This chapter is fairly short. In normal circumstances, I'd've added another scene to it, but because it's the last chapter of year one, I can't really do it, because I want to start year two with the next chapter. At least being shorter means the turnaround time was faster than usual. Don't get used to it!
I still desperately need a beta. Please get in touch with me if you'd like to volunteer.
"There is no tomorrow tonight
There's only the passion we feel
The threat of the dawn's breaking light
Has never seemed quite so unreal.
The rapturous thrill of our hearts
Both bursting with desperate delight
Tomorrow will tear us apart
Oh, but there is no tomorrow
There is no tomorrow tonight."
Smoking Popes, No Tomorrow Tonight
Harry felt like he was lost in his thoughts for an eternity, but it really couldn't have been more than a couple of hours. Madam Pomfrey had briefly interrupted him to give him some foul tasting potions to drink, as well as actual food. Despite his mental distress, his growling stomach meant he couldn't ignore this entirely-he hadn't eaten for three days, after all.
Once he finished his meal, he felt slightly queasy. A cup of tea lay ignored on his bedside table, as the sight of Voldemort's grotesque face kept replaying itself before his mind's eye. He felt like he was about to retch if he kept thinking about this, yet couldn't find the mental energy to change focus until he was distracted by footsteps.
Harry turned to the direction the sound came from, and was greeted by the sight of a relieved looking Ted and Daphne. The former just gave him a smile and kept his steady pace, but Daphne, seeing he was awake, lunged forward and almost throttled him.
"Potter, you idiot," she greeted him as she grabbed the lapel of his pyjamas. "You almost died! Why did you leave us behind!"
Feeling like she'd made her point, she let go of Harry's clothes as Ted arrived at her side. Harry wasn't sure what to say. It was a good thing he had, because if they'd come with him, he wasn't sure they'd still be alive. Voldemort probably wouldn't have had any reason to not kill them. He doubted he'd've cared that Ted was Mr. Nott's son. On the other hand, Harry didn't know that he'd be meeting Voldemort when he left them.
Harry sighted, before picking up his wand from his bedside table and casting the privacy charms he'd learned from Alex Campbell-minus the door locking, for obvious reasons. He turned to his friends and began explaining.
"I didn't think I was going to be doing anything special. I just overheard Granger and Longbottom talk about checking the third floor corridor, and I wanted to see what they were up to."
Harry continued, describing what happened from the moment he'd left them at the Great Hall, to waking up in the room with the mirror, and his confrontation with Quirrell. When he began to describe his encounter with Voldemort, Ted and Daphne looked shocked, especially the latter.
"But… I thought you'd killed him," she said, shocked out of her usual glibness. Ted was a bit more pensive.
"I'm… not that surprised, now that I think about it…" he whispered, even though they were protected by privacy charms, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby despite that. "I don't think the Dark Lord's followers ever really believed he is gone," he said quietly, glancing at Daphne. "He must have said something… About being able to cheat death…"
Daphne swallowed as Harry weighted this in his mind. It made sense of everything. He didn't really think that a baby could have killed such a powerful Dark Wizard as Voldemort, regardless of whatever his mother might have done. He felt a tear come to his eye thinking of her sacrificial love for him, and resolutely pushed that thought to the back of his mind, before continuing with his story.
He thought about keeping his killing of Quirrell out of his account, but ultimately decided against it. They were his best friends, and it wasn't fair to make them continue to hang out with a killer without their knowledge. So he told them all about it.
"I wanted him to die," he said, all his effort going into making sure his voice didn't break. "It wasn't just an accident," he said in a flat voice. He finally turned and met his friends' eyes. "Am I a murderer?" He asked. "Am I evil?"
Ted gave him what he thought was a look of sympathy. But Daphne was a bit quicker in reacting, and before the taller boy could say anything, lunged at Harry and hugged him.
"Harry, you can't be agonizing over that.." she said as she pulled back, her hands still on Harry's shoulders. "Quirrell was trying to kill you, and he had You-Know-Who possessing him. You couldn't have done anything else," she told him, but Harry shook his head sadly.
