Chapter 29

Disappointed when he'd first received his timetable, Harry spent almost the entire week eagerly awaiting Thursday when he'd have, what he had decided would be, his two favourite lessons of the year; double Potions with Severus and Defence Against the Dark Arts with Remus.

The potions lesson, whilst enjoyable, was the same as ever with Harry and Hermione, not wanting to disappoint their uncle, both brewing up almost perfect potions and Severus swooping around the classroom breathing down his students' necks and shouting at Neville. Defence Against the Dark Arts, however, was an entirely different matter. As soon as Remus entered the classroom on Thursday afternoon, he told them to put their books away, take their wands out, and follow him. Excited by the prospect of a practical lesson, the entire class leapt to their feet and hurried after Remus who led them to the door of the staffroom, which he opened with a flick of his wand before taking a step back and telling the class to enter.

The class trouped into the room, which was empty except for one teacher; Severus was sitting in one of the low chairs, watching as the class filed in.

"Leave that door open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He got to his feet and strode to the door, putting his hand on the handle before turning around and once again surveying the class. "It is possible that no one has warned you, Professor, but when it comes to this class I would not expect too much."

"And why is that?" Remus asked, looking slightly confused as he frowned at Severus.

"Well, Lupin, I really have nothing good to say about this class, but I think you'll soon find that the main problems stem from that group." Severus gestured lazily at Harry and his friends and sniffed disdainfully.

"There's the two little ring leaders, Longbottom and Potter. Longbottom over there is incompetent- he makes a disaster out of even the simplest potions, and I'm sure you already know Potter by reputation- exceedingly arrogant, impetuous, attention seeking, impertinent... well the list could go on. And then there are the four devotees, Miss Granger-the know-it-all, Thomas and Finnegan- the poor simpletons seem to hang off Potter's every word, and then there's Weasley- well I think his name speaks for itself." With a final, slightly pained glare at Harry, Severus wrenched open the door and strode out of the room, letting it slam shut behind him.

Harry ground his teeth together, furious with his uncle; of course, it was imperative that Severus pretended to hate him to keep his cover, but there was absolutely no need for him to publicly humiliate his friends as well.

Wincing, he glanced quickly over at Ron who was flushed and shaking with suppressed rage. Running a hand through his hair, Harry put his other hand on Ron's shoulder and said, "Sorry about that, mate; that was way out of order, I'll have a word with him about it."

Ron nodded, though not looking any less annoyed, and Harry turned back to Remus who had begun telling the class about a boggart which was hiding in an old wardrobe in the corner of the room. After teaching the class the charm to repel boggarts, Remus ordered them to make a line in front of the wardrobe so that they could take turns facing it.

Harry slid into line behind Hermione, who had her eyes closed and was taking deep calming breaths. As Remus opened the wardrobe door, Neville ducked out of the line, and pale faced, rushed across the room, where he had a hurried, whispered conversation with Remus who patted him, sympathetically on the shoulder and gestured for him to sit on one of the chairs out of the way.

Harry watched as each of his classmates took turns to step forwards and face their fears. Harry was unsurprised by most of the forms people's boggart took; for example, several people were afraid of snakes, and as Ron stepped forward, the boggart turned into a spider almost as large as Aunt Petunia's refrigerator. After several seconds, in which Ron stood rigid, staring, terrified, at the spider he pointed his wand at the giant spider and shouted, 'Riddikulus!' Immediately, the spider's legs vanished and it fell flat on the ground, rolling around madly.

Seamus stepped up after Ron and the boggart morphed into the shape of a man Harry recognized immediately as Voldemort, or rather, the young Tom Riddle they had met in the Chamber of Secrets. Riddle smirked at Seamus and took a step forward, shifting slightly so that his robes moved, revealing the small black diary he had tucked under his arm.

Gritting his teeth, Seamus pointed his wand at the boggart Riddle and shouted, 'Riddikulus!'

Riddle's diary immediately burst into flames and the old Hogwarts robes Riddle was wearing vanished with a pop to be replaced by a pink tutu and leotard. Eyes wide, Seamus took a step backwards, met Harry's eyes and whispered, "I bet that's exactly what you had to wear for ballet."

