Chapter 28: Restitution


Author's Note: 04/22/19 was a double post. Make sure you read the last chapter before continuing.


Days until Christmas: 4

Thursday Morning

Minerva heard a quiet tap at her office door at 7:00 am.

"Come in, Harry," she said.

He entered, shuffling in and closing the door behind him. At least he was punctual, unlike most students who came to her office in the morning. However, this was probably because he'd been awake since 5:00 am, which was when he'd contacted her to ask for a meeting.

He approached her desk, his hands holding a pen and paper. His eyes were downcast.

"What can I do for you, Harry?" she asked.

He lifted his head, stiffening as if preparing for a bracing wind, and said, "I've come to apologize."

She blinked. "For what, exactly?"

His mouth twisted bitterly, but he continued. "I apologize for how I acted in your class when I made the huge beaker of water. I'm sorry for using my apology to you as a way to get out of trouble, rather than being sincere. I'm sorry for assisting the Weasleys with making love potions, since I was too scared of losing our partnership to do the right thing. I'm sorry for every time I've been an annoyance to you, for whatever reason. Did I miss anything?"

Minerva sat there, her jaw dropping, but she couldn't seem to move. After a moment, she cleared her throat, "Not that I can recall."

He held out the paper, and Minerva took it. Along the top, he had written "Plaintiff" and "Restitution." He took a breath, held his head high, and said, "You may write on there anything you think I deserve for punishment."

Minerva set the paper down. "Harry, I'm not going to punish you. That has already been taken care of."

She still felt a little guilty about using Mad Eye, but it looked like it had the desired effect. Yet Harry wouldn't accept the paper back. "Please write something. It will set a good example for the others."

"Others?" she asked in disbelief. "Harry, what are you going to do with this?"

He looked down, his voice bitter. "I have to fix things before leaving Hogwarts today."

Minerva observed Harry, who was clearly uncomfortable with this situation, yet was still humbling himself in front of her. She could only think of one person who could prompt Harry to do this, and he must have messed up pretty badly if this was his solution. Normally, she wouldn't dare punish a student twice, but in this one case, she would make an exception. "You have one day of detention," she said. "To be observed with me after break."

After writing it down, she gave the paper back to Harry, who looked it over and nodded. "Very well, then. I accept. Thank you, Professor."

"Harry," she said, as he turned to go. "You'd better hurry. The train is leaving at noon today."


Neville had woken up early for Leaving Day breakfast, and was just heading down when Harry found him.

"Neville, please wait," said Harry. "I need to talk to you."

"What about?" asked Neville, who was a little apprehensive. When Harry was this keyed up, he usually wanted something from Neville, and he'd hoped to make it to the end of the year without any more plots.

"Remember that time I took you up in the air on the broomstick and almost dropped you? Well, I wanted to give you a formal, sincere apology for that. I also wanted to apologize for that time I broke your charmed item, because I can't remember if I did yet."

He hadn't, but Neville hadn't realized that until just now. "Okay, Harry, that's fine. Water under the bridge."

"Also…umm…there was the time I accidentally revealed secret information to you, and then memory charmed you afterwards. It was just the one time, and only because it was necessary, but I didn't even ask, really, so…I'm sorry."

Neville should have been surprised, and maybe a little mad, but this was just something he'd come to expect with Harry. "Alright. Thank you for telling me."

Harry handed Neville the paper, and he looked down at it. Harry clicked the pen and gave it to him. "Write down a suitable punishment for me beside your name, please."

Neville was silent a long moment.

"I feel like this is the time to tell you," said Neville quietly. "I was the one who stole your Star Wars figurines. And then I sat on them and they got smashed. Sorry."

Harry gave Neville a carefully controlled blank look. "It's…fine. Just write, quickly, I have more people to talk to."


"Ha. I never thought I would see the day," said Ginny, leaning back with a grin. "So, you're finally apologizing to me?"

"Yes. I'm sorry for not being more considerate of your emotional state when I Apparated you to the wilderness. I'm sorry."

Harry stood in front of her in the Great Hall, facing the Gryffindor table. He didn't really want to do this in front of everyone, but he figured he'd be apologizing to the majority of the 5th years sooner or later, so it didn't matter much.

