do some still shots, so he could show some of his work in the muggle world too. And without that stupid annoying flash bulb- it would be better to use natural light anyways. Any 'magical' things could be explained off as special affects. Colin was very enthusiastic, and wanted to do a photo shoot with Harry as his first model, once they got settled in with the new term.

Harry walked into the Music room that first Friday evening, looking forward to seeing who would try out. He was kind of surprised to see almost everyone already there, and they were clearly waiting for him.

"Hey...where is Flitwick?" Harry asked, unhooking his bookbag from his shoulder.

"I wouldn't put that down. You're not welcome here." One of the older girls said, putting her arms across her chest.

"What!" Harry cried.

"...We don't want to sing with you anymore. Everyone's calling us your fag-hags, and we're not even friends!" Another girl exclaimed.

That...hurt. The girls had been so nice to him last year, thinking he'd been all cute and dreamy and all. Of course, they sometimes teased him too. Harry glanced to the others, and saw most of them were avoiding his gaze. He noticed Hannah wasn't around.

"Where's Hannah?"

"She quit. Said she was going to join the Charms club." One of the other girls waved it off.

Harry's hands clenched. She'd said nothing of the sort to him, and he had a feeling that it had something to do with all of...this. "I bet Professor Flitwick would have something to say about this-" Harry said, feeling angry, sad, and a million other things all at once.

"Then we'll all quit. If you don't, we will. We don't want to sing with a fag."

Harry's jaw dropped. He took a step back, eyes widening. "But...last year..."

"Last year, you were just a cute little first year. It's different now. Everyone knows what you are, Fag." Another girl said meanly.

"Anyways, we only want girls in the group. This is a choir, not 'Harry and the girls'. We're not your backup singers!"

Harry grit his teeth at this. Now the truth really came out. "Fine." He put his backpack back on. "Fine." He turned on his heel, and walked out of the music room, heart breaking.

X-x-x

Harry was sobbing, face buried in his arms as he cried. He was curled up underneath Snape's desk. He'd been looking for his Professor, but hadn't been able to find the man anywhere. So he figured Snape would eventually come back to his office.

This year officially sucked, and he wished that he'd listened to that House Elf and had stayed away. He sniffled, wiping at his face, wondering how it could get any worse.

He heard Snape's office door open, and was about to pop his head out when he heard Snape speaking quietly.

"Minerva, are you certain?"

"I am. The Headmaster insists that Mr. Potter remain with his relatives, despite everything we've done to get him Emancipated. Even adoption is out of the question!"

Harry's eyes widened at this, and he scooted backwards into the desk, hiding in the shadows. Snape moved to sit behind his desk, his feet and legs close to where Harry was hiding.

"I just don't understand it. Even with the protections that Lily's blood allows, there is no excuse for a child being abused. Mr. Potter has been through too much already, and I won't sit idly by and allow this to continue any further."

"...You really do care for him, don't you?" McGonagall asked quietly.

Harry held his breath for some reason, his heart beating just a little faster. His face grew warm, and there was this feeling deep inside him- Snape was quiet for a long time, his legs shifting a little.

"...Yes." Snape admitted quietly. "The child has certainly grown on me."

"...Like a Son?" McGonagall asked, her voice a little funny.

"Or a daughter." Snape murmured. Harry's eyes widened at this, mouth parting. He was...happy at his words, deliriously happy, to the point if he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Hadn't he been crying all afternoon? "I don't know. All I know is that Potter is important to me, and I won't fail him, not when he needs me." Harry covered his face again, trying to stifle his tears, but they fell down his cheeks freely. A sob escaped his mouth, and Snape was moving backwards from his desk, peering down.

"Mr. Potter!" Snape barked, eyes wide, his face flushed. "How long have you been there?"

"Hours." Harry whispered, leaning forward, clutching his legs, putting his head on Snape's knee. "The girls kicked me out of the choir-I-I- couldn't f-find you, and I-I- I l-wanted to talk to you-a-and I-I love you!" He sobbed.

McGonagall quietly left the room, giving them their privacy. Snape bent down a little, picking him up, putting Harry in his lap. Harry curled up in the man's lap, burying his face in Snape's shoulder, crying quietly. Snape rocked him gently, making little shushing and cooing noises.

"I love you too, brat." Snape whispered in his ear. No, Severus. This was Severus now, gentle Severus, his protector, his everything. Not stern Professor Snape, who made everyone's lives miserable. This was the man that gave him baubles and watched him play on the piano almost every night if they were able to. God, he really loved this man. Harry was leaning in, kissing the edge of Severus' jaw, and Severus was leaning in a little more, peering down at him, his expression unreadable.