Harry aimed a punch at his friend's arm. "A tutu? You're bloody kidding?"

Seamus grinned and stood on his tiptoes with his hands held high over his head. "Am I doing it right?"

"No," Harry said crossing his arms, "you're not."

Shaking his head, Seamus made his way to the seats at the back of the classroom where those who had faced the boggart were sitting, waiting to quiz him on the identity of the man in the tutu.

After Seamus, Hermione stepped forward, almost as soon as she did the boggart vanished. For a second, Harry thought that Hermione had somehow, inadvertently destroyed the boggart, and then he felt it. Hermione was standing so still he could have mistaken her for a statue but that wasn't what had him so worried. Harry could feel a flood of panic flowing though the bond from Hermione. The surge of panic and agitation coming from her in such intense and overwhelming waves was so staggering that Harry felt his knees buckle at the mental strain.

Gritting his teeth, Harry closed his eyes and tried to force his way into Hermione's mind through the bond. Concentrating solely on letting Hermione's emotions wash over him, Harry tried to feel what she did, allowing his mind, for the first time ever, to fully merge with hers. He felt a jolt in his stomach and the world began to spin.

Once everything had righted itself, Harry opened his eyes. He was in a clean, white room, which though well lit seemed disturbingly dark. Somehow, Harry wasn't entirely sure how, he had entered Hermione's mind, just as she had done to him in their second year. It felt very strange, he was still himself and could see everything he had been able to see before he had entered Hermione's mind, but it was through a thin layer of mist, which seemed to be overlaid by what Hermione was seeing.

His mind, though still his own, was filled with Hermione's thoughts, memories, and feelings. Harry knew, of course, that Hermione was terrified of being alone but feeling it from her perspective was particularly overwhelming. The isolation was so smothering that his insides, or rather Hermione's insides, physically ached. It wasn't simply the absence of other people that was causing him pain, but the feeling of drowning; the feeling of complete, all consuming, solitude and the knowledge that it was all her fault. Outrageous thoughts swirled in Harry's head, thought's that weren't his own:

'If only I'd tried harder to make friends',

'What would have happened if I hadn't flaunted my intelligence?'

'Would people like me if I was prettier or friendlier?'

Hermione's thoughts seemed to be getting louder and more aggressive and Harry tried to force his way back out of her mind.

Hermione was hurting and he couldn't help whilst he was trapped. The swirling thoughts seemed to be dragging Harry deeper and deeper into Hermione's mind and though he tried to focus on being himself, his own thoughts and insecurities, he couldn't find a way out.

Before he could even begin trying to work out another way to remove himself from Hermione's mind the madness stopped, everything was suddenly very clear. There was an echoing shout, 'Riddikulus!' It sounded as though he himself was speaking, whilst at the same time hearing it from a distance.

Harry felt the grip Hermione's mind had on him loosen, and he managed to wrench himself back and fully return to his own body and thoughts. Although, as usual, he could feel Hermione's thoughts in the back of his mind, they were no longer so smothering that he could barely think for himself.

As before he'd entered her mind, Hermione was standing in front of him, wand out and facing the wardrobe; only now, where the boggart had been, he, Harry, was standing smiling at Hermione, enrobed in light with his hands outstretched towards her.

Harry frowned, confused, and took a step closer to Hermione, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm-I'm your... anti-boggart?" He whispered in her ear.

Hermione turned around and through tears, she beamed at him. "You're the first one who came and took away the loneliness; even when you didn't like me, you were still there for me."

Harry smiled and pulled her close to him, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "You don't need to worry about being lonely, Hermione, I'll always be there for you."

She smiled and pulled Harry into a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you, Harry." She let go, took a step back, and still smiling, made her way to the back of the classroom, where Lavender and Parvati were sitting together, whispering rather loudly about what it mean for Harry to be Hermione's anti-boggart and how Harry had just kissed her. Harry was fairly certain that by dinner everyone would have heard about how Harry Potter had kissed Hermione Granger in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Pulling out his wand, Harry took a step forwards to face his boggart. He didn't have any idea of what it would turn into but felt that he would be prepared to face it whatever it was.

