A Lesson Learnt Too Well

by Yidkirkin

Stuck in Muggle London due to the Minister's good intentions and learning magic through a tutor, Harry's third year is about as different as he could have imagined after he blew up his aunt. He doesn't expect to enjoy it; but then he makes a good friend in Maekawa Muneharu when the young gang member takes more than a passing interest in his growth. Gen fic. Mostly canon compliant.

10. Chapter 10

A Lesson Learnt Too Well

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

Christmas day that year was on a Saturday, exactly one week after Muneharu had pushed Harry into fighting him at the not-so-abandoned factory, and dinner at the older boy's home would be later in the evening. Throughout the days leading up to it, Harry had received a slew of letters from Ron and Hermione, both frustrated that he couldn't see them but busy with their own affairs (like the trial that Hagrid's Hippogriff was being subjected to). Neville had written him as well, and in his typical nervous way had told him that he was going to be in London for a few days after New Years, and asked whether Harry would like to meet up for a bit in Diagon; an offer which Harry had accepted readily.

Then Harry had gone into Diagon Alley halfway through the week to buy presents for his friends, and while there had come upon a small shop that sold interesting gifts specifically for muggle relatives (both in the know and not). Now having the task of picking up something for Muneharu and his family, Harry ended up spending some amount of time in there talking with the owner, and had indeed bought two things for the Maekawas after a long but enjoyable deliberation; a small gift for Muneharu and a larger one for his family as a whole. He chose a gift for the Dursleys as well; they could neglect him every Christmas and birthday for the rest of his life for all he cared, but they were the ones who had put him up in London, and for that at least he felt a twinge of gratitude.

The rest of the week had been fairly boring, with Muneharu unavailable due to a pile up of jobs at his work and most of the shops around closing earlier than they had the week prior. Harry didn't even have any lessons again until the third of January –which, he wasn't going to complain about of course, but he knew that without the stimulus he'd have a harder time getting back into the swing of it later.

So with that said, it was unsurprising that he used his free time to keep up with the classes at Sri Guru Singh, as well as volunteer in the kitchens on a more regular basis. They had apparently been glad for the help –Christmastime was always busier for them as more people showed up for a meal, though of course that was also due to the cold weather. Regardless of the extra bustle, Harry was happy to be there and doing something, and when he wasn't at the gurdwara for the langar he was usually with Nihal; who had taken to quizzing Harry on the class content whenever they had a moment to sit together.

Vvv

Saturday started early for Harry –not by choice of course, but because at five in the morning he was jolted out of his sleep by the tapping of talons on his closed window. He pulled off the covers reluctantly; wanting to stay in the warm cocoon he had made himself, but logically knew that if he didn't get up right away then the bird would either be put off when he finally did, or worse, leave his package in the snow on the balcony. Taking a brief moment to stretch his limbs out and prod at the many slowly healing bruises that were visible on his forearms, Harry plodded over and opened the pane –and was surprised when not one, but four different owls hopped into the room.

Harry motioned for them all to wait a moment and went to the kitchen to get a couple of bowls filled with water for them to drink out of. Once he'd placed them on the bookshelf he began untying the packages from the bird's legs, starting with poor Errol and finishing with what he now recognized as being Mr. Kopinak's bird. He tiredly waited while the owls drank their fill, and once three of them had picked up again and left (Errol had settled down to sleep) he closed the window, stroked Hedwig's feathers a bit and then fell back onto his bed with a thud –falling asleep within minutes.

Vvv

When Harry woke again a few hours later, this time of his own accord, he was momentarily confused at the sight of several wrapped packages near the base of his book shelf, and it took a few seconds for him to remember letting the post in that morning. Sitting up, he reached for his glasses and checked the time to make sure –and he did still have enough time before he was supposed to leave to both reply to whoever had sent the gifts and make a dish for the Maekawa's Christmas dinner.

"Happy Christmas, Hedwig." He murmured to the sleepy bird; she gave him a soft hoot in reply, which made him smile. Errol awoke briefly and preened happily under Harry's gentle attention before he settled back down and tucked his head up under his wing.

"Let's see who sent me something." Harry said to himself, stretching languidly as he reached down to pick the parcels up off of the hardwood. There were four packages –one thin one with Mr. Kopinak's distinctive purple ink on the front, one that from the last two years Harry knew to be from Mrs. Weasley, one large one wrapped in brown paper that could have been from anyone, and another that had been wrapped in a newspaper and tied together with twine. Harry chose to open that one first, and inside was a very well maintained penknife with a small note attached, saying how it would open any lock that it went into, but offering no sender.

