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Chapter Nineteen—Waking

Harry woke with a gasp. For a minute, he'd thought he was in the middle of the fire, burning to death. He rolled over to the side and grabbed Golden's neck and buried his face in his scales.

"You're all right," Golden told him, and his tail lapped over Harry's legs for a minute the way his tongue was lapping over Harry's cheek.

"I could have died," Harry whispered. He didn't have enough concentration right now to speak in Parseltongue. His heart was bounding and he wanted to scream, and he wanted to never have to go through anything like that again. "Why do they hate me so much?"

"Because you are requiring them to change things they are used to. There is no terror like the terror of those facing change." Golden paused. "Are you regretting this? Would you rather not try to change the hierarchy?"

Harry swallowed and shook his head. He still wanted to help people. He still wanted people who were with bronze and tin and copper familiars to feel better, and he wanted people like Neville who were ashamed of the forms their familiars took to feel better. He wanted to stop people from using the Forbidden Arts. He wanted to stop the creation of artificial familiars forever.

But he hurt, too, and the biggest part of the pain was how much people had to hate him to try and kill him.

Golden curled his tail more strongly around Harry's legs. "Would it help you to know that this is part of the reason I am here?"

Harry looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I chose to come to you because I knew that you would need my help, and my being golden is part of that help. You are in pain. That is natural. But you are capable of rising past this. It's not a guarantee. But you can."

Harry hugged Golden hard. No one else had ever believed in him when he was a kid, but that hadn't mattered so much because the Dursleys were petty and terrible and Harry knew that, and Golden believed in him. But now he was here where people supposedly looked up to him but still wanted to kill him. Not even the Dursleys had ever tried that.

"We'll survive this," Golden said, his tongue darting out to touch Harry's cheek again. "I cannot express how proud I am of you, and how much together we'll be on each step down the road."

Harry laughed. "Steps even though you don't have legs?"

"I do not appreciate your childish teasing," Golden said, but from the note in his voice, Harry knew what he really felt. "Now, what do you want to do when they come to wake you up and ask you about the attack?"

Harry sighed. "Let them investigate it. I didn't see who it was, anyway. Maybe I can give the sense of their magic to someone—"

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Potter."

Harry looked up as Madam Pomfrey walked into the hospital wing, and gave her a tentative smile. "Why, Madam Pomfrey?" he asked, noticing how stern she looked. Had something else happened since he landed here?

"I have an ability that allowed me to see the faces of those who attacked you." Madam Pomfrey pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down, staring at him seriously. Comfit leaped into her lap and stretched out, sprawling all over her. "But I must ask that you not tell anyone else about it. I am not supposed to have it."

"Because the hierarchy says you aren't?" Harry asked quietly.

After a second, Madam Pomfrey nodded. "And I'll ask you to be careful, as well. Someone who attacked you was wearing the tie of a student, but not the face of one. That means that they were probably under Polyjuice or an illusion, and they could be in the school and watching to see how you respond to this attack. Or they could be an adult who came from outside."

"It's dangerous because we don't know," Harry finished for her, curling his arm around Golden's neck again.

"Exactly." Madam Pomfrey gave him a wry smile. "I'm glad that you're a Hufflepuff and not a Gryffindor at the moment, I must say. A Gryffindor would be swearing revenge on the attackers and offering them put themselves in a position of danger to try and draw them out again."

"I don't think I need to do that," Harry said, with a little snort that made Madam Pomfrey look at him in surprise. "I mean, all I need to do is just go on existing, and they'll probably attack me sooner or later."

"That is unfortunately true, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey hesitated. "You should know that most of the school knows you are here, but not what happened. They believe that you suffered some kind of magical exhaustion from practicing a powerful spell and are resting. Professor Snape and the Headmistress know, but your friends don't."

Harry sighed. He didn't like it, but he supposed it made sense. He still felt the awful, devouring fear waiting to swallow him. It would probably be worse for Ron and Hermione and Draco, and especially Neville. "Have they been able to visit?" he asked, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Golden shifted so that he could move more freely.

"I allowed them in a few at a time," Madam Pomfrey said, and then shook her head. "There were a few who claimed to be your particular friends, but they were all older students in different Houses, and ones I've never seen around you in the Great Hall. I denied them. If I offended anyone, tell them to blame me."

Harry laughed in spite of himself, and then clapped his hand over his mouth. Madam Pomfrey's lips bent into a small, satisfied smile. "There you are. Sometimes I thought you would never do that."