Ginny turned to Romilda, who sat beside her. "I don't know, how should I punish him?"

Romilda grinned. "One of your signature hexes, maybe? You could try out the new one."

She shook her head. "No, I could do that without his permission. This has to be something good." Ginny tilted her head, finger grazing her lip. "I've been thinking that I could use your help with something. Do you have political aspirations?"

"No, not really."

"Oh, good. I'm planning to be the next Minister of Magic," said Ginny. "I'm glad I won't have to worry about having you as an opponent."

Harry appraised her. He realized that it might not have been by chance that Ginny was best friends with Susan Bones, the niece of the Head of the Wizengamot, and Romilda Vane, a future reporter for the Daily Prophet.

"Go for it," said Harry. "And I suppose your platform will be how to hex young girls?"

Ginny smiled. "Of course not. I'm only hexing the ones who break the rules. When I become Minister of Magic, I'm going to make sweeping changes, and I'll need the support of influential people. Can I count on your vote?"

"Umm…" said Harry. "It says in the rules at the top of the page that the punishment can only affect me negatively. Like, for example, you can hex me, but you can't ask me to hex someone else. So, I can't in good conscience commit to supporting you until I'm certain I wouldn't be promoting a tyrant. But if I do agree with your policies, then rest assured, I'll be voting for you anyway."

Ginny frowned, biting her lip. "Alright, then. How about this? Since you had me do something to assist with your experiments, then how about you assist me with a monetary donation?"

"That falls under the same umbrella as voting would, but also there's a 'no asking for money' clause in the rules."

"Let me see that paper," said Ginny, grabbing it from Harry's hand. She and Romilda poured over it together, a few other Gryffindors looking on. Dean and Seamus had switched seats to be closer to the action.

Ginny sighed in frustration. "Your rules are so particular. They rule out all the actually useful stuff." She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to kiss you."

"What?" balked Harry.

"You heard me," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulders. "I'm writing it down now. I want one kiss, and not a peck on the lips either. Kiss me like you mean it."

Romilda was snickering, and a few other Gryffindors were elbowing each other and laughing. Harry frantically wracked his brain to find a way out of this, but it actually wasn't against the rules. He hadn't thought, he honestly hadn't even considered that he would need a "no kissing" clause.

Ginny stood up, grinning. "Well, get over here, Harry."

"Now?" he asked, backing up into the wall.

She nodded once, decisively, and the Hufflepuffs had turned around to see what the commotion was about. A few of the Gryffindors were whistling and egging Harry on. Someone started singing "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid, and others joined in.

Harry had never felt so much shame as when he walked around to the other side of the table, the Gryffindors whooping and hollering, and he could tell by the noise that even the Ravenclaws and Slytherins were in on it now. This had to be the worst, the absolute worst thing—

There was one thing left to save him. "Wait, Ginny, what about Boris?"

He had a suspicion that Boris had lied to Hermione about breaking up with her, but his hopes were dashed when Ginny rolled her eyes. "I dumped him hours ago. He's a lying cheater, and I'm done with him."

Harry did not like the look in her eyes.

"I hope you're not plotting revenge," said Harry. "She didn't know, honestly."

Ginny sighed, looking a little irritated. "Fine. But only if you're halfway decent." She put her arms around his waist, pulling him close, and Harry—who was already sweating and probably looked a mess and had he even brushed his teeth?—went for it before he could psych himself out.

After the longest, most stressful ten seconds of Harry's life, he broke free of the kiss. Ginny stumbled back, coughing, then mimed putting a finger down her throat. "Uggh, were you trying to punish me?"

The next thing he heard was laughter. Harry felt an ugly knot of humiliation in his stomach, but he shoved it down. "It was a sincere apology, Ginny," he said, his voice somehow coming out level. "I hope my social embarrassment was everything you hoped for, or at least enough to compensate for the unpleasant sensation."

The laughter escalated, while Ginny didn't even bother to look at him. Swallowing, Harry turned and walked out of the room, shouldering past Dean and Seamus when they tried to talk to him. Stumbling into the hallway, he found a corner and hid there for a while.


"Say I'm better at dueling than you," said Roger Davis.

"You're better at dueling than me," said Harry, without much emotion.

