Disclaimer: I make no claim to the rights of any characters that are owned by J.K. Rowling or Warner Bros., and make no money from this venture. This work is purely for entertainment purposes.
— CHAPTER NINE —
The Past
Harry felt a strange mingling of fear, anxiety and joy as he looked at the old man with the long silvery beard and golden, half-moon glasses. He was somewhat apprehensive about what he was going to be told. He knew, of course, that the Headmaster was going to tell him about his, Harry's, own past, yet he wasn't entirely sure what that past would be or whether he would even want to know. The man who many considered to be the greatest wizard alive, Albus Dumbledore, stood in front of Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron smiling, his blue eyes twinkling amazingly. Harry felt like he could trust this man with anything in the world.
"I trust you all had a pleasant Potions lesson?" the Headmaster asked happily as the boys snorted and Hermione cringed slightly.
"Yes, of course, sir," Harry replied without even the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice. Dumbledore gave no indication that he suspected Harry was lying.
"Fantastic. Shall we go?" Dumbledore asked, motioning in the correct direction. "I do hope that you are enjoying Hogwarts. I know I always do and likely always will."
"Oh yes, sir," Hermione said quickly as she tried to keep up with the others. "I would never have imagined such a magnificent place even existed, let alone be so awe-inspiring."
"It's great Professor," Harry said with a grin. "A lot better than staying at the Dursleys' anyway." When Harry finished talking Dumbledore seemed to look back over his shoulder, almost stopping in the middle of a corridor, the twinkle gone from his eyes.
"It may well have been good that you wanted to talk to me after all," Dumbledore said with a slightly grave tone to his voice. There was an awkward silence for a few moments. Dumbledore eventually broke the silence. "You met Hagrid on the boats, did you not?"
"I think so," Harry replied. "The big man?"
"That's him," Dumbledore said fondly. "I'm sure Hagrid would be overjoyed if you would take some time out of your busy schedule to visit him. He knew your parents well and even, I understand, knew you when you were just a baby."
"I'll make some time," Harry replied. "Maybe he can tell me stuff about my parents."
"I'm sure he has many a tale to tell you," Dumbledore said with a twitch of his moustache. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that Draco was looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Charlie knew Hagrid," Ron put in suddenly. He recognised the confused looks on their faces. "My brother. He said Hagrid really enjoyed working with creatures."
"Your brother is correct," Dumbledore replied. "Hagrid does so enjoy animals. Mostly of the dangerous kind."
He stopped suddenly in front of a pair of almost identical stone gargoyles.
"I trust you four can keep my password to yourselves?" Dumbledore asked, receiving four very eager and awestruck nods. Dumbledore looked back at the gargoyles and spoke cearly, "Mars Bar."
Harry and Hermione chuckled at this but Ron and Draco looked perplexed. What happened after the password was said was quite amazing. The wall between the gargoyles seemed to spin around until there was revealed a large spiral staircase. Dumbledore motioned for them to step on to the staircase before getting on himself.
Harry started to walk up the stairs but he felt a firm hand hold him back. He jumped slightly at the touch before turning around to see Dumbledore's smiling face and he felt a lot safer. To the four First Years' collective amazement the stairs began to move, appearing to clime upwards until they reached a door and the staircase slowed down slowly. Harry was closest to the door, so he walked through it first, seeing a second door right in front of him, however this time he waited.
As Dumbledore opened the second set of doors with nothing more than a slight push, Harry goggled at the sights within the Headmaster of Hogwarts' office. It was full of interesting and peculiar-looking objects. There were all manner of things floating around the room, a lot of books sat at odd angles on mismatched wooden bookcases and quite a number of paintings, all of which had occupants who appeared to be sleeping. There was so much around him, fighting to catch Harry's attention, but none more so than the large red and gold bird perched behind a large wooden desk on a gold-plated perch. Harry's breath appeared to have been taken away at the beauty of the bird. He soon realised that he had been staring at it for quite some time. Dumbledore seemed to notice as he went up to the bird and began stroking it lightly.