"Sometimes it's hard," Harry acknowledged, and then looked up as someone stood at the door of the hospital ward. He smiled when he saw it was Professor Snape, and Professor Snape nodded back and quickly came into the room.

"You are well?"

Professor Snape sounded almost frightened. Harry swallowed. At least it was kind of nice to know that he hadn't been the only one who felt that way. He nodded and then caught his breath in surprise as the professor grabbed him up in a hug. He looked towards Madam Pomfrey for a second, wondering if Professor Snape would want her to suspect the oath he'd sworn to Harry.

Madam Pomfrey smiled, and her wolverine turned and looked at the wall. "I saw nothing," she told them lightly, turning away herself to rearrange some crystal potions flasks on a tray.

Professor Snape had already stepped back. He looked fine, Harry thought. "How are my friends?" he asked. "Did you catch who did it? Do you know how I can keep safe in the future? Is Professor McGonagall okay?"

Professor Snape raised his eyebrows. "For the first time, I am beginning to think that perhaps you would have been best Sorted into Ravenclaw."

Harry flushed. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled. "But I do want to know."

Professor Snape nodded and sat down across from him. "Your friends are fine. Worried about you, but I gave them what reassurances I could considering that we always seemed to have an audience."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Yes," Professor Snape said, so dryly that Harry was reminded of the time he'd overheard him talking to the Weasley twins. "You seem to have a great many friends in school among the older students."

"I mean, not really, sir," Harry said. "Unless you count Cedric Diggory and Cormac McLaggen. Otherwise, just about everybody I know well is in my year."

Professor Snape nodded. "I suspected that was the case. There have been older students immediately appearing outside the classroom every time I tried to have a conversation with your friends in the past two days, or in the corridor, or in the Great Hall. I attempted to hold Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom behind after the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff Potions class the other day to speak to them, and immediately there were three older Ravenclaws pounding on the door and claiming they were concerned with the safety of Miss Granger."

"You wouldn't hurt a student, sir."

"Your faith in me is not shared by all the others, Mr. Potter."

Harry shrugged, a little embarrassed, although he couldn't say whether it was for himself or the others who were acting mental. "Well, sorry, sir," he said. "So you think they're trying to be spies? Or figure out what happened?"

"Some of the people who attacked you were students," Professor Snape, his voice soft even though he'd just flicked his wand in a spell Harry thought was probably for privacy. "I think that they have spread around rumors of their 'concern' and thus recruited unwitting spies to their side. That most of them won't know what cause they're serving does not make them less annoying."

Harry nodded. He could see that. "Is Professor McGonagall okay, sir? And what are we going to do next?"

"The Headmistress is making some adjustments to the wards, which has exhausted her magically for the past few days, but she is physically fine. And your friends have collected homework assignments for you from all your professors, who have agreed to extend any deadlines they were thinking about."

"Thanks, sir."

"I had nothing to do with it."

Harry just studied Professor Snape skeptically, and the professor finally moved his hand a little and said, "Fine, perhaps I did. But as for what we are going to do next…the adjusted wards will help. They will warn the Headmistress of strangers in the castle. She is furious that she did not know about this attack the moment it happened."

"Why didn't she, sir?"

"The age of the wards and—who used to control them."

Harry nodded, understanding why Professor Snape probably didn't want to say more than that. "All right, sir. Is there anything else we can do?"

"Professor Quirrell will continue to teach you defensive magic. And I would encourage you to employ some of the tactics that your enemies have and remain with your friends as much as possible."

Harry had to smile a little. After this attack, most of his friends would probably never want to leave him alone. "I can do that, sir. Neville and Hermione will be glad to hear it." And he would be glad to be in the library and researching everything Hermione wanted to research, for once. She had about given up on Forbidden Arts, so that meant the books were more interesting and more in line with what Harry wanted to read, anyway.

Professor Snape hesitated again. Harry looked at him. "What else is wrong, sir?"

"You are too perceptive for your own good," Professor Snape muttered, and reached into his robe pocket with a jerky motion, nearly toppling Shadowstriker off his shoulder. Golden laid his chin more heavily over Harry's lap as if to reassure him. Harry took a deep breath and held it, but his heart was beating like Alanna's did sometimes.

Professor Snape handed him a small scroll. Harry unrolled it and stared at the words. They said something about filing for custody, and Narcissa Malfoy's name was at the top. Harry swallowed. "I don't understand, sir. I thought I was with Mrs. Longbottom because my parents wanted me to be."