The boggart-Harry smiled at him and with a loud crack changed shape, taking the form of Hermione. The Hermione-boggart was lying out, dead and pale, on the staffroom floor, bleeding heavily from several deep lacerations, which wound around her body, arms, and neck. Harry realized what he was seeing almost as soon as the boggart had changed form; it was what would have happened to Hermione if he hadn't been able to save her when they'd faced Quirrell.

As the endless stream of blood poured from the slit in Hermione's throat, Harry felt his head spin, he didn't even realize that a body could hold so much blood, and yet, it kept coming, pooling around her head and staining her hair red. Maybe that was part of what the boggart did, making what frightened Harry the most all the more horrible.

Harry pulled up the left hand sleeve of his robes and looked down at the jagged scar; that was all that it had taken to save Hermione so how could she be there now. He'd saved her; maybe he could do it again if he tried his hardest. Surely there was a way for magic to save her.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered.

There was a low murmuring from behind him, but Harry couldn't take his eyes off Hermione. Someone put a hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it off, shaking his head.

Forcing himself to remember where he was, Harry closed his eyes, what he was seeing wasn't real, it was just a boggart, a manifestation of his worst fears. He tried to think of something funny, something he could use to repel the boggart.

Taking hold of the first thing he thought of, the time that he'd fallen into the Longbottom's moat, Harry held up his wand and shouted, 'Riddikulus!'

Crack, the boggart's form shifted but instead of becoming funny it morphed into the shape of another body. Harry was sure he felt his heart stop as the new body appeared before him. This time the body was Dudley's. From the appearance of the corpse, Harry concluded that his brother, or at least the boggart's imitation of his brother, had drowned. The Dudley-boggart's eyes were wide open and glassy and there was a fine foam around his mouth and nose. His lips were tinged a bluish colour and his skin had become so thin that his veins could be seen clearly.

Horrified, Harry recoiled away from the boggart, and feeling his eyes begin to sting, he pointed his wand at the corpse and without thinking shouted, 'Riddikulus'

Dudley's body morphed into Aunt Petunia's. She looked so peaceful that Harry would have believed that she was sleeping if not for the eerie paleness of her skin, and the small, shining dagger protruding from her chest.

'Riddikulus'

Aunt Petunia vanished to be replaced by a corpse, which, though headless, was unmistakably Uncle Vernon. There was so much blood that Harry felt his head spin. So terrified at what would come next, Harry pointed his wand at the boggart, but couldn't bring himself to say the spell. Harry wanted, needed, to get away from Uncle Vernon's body but daren't even think about what would come next, Severus, Seamus, Neville, Dean, Ron...

Harry felt a hand wrap around his arm as he was pulled away from the boggart. Looking up, he saw Remus, leading him to the edge of the staffroom where Neville was sitting alone.

"Harry, are you all right?" Remus knelt down and frowned at Harry in concern.

"I-I couldn't make it funny." Harry put his hands up to run them through his hair, frantically wrapping his fingers around the long strands, trying to force himself to stop shaking. "I just c-couldn't do it." Harry looked pleadingly up at his father's best friend; he must understand how he felt, how could anyone possibly male losing the ones you loved more than anyone else in the world funny?

"I understand perfectly, Harry." Remus said, resting his hand fatherly on Harry's shoulder. "You should have told me, I would have let you sit out."

"I didn't know- I didn't realise." Harry looked up to see the entire class watching him as Hermione crossed the room to sit by his side.

Feeling his eyes begin to sting, Harry looked down at the floor under the guise of examining his shoes so that the class wouldn't see if he began crying. Harry felt Hermione squeeze his hand and heard her say in very high-pitched voice, "Do you mind if we leave, Professor? You can give any homework for us to Ron."

"I think that would be a good idea. Neville, would you mind accompanying them?" Remus said standing up and looking around the classroom.

Harry looked up to see Neville nod and stand up. With the entire class' eyes on their backs Hermione, Neville, and a still shaken Harry crossed the room and left the staffroom.

As they walked, Harry suddenly began to feel very foolish. His reaction had probably seemed rather ridiculous to the rest of the class, Hermione and Vernon's corpses may have been disturbingly ghastly; nevertheless, Harry's reaction had certainly been out of proportion. After all, all he'd really faced was a boggart imitating a corpse, and he was supposed to be Harry Potter, the boy who had singlehandedly defeated Voldemort.

