A/N: sorry quick authors note I made a bunch of changes to this chapter, if you're curious peep the longer a/n below ty enjoy
Chapter Six: Summer School
Harry was excited, yet apprehensive, about the summer. He had worried that without his friends, Hogwarts would feel a bit like foreign territory. Just empty halls and classrooms, a Quidditch pitch without students flying, a husk. Harry was wrong. It felt like school.
On his first morning, Harry had gotten up with the sun, gotten ready, and trudged down sleepily to the Great Hall. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting walking through the door, but the emptiness and general quietness still stunned him into stillness.
Harry noticed that it wasn't totally empty, however. At the far end of the Great Hall Harry noticed Hagrid first, who was waving and smiling widely. Harry smiled back, and made his way to him, walking between the long empty tables meant for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students.
It wasn't just Hagrid at the staff table; It was Dumbledore, McGonogall, Flitwick, two professors at the table he genuinely didn't know the name of, and Professor Lupin. Several of them were chattering amongst themselves.
"Mornin' Harry." Hagrid greeted, "Yer can sit here if you like. I've go' a wand tree that Professor Sprout's plan'ed for me tha' needs my attention." Hagrid said, standing up from the table, his chair scraping loudly.
"Wand tree? Are you planning to-" Harry stopped himself. He probably thought it best not to ask if Hagrid was going to be illegally making himself a new wand. Harry had not forgotten that Hagrid had also had access to unicorn hair, now in addition to wand wood.
However, Hagrid cleared up any confusion by saying the word, "Bowtruckles."
Well, he hadn't cleared up all the confusion, as Harry asked, "Whats a bowtruckle?"
"Small green critter no bigger than the size of pencil." Hagrid explained. Harry was surprised Hagrid knew what a pencil was. "They live in wand trees in tiny clusters, we're gonna be lookin' a' em next term. Yah can come down sometime this week and check em out if ya like?" Hagrid offered, rounding the table. Harry smiled and nodded.
"Sounds great Professor," Harry said. Harry could see the tips of Hagrid's white cheeks turn pink at the use of the word 'Professor'.
"I'll be seein' yah then," Hagrid said merrily.
"Seeya later Hagrid!" Harry called to Hagrid, who was striding out of the Great Hall with heavy footsteps that echoed in the empty room. The seat Hagrid had occupied was in between Professor McGonogall, who always sat to Dumbledore's direct right, and a teacher Harry wasn't familiar with. He walked around the table, and awkwardly took his seat (which was about double the size of the other chairs lining the table), unsure of what he should say or do.
"Are you going to eat, Mr. Potter? Or shall I inform the House Elves that their food is no longer up to snuff?" McGonogall asked him tersely.
"Uh, no, sorry Professor. Right..." Harry replied, loading up his plate with varying amounts of eggs, sausage, and toast. Harry ate slowly, careful to act proper around his Professors. A few minutes into the breakfast, McGonogall spoke once more.
"Well, I'll be going now." She said, rising from the table. "Mr. Potter, I expect to see you in my classroom no later than by the end of the hour." Harry turned his head to her.
"What do you need me for, Professor?" Harry asked curiously.
"Your schoolwork, of course." McGonogall replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Harry choked on a bit of toast, and the witch to his left laughed heartily. He turned to her.
"Sorry my dear, I'm not laughing at you- oh well, I suppose I am." The witch said with a heavy Irish accent. She was a small woman, with a tiny face, and long straight black hair that whose top was hidden by a crooked witch's hat. "I'm Professor Babbling, I teach Ancient Runes up on the sixth floor. Nice to formally make your acquaintance Mr. Potter." She explained. Harry swallowed hard.
"Pleasure to meet you Professor, really, and sorry but," Harry said quickly, before swiveling back to face McGonogall, "What schoolwork, Professor? It's summer holiday."
McGonogall set her mouth in a line with a barely audible, "Hmph."