Curious, Harry tried it out immediately on his front door, locking it from the outside and then inserting the odd piece on one end into the keyhole; a moment later there came the familiar clunk of his door unlatching, and when he turned the knob it did indeed swing open as if it hadn't been locked in the first place. Harry placed it into the basket alongside his keys, and made a vague note to look into sewing a pocket on the inside of his jacket to store them in more securely.

The thin present from Mr. Kopinak turned out to be a little brown address and calendar book, made so that it would respond to a certain erasing charm in the calendar portion once you used up all the available pages. Harry was even able to input dates and set them to stay where they were even when the charm was used –now he could put birthdays and the like down and be sure he would have them when he needed to remember them. Harry spent a couple of minutes writing a thank you letter for his tutor, hoping that the man would like his own gift of a deep purple scarf and matching gloves.

The parcel sent from Mrs. Weasley was indeed a Weasley Jumper, this year a bright golden orange with a green 'H' on the front, similar to the one he had received (and still owned) in his first year. It sent a wave of affection coursing through him that the matronly woman would still think to send him something even with him being away from Hogwarts, and without delay he stripped off his tank top and threw the sweater on –it was a little long in the sleeves, but as opposed to when he would receive Dudley's hand-me-down's he knew that Mrs. Weasley had knitted it like that so he could get more wear out of it.

Finally the large parcel turned out to be a combined three gifts, something each from Ron, Hermione and Hagrid. Ron had sent him a case of sweets from Honeydukes in Hogsmeade as well as a recipe from the same shop, for the treacle tarts Harry had liked the past two years at the school. Hermione had sent him a book on muggle recreational activities (cycling, skiing, hockey) and another on the history of the Sikh community in the United Kingdom (since Harry had mentioned going to Sri Guru Singh). Hagrid gave him a pair of mustard yellow and white wool socks that he had probably knit himself –Harry pulled them on as well and soon enough felt his ever cold toes begin to thaw slightly.

Harry wrote four more thank you letters, one to each of them –at the same time asking Ron, Hermione and Hagrid if they liked their own gifts of Quidditch gloves, a leather wallet and a muggle bulk cookbook respectively. He debated writing a note to the Dursley's to ask what they thought about the vase he sent them (that would enhance the life of any flowers it held), but in the end decided that leaving them none the wiser of the vase's sender was probably a better idea. Once he had sent Hedwig out with those and had tied the letter to Mrs. Weasley onto Errol's leg he checked the time, and decided then that he might as well get going on the food preparation now so he would have an easier time of it later.

Harry had decided to try out two different dishes for the dinner –one was a Consommé Madrilène, which he would set to simmer now and chill into a jellied soup so it would be easier for everyone to eat with the rest of their supper. The other dish was Brussel Sprouts with Walnuts; Harry knew that they weren't exactly a popular vegetable by any means, but Mrs. Lutz had showed him this recipe to use up those sprouts that often went on sale at the supermarket and it had changed Harry's mind about the greens immediately.

Once the Sprouts were blanched and in the fridge, and the Consommé was on the stove with its raft slowly forming, Harry gingerly picked up the wrapped present sitting in the closet and stepped out into the hallway. He balanced the package on one arm and knocked on the door to the Lutz's apartment –and as it was nearing two in the afternoon it took no time at all for Rafid to open the door and welcome him into the entrance, taking the offered gift cheerfully and then going on to introduce Harry to Mrs. Lutz's long talked about but seldom seen partner, Gilda.

Mrs. Lutz waved him over to the kitchen table and then jerked a thumb behind her to draw Harry's attention to the two cases of Spezi sitting in the corner of the kitchen, on top of which Gilda immediately placed what looked to be several tin foil wrapped pies with his name scrawled on the topmost one.

"...Happy Christmas." She eventually settled on saying, giving him a firm pat on the arm and smiling at him for the first time since he had met her.

