October 1996, Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry's second lesson with Dumbledore
"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive and, apparently, friendless? He did not want help or companionship on his trip to Diagon Alley. He preferred to operate adult Voldemort is the same. You will hear many of his Death Eaters claiming that they are in his confidence, that they alone are close to him, even understand him. They are deluded. Lord Voldemort has never had a friend, nor do I believe that he has ever wanted one. And lastly – I hope you are not too sleepy to pay attention to this, Harry – the young Tom Riddle liked to collect trophies. You saw the box of stolen articles he had hidden in his room. These were taken from victims of his bullying behaviour, souvenirs, if you will, of particularly unpleasant bits of magic. Bear in mind this magpie-like tendency, for this, particularly, will be important later." (Albus Dumbledore in J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Bloomsbury, Chapter 13, p. 259-260)
Harry really was tired now and Dumbledore dismissed him soon afterwards. Making his way back to Gryffindor Tower the boy could not help to think of little Tom Riddle's treasures: the timble, a yo-yo and the tarnished mouth-organ. It made him think of broken toy-soldiers, carefully saved stubs of crayons and pens and that old pin-brooch of coloured glass stones with the pin missing of Aunt Petunia. While Dudley had stomped on the poor soldiers and then thrown them in a corner he would not have wanted Harry to have them. Technically they were stolen. As well as the crayons and pens. Aunt Petunia rather threw them away when they got too short for her darling son's stubby fingers to grab them comfortably than giving them to her nephew. Sometimes, when he got away from Dudley and his gang in the park Harry used to sit high up in a tree, holding the brooch to catch sunbeams in the cheep glass stones, imagining himself a prince far, far away from Little Whinging. Cherishing shiny things, quite like a magpie. Oh yes, Harry Potter understood little Tom Riddle very well.
The next morning, after a night of rather disjointed dreams, Harry made his way down to breakfast. Ron and Hermione were not yet in the Great Hall, the Gryffindor table nearly empty. Munching on a toast he thought further on what he had learned the day before. During an earlier session Dumbledore had mentioned the end of 1926 as the time of Tom Riddle's birth. That meant 1937 as the year the young boy had had a visit of the then Transfiguration professor. Harry wanted to check with Hermione but he seemed to remember The Blitz occurring three years later. After his second year Tom Riddle would have returned to war-ridden London. The orphanage likely being in one of the poorer parts of the city, near the Docks or East End, where the bombs had hit hardest. Had Tom begged to stay at Hogwarts, too?
Harry tried not to dwell too much on the young Tom Riddle, orphan, but during the Christmas holidays, his friends all gone home to their families, he could not but think further on what he had seen and what the headmaster had said. The young wizard had written everything down as he remembered and then had made a chart Hermione would have been proud of: facts, statements, conclusions. It was disheartening to see that a lot of the three aligned with his life at the Dursleys, if you substituted Dumbledore's opinions with the ones of people who believed the Dursleys' lies about their nephew. Of course Harry was self-sufficient. He had to be, as no one had ever looked out for him. Secretive? Yes, check on that, too. It had never boded well for him to tell other people even a smidgen of what went on at 4, Privet Drive. Never having someone to rely on and before Hogwarts never having one to share secrets with, Harry recognised his habit of playing his cards close to his chest. He had a temper and was prone to rash decisions, but some monumental parts of his personality where kept carefully hidden even from Hermione and Ron. Hermione had grown up with loving and supportive parents. She was perceptive but also easy to distract. Ron, even after the twin's rescue after their second year, was still so blindsided by Harry's fame and wealth that he tended to overlook even the most obvious signs, having seen his dorm mate in the showers. Once the youngest Weasley boy made a comment about the bruises on Harry's back. After a jokingly presented explanation about Dudley taking up boxing Ron had launched in a long tale of his own woes at the twins' hands.
Neville and Luna might suspect something, the first being at least emotionally abused as well and the second with a lot of experience with bullying, but so far had never pressed for Harry's confidence. Just as well. Would this mean he was friendless, too? Were friends who knew your deepest secrest? Who stood by you, no matter what? If that were so, he was just as friendless as Tom. Luna came true at the oddest moments and Harry suspected that somewhere, sometime Neville would surprise them all but he did not feel that he could count on them consistently. Ron would drop him like a hot potatoe if he showed more of his Slytherin tendencies and Hermione would always argue to stick to the rules, even if that was pointless. She would get her parents to make a complaint to Surrey Social Services. And then it would come to naught, like the complaints of his kindergarden teacher and of some mothers on the playground. And Uncle Vernon would remember the next holidays, when Hermione and her parents were vacationing in France or whereever well-meaning middle class dentists took their vacations.
