College. Homework. Laziness. Ew.
I have two pre-written chapters; I should update this Friday.
Unbeta'd. Read with caution.
Thanks to all my followers, favoriters, reviewers, and lurkers.
Milky Way
Friday, it seemed, was the official day parents and guardians mailed their kids back.
Hundreds of owls streamed into the Great Hall. Almost of all of them dropped parcels and letters into the laps of students. Some owls had better aim than others. Harry struggled not to stare at the poor Ravenclaw, tables away. She had bits of white porridge stuck to her face and a rapidly sinking letter in her bowl.
Horus and Hedwig circled him.
Horus, Benjamin's falcon, dropped a bundle of letters in his lap. Horus turned enormous black eyes on Harry. He assessed Harry for a long moment before he took off. Harry was grateful Horus wasn't the affectionate type with nips to the ear or finger, nor did Horus steal from his plate… unlike Hedwig who helped herself to all of his ham.
She had dropped her letter in front of his plate. Harry guessed a reply was needed right away because Hedwig didn't budge from her spot in front of him. Harry ripped open the letter, surprised to see the giant-man, Hagrid, had invited him for tea. Harry remembered Hagrid's glances on his way to Hogwarts. It couldn't hurt to see why Hagrid was so fascinated with him.
He borrowed a lone quill on the table and wrote out a quick reply on the back of the letter. Hedwig yanked it out of his hand before the ink dried. She 'barked' at him before she took off.
"Would you like to have tea with me and Hagrid?" Harry asked Hermione. He scooped some of his egg on the toast.
Hermione sat across from him. She lowered the Daily Prophet–an item had been stolen; the goblins weren't happy– her eyebrows raised. Harry spent most of his breakfasts and some of his lunches at the Gryffindor table. "The Gameskeeper?"
"Is that what he is?"
Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "He invited you for tea?"
"At three, yes," Harry said. He chewed a good bit of his toast before he spoke "I'll invite Theo." He turned to the round-faced boy beside Hermione. "You can come along too, Neville."
"Isn't it rude to add more people to an invitation?" Hermione asked with a tone that implied she thought it was rude.
"The more the merrier," Harry said. "Since you don't want to be rude does that mean you aren't going?"
Hermione flushed. "I never said that."
Harry grinned. He finished the last of his toast and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Hermione cringed at him, she pushed a napkin into his hand. Harry made a show of dabbing his lips.
"We'll meet back here after class," Harry said.
Hermione nodded. Neville mumbled something under his breath. Harry twisted around, he faced the Slytherin table at the other side of the Hall. He was too happy that pointy-boy, Malfoy, was almost-always late for breakfast. He could speak to Theo without interference.
"See you in Defense," Harry said over his shoulder. He grabbed his letters and made his way to Slytherin table. Harry resisted the urge to squirm. It had been practically a week and still most of the student body goggled at him.
Harry found it strange how the Slytherin table was setup. They sat in some sort of order. From what Harry gathered, the younger students sat at the ends of the Slytherin table. The older students were situated in more extricate way. They centered around a boy, an upper-year, with a nasty smile. Harry didn't spare much thought to seating arrangements beyond that.
Happy that the younger Slytherins were approachable, Harry slid in beside a dark-skinned boy, Blaise Zabini. He offered Zabini a smile. "G'mornin' Theo."
"James Evans." Theo lifted his eyes from his cereal bowl.
The other Slytherins snickered around their breakfast. Harry blotched red. Theo was never going to let that go!
"D'you want to have tea with Hagrid, Hermione, maybe Neville, and me?" Harry asked.
Theo scooped out his spoonful of his… his… they looked like green cheerios. Did wizards eat regular cereal brand? "The Gameskeeper?"
Harry held back a groan. The way both Hermione and Theo said Hagrid's title as if it were that puzzling.
"Yes. Do you want to go or not?"
"All right."
"Great! We're meeting back he—"
"Potter, I see you've finally gathered some sense and started sucking up to your betters," Malfoy said with that irritating drawl of his. Harry clenched his fist. He stood up from the Slytherin table.
"We'll be meeting here," Harry said. He brushed passed Malfoy.