"I see you are admiring Fawkes, Harry," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "Ah, many people do so as it is extremely rare to see a phoenix so closely bonded with a human as Fawkes is with myself."
"A phoenix, sir?" Hermione asked wondrously echoing Harry's own thoughts.
"A magical creature with many magical properties, too many to list right now, in fact, but I can tell you the most well-known," Dumbledore replied. Hermione looked on with complete attention. "For one, their tears have healing powers. They can heal most anything given that their tears can reach the wound. For another, it's song is very calming and has been known to help cure some mental disorders when it sings to people with these disorders. Alas, there are some afflictions that are incurable, even for a phoenix. I learned that, myself, the hard way.
As though on cue, as Dumbledore stopped talking, Fawkes opened his beak, looked to the sky and began to sing the most wonderful song Harry, and he was certain all of his friends, had ever heard. Harry had never felt so calm and serene before in his entire life. It was as though nothing in the world could ever go wrong again. He looked over to see his friends clearly felt the same way. Draco had a particularly calm look on his face. When Fawkes finished his song after less than thirty seconds, everyone's faces fell slightly, but for some reason it was Draco that was most affected.
"Perhaps we should get started," Dumbledore said after a moment's silence. "It would not do for you to go about your life here at Hogwarts without knowing all of the facts. I am certain that at least Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy know what I am about to tell you."
Dumbledore waved his wand silently and suddenly four padded armchairs appeared out of nowhere and landed on the floor. Harry sat between Draco and Hermione while Ron sat next to Hermione on the other side.
"I think they do, Professor," Harry said, suddenly feeling quite nervous. "Draco was actually the one who told me I was famous for some reason, but he wouldn't tell me why."
"I thought someone who knew more about it would be better of telling him," Draco said. Dumbledore smiled.
"A very good idea, Mr Malfoy," he said. "What about you Miss Granger? You are Muggle-born, so you may not, but have you heard of Harry's tale before.
"Only some of it," Hermione admitted. "I overheard some older students discussing it last night."
"I thought as much," Dumbledore replied. "Even if you had heard more, it was likely distorted in the telling. All stories end up that way in the end. Though this one less than most.
"It all began in the early 1970's," Dumbledore began, as though he were reading a story to his grandchildren. Harry even felt that way, though he couldn't shake the dread and nervousness he felt. "A wizard, known as Lord Voldemort," Ron and Draco cringed at the name, and Harry looked at them, confused, but Dumbledore continued as though nothing had happened, "had begun his attempt to take over Wizarding Britain. You see, as in all societies, there are those who take a dark and evil path. Unfortunately for Britain, Voldemort," Ron and Draco cringed again, "was, arguably, to become the darkest wizard of all time. Darker even than my greatest foe, Gellert Grindelwald.
"Lord Voldemort," the two boys cringed again, "was a firm believer in a great many things, perhaps none more so than the idea of blood supremacy. In Voldemort's -" at this cringe, Dumbledore broke off speaking, a strange smile on his face.
"Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy, may I ask why, exactly, you both are cringing?" Dumbledore calmly asked the two seemingly frightened boys. Ron spoke up in barely a whisper.
"You ... you said ... his name ... You-Know-Who's name." Harry then realised that Voldemort was the wizard Draco was talking about at the feast.
"I did indeed," Dumbledore replied. "'Lord Voldemort' is the name that he goes by. I believe that it would be good for you both to attempt to not cringe any further. 'Lord Voldemort' is but a name. A mere name. Why should you be frightened of something as simple as a name?" It was Draco who spoke this time, speaking louder than Ron had.
"We know the ... stories, sir. My parents are even afraid to say his name. They call him 'The Dark Lord' but never V-V-V-Voldemort," Draco shuddered as he said the name while Dumbledore beamed. Ron cringed again.
