Chapter 7: Sorry Sighs and Long Nights

There was little sleep to be found in the castle that night. Each of the people in that meeting had been kept up by their thoughts. What they had failed to see before haunted them. It was hard to transplant the image of Harry Potter, son of James and Lily, for a poor boy who had never really known what it meant to have love or even a home. Some coped with it well, others not so much.

Flitwick had been reluctant to leave the sobbing giant alone. He'd accompanied him all the way down to the ground floor before Hagrid had turned to him to ask if he wanted to come get a drink. Flitwick did not usually drink. In fact, when he usually went to the three broomsticks, he got a cherry syrup soda with ice and an umbrella. Tonight however, as Hagrid downed some mulled mead, in the form of at least six different large tankards, Flitwick indulged himself with one shot of Firewhiskey.

It made a funny picture, the giant squeezed into the corner and the little man with legs hanging over his chair coughing as he put down his glass. It was their sizes that made the way they drank alcohol so different, Hagrid needed at least two pints to even feel a little buzzed while the one shot did it for Flitwick.

Still, by the end of the night he was much more sober than Hagrid. Flitwick awkwardly patted the trembling back, reaching as high as he could in an attempt to comfort his fellow staff member.

"I'm s'rry," Hagrid sobbed taking another gulp of mead. "It's just that…. Harry! I was the one to get him from Godric's Hollow. I should 'ave known!"

"How could you have?" Flitwick said soothingly. He himself wondered how he hadn't spotted it. There were always quiet children, but Harry asked very little of his teachers. It was strange now that he thought of it.

"It was just James an' Lily." Hagrid hiccupped and wiped his tears. "Some of the bes' witch and wizard I've ever met. Good ones. None of 'em deserved it. Not a bit! Leas' o' all, Harry. He's a good one. I knew that from the first. Just like I knew how awful those muggles were."

Flitwick assured the man once again Hagrid had taken Harry to his relatives. The only other choice had been Sirius Black, who would have been much worse. "I 'ad his motorbike. He gave it to me fer Harry that nigh'. Just shows wha' I knew."

"It's in the past. Now, is different. You can help Harry. He trusts you. You're his friend, correct?" Flitwick said pushing the strangeness of the thought of Sirius Black not attacking Hagrid and killing Harry on sight that night away for the moment.

Hagrid nodded, accentuating it with another hiccup.

"Good. Then, that's what you need to keep in mind. Not what's happened, but what will."

Hagrid sloshed one of his mead bottles as he lifted it. "For Harry."

Flitwick raised his own glass. "For Harry."

In her own room, tucked away in a room attached to the greenhouses, sat Pomona Sprout. She was thinking of the behavior she had seen exhibited by Harry as well. The boy answered when called upon, usually correctly, but never asked or outright raised his hand like Ms. Granger. He spoke quietly and she had seen he had experiencing gardening (part of his chores, she assumed.)

She would have to talk to those who knew him better to learn more. There were many things she could be missing, beside the risky behavior shown in going after the stone, abused and neglected kids showed many signs: performance issues in class, underachieving, anxiety, a lack of a drive, being wary on who to trust as well, not to mention the self-esteem issues.

She was usually the one to help the other heads of house deal with such situations. They were teachers, protecting students was their jobs. It was an initiative she'd started herself after hearing stories of others in the past. The past five years it had gone well.

Students were put with appropriate relatives if they could be found. If not, families were asked to foster and host them for the summer, muggles and wizards alike. Many times, it was friends' homes, but with others it was the houses of wizards and witches Pomona knew she could trust. It seemed right now the headmaster wasn't one of those people. Not if he'd put Harry in that house. She would have to do some investigating.

Across the castle Minerva McGonagall was also thinking of such a program. She knew well that some of her students had had troubled lives at home. Many times, she had not been able to do much, but gave support when they needed it. Her mind wandered to Sirius Black for a moment, thinking if it was possible that awful home was the root of his betrayal. It was heartbreaking, especially when the Potters' had been the ones to take him in.

Those boys had exasperated her, but she had loved them. Now there was only one truly left, and Harry, James and Lily's son. She would do what she could for them, for him.

McGonagall turned the corner, doing as she always did when she was worried about her students, patrolling the hall outside Gryffindor tower. She'd walked in a few times to check on the dorms, as well, though never entered. She started to walk, trying a planned route. She would have to think how to get away if the Headmaster persisted in his foolishness. With the boy's invisibility cloak and her Animagus form getting out of the castle should be easy enough. Where they would go after was the issues. Remus was an idea, though risky. Dumbledore also knew about her cottage and her brother's home. She could resort to others, and she had started to think of the names of families who had helped her and Pomona with other children in need before.

Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe haven, safe for any who needed refuge of any sort. The fact that Harry had not gotten it would be remedied. She had helped many students; Hogwarts had been their rescue. If not the castle, the professors themselves. That's what would happen now.

Far below her was a pacing Severus Snape. He'd barely been able to focus on his potions as he rethought the events in the Headmaster's office. It was true Petunia had always been awful. He'd spent many summers having to endure her spying and nagging with Lily, as they tried to make Cokeworth seem as magical as Hogwarts. Many years had passed, but he doubted the woman had changed. She had started to loathe her sister by the end of his friendship with Lily, it was unlikely that had changed.

Still, he could not imagine that James Potter's child was not as bigheaded and self-absorbed as his father. Living with Petunia might have only strenghted that. She was fairly selfish herself. It was hardly plausible the boy lived in a closet, or that he suffered in childhood like Severus had. Dumbledore would not have allowed the child to go through such things. It was part of his blatant favoritism. He helped children escape their homes, but barely Slytherin families and purebloods. Severus knew it was those families' influence that kept it from happening, but it felt unfair.

It all was. Severus once again pictured Lily, that red hair and those bright green eyes. The way she had been there to protect him from Potter and his pals, how she'd get excited about a new piece of magic or new potion, the way she laughed and just how much she'd cared. Severus slammed his fist down on the deck and made up his mind once and for all as he started his trek up from the dungeons.

In his office, floors above, sat Albus Dumbledore. Fawkes had flown to perch on his shoulder and rubbed his head against the withered cheek of his owner. His red plume was sprinkled with the first of the tears to fall from Albus Dumbledore's now dull eyes. He gave a great sob as he heard the Gargoyle close behind McGonagall.

He had been blinded again, blinded by the greater good. He had failed to protect those who needed him, again. It was not a foolish dream this time, but the fact he had turned his head, thinking he was doing the best. Somehow, that made it just as worse, if not even more so. Harry Potter had the world's fate in his hands, and Dumbledore had been the one tasked with his care, yet he failed. There was a flaw in his plan, a flaw too large to be ignored. The flaw was he cared for the boy, as Mr. Weasley has pointed out in the hospital wing.

It might not seem so, for he'd failed miserably in every way. He'd never followed up after that morning ten years ago, nor had he even taken a look at the family he was leaving the boy with in the first place. He had been so excited about the idea that he could protect the boy from those that would do him harm with blood wards that he'd failed to think of everything else.

It wasn't as if he hadn't known about Petunia's feelings on Lily, but he had ignored them. He had explained it all away, wishing for the best. The best for the world, but never the boy. He had pulled strings and organized things, wanting to give the boy a normal life, one where he would not have such self-importance by knowing he'd saved the world as a baby. Yet, in doing so, in crafting this noble child, he'd hurt him.

Petunia took him, putting the blood wards into effect just somewhat. Yet, Harry's inability to feel at home made them almost ineffective as well. Petunia's acceptance and the blood wards could be easily broken.

Yet Dumbledore, detaching himself for the greater good as he had always done had put the boy in that home. However, was there a need for him to return? Harry had awoken something in him this year, a feeling that he hadn't had since he'd had to care for Ariana. The likelihood Harry could die was all to big. Yet, remembering the boy weak in a hospital bed after his fight all Dumbledore wanted to do was save him from his fate.

He had made a decision. Harry was too important. His plan would work, perhaps he hadn't thought it through enough, but the parts in place had worked somewhat. Now he just needed to see the rest through.

As he was thinking this through, Severus Snape burst back into the office. Dumbledore had stopped crying but wiped his face again before turning around to greet the man pleasantly. "Severus, I thought you might be sleeping at an hour such as this."

"No. I find sleep evades me, like any reasoning behind all of your nonsense," Snape said sharply sweeping into the room to stare down at Dumbledore. The main tilted his head at him quizzically, a gesture for the younger man to explain. Snape's mouth soured. "Minerva was right. You enjoy your games too much. I thought you would keep up with your favoritism with the boy. After all, you coddled him and rewarded his stupidity by giving Gryffindor the house cup."

Then, you put him with Petunia, who hates magic more than anything on earth. How you thought that might end well eludes, for surely you wanted the boy to get the care and pampering he deserves? I have no answer. It still eludes me. I had thought we were meant to protect him, yet you threw him in with what might as well be manticores."

Severus had paced as he spoked, constantly turning to look at Dumbledore with his snarl, furled eyebrows and deep black-eyed glare. Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid being my favorite does not have the perks you might expect Severus. I had a good reason for placing Harry there. You know as well as I that Voldemort's followers would be all too happy to be able to get their hands on him. The blood wards prevented that. He was kept safe."

"I would not call it safe," Severus Snape spat. He shook his head, his greasy black hair wildly moved in a nonexistent wind even when he stopped. He turned quickly back at Dumbledore. "You made a slip, old man. You admitted the blood wards do not work perfectly without the boy's acceptance as well."

