Ch 11 Aftermath and Discovery
Albus Dumbledore watched tentatively as the black Kneazle Hagrid had brought in twitched various appendages experimentally. The ears were the first to move, honing in on the quiet discussion of Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. The tail began to twitch and finally the eyes fluttered experimentally. After three days Dumbledore could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He'd immediately recognized the animagus form of one Harry James Potter when it was brought in, but he'd not felt comfortable revealing Harry's secret in front of so many people. Unfortunately, Harry's prolonged absence had raised questions among his peers. Naturally the whole tale had gotten out somehow and now it was well known throughout the castle that Harry had recklessly run off into the forest to save a dying unicorn where he'd been injured by some of the nastier unnamed denizens of the forest and rescued only moments before death by Dumbledore himself.
The real story was far more troubling and not one that Dumbledore understood completely. Harry had been understandably upset by the death of one of the unicorns and charged off to find and rescue it. What was unclear was to the reason he attacked and killed Professor Quirrell. Examining the man's wand Dumbledore could find no recent traces of offensive magic, meaning the man was taken by surprise. Severus had his suspicions about the true nature of Quirrell, involving the Dark Lord himself, and Dumbledore was inclined to agree. That didn't explain how or why an eleven-year-old student would be able to find and defeat a fully trained and possibly possessed wizard without further explanation. This begat all the impatient waiting. Now that it was clear the boy was waking up and that he had a penchant for getting into possibly life-threatening situations it was time to reveal the boy's secret to another. The only other he would trust at the moment was Harry's stern head of house, Minerva McGonagall.
"Albus, what's going on? Have you found Harry yet?" The stern professor asked. "I know everyone seems to think we have him, but I haven't seen him yet." Dumbledore smiled at Minerva's rapid questions. If nothing else she was doggedly, forgive the pun, protective of her students.
"Minerva, calm yourself, please. While you may not have seen young Mr. Potter he has been in our care the past three days. He's just woken up. I believe we need to ask him to reveal himself." Taking his professor's hand Dumbledore led her over to a bed with curtains drawn around it. Waving his wand the curtains opened to reveal a black Kneazle, his ears focused on them, tail gently twitching and eyes slitted against the bright candlelight illuminating the room.
"Albus, I don't understand. This was the Kneazle that Hagrid brought in Thursday evening."
"And a good thing he did Minerva. It may have well saved the boy's life. Harry," Dumbledore began.
"His name's Harry? Like my student? Is this a joke Albus?" Minerva interrupted suddenly.
"Calm yourself my dear lady. I assure you there is no joke here. His name is in fact Harry, not like your student, but as in your student. I believe we should ask Mr. Potter to show you. A picture is as they say worth a thousand words." Turning to the Kneazle, now with wide frightened green eyes, Dumbledore merely smiled and kindly said "Harry I think it's time to reveal yourself to Professor McGonagall now that you're awake." When the only response was a low growling the wizened headmaster continued, "It's for the best my boy. She can help keep your secret and help you further adjust. In addition it will be rather difficult to avoid exposing yourself to the school without some addition help. Imagine all the attention you might receive." If nothing else that clenched it. Harry really didn't enjoy any more attention than strictly needed and if revealing himself to his head of house was a way to avoid it then so he would. Besides, the old bat should understand right? She was part feline herself.
The electric tingle was barely noticeable as the Kneazle enlarged to a very tired and bedraggled-looking human Harry. The messy black hair still had tiny clumps of blood where they hadn't quite been able to clean it all out and he felt like he'd been run over by a herd of Thestrals. The gasp of shock that came from Professor McGonagall was a little confusing though. She could do the same thing, why not he?
"Albus, in all my years here I've never heard of anything so... incredible! He's a first year; he shouldn't have been able to learn the Animagus Transformation for years yet! I know that some students are able to master it early, but only by fifth or sixth year at the earliest! For all my life I've never heard of a magical animal transformation..." She trailed off, her shock finally getting the better of her speech cords.