"Mr. Potter this summer you're going to be reviewing your education thus far. We need to make sure that your magic gets used to casting spells at the proper level again. Surely Professor Dumbledore informed you of this-" Professor McGonogall turned to her left, where Dumbledore was talking animatedly with Professor Flitwick.
"The most brilliant charm I'd ever seen Filius," He said loudly, "Really, very inventive. Quite clever." Dumbledore added, trying and failing to make it seem as if he hadn't heard Professor McGonogall. She shook her head slightly.
"By the end of the hour, Mr. Potter."
Professor McGonogall was sitting at her desk, her tiny round glasses on the tip of her nose as she scribbled something on a long worn piece of parchment. Harry quietly sidled in through the doorway, and sat down at his usual seat toward the back of the class. McGonogall looked up at him.
"Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, Professor?" Harry replied.
"Would it not be wise to sit at one of the tables up front?" She suggested. Harry mentally kicked himself, swiping up his bag.
"Right, yeah, sorry." He said, making his way to the front. She shook her head slowly, before rising and brandishing her wand. She wordlessly summoned a box of matchsticks. Harry was a bit insulted that he was being made to do first year spells like a show pony.
But...
Harry could not for the better part of an hour transfigure the matchstick into a correct needle. He could always make it a needle, he had not lost the theory or practicality behind it, but the power he was putting behind the simple spell was just too much. When McGonogall tried to initially inspect his work, she couldn't even lift it, being caught totally off guard and grabbing the desk for support.
The needle, while correct in proportions, was far too dense. Harry was pouring way too much power into the transfiguration, and the metal always grew ridiculously compact and heavy. Extremely heavy. Finally, after about an hour of frustrating non-progress, Professor Lupin opened the door to the classroom.
"Professor Lupin? Is there something we can help you with?" Professor McGonogall asked kindly. Harry realized suddenly that had never really seen these two interact.
"No, no. I was actually wondering if you would care for any help in your lesson. Now that the students- well, most of the students are gone, I've been struck with a surprising little to do." Lupin explained. "That is of course, not to say that you're incapable. We all know you're the finest Hogwarts has to offer." He said with a wink. Harry thought this was particularly strange. He had never seen anyone wink at Professor McGonogall.
"Nonsense Lupin," she said, swatting her hand as if to swat the compliment out of the air, "We'd be happy of your help."
"Well, what are we working with?" Professor Lupin asked, making his way to Harry. He sat on the desk to Harry's left- sat on it! Harry had never seen anyone sit on a desk in McGonogall's classroom, teacher or not.
"Uhm," Harry said after a moment, "Turning matchsticks into needles, sir. I've got it down for the most part but the needles keep coming out a bit..." Harry trailed off, eyeing the needle on his desk.
"Well I don't see anything wrong with it." Lupin replied, hopping off the desk and walking in front of Harry's. He made to pick up the needle.
"Wait, Sir!" Harry tried, but it was too late.
"What seems to be the- woah!" Lupin's knees bucked at the unexpected pressure, and his elbows hit the desk with a loud and painful thud.
"Merlin's beard!" He exclaimed, trying to lift himself up. Professor McGonogall tried to suppress it, it would look totally unprofessional, but she couldn't, and she began laughing.
Harry was taken aback, completely ignoring Professor Lupin who idly rubbed his arms over his coat. Harry was transfixed by the sound of McGonogall laughing- actually laughing! It wasn't loud or boisterous, but nor was it quiet and subtle. Harry thought it was almost like passing someone famous on the street, someone you never expected to meet. She laughed heartily for a full minute.
"Come on Professor, really..." Lupin said bashfully, still rubbing his arms.
"I'm sorry, Remus, sorry- oh..." McGonogall conjured a handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of her eyes, "'Cleverest of the Marauders!'" She said in her Scottish accent, before laughing again. Harry thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
"Well, I think I know what the problem is. I have an idea, anyway." Lupin expressed as Professor McGonogall calmed herself down.