"It's not that… It's that I wanted to kill him. I didn't just want him to go away. I hated him. Quirrell and Voldemort. It's like…" Harry took a deep breath. "Like part of me was glad he was attacking me so that I had the excuse to kill him… Of course, I couldn't really differentiate between Quirrell and Voldemort…" Harry trailed as Daphne and Ted shuddered slightly at the name.
"Harry, The Dark Lord killed your parents," Ted finally said, taking a step forward and resting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You wouldn't be human if you didn't want to get back at him. Imagine if Quirrell had succeeded. You'd probably be dead. A lot more people would be dead," he said, solemnly. Unspoken between them went the thought of what Mr. Nott would do if Voldemort was back. Harry swallowed, looking to Daphne, as if expecting her to contradict Ted.
She was quiet for a bit. It was odd seeing her being so silent and meditative. It felt like her silence lasted an eternity, but finally, she spoke.
"I'm glad you killed Quirrell, if that was the alternative," she spoke. Harry wasn't sure he couldn't have managed without killing him. "Even if it wasn't… He was willing to bring You-Know-Who back, and probably kill you." She swallowed before adding. "He deserved it."
Harry wasn't sure if his friends were saying this just because that was what they thought he wanted to hear. But there was a possibility they were both sincere, and Harry needed that possibility like a life raft. He jumped out of bed and pulled them both into a tight hug, before stepping back, ashamed of his sudden outburst.
"Thank you," he whispered. He was looking for something else to say when Madam Pomfrey burst in, and he barely had time to cancel the privacy charms before she noticed anything was off, and inquired where he'd learned them.
"That's more than enough now. OUT, if you want Mr. Potter to be able to attend the Feast tonight.
Ted and Daphne left with little protest, looking quite subdued, which was not that surprising after hearing Harry's account. He only hoped they didn't come to regret their initial reaction.
Harry swallowed all the potions the Matron pushed towards him, their foul taste barely registering with him, as he was too distracted by his own internal turmoil. Madam Pomfrey seemed to think he would be in severe danger to his health by attending the feast. She would have liked to keep him until the next day at least, but apparently Dumbledore had ordered that Harry attend.
Harry wondered why the headmaster thought that was so important, but welcomed the fact anyway. Anything to keep his mind busy. He asked Pomfrey for something to read, and she gave him a book on basic healing spells, with strict instructions not to attempt any of them until he was stronger. With a smile, Harry thanked her and kept himself busy making notes of the more useful ones until it was time for the Feast.
Once tea time came, Harry rushed down to the Great Hall, and took a seat between Ted and Daphne, which they'd saved for him.
"Thought you weren't going to make it," Ted whispered, as Harry looked around. The whole hall was decked in green and silver, with a huge banner behind the teachers' table featuring the Slytherin snake. There were quite a few looks directed his way, but fortunately Dumbledore's arrival quieted everyone down.
Taking a stand at his usual place at the table, the headmaster addressed the student body.
"Another year has passed. Hopefully you'll have managed to get a little learning into your heads... Just try not to forget everything during Summer break." He paused and looked around, before glancing backwards at the Slytherin banner.
"Now, I believe the house cup needs to be awarded…. But before I announce the totals, I believe it is time for some last minute points…" He glanced at the counters with a smile as some murmuring spread through the tables.
"Fear not, these will not alter the final ranking…" At this, Harry could feel a sense of relaxation spread through the Slytherin table, while the other houses looked disappointed. "But it is right that we recognize all achievements, no matter how late in the year. So, to Mister Harry Potter," Dumbledore looked at him and smiled, causing Harry to shiver and look away as the attention of the entire school was drawn to him. "For outstanding nerve and resourcefulness, I award fifty points to Slytherin."