"Good for you, Draco, if I may call you that," Draco nodded with a slight smile. "Thank you. Mr Weasley, I would very much like it if you could try to refrain from cringing at the sound of the name Voldemort. He is, so very unfortunately, an integral part of this story. As I will always say his name, you should get used to it now." Ron nodded solemnly. Harry looked at Hermione who looked just as perplexed as he did.
"Moving on, then," Dumbledore said in a more jovial voice, though it soon took a darker turn once again. "In Voldemort's opinion those with magical blood should govern all worlds, not merely their own. It was this misguided belief which led to his killings being almost always Muggles or Muggle-borns. In some cases, he would attack those that he deemed 'blood-traitors', which are half-bloods or even pure-bloods who associate themselves with Muggles or simply opposed him." Harry was shocked. "This is why his kills were almost always Muggles or Muggle-borns or, in some cases, people that were known as 'blood-traitors', which are pure-bloods who associate themselves with Muggles." Harry looked shocked.
"Kills?" he asked in a small, high-pitched voice. Dumbledore nodded gravely.
"Sadly, Harry, yes. Voldemort, over the course of about eleven years killed hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Be they Muggles or people of magical descent. It was a reign of terror that went on for far too long. Even his followers, the Death Eaters, were not immune to Voldemort's wrath."
Harry heard Draco let out a slight growl at the sound of the name of Voldemort's followers. Harry reached over and squeezed his friends forearm. Draco looked at him gratefully while Harry saw Dumbledore watch them curiously.
"You see, Harry," he continued, "Voldemort had no one. No family. No friends. No one at all. He believed that all that was needed in life was power, and he did have that, but he also did not have what he wanted."
"What was that, sir?" This time Hermione spoke up.
"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore said simply. "He wanted total control over the wizarding world and he would have gotten it had someone not stopped him." Harry and Hermione were focused intently on Dumbledore and didn't seem to notice the awed stares from Ron and Draco directed at Harry.
"Who stopped him?" Harry asked, rather enthralled by the story, as terrifying as it was.
"You did, Harry. You stopped him."
The silence in the Headmaster's office was deafening and Harry's mind was swimming with everything he had just heard. Me? he thought, wondering if Dumbledore was off his rocker. How could I have stopped him? I didn't even know about this world until a month and a half ago. After a minute, Dumbledore spoke up again.
"I need to tell you the full story, Harry," Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "You were born to Lily and James Potter on July 31st, 1980. At that time, Voldemort was experiencing his most fruitful year yet. He was very close to securing the Ministry as his own. In fact, on the very day he disappeared he had actually managed to take over Hogsmeade, the village just outside of Hogwarts, and probably would have attacked Hogwarts itself after that. There were few people left actively opposing Voldemort at that point and those that remained were considered by Voldemort to be mortal enemies and, so, were mostly in hiding. There were some of his enemies that remained, however, and for Voldemort to be truly satisfied he felt the need to eliminate the threat they posed to him." Harry didn't like where this was going and he felt his stomach drop.
"My parents were enemies of Voldemort's weren't they, Professor?" Harry asked, dreading but already knowing the answer.
Hermione gasped and grabbed Harry's hand. Harry could feel she was shaking, but then again it could have been him. He felt grateful for the touch. He needed it to get through this. Dumbledore had a very sad look in his eyes, the twinkle gone.
"Yes, Harry. I'm afraid they were," Dumbledore said. His face had fallen, and Harry had never seen the old man look so upset. "He was angered by the fact that they had escaped his grasp three separate times. So, on October 31st, 1981, Halloween, Voldemort decided to try once more to kill your parents, but he put a lot more effort in this time around. Now, Harry, here is where the stories become sketchy at best. I have been told by many of their neighbours that, when Lord Voldemort arrived at your house in Godric's Hollow, your father decided to try and head him off. Being trained as an Auror, James was one of the most capable to fight Lord Voldemort but even that wasn't enough. After some time, James was overpowered and was killed in the fight."
Hermione squeezed Harry's hand, and he looked at her to see a mixture of terror and concern on her face. Draco and Ron were both staring at the Headmaster.