"Oh, Harry, this is beautiful!" Rafid exclaimed, having opened the gift at the kitchen counter. Gilda made a noise of approval at the tea set Rafid held up to the light –Harry could never tell them, but the set had come from the little shop in Diagon Alley. It was crafted with subtle runes that made it keep drinks either hot or cold longer, adjusting the content so that the liquid it held would always contain whatever nutrients the person drinking it needed at that moment. There were even a few vials of potions included with little labels on them; when Gilda inquired about what they were, Harry fibbed and told the elderly woman that they were tonics for illnesses that could be added to any tea and not disrupt the flavour.

Harry went back to his own apartment to check on his soup a few hours later, not returning for some time as the straining process for Consommé was long and tedious. But once it was cooling in the fridge he could afford to go back over, and upon Gilda's insistence he even brought his Brussel Sprouts with him so he could cook them there instead of making another trip later on.

It was nearly six o'clock by the time Harry left the Lutz's; Spezi, pies and Sprouts in tow with Gilda's help to carry them. The woman was even stronger than Mrs. Lutz was, and Gilda told him that she had been a professional body builder in her mid-thirties and it had never completely left her even after so many years retired. Inwardly Harry resolved to stay on the woman's good side, and bade her goodnight when his gifts and food had been safely placed in the kitchen for his own perusal later on.

He moved the Spezi to the fridge (he had picked up a bad habit after so many months of drinking the stuff) and put the pies in the freezer. His soup and sprouts he transferred to his good travelling containers and then put back in the refrigerator, and upon tidying the kitchen up to the way he liked it he went to grab the two presents he was taking with him from the closet. These he placed on the counter so he wouldn't forget them, and upon making sure that everything was ready and there was nothing he could have possibly forgotten, he approached his closet to change into the good clothes he had picked out for this very occasion.

It wasn't anything fancy of course, having been bought second hand, but it was nicer than trying to play off his uniform shirt as something he wanted to wear outside of school and was miles better than any of Dudley's long since disposed of hand me downs. Just a pair of dark jeans that fit, a long sleeved black shirt underneath an army green button up, with the sleeves rolled up and put with a pair of black, scuffed up oxfords. He thought he looked nice –far nicer than he usually looked, if he was going to be honest with himself –and though it was out of his comfort zone he couldn't help but feel good about dressing himself well for once.

It was just as he was tying up his laces that there came a loud knock at the door, followed by the cheerful voice of Muneharu calling out that he was coming in. Harry grabbed his jacket and pulled his arms through the sleeves as his friend padded into the room, looking just as effortlessly composed as ever even with the still visible bruises from their drag out fight. Harry felt a twinge of guilt but tamped it down gently before it could really get anywhere, remembering that Muneharu had told him not to worry about the entire ordeal, as he had been the one to instigate it and was therefore the only one to blame.

"Somebody cleans up nice." Muneharu said with a toothy grin, waiting patiently as Harry moved around him to grab the two bags of food and presents. Harry grinned despite himself, wincing slightly as the action pulled at his bruised cheek.

"Thanks. How far of a walk is it again?" Muneharu's eyes were focused on Harry's jacket sleeves, but he was quick to answer even with his slight distraction.

"Only ten minutes, with short cuts. Some of the snow melted off so we'll have an easier time than otherwise."

Muneharu followed Harry out of his apartment and down to the courtyard, but once there he was the one to take the lead, walking leisurely and chattering away as they usually did while they were out walking. The air of the early evening was cold and thin, dry as the desert since it hadn't snowed in several days, but there wasn't any wind to deter them from their journey and so it wasn't as unpleasant of a walk as London could sometimes put forth. Harry found himself thinking about that (it felt so long ago now) Bonfire Night, where he had traversed these same streets filled with merriment and wariness, returning to an empty home full of his friend's worries of Sirius Black and his own loneliness.

Now, only a month and a half afterwards, he was walking again, cold in the December chill but with his chest cavity overflowing with that soft sort of happy warmth one feels around the holidays. The one where you know that the place you're heading to has only good memories to be made in it, where the night air only makes the puffs of breath you let out all the more mesmerizing, and there are things weighing down your mind but tonight –tonight you can put them aside and wait to worry about them tomorrow.

Harry liked this feeling –no, Harry had been aching for this feeling –for how long he couldn't say. Had it begun after Dumbledore had forbidden him from returning to Hogwarts? Maybe the day after Bonfire Night? Could it have been that meeting with Minister Fudge, cementing his school year, which had made him want this?

"Harry?"

