Chapter Eleven: Conversations and Competitions.
(Recognizable portions of this chapter are from chapters sixteen and seventeen of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling.)
The last time Albus Dumbledore was awake after midnight, it was the night Voldemort had been, for all intents and purposes, vanquished. Now, he was in the Hospital wing, where he had two students and a professor laid up. In one corner, a hulking figure was perched on what was surely a too-small chair.
"Both boys are magically exhausted, and I had to patch up a nasty nosebleed on Mister Fenton," said Madam Pomfrey.
"And Professor Quirrell?" asked Dumbledore with growing suspicion as to who had been trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
"He has third degree burns on his arms and hands, and what looks like the after effects of a nasty possession."
"But he's alive?" Dumbledore questioned.
"It looks like someone used a brute force exorcism to cleave whatever was possessing him out."
Madam Pomfrey led him to the three beds now occupied hospital beds. Quirrell had his forearms and hands wrapped in thick bandages that looked not unlike mittens. On the other two beds were the boys, who had their robes traded out for linen hospital gowns. The first thing that drew the Headmaster's eye was the set of scars on Danny's neck.
"Cursed scars, no clue what made them. He doesn't show any signs of even the weakened form of lycanthropy, and I found similar scars on Mister Potter's chest."
That drew the bearded wizard's attention to the final bed. Harry was resting peacefully, but there was something off. It took a second for him to realize what.
Harry's hair had turned a vivid scarlet.
Dumbledore cast a simple detection charm, which caused a golden glow to appear around him. A single silver eyebrow rose.
"It would seem there is more to young Harry than meets the eye."
Poppy looked stumped for a moment before casting the same charm.
"A metamorphmagus?"
Albus nodded.
"But, how did it not show sooner?"
Dumbledore gave her his theory, which she found as reasonable as any.
"Now, what I would like to know is how these three came into your care." He asked.
Hagrid chose that moment to wake up and shuffle over.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir, it's my fault." the half-giant said.
"How so?"
"We were out in the forest, trackin' down a wounded unicorn. I suggested tha' we split up ter find it easier. Harry an' Danny found it, sent up green sparks like I told 'em ter, but 'fore we got there the wolves showed up, carryin' both o' them an' Quirrell. The clearin' they came from had the dead unicorn an' signs of a fight. None of it woulda happened if I were there."
"At ease, Hagrid, you couldn't have known what was going to happen." Dumbledore reassured the gamekeeper. He turned to Madam Pomfrey.
"Do tell me when Quirinus wakes up. I have a few questions he needs to answer." The nurse nodded.
As he passed by Harry's bed, he placed a hand over his forehead. Most Legilimency required eye contact, the only exception being Tactile Legilimency. Of course, being able to read minds with only a touch was infinitely more difficult, and could only be performed by a witch or wizard of exceptional power and control, of which Albus was both. After seeing what Harry had seen in the forest, he took a detour and looked at what the boy was dreaming about.
What he found explained a good deal about the scars on his chest.
~~AWS~~
When Danny woke up, he said the first thing that came to mind.
"Did anyone get the number on the erumpet that hit me?"
"Sadly, it was no erumpet, but something far more malevolent." A wizened voice said. Danny turned to see Dumbledore sitting next to Harry's bed. He took in his surroundings and groaned when he realized he was in the hospital wing for the second time in the year.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Danny, Harry."
Harry was sitting up, and it took him a second to realize that his hair was changing colors.
"Harry, you're a metamorphmagus!" Danny blurted out. Harry's eyes widened and he pulled strands of hair into view to see. Dumbledore handed him a mirror that hadn't been there a moment ago.
"I thought metamorphmagi had their powers when they were born?" Danny asked.
"Indeed, I believe Harry's abilities may have suppressed, the night Voldemort killed his parents." Dumbledore theorized. He turned to Harry.
"Harry, do you know why, in the forest, Quirrell could not touch you?"
"No, sir."
"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's love for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign … to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, his body full of Voldemort's hatred, greed, and ambition, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."
"But how does this relate to Harry's metamorph abilities?"
"Are you familiar with the law of unintended consequences?"
"That every action can cause something that you didn't intend to happen?"
"Not those words exactly, but close enough. I believe that the protection became entwined with your talent, and when Voldemort set off the protection, it awoke your ability."
"But how am I a metamorphmagus?"
"I would like to think your father's skills as a transfiguration prodigy may have had something to do with it. He was very good at changing his own appearance." The Headmaster said with a twinkle in his eye.
"If it's any consolation, I am very sorry." A new voice spoke up. All heads turned to the other occupied bed. Quirrell had bandages around his arms and the back of his head. He was a bit less deathly pale, but still unhealthily thin.
"I let my own desire for knowledge and power blind me to making a deal with the devil." He said sadly. "You needn't worry about the Stone anymore. I don't want anything to do with it."
Dumbledore turned back to Harry.
"But why did Vol-, I mean, You-Know Who, go after me?" Harry asked, his hair shifting to black.
"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. As for your question, that is something I cannot tell you yet. You will know, one day… put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older… I know you hate to hear this… when you are ready, you will know."
It was clear there was no arguing the point.
"Sir? Is Voldemort… still alive?"
"Only in the sense that he exists and is conscious."
"But, even if he can't get the Stone, he's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I meas, he hasn't gone, has he?"
"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share … not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. Had he remained with Quirrell, he would have surely left him to die once he had fulfilled his purpose to him; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, Danny, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time - and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power at all."
Dumbledore left them to their rest after that, and it was another day before the cousins were allowed out of the Hospital wing. Harry had managed to keep his hair one color, so no one else knew that he was a metamorphmagus. Naturally, he told Ron and Hermione, and after some convincing by Danny, Neville was let in on the secret.