"What am I doing wrong, Professor? I've been able to turn a matchstick into a needle since my first week at Hogwarts!" Harry said in an exasperated sort of way, setting his wand down on the desk, and crossing his arms.
"Harry do you remember when I taught you how to cast a Patronus?" Lupin asked, propping himself back up on a desk, which Harry still saw as absurd.
"Yeah, of course."
"Then you'll remember what I told you to do with the memory." Lupin said. Harry nodded.
"You said you wanted me to let it fill me up." Harry said. He felt very confident and practiced in that particular charm.
"Right, right." Lupin said, "Well right now I want you to try the opposite."
"Huh?" Harry replied rather dumbly. McGonogall was watching their interaction with keen interest.
"I want you to not care," Lupin expressed with a small smile, "After all, a week ago you could transform a matchstick into a needle in your sleep. Watch, Accio Matchstick!" And a matchstick flew into Lupin's waiting hand.
"Now observe closely what I do here," Lupin said, holding the matchstick between two fingers. He slowly set it on Harry's desk, and pulled his wand out of the inner pocket of his shabby cloak.
He tapped his wand to the matchstick, and it silently transformed into a perfect needle. He then picked it up.
"That's what I've been doing Professor!" Harry said, turning to Professor McGonogall, who had an inquisitive frown.
"No no, Harry, it's not!" Lupin expressed, tossing the needle aside and discarding it. "You're turning the tap up too far, the water is too hot and there's too much. Just turn it the tiniest bit Harry. All we need is the littlest bit of water. Now- Accio Matchstick Box!" Lupin cast, and the entire box flew into his hand. "Now you've got about..." Lupin began as he dug around the box, "Thirty or so more attempts."
Lupin pulled out a single matchstick and placed it in front of him. He tossed the box to the floor and in an unexpected turn of events he cast-
"Incendio." And the box burst into a small flame. Professor McGonogall simply raised an eyebrow. "I however, think you only need the one."
Harry gulped. The prospect of him struggling to do a transfiguration so simple should have been laughable. 'Wait,' he thought, 'It is laughable. This is the thing you learn in your first lesson. This isn't a Patronus- This is stupid!' Harry thought to himself.
He tapped his wand to the matchstick in a way most anticlimactic. It transformed without a hitch. But as had all the other ones Harry had transfigured. Harry supposed the real test would be-
Professor Lupin plucked it up without effort, rolling it in his fingers and then tapping the tip of it against his palm. "Ouch- sharp."
Harry let out a sigh of relief, setting his wand down and rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.
"Remus Lupin." Professor McGonogall said, drawing their attention, "That was one of the most brilliant displays of teaching I've ever seen." She praised. Lupin flushed, and ducked his head.
"And what about me?" Harry said in faux jealousy, "I'm the one who performed that masterful bit of magic in the first place!"
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, for a moment.
"Hardly, Mr. Potter. We've a lot more work to do."
And they did.
Harry would meet with his Professors on alternating days. On Mondays, he would be with Professor McGonogall, moving steadily up the ladder of transfiguration. Harry had been nervous about animal transfigurations, but McGonogall had called his worry, "A load of hogwash," and he continued on.
On Wednesdays he did charms with Flitwick. He quite liked these classes. Professor Flitwick had always been animated and encouraging, but having him teach you one on one was truly something special.
"Oh good-o Mr. Potter! First try on that one!" He'd cried merrily, as Harry turned a tea cozy from red to blue. Flitwick told Harry about his mother's proclivity for the subject, and this inspired him even further. And though Harry had always had a fondness for charms, his favorite lessons were on Fridays. These were the lessons he had with Professor Lupin.
Ever since Lupin had arrived at the beginning of third year, Defense Against the Dark Arts had easily claimed his title of favorite class. Learning to ward off all kinds of dark creatures, hands on experience, and even an obstacle course as a final exam. These summer classes were even better.