Roger sat on the Ravenclaw couch, irritated at Harry's lack of consternation. He'd come to Roger around 10:00 am and said he was there to apologize, and Roger had gleefully rubbed his hands at the chance to make Harry eat some serious crow. But it looked like someone else had already taken all the fight out of Harry, which wasn't fair.

"By the way," said Roger. "I was the one who jinxed your closet. Now say I'm smarter than you."

Harry's eyebrows moved up slightly, which was a start. "Did you really?"

"Yup."

"How?"

"Not telling," said Roger, smugly. "Now tell me how you stole my secret, and don't leave anything out."

Harry sighed, long and loud. "I put a listening device in your clothes, and then spied on your conversation with Cho Chang. I only went to such lengths because my first attempt failed, though I can't tell you what strategy I used for this part."

Roger had thought long and hard on how Harry had done it. He had a theory, but to test it, he would need to make sure that Harry didn't find out he was a Legilimens. As he was thinking this, he watched the boy blink just a little before his gaze turned inward, presumably hiding his thoughts.

Gotcha.

Roger grinned. "Very well then. Now say I'm smarter than you."

Harry grit his teeth. "You're…you're…" He stopped.

Roger's smug grin widened. But then, Cho Chang came in through the portrait door, and Roger decided it was time to be diplomatic. "Now, now, Harry, don't strain yourself, I was only kidding. Now, for my final request, I'd like you to please apologize to Cho Chang for how you treated her."

Harry turned to Cho Chang, his eyes softening. Roger also turned to look, and saw Cho Chang's eyes were red.

"Cho!" cried Roger, leaping to his feet. "What's wrong?"

"Oh? Nothing," she said, with a sad smile. "It's silly, I'm just crying because Cedric gave me a gift and…I don't know..."

It hurt, hearing her talk about him, but he kept the concerned look on his face. "Okay, well, I'm glad nothing's wrong. If you ever need me, you know…"

She smiled—he couldn't help but think out of pity—and turned to Harry. "So, I'm next?"

"Err…yeah," said Harry. "Sorry about getting you involved in a plot with Roger."

She half-shrugged. "It's okay. I was upset when I found out, but it's fine now. Just don't do it again."

"Okay," said Harry, his eyes shifting to new students who'd entered the room. "Hey Anthony, Michael, I've come to-"

"Apologize?" chuckled Anthony, plopping on the couch. "Yeah, we heard."

"Everyone did," said Michael. "What'd ya do to us, Harry?"

"Uhh…I don't actually remember, but I know you were involved in one of my plots. I'll just write your names here." He glanced around the room. "And yours too, Terry."

"Don't worry," said Terry. "If it was the 4th year, it doesn't count."

"Besides," said Michael. "As long as you didn't hurt anybody, we know you probably had a good reason."

A conflicted look crossed Harry's face, and now Roger wished he was a real Legilimens so he knew what Harry was thinking.

"Well, uhh…" said Harry. "I'll just write the names here and let me know if you think of anything later."


At 10:30 that morning, Harry rushed outside. He could have turned back time to make it easier on himself, but he didn't want to relive any of this morning.

He didn't discover until it was almost too late that the visiting students were departing before the Hogwarts train. Many of his classmates were outside, waving them off, but Harry didn't see Hermione. He'd heard that the Aurors and their trainees wouldn't leave until the evening, anyway.

It wasn't hard to spot Boris Krum, though, due to the tidal wave of cheers that his presence caused. Harry wondered how many of Krum's adoring fans knew he was a terrible person and just didn't care.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He couldn't go dark in front of Boris. If he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from trying to Accio his spleen. If Harry had the option, he would have put this confrontation off forever or until both of them were old, like 35, when Harry was a successful scientist and Boris was a washed out old Quidditch player.

Steeling himself and thinking peaceful thoughts, Harry approached Boris. "Hello."

Boris didn't acknowledge his presence. Instead, he waved to his fans, accepted a cup of hot cocoa, but did not drink it. He nodded at their protestations of eternal love and devotion, and their declarations of how much they'd miss him. Then, he threw his half-eaten doughnut into their midst, and they scrambled after it. Leaving them in chaos, Boris vanished the cocoa, stuck his hands in his pockets and walked with smooth strides over to Harry.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. "Umm…"

Boris folded his arms, waiting. He knew what Harry was going to say.