Harry reached up, sliding his fingers over Severus' cheek, feeling the light stubble there. His eyes fell to Severus' mouth. They both held their breaths for a long moment, and Harry was leaning forward, kissing him gently on the corner of his mouth. Severus was closing his eyes slowly. Harry wrapped his arms about Severus' neck, burying his face in tightly, breathing in his scent, his warmth.

He loved this man, more than anything. Well...it was a tie between him and music. Severus stroked his hair gently, letting out a soft sigh. "Now, tell me about what happened with the choir." Severus said quietly.

Harry's lip trembled, and he pulled away a little, looking into Severus' eyes. "The girls...they said that they didn't want to sing with me anymore. Th-They called m-me a-a..." His voice dropped. "A fag." He felt sad, humiliated. "Almost everyone else in this school has called me that, at some point or another, except for those girls, and I just...what am I gonna do now?" He asked, tears running down his cheeks.

Severus gave him an understanding look, still stroking his hair. "You will still sing, you will still play the piano. Those girls made a big mistake, pet, don't you worry about them. That's their problem, not yours. Most people fear what they don't understand, and some people just..." The man trailed off, sounding a little uncertain.

"They don't get me." Harry said in a small voice, looking down. "I'd always understood that. But I had hoped...because we had something in common..."

"I know, sweetheart. It hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

"It'll be okay. You'll go on making music, singing, playing the piano. You'll find a way, I know you will." Harry smiled at this, leaning into Severus with a quiet sigh.

"Thank you."

"...Now...to discuss what Minerva and I were speaking about when we came into my office." Harry's smile dropped slightly, and he looked up at the man. "...Albus has been giving us resistance about changing your Guardianship from the Dursleys, despite the evidence that you have not been treated well with them. We've tried nearly everything-"

"No you haven't." Harry whispered, tensing a little. "I-I- could turn them in myself. Then they'd have to do something, right?"

"Harry..."

"and if Dumbledore still says no, I-I'll go to the papers! I may not like my fame, but it might as well be useful for something, right?"

"...If you think you can handle it, Harry." Severus whispered to him, sounding kind of sad.

"...I will. If you're there with me." Harry said with a small smile, hugging him again.

X-x-x

"Where have you been!" Hermione asked as soon as Harry walked into the common room. It was quite late, and the common room was empty and dark. The only light came from the fireplace, the embers low, but warm.

Harry felt lots better after talking with Severus, and was still smiling as he sat down on the sofa by the fire. He leant back with a sigh, closing his eyes. Hermione sat down next to him, frowning. "What happened? I've been looking for you all evening! Surely Choir didn't run that long?"

"...No." Harry said quietly, his smile fading a little, sitting up properly. "The girls kicked me out."

"What?" Hermione gasped, covering her mouth. "You seem...awfully calm about this."

"I went to go talk to Professor Snape." Harry said quietly, knowing he'd have to explain everything. He'd never told her about...any of that stuff, wanting to keep it between him and the Professor, but now he knew he'd have to.

"...Professor Snape?" The girl look at him funny. "Why not Flitwick?"

"Flitwick doesn't know, and I don't want him to know. And...well, I guess Professor Snape and I are...well, sort of friends."

Hermione's brows rose. "Friends?"

Harry gave a small shrug of his shoulder, looking down. "No...maybe more than that. I'm not quite sure what's happening, but...he makes me feel...happy. And safe. Like...maybe he's what a Dad is supposed to be. I dunno."

"Oh Harry." Hermione said with a sad smile, taking Harry's hand. "How long have you two been talking?"

"...A while. Since last Christmas. He...he was friends with my Mum, did you know?"

Hermione shook her head at this. Harry pointed to a couple of the baubles on his fingers. "These used to be hers. He gave them to me. He also said that she had played the piano too, and she'd taught him how to play."

"Oh wow...so that's where you get it from!"

"Yup! Oh, he's so nice, Hermione, very different from when we're in class. He's...nicer, somehow. I don't know how to explain it, exactly, but I feel...good, with him. Like...everything's going to be okay." Harry hugged himself at this, smiling a little. "We talked. About lots of things, really. He's...trying to get me free of the Dursleys, both him and McGonagall." Hermione's eyes widened at this. "...Dumbledore's giving them trouble though, so I might have to do something about it."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "...You're going to tell everyone?" She whispered.

"I might have to. I mean...Severus brought up tonight that I'm far from the only student that's been mistreated, and I'm not the first that hasn't been able to get away. I-I figure I may as well as use my fame for something and try to...I dunno...what's the word..."