Professor Lupin had started by giving Harry a rundown of the spells he should have learned in his first and second year, were it not for his seriously lacking standard of teachers. Harry quickly mastered the Knockback Jinx, the Stickfast hex, the Ebublio Jinx, and a smattering of other relatively harmless but 'Wicked,' spells. They quickly worked through these, and Lupin decided to teach Harry some more advanced spells so as to not waste time. Harry learned the Stunning Spell, how to conjure a Shield, and even how to deflect hexes. Harry's personal favorite had been one that wasn't from any book at all. It was the Levicorpus spell, that would hoist the target up by their ankle and dangle them there. Professor Lupin had said it was one of Harry's dad's favorites. He was especially pleased when Harry mastered that one on the first go (more so for his sake than for Harry's).
In all of his classes, Harry had been making great strides. It would be no time at all before he was caught up to where he ought to be.
Outside of his tutelage, Harry had also devoted a great amount of his free time to spending time with Hagrid. Harry loved the comforting atmosphere of Hagrid's hut, drinking tea with his first friend as he recounted stories about his several encounters with great beasts. Harry especially loved the story Hagrid told him about the time he had attempted to domesticate a Chimera while traveling on a trip to Greece.
When Harry had first met Hagrid, it seemed like he was meant for his hut. Like he had always and would always be there, waiting to welcome him for a spot of tea or just some company. However, as Harry learned through their talks, Hagrid was a very well traveled man. He had been to Africa, The South Americas, and most all countries surrounding the British Isles.
"Hogwarts is beau'iful, but sometimes I just like ta' remember wha's out there, y'know? 'Ave I ever told you tha's actually wha' firs' got me interested in magical creatures? Travelin' roun' with me dad."
Another interesting development was his relationship with Professor Babbling. Harry sat next to her at the staff table almost every breakfast, lunch, and dinner, where she would always chat him up about her subject, which Harry surprisingly found more than interesting.
"So this symbol..." Harry said, using his quill to finish his precise drawing, "Is fire. And if I tap my wand to it-" Harry said, raising his wand before Professor Babbling snatched it from his hands.
"Yes, very good Mr. Potter. That is indeed the rune for fire." Professor Babbling explained exasperatedly, "And if you were to touch your wand to it, then yes it would activate. It would then ignite the staff table underneath, you know, the wooden staff table we're sitting at. Do try to use your head Mr. Potter..."
Even Snape, with his foul mood and passing sneers whenever they crossed each other, could not dampen Harry's spirits. After Snape's outburst in the Shrieking Shack, and thereafter in the Hospital Wing, Harry viewed him in a much different light. Harry thought him a sad man.
And though Harry was having the summer of his life, he still missed his friends desperately. He had anxiously awaited Hermione's first corresponding, so anxiously, that he actually wrote her first. He'd sent her a letter talking about all of the different spells he was learning with Professor Lupin, or how interesting he found it when Professor Lupin suggested that the best plan of defense against a banshee was using a deafening hex on yourself.
Hermione in return, would always express how jealous of him she was. She claimed she'd, 'Give up everything I own in the whole world to be able to have the Hogwarts Library all to myself for an entire summer.' However, Hermione also held the dual stance of showering Harry in compliments and praise whenever he'd learn a new spell, or learn how to transcribe a new rune. Harry, though he'd never admit it to anyone, would often reread Hermione's letters several times while he lay bored at night.
Harry rarely saw Dumbledore over the course of July, catching him only sparsely at mealtimes. Harry wondered if he was dedicating this summer to the same task he had last summer; Finding the objects Voldemort had infused with his soul. Harry tried not to pay it too much mind, instead focusing on his studies.
By the time July was close to wrapping up Harry was well caught up with where he should be, and had plans with all three teachers to continue to advance himself. McGonogall especially was impressed with his dedication. He had always been okay at Transfiguration, but he'd really start coming into his own, in all subjects.
Harry finally crossed paths with Dumbledore one Tuesday afternoon, as he was strolling the halls absent-mindedly, using the map Professor Lupin had returned to him to explore Hogwarts to the best of his ability. Dumbledore's eyes fell over Harry and he beamed.