"Now, from what I can gather, James must have told Lily to leave with you. Why she didn't leave the house, I don't know. Perhaps Voldemort put up an anti-Apparition field. But that is irrelevant, as she did not leave regardless. The next part of the story is more important. Lily was in your room with you when James was killed. Voldemort knew you would be inside so he went in. When he found the room in which your mother had you she tried to put up a fight and shielded you. In doing so, Voldemort killed her as well. She was found right in front of your crib."
Dumbledore stopped talking for a moment, as though he needed some time to gather his composure. It was clear that the Headmaster was affected by the story, as was Hermione, who, Harry noticed, had let two tars fall. Draco and Ron were both looking stoically forward. Harry felt his insides churn as he sat. Whether out of anger or sadness, Harry didn't know.
"After this, Voldemort looked to you," Dumbledore continued, back to his old self, as though the break had somehow reenergized him. "He looked at the face of a one-year-old child and he wanted to kill you. Harry, have you ever wondered where you got that scar?"
"Aunt Petunia told me once," Harry said in a small voice. "She said that it came from the car crash that killed my parents. Obviously she was lying to me, but I'm used to that by now."
"Well, it was most definitely not from any car crash," Dumbledore confirmed. "When Lord Voldemort attempted to kill you he used the unblockable Killing Curse and for some reason, unknown to anyone, myself included, it didn't work. It appears to have rebounded off your forehead and headed straight back towards Voldemort, destroying him in the process. Yet, you survived. You are the only person ever to have survived the Killing Curse. From that night onwards you were known as 'The Boy-Who-Lived'. You are, perhaps, the most famous person in the entire wizarding world, not just Britain. There is not a wizarding child who does not know your name or your story."
Harry tried to process everything he had just been told. His parents were both killed by the most evil man to ever have lived and Harry was the one who defeated him. It was with these thoughts that Harry realised that Hermione was still holding his hand. He looked at Hermione and saw that the tears had been wiped away from her face. When she looked at him he tried his very best to smile and she did too. No one in the room said a word for some time. When he finally began to feel a little better Harry spoke up.
"Thank you for telling me this, sir," Harry said sincerely. "I was hoping that we could talk about something else now." Harry had intended to sound confident, but he knew that it had come out soft and slightly scared. Dumbledore smiled at him and the twinkle returned to his eyes.
"Of course, Harry. Of course," Dumbledore said in a much more upbeat voice. "Perhaps you and Draco could tell me how you came to meet each other. If you don't mind my saying so, it is rather peculiar seeing you two as friends, given who your parents were."
"I very much agree with you, sir," Draco said, with a small smile on his face. "I hadn't intended to meet Harry at all. Father had told me to try and get Harry in my good graces, but I had not intended it to begin at Diagon Alley. When we met, I wanted to make Father proud. By the end of the day, I felt very differently about that. We had lunch and I can safely say it was the most important lunch I have ever had."
"I had a lunch like that myself once," Dumbledore said. "Though I was older than you are now. And much more foolish, I'm afraid."
Draco seemed to bite his lip for a moment before speaking again.
"Sir, I do have one problem that I could use your help with," he said.
"Whatever I can do, I shall," Dumbledore said curiously.
"I think that Father may disown me," Draco said quickly and ashamedly.
"Why do you say that?" Dumbledore asked, though Harry thought he already knew the answer.
"Well for one thing I'm in Gryffindor. Don't get me wrong, I really feel like it is where I should be," Draco said heading off the protests from Ron, "but Father always wanted me in Slytherin. There's also the case of the people I will be spending my time around. I think you know as well as I do, Professor, that as soon as Father finds out I hang around with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger he will not be happy at all. I mean, Hermione is Muggle-born, which is more than enough to anger him. Father is always saying that the Weasleys are blood-traitors so he won't like that. And Harry is ... well, he's Harry Potter. Now I'm beginning to see that all of these things don't matter but my father will say otherwise." Draco finished with a weak smile directed at Harry.