Soon enough, they found themselves taking the familiar route back up to Gryffindor Tower. As they approached the Fat Lady's portrait Harry turned to Neville. "C-can I ask you something?"

Neville raised an eyebrow. "You're going to ask why I sat out, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded feeling slightly sheepish, maybe Severus had been half right about his friends; at the moment, Neville did seem much more like the leader of the group. "Did it have something to do with the form your boggart would take?"

Neville nodded wearily. "Yes."

"Wh-" Harry began to ask.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Neville sighed loudly. "She's what frightens me the most, and like you, I don't know how I can make her funny."

"Of course." Harry nodded sheepishly, feeling slightly rude for asking such a personal question.

"Seamus's boggart- that was Tom Riddle wasn't it?" Hermione asked as they reached the portrait hole. "Fortuna Major."

"Yes, but did you see the diary? I think that was what he was most afraid of." Neville said as the Fat Lady's portrait swung open and he climbed through the portrait hole.

"I was thinking the same thing." Harry said with a nod. "I mean if Voldemort's attacking me, I'm still going to be frightened whether he's wearing a dress or not. And what with his nightmares, I imagine the diary's frightening because of what was in it."

Neville smiled. "That's what's so frightening about Bellatrix, all the things she's done and what she can still do, but even then I can't really set her on fire."

"I don't know- if I had the chance..." Harry said slowly.

Neville shook his head. "You know? I don't think you would."

"It's nothing less than she deserves, Voldemort too, after what they've done- being set on fire is too good a fate for them." Harry said, walking ahead of Neville as they made their way up the spiral staircase to their dormitory.

"Even so..."

"In my opinion, when it comes to that family – the Blacks – they should all be shoved on a bonfire and left to burn." Harry said venomously as he pushed open the dormitory door, the images of Hermione, Vernon, Dudley, and Petunia swirling around in his mind. "They're all evil, the lot of 'em."

"I don't think you'd kill Black, despite everything he's done I don't think you could." Neville said, glancing up at Harry's expression and hastily adding. "That's not a bad thing; I don't think there are many people I could say that about."

"You're wrong." Harry shook his head. "You saw what forms my boggart took; I'd do anything – and I do mean anything – to prevent that from happening."

"There's a difference between revenge and defence, you're not the type of person to take revenge."

Harry felt suddenly very angry; Neville was wrong, he had far too much faith in Harry. Harry found himself disgusted that he wasn't as good a person as Neville, after seeing his boggart and thinking about his parents there was nothing he would like more than to destroy Sirius Black for what he'd done. "I'm learning defensive magic so I can track down and kill Sirius Black, tell me that's not revenge."

"You're learning defensive magic so you can protect Hermione and your family." Neville said slowly, glancing over at Hermione who was sitting on the end of Harry's bed, stroking Cosmo.

Harry frowned and shook his head but said nothing.

"You showed me your notes on the spells you want to learn the other day." Neville said, taking his books out of his school bag and stacking them neatly in his trunk.

"Yeah, but what does that prove?"

"The first spell on that list – the list of spells you want to learn which you put in order of priority – is the shield charm. That's defensive magic not offensive."

Harry shook his head angrily. "Sirius Black will pay for betraying my parents."

"You're not denying it, Harry." Neville smiled.

Harry picked up a thick cloak and draped it over his arm. "Are either of you coming to walk Cosmo?"

Neville grimaced but stood up anyway. "Yeah, all right then, you training tonight?"

"Of course, especially after what happened in defence- I won't let any of that happen in real life." Harry said darkly.

"Maybe you could teach me that shield charm?" Neville asked hopefully as he collected his own winter cloak.

"Yeah." Harry said nodding and smiling at Neville. "I bet you'll be good at it."

Harry glanced over at Hermione who was still sitting with Cosmo, and realized that in his anguish over the form his boggart had taken, he'd almost completely forgotten about Hermione and her own boggart.

Harry crossed the room and glanced over at Neville, who had busied himself searching through his trunk for the pair of trainers his grandmother had bought him in Muggle London.

"Hermione, I... accidentally fell into your head when you were fighting the boggart." Harry whispered.