"I'm—ssssss…"

Boris raised an eyebrow. "Should I call Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry sighed. Just bite the bullet, pretend you're saying something else. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't hear you," said Boris.

Harry was going to murder his face off. He was going to—

I'm surrounded by a calm, peaceful night sky, with the moon, stars, and the soothing song of the planets.

"I'm sorry," Harry said a little louder.

"For what, exactly?" said Boris. "And let me see that paper."

Harry, with the grace of a robot, handed him the paper. Boris read over it, his lips quirking at some of the lines. Later, after all this was over, Harry was going to let the murdering begin.

In the calmest voice he could, which still sounded dark, Harry said, "I'm sorry for spying on you, punching you in the face, and trying to blind you."

Boris's expression revealed nothing, but Harry was hoping he'd shocked him. Yes, it was me, I was the one who did that to you. Scared yet?

Harry thought of Hermione crying in fear, and his mind went blank.

After a long moment, Boris handed back the paper, "It's fine. I will give no punishment."

Harry slowly took the paper. "Are you…sure?"

Boris nodded. "You helped me, actually."

"I…did?"

Boris smiled. "Besides, in the end, you'll get what's coming to you, whether it's by my hand or not."

"So…" said Harry, not sure if that meant Karma or some ominous warning. Almost by reflex, Harry cast Legilimens, but Boris's gaze revealed nothing.

"Goodbye," said Boris, inclining his head. "See you next year."


Thursday, 11:15 am

Hermione sat on the floor of Tonks' room, surrounded by tissues and two empty boxes of Oreos. A book lay open in front of her. The title was, Anger Management: A Practical Guide. It wasn't helping her understand what happened as much as she hoped it would, but it did take her mind off her anxiety.

Last night, she'd spent hours huddled in the library, buried in a pile of books. Some incessant part of her brain had told her she would find something here to help Harry. But even as she read, she struggled to focus, her body tensing at every noise.

Tonks came to find her 1:00 am, at which point she burst into tears.

Hermione went with Tonks and cried for a while, eating Oreos and talking and trying to figure out what went wrong. And Tonks, who was the best friend ever, didn't say "I told you so" even once. She listened, and hugged her, and let her sleep beside her in bed.

Tonks had some leaving day duties scheduled for the morning, but she'd let Hermione stay in her private room. When Tonks came back with breakfast, she told Hermione that something weird happened at the Great Hall, and Harry was running around with a paper and following people's orders. Hermione was almost relieved to hear that Harry was causing chaos. Some part of her had feared Harry was just going to stay evil forever.

The door opened, and Tonks slid in without opening it all the way, shutting it behind her. She stood there, leaning against the door. "So, Harry is being a pest."

"What? Why?"

"He said he wants to see you. He said he's willing to wait until you are ready, but he won't leave the hallway. Hogwarts students are supposed to be boarding the train right now, and he said he doesn't care if he misses it."

Hermione stood up. "How does he…" She swallowed. "Is he angry? Sad?"

Tonks glanced at the ceiling. "Uhh…I think he seemed more exhausted than anything." Tonks looked at Hermione for a moment, then said gently. "What do you want me to tell him?"

Hermione walked to the door, looking out through the peephole. She could see him sitting on the floor, one hand rubbing his forehead, the other holding a crumpled piece of paper. When she pulled away from the door, she realized she was shaking again, and she couldn't figure out why.

"I can make him leave," said Tonks. "I can tell him you'll think about talking to him after Christmas."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I want to see him now."

She moved for the door, but Tonks stopped her. "Wait here. I need to talk to him first. I'll send him inside after."

Hermione watched as Tonks went outside, stood over Harry and delivered her message. She couldn't hear through the doorway, but Hermione could guess that it was a big sister type of speech. Something like, "If you hurt her, I'll take your bones out, break them, and put them back in the wrong places." Tonks had suggested that last night, actually, before admitting that would be too much work for someone like him.

Harry, who was standing now, lowered his head and nodded. He didn't look angry anymore. He actually looked slightly relieved the more Tonks spoke to him, as if he wanted her to yell at him. After a few moments, Tonks came towards her, Harry following. Hermione backed away from the door as Tonks opened it.