With the life-threatening drama of the year over with, the only things left were the upcoming exams and Quidditch.
They had taken their final exams in the first week of June. It was sweltering hot, the kind of weather that makes one reconsider the practicality of black robes as day wear, and nowhere more so than in the large classroom where they did the written portion of their exams. They were all given special quills for the exams, ones charmed with an anti-cheating spell. Once the paperwork was done, they had practical exams.
In Charms class, Professor Flitwick called them up one by one to bewitch a pineapple to tapdance across the table.
Transfiguration had them changing a mouse into a snuffbox. Professor McGonagall gave them points for how pretty the resulting snuffbox was, and docked them if they retained any part of the mouse, such as whiskers, as was usually the case.
Snape breathed down their necks during the Potions practical, watching as they brewed a Forgetfulness Draught. He was clearly being ironic in his choice of assignment.
In Astronomy, the practical involved observing and identifying the moons of Jupiter, with Professor Sinistra making sure they stayed on task.
The practical in Herbology had them demonstrate how to repel Devil's Snare. The plants didn't much like sunlight, or fire. Lumos Solem was the ideal spell to use, as they lost points for damaging the vines.
In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Quirrell had recovered enough from his ordeal as Voldemort's puppet to oversee their practical, where they demonstrated several basic defensive charms, the most useful one for dealing with an adversary being the Knockback Jinx.
History of Magic was their last exam, which boiled down to one hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons because they couldn't be bothered to stir their own. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, everyone was cheering as they left the room.
With exams over and done with, the only major event before the end of the year was Quidditch, where Gryffindor won a narrow victory against Ravenclaw, winning the Quidditch Cup and putting them back in the lead for the House Cup.
Before they knew it, it was time for the End-of-Year Great HAll was decked out in the Gryffindor colors of red and gold to celebrate Gryffindor's winning the house cup for the first time in more than seven years. The Slytherins looked none too happy about the huge banner with a towering Gryffindor lion covering the wall behind the Head Table.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…
"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; in third, Ravenclaw, with three hundred and ninety-nine; Slytherin has four hundred and seventy-two, and Gryffindor, four hundred and eighty six."
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out across the Gryffindor table. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were also cheering, mostly at the dismay of the Slytherins, whose winning streak had finally been cut out from under them. Snape was sporting a rather horrible forced smile as he shook Professor McGonagall's hand. The look he gave Harry when he caught his eye told him that, while he may not have been the one trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, he did not like Harry one bit. This didn't worry either of the cousins, though, since it seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts.
Danny wondered why he felt a sudden sense of foreboding, as though the universe had just said 'wanna bet?'
Exam results came in the day after the feast. Harry, Danny, and Ron had all gotten decent marks. Hermione, of course, scored top of the class in every subject save Defense, where Harry had had gotten top marks, and Transfiguration, where Danny was slightly more skilled. Even Neville managed to scrape through, his abysmal Potions mark balanced out by his marks in Herbology, which were nearly at Hermione's level. They had hoped that at least one of Malfoy's cronies might be thrown out for failing, or else held back a year, but sadly for them both Crabbe and Goyle had passed. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life.
And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays. Fred Weasley had hoped they had forgotten to hand them out and was disappointed. Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they sped past muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on their jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.
It took a while for everyone to disembark. A wizened old guard had them pass through the gate in twos and threes to avoid drawing attention from the Muggles by bursting out all at once.
"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "both of you - I'll send you an owl."
"Thanks," said Danny,"If the insanity at home gets to be too much, I'll be sure to send Ghost your way."
People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:
"Bye, Harry!"
"See you, Potter!"
"Still famous," said Ron, grinning at him.
"Not where I'm going, I'm hoping for a quiet summer this year." said Harry.
He, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway together, followed by Danny and Jazz.
"There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"
It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.
"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see -"
"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point."
"Looks like you've got a fan." Danny elbowed Harry.
Mrs. Weasley was standing next to Mrs. Fenton, and smiling down at them.
"Busy year?" she asked.
"Very," said Harry. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs Weasley."
"Oh, it was nothing, dear."
"Where's dad?" Danny asked.
"At home, he says he's on the verge of a breakthrough on our latest project."
"Will the house still be standing when we get back?" Jazz asked.
"Well, nothing he's working with should be dangerous."
"Parallel. Dimension." Harry said, which spurred them to get to the car rather quickly. They said their goodbyes to their friends, and quickly made their way home, where the house was, thankfully, still there and undamaged.
The children got their trunks up to their rooms and unpacked while Mrs. Fenton went to make sure her husband didn't cause any explosions, esoteric or otherwise.
Jazz had her own room, while Harry and Danny shared a bedroom. The cousins bedroom had pale blue-gray walls around the two beds, which no sported bedspreads in gryffindor colors. The ceiling was an attempt to replicate one of the facets of Hogwarts castle, specifically the charmed ceiling of the Great Hall. Rather than show the sky as it was, it was a perpetual night sky, that was nevertheless accurate. Mrs. Fenton considered it the greatest charms-work she had ever performed. She had enchanted the ceiling after catching Danny and Harry sneaking out of bed to stargaze one too many times. Another bonus of the ceiling was that, unlike London, the night sky was clear, none of the clouds or light pollution that obscured the view from the city.
Is was shortly after they had completely unpacked that the cousins heard a shout of "Eureka!"
They quickly made their way down to the lab, a basement carved out under the kitchen with magic, where the Fenton parents performed their experiments and tinkering. The cousins found their parents/guardians tinkering with some muggle appliances.
"We finally got the VHS and telly to work with magic!" Jack Fenton proudly declared.
That evening was quickly taken up by a massive movie marathon that covered about the last decade of muggle pop culture.
End of Year One.