Harry Potter Always Learning
From his position on the floor, the three year old Harry peeks his emerald eyes up through his messy black hair. Harry is hoping his cousin, Dudley, will soon be full of his lunch and leave a few scraps for Harry to eat.
Aunt Petunia sits at the table, next to her chubby son, beaming with pride as her son gobbles down his bowl of macaroni and cheese. She will not feed the wretch on the floor until she is sure that Dudley has had his fill. Just like everything else, Harry only gets what Dudley leaves. His clothes are ones that Dudley no longer fits, his food is whatever Dudley leaves, his toys are old broken ones of Dudley's.
Today, Dudley leaves no scraps. Harry will have to wait and hope for something to be left at dinner time.
"Meals are for the family, scraps are for beggars," Is what Uncle Vernon had told Harry.
Beggar was his name when there was food for him. Boy was his name most of the time. He was a Filthy Wretch every week or two and had to have a bath in Dudley's left over cold bath water. His new name this week was Freak, because somehow a box of cereal floated off the table and landed in front of him. He did so much want to try Dudley's new cereal, but when the box came to him, his Uncle yelled at him calling him a freak and thrown Harry into his cupboard under the stairs.
Harry sat quietly in his cupboard and listened to his cousin's birthday party. Dudley had all of his preschool friends over for the afternoon.
"I got a new bike for my birthday," one of Dudley's friends exclaimed.
"We're five now and we can ride our bikes to school," another voice announced.
Since Harry had never had a birthday, he was wondering if he would get to go to school one day. He knew how to count and his alphabet from listening to Aunt Petunia teaching Dudley. Some nights he would slip out of his cupboard to find Dudley's preschool books and copy letters and he was learning to read some words too. But he knew freaks didn't need that kind of education. You didn't need to read to clean the house or do the yard work. You learned which were flowers and which were weeds by having your hands slapped for pulling the wrong ones and you had to try and remember, even after a whole year. None of Dudley's books told him anything like that.
Once all Dudley's friends were gone for the day, Aunt Petunia opened Harry's cupboard door and told him to start cleaning up from the party.
While his aunt was helping Dudley put away all his new stuff, Harry hid some of the leftover food in his cupboard, he was sure no one would notice.
Harry was locked in his cupboard that night so Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley could take Dudley to his favourite restaurant for dinner.
Harry didn't mind, somehow his cupboard door would unlock itself so he could get out. It didn't used to do this, but now it did. He didn't care why it would unlock, it was probably just one of those freaky things that happened around him sometimes.
Harry didn't mind being kept after school most days to finish his homework; not having time to do it and get all his chores done. He'd been doing it for two years now. But today was different, he had a detention for climbing up onto the school roof. Harry knew he hadn't climbed up there, he just seemed to be there. He just wanted to get away from Dudley and his gang of Potter beaters, and he found himself on the roof.
Today was Dudley's tenth birthday and he wanted to go to the Zoo. Much to his Uncle and Aunts displeasure, they would have to take Harry too. They wouldn't leave him alone anymore. The last time they went out, they had come home and found Harry asleep on the floor with the TV. on. Somehow he had got out of his locked cupboard.
When asked how he got out, he had said that the door had just unlocked itself and opened.
"Liar," Uncle Vernon bellowed and slapped Harry across the face so hard, Harry fell to the floor. Uncle Vernon then kicked Harry all the way back to his cupboard. Then grabbing his hair and throwing him back into the cupboard.
Harry had only ever been out with his relatives when the school nurse had said Harry needed glasses and his Aunt took him to a place for the needy to get an eye check-up and free, used glasses.
Harry had read about the Zoo, but had never seen anything other than neighbourhood cats, dogs and birds.
He was excited, but was trying his hardest not to let anyone notice.
Because his Uncle had to pay for Harry to get into the Zoo, Uncle Vernon said that Harry would have to paint the shed to make up for the cost.
The whole day had been relatively nice and peaceful, until they got to the snake exhibit. Dudley was trying to get a snake to move, the snake paid the excessive pounding on the glass little or no attention.
Once Dudley wandered away, Harry turned to the snake and apologized for Dudley's action.
The snake turned and looked directly at Harry.
"Can you hear me?" Harry questioned the snake. The snake in turn nodded yes.
Harry and the snake were discussing families when Dudley came along and pushed Harry out of the way.