Hermione glanced up at him, and arching an eyebrow in curiosity, asked, "And?"

Chewing on his lower lip, Harry sat down on the bead and smiled sheepishly. "Don't get mad, but I heard some of your thoughts, well more like your absurd insecurities."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath and pursed her lips, still stroking Cosmo. "And which of my 'absurd insecurities' did you hear, Harry?"

"Just three and I thought you ought to know that you're wrong."

"Wrong, am I?" Hermione asked, and though her voice was still light she seemed to be stroking Cosmo's fur with much more ferocity.

Harry nodded. "Yes, you are."

Hermione looked as though she was about to start crying. "You had no right to look at my thoughts, Harry."

"I had no choice, you stepped up to face the boggart and... a tidal wave of emotions hit me."

"So you think my fear of being alone is 'absurd' then?" Hermione all but growled at him.

"What? No! Of course not." Harry really couldn't understand how girls had an innate ability to twist even the simplest of statements and make them rude and offensive; did they just like to think people hated them? Even with his unique insight into Hermione's mind, Harry wondered if he would ever actually be able to understand girls.

"So how am I wrong?"

"Well..." Harry said, picking his words very carefully so that Hermione wouldn't explode at him. "You have a pretty good fear- very rational, but I think the reasons you gave yourself for being alone weren't good. Like the not being pretty thing and flaunting your intelligence."

"Are you really trying to tell me that you don't think I flaunt my intelligence?" Hermione asked, still looking very annoyed at Harry.

Harry was really struggling to understand why Hermione was so desperate to prove to him that she was such a hateable figure. "Well, you do..." Hermione's eyes narrowed and Harry wondered if she would be annoyed at him whatever he said. "But in a good way."

"In a good way." Hermione scoffed. "How can my being an insufferable know-it-all, as Malfoy so kindly words it, be, in any way, good?"

"Because it makes you, you. You're amazingly clever and you don't try and hide it like other girls might, you should be proud of being so clever- hold your head up high."

"What, so they can laugh at my face?" Hermione said, looking down, her eyes beginning to water.

"Why would they laugh at your face?" Harry asked frowning.

"Because I'm ugly, everyone thinks so."

"You're kidding?" Harry asked, shocked.

"No, haven't you heard Pansy Parkinson talking about it in the corridors?"

Harry snorted. "You don't actually believe what she says do you? That ugly cow, she's got a face like a pug."

"It doesn't mean she doesn't know what she's talking about."

Harry shifted on the bed and put his hand under Hermione's chin. "You're beautiful, Hermione."

"No, I'm not, look at my teeth and hair, I'm a mess!" Hermione said, her voice shrill.

"There's nothing wrong with your teeth, and your hair is perfectly fine. You have wonderful eyes and a beautiful face, and one day everyone else is going to be able to see what I can, and then me and Dudley are going to have a bunch of boys to beat up for looking at you too long."

OOOOO

As the weeks wore on and the end of October neared, Harry found himself struggling to cope with his heavy workload. Oliver Wood had the Gryffindor Quidditch team out on the field three times a week, Harry had only just mastered the shield charm, and to top it all off, Harry still had no idea what Professor Vector was talking about in Arithmancy, despite all of the extra homework she was giving him.

Harry was both annoyed and thankful about Severus keeping him from visiting Hogsmeade. He had really liked the idea of going on an official trip to the village; however, the day of the visit would also be the first Saturday since coming back to Hogwarts that Wood wouldn't expect him to be down on the Quidditch pitch at the crack of dawn.

On the morning of the Hogsmeade visit, Harry stayed in bed until Hermione woke him at ten. Once Harry had gotten dressed, he and Hermione made their way down into the Gryffindor common room and, avoiding Colin Creevey, they headed out through portrait hole.

Hermione was leading them in the direction of the owlery to send a letter to Dudley when a voice called, "Harry? Hermione? What're you doing? Where are your friends?"

At the sound of the voice Harry turned around very quickly, coming face to face with Remus. "Hogsmeade," Harry said, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, "we weren't allowed to go because of Sirius Black."

Remus nodded. "Well, if you've got nothing else to do, how about the two of you come in for a cup of tea? You can tell me about your first week back." He stepped back and held the office door wide for Harry and Hermione.