No, Harry thought as he reassured Muneharu that he was alright; it had probably been that last real day of ignorance in his life, where he hadn't known of his parent's true fates and the only thing that he had been concerned with were whether or not he should repay Hagrid for giving him Hedwig so generously. He felt like he hadn't had a single true day of peacefulness since then, and the thought made him relish in Muneharu's fond smile as the two of them crossed the threshold of his family's small house, finally arrived while Harry had been stewing.

"Muneharu! You're early!" Called a reedy voice from just ahead of them, making Harry fully jump out of his reverie and take in the old man sitting on the front steps. He was very muscular and balding, with small spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose and a white cane held loosely in the hand that wasn't pinching a cigarette. He was wearing a thick, slightly worn out brown sweater and beige khakis, and abandoned the smoking stick as Muneharu and Harry approached, enveloping the older boy in an enthusiastic hug.

"Your mother told me when you were supposed to be back." The man said in explanation, squinting down at Harry once he and Muneharu had separated. "Who might this be?"

"Ah, Grandpa, this is Harry Potter, an... underclassman of mine, you could say. Harry, this is Hiroto Maekawa, my grandfather."

Harry immediately shook the old man's hand, feeling a little nervous at Maekawa Senior's blank, yet somehow still scrutinising gaze but soon relaxing at the amiable smile that he offered a minute later.

"Forgive me if I have trouble recognizing you, Harry. My vision has taken a turn for the worst as of late." Maekawa Senior patted his white cane for emphasis and Harry nodded quickly, at the same time making sure to voice that he understood.

"C'mon, Harry. We should get inside and get all the hellos over and done with." Muneharu said, murmuring something to his grandfather in what Harry had recently started recognizing as Japanese (Muneharu's second language) and then moving up the steps and to the front door.

Stepping into the narrow front hallway was such a change of environment that Harry was frozen in surprise for several seconds before he managed to recover his equilibrium. It was dim and yet brightly lit with yellows and golds from the aged glass bulbs hanging in the ceiling lights, and the walls were made of wood panelling halfway up from the floor and were painted a deep maroon to the ceiling. There were shoes everywhere, and the coat rack on the wall was overflowing, and the rickety wooden staircase directly to their left was dark but laden with bags and umbrellas of all sorts (likely a deterrent so that no one was inclined to go upstairs). It was almost suffocatingly warm and didn't improve much until Harry shed his coat and shoes to join the precarious piles around him –Muneharu just laughed at his lost expression and led him by the elbow further into the house.

There was a television on in the empty living room, playing some animated Christmas special that Harry didn't recognize, with the volume down to a low drone. They passed by it in order to reach the kitchen, which must have been the preferred gathering place for the house because as soon as they stepped into the doorway there was a general interest thrown in their direction before a cacophony of voices called out greetings and questions.

A stout woman –muscular in the same way that Mr. Maekawa was but with a charming pudge to her edges and incredibly similar looking to Muneharu –came out of the chattering group, a beer glass in one hand that didn't stay with her for very long as she saw Harry and Muneharu and gasped out loud. She set the glass down fluidly and then immediately swept Harry into a crushing hug, disregarding his stiff form as she grinned widely down at the top of his head.

"You've finally brought him around!" She exclaimed with laughter in her voice, moving Harry to stand away from her and holding him by his shoulders to inspect him from head to toe. "Why, I've seen you before with the Bhudraja's eldest! I'd recognize that bandana anywhere!"

"Mum, give him a bit of space." Muneharu laughed. "Yes, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is my Mum, Airi Maekawa."

"Very nice to meet a friend of my little Muu-chan!" Mrs. Maekawa said cheerily, and Harry turned back just in time to see Muneharu turn a bright, flushed red at the nickname. "Make yourself at home and let me know if there's anything at all you need, you're a guest here after all. Muneharu, your brother's brought his fiancé around, so go say hello to them at some point."

"Sure." Muneharu said, and left the pair briefly to go and do so after Harry assured him that he didn't mind. Harry took the opportunity to bring Mrs. Maekawa's attention to the packages he had brought along with him and ask what he should do with them.

"Oh, how thoughtful! I'll take the gifts over to the tree to open later, and if you want you can put the food either on the table right away or in the fridge for when everyone gets dinner in a few minutes." Harry nodded quickly and handed the boisterous woman the bag with Muneharu's and the Maekawa family's gifts inside, and then took his soup and sprouts into the kitchen to try and find a place for them in the overstuffed refrigerator.

