Hufflepuff

Seventh Year

Standard

Word Count: 960

Prompt: [Color] Violet; [Object] Stuffed animal

Additional Requirement: [House Trait] Loyalty

MC4A Bonus Challenges: Esbat; Second Verse: (Not a Lamp; Mouth of Babes; Hot Apple)

Harry is of Indian descent in this story just because.

Warning: Story is fluffy and idealistic.

~o0o~

"Harry? Why are you hiding? You should be on your way home by now."

Harry shook his head vigorously and shrank further against the wall, away from his third year teacher, Ms. Harish. It was Friday which meant he was supposed to go to Mrs. Figg's for the evening.

Ms. Harish frowned and turned her attention to where he was looking. Dudley and his friends were waiting around for another game of Harry Hunting before a sleepover.

"Ah, I see," she said then turned back to him. "I don't live far. Would you like to have tea at my house today?"

"My aunt and uncle might not like that," Harry mumbled.

Despite those words, he would have loved nothing more than to go home with his favorite teacher.

"Wh-where do you live, Ms. Harish?" he asked.

She smiled. "Number seven Chestnut Row."

"That's only a block over from Privet Drive!"

"Well, how about that? Maybe we can stop by and I'll ask permission to have you over."

The smile she gave him made him agree against all reason. She extended a hand and he took it; her brown skin was soft and cool to the touch and her nails were a pretty shade of violet. Ms. Harish held her head high as she walked and didn't even glance at Dudley and his goons as she passed. Not even when they started mocking them in an Indian accent and holding a finger to their foreheads. Harry almost expected them to give chase then and there, but they didn't. Soon, he and Ms. Harish were out of sight.

They stopped by Number 4 Privet Drive but all Aunt Petunia did was scoff and then claim Mrs. Figg was ill, so someone had to watch Harry for the evening to make sure he stayed out of trouble. Harry could hardly believe his luck and found himself smiling on the walk to Chestnut Way.

Ms. Harish's house was cookie-cutter just like every other house on the block, but when she opened the door, Harry could see that it was anything but. Everything was in bold colors, mainly violet, and her furniture was so beautifully detailed he believed he could spend hours tracing the designs in the wood and on the carpet.

"Shoes off, please," said Ms. Harish, slipping her shoes off by the door. "Dirt is hard to vacuum up."

"Yes, ma'am," he said and took off his shoes and socks.

Ms. Harish made tea and they sat out in her garden to enjoy the golden sun.

"Harry," said Ms. Harish. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Harry.

"Your Aunt and Uncle seem well off," she said. "Yet you come to school in hand-me-downs. I also noticed bruises, Harry, and you are so thin. The only children I have seen as small as you were back in Jalandhar."

Harry bit his lips and looked down at his lap. Buggo, Ms. Hadish's dog, whined and rested his head on Harry's lap. Harry pet him on the head and slowly looked up at Ms. Harish.

"It won't help," he said. "A neighbor saw these a few years ago. She disappeared before anything could happen… and…" He sniffled and felt tears prick his eyes.

"I refuse to disappear on you, Harry," said Ms. Harish. "You remind me of my brother and I will not let what happened to him, happen to you."

"What happened to him?"

Ms. Harish started and shook her head. "A story for another time… Do you know what today is, Harry?"

He shook his head.

"Today is Lakshmi Puja of Diwali, the festival of lights," she said. "I will admit, I did not want to spend it by myself and I thought it would be nice for you to learn a bit about your culture. Do you know what part of India your family is from?"

"I'm sorry… no," said Harry.

"Mm… well, that's okay," she said. "Would you like to learn about Diwali?"

Buggo whined and wagged his tail as if to repeat the question.

"I would very much."

Ms. Harish beamed. She dressed up in a beautiful gagra choli with a violet sari and let him wear one of her silk jackets even though it was much too big. She made him dinner, they cleaned for Lakshmi, and she taught him the prayers. He liked saying them, though he had no idea what he was saying. It just felt right.

"I have one more thing for you, Harry," said Ms. Harish. "Wait right here with Buggo."

She ruffled his hair and went upstairs. Moments later, she returned with her hands behind her back.

"I hope you don't mind one more hand-me-down," she said. "But this is rather special and I think he belongs with someone who will love and appreciate him."

"Ms. Harish—"

"Ah, ah," she said. "Don't protest. You are supposed to give gifts on Diwali. You gave me company, so let me give you this. Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

Harry did so and something soft was placed in them. He opened his eyes and saw a sock monkey made from violet fabric.

"This is Hanuman," said Ms. Harish. "He's named after a main character in the Ramayana. He is amazingly loyal and will look after you like he looked after me when I was your age and came to England."

Harry stared at Hanuman. He could feel something in those button eyes.

"Hanuman will never abandon you," she continued. "And he will give you strength. Okay?"

Harry nodded and hugged Hanuman tightly. He felt a surge of bravery.

"Ms. Harish?"

"Yes, Harry?"

He looked up at her. "Will you help me?"

She smiled and gave him a hug. "I will."