Update: I am an airhead. I totally forgot to mention that I had InsaneScriptist's wonderful viewpoint for a few vital things in this chapter, and I totally forgot to put that here originally.
Go me.
Anyways, huge thanks to them! Cheers!
The next few weeks were an exercise in patience for Harry, but since he had someone to focus his energies on, it wasn't as taxing as it could have been. Oh, he still heard the whispering, tittering, snide commentary, and loud remarks as he made his way around the school but he kept his head high and his shoulders back as he refused to be cowed by these herbivores.
In an amusing turn of events, Kyou-chan had apparently deigned it necessary to attend his Herbology and Astronomy- both classes were held outdoorish- classes with him and she approved of Longbottom. (They had agreed to wait to switch to first names until mid-October to make sure that Harry didn't accidentally bind House Potter to House Longbottom on the off chance that the Family Magics decided to be contrary.) Professor Sinstra had been fascinated by Kyou-chan's excellent behavior, and Professor Sprout had been reluctant, but accepting when Kyou-chan only caused issues when people tried to disrupt her class.
(He'd caught both Professors slipping the little spoiled avian treats several times this past week and Longbottom had just laughed at his resigned expression.)
Miss Granger, while looking more and more isolated and lonely by the day, was stubbornly clinging to her abrasive habits and ghastly coping mechanisms and Harry could only shake his head and sigh wearily. You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink. He would remind himself firmly, because as much as he wanted to help the girl she had to want to accept his help first.
Classes themselves weren't really an issue, as Harry went over the material verbally while he ran Longbottom through his Aikido forms, as the physical movement seemed to make the boy's brain go into genius-mode or something. Though Harry could already see that Longbottom needed a different style or a different teacher, but for now they were managing as they were still at the bare basics. Not to mention Longbottom was having to learn what eight-year-olds were usually learning about reiki, and most of that was almost impossible to understand without being able to speak Japanese, and Kyou-chan had disappeared for a day or two, only to come back with a backpack full of textbooks, so there were all those things to start going through as well. (How she had carried the thing would forever mystify Harry, but he'd just worshipped her appropriately.)
Ah, well, at least they weren't bored.
Neville Longbottom would be nothing less than unrelenting.
He had been told that his entire existence hinged on a single letter, and then that letter had come- delayed by a measly eighty minutes due to a storm- his family had already written him off, had already decided that his mother, who had already sacrificed her sanity and vitality for him, was to die bearing another, better Heir because he was useless to their House.
It wasn't that he hated his House, and it wasn't like they were evil, villainous paragons of evil. They were frightened, desperate people terrified of losing their prestige, name, and lifestyle and had therefore resorted to something that they never would have thought of had the situation been any less dire.
But, after a lifetime spent cowering in a merciless, terrifying, soul-shattering storm, Neville had managed to find the sun.
Warm, bright, brilliant sunshine that danced radiantly over the broken shards of Neville's soul and made them worth something, and when he stumbled, spilled, and stuttered, he'd expect his newfound source of light to turn away from him- like everyone else always had- but Harry's green eyes would be steady and free of censure. And when Neville would get something right, there wouldn't be a sense of 'finally you dunce' just a quiet sense of 'I knew you could do it' and they would push forward without pause- Harry never questioning if Neville could handle the workload or keep up or make something of himself.
For those reasons- for Harry Potter- Neville Longbottom would be nothing less than unrelenting.
With the brutal workload they were setting, it was no wonder it took Harry a few days to figure out that they were being followed, but to Harry's defense, the stalker wasn't following them all the way to their practice room either.
It was partway into the fourth week of September before Harry decided to confront the little tag-a-long, however.
Sending Longbottom on ahead with the excuse of needing the bathroom, Harry casually backtracked down the hallway to the section that was devoid of portraits or tapestries and was ready for when the person rounded the corner- he was surprised by their identity though.
"Zabini." Harry greeted neutrally, keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of hostility.
The obviously-of-Italian-ancestry boy made sure to keep his hands visible, but he was obviously also on guard, "Potter." He greeted in an equally neutral voice.
Harry hummed, DC schedules aside he was exhausted with all the time he was putting in with Longbottom and he wasn't in the mood for mind games, "You've been following us closely for at least three days, and observing pretty closely from a distance for at least a week before that, what do you want?"
Zabini gaze Harry a heavy, assessing look, "It's your glasses." The other boy said after a few minutes of tense silence, "I rather like their accessories."
My glasses don't have any accessories except for Dr. Shamal's- Harry's lips curved into a parody of a grin, "Yes, the Flame pattern adds a nice touch, don't you think?"
Something excited flashed through Zabini's eyes, "Yes, definitely adds character, Potter. I noticed that you are abysmal in Potions. Perhaps you would enjoy a tutor?"