The next half hour was spent being introduced to the other twenty something people crowding around in the average sized kitchen. Harry met all three of Muneharu's siblings, his sister's husband Dimekritos and the second son's fiancé Paul, as well as being briefly shown the little shrine picture of Muneharu's deceased father, Ryuusuke Oda. Then there were the aunts and uncles numbering five, and three of those with spouses –also the six collected cousins who ran in age from the baby Ziva to the ten year old Travis. On top of those were two distant family members from Maekawa Senior's side of the family, and three close family friends that Muneharu said may as well have been family all the same.

Harry's head spun at all the names but no one begrudged him his slip ups, and by the time dinner was put out on the table he was at least feeling marginally less nervous about having met so many people in such a short amount of time. Muneharu was a great help of course, sticking close to him most of the time and interjecting things into conversations if he felt that Harry needed his help. The meal, of course, didn't stay in the kitchen –everyone grabbed what they wanted (some eyeing the jellied consommé dubiously) and then dispersed either into the living room or onto the backyard porch if they happened to be a smoker.

And there was also no formal end to the meal; some people, mostly the kids, were done quickly and began scampering around to play, pulling Muneharu and Harry along with them once the pair was finished eating as well. The older family members took longer, and many of the younger adults got up for seconds after a leisurely first course, so that when Mrs. Maekawa finally called for everyone to squeeze into the living room there was no one left unfed or lacking.

"Alright everyone, grab your gifts and get back to your seats! We'll be doing it counter clockwise this year!" She instructed before going to help hand out the gifts closest to her. Most people received two, with there being a few threes in the mix, but Harry was surprised when Mrs. Maekawa called out to him and gave him two small packages wrapped in pretty green paper. He hadn't expected to get anything at all.

"Okay, Travis, you're first. Did you get anyone a present?" Mrs. Maekawa asked the ten year old to her right –he nodded and pointed to his little sister Anne. "Okay, Anne, go ahead."

It went like that for the rest of them, with each person having to indicate who they gave gifts to and those people then opening them up and showing what they had received. Harry was seated to the left of Muneharu in the rough circle everyone had made around the coffee table, and with a bit of a burning face he said that he had given a gift each to Muneharu and Mrs. Maekawa.

"Oh." "My, how nice!"

Mrs. Maekawa held up the quilt for everyone to see, shaking off what most thought to be a dusting of glitter but what Harry knew to be a subtle charm for goodwill that affected the people who were around the quilt after it was first touched. It was a rich purple with a design of a night sky done in yellow, and the colours were reversed on the other side. The best thing was that there were also runes stitched in that would adjust the temperature to whatever was preferred while it was being used, and would also give off an aura of calm if anyone near it was distressed. Harry grinned bashfully at the thanks that Muneharu's mother heaped upon him, before turning to see how his friend reacted to his own gift.

Muneharu wasn't reacting; he was just staring at the wristwatch in his hands with an almost puzzled expression. It looked simple on the surface –it had a black leather wristband and was made of polished copper, and it had four hands (minute, hour, day, year) that were already ticking away. But, as with the other gifts Harry had obtained from that small shop in Diagon, there were runes inside that acted akin to an 'everlasting charm', and were also supposed to speed up healing and evoke good memories 'one may have forgotten'.

"Huh." He eventually settled on, and without skipping a beat he pushed up his sleeve and fastened the watch onto his wrist, fiddling with it only a moment and then smiling, satisfied. "Thank you." He told Harry sincerely, and then looked over to his mother and announced that he had brought a gift for both his grandfather and Harry.

Looking down at the two presents in his lap, Harry only needed to inspect them briefly before he found which one had Muneharu's familiar sharp handwriting written on the label –he tore into it carefully, not wanting to damage whatever was inside the paper. A box fell onto his knees then, slim and black with a lip at one end so that he could lift the lid to look inside; Harry shot a curious look at Muneharu, but far from revealing what it was, the older boy just looked excited and motioned for him to hurry up.

Inside the lip of the box was a metal rod about five inches long, with a ring attached to one end that held three different keys on it. Harry really didn't know what it was he was looking at, but before he could ask Muneharu to explain there was a great surge of laughter that drowned him out and the gift opening moved on to whoever was next.