Harry glared over at his cousin and the glass in front of the snake exhibit disappeared and Dudley fell into the snake pond.
Harry laughed while the snake made its way out and then the glass reappeared.
Petunia started screaming because her precious Dudley was stuck in the exhibit.
Vernon was glaring at Harry with a furious glare.
Harry sat as far into the front seat of the car as possible, trying to pretend he didn't exist, while Aunt Petunia cuddled Dudley in the back seat.
Once Uncle Vernon finished dragging Harry into the house by his hair, he turned on the boy: "What happened?"
"I don't know," Harry began, "one minute the glass was there and the next it was gone. Like magic."
"Liar," Uncle Vernon snarled and backhanded Harry.
"There's no such thing as magic," snarled as he kicked the boy towards the cupboard.
Grabbing Harry by the hair, Vernon threw the boy into the cupboard, slamming and locking the door.
Harry lay in the dark holding his side in pain. His teeth were clenched as tight as possible as he tried not to scream out, he knew if he did he'd get dragged out and kicked some more.
He already hurt more than he had in a very long time.
Harry's mind however was screaming out, mentally begging for someone to take the pain away. Never before had uncle Vernon's kicks hurt this much and his clenched jaw was giving him a horrible headache.
"Just go to sleep Harry," Harry whispered to himself, "then you'll feel better."
Harry felt himself drifting off to sleep.
Harry thought he felt a cold hand on his face, he did not want to wake up. This cold hand felt good on the bruise from Vernons slap and he leaned into it. He winced in pain when he felt his body move. The cold hand was gone: he wanted to keep his eyes closed and find that comfort that was just in his sleep.
Suddenly, Harry felt like he was floating, a nauseating tug in his stomach, followed by what felt like a warm comfy bed under him.
"Harry, can you swallow this for me?" A gentle female voice drifted through his head.
Harry opened his eyes slightly, but the light made his headache worse.
To Harry, he was in his cupboard dreaming, so why not do as the voice requested.
It tasted worse than some of the plants he had tried to eat in Aunt Petunia's garden.
The pain in his head dissipated and he was able to go back to the peaceful dream and the cold hand was gently stroking his brow.
When Harry opened his eyes, his body tensed up with fear. He found himself in a bed, in a room with dim lights, no sounds and a black haired man asleep in the chair next to Harry's bed.
Harry closed his eyes to the point that he could peek through his long black eyelashes.
'I have to still be dreaming,' Harry thought to himself.
"It's alright, Harry dear," that gentle female voice whispered from the opposite side of the bed from the sleeping man.
Harry closed his eyes tight.
Harry heard movement from the man in the chair.
Once again there was a cold hand on his brow, as it softly stroked Harry's hair from his forehead. Again, Harry leaned into the touch. He gave him a feeling of...comfort. Almost like he had felt the touch before. But Harry knew that wasn't possible...was it?!
"I know you're scared, Harry," a soft male voice said as the hand continued to stroke his hair. "But no one here will hurt you."
Harry peeked through his eyelashes.
"My name is Professor Snape," the male voice introduced himself. "I found you in the cupboard at your Aunt and Uncle's and brought you here to Hogwarts."
"Come on sweetie. Open your eyes and I'll get you some breakfast," the woman said.
Harry opened his eyes a little wider, but not fully.
"Can I look at your arm and your ribs, to see if they're better now?" the woman asked, gently pulling the blanket from Harry's shoulders.
Harry's arms quickly grabbed hold of the blanket and pulled it back up to his neck.
"Well, I see your arm is better," the woman giggled.
"Come on Harry," Professor Snape said, tugging the blanket. "Let Madam Pomfrey check you over and then we can get some breakfast and talk."
Harry's body stiffened up as the blanket was pulled away, his eyes remained closed.
"It's okay Harry," Madam Pomfrey softly spoke while gently rubbing his arm.
Harry peeked as the woman waved a stick up and down his body. She had a smile and gave Professor Snape an occasional nod.
"Oh good, he's awake," an older woman dressed in a dark green robe and a slightly bent witch looking hat remarked as she approached the bed. "I found some Muggle looking clothes in Gladrags. I hope they fit better than those horrible rags he had on when you brought him here." She turned her glance to Professor Snape.
"You make it sound like his attire was my fault," Professor Snape huffed at the older woman.