"Create awareness." Hermione said breathlessly, her mind whirling. "...Harry...I am behind you 100%. If...if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

"I know." Harry grinned, hugging his friend. "Thanks for waiting up for me."

"You're welcome. So...tell me more about you and the Professor?" Hermione said with a grin, still curled up with Harry on the sofa.

X-x-x

Harry decided to dress a little 'down', and be more professional when Severus took him to the DMLE to report the Durselys. He was wearing a plain black button-down shirt, and some trousers, his hair pulled back into a neat plait. He was scared, nervous, and a part of him really didn't want to do this at all, but what he wanted more than anything right now was to not have to worry about the Durselys making him come back, or the Headmaster forcing him back.

He wanted his summers to be peaceful and calm, to have the freedom to do as he wished. Because it was clear he was not going to get that at Hogwarts. It was an early Sunday morning, when he and Severus knew that the whole school was practically asleep. No one would miss them.

Several Aurors took note of them entering the office, straightening up at their desks. A couple were still fast asleep, while others were concentrating on reading their papers and things. An older woman stood off to the side, pouring herself a cup of coffee, looking rather tired.

Severus led Harry over to her- she held herself importantly, somehow, so maybe she'd be the best person to talk to. Anyways, Harry thought he'd be more comfortable talking to her than to these macho guys that may have read about him in the papers and things.

Snape cleared his throat, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Madam Bones, may we speak to you in your office?" He asked, and the woman turned tiredly, stirring some sugar into her coffee. She blinked, realising who they were, and straightened up a little where she stood. Now that Harry had a good look at her, her shortly cropped grey hair and monocle made her look sort of regal, but tough.

"Oh, of course! Come right this way, gentlemen."

She led them towards her office, which was a far cry from the crowded cubicles and desks that they had passed. Her office was very neat and tidy, though her desk was full of paperwork. Harry spotted a picture of Susan- why, this must be Susan's Auntie that she'd talked about. Harry relaxed a little, sitting in the seat that Madam Bones had motioned for him to sit in.

Severus preferred to stand by the door, arms crossed. Madam Bones sat at her desk, winding her fingers together, looking him right in the eye. "So, how may I help you, Mr. Potter?" She asked briskly- he was sort of reminded of McGonagall, a little.

"...I wanted to make a report." Harry whispered, his nerves bundling up inside his stomach. He kind of wanted to throw up. He looked down at his knees. "My Guardians...the Durselys, they hurt me."

"...I see."

Madam Bones was pulling out a pad of paper now, and a fountain pen, all business, her face and voice unreadable. She was glancing towards Severus, and then back to Harry. "I know that this is very hard for you, Mr. Potter, coming forward like this. Take your time- as you could probably tell outside, it's a slow morning."

"...Okay." Harry exhaled slowly, raising his eyes to meet her own. "...I guess I'll start from the beginning, then." He hestiated. "I don't really remember all that much before I came to the Durselys, except for the night my parents died. I...uh, I don't really have any happy memories of them. Um, one of my first memories of the Dursleys is being in my cupboard."

Harry's hands wormed their way underneath his thighs, to keep her from seeing how much they were shaking. "My...my cupboard was my bedroom, of sorts. It used to be where all the cleaning supplies were kept, but Aunt Petunia moved them when I started getting sick from the fumes." He swallowed thickly. "Um, there were three locks on the door." He hesitated. "I learned fairly early on how to unlock them magically at night, when everyone else was asleep, so I would...be able to sneak out." He said with a little grin.

He looked back down at his lap, not noticing the shocked look in Madam Bones' eyes. "But...um, the Dursleys pretty much called me every name you could think of. They usually called me a freak. Or a fag. Probably because...well, I did strange things, like accidentally turning my teacher's hair blue, or unleashing an anaconda at my cousin at the zoo...er..." Harry squirmed in his seat. Those may not have been accidents.

"Anyways, my Aunt had me cooking when I was about four- I learned how to read, reading her cookbooks and things. She didn't teach me or anything, she just had me do it. I was hit anytime I burned anything, or made a mistake. I was hit for speaking out of turn. Hit for asking questions. Hit for simply being in the way."

Harry's tears began to fall, and there was no hiding the way his body shook. "I often had to stay home from school, because there would be times my Aunt would want me to do some project at the house she didn't want to do. They didn't give me any clothes, toys, or anything like that- I made do with what I found. I wore hand-me-downs from my Cousin, who was much bigger than me, so I learned how to sew and mend clothes." Harry shrugged. "The leftover scraps I was allowed to eat usually tasted like crap, but it was better than nothing, and I found other ways of getting food." Harry went on, describing things that he'd long forgotten, things that had seemed so trivial at the time, but it was all coming out now.