"I'll give you a few minutes," said Tonks to Harry. "But remember what I said." She turned to Hermione. "I'll be just outside."

Tonks left, and Harry pushed open the door, not closing it behind him.

They stared at each other in silence.

Hermione wanted to speak, but her throat squeezed down her words. She had spent the whole morning running over and over what she would say, but her mind went blank now that he was here.

"I'm—" Harry faltered, his voice catching. He swallowed, looked away, let out a shuddering breath. Finally, he turned back. "I'm here to apologize."

"Okay," said Hermione softly.

"You probably are really mad at me, and you have every right to be. It's okay if you want to be mad at me for all of Christmas break and January, or however long you want to be. In fact, I don't care what you want me to do, I'll accept any punishment. I have a list, umm, actually, and you can write it down."

"Wait…what?"

Harry extended the crumpled list, with columns filled with names of her classmates. His eyes were timid, fearful, and his speech was very fast.

"I spent the morning trying to apologize to everyone. To prove to you that I'm really sorry, and not just pretending to be. Anyone can say they are sorry, but I wanted you to know I mean it not just this time, but forever, that I'm sorry and won't ever do it again."

Hermione scanned the list, and saw that he had the names of most of Ravenclaw, Ginny Weasley, Marguerite Valentine, and several younger students on there. Some had given him punishments, others had left theirs blank. Hermione's eyes stopped when she saw Boris Krum as the very last. His space was blank, too.

"You did this…just for me?" said Hermione.

"Yes, but…not only for you. I had this idea for a long time, and I didn't understand why I couldn't do it until now." He hesitated, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I expected that people would like the chance to take their revenge on the Boy Who Lived. They would want to get something in return for what I took. If someone came to me with a list, I would at least consider how to use it to my advantage, even if I wasn't upset about what they did to me."

Harry frowned, his gaze introspective. "Some of the people did write a punishment, but most didn't. They told me to forget about it. They thought I was being silly, but they didn't want anything more than an apology, and I realized that there's something wrong with me." Harry looked at Hermione. "I don't relate to people in the normal way. I use them, even people I consider my friends. If I manipulated them, or hurt their feelings, it didn't matter as long as I thought it was justified. But these people, they see me as a friend. As an equal. And I…I don't. It was only after I hurt you that I could even find the motivation to apologize to anyone else."

Harry paused, and then said softly, "I don't know how to change this about myself. I don't even know how to start. But I wanted to tell you, so that you know not to take a single thing I said to you yesterday as having any merit whatsoever. I don't have the right to judge you, or to force you to do anything. What I said and did was terrible, wrong, and I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry for accusing you, and hurting you, and calling you names. I'm sorry for making you feel scared." His voice caught. "I'm sorry for making you cry."

He stopped talking, rooted in place at the sight of tears slipping down Hermione's cheeks. She brushed them away.

"I'm…I'm sorry," he said again, his voice hoarse. "Please don't be scared of me. You can hate me for a little while, but please not forever. I—I don't know what I'd do if you didn't forgive me." He hesitated, struggling with his next words, then said, "Even though I'll…try my best to understand, and give you space…if you don't want to."

Hermione didn't say anything, and she could see his face starting to crumble, waiting on pins and needles to be rejected. Hermione looked at his list again, where her name resided at the very top. She felt his eyes on her as she hesitated over "Restitution."

She thought of casting Incendio, burning the list to ashes. It would help alleviate his guilt, and prove she'd forgiven him. But…it wasn't that simple, this time.

"Harry," she said gently. "I don't want to punish you either, but just apologizing to everyone, telling me that you had a revelation about yourself, it isn't…" She hesitated. "It's not going to…buy me back."

She raised her eyes to his, and saw him staring at her in terror. She didn't want to hurt him, but she needed to say this, "You really, really scared me, Harry. You were vindictive and cruel, and I thought you wanted to hurt me. I know you have a dark side, but please don't give me that excuse. It's not enough. I want to know why you were so angry at me."

"I…I don't…" He steeled himself, his voice plaintive. "I asked myself the same question, and my brain told me something irrational."

"Let me guess," said Hermione, her voice much calmer than she felt. "You thought I belonged to you. You got mad at me for kissing Boris, because that was not allowed, so you decided to punish me for it."