This made the Slytherin table rise in applause, as it made their victory over Gryffindor the much greater. They ate and drank in high spirits, but the real party was in the common room. Slytherin had won not only the House Cup, but the Quidditch cup as well, even if Harry had been out of commission for the latter. From what his friends told him, this was much better, the end-of-year atmosphere adding to the excitement.
While he did not share as much of what transpired with Quirrell as he did with Ted and Daphne, he had to say something in the face of the barrage of questions he was met with, not just from his yearmates, but even from older students. So, only deviating from the truth at key points, he told them how he woke up from being stunned, and prevented Quirrell from stealing the Philosopher's Stone. He couldn't resist adding that he already knew about it beforehand.
He left out any mention of Voldemort, or of actually killing Quirrell, though, attributing his rescue to Dumbledore and only taking credit for a delay. He definitely didn't want any more people to know about that than already did. He'd rather not think about it at all.
His tale seemed to be well received. Another reason for avoiding any mention of Voldemort. In the privacy of the common room, some students weren't shy about expressing their sympathies, though most of them had the decency to do so only while they didn't think he was listening. Without any mention of the Dark Lord, though, it was just an instance of a student managing to fight a teacher, and getting house points for it.
Harry didn't exactly have a lot of experience with parties, but he thought this was a wild one. A few older students had managed to smuggle in some liquor, and while things never really got out of control (the prefects mostly stayed sober), it definitely gave events a riskier edge. While no one offered any of the firsties firewhisky, somehow they ended up drinking goblin cider. After one sip, Harry thought it was vile, but kept drinking it anyway.
After a while, it wasn't tasting so bad anymore. Ted got very quiet, just sitting next to Harry with a slightly dazed smile on his face, while Daphne got very talkative, trying to get the attention of a third year girl Harry didn't know, and who didn't look that happy as Daphne went on about her quidditch playing exploits and plans for next year.
Some of the other girls were acting a bit strangely too. Tracey insisted on resting her head on Harry's shoulder and giving him a very long hug. That wasn't something he was very used to, but he decided to go with the flow. It helped that Pansy was doing the same thing to Draco, who seemed to be enjoying it until he had to run to the bathroom, looking like he was about to be sick.
Millicent Bulstrode seemed hardly affected, and Crabbe and Goyle were just their usual dumb brute selves, especially once Draco ran off. Blaise was in animated talk with a group of second year witches. Harry actually managed to forget about Quirrell, about going back to the Dursleys, and have a very good night with his friends and classmates. Even if he woke up the next day with an altogether different kind of headache to the ones he had been getting all year.
After breakfast, which fortunately was held a bit later than during term time, they received their exam results. Harry had managed to pass even History of Magic, having come top of the class in Transfiguration, ahead of even Hermione Granger. He couldn't help but feel a little smug at that. He did pretty well in Charms too. Defence had been left unmarked, of course, and Potions was… well, passable, considering who taught it.
Soon they were making their way to the Hogwarts Express, which would take them all the way to London. For most students, that was a bitter sweet experience, but for Harry it was just bitter, as he'd no loved ones to be reunited with, only the Dursleys. But he tried to grin and bear it as best as he could.
On their way to the carriages which would take them to meet the train, he was approached by Hagrid.
"'Arry, meant ter give ye a present, but couldn't find ye before today," the half-giant said.
With his friends waiting politely, Harry was handed a leather-covered book. When he opened it, he saw that it was full of magical photographs of his parents.
"Owled all yer parents' old school friends, asking fer photos… Do yeh like it?"
Harry had to wait for a few seconds before he could speak without shedding the tears that were welling up in his eyes. "It's great, Hagrid…. Thanks," he whispered, and Hagrid understood, taking a step back and waving him goodbye in silence.
His friends also respected his need to be quiet until they'd taken a place in the carriages.
"What's with the weird skeleton horses pulling these?" Harry asked to try to diffuse the tension, but he was met with a weird look from Daphne.
"What horses? There's nothing pulling the carriages," she replied, but Ted shook his head.
"No, Harry's right. They're Thestrals," he said. Daphne's face lit up in recognition, but Harry was still at a loss.