Malfoy grabbed onto the sleeve of his black robe. "I was talking to you."
Harry jerked his sleeve back. "I wasn't listening," he said coolly.
Malfoy colored. His dummies growled. Harry wasn't scared. He knew Malfoy type; he was all-talk.
"Potter!" Malfoy hissed. "My Father–"
"Go on, prove to me and everybody how much of a Daddy's boy you are," Harry said.
"Potter," a silky voice interrupted. Harry shivered. Of course, of course, Snape would appear when Malfoy needed him. Severus Snape, the Potions Professor, was quieter than the Bloody Baron and a thousand times more terrifying.
Depthless, cold black eyes locked onto Harry.
"Hogwarts does not tolerate teasing, even from celebrities." His upper lip curled. "Two points from Hufflepuff."
"But sir, Malfoy started it…"
"I have finished it. Another point off for cheek."
Harry's mouth dropped. Snape wasn't being fair! What about Malfoy, the git choked beside him struggling to hold in his giggles; why wasn't he getting punished?
"Sir." Harry ducked his head. He skittered around Snape and walked out of the Great Hall. Harry clutched his letters close. Suddenly, Hagrid's tea invitation sounded much, much more appealing. Anything to get the nasty taste of Snape and his unfairness out of his mouth.
Harry sulked on the way back to the Hufflepuff dorm room. He was the only one in his dorm room; the others back in the Great Hall. Harry was on his bed, his schoolbooks and wand jostled with his added weight. He had roughly twenty minutes before his first class.
He supposed he could go over swish-and-flick, or… he looked down at the bundle of letters in his hands. He had three sizable envelopes. A slow smile crept on Harry's face. Munchkin was written in loopy cursive on the bulkiest letter, the one addressed as Harry was written in neat print, and Nephew was the last one in elegant cursive.
He opened Munchkin first.
Harry rocked on his feet just outside the Great Hall. It was ten minutes before three. Theo had arrived before Harry did.
"Neville's not coming?" Harry asked Hermione when she arrived.
Hermione grimaced. "There was an accident in Potions; Seamus took Neville to the Hospital Wing."
Harry mirrored her. "I suppose we'll just have to fill him in." Harry sensed this would be a regular occurrence. Neville was the definition of accident-prone. Hermione nodded.
They walked, all three of them, across the vast green of the Front Lawn. Hagrid's cottage sat at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry spared an anxious glance at the Forest; it was dark and foreboding even under the brunt of the afternoon sun, Harry waited for a terrible monster to spring out.
Thankfully, no such thing happened.
Harry didn't have to knock. The door to the cottage swung open when they huddled on the worn Welcome mat. Hagrid's smiled down at them. "Come in, come in, make yerselves at home. The kettle is on— Fang, quiet down!" He pushed aside a large black hunting dog.
Harry laughed when both Theo and Hermione shot looks at him. He filed in; Harry felt absurdly small in the cottage. Everything was huge.
Fat pheasants and hams hung from the ceiling. There was a massive unmade bed in the corner with a fluffy quilt hanging at its corners. A gigantic roundtable and a couple of chairs, a big fire… the space was cluttered, Aunt Tunia would have a heart attack at the mess for sure, but it was homey.
Harry sat in one of the three chairs, which could fit three of him. Hermione shared the chair; Theo had a chair all to himself, or well, he did until Fang took a liking to him. Fang rested his black-head on Theo's leg and drooled. The only thing that stopped Harry's laughter was Theo's baleful glare.
"These are my friends," Harry introduced when Hagrid began pouring tea into their tin cups. "Neville's not here, sorry. This is Hermione." He pointed as she waved and said a polite Hello. "And Theo."
"I went ter school wit' Deimos Nott," Hagrid said gruffly.
Harry swore Theo turned pale.
Harry frowned. "Are you just a Gameskeeper?" he asked.
Hagrid turned his attention back to Harry, his face instantly shifted. "M'not jus' a Gamekeeper, I keep the cogs a turnin' in 'ogwarts." Hagrid launched into his duties, which were interesting. Hagrid apparently had powers that Dumbledore didn't have. He could walk the Forbidden Forest alone and no creature would harm him.