"No!" cried Harry. "I would never…I could never think that! Not really!"

"Then why?" said Hermione.

Harry ran both hands through his hair, and when he spoke, his voice trembled.

"I was scared he would take you away," he said. "I was scared he would make you into someone like him, and you would forget all about me, and then you would never want to talk to me ever again and I'd be alone forever."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "That's crazy."

"I know!" cried Harry. "My feelings for you are completely irrational and don't make any sense whatsoever! I don't want you to belong to me, but I don't want you to belong to anyone else either. And I get so insanely jealous and I miss you all the time and I don't even have any idea why!"

"Harry," she said. "Breathe."

He tried out her advice, while she thought very hard about what to say next.

If Harry was anyone else, she would assume he was in love with her, but Harry's devotion to her had always been complicated. Even if he did like her, she wasn't sure she wanted to open that can of worms. She didn't need a boyfriend that would hex any guy who looked at her for more than two seconds.

Hermione gazed at the boy she should be furious at...but strangely, she wasn't really. Maybe it was the sincerity of his apology, maybe it was her annoying crush that wouldn't go away, but all she felt was a sense of relief and mild affection.

But regardless of how she felt now, she couldn't just forgive him and go back to normal. He'd basically attacked her, and that wasn't something she could sweep under the rug. If it happened once, then it could happen again.

The thought was sobering. And yet, somehow, she found that she cared more about what that meant for his future, than for hers.

Hermione bit her lip, considering what Tonks told her last night. She said that if you're going to keep Harry in your life, then he needs to know how you expect your relationship to be. Because if what they had right now was confusing to Hermione, it was probably doing the same thing to him.

Hermione reached out to him, a fleeting look of surprise on his face as she took his hands and clasped them in hers.

"You're a good person," she said. "I firmly believe that with all my heart. I'm not mad at you about what happened. I know that people make mistakes, and I really appreciate that you're trying to make up for them. But something like what happened with Boris can never, ever happen again. I need you to trust me to make my own choices, even if they end up being mistakes."

"I won't do it again, and I do trust you, Hermione. I-"

She squeezed his hands. "Let me finish. I want to be your friend, Harry, but I think we need to set some boundaries. First, we need some time apart. I don't think we should do the Hogwarts quests for now, and I don't want you to help me with my schedule anymore. It's my job, anyway, and I should be able to do it myself. If I do have any trouble, you can help me by bringing me chocolate chip cookies." She smiled. "Once we get back from break, if I feel ready to see you again, I'll try to make time to spend with you at least once a week. What do you think?"

He nodded slowly. "If that's what you want." He disengaged his hands from hers, and pulled the time turner off his neck, offering it to her. She slipped it around hers. Then they stood there, looking at each other again. Outside, there was a warning whistle.

"Oh, that's right," said Hermione. "You have to go to Hogsmeade."

Harry glanced at his watch. "Oh…yeah, I guess."

Harry didn't move, though, just stood there concentrating on the floor. He looked serious and sad, and she got the impression that everything wasn't okay.

Tonks opened the door. "Time to go, Harry."

Hermione hesitated a moment, uncertain if it was okay, then moved to his side. "I'll walk you down."


Harry didn't know what to say to Hermione as they rode the coach back to Hogsmeade. He could tell, by her anxious glances, that she was worried something was wrong.

As was her way, she kept trying to get him to talk about it. It was stressful, because he still struggled to understand it himself, and could not find the words to tell her. But at the same time, it was comforting to know she worried just as much about him as he did for her. He told her more than once that everything was fine, and that he wasn't upset, just thinking. She hugged him at Hogsmeade station, and he said he would call her on Christmas.

Harry found an empty car on the train, closed the door, and stared out the window.

He had worried so much about her forgiving him, that he hadn't stopped to think he might not be able to forgive himself.

Hermione was right to stop the Hogwarts quests, since after what he'd done, they shouldn't be alone together. It was also right for her to take back the time turner, since he'd proven himself unworthy of it. But it hurt him somewhere deep inside to know he'd lost the privilege, that he wasn't reliable enough to help her. It almost felt like he was on probation. One more wrong move, and everything would be over.