Technically speaking, Harry was fine in Potions, it was the teacher. On the other hand, this would give Zabini reasonable access to Harry and vice-vera, and Harry's instincts weren't screaming at him about the Slytherin. Zabini also wasn't one of the idiots who tried to throw his name, wealth, or connections around, unlike that jackass Bad Faith. The Italian was actually one of the decent ones, from what Harry had observed, the boy didn't go out of his way to be a hero but he would cause trouble for the idiots who thought it was fun to heap abuse on others if he saw an opportunity, though you had to be really observant to notice because the boy was good.
Harry's trip into Introspectionville only took a moment, "This way." Was all he said as he headed towards the room that he and Longbottom had designated as theirs.
Longbottom had given Zabini a glance and then looked to Harry, who had shrugged, and then the other boy had smiled at the newcomer and went back to work, and that had been that.
October came and the duo had firmly become a trio. Harry made the executive decision that he was going to create the Disciplinary Committee: Hogwarts Edition. Harry had then explained the issue to Zabini and Longbottom, including all the work that was going to go into creating said Committee, and they agreed to help him and so for three weeks of October, on top of everything else that they were doing, they were compiling character assessments of each and every student currently enrolled and figuring out the school's administrative/managerial system.
Seeing as how they were in England, Harry had decided that the Committee emblem would be a pictorial relief of Kyou-chan, and that the Prefects would be chosen by the Committee, as in Namimori, though the teachers could nominate so that was the easy parts taken care of at least.
Harry well and truly missed Tetsu right now as he waded through the stacks of reports that they had compiled on Hogwarts operations as Zabini and Longbottom were filling out yet more character assessments.
By what he was seeing, they would more than likely have to take over the school, like he and Kyouya had had to do with Nami-chuu, as the Board of Governors was an Oversight Committee who were improperly doing their jobs, and the faculty really had no authority other than the assignation of detentions outside of their classrooms, according to everything he had waded through thus far.
The Headmaster could make decisions wide-spectrum regarding the curriculum and the budget, but that was basically it, and while that was time consuming it was how the current Headmaster was able to hold so many other positions at once, as only the most repeat offenders were sent to him for discipline and most of the daily school operations were run through the Deputy Headmaster, or Headmistress, in this case.
The Heads of House had alarming unilateral authority to corral their students, but with the teachers being severely underpaid and overworked, the Houses were let to run wild, and Professor McGonagall held three positions. Three!
Madam Pomfrey's medical reports seemed to never make it to the proper authorities, and the Forbidden Forest held a host of animals deemed unsafe to be near pediatrics- which were children under the age of 19!- by medical professionals, and she and her predecessor had been sending those reports in since circa 1956!
Even Professor Snape- bullying bastard that he was- had lodged more than eighteen complaints about the venting in his classroom, but was always denied. Professor Sprout had repeatedly warned about cross contamination in her Greenhouses but was denied permits for more. Professor Flitwick had complained repeatedly that the Charms classroom needed to be rotated. At least twenty-seven DADA Professors had recommended a Ward Cleansing in the last 35 years, and that was just what they had managed to put together so far.
Harry groaned and let his head fall forward and connect with the wooden desk with a solid thunk. "Oh God, why?" he moaned pathetically into the wood.
His so-called allies only laughed at him, the traitorous bastards.
"Chin up, Potter." Longbottom said disgustingly cheerfully, "Just think about all the generations that you'll be saving from gross incompetence!"
Zabini snorted softly, "I think that will just make it worse, Longbottom."
"But why! Just think about all the people who will grow up and do great things because Potter went through all this shit now!"
"Longbottom." Harry sad, his voice muffled by the desk.
"Yes?"
"Shut. Up."
Zabini full-out laughed and after a short moment Longbottom joined in, Harry just groaned in misery as he went back to work.
Harry really, really missed Tetsu.
The day of Halloween was annoying.
They had Charms with the Gryffindors, and while Harry could admit that Miss Granger was being particularly abrasive that day, Weasley had crossed the line into being cruel. Harry had already had a few run-ins with Ronald Weasley, and even more with Fred and George Weasley. While he could appreciate the humor in some of what the twins did, most of the 'pranks' that they pulled were on younger students who didn't know how to reverse the spells, which did not please Harry at all.
So, while Miss Granger ran off crying, Harry rounded on Weasley and unleased a good two months' worth of pent up irritation, "What gives you the right to explode like that at her?" He growled.
"What?" Weasley asked rudely, "You don't like her either!"
Harry felt Longbottom settled at his side, and hated himself just a little for the momentary wish that it was Kyouya standing there, but he pushed the emotion aside and pressed forward, "Miss Granger is difficult to handle, I'll admit, but she was trying to help you. You had no right to be so incredibly foul to her, Mr. Weasley."
Weasley sneered, and Harry cringed at the traces of grease that lingered around the boy's mouth. Note to self: Make sure that the Committee enforces hygiene. "You think you're so much better than the rest of us, eh, Mr. 'Boy-Who-Lived'? Bet you got everything you ever wanted, waited on hand and foot, walking around in your fancy clothes with your poncy accent- betcha think you can talk down on the rest of us cause you took down You-Know-Who?"