"That is not the least remarkable aspect of the whole situation, but I can explain that further some other time. At the moment all that you need to know is that Harry is for all intents and purposes an unregistered animagus and that we will keep that secret. It may prove invaluable someday in thwarting an attempt on the boy's life from those that mean him harm." The headmaster's eyes suddenly took on a serious glint as he sat down in a conjured plush armchair and rounded on Harry, his eyes boring into the boy's. "What I need from you my boy is the entire story and truth about the night you went into the forest."
"Which one?"
"You mean you've been going into the forest on more than one occasion?" McGonagall gasped in obvious dismay.
"Well yeah. How else was I supposed to protect the Unicorns? Not just at night though, afternoons, after Quidditch practice, during History of Magic, almost anytime I can get away. Especially if Ron and Hermione are fighting. I think I've most of the place mapped out now. Except the Acromantula lair, I don't know at all about them. Maybe next year," he finished hopefully.
A nearly unreadable expression on Professor McGonagall's face led Harry to the conclusion that he must have said something wrong, but he was interrupted before he could ask. "I mean the night you were to enter for detention with Hagrid and three of your fellow students."
"Oh that night!" His eyes gleamed in recognition. "That night... I'll tell you what I remember; some of it was kind of hazy. Especially when I killed Quirrell," he said flatly.
McGonagall gasped again at his matter of fact tone. "Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore replied automatically.
"Not professing much of anything anymore. I took care of that," Harry replied smugly, his Cheshire grin covering his whole face.
"You mean you knew who he was, and you still attacked him?" Professor McGonagall asked faintly. She looked about to faint and settled for sinking deeply into a freshly-conjured plush armchair.
"Yeah, he had a cloak on and everything, but I caught a glimpse of his face right before I tore his throat out. Well, not so much tore it kind of burned now that I think about it. But I did snap his windpipe!" Harry finished brightly.
Dumbledore was completely unsure as what to make of the young boy in front of him. He was beginning to think Severus might be right. Did the years as an Animagus scramble the boy's brains so completely? He didn't see an innate darkness in the boy, not like with Voldemort as a boy, but for someone so young to speak so... gleefully about killing put him in the same field as Bellatrix Lestrange. He needed the whole story and soon, lest he condemn the boy without all information.
"Harry, perhaps you'd better start at the beginning, a good place I think. Start when you reported for detention."
"Yes sir. Well Hermione, Neville and I met Filch on the front steps..."
Harry retold the entire story so quickly and with such emotion both teachers had difficulty remaining passive. McGonagall gasped when Harry told about seeing the dead unicorn and seeing a hooded figure drink its blood and her heart nearly stopped when she realized the implications of the situation. Her eyes studied her young student and everything clicked into place. This boy wasn't normal, but he was no dark wizard. If she didn't miss her guess they were dealing with one of the most unusual and powerful cases of accidental magic in the history of Hogwarts. The boy unintentionally became a Kneazle and then learned how to change back and forth. His absolute talent for Transfiguration made much more sense now.
"And then I leaped at his face and dug my claws into his neck. I tried to tear his throat out, but my jaws weren't quite strong enough. I haven't hit my growth spurt yet... unfortunately. Instead my head felt like it was coming off and his skin blistered and burned wherever I touched him. So I locked my jaws around his windpipe and it burned it away until it was soft enough for me to jus 'pop' it out and crush it! Father would have been very proud," Harry finished with a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face.
Dumbledore felt faint. In all his years he'd never met a student so young that had such a natural affinity and acceptance of both death and killing. He hoped dearly that he could change the boy's outlook on life. He glanced over at his transfiguration professor. While she appeared stern and unyielding to the rest of the world in her many years of teaching he'd learned to read her and she seemed... curious. Not the reaction he'd expected but then Minerva always did seem to surprise him.
"Harry I have one question," Professor McGonagall began. "Who is your father? The one you talk about, your real father. Was he human or..." She finished uncertainly.
At her wide eyed curiosity Harry couldn't help but laugh. Retelling the story from the forest had brought all the memories and emotions back from that night and he felt nearly as drained now as he did then, minus the heart wrenching-fury. "No cousin, I do hope you understand now, my father was all Kneazle."
After an eternity McGonagall finally managed to shut her mouth and compose her features into something more becoming her outward facade. "You grew up as one of them? Why did you come back?"