"Thestrals?" he asked. Ted nodded again.
"You can only see them when you've seen Death," he explained with a sad whisper. Harry glanced at his friend, who looked the saddest he'd even seen him. He rested his hand on Ted's shoulder, who seemed to derive some comfort from that, even if they walked to the train in silence and no one spoke again until they were well on their way.
Predictably, Daphne was the first to break the silence.
"I've been thinking. Harry, your birthday is July 31, right?" Harry nodded.
"Well, dad can pick you up a few days before, and then we can throw a birthday party for you." She paused with a smile, and went on before Harry could object. "Now don't give me that 'You're already doing so much for me,' or other similarly noble excuses you're thinking of," she said curtly. "If it's a birthday party, we can even invite Ted." She turned to the taller boy as she went on. "It gets you out of that house for a day at least.
Ted gave her a wry smile. He looked a bit better. "Honestly, that sounds like a good idea Harry."
"Besides, as I told you, dad will have people over all the time. A lot of them will probably bring their kids. That's just how it works out. What's one more party among others."
"Alright." Harry was almost surprised by how little resistance he put up, but he did think that was a great idea, and he really wasn't in the mood now for pretending he didn't for the sake of politeness. "Thanks Daphne. I'll need that to keep me going through the Dursleys," he added with a wry smile.
Trying as hard as possible to block any thoughts of Quirrell, they spent the trip down to London planning their Summer, eating and reminiscing over the year. Harry almost didn't want the trip to end. But end it did.
Having changed into Muggle clothing, Harry dragged his baggage out of the train. Ted was being met by his father, and by unspoken agreement, said his goodbyes before that.
"I'll write. Both of you," he said, before running off to meet Mr. Nott.
After Ted took his leave, Harry and Daphne walked side by side down the platform, each pushing their own luggage cart.
"There he is, Mom, there he is, look!" Harry heard as a ginger little girl pointed at him. He felt himself turn redder than her hair as he urged Daphne on. His friend started laughing until she saw his expression, then just bit her lip.
"That looks like the youngest Weasley. You're looking at a whole year of that soon," she said with a smirk. Harry groaned while Daphne's eyes darted back and forth until they came to rest on a very tall man with a healthy head of golden blonde hair, combed strictly into a side part. He looked to be in his forties, and other than the difference in hair colours, looked remarkably like Daphne, down to their determined chin and light green eyes. He was dressed in a somewhat old fashioned way, wearing a tweed jacket and trousers. Unlike most wizards he'd seen trying to blend in the muggle world, at least he could pass for a farmer, or a country solicitor.
Daphne's face lit up when she spotted him. "Dad, over here," she called, confirming Harry's guess that this was indeed Christian Greengrass.
He strode towards them, giving Daphne a hug as Harry stood respectfully back, giving father and daughter their space.
"Dad, I'd like you to meet my friend Harry," Daphne said once she could step back. She elbowed Harry to come forward.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Greengrass," he said, as he took the hand Daphne's dad had offered.
"I don't suppose I can get you to call my Christian, can I? Never worked on me when I was your age either," he said jovially. Harry nodded with a grin as he continued.
"It's nice to meet you too Harry. Daphne's told us a lot about you."
"All good, I hope," Harry replied, a stilted smile on his face. He wasn't used to interacting with adults who weren't his schoolteachers, but he was going to be staying at the Greengrasses in a few weeks, so he should probably get used to it.
"Oh, nothing to raise my paternal ire, if that's what you're worried about. I'm assured your relationship is strictly platonic," the man said with a wry smile, causing Daphne to look away in embarrassment. Harry guessed this is where she got her penchant for this kind of jokes. Mr. Greengrass was extracting some parchments from the inside pocket of his jacket, which he handed to Harry, to his surprise.
"I haven't yet been able to find anything regarding your placement in your relatives' care," Mr. Greengrass said, frowning as Harry took the parchments from him with a quizzical look. "I hope to have some more information to share when you come to stay with us. However, I was able to find the information you requested on this Gaunt family…" He paused with a look of distaste.