"The bruises will take another day of salve to go away. But the broken ribs and arm have healed. "He also seems to no longer need those glasses. How that occurred, I'm not sure." Madam Pomfrey told the older woman and Snape.
Snape made no comment, there was just a small up curl of his lip, like a withheld smile.
"Severus, help Harry get dressed and I'll go make sure a place is set for him at the head table," the older woman stated and swooped back out of the room.
"I know how to dress," Harry whispered to Madam Pomfrey.
"I'm sure you do," she whispered back, with a little giggle.
Professor Snape turned to Madam Pomfrey and raised an eyebrow.
"Harry knows how to dress," Madam Pomfrey smiled at Professor Snape.
"I expect he does," Snape sneered, placing the clothes the older woman had brought, on the bed next to Harry.
"We'll let you dress. And be quick about it," Professor Snape told Harry. "I would hate for my coffee to get cold."
Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey, each pulled a curtain around the bed, giving Harry some privacy to dress.
Harry had a million questions running around in his head, but Harry wasn't allowed to question, he was just supposed to do what he was told.
Harry had never had underwear before or his own pair of jeans or socks without holes. The t-shirt was a little big, but he liked it. He liked the colour blue and the dragon on the front seemed to change colours, the fleece jacket zipped up the front and was a rich red colour. He even had his own pair of trainers, but he wasn't sure how to tie them. Dudley's out grown trainers always had the laces in knots.
When Professor Snape came back into the curtained off area, Harry was still trying to figure out how to tie his shoes.
Snape picked Harry up, sat him on the bed. He leaned Harry's foot against his thigh and let Harry see how he tied a bow in Harry's shoes.
"Thanks," Harry shyly murmured.
"You're welcome," Snape replied and placed Harry back on the floor.
Professor Snape took Harry by the hand to lead him out of the hospital wing.
Harry was almost running in order to keep up with Professor Snape's brisk walk.
They traveled through long halls, down a few different staircases. Each hall was full of portraits that appeared to move and even talk. Harry assumed it was just one of those weird things that happened around him, so he wasn't going to pay attention to them. He didn't want Professor Snape to know that he was a freak.
Two massive wooden doors parted before them to reveal a dining hall with four tables and seating for a hundred people or more at each table. Straight ahead of them was another large table upon a platform, so those at this table could look down upon the other four tables.
The older woman who had brought the clothes for Harry was sitting up there with a few other people.
Harry felt very self conscience as these people stared down at him as he and the Professor approached. Harry kept his head slightly bent down and his eyes on his shoes.
Professor Snape lead Harry around one side of the table, bring them up next to the old woman.
"Harry, this is Professor McGonagall," Snape introduced the older woman.
"Thank you for the clothes," Harry quietly and shyly said to the woman.
"You're welcome, Harry. Does everything fit okay?" Professor McGonagall smiled.
"Yes Professor," Harry timidly replied.
"This is Professor Flitwick," Professor Snape introduced a very small man with grey hair.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," the little professor said, shaking Harry's hand.
"Hi," a meek voice escaped Harry.
"Harry," a burly giant of a man spouted as he rounded the table. The floor shook with each step he took.
Harry scrambled to the back for Professor Snape's legs.
"Hagrid!" Professor McGonagall barked. "You're terrifying the child," she scolded.
"I ain't gonna 'urt cha 'arry," Hagrid said, bending way down trying to be eye to eye with Harry.
Snape reached behind and slightly pushed Harry's back, forcing Harry to come part way around his legs.
Snape's hand was still on Harry's back, gently rubbing it.
Hagrid stayed folded over, until Harry's emerald eyes peeked out.
"Hagrid, I'd like to have my coffee before it gets cold," Professor Snape snarled at the giant.
"Oh, sorry 'bout that," Hagrid replied and rose back up and made his way to a chair.
"You're fine now, Harry," Snape remarked. "Sit down."
Harry sat on the floor behind the chair Snape was near.
Snape was struck dumb by Harry's action, as was the rest of the staff.
Snape reached down, hauled the boy up and sat him in a chair. Then sat himself next to Harry.
As soon as Professor Snape was seated, food magically appeared on the table.
Harry was horrified.
He slid off the chair, scrambled under the table and off the platform and bolted across the Great Hall's floor.