"Ah, Harry! I was hoping to find you." said Dumbledore, approaching the young man. "I'm having a visitor this evening to discuss something involving next term, I was wondering if you might like to join me?"
Harry was rather confused as to why Dumbledore wanted Harry to join him in what he assumed was something akin to a business meeting, but he truly had nothing better to do.
"Sure thing, Professor."
"Excellent, excellent. Shall we?"
And Dumbledore led the way to his office. Harry was quite perplexed by this sudden course of action.
"Who are we meeting with, sir?" Harry asked as they passed the stone gargoyle, who simply moved out of Dumbledore's way without need of a password. Dumbledore opened the door to his office, and Harry looked inside.
By Dumbledore's desk, there was a hunched over, older man in a blue tweed jacket. In one hand, the man held a briefcase, and with the other hand the man was gently petting the top of Fawkes' head, whispering to him softly. Dumbledore cleared his throat, and the man spun around.
"Harry, I'd like you to meet my former student and good friend, Newt Scamander."
"Harry, I'd like you to meet my former student and good friend, Newt Scamander." Dumbledore introduced, as the man in the blue tweed jacket, Newt, made his way over to them. He had a large, very worn briefcase that swung at his side. One of the latches, long broken, made a clinking sound as he walked.
Harry thought him a very benign looking man, if a bit odd. His thin face had clear signs of aging, though underneath a layer wrinkles and frown lines you could still make out some of his boyish features; Newt's wide and curiosity filled eyes. He also had rather full and fluffy hair, even though long streaks of white threatened to dominate the still blonde curls.
"Hello there, Newt Scamander, pleasure." Newt said in an overtly polite way. He moved his rather large briefcase to his other hand, and offered his now free one to Harry to shake. Harry wondered fleetingly why he held onto the briefcase, instead of setting it down somewhere.
Harry shook the sheepish man's hand, as he wracked his brains for where he had heard the name Newt Scamander before. He couldn't find it.
"Nice to meet you too, sir." Harry expressed politely. Their hands fell away from each other. Harry felt entirely awkward; he wasn't the best at introductions. Newt, however, odd as he appeared, looked perfectly content to bask in the uncomfortable silence. Harry looked up to Dumbledore for an escape, but Dumbledore simply watched them with keen interest.
"Gryffindor, then?" Newt asked after a moment.
"I'm sorry?" Harry replied.
"Your house." Newt said, indicated to Harry's school robes with a pointed finger, "I was a Hufflepuff puff in my day."
As Newt spoke, Harry noticed, two thin, long, tiny green hands worm their way out of his coat pocket, and pull to lift a thin, long, tiny green face which peered out at the scene unfolding.
"Bowtruckle!" Harry exclaimed loudly in recognition, "You've got a Bowtruckle!" The cogs in Harry's mind had finally begun to turn. Newt cracked a grin, eyes flicking to Dumbledore before turning his attention to the small creature in his pocket.
"Old habits, ya know?" Newt smiled, wiggling his little finger at his Bowtruckle companion, who tracked it with interest. Harry finally remembered where he had heard the name Newt Scamander.
"Hagrid!" Harry said suddenly. Newt, still smiling, cocked his head in confusion with the boys sudden proclamation. "Sorry. You wrote Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them!"
Newt cracked a grin, looking at Dumbledore, and then back to Harry.
"That I did," Newt replied calmly, "And did I hear you mention Hagrid?"
"Oh- right, yeah. Hagrid teaches Care of Magical Creatures, he adores you!" Harry exclaimed earnestly. Newt smiled again.
"And don't I know it? Hagrid had been sending me letters since he was-"
The floo in Dumbledore's office suddenly roared to life, and a woman's head poked through the green flames.
"Newt! Newt what did he say?" The woman said in a frantic whisper. All three heads now stared at the fireplace with varying degrees of curiosity. Newt fixed the fireplace with an exasperated glance and a sigh.