"Yes, but no one knew that for years." Professor Snape's expression was grim. "The Malfoys are challenging on the grounds of having a male figure in the house who can act as a role model for you, having a more expansive home and more money to support you, having more silver familiars in the family and being able to teach you about your power, and now, on the grounds of the attack. They say they could guarantee your safety better than Hogwarts could. They want to take you out of the school for the rest of the year."

"No." Harry dropped the scroll on the floor.

"Harry, it's not going to happen. Or if it did, it would only be for a few days. The Wizengamot judges such petitions, and you have allies there, including Amelia Bones. You have—"

"I'm not going with them." Harry could feel panic rising up in him like dark water. He'd endured the years with the Dursleys because he had Golden and he had magic and the Dursleys hadn't known about them, but living with people who hated him and wanted to get control of him and knew about Golden—

"I will not allow it."

Harry managed to focus and found Golden twined across his lap, his head raised and his tongue darting out. Harry touched his neck with a trembling hand, and soft, bright heat sparked around him, like the friendly version of the fire that the people in the corridor had attacked him with.

"I will not permit it," Golden said. "For years, familiars have not done things like that unless their wizard's life was at stake. But we are changing things. And I did not come here to see you twisted and changed until you are working against what you want, or your mind corrupted with the Imperius Curse. We would break free and run away first."

"But what would happen if we couldn't come back to Hogwarts?" Harry whispered.

"There are other places. We would go there."

Golden's voice was soft and unshakable, and after long moments when he felt breathless, Harry nodded and hugged him. Then he looked up and realized that Madam Pomfrey was pointing her wand at Professor Snape. He blinked.

"If you're going to upset my patients like that, get out of my infirmary," she snapped.

"No, Madam Pomfrey, really, it's okay," Harry said weakly, pushing himself up and sighing as the room spun a little. The potions she'd been giving him had that effect, probably. "I wanted him to tell me, and he told me. Blame me instead of him."

"No, I am going to blame him," Madam Pomfrey said, and glared at Professor Snape for a second before she lowered her wand again. "You are a child, and he's an adult. He should be able to judge when something would upset you so."

Harry shrugged a little, but he wanted to say that no one could have judged that because nothing had upset him like this since he entered the wizarding world. He turned to Professor Snape. "Are people going to take this seriously, sir?"

"They will have to talk about it in front of the Wizengamot. I'm afraid that you'll have to be there." Professor Snape leaned forwards. "What was Golden saying to you? I felt Shadowstriker reacting to it, but I didn't understand."

"He said we would run away and go somewhere else that he knows about before we would allow the Malfoys to take me."

Professor Snape hesitated like he was shocked. Harry stared at him. "Sir? Are you all right?"

"I—thought you would go along with it because it would be a good political move," Professor Snape said faintly, sounding a little stunned. "You haven't seemed to react like a child before this, so I suppose I forgot that you still are one."

"I don't want to leave Hogwarts," Harry said, and then swallowed as he saw the narrow way that Professor Snape was staring at him. "Sir," he added, just in case that helped. "I really, really don't want to leave it."

"I can see that," Professor Snape nodded. "Then we will have to come up with some new tactics to fight this Malfoy incursion—tactics that I was not necessarily prepared for."

He looked so tired that Harry ached for him, and winced a little at the thought that he had caused this. "I'm sorry, sir," he said quickly. "I just—I can't do whatever they want because it might get better later. It was okay with the Dursleys because I didn't know there was anything else. But now I know that I can be at Hogwarts, and be with my friends, and be with Mrs. Longbottom and Neville, and I know that—I know things can be different. I just can't go and live with the Malfoys. They won't let me fight to make things better, either. And what if they decided to take Draco out of the school, too? Or leave him here? It could be dangerous for him."

"Mr. Potter is speaking sense, Severus." Madam Pomfrey looked ready to fight, and her wolverine was snarling. "I insist that you come up with some way to make this better."

Professor Snape's face darkened, but he nodded. "I will. I swear to you." He rose, and paused, looking at Harry for a second. Harry stared back, blinking.

"Thank you," Professor Snape whispered. "Thank you for—reminding me of what's important." He swept a bow at Harry that he didn't understand at all, and then turned and walked out of the hospital wing.

"Now, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said cheerfully, as if nothing had happened, "let's get some food into you, and then you can start receiving the visitors who I'm sure only retreated because they saw that Professor Snape had arrived."

Bewildered, but also a little glad, Harry leaned back against the pillows and let her fuss over him. Golden hissed gently next to him.

"You deserve the chance to be a child," he said, and put his head in Harry's lap.