Twenty minutes of alternate merriment and befuddlement passed for Harry, before the unwrapping ended with Mrs. Maekawa indicating that she had bought her children and Harry gifts (she had given him a key ring utility tool), and everyone descended into chatting or moving back into the kitchen for another round of food and drink. Harry hovered awkwardly next to the Christmas tree for a few minutes as he waited to catch Muneharu at the right time, before he was swept abruptly to the side and came face to face with Muneharu's brother and his fiancé.

"So, you're the one Mune's been hanging out with lately?" Hiroe asked, patting Harry on the shoulder and smiling down at him amiably. Paul hovered at the man's shoulder, face mostly neutral but looking at Harry like he was trying to figure out if he had seen him somewhere before. Harry swallowed and nodded, suddenly tense at the scrutinizing gaze being directed towards him from nearly two feet above his head, a fact that Paul apparently noticed, as he huffed and elbowed Hiroe in the ribs.

"Ahh, sorry, sorry! I just wanted to see how the new batch of Moths was holding up, you know that Paul." Hiroe said in apology, although to Harry it seemed remarkably similar to the way Fred and George acted when trying to get back into Ginny's or Mrs. Weasley's good graces. "I didn't know they were recruiting this young though –you're what, fourteen, kid? Want to let me in on why Dom's so interested in you?"

"Uh –I'm thirteen." Harry replied dumbly, not having followed the tall man's train of thought. "I d-don't know who Dom is?"

"Huh? But I could've sworn since Mune joined up –GUH!"

"I can't leave you alone for one second, can I?" Muneharu said, amused, and Harry couldn't for the life of him tell if that was directed at him or Hiroe. "Hiro, shut up. Paul, sorry about punching your man."

Paul shrugged and gave a shadowy smile as he led the dramatically wincing Hiroe away by the shoulders. "Brotherly spats, not my problem."

Muneharu laughed. "I really like him. Now, I'm sure that you've got a... few questions?"

"...Yeah, a couple."

Vvv

The older teen had led Harry back through the front hallway in the opposite direction to the front door, so that they ended up in a small, cozy sitting room that sat in the far corner of the house. Muneharu plopped down on the couch against the far wall and smacked the cushion to his right a few times –Harry sat down after a beat of silence, and then turned to wait for his friend to start whatever this was.

"I couldn't get my mind off of that stuff you told me after we fought." Muneharu admitted, making Harry flinch slightly at the memory. "And I still didn't have a present for you. I kept turning it over and trying to figure out a way to solve it –I know that's impossible but it's a habit of mine –and in the end I came up with that." He gestured to the keys Harry was still holding in his hand.

"The two square keys are for my place and my work. If you've got some godfather after you, or your uncle might come around looking to hurt you, I don't want you to have nowhere to go. So you can kip at my place or duck into the shop whenever you need to; no ifs, ands, or buts about it." Harry stared in shock, but Muneharu just kept on talking. "And the third one's... kind of illegal, but I figure I did tons of shitty stuff at your age so who cares? It's not done yet, but I'm building a moped as part of my apprenticeship, and when it's done you can have it."

"What?" Harry asked, incredulous. Then, "When you were my age? You're barely three years older than me!"

"Still a true statement." Muneharu shot back unrepentantly; but after a minute he sobered and regarded Harry seriously. "I've made some major decisions lately, and whether you knew it or not you helped me work most of them out." He fiddled absentmindedly with his new watch, trying to find the right words to go off of. "I dropped out of school before the hols started, since I'm sixteen now. I'm going to work full time at Burke's Auto, and I accepted an apprenticeship offer from Douglas a few weeks before that. Wally, my senior from school and an officer in the Evil Moth of Death, asked me one last time right before our fight if I would join up with them as a prospect –I accepted, and along with Youji Kuniyoshi and Tanner D'Angelo I will eventually become an officer in EMOD's third generation."

Harry sat quietly, not so much stunned as he was caught off guard by Muneharu's sudden confession. But he couldn't think of anything to say in response –didn't know how he should react to being told something like this from his friend. He was so used to people admitting things as a precursor to something earth shattering happening after; Hagrid telling him about Voldemort, Dumbledore filling him in on the Philosopher's Stone, learning what being a Parselmouth meant in the Wizarding community at large.