There was a shift in the air. The tension had already been high, had already been rife with cruelty and held a sense of expectant savagery. Harry had known that he hadn't done the 'spoiled little boy' rumors any good when he was wearing the well-tailored high quality robes, and the high quality clothes that he wore when he was out of his school uniform, but he didn't care. His Papá cared about clothes and about the way he presented himself, so Harry had learned to as well, and the fabrics were soft and comfortable.
"I think," Harry said slowly, deliberately as he subtly drew himself up and deliberately relaxed his muscles as his world narrowed and sharpened and he used the voice that brooked no arguments or interruptions, "That on this very night ten years ago, my Mum and Dad did something amazing that allowed me to survive and banished the one known as the Dark Lord Voldemort-" he ignored the flinches and yelps, "and the fact that it cost them their lives is something that I live with every day. My desire to stop you from being abjectly cruel to a bossy but kindhearted girl had nothing to do with the clothes I'm wearing or the manner in which my parents died."
Harry whirled and pinned all the bystanders with his piercing gaze, "You're all party to this cruelty. Both Miss Granger's and my own. You might not have uttered the words, but you also did nothing to stop them and you could have. 'Evil triumphs when good men do nothing' remember that."
Harry gestured to Longbottom and the two spun on their heels and walked away, their backs straight and defiant despite the heated whispers that broke out behind them once they reached the end of the hallway.
Harry and Longbottom went to their room and it wasn't long afterwards that they were joined by Zabini. The boys were respectful of Harry's need for physical exercise, and so they merely went to work on organizing the Committee research while Harry went through all of the Eastern exercises that he had been taught for releasing his negativity.
Eventually he calmed, and while he would go shower, showering would mean returning to the Tower, which would certainly involve some biting to death of some herbivores at this point in time, so Harry used some hygiene charms, and went to help Zabini and Longbottom with the Committee research.
"Ok guys." Harry said several hours later, considerably calmer, "Let's get going."
"Er-" Zabini started.
Longbottom even looked wide-eyed, and lately that kid had been ridiculously Classically Rain-ish.
Harry sight and slipped his glasses into of his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to stave off his headache, "Look, I don't really want to go associate with those herbivores right now, but if we don't go then it will undermine everything that I said, and the fact that I held my temper when that brat insulted my parents' sacrifice like it was something that could be bought with money would mean nothing."
Zabini's eyes widened before they quickly took on a calculating look and Longbottom's eyes went scarily Storm-ish. I'm beginning to think that Longbottom is a Rain-Storm, and I am pretty sure that Zabini is a solid Mist, like scary Shamal-level Mist.
Longbottom and Zabini rose, and the Slytherin had a rather disturbing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, "Well, let's not disappoint." The Italian purred.
Harry was trying to remember how he and Longbottom had ended up here.
Oh, right. The Feast. Quirrell. The Troll. The Headmaster's ridiculous order, (half the fucking school was housed in the dungeons!), and once again the faculty showed their incompetence outside the classroom as the Prefects were obviously not suited for their positions if they would not listen to the fact that there was a student missing.
That was how he and Longbottom came to be standing outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, (hardly anyone ever used it, according to Miss Patil, so Miss Granger had been hiding in here all day and Myrtle had been terrorizing anyone who had come near), looking at the backside of a Troll and listening to the terrified shrieking of a young girl.
"The Committee goes live in January or bust." Harry groused irritably.
Longbottom huffed a laugh beside him, "The plan, Boss?"
Harry just groaned louder, "I hope a certain someone never hears you say that. Alright, I'm going to distract it, you get the girl and head the other direction, alright?"
Longbottom's eyes sharpened and he nodded seriously as another shriek came from the bathroom, followed by the sound of something shattering.
Harry was already irritating the Troll, "Oi! Parli italiano? 你会说意大利语? Вы говорите по-итальянски?"
"What are you saying?" Longbottom asked as the Troll started lumbering after Harry, and the Longbottom grabbed Miss Granger and started dragging her out of the bathroom.
"I basically asked if it could speak Italian in Italian, Chinese, and Russian." Harry called back cheekily as darted in the opposite direction, the Troll might be a hulking, stupid brute but its strides were much longer than his, and soon Harry was far away from Longbottom and Miss Granger, herding the Troll towards the Third Floor staircase. He put his parkour practice to good use once he caught sight of the Professors and the Headmaster headed towards the Troll as Harry was being careful to keep the view of him obscured by walls of shadows, quickly disappearing onto a nearby stairwell, and piggybacking off others to make a speedy getaway.
Harry made it back to Ravenclaw Tower, and there he was immediately assaulted by a human-shaped leech, fortunately Longbottom was kind enough to provide them with cover until Harry could maneuver them into a corner alcove, where Harry once again allowed Miss Granger to cry into his shoulder. This time, however, he shared a long-suffering look with Longbottom, who was leaning on the doorway to provide them with some privacy.
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