"I'm not sure I 'came back' as you put it. I'm still undecided if this is a joke from Isis or a boon. I became human because I needed it at the time. I was being chased by a rather old Kneazle molester and I needed to work some powerful black magic."
"You didn't have your wand then... what could you have possibly done?" Did this boy have no limits? McGonagall wondered.
"Doorknobs, the bane of Kneazles everywhere. Isis did not give us thumbs so that we would not rule the world," Harry said matter-of-factly. "But yes to your original question I was born, or at least became Kneazle shortly thereafter. As to why I came to Hogwarts... I needed to make it safe for my Human. She'll be attending next year. I see this was as good a decision as I have ever made. There are far too many dangers for her to be here alone."
This was almost too much for Minerva and she sank back down into her chair once again. Seeing her distress Dumbledore took back over the conversation. "Harry, I must impress the seriousness of the situation on you. Before I explain everything to you I need to know why did you kill Professor Quirrell?"
"The son-of-a-bitch killed one of my unicorns. I'd promised them protection..." Harry wiped his eyes with the back of his dirty robes staunching the tears that were threatening to fall. "The innocent always die first. He didn't kill for food like the Acromantula, or to protect territory like Father, not even in the defence of kittens. He killed for some sick human pleasure! I don't understand you, I doubt I ever will, but I'd promised them protection and while revenge is a poor imitation it is the best I can do. I'm proud I killed him. He's truly human and the world is best rid of him." At this Harry stopped and sat up straight. "I'm proud of it professor. I'd do it again. Ferd deserved better than that." Dumbledore's old ears could barely make out something that sounded like 'only humans'.
McGonagall was almost speechless. The depth to which this boy's loyalty ran made her wonder why he wasn't in Hufflepuff with Professor Sprout. She shifted uneasily in her chair. The truth was, as disturbing as this was to hear, she sympathized with the boy.
"What is it, cousin? Cat got your tongue?" Harry said, clearly noting his professor's unease.
"Harry, you've called me cousin on numerous occasions. Why?" Of all the potential questions, this one burned the most brightly for McGonagall.
Harry's mischievous smile surfaced again. "Well, cousin," He grinned, "Kneazles and tabby's are related even if we don't want to admit it. Father told me once. We are related more closely than most; we're part of two worlds. I am a Kneazle masquerading in yours and you are a human hiding in mine, but we understand each other in a way I doubt many others could. You feel the thrill of the hunt and have the urge to explore and I'm quite sure your love of sunbeams isn't accidental. We're cousins if not by blood then by magic."
McGonagall smiled gently. The boy before her was so much wiser than his years when he could let it out. She would always wonder how different life might have been if he'd stayed human. Forcing her stern façade back in place she responded, "Cousins we may be, but while we're here I'm always Professor to you. Understood?" Harry nodded quickly.
"Minerva, I believe we may be slightly off track. I do have a few more questions for the boy before Poppy comes and removes us," Dumbledore concluded with the closest thing to a frown that Harry had ever seen the man wear.
Dumbledore didn't like doing it, but he needed to find out if there was an inner darkness to the boy. There was too much at stake for anything to be left to chance. This boy could well be the key to defeating Voldemort forever, and while he may not have realized it, if the old man's suspicions were right the black-furred boy sitting in front of him now may have done so again tonight, at least temporarily. But Albus Dumbledore would not be party in trading one dark lord for another.
"Harry, but what about what Professor Quirrell deserved? I told you before things are much more complicated on two legs than four. Didn't he deserve a trial? While his deeds are terrible there are ways of doing things here in the Wizarding world that may seem alien to you... customs that must be observed."
"Professor," Harry's voice took on a hard edge. Suddenly he was no longer the happy carefree boy that loved Quidditch and sneaking out to Hagrid's hut, but a boy who'd seen death and taken life. That much was clear to anyone who cared to look at the moment. "Do you want me to tell you what I observed? Those who harm my friends are punished. If they try to kill one, I WILL kill them first. If they do kill one I will kill them back. I've learned about your human ideas of justice, and revenge and this has nothing to do with that."