Dumbledore thought for a moment about what Draco had presented him and sighed.
"I am afraid that you may very well be correct about your father." Draco nodded sadly and Harry wondered how anyone could be like that. "Very well, Draco, I will take what you have said into consideration and if the worst occurs I will make sure you have somewhere to go."
Ron and Hermione then recounted how they met Harry and Hermione even detailed their trip to what they were now calling the Slytherin Compartment. Dumbledore told them that there was not really anything he could do to them as they were not at school at the time but he advised them to stay away from the Slytherin group, and that they could come to him if something further happened. After a discussion about the wizarding world in general, more for Hermione and Harry's benefit than anything else, Dumbledore looked gravely at Harry.
"Harry, earlier you mentioned something about your family. I would like to hear anything you want to say about them right now, if you please. If you want your friends may leave –" Dumbledore spoke in a serious voice before Harry cut him off.
"No, Professor, they can stay. As you said, they're my friends and I trust them," Harry said with a crooked smile at all three of his friends.
"Okay Harry. I will respect your decision. But I really do need to know about your aunt and uncle, and even your cousin," Professor Dumbledore said seriously with absolutely no twinkle in his eye.
"Dudley's not so bad anymore," Harry said. "Honestly, you'd be surprised to see the changes ever since he heard I was a wizard. He used to be the main problem I had at the Dursleys', if I'm being honest. Mostly just punches and kicks, but it happened a lot. I just got used to it."
"You shouldn't have had to," Dumbledore said. "Continue. What about your Aunt and Uncle?"
"It's them I blame," Harry said. "They're always saying that they never actually wanted me. I mean, they never hit me like Dudley did. I don't think they'd have dared. Always afraid of what the neighbours would say. They did look away often enough, though."
Harry turned around in the chair so that his neck was facing Dumbledore and pulled his hair back, revealing a mark at the top of his neck slightly on the right side.
"Dudley put a poisonous spider in my bed one night," Harry said. Harry saw Ron suddenly look horrified. "His idea of a joke, I suppose. Usually I'm good with spiders, actually. Not this one, I'm afraid."
Hermione gasped and Harry felt fingers on the mark on the back of his neck, which he assumed were Dumbledore's.
"My Aunt and Uncle didn't believe me, of course," Harry said, trying his best to be flippant. This had all taken place such a long time ago that he had no reason to be upset about it anymore. "Actually, I think they were angry at me for getting blood on their sheets. It wasn't until I actually passed out that they phoned an ambulance." Noticing Ron and Draco's questioning looks, he explained further. "A Muggle ... healing vehicle, I suppose. Takes you to a hospital. Luckily, they got me there in time. Much later and I'd have died the doctor said. I think I was six when that happened." He let his hair fall back down and turned back around. Ron and Draco were looking at Harry with an odd look, while Hermione just looked shocked. Harry thought he could see sadness in Dumbledore's face.
"Why were you used to spiders?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry raised his eyebrows.
"My room used to have heaps of them," Harry told him. "I just got used to them, I suppose. They're nice enough, really."
Dumbledore looked at Harry questioningly, but Harry didn't know what the question was, and so he kept quiet.
"Did anything else happen?" Dumbledore asked after a moment. Harry wondered for a moment if he should say, but eventually decided that he could trust Dumbledore if no one else. He pulled his left pants leg up to his knee.
"This one was when Dudley stole a knife from the drawer where they're kept," he said, pointing out a long, thin scar. "I think Aunt Petunia might have seen him with it. I was just sitting on the grass when he came at me. She didn't do anything until he was cutting into my leg." Hermione gasped again. "Luckily it wasn't too deep. She managed to wrap it up, but complained that I ruined a perfectly good knife. I think that was when I was eight years old."
Harry let his pants leg down and looked up at Dumbledore who was looking sombre.
"Why did he do that?" Ron asked suddenly. "Your cousin, I mean. People don't just do that."
"He told me, actually," Harry said. "He reckons it's because his parents made him scared of me. They always used to get angry with him for being nice to me. In the end, he just figured being nasty was easier. I don't think he's all that bad."