There were a lot of negative thoughts running through his mind. Ginny's kiss was one of them—that still stung a lot. So did his last conversation with Boris, which hadn't ended well. His classmates in Ravenclaw, who even after five years, he still barely knew. His broken partnership with the Weasley twins, who'd been his friends since his first day in Hogwarts.

Just a thought, said his brain. Have you considered that our negative cognitive loops might be due to exhaustion? I think a nap might be in order.

Harry blinked slowly, watching as the train car started up and the station began to fall away.

Harry had always believed he was meant for something important—that someday, he would be the one to lead humanity to its new home in the stars. So it struck him as ironic that, on a personal level, he wasn't really fond of the section of humanity that he had regular contact with. He didn't dislike them, for the most part, but they frequently annoyed him. So, either the problem was 99% of the world, or it was him.

He could still feel Hermione's warm hands pressed into his. You're a good person. I firmly believe that with all my heart.

Harry watched the world pass by, the words galvanizing something in him.

He wanted to change, to be a better person. He wanted to be the leader that he'd dreamed of being. He wanted to prove Hermione right, to make her smile.

His eyes closed. He was going to make a plan.

As soon as he woke up.


"Excuse me," said a timid voice, tapping his shoulder.

Harry opened his eyes and saw a very nervous second year Gryffindor carrying a package.

"I was told to give this to you before the train stopped," said the boy. "It's from the Weasley twins."

On the package, written in bright gold letters, were the words DO NOT BURN OR SHOOT GUNS AT.

Now Harry was very nervous. He took the package, debating how much caution he ought to take with it before opening. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen the boys all morning, and he had a sinking feeling.

Harry eventually decided on opening the package facing away from him, just in case some nonsense powder fell out and turned him into a canary or something. He deposited the contents of the package on the seat. Inside was a small box and a letter.

Harry opened the letter first.

Dear Harry,

Perhaps you already know that our great head of house, in an act of vengeful wisdom, has expelled us from Hogwarts. We honestly can't say we didn't see this coming, and it's not like we were learning anything in class anyway. Not sure we would have bothered to show up for NEWTS, either, so it's probably all for the best.

We wanted to let you know that we're setting up a shop in Diagon Alley, and thanks to our accidental stunt, we've already got backloads of orders, so we'll be able to return your investment funds within the next month. We thank you for all your support, and we could never have done it without you. We wanted to give you one last gift before we go. It's a prototype, but I think your group might enjoy playing with it. Whatever you do, don't make it explode (unless you want to, but we don't recommend).

Cheers,

Fred and George

With great trepidation, Harry opened the box.

It was a small, black canister that looked suspiciously like a grenade. Harry read the little paper inside.

Light Bomb

How to use:

Tap the button at the top of the canister twice, and say your name.

Throw at person who you want to escape from.

Run away.

WARNING: DO NOT USE WHILE FIRING WEAPONS OR EXPLOSION SPELLS.

So, as it turned out, Harry was holding a grenade that was pretending not to be a grenade. Fantastic.

He heard a sound at his door, and his instincts warned him that being seen with a weapon on a train was a very Bad Idea. He didn't have time to hide the box with its suspicious contents, so he shoved everything he could into his pockets.

And then he remembered.

But by then, it was too late.

"Light bomb," said Harry to his pocket, frantically.

Of course, his hand came out empty. The storage pocket never worked when he needed it to. Of all the days to be wearing this robe…

"Black canister."

"Stupid Weasley invention."

"GAHHHH!"


August, 1991

"Quirinius, are you quite alright?" asked Dumbledore, eyes wide with concern.

"I am as well as to be expected for an adventurer," Tom replied, struggling to compose himself. "It will not affect my teaching."

"Well," said Dumbledore, rising from his desk. "Let me know if you need assistance. We have a store of medicines, and-"

"Thank you, but all I need is a bit of rest. It has been a long day. Excuse me."

Tom Riddle left Dumbledore's office and walked down the hallway, seething with rage.

"-Far too full of yourself," the Priestess said, standing over him. "And I don't quite trust you around children."

Her curse crashed into him before he had a chance to move.

Stupid, stupid!

He'd done his best to mitigate the effects, but it wasn't enough. He had one year before the curse would leave him a mindless sop.

His teeth clenched, but he forcibly stilled his rage into clarity, control.

Well. One year, then. He supposed he would have to make it count.