"Oh no?" Dumbledore's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline
"No, it has to do with protecting the Pride. If a dog can kill a kitten at will more dogs will come. If we kill the dog that kills our kitten it won't do it again. The world is a harsh place professor and I think I may have seen more of it than most. Death is an everyday occurrence within my world. I observed your professor drink the blood of a friend of mine. Would you be so forgiving if you had witnessed the same? What if it was one of the students? I think not." Harry closed his eyes
"Harry, it is not our place to decide life and death. I appreciate your sentiments possibly far more than you can understand but I need to know... did you feel joy in killing him? Did it make you happy? Couldn't you think of a better way?"
"Joy and happiness professor? If I think back on it there wasn't much beyond the rage."
"And now?"
"In a cold kind of way, yes, professor, I'm happy. He deserved to die and though you point out there were those more worthy to do it. I was blessed with the opportunity to defend those I care about, praise Isis, and kill a demon of a man. So am I happy, yes. I don't feel joy though. It's a cold feeling. Father told me this would happen. I'm prepared."
"Harry, none of us are truly prepared to take another's life. I hope that you never are called on again to do so."
"If that is the case, then we'll all be happy because bad things will have ceased to exist."
"Harry, I must now ask another favour of you," Dumbledore sighed. If the boy had been a cat at the moment his tail would have been twitching furiously. "You must not tell anyone about this tonight. You may have done a great thing and so helped save our world again."
"What do you mean professor? I know Quirrell was bad but how did I save anything except more unicorns?"
"Do you know what unicorn blood does Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Harry looked puzzled and shook his head side to side.
"It will save you if you are an inch from death but at a terrible cost. You will live a half life, a cursed life from the moment the blood touches your lips."
"Good, I hope that son-of-a-bitch rots in the festering dog kennels."
"I do not think it was for him alone, Harry. Can you think of anyone who might want to use that until he could gain true mortality again?"
"No, not really, maybe Professor Binns? He seems happy as a ghost though."
"Albus, you don't mean You-Know-Who?" McGonagall looked scared for the first time since Harry had ever seen her.
"Oh, you mean Voldemort?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore chuckled softly while his professor winced. "Very good Harry I'm glad you can say his name. Fear of a name increases fear of a thing itself."
"No, I just want to be clear. I never understood He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, because what if there is someone you really don't like and don't want to say their name? It makes things so troublesome."
Dumbledore chuckled again. In so many ways the boy had grown up far too quickly and others he was still the baby he'd dropped off at his Aunt's house ten years ago. "Yes, Voldemort. While Professor Snape had his suspicions that Quirrell may have been up to no good, it took your story tonight to confirm any suspicion that the late Professor Quirrell was in league with Voldemort and I believe his eventual attempt at far more nefarious activities within this castle."
"You mean stealing the Philosopher's Stone?" Harry asked.
"You know about the stone! I'm delighted. Yes Harry, stealing the Stone. Professor Snape though it was for his own selfish interests. It seems however that our good professor was possessed by our old friend Voldemort. I believe that his eventual plan was to revive himself enough to make an attempt on the stone and return to full power. We need not be worried about it in the future though."
"So he was the one that really wanted to kill the unicorns?"
"Yes, Harry, I believe he was."
"I'm going to get him then. Not today, but I will. He deserves to die... permanently."
"Harry, death and killing is not always the answer. That is what has gotten us into the place we are today. Defend those you love, yes, but don't seek out to kill independently. You have been given a fine gift, use it wisely."
"Professor, if what you told me is true and Voldemort is still alive and ready to return then it seems that not killing is what got us into the place we are today. If we let rabid dogs loose then they'll come back to bite us. That much I know."
Seeing the boy wouldn't be won over at the moment, Dumbledore and McGonagall both gently stood and with a flick of a wand vanished the conjured armchairs. "I think it is time for you to sleep. I spoke with Madam Pomfrey and she assures me you'll be out this time tomorrow."
"Can I play Quiddich? We've got our final match for coming up against Ravenclaw in a few weeks. I need to be ready!"