This felt different though –safer, more that Muneharu was confiding in him than anything –and that had never happened to him before. For all the dangerous situations he found himself in at Hogwarts, he wasn't treated like he could handle it even now; coddling, they coddled him trying to keep him safe when he hadn't felt the slightest bit secure since before he had faced that Troll back in first year.

Harry, at the core of his being, longed for security more than anything. He wanted to be able to go home and have nothing weighing on his mind, nothing threatening his life, no pressing obligations or people judging him for something he couldn't even remember. He wanted self confidence –encompassing everything about him, not just the parts that were acceptable to what people thought he should be. Wanted to have people he could rely on, turn to for anything, trust with anything, and then in return he wanted to have people who looked to him not because he had survived Voldemort, but because they knew he was capable enough to handle it.

He knew that he would only stick with something for so long if it was consistently good enough to warrant his energy; that though it was selfish, he wasn't going to devote his life to a place that had been all he ever needed only at the beginning, before he learnt of it's true colours. It was small, but he was different to the Harry who had run away from Privet Drive with his school trunk and wand but no plan. He wasn't the same as the Harry who had bottled up his emotions and would have quietly swallowed the headmaster's decision had it not been for Muneharu dragging his inner thoughts out into the open by the throat.

He already knew that deep in his heart, if they decided to leave him any longer, he wasn't going to stand still and wait for them.

Vvv

Harry,

It's gotten quite cold here in the castle now that all of the students have gone home. I'm always in the library these days with Ron, and we're still trying to find out a way of helping Hagrid and Buckbeak on our own. I wish you were here to help –you never liked doing homework but you were really perceptive when it came to looking at things from a different angle. I was going to go home for the holidays, but I thought I could get more done by staying here.

I'm really glad you liked your present, I had a hard time picking out which books to send you and almost didn't send the second one –but since you can't play Quidditch in London I thought maybe you could get some use out of Jarold's Hand Book and I know I personally never dislike reading about my family when I can, so that History text wouldn't be remiss. I absolutely loved the wallet you sent –I had Professor Babbling look it over since I noticed some runes stitched into the seams –where on earth did you find someone who does such fine work?

But there isn't much to tell beyond that –I'm sad that you can't come back to visit, but there must be a reason for it? If you're really frustrated over it you should ask Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore outright.

Anyway, I hope you have a good rest of the holidays! Don't you worry, before long this whole business will have blown over, I'm sure the Ministry is close to catching Black.

From, Hermione

Hey Harry, really liked the Quidditch gloves! Glad you got the Honeyduke's package alright, the school owl looked a bit miffed at hauling such a big package for us, but we gave it a couple rats so it should be fine! Hermione was a nightmare this year when it came to ordering stuff in –I think it's all the classes she's taking starting to weigh her down –so make sure you tell her next year what you want beforehand yeah? Save her some stress.

Dean and Seamus aren't here right now, they're visiting Dean's family for the hols, and they asked me to tell you to have a good one out in London. I've still been hanging around with those two lately, especially when Hermione's too busy and no one wants to play any chess with me. It's a right shame you can't come back, I would've asked you to come to the Burrow if I were going to be there.

Say, what did Hagrid send you? Both me and Hermione got socks. If I had to guess I'd think you got the same, but if you got rock cakes then that's a bit of a tosser.

Hoping to see you during Easter break, maybe –

Ron

Vvv

Ron, Hermione

I had wanted to come back, but I guess it just wasn't in the cards. Whatever Professor Dumbledore decides, that's sure to be the best option, and he says it's 'not safe' yet. I'm going to ask again before Easter, but somehow I think I shouldn't be getting my hopes up.

I did get socks as well from Hagrid –mustard yellow, I'm wearing them as I write this. It's been really cold here as well lately so I've been going down to the shop a lot to buy a few more blankets, and I've tried out some recipes for hearty soups that I can keep warm on the stove all day to snack on for something cheap. I found the wallet in a small shop on Diagon I went to back in the summer, I'll have to bring you there when we see each other again.

I'm starting my classes with Mr. Kopinak again after New Year's, probably the same time as you if I'm remembering right. Apparently we're going to be cutting back on some classes and building on others depending on how my mid-year marks come out, so I'll definitely be writing to tell you about that. Let Dean and Seamus know that I will try my best.

I'm just going to relax this New Year's, for the most part. I have a few tentative plans, but nothing concrete. Let me know if you need any help with the Buckbeak trial.

Harry