"I haven't actually asked him yet, Queenie. I thought it might be terribly rude to open our conversation with a request, actually." Newt said in a way that made Harry feel like this sort of thing happened quite often between the two. Dumbledore's eyebrows had risen to the top of his head, and he looked utterly amused.
"Oh, whatever. I'm comin' through-" The woman said with a heavy New York accent. With a fresh roar of emerald flames, a woman stepped through.
This woman was different to any Harry had ever met. She dressed regally, as if she'd been dropped out of the roarin' twenties. It was an outfit that should have looked supremely pompous on any other person, but Harry thought it fit her well. Her outfit was also entirely pink.
And though she was clearly an older witch, Harry thought her, 'Still quite pretty.'
"Aw, thanks doll. Ya know you look pretty distinguished yourself." She said suddenly, winking at Harry. Harry looked dumbfounded, blushed, and sputtered for a moment. Dumbledore's eyebrows flew even higher.
"A legilimens," Dumbledore said appraisingly, "That's quite the uncommon gift."
"Thank ya." The woman replied to Dumbledore, smiling wide with her pearly white teeth. The woman had an uncannily bubbly disposition.
"Albus Dumbledore, Queenie Goldstein." Newt introduced, gesturing from one to the other, "Queenie, Albus."
"Ah, so you're Tina's sister then." Dumbledore said in recognition, "Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, but I must ask, is there something that we can help you with?" Dumbledore asked curiously, folding his hands at his middle.
"Oh, I just thought I'd pop in, settle a little something between Newt and myself." Queenie said simply. She had begun walking the perimeter of Dumbledore's office, inspecting it.
"Oh? And what might that be?" Dumbledore inquired. Newt sighed.
"It's- it's this old debate we've had, for ages really. I think it's quite foolish." Newt explained.
"Debate?" asked Harry.
"About which one of our schools was better. Her's, Ilvermorny or mine-"
"Hogwash." Queenie supplied, smiling over her shoulder. Harry made a nasty face on reaction, while Dumbledore chuckled. Newt looked embarrassed.
"Ah, quite, quite. Well then, maybe Harry here would be interested in showing you around our lovely castle. Perhaps change your mind. What do you say Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes falling on the boy.
"Uh," Harry began lamely, finding no appeal in the sudden request, "Sure, yeah, no problem." Queenie smiled at him.
"Excellent, well then, if you would be so keen. Newt and myself have much of importance to discuss, after all." Dumbledore said, ushering them out politely with his words.
Harry and Queenie exited his office, and stood awkwardly side by side in the hall for a moment.
Harry wasn't quite sure where to begin. He adored Hogwarts more than any place on Earth, but now that he was challenged with deciding the spots he praised above all others, he found it quite difficult. It was true, he had nothing better to do when Dumbledore had approached him earlier, but he hadn't expected to get stuck chaperoning some random witch. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to make a list of locations he could show her; The Quidditch Pitch, the Forest, the Black Lake, Hagrid's hut...
"Nah, none of those will do," Queenie said next to him. He met her eyes, uneasy, and a bit annoyed.
"I'm sorry, but how are you doing that?" Harry asked.
"I'm a legilimens sweetie, didn'tcha hear Dumbledore?" Queenie said. She spoke with an inflection that made it sound like she was especially happy to be saying every word.
"Right, sorry, I don't actually know... what that is." Harry confessed.
"Geez, they really must not teach nothin' at this school." Queenie said pompously. Harry leveled his features, but on the inside he had a little tantrum. What right did she have to insult Hogwarts-
"Oh I'm just messing with ya, lighten up buttercup!" She said, playfully pushing his arm. Harry shook his head, as if to expel her from it. He really didn't like this feeling.
"A legilimens is a person that can read someone else's thoughts and feelin's. I'm kinda like a psychic." Queenie told him, whispering the last part as if it were a secret.
"Okay, that makes sense." Harry said slowly, struck by how childlike someone so far his elder could act. "Can you... turn it off?" Harry asked. He already knew the answer.