"I believe, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall began, "That you will be fully functional on a broom stick. I expect the fastest catch of your golden bird yet… don't let me down, cousin."
It was Harry's turn to be shocked as he watched the old witch walk briskly out of the room. His Head of House had, however tenuously, accepted their familial ties. Maybe sometime she could visit Father and Mum and all the brothers and sisters.
"What happened to the stone? Is it still here? Will he come back?" Harry asked, his mind suddenly having realised the importance of the idea.
"It seems I had made a colossal error in judgment and after speaking with the owner of the stone it has been destroyed. I doubt Voldemort will be returning to Hogwarts any time soon. Get some rest, Harry."
"Alright Professor, I do have one last question for you though."
"What might that by Harry?" Dumbledore replied quietly.
"Why did I burn Quirrell when I touched him?"
"Ah Harry, that is a very good question, and one I have only a guess at, but I believe it is related to your famous scar." Harry's hand instinctively reached up and touched the mark on his forehead. "When Voldemort came to kill you and your parents, your real parents, Harry, died to defend you. Your mother's own love for you allowed her to place herself between you and a Killing Curse and that caused the curse that was fired at you to rebound and strike Voldemort himself. You were marked with more than a scar that day my dear boy. You were marked with your mother's love. Someone like Quirrell or Voldemort who is so consumed with hate and greed cannot bear to be touched by someone marked with something so pure. I'm proud of your sacrifice if not the result of the actions. You would have made them proud."
Harry was shocked speechless. His human parents had died for him? That was something he never would have expected. Father would and so would Mum. Several of his older siblings had to protect the Pride. To know that they gave their lives for him filled him with a sense of both inner peace and an incurable guilt.
"I believe one hundred points for Gryffindor, for aiding a friend in time of need." Dumbledore quietly said as he left.
oOo
The next day Harry wished he'd stayed in the hospital wing. He had a raging headache and the sneaking suspicion he had forgotten something… EXAMS! Oh no, he'd been revising sure but Hermione was going to have a fit, which she promptly did as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast.
"Harry! Where have you been? Are you all right? We asked Professor McGonagall where you were and she wouldn't tell us! Where did you run off to? Did you study?"
"Hermione, give the bloke some time to breath, yeah?" Ron intervened. "Wait a minute! Did you just ask, after three days of us not knowing where he was if he'd studied for exams? Mental that's what that is."
Hermione's shrill voice began to rise in anticipation of an argument. "Ron! Studying is important. Not that you'd know, but our first round of exams are today! I do hope I haven't forgotten anything. Professor McGonagall's so strict. I wonder what she'll ask us to do?"
"Hermione," Harry interrupted, cutting off a very annoyed Ron. "I'm fine. I didn't study because I was unconscious. Don't worry, I'm ok now. Professor Dumbledore came and helped me out."
"But where were you?" She exclaimed.
"Unconscious. Funny thing about that, you don't tend to remember much of anything."
Hermione harrumphed irritated and said louder, "No I mean where were you, when you ran off Harry? Hagrid and I looked all over. There are a hundred different deadly things that could kill you in the forest! Why'd you run off like that?"
"Hermione, I don't know if I should tell you this…" Hermione leaned in closer to hear this incredible secret, "But I care about the well-being of animals, especially magical ones. It was a gut reaction at the time and I got lost and then woke up in hospital." Harry replied lamely.
"And that's all you remember is it?" Hermione asked skeptically.
"Yup…" Harry was trying his best to convince her, but lying never came naturally.
"Hermione lay off him. Harry has never lied to us before, why start now?" Ron said casually.
Harry felt his stomach drop into his shoes. Damn that Dumbledore, he shouldn't have to lie to his Pridemates.
"What's the first exam today?"
"Transfiguration, I think. I know you're good, but I do hope you've been studying some."
"No worries then. I've studied for that loads." All my life, Harry thought.
"Hey, our Seeker is back!" Katie Bell observed loudly. Ever since the incident with Norbert the rest of the team had only referred to him as 'Seeker' or 'the Seeker' if they had to mention him at all. Harry's head coolly swivelled to the source of the noise.
"Good, at least we should win the Quidditch match," a burly fifth year commented.