"Enough about me. Tell me abo' yerselves, first week done?"
Harry, Hermione, and Theo glanced amongst themselves: who would start? Eventually, Hermione and Theo pinned their eyes on Harry.
Harry rolled his eyes. Cowards.
"It's different," Harry said. "But I like it. Wednesday, I flew on a broom and it was bloody amazing!"
"Harry!" admonished Hermione.
Hagrid roared with laughter. He had the type of laugh Harry always imagined Father Christmas to have: deep, merry, and warm. Hagrid's black eyes twinkled with secret knowledge.
"Professor McGonagall isn't the type to cross," Harry said. He thought back to Tuesday and the firm scolding he and his classmates received when the bell rung. "She's cool too. I even got a few points for making my match shiny.
"My head of house, Professor Sprout, would make Aunt Tunia go mad. She's got dirt everywhere and she's so cheery until someone interrupts her lesson."
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Professor Sprout had called him out the first day of class when she caught him talking to Padma, a Ravenclaw.
"Professor Binns is a wrinkled bore."
"There are petitions ev'ry year to exorcise 'im."
Harry hoped one of those petitions went through. He'd go barmy if he had to listen to Professor Binns talk about the Goblin Wars for seven years.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts is a bit of letdown. Professor Quirrell…" Harry mulled over the right word to use for him. Dud came to mind to describe the lackluster teacher.
Hagrid scratched his scruffy beard as if he could hear Harry's thoughts. "Me understand. Always been a quiet boy, smart as a whip, but kept 'imself a lot durin' his time here and after." His thick eyebrows smushed together. "Took a year off to study th' Trolls in the Black Forest; dangerous, only dir't sunlight will stop'em." His words were pointed as if Harry would go off and attempt to something similar. "Came back diff'rent."
Different indeed.
"Snape is a nasty git. He has it out for me," Harry said suddenly.
"Harry!" Hermione said again. "Professor Snape—!"
Harry didn't want to hear Hermione come to defense for that large, greasy-haired bat. Unfortunately, Hagrid seemed to take Hermione's side.
"Nonsense," Hagrid said. He waved his hand. "Snape is a respect'd teacher, handpicked by Dumbledore 'imself."
"Dumbledore made a mistake," Harry huffed. "He called on me the first-day of class about wormwood and bezeor-whatever, and when I didn't know it he made it out like I was completely thick."
"It's bezoar, Harry," Hermione said. "And, that's normal. Professor McGonagall—"
"No. Professor McGonagall is nothing like Snape. Snape doesn't even care. He looks down from his stupid hook nose, like I'm gum under his shoe."
"Enough!" roared Hagrid.
Harry flinched back in his seat. He blinked owlishly at Hagrid. In this short time, he didn't think Hagrid would ever be the type to use such a tone against them. "I'm tellin' ye he doesn't have it out for yer."
Harry would've believed Hagrid if it wasn't for the fact that Hagrid couldn't look him in the eye. He knew it. Harry just had to figure out what he did to Snape, so the git would stop terrorizing him — at least Malfoy sorta had a reason for being horrible to him.
"… does it have something to do with me being a celebrity?" Harry mumbled. His stomach rumbled. He decided to chance it and grabbed a muffin from the center plate. It was rock-solid.
"Hagrid?" Harry managed to chip off a crumb. "D'you know why everybody stares me all the time; did something happen with my family?"
Harry gathered that much in his first week here. Most of the teachers had paused with his name on the roll. And the students, those brave enough to approach him, often started conversations with "You're Harry Potter?"
Harry supposed it wouldn't be so bad if he had famous family; maybe he'd come into some type of cool inheritance. Then, he could rub it in Malfoy's face that he was just as special as a pureblood.
"Oh Harry," Hermione said. She latched to his arm.
Harry looked at her, wondering what had prompted such a response. He glanced at Theo and was shocked to see unease. His dark eyes cast down to the table.
"Hagrid?" Harry turned to him. It was as if all the joy had been sucked out of the giant-man.
"No one told yer?"
"… told me what?"