Harry paused. "If I didn't have my magic, I probably would have died a long time ago." He admitted quietly, keeping his gaze lowered. "If not for healing my injuries, but just being able to get out of that bloody house each night to scrounge around for food and things. I usually snuck out to the school, so I could read, and play their piano in the music room there. I know I wasn't supposed to do things like that, but I would have gone crazy, if I hadn't been able to."

"...It's understandable. Everyone has to have a hobby or something to keep their mind off of things. I like to paint, myself." Madam Bones said quietly, still writing. "I'm not very good at it, but it is simply something to do so I don't have to think about other things. It sounds like you have had a very hard life, Harry. I must ask, but did any of your relatives ever touch you inappropriately?" The woman asked delicately.

Harry shuddered. "Ew! No." He scowled at this, feeling a little sick, thankful nothing like that had happened.

"Sorry- like I said, I had to ask. Have you told anyone about your treatment before?"

Harry looked down at his lap. "I tried to tell a teacher, once, in primary school. She was always really nice to me. Not long after I told her though, she was transferred to another district. My...Uncle was friends with the Principal."

"...I see. Have you told anyone at Hogwarts?"

Harry looked over to Severus, who was stepping forward. "While I did not know all of the details, I was able to glean what I could from what he said. It was very clear that Mr. Potter has not had a very good home life. Minerva McGonagall and I have been working since last year, trying to get Mr. Potter Emancipated through your Children's Services department, but they are not being...cooperative."

Severus sat in the other chair beside Harry. "We suspect that the Headmaster is pulling the strings there- he does not want Harry to be placed anywhere else, for his protection."

Harry scowled. "But I'm not safe with the Dursleys anyways."

"...Yes. I can see that. So, Harry, do you wish to be adopted? Or Emancipated? What would you want for the future?"

Harry looked down at his lap again. "...Well, the thing about being adopted is that...I don't want another set of parents. I had my Mum and my Dad, and they're dead now. And I don't want someone to adopt me just because I'm famous or whatever. I'm used to being on my own, and...well, I guess Emancipation might be better."

Harry hesitated, glancing towards Severus. "But if anyone had to adopt me, I-I'd want Professor Snape." He said quietly.

Severus looked at him with wide eyes, mouth parting a little.

"And why is that, Mr. Potter?" Madam Bones asked, studying the two of them.

"...He makes me feel safe. And he teaches me a lot of things. And...I know he'll take good care of me. Sometimes...I guess I do need someone to keep me in line, 'cos I, um, tend to break the rules a bit." Harry grinned a little, his cheeks flushing. "But Severus was really good friends with my Mum, and we talk for hours about her, classes, and about music- he never forces me to do anything I don't want to do, and...well..." Harry looked over to him. "I care about him. I know that if he got hurt, I'd be sad. That's the only reason I'm hesitant about him having to adopt me, 'cos I know that could put him in danger too."

"...I see." Madam Bones was setting her notepad aside, and her pen, and looked to both him and Severus. "Professor Snape, may I speak to you privately?"

"Of course." The man said quickly.

Madam Bones looked to Harry with a small smile. "Harry, you may step outside for just a moment. There's donuts and things- help yourself."

Harry grinned, and stepped out of the office.

Madam Bones looked to Severus, looking at him over her monocle. "...Severus, I know you well. You wouldn't bring him to me unless it was absolutely required. Did Albus really block the proceedings?"

"Yes. We've tried everything, even going to the muggle policemen."

"...Albus holds a lot of weight, here at the Ministry. If I do this, it may cost me my job." Madam Bones said with a quiet sigh, leaning back in her seat. "Any other ideas?"

"...Harry suggested that he can go to the papers. He's willing to go that far." Severus said quietly.

"...I will start the proceedings, then. If they are blocked, I will...accidentally leave some papers out where Rita Skeeter can get her claws into them. With public opinion likely to back the boy, there is no way Mr. Potter will still be stuck with his Guardians. We will be able to push through Albus' block in the proceedings, and hopefully the lad will be free of them."

She leant forward in her seat, looking intently at Severus. "Would you be willing to adopt Harry, if it was required of you?"

Severus' breath hitched. For so long, he thought he'd never have a child of his own. He looked down. Harry was not quite a child, though. He was more like... someone he could teach and mentor, but most of all, Harry was...a companion. He was certain that he loved Harry, but he just wasn't sure in...which way.

Madam Bones seemed to sense his reluctance. "Can you suggest anyone else that would be willing to adopt him? That you know would look after him and give him the space he needs?"