"He cut you Harry," Hermione said softly. "That's pretty bad."
"I suppose," Harry said. "But he's changed. I swear he has."
"If you say so," Hermione said warily.
"There's one more thing," Harry said quickly after this. For a moment, he had questioned whether or not he should show them, but he had decided it was for the best.
Harry took off his robes and put them on the back of the chair he had sat in. Slowly he lifted off his shirt up to reveal a very skinny body. He felt good that no one could see his back at that point.
"Did they even feed you?" Hermione demanded.
"I think I'm just naturally skinny, actually," Harry said.
"Your father was exceptionally skinny as well," Dumbledore confirmed. "Go on, Harry."
Harry turned around and heard Dumbledore, Draco and Ron draw in breaths almost simultaneously. Hermione actually let out a sob.
"Oh, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly.
Harry knew the scars were bad but he had never really been able to see them himself. Must be worse than I thought, Harry mused silently. Harry could feel fingers tracing his back as they had done his neck and wasn't sure whose they were but he didn't really care.
"Aunt Petunia wanted Dudley to learn how to ride a horse, for whatever reason," Harry said quickly, putting his shirt on. "They went all out, like usual. Bought him everything he needed. Including a whip. At first, I don't think Dudley realised he could use that on anything other than a horse. Then he started to hit things around the house. Blamed it on me, of course. Then when I confronted him about it, stupid of me but I was only nine, he just started trying to hit me. Got a few hits in before he really lashed me on the back. I think Uncle Vernon heard me screaming because he stopped it. The damage was done, though. It was the only time I ever saw Dudley get in trouble, actually. I think they were tired of Dudley doing things that forced them to get help for me."
Dumbledore had a look in his eyes that would have made Harry cower if he hadn't have known that he was angry at the Dursleys. He looked at Harry and spoke in a strangely emotionless tone. "Is that all they did, Harry?"
"Pretty much, yeah," Harry replied quickly. "I mean, I'd get punished for things that weren't really my fault, but they never actually hurt me. Well, Aunt Petunia does hit me on the back of the head from time to time, but never too hard."
Dumbledore looked upset more than anything else. The others were all looking at him as though they were shocked that he exists. Harry noticed that Hermione was affected the most, and there were tears on her face. He walked over to her and put an arm around her. Immediately she grabbed him around the shoulders and rested her head on his shoulder. Harry felt odd as he had never comforted a girl before.
"And you are certain that your cousin has changed?" Dumbledore asked sadly. "He wouldn't do these things again?"
"No, he wouldn't," Harry said. "I'm sure of it."
"I think I can trust your judgment on this matter then Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, "But what about your aunt and uncle?"
"Oh, as long as Dudley likes me, they won't touch me. Their Ickle Duddikins is an angel so what he wants, he gets." The last sentence was said so sarcastically everyone laughed, even Hermione who was still leaning on Harry's shoulder.
"Okay Harry," Dumbledore said, seeming to calm down. "Once more, I feel I must I trust your judgment. You know them better than I, though I still believe that I will have a talk with your Petunia and Vernon. I daresay there will be several people who will wish to join me when that day comes," Dumbledore said sadly. "I am afraid I must apologise to you, Harry."
Harry looked up in surprise, as did the others.
"Why is that?" Harry asked and Dumbledore looked at him guiltily.
"Ten years ago, after Voldemort had killed your parents, I had Hagrid go and pick you up from your house. He then took you to Number 4 Privet Drive where I was awaiting his arrival. When he got there, I left you on the front porch with a note telling your Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon what had happened. I felt that you needed to grow up in a Muggle household, away from our world, being who you are." The old man stopped for a moment before continuing. "Now I find out how they treated you. I expected love and I got hatred. I should have listened to Minerva." Dumbledore's voice sounded like he was almost pleading.
"Minerva, Professor?" Harry asked quizzically.