This train of thought let Harry think of how and why every responsible adult seemed to forget about their suspicions sooner or later. A geas probably? Something around his file at Social Services like a Notice-Me-Not? Maybe around his whole person? What about the teachers here at Hogwarts? He could not be the only child with problems here at the school. Harry decided that a trip to the library was in order. With neither Ron nor Hermione around no one would think it funny if he went there to check up on the charta of Hogwarts or rooted around for books on wizarding law or wizarding child services. Or maybe even find out whether wizards had books about abuse and trauma.
The first hour in the library yielded a few interesting results. Apparently the Heads of House were supposed to hold meetings with students individually at least twice a year. Harry had had one talk with Professor McGonagall last term about his career options but otherwise there had only been a few house meetings. He recalled a rarely used notice board in the common room – Gryffindors tended to announce things by shouting there rather than crafting notices – with a list where students could book slots during McGonagall's office hours. The twins had been teasing Percy about putting his name down there at least every other week. Harry thought it unlikely that anyone with a serious problem would use this opportunity. Susan Bones once had talked about having tea with Professor Sprout but otherwise the young wizard did not know whether the part of Hogwarts' charta about individual meetings was observed in the other houses as lacksadaisycal as in Gryffindor. Professor Flitwick would surely have found out about the bullying of Luna Lovegood then, wouldn't he? And Snape? Here Harry had to snigger imagining the Dungeon Bat having a heart-to-heart talk with say Millicent Bulstrode. Or Marcus Flint. Before he could search further for more books the dinner bell rang.
In the Great Hall only one table was set, as just a handful of pupils were staying over Christmas and a lot of teachers had gone home to their families as well. Looking around Harry wondered why he was only seeing pupils from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff besides himself. He asked Anthony Goldstein about it.
"The Slytherins hold a Yule Dinner in their common room. Observing old rites is frowned upon, that's why none of them is here. Hogwarts does not look at customs different from what the majority of Muggles in Britain observe kindly." The last was said with some bitterness. Harry thought fast and had an epiphany, having heard about a private Diwali ceremony of the Patil sisters and some of their fellow believers once.
"You mean you are not allowed to celebrate Chanukkah or Passover here? Or go home to your family to celebrate?"
"No, Potter. I have been lucky that the date of my own bar mitzvah fell on school-holidays, I have not been allowed to attend the one of my little brother last month."
"But why ever not?"
"It is deemed by some that some of the traditional rituals of Judaism, Hinduism or Islam are too close to the Old Ways of the Pure-blood families' customs and therefore desensitise impressable children and open a door for dark magic."
A carrot nearly fell from Harry's mouth at hearing Anthony's answer, which, upon closer observation, sounded awfully like some quotation.
"What absolute hogwash! Exorcism and witch-burning are light practises or what?"
Harry had gotten quite loud in his answer and the Ravenclaw next to him shushed him.
"Quiet! Dumbledore is already looking at us, let's talk about this later."
Later Anthony loudly invited Harry to a gobstones competition in the Ravenclaw common room. Once there the younger years indeed started that strange game while Harry and his conspirant withdrew into a quiet corner. Harry cast the Muffliato to be on the safe side. The Ravenclaw had a few books prepared, different editions of `Hogwarts A History´ and other historical texts.
"Look, Potter, I think you should know what I am going to tell you - you need all the help you can get with the scrapes you get in – but I want your word that you are going to treat the information with the care it deserves. No jumping into things like a true Gryffindor."
"The hat wanted to put me into Slytherin. I am quite capable of strategic thinking. I give you my word."
"Very well. What do you know about catgorisations of magic? Of old traditions? The different factions in the wizarding world and the history of the ministry?"
At Harry's blank look Anthony sighed.
"This is going to be a long evening."
And it was. After three hours Harry's mind was spinning. Never mind the history of the categorizations of magic or how and why the prominent families had become thus or what was considered the Old Ways – why had he never heard about all these things? Why weren't there any orientation classes for Muggle-borns or Muggle-raised? Why had he never heard about his family's seat on the Wizengamot or even received any statements from Gringotts?
He thanked Anthony and made his way back to the Gryffindor dorm. The Ravenclaw knew a lot. More knowledge could surely be found in the library and Neville would be a source, too. But he felt he needed an adult to talk to. Harry forced down bile as he considered why Dumbledore had kept him totally in the dark. The prophecy came to his mind. It seemed that the headmaster was quite sure that Harry would not need to know about his heritage, as he would not have any future beyond his last confrontation with Voldemort. Rage overwhelmed the young wizard. While usually more concerned with his studies and the day-to-day drama that was his life at Hogwarts he had formed tentative plans for his life after the war. Plans that included a job, a family and yes, a life. Using his breathing exercises – only after Sirius' death had he taken Hermione's pointers for clearing his mind seriously – Harry calmed down. This was not a situation for storming in and demanding answers. Dumbledore would twinkle, maybe look a bit apologetic, and spout platitudes. Remus was a fan of the headmaster, even after his friend's death, and still in no shape to be helpful. Mr and Mrs Weasley were unlikely to listen to any critic of the old mage, too. With a weariness not fitting his age Harry made his way up to the empty dorm.