Severus exhaled slowly. "There are plenty of people that would be willing to adopt him, but I don't think they'd be right for Harry. I think his best option is Emancipation, but if it came down to it, I would be willing to adopt him. Our...relationship isn't really quite like a Father and son relationship. I teach him, yes, I talk to him about every day things. Sometimes we'll sit at the piano together for hours, and simply play. It's...hard to explain, I suppose. I do care for him a great deal, but I suppose the best way of describing Harry is...well, a companion. If I adopted him, our relationship would change, and I don't want to lose what we have."

"...Understandable." Madam Bones said quietly, studying Severus intently. "...Is...he affectionate with you?"

Severus held himself very stiffly. "...He is affectionate with the friends that he trusts, yes. The only times his relatives ever touched him was to hurt him- so yes, he is...affectionate. But if you are implying..."

Madam Bones tilted her head.

"I have not...taken advantage of him, Madam." Severus said, his voice sharp. "I would never hurt him."

"I know you won't." Madam Bones said, lifting her chin a little, giving him a long look. "You're a good man, Severus. We did quite a bit during the war together, and I know you aren't the sort. Just be...careful. Understand?"

Severus did not reply, only turning his head away. He felt angry that Madam Bones would think he could ever hurt Harry in such a way.

"...On a different topic, my Susan tells me that Mr. Potter has been having some issues at the school."

Severus let out a soft sigh. "Not with his classwork and things, no. He's actually a very good student, when he puts some effort in. It's the other students. You know how they can be. Anything that is strange or different is ridiculed, taunted, teased. Harry is strong, he'll get through it. It's just...hard on him."

"...Understandable. If this information comes out to the papers, though, I fear this information will simply give them fodder. Do you think he'll be able to handle it?"

"...He will have to, if that means he can be free of the muggles."

x-x-x

It happened two days before Halloween. On the front page of the papers was a picture of himself from the previous year, when he'd sung with the Choir at the Ministry. Above it was- "Harry Potter, The Boy Who was Abused?"

Harry read the article silently, his hands shaking. Rita Skeeter hadn't needed to embellish the story- every word was true. In the article, it was explained that several 'concerned anonymous people' had come forward, asking that Harry be removed from his Guardians for his safety, but certain people did not want Harry removed for whatever reason. Skeeter mentioned that she hoped that Harry would be removed and put into a home with a loving family, like he should have been all this time. The Great Hall was strangely quiet, then the whispers began all around him. No one dared asked any questions or anything- Hermione sat at his side, reading over his shoulder, squeezing his knee underneath the table.

Finally, Neville was leaning across the table, his eyes wide. "Harry...is it true?" He asked, his voice wavering- he looked like he was about to cry for some reason. Harry only nodded, closing the newspaper with a sigh. He stood, grabbing his bag, and Hermione grabbed her bag too. No one dared say anything to him, the Great Hall still quiet.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at the staff table, and saw a very pale looking Dumbledore, his expression unreadable. Their eyes met, for just a moment, and Harry knew that Dumbledore was not happy. Not happy at all. And he knew what Harry had done.

Harry turned away, his gut churning, taking Hermione's hand as they walked out of the Great Hall. During classes that day, no one really said anything to him, but they were aware of their stares and whispering. The teachers didn't say anything either, but Harry could tell that they were concerned.

Finally, as Harry was walking to dinner with Hermione, someone approached him about it. A Slytherin girl, one he'd never really talked to before. "Potter." She began, standing in front of him, blocking his path to the Great Hall. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and she looked...tense. What was her name again? Bulstrode?

"Uh...yes?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"...What the papers are saying, they're true?"

Harry gave a small nod. "Every word."

The girl frowned, looking down to the ground. "...Just wanted to let you know...you aren't the only one." And then she turned away quickly before they could say a word, and walked off.

Harry and Hermione looked towards one another with wide eyes, and Hermione squeezed his arm. "...See?" She whispered. "I bet there's lots of people out there that are afraid to speak up, and...well, you could help them somehow."

Harry exhaled slowly, feeling some of the tension drain away from his shoulders. "Yeah. I could."

"...I figure any teasing you go through because of this, it's worth it, because you can help other people." Hermione whispered to him. "Stay strong, Harry. I'll be right here, okay?"

"Okay."

The two continued to walk towards the Great Hall. Harry knew that his classmates wouldn't be keeping their silence for very much longer, and he feared that he would be bombarded with questions and things that he wasn't sure he could answer.

He and Hermione entered the Great Hall together, and the buzz that had been going about suddenly went quiet, and Harry could see everyone looking their way. Hermione hugged his arm, the two of them walking together to the Gryffindor table.

X-x-x

An update and revision. Clearly not finished. Thanks for reading, guys.