"Professor McGonagall, Harry," Dumbledore explained. "She took it upon herself to watch the Dursleys during the day before you were to live with them in order to find out what they were like and she told me that I shouldn't leave you with them. I know now I should have listened to her."
"Professor, you couldn't have known what they were like. They try their hardest not to show who they really are," Harry said, trying to reassure the older man. Hermione let go of Harry and sunk back into her chair. "I know you were doing what you thought was right and I don't blame you at all."
"I caused this, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I could have sent you somewhere else, but I insisted you be sent to them. Forgiveness is, I know from experience, hard to give."
"You didn't make these things happen, sir," Harry said with a smile. "It was all Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. It wasn't even Dudley's fault, really. They made him that way. But it's all fine now. As long as Dudley remains friendly, they will remain bearable. You shouldn't blame yourself. Blame them, like I do." Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled yet again.
"If you say so, Harry," he said, sounding much better than he had moments before. "I believe I will. Thank you for alleviating an old man's conscience. But I must ask of you one thing," Dumbledore said looking intently into Harry's green eyes.
"Anything, Professor," Harry replied.
"Professor McGonagall needs to know of this Harry. She is your Head of House and she did try to look out for you when you were a baby. But the only thing I would wish of you, is to tell her yourself," Dumbledore said gravely.
"That's fine," Harry replied after a moment. "Can you get her now? I would rather get this over and done with so I can get some sleep. I'm feeling a bit tired." There were three murmurs of agreement from his friends and Dumbledore nodded.
"I can go and get her now," Dumbledore said. He then proceeded to look at Hermione, Draco and Ron. "Do you still want to be here when Harry goes through this with Professor McGonagall?"
Harry looked at his three friends hoping they would stay. His hope was not misguided as Dumbledore received three nods before walking to the fireplace in his office. He quickly threw some powder in the fire, causing it to change to an emerald green, and stepped right into the fire. Harry and Hermione gasped but Draco and Ron were calm. Another wizarding thing I guess.
"Hogwarts, Deputy Headmistress' Office," Dumbledore said and the flames leapt up. When the flames died back down, he had disappeared, much to Harry's amazement. He didn't have much time to be amazed, however, as Hermione looked at him.
"Oh, Harry it's all so horrible. How did you turn out so nice?" she asked quietly.
"To be honest, Hermione, I have no idea," Harry said after a moment. "I guess I just don't want anyone to feel like I've felt. It won't happen anymore though. I mean, Dudley's being nice. And I've got you three. I never really had friends before. Thank you all for being here." Draco looked at him and nodded.
"You're welcome Harry," he said. "Thanks for sharing this all with me." Harry nodded and looked at Ron who was beginning to talk.
"You know, Harry, before today I always thought you would have had the best possible life," he said slowly, as though trying to find the right words. "I mean you are the Boy Who Lived after all. I dunno. I'm not good at this stuff." Harry laughed.
"I get it, don't worry," he said.
No one said a thing for another five minutes while they waited for Dumbledore to bring back Professor McGonagall.
When the time finally came and Professor McGonagall stepped out of the fire, she scanned the room looking concerned.
"What has happened?" she asked no one in particular and got no response. It wasn't until Dumbledore stepped through that she got her answers.
It took a few minutes for Harry to go through everything, and by the end of it all Professor McGonagall actually swore, causing Hermione to gasp loudly and say, "Such language! And from a teacher!" Harry chuckled at that and even Hermione smiled.
Once Harry had his shirt back down, Professor McGonagall leaned against a nearby wall, her eyes making her look like a crazy woman and her hand clutching at her heart. Dumbledore then went on to explain the predicament with the Dursleys.
Professor McGonagall told them to skip dinner and that she would send food to their dorms with them. She also decided that, due to Hermione's emotional state, she would allow her to sleep in the boy's dormitory for one night only, though she was extremely reluctant and it took Dumbledore himself telling her it would be fine for her to let it happen. She told them that an extra bed would be made up next to Harry.
Oddly enough, when Harry finally slept that night, it was completely dreamless.