"Merlin, Morgana, and Mordred," Hagrid heaved. He mumbled under his breath about nee'in a drink stronger than bloody tea.
"There were dark times before ye were born, very dark times." Hagrid ran thick fingers down his beard. Off in his thoughts. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—"
"Voldemort?"
Hagrid visibly winced.
"Yea, You-Know-Who was up to no good. A lot of people had to go inna hidin', includin' your parents."
Parents.
Harry's memory didn't extend far. There was Pre-Benjamin and Benjamin. Pre-Benjamin held vague, dark and uncomfortable moments like a nightmare that he couldn't quite remember. Pre-Benjamin Harry was sure he heard echoes of Uncle Vernon's taunts about his parents; they went and died in a car crash, drunk. Benjamin had Mum in his life, Mum in her portrait. Mum told him there was an accident. Mum never talked about Dad.
Hot heat roiled in Harry, he nearly told Hagrid to stop.
"Th're was a traitor!" Hagrid thundered. "And You-Know-Who had it out for yer parents… he found 'em. There's no escapin' You-Know-Who. And, they fought bravely, James forsure, but no one survives 'em, not You-Know-Who when he's usin' the Killin' Curse."
"Avada Kedavra," Theo whispered paper-thin.
"Darkest curse," Hagrid said contemptuously.
"My Mum and Dad died." Harry swallowed. "And what happened to me? How did I survive? Did Voldemort spare me?"
Hagrid shook his head. He looked at Harry with that same look hundreds gave him when he first stepped foot in Hogwarts. A look of bewildered hope, like he was a hero.
"Yer somethin' to be celebrated. You-Know-Who cast his curse and it de'lected." Harry brushed the raised scar on his forehead. "Yer killed You-Know-Who. Yer killed 'im. Nothin' but bones and dust."
"But my parents died."
Harry shook off Hermione. He stood up. "Thanks for tea."
Harry walked out of the cottage and back across the Front Lawn. He walked amongst the students of Hogwarts. He ignored the stares, the whispers, and the calls for his attention. He went straight to Hufflepuff dormitory where he shut his curtains.
It was only when he buried his head in his pillow did he realize he was crying.
Harry spent much the afternoon holed up in his bed. Ernie's persistent whines managed to get Harry out of bed before dinnertime.
Dinnertime was the absolute worst. Harry never noticed how annoying happy people were when he was feeling less than. His fork poked at his potatoes; he wasn't feeling hungry either. He frowned. Maybe he should just skip dessert.
"You're more mopey than Moaning Myrtle," Cedric said, his spoon slid down into his clam chowder. Harry shrugged. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"Rather not." Harry rolled his peas into his potatoes.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Madam Hooch came to Dinnet, our Quidditch captain, today. She said you've got real talent."
Harry's fork hovered over his plate. His eyebrows climbed. That was new bit of information. "She said that?"
Cedric nodded once. "She said you've got more talent than a lot of first-years. She said we should watch out for you."
Harry's thoughts raced. He was one of the only ones that successfully commanded his broom Up during their first lesson, and he had zero problems with hovering and coming back down.
(Harry failed to notice Cedric's triumphant smile.)
"First years can try out for the team, right?" Harry asked although he knew the answer.
"Sure!" Cedric said. "Didja see the post on the board? Tryouts next Friday afternoon, after class."
Harry nodded furiously. He had done more than see them, he marveled at the amazing artwork with people on broomsticks zooming across the page with banners to tryout.
If Madam Hooch believed in him surely that meant he actually had a chance in joining the team. Harry had roughly a week to practice before tryouts, that was plenty of time to polish his talent.
"Don't bother," Justin said. "A first-year hasn't made a Quidditch team in over a hundred years. We aren't even allowed brooms."
Harry hadn't heard him. "You said I could come to you if I needed any tips for Quidditch. Can we practice after class and this weekend?" Harry asked Cedric, starry-eyed.
"Um, sure."
"Thanks!" Harry beamed. His food disappeared and dessert appeared moments later. Harry helped himself to a large piece of treacle tart; his favorite dish by far. His head filled with broomsticks and glory.