"Won't win the House Cup though, the ickle firsties took care of that," Angelina Johnson commented dully. Agreement was had all around and the initial excitement at their star player's return died down quickly. Breakfast was soon over and the great hall emptied quickly. Passing the hourglasses that recorded House points George was the first one to notice. "Hey! I think these things are defective... we're a hundred points up" Excited whispers broke out around the Gryffindors and speculative whispers passed around the other three. When someone finally asked the assembled lions, 'Hey who did that?' No one knew until a lone first year voice popped up.
"Neville, I heard, for protecting the greenhouses from another troll!" Harry's voice was quickly drowned out by the excited questions and congratulations from his housemates drowned out Neville's protestations that he didn't do anything really.
Walking away, Hermione eyed her friend with a speculative stare. "Harry, why did you lie?"
"What on earth do you mean, Hermione?" Harry said with a spring in his step.
"Neville didn't protect the green houses from a troll. He was revising an essay for Potions with us last night. And as no one else spoke up it only is logical that you're the one who gained a hundred points. Which begs the question... what did you do and why did you give the credit to Neville?"
"First, I can't tell you. Don't look at me like that… Dumbledore made me promise at least for now. Secondly he needed it more than I do."
"What do you mean, mate?" Ron asked quizzically.
"Ron, you didn't actually do anything so no one really blames you. Hermione, I'm sorry it couldn't be you but you're too visible and you have Ron and me. Neville's kind of alone and people still blame him for trying to help us."
"It was a terribly foolish thing to do, Harry," Hermione reminded him.
"And the bravest thing I've seen a Gryffindor do this year Hermione. He's going to do great things."
"Really? Neville? I have never thought of him as a great wizard really." Ron commented.
"Oh ye of little faith. You watch. He'll be there."
The exams seemed to fly by and before he knew it Harry was enjoying the last week of full freedom and the thrill of the win against Ravenclaw, catapulting Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup for the first time since Ginny's brother Charlie left. It had been a close match with Gryffindor only edging out Ravenclaw by fifty points even after Harry caught the Snitch. Unfortunately he had to apologise to Professor McGonagall for his unseemly delay. The Snitch had been craftier than it had been in the past.
"Never mind, Mr. Potter, you were a credit to your house and your heritage. You hunted a fine prey." And in that moment between his heart feeling like it would burst with pride, he swore he could almost see the feral grin of an orange tabby.
oOo
"Harry, where're you going mate? The feast is going to start in an hour," Ron queried.
Sniffing on the air Harry quickly replied "Don't worry about it Ron, dinner is going to be a few minutes late today."
"I really wish I knew how you did that Harry…"
"Simple, I have to go see Dumbledore right now and the feast won't start until he gets there," Harry grinned as Ron sighed.
"Well, get a move on, yeah? I'm hungry. By the way, did you ever find the cloak?"
Harry looked guiltily at Ron. "Yeah, it was on my bed with a note pinned to it."
"Well, what did it say, mate?"
"Just in case… Weird huh?"
"Harry, I was thinking…"
"Don't hurt yourself, Ron." Hermione said off-handedly. He shot her a venomous glare.
"ANYHOW! I was thinking maybe you should keep the Cloak. I didn't use it that much this year and with all the trouble you find I think you might need it more than I."
"Thank you, Ron. I think I will. I appreciate the gesture."
"Nothing to thank me for mate, as I said it was always yours."
"I'll see you later. Have to go meet Dumbledore," Harry finished.
Ten minutes later Harry was sitting in one of the headmaster's famously squashy armchairs awaiting some sort of stern fatherly lecture. This really was beginning to be a pattern, except that he hadn't killed anything. Why would Dumbledore want to talk to him now? Let's see… He hadn't killed anything; he hadn't run naked through the castle (he was saving that for when he got home. Damn clothes), and he hadn't had any more encounters with other demonically possessed enchanted teachers. What on earth could the old coot want to talk to him about?
"Harry, I would like to find out what your plans are for this summer," Dumbledore kindly replied.
"Well, sir, I had planned to run naked through the town just as soon as I got home. Finish my homework, visit my Human and spend the rest of the summer enjoying sunbeams, forests and family."