"Nuh-uh"
Harry had decided that since he couldn't come to a conclusion on one proper location, he'd just take her through all of them. Harry led her first to the Gryffindor Common Room, which she decided bluntly was, "Cozy, but a bit red for my tastes."
Harry stood by the table he, Hermione and Ron often occupied when they did their homework. He looked out of the window, onto the grounds and had a pang of longing in his chest. He stayed for a moment, summer light pouring over him, before being struck with an idea.
"I know!" Harry exclaimed aloud. Queenie was already smiling at him when he turned to her.
"Follow me," Harry instructed, leading her out of the common room. As Harry politely helped her lower herself from the portrait hole, Queenie thought that the young boy didn't quite have a grasp on how difficult it is to surprise someone who can read your mind.
But still, she followed him happily as he led them up a few flights of stairs, down a few hallways, and finally up a spiral staircase that opened up into the Astronomy Tower.
"Oh, wow..." Queenie said, holding her mouth open just barely. Her breath had caught somewhere in her throat. "It's gorgeous..." She said looking out onto the beautiful fields of Hogwarts, before observing the castle's great towers and battlements. Harry pointed to a spot off in the distance.
"That's the Quidditch pitch. I'm seeker for my house team." Harry added.
"It's beautiful." Queenie said honestly, placing her hands on the railing and drinking in the view. Harry was proud, watching her engage in the beauty that was Hogwarts.
Harry also rested upon the railing and looked out. Hogwarts really was so beautiful. From here, they could just make out Hagrid's hut, and Harry quite enjoyed how the light danced off of the still surface of the Black Lake. The entirety of the Forest seemed to rustle with synchronicity as a gust blew across the grounds.
They sat in silence for a short few minutes, basking in its beauty.
And then the scene before him fell into the background, as Harry's mind began to wander where it always would. Where it always had since that night with the Dementor.
'Lily! It's him! Take Harry and run!'
He'd heard it over and over in his head since that night, and no matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn't banish the image from behind his eyes, the image of Harry murdering his parents 'No, not me. It was Voldemort,' he tell himself repeatedly. But still he couldn't escape the image of Lily Potter's body falling limply, dead. The way his mother's head bounced unfeeling when it smacked the floor of his nursery. The worst part of it, Harry thought, was how he could still remember Voldemort's feeling of joy, of pure elation as he killed them. The thought often made Harry sick.
Like every time he'd think of that night, even briefly, the memory became inescapable. Anytime he'd try to think of something else, he'd just see Voldemort murdering his father on that staircase. They really did look so alike...
Harry was roused from his thoughts when he heard a sniffle from his right. He had almost forgotten he wasn't alone. He turned his head from the gorgeous view of Hogwarts to the woman beside him. Queenie was turned away from him, but Harry could still see her glistening tears running down her cheek by her profile.
Harry wondered if she really had been that moved by the view of the castle.
And then his blood turned to ice.
She had been in his head, and she must have had seen. Harry started to panic, he felt like running-
"I'm sorry doll." Queenie said to him, turning to face him finally. Harry was unsure of what to do, and very scared. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean'ta" Queenie started, tears flowing freely down her face. Only now did she seem to act her age, "No kid should have to walk around with all that in their head." She said to Harry, staring at him behind watery eyes.
Harry had frozen up, and when she extended her arms to him, he stayed that way.
"Can I?" Queenie asked, arms outstretched. Harry didn't reply, but Queenie still softly wrapped her arms around him.
She rested her head atop his, held him gently, and sobbed quietly into his hair. Though Harry didn't cry, staring wide and empty eyed at the tree top lining the Forbidden Forest, he felt very much like he should.
They spent only a couple more moments there, before deciding to retire to Dumbledore's study. They walked silently, the awkwardness between them seemed to have vanished. Harry didn't say anything. He wouldn't know what to say even if he wanted to.
"Jelly Baby," Harry said in a quiet voice to the Gargoyle, who shifted to the side for them. Queenie winked at the Gargoyle as she passed.