"True, enough."

"Then, why? It hasn't made the boy any less big-headed or spoiled. He's still found out how famous he is. He seems happy to bask in it as well. You have chosen your pawn, your favorite piece. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone else felt the same, happy to give him everything he wants."

Dumbledore shook his head now looking slightly amused. He stroked Fawkes again before the bird flew back to his perch. "You are right that I chose Harry as my pawn. Perhaps I have expressed slight favoritism, but as I said before that is not what you think. However, you are wrong about him being spoiled. Harry has acted anything but. You see too much of James in his looks, but I have read somewhere that the eyes are windows to the soul."

Snape flinched as if he had been struck.

Dumbledore held up his hand, giving an acquiescing nod. "I believe that is enough for tonight, Severus. We both still have a lot to think about. Or should I say, we both have much to rethink. You have kept too long of a grudge to see clearly Severus. You think I was rewarding the house cup to Gryffindor out of favoritism. No? There's a simple answer.

"Your house did not deserve it. Minerva was a bit too harsh taking all those points from the children on the night they were caught out. However, it was not only her. I've heard the complaints for years on your bias. You might want to think, if you did give the same amount of points to any house for the questions they answered, perhaps I wouldn't have needed to take the cup for Slytherin. I've given you many chances and many years. So, as I said we both have much to rethink."

Snape glared at Dumbledore again for a few moments and then turned swiftly to leave, with a whirl of his black cloak he was gone. Dumbledore was left alone again, to think about the two very similar but different boys and their fates.

Meanwhile, the subject of their conversation slept in Gryffindor Tower. Hedwig had flown off to hunt leaving Harry alone in the large dorm. The open window let the wind blow through the stone room, rustling the boy's messy hair. He barely felt the interruption, taking it to be another part of his dream.

Harry's hands were on a broomstick, or at least one was. The other reached for the clouds to the amusement of someone behind him. Harry wasn't alone on the broom, there was an arm around him, a bigger hand just in front of his on the broom's handle. Harry turned back to see dark hair rustling in the wind, like his own. The glasses glinted in the sunlight, but the man just laughed and nustled his face into Harry's hair.

"One more minute," James Potter told his son. "Or you mom will be getting upset."

They flew lazily around the stands on the pitch, stopping to twirl around the goal hoop. James winked and threw Harry through one, only able to because he sat with his arms ready to catch his son from both sides. Once he did, he descended slowly to meet the disapproving frown of his wife, who uncrossed her arms to hold them out for her son.

Harry shook his head himself. "Boom! Boom!"

"Not now, sweetheart." Lily marched away with her son in her arms, turning with a sweep of her red hair. James ran a hand through his own racing to catch up. Harry laughed looking back at his father and copied the movement, ruffling his own hair. Lily huffed turning around again to face James. "Why does our son have to be your miniature?"

James opened his mouth to answer but Lily stopped him. "No, I don't want to hear it. You were lucky enough I gave you permission to take Harry flying, because it won't be happening again."

"I'm sorry, Lils. I was careful, promise. I know it looked bad, but he loved it. He's a flyer. You said it yourself, he takes after me in that way."

"A lot of ways it seems," Lily said unamused.

James caught up to his wife and son now that they were stopped. He put his arm around both of them and kissed her hair. She looked up at him with the same glare, but he only laughed. "He's more yours than mine. It's those eyes."

"He's your twin, we all know it."

"He's ours," James said with a decided finality. He took Harry back in one arm and put the other around Lily steering her back towards the castle. "Come on, let's go set Harry up before everyone else arrives for the meeting. It's going to be a long night."

Harry asked his father once more about the broom, but was distracted as they reached the castle and by the sound of James and Lily's voices. He looked between them as they bantered with a bit of amusement as they headed through the courtyard to the castle's entrance.

McGonagall greeted them inside, happily saying a hello to Harry with a grin. She didn't reach for him, even as it looked like she might. Harry smiled back babbling a little. She looked between James and Lily herself as she spoke. "He gets bigger every time I see him. It seems yesterday you were all students here yourselves."

"It's only been a few years," Lily said softly but she seemed a bit sad.

"it seems longer," James said in agreement squeezing her shoulder.

"Well, Hogwarts is always happy to welcome students home," McGonagall replied. She smiled down at Harry again and turned to smirk at James. "I saw you flying with him. When he arrives will I have another player for Gryffindor?"

"You can bet on it."

James was nudged by Lily, which he responded to with an affronted look. She smiled back at McGonagall herself. "We're trying not to make those decisions for him just yet. Harry will have to discover things for himself when he gets here. Not just live our lives over again."

"No," James agreed. "He'll be so much better."