"Ah yes… family the most important of all. It was actually on that subject that I wished to speak with you."
"Oh? Did something happen to them sir?"
"No, no, Harry. In fact, if you did not know you actually do have a set of human relations."
"I see…" Harry said cautiously, not really sure where this was going.
"My boy, it was my intention that you grow up with them. The protection your mother's sacrifice gave you can extend even to the house of your blood relatives, but you would need to return there each summer."
"No, not on your life. My Human and real family need me."
"Harry, I don't believe you understand. While the wizards of the world are basically good there are still many that are not and they would wish to do you harm. We can keep you safe if you will move back in with your mother's relatives. I have found a way to renew the blood wards once they have lapsed but our time is short. It must be done this summer, we can't wait. Don't do disservice to your mother's sacrifice."
"Professor does the term 'lick my paw' mean anything to you?" Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe it is equivalent to a human term that Bill taught me one summer and I think it applies here. Piss off. I have a family that does need me. You couldn't find me until a magical book told you exactly where to look and even then you had a tough time. No dark and scary wizards have showed up trying to kill me and if you EVER try to use the fact of my… human parents' sacrifice as a leverage tool again I daresay you will find it extremely difficult to locate me again. Don't push, professor, I've seen and done more than most students in this school. I will be returning to Arabella's house and I will be living there." Harry then stood abruptly and strode out of the headmaster's chambers.
"Without even a 'by your leave,'" One of the old headmaster's portraits said. "How rude."
Dumbledore sighed. The Kneazle boy was more stubborn than he feared, a trait he would need later, but not now… Either way the boy was intent on returning to his feline family. He was right, though, no one could find him and if he kept a low profile it was likely that Death Eaters wouldn't find him until it was too late for them. He prayed it was so.
"Harry! Over here. You were right; they haven't started the feast yet. What'd Dumbledore want to talk to you about?"
"Ron! Don't be such a prat! Harry will tell us when he's ready," Hermione admonished. "So what did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?" Hermione sagely asked.
Ron's mouth opened and closed a few times resembling a fish out of water as he searched for something to say.
"Nothing much, just wanted to discuss my summer arrangements."
"Oh are you going back to the orphanage?" Ron asked.
"No… I'm actually going to be living with a friend of my parents. You might know her Ron."
"Oh yeah, who?"
"Arabella… Figg."
"Great Aunt Arabella? No way! Harry, you'll be practically next door! You can come over all the time and, well, assuming Mum lets you anyway. I don't think she was too chuffed about your rendition of the full monty this past summer." Ron chuckled, having evidently gotten over the weird idea of it all.
Looking around Harry noticed the decorations were distinctly green and silver. The giant snakes sent a chill up Harry's spine. "Why all the funny decorations?" He asked.
"Harry, honestly, it's the end of term feast. The House Cup gets awarded and we celebrate the house who won. This year it's Slytherin again."
"Emphasis on again, firstie," a scrawny second year sneered at Hermione. She'd been doing so well Harry thought and now he had to ruin it. Locking eyes with Ron they came to a decision. No one was bullying their friend, except maybe for Ron.
Shoulder to shoulder they stood up and walked over to the second year who was no larger than Ron and Harry spoke forcefully, "I'll thank you kindly to leave Hermione alone. I'm not in a very good mood and it seems like you're itching for a fight. You'll find there are more of us than you." Ron merely cracked his knuckles as menacingly as possible which must have worked because the offending student said nothing more.
"Thank you," Hermione whispered, now crying in earnest.
"No problem, Hermione," Ron said in a very official manner just loud enough to be heard over the loud grumble of his stomach.
Dumbledore swept into the room on a cloud of purple and stars before finally standing at his place in the professor's table. "Welcome and goodbye. We've had such an eventful year and hopefully your heads are a little bit fuller than they were at the beginning of the year. Now you can have all summer to get them nice and empty again. So… now comes the time to award the House Cup."