Harry and Queenie reached the top of the staircase, and Harry went to knock, before halting as his hand stalled a few inches from the door. He stood that way, hand held aloft, frozen and unsure.
"It's okay sweetie." Queenie said from next to him. Harry looked up at her. "I won't tell nobody." Her eyes were comforting and soft. "I swear." Harry looked up at her with a vagrant expression, a little lost for what he should be feeling.
"Thank you."
She raised her hand, and brought down her own knuckles upon the door before he could. Harry deposited his hand in his pocket, and started picking at the fabric. There was no answer, though they could hear the voices emanating from the office within.
"A Sphinx?" Dumbledore said unbelieving, "Newt, as I've mentioned multiple times now, the Tournament is meant to be safer this time around. I hardly think a Sphinx would be any level of appropriate."
"Dumbledore, please, Nora's a pacifist! She wouldn't hurt anyone, especially not a student!" Newt argued. Queenie wrapped her knuckles against the door once more.
"You mean to tell me, of all the creatures you have access to, you'd like me to settle on a Sphinx, despite all safety measures?" Dumbledore asked.
"I'm telling you it is safe! Nora has sworn off violence!" Newt tried, desperately.
"Pray tell, Newt, how exactly did you come across this creature?" Dumbledore inquired. Newt clicked his tongue, but couldn't explain himself, as Queenie had decided in that moment that she was tired of waiting.
The door swung open to reveal the two men sitting across from each other at the desk. What was particularly odd, however, was that Fawkes had perched himself on Newt Scamander's lap and was nipping at his curly grey locks.
"Ah, do come in. My apologies, I mustn't have heard you. I was in the middle of a particularly tricky conversation with Mr. Scamander here." Dumbledore said, fixing his eyes to Newt once more. Fawkes trilled.
"Oh come now Dumbledore, please! I'm telling you Nora is a perfectly peaceful Sphinx. All she's ever wanted is to travel the-" Newt argued, but Queenie interrupted him.
"Oh Newt shush up, the old man has been on board at least the last fifteen minutes. Brain like his, he's way too interested in meetin' Nora to turn you down now." Queenie said to the pair. Newt turned back to face her, and then Dumbledore. Dumbledore just smiled.
"Yes, well," Dumbledore tugged on his beard, "Negotiations do lose a bit of their fun when in the presence of those with your gift, do they not?"
"Hardly! It's written all over your face you silly old coot!" Queenie replied, putting her tongue between her teeth. Dumbledore laughed, leaning back in his chair and stroking his beard. Newt turned to face Harry and Queenie.
"Right, and about that," Newt said, still idly stroking Fawkes' feathers, "I hope she wasn't too invasive, Harry. I've tried for years to get her to respect people's privacy, and it's a skill she's proven quite incapable of learning." Newt finished with a tiny glare to Queenie.
Harry wasn't sure what to say, and Queenie must have sensed this, "Oh, not at all. This boy may be a hero, but his head is as dull as a box of rocks." Newt gave her an odd sort of look, while Harry exhaled deeply.
"I take it that your opinion of our lovely school hasn't been swayed then?" Dumbledore asked her. She looked to her left, down at Harry, and her brown eyes met his green ones.
"Oh, I dunno. I guess Hogwarts does feel kinda home-y."
A/N: right so, this chapter was originally going to be two chapters, but I didn't think either had quite enough substance to stand on their own. That being said, I honestly don't feel either of these chapters are the best I've written, but they're both ideas I wanted to explore.
There's a lil extra in the POA movie, where Newt Scamander shows up on the Marauders Map, and since then it's always been my head cannon that he was there helping Dumbledore with arrangements for the Triwizard.
Final note, I really don't want to make an OP Harry, but I also think that having a magically competent Harry is important. I love the movies, but can't stand how little Harry actually performs magically.
p.s. final final note I really appreciate all the reviews, you guys are v kind and make me wanna write more and more lol