Harry looked at Hermione who nodded, and taking hold of Harry's hand, dragged him into the office after Remus.

"Ooh, is that a Grindylow?" Asked Hermione, letting go of Harry's hand and crossing the office to inspect a rather large tank, in which sat a strange green creature with little brown horns and long thin fingers.

"Ah, yes, well done, Hermione, ten points to Gryffindor; we'll be studying them next lesson." Remus picked up a small dusty tin from his desk and turned to Harry, his eyes twinkling. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid — but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?"

"So you've heard?" Harry asked with a small smile as Remus tapped the kettle with his wand.

"Professor McGonagall told me and I must say I'm rather impressed by your lack of fear." Remus said, pulling out three chipped teacups and setting them out on his desk.

"Why, you don't believe all that stuff do you? I mean, like I said to McGonagall, there are plenty of people out there wanting to kill me and I'm best off worrying about that, than I am some big black dog."

Remus' eyes widened a fraction. "Big black dog?"

Hermione nodded, still standing next to the tank and watching the Grindylow with great interest. "Professor Trelawney saw the Grim in Harry's teacup."

Rubbing his chin, Remus took a deep breath, sighed and asked, "You haven't seen... a Grim have you, Harry?"

For a second, Harry thought about telling Remus about Cosmo who, at that minute, was in Hogsmeade with Neville, Seamus, Ron, and Dean.

"No." Harry lied, glancing up at Hermione and feeling awful for lying to Remus. "Why, you don't believe that the Grim is actually a death omen do you?"

Remus seemed rather relieved by the news that Harry had not seen a Grim, but despite this, Harry promised himself that he'd tell Remus about Cosmo at the end of the year when they were planning on asking Aunt Helen if they could keep the dog.

"No." Remus said, focusing on pouring hot water into the mugs. "But it is better to be safe than sorry."

Harry nodded and accepted the mug that Remus offered him. Taking a sip of the tea Harry frowned, thinking of their first defence lesson and looked up. "Moo- uh, Professor, I wanted to ask you about boggarts."

Remus lowered his cup and watched Harry in interest. "Yes?"

"Is there another way to get rid of them? I mean there's no way I could make what I saw funny, or even better, like Hermione did. I mean, I almost forgot it was a boggart, and then when I did, I was frightened of what it would turn into next, which I suppose is what it wants." Harry said, glancing up at Hermione who had rested her hand on his and was smiling at him.

"Well, Harry, what you are forgetting is that the charm I taught in class only forces the boggart to assume a more amusing shape, it does not drive them away- only laughter can do that."

"So all I need to do is laugh?" Harry asked.

"The laughter needs to be true- only genuine laughter can drive away a boggart." Remus said, nodding.

Hermione had just begun asking Remus about the Grindylow in the corner when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in." Remus called, looking up.

The door opened, and in came Severus, who was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly. He smiled when he saw Harry and Hermione, and said, "Well, I am pleased to see that the two of you haven't decided to sneak out into the village."

"Us? Sneak?" Harry gasped in mock indignation. "Uncle Sev, I'm hurt!"

Severus narrowed his eyes and set the goblet down on the desk. "Your potion, Remus."

Harry grinned, sitting upright in his seat and trying to get a better view of the potion. "Not slipping poor Moony a love potion are you, Uncle Sev?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively.

If possible, Severus's eyes narrowed further and Hermione groaned and elbowed Harry in the ribs. "Could you be any more irritating, Harry? That potion is quite clearly the Wolfsbane Potion, look at the blue smoke." She said, almost disapprovingly.

"Wow, you can brew Wolfsbane?" Harry looked up admiringly at his uncle. "That's supposed to be one of the hardest, did it take you long? What are the key ingredients? We looked into it and the only information I could find, even in 'Moste Potente Potions', was aconite, obviously, and hellebore syrup."

Severus glanced at Harry. "Do you really believe me to be so incapable so as to be unable to brew a simple Wolfsbane potion."

"Simple?" Harry repeated. "You are kidding; everything I've read says that you shouldn't even attempt to brew if it you haven't qualified as a Potions Master."

"Am I not qualified enough, Harry?" Severus asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you are, like, one of only four Potions Masters in the country, but even so, it said that it's very difficult." Harry said.