Harry looked on eagerly. Finally he might figure out what it all meant. "In fourth place is Hufflepuff with three hundred ten points. In third place Ravenclaw with three hundred eighty seven, in second is Gryffindor with four hundred twelve and this year's winner is Slytherin with an astonishing four hundred fifty four points. Congratulations to all of you for your hard work and perseverance." Harry watched as Draco and his friends pounded their goblets and made loud comments about the superiority of the house of snakes. The cup was a grand gold thing with stones of red, green, blue and yellow embedded throughout.
"Where do they keep that?" Ron asked, with desire dripping from each word.
"In the Head of House's office. Or so says 'Hogwarts a History'." Hermione hissed back.
The cup was presented to the seventh year prefects and Harry watched as all the Slytherins tried to touch it. There seemed to be something so fantastic about it. In the end though, Harry never found out what charm resided in the golden cup as it was soon taken away by Professor Snape, who Harry could have sworn had given him a gloating smile.
"I wonder what enchantments are on that cup," Harry mused as they were boarding the train bound for King's Cross.
"Why? You thinking about stealing it?" Ron asked much to Hermione's dismay.
"No, but there weren't any treats, or mice, or scantily clad females that popped out but everyone seemed so… enthralled!" Harry wondered aloud as he popped the last of the bag of cat treats in his mouth.
"Umm… couldn't tell you, mate." Ron had discovered that despite his friend's generally quick mind there were just some things you couldn't explain. Not that Ron would try right then. His friend was too distracted. Harry had just jumped up from the seat and stood to the right of the carriage door, when the door suddenly flew open.
Harry felt the oncoming presence of three familiar and unwelcome visitors. Standing to the right side of the door he waited for it to open which it did with much flourish. Harry's hand formed a fist and let it fly, making a painful connection with one Draco Malfoy's recently healed nose. It was going to need healing again, was Harry's thought.
The blond boy stumbled back into his two larger companions, all three wondering how the hell their arch-nemesis was waiting for them. Then the carriage door closed and locked, all without a word being uttered. How did he do that?
Harry smirked the smirk of the victorious. Sitting back in his seat he looked at Ron and Hermione's dumbfounded expressions. "Harry, did you find out what kind of marks you made on exams?" Hermione finally asked to break the tension.
"I did pretty well. Not like you of course Hermione I think you were top of everything. I even managed to squeak by in History of Magic. I can come back next year!" Harry sounded positively delighted.
"No, not best in everything Harry. You beat me in transfiguration."
"I did? Truly?" Harry asked amazed. Truth be told he'd only checked enough to make sure he wasn't being chucked out and beyond that... who cares?
"You did, Harry. How did you do it?" Hermione pleaded. He could see the desperation in her eyes, but he didn't know how to answer.
"Don't know, you might say I cheated..." And he gave a weak chuckle. Hermione looked torn between being outraged at the idea and deciding that Harry was much smarter than he let on. "Ron, c'mon let's play chess!"
After having his tail served to him no less than seven times at the sport of kings, they had arrived at the train station to find only one Mrs. Weasley waiting for them. Looking around expectantly for Arabella, Mrs. Weasley finally spoke up. "Auntie Arabella says she can't come get you today and she asked if I could. You'll be following us home for now dear."
"Thank you, Mum Weasley!" Harry exclaimed much to the surprise of all four redheaded children. "When we get there, do you think you could give this letter to Ginny? I never had a chance to mail it."
Walking with Ron towards the car Harry paid no attention to the stunned expressions of the rest of the family.
"You know, Ron, sometimes I think your family is really weird."
An: And thus concludes book 1. You know what, I lied. I will start my hiatus now but it may be slightly longer than I anticipated. Wild ride yeah? As I said earlier I will be taking a bit of a hiatus between books 1&2 but never fear I will be working steadily through. This will not be one of those chicken poo stories where I abandon it because of 'real life' feh I spit on real life. I have found that book 2 is slightly harder to write because of some of the ripple effect and the fact that Harry is changing. I don't do change all that well yet. Let me know what you think and punch that big review button! Suggestions, constructive criticism and plot ideas are always welcome. If there is a particular scene you'd love to see let me know and I'll see (no guarantees) if I can work it in.
To these things you must return- Manatoc Fox