"Harry," Snape bellowed, as Harry scurried as fast as he could towards the door.
"What the hell?" Professor Flitwick queried.
Snape may have been taking the long way around the table, but his leg span was much greater than Harry's, enabling them both to reach the doorway at the same time.
Snape scooped Harry up, holding the boy out in front of him, he looked at Harry and the boy went rigid with his eyes scrunched closed tightly.
"Severus? Harry?" Madam Pomfrey queried as she approached the pair.
"He looks terrified. Severus what did you..." Madam Pomfrey scowled.
"Don't give me that look, woman. I did nothing to the boy," Snape snapped at the mediwitch.
Snape pulled Harry close to his chest and began to gently stroke the boy's hair, hoping it would calm him down the way it had in the hospital room.
"Tell me what happened," Madam Pomfrey asked in a nicer tone.
"Breakfast arrived and he bolted," Snape spoke softly and continued to caress Harry's hair.
Snape felt Harry begin to relax slightly.
"He lived with Muggles. Perhaps magic..." Pomfrey began and she noticed Harry stiffen up again.
Snape felt Harry tremble.
"Magic won't hurt you Harry," Snape tried to explain.
"Magic's not real," Harry mumbled as his arms came up to protect his head.
"You're in a special place were magic is real," Pomfrey explained. "Everyone here can do magic."
"Let's go eat some breakfast and then I'll show you some magic," Snape suggested, carrying Harry back to the table.
"Is everything alright?" Professor McGonagall inquired when they returned to their seats. Madam Pomfrey taking the seat on the other side of Harry.
"Muggles," Snape grumbled, tapping his wand on his coffee to heat it back up.
Madam Pomfrey began to put food on Harry's plate. Knowing how under nourished he was, she put a little of everything, especially fruit.
Harry examined the plate placed before him.
"Eat up, Harry," madam Pomfrey told him, while Snape continued to sip his steaming coffee and talk with Professor McGonagall.
Harry popped a strawberry in his mouth. He liked the taste of that. But he was having problems picking up his scrambled eggs.
"Use your fork," Snape snapped at the boy.
Emerald green eyes peeked through black hair to meet onyx black eyes.
Snape found himself lost in the eyes of his long lost secret love.
Snape quickly regained himself and handed Harry a fork.
Harry clutched the fork tightly in his hand and stabbed the eggs like he was killing the food.
Through his nose, Snape took in a deep breath, his eyes closed as he exhaled slowly.
"It would appear that magic isn't the only thing he needs to learn about," Pomfrey smirked.
"I do not find his upbringing the slightest bit amusing," Snape snarled.
"I don't think you have the patience for this task," McGonagall remarked. "Maybe Albus should find another..."
"Albus did not assign this task," Snape scowled. "I chose to do this."
"Does Albus know the boy is here?" McGonagall inquired.
"Whether he does or doesn't know, is irrelevant," Pomfrey barked. "There is no way that child is returning to those...those..." "Muggles," Snape intervened with a smug look.
"That is more polite than what I would call them," Pomfrey sneered.
Harry continued to attack his food. He knew these conversations didn't involve him. The adults were talking about something called Muggles, not freak or wretch.
"I think this conversation should cease until young ears are not present," Flitwick suggested.
"Agreed," Snape nodded and began eating his toast.
Professor Flitwick quickly turned the conversation to his grandchildren, who he was off to visit by week's end.
"What is your favourite colour?" Pomfrey whispered to Harry.
"Blue," he whispered back.
Madam Pomfrey tapped her wand on Harry's glass of milk, turning it a light blue.
Harry seemed to except the fact that the mediwitch had altered the colour of his milk, but the drink still required close examination, a sniff, and a tiny sip. Once the milk passed these tests, he guzzled it down.
Snape's eyes narrowed as they glared over at the woman, but he didn't say a word.
Harry wiped his face off on the sleeve of his jacket, causing Snape to inhale deeply once again with a light shake of his head.
"Would you like to go for a walk Harry?" Snape questioned the boy.
"Kay," Harry replied timidly. He wasn't used to being asked questions. Usually he was told what to do.
Snape made a cloth appear and wiped Harry's face and hands off, then the damp cloth disappeared.
Harry took Snape's hand and they left the table.
Harry felt guilty leaving these nice people to clean up the breakfast dishes.