"Yes, well, I am not an incompetent Potions Master." Severus smiled proudly. "I didn't become the youngest ever Hogwarts Potions Master because I like children."

"Yeah," Harry nodded gravely. "Merlin forbid you become a teacher because you actually like children, bloody weird that would be."

Grinding his teeth, Severus swatted Harry with the back of his hand, hissed, "Language!" and looked up at Remus. "You'll have to drink it quickly if you want it to take full effect before the change takes you." He then turned to Hermione and smiled. "Well, I am impressed that you managed to keep him from sneaking out of the school, by the time you're of age they'll have to give you an Order of Merlin just for spending a decade bonded to Harry; Merlin knows you'd deserve it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Did you know, Severus, that I actually have real fans, people who would actually want to be bonded to me, just because they admire me so very much."

"And yet, you know none who would willingly be bonded to the real you and not our little 'boy hero'." Severus said dryly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just 'cause people are stupid enough to obsess over a thirteen-year-old that they don't actually know doesn't make me any less a hero. I might not be who they think I am, and I mightn't have done all that heroic stuff, but the point is that in their heads I'm this awesome super hero and that's all a hero is, anyway. I'm just what people perceive me to be and nothing I say is going to change anything. I met this girl in Diagon Alley once and she'd got it into her head that I'd defeated a dragon when I was eight, and some bloke in the Leaky Cauldron thought I was a direct descendant of Merlin's. I bet you never guessed how hard it can be having ill-informed fans."

Severus frowned. "Don't, ever, join the Wizengamot, Harry. You'll find yourself getting halfway through an debate and changing your argument entirely."

Harry groaned. "No, I meant that in everyone's heads I'm a hero, and so those people don't ever know me anyway because they already think they know me, but not me, they think they know Harry Potter, who isn't me- well, sort of."

"That's just something you'll have to learn to deal with," Remus said, patting him on the shoulder and watching him pityingly. "I doubt many people would understand, anyway. I have had to live with the condemnation of being a werewolf, people either think of me as the wolf or pity me, and though it seems strange, I would liken what you are going through to lycanthropy. People either know you as 'the-boy-who-lived' or they pity what you have gone through. Very few people have the honour of knowing the person you truly are."

"I really wish I was just a normal boy." Harry said with a sigh. "But at the same time, I don't, I mean what would have happened if Sirius Black hadn't betrayed my mum and dad and I'd never met Voldemort?" Severus wrinkled his name as Harry said 'Voldemort' but otherwise no one reacted, which at Hogwarts was rather unusual. "Look at Neville, and Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, and all the people who were killed, would they still be alive now?"

Remus smiled fondly. "And that's why you really are a true hero; that level of unselfishness is rarely found outside of Hufflepuff house."

Hermione beamed proudly at Harry. "Sometimes I think Harry would make a perfect Hufflepuff, he is very Gryffindor, but like a true Hufflepuff should be, Harry is kind, loving, loyal, non-judgemental, and hardworking. In fact, the only Hufflepuff trait Harry doesn't possess is modesty, a word which unfortunately, Harry has never learnt the meaning of."

Both Severus and Remus said as one, "Just like his father." Severus sounded almost disdainful whilst Remus sounded rather nostalgic.

Remus and Severus both glanced at each other, almost stunned that they'd actually agreed about something. Both men chuckled uneasily but Harry felt suddenly very sick as a horrible thought struck him. He hadn't actually been sorted. Hermione was right, he was very Hufflepuff-ish, even Neville had said as much after he'd failed when facing his boggart.

How could he even be sure he actually fitted into Gryffindor, after all he was a Parselmouth, maybe that meant he had more Slytherin tendencies than Gryffindor. All the sorting hat had said was that he should go where Hermione had, and whilst at the time Harry had been fairly happy with it, thinking back on it now, Harry wasn't sure that he was any more. Maybe he wasn't a real Gryffindor.

Glancing down at his red and gold Gryffindor tie, Harry couldn't help but wonder if he actually had any right to be wearing it; after all, he was only a Gryffindor by default.


AN: Sorry for taking so long for updating, thanks to everyone who has stuck with my story so far, and thanks to by beta Bitch Goddess.