"I must say that it's not exactly a very edifying set of stories. I hope you're not looking into this family for a role model of what it means to be in Slytherin House. As much as they boasted of their descent, I assure you that most of us former Slytherins do not behave like that."
Harry shook his head. "No, sir, it's nothing like that. It's a bit of a long story, though…"
Mr. Greengrass nodded. "You can tell me when you arrive at our house, then," he said, to Harry's relief. He should have known that the man would want to know the reason for his interest. He'd have to come up with a suitably sanitized version of the story. Fortunately, he had a few weeks to do it.
"Which does remind me, I should probably have a chat with your relatives… I assume they're here to pick you up…" Harry nodded, feeling himself flush at this.
"My uncle Vernon should be waiting on the muggle part of the station…" he said. "He's not actually my blood relation. He's my aunt's husband," Harry explained, not wanting Mr. Greengrass to think he was actually related to Vernon. He wasn't that keen for them to meet at all, but he thought if Vernon knew some adult wizards were going to take him in for most of the Summer, he might be a bit more malleable, so he reluctantly went with it as they stepped through the barrier between the wizard and muggle stations.
Uncle Vernon was pacing outside, his already bright red face turning a shade of purple when he saw there was someone accompanying Harry. Mr. Greengrass, who'd donned a tweed flat cap once they'd stepped outside, advanced towards Vernon with forced joviality.
"Mr… Dursley, is it?" he began, almost forcing his hand into Vernon's for a shake. In an extremely broad Norfolk accent, Mr. Greengrass went on.
"Your nephew Harry's made very good friends with my daughter at school this year," he said, pointing to Daphne, who was standing back with Harry and trying to keep any obvious distaste from showing on her face as she observed Vernon. "It'd be our pleasure to have him over for a few weeks during Summer. I'm sure you and your wife will appreciate the break too," he added as a sweetener.
Harry could see two opposing impulses warring within Uncle Vernon: the one to make Harry miserable, and the one to not have to be around him or his 'freakishness.' Evidently, the latter won out, for after a bit of hemming and hawing he agreed. Harry suspected part of the reason for that was that meeting an adult wizard made him uncomfortable and he wanted the whole ordeal to be over as soon as possible.
"Splendid, splendid," Mr. Greengrass replied. "I'll be in touch. Daphne, we have Harry's contact details don't we?" he asked pointedly. At Daphne's nod, he turned back to Vernon and went on.
"I was thinking we'd pick him up about a couple of days before his birthday, so he could have a proper party. No, Mr. Dursley, it's quite alright, no trouble at all. We'll be in touch." He bade Daphne follow him, and she turned to Harry.
"Can't wait to have you over. Good luck with the muggles," she said, before giving him a firm hug.
"Say hi to the rest of your family for me. Nice meeting you Mr. Greengrass," Harry replied as he waved at them. He could see Mr. Greengrass wiping his hand on his trousers, and laughed. He clearly didn't appreciate having to shake Uncle Vernon's greazy paws.
"Come on boy," Uncle Vernon said, breaking him out of his reverie.
Harry followed him out of the station, glancing at Daphne and her father, who to Harry's surprise walked up to what looked like a regular, slightly beaten up Ford pick-up. Harry was surprised to see them use such a mundane mode of transport, until, with Daphne waving goodbye at him, it popped out of the parking space and into the middle of traffic, narrowly getting ahead of a red light.
Harry grinned and, resigned to spending a few weeks with the Dursleys, nodded at whatever Uncle Vernon was going on about as he took his seat in the car, already thinking of what next year had in store for him.
My thanks to Mordecai from the DLP forums for helping refine the concept of goblin cider: it's made using apples which the goblins grow underground, using dung from the Gringotts dragons for fertilizer. The dragon dung's magical properties enable the apple trees to grow without natural sunlight. It also tastes like dragon dung.
Thank you to everyone who left reviews. I appreciate every single review. See you soon for year two.
