CHAPTER NINE
Three Christmas Parties, Two Shady Conversations and One Secret Kiss
Harry was a bit of a drag on his friends the next day. Classes were over for the term, and everyone was spending time with their friends before they went their separate ways for the two-week holiday. However, instead of spending his day off exploring the castle and grounds as he usually would, Harry sat on his favourite armchair by the fireplace, sketchpad, and pencil in hand. His friends, concerned with his morose air, had tried wheedling out his troubles, but when he wouldn't tell them, they simply joined him in the common room all day, playing games, eating snacks and just chatting while he drew, forgoing whatever trouble they had been planning without any fuss. Harry knew he should feel bad about ruining their day, but he was just grateful for their company.
"You know, you're actually quite good." Anthony sounded surprised, as he peeked at Harry's sketchpad. "I've never seen you draw anything before. Aside from Runes." He added.
"You think so?" Harry had never shown anyone his drawings before, and he hadn't touched the art supplies Sara and Jade had given him. In fact, he hadn't drawn anything since he had come to Hogwarts. Years ago, Lupin had seen him aimlessly doodling in one of his notebooks and had promptly enrolled him into a children's art class, paying for it out of his own pocket. He had encouraged the hobby as a way for Harry to understand his own feelings on matters, and to control his impulses, but he hadn't needed to for months. Not until last night.
"Yeah. I mean it's not exactly accurate, Hogwarts has seven towers, not nine, but I think I get what you're going for. This school can be a scary place sometimes." Anthony said this smoothly, as though he wasn't cutting to the very heart of the problem. Harry had known Anthony was intelligent almost immediately upon meeting him, but he really didn't give him enough credit sometimes.
Harry's sketch of Hogwarts castle was loose, more shapes than actual details, but his lines were thick, jagged and dark, with copious shading, and all of it was drawn from an angle, as though it were looming over the viewer. Harry had taken some liberties with the actual school, adding more floors and towers to make it even more imposing. He supposed, for someone who was as sharp and empathetic as Anthony was, it was basically a flashing neon sign asking for help.
"Don't tell Terry, but I think the stress from all the revision we did is finally starting to catch up with me."
Anthony smiled. "So even Mr. Outstanding has his limits."
"Mr. Outstanding?"
Anthony raised his eyebrows. "You haven't seen the notice board yet?"
Leaving Terry and Michael to their oddly serious discussion, Anthony showed him the latest addition to the notice board. The grades of each student were posted, as well as their rankings amongst their year mates. Harry wasn't all that surprised to see twelve Outstanding grades next to his name, but he was surprised to see his name at the very top of the First Years.
"I'm first?" He asked quietly. His body had begun to shake ever so slightly.
"I'm surprised you didn't see it. You were here when I woke up, so I thought you didn't care-"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Harry pumped his fist like he had just won another Quidditch match. "I'm the best! I'm number one!" He crowed. His entire body was vibrating with delight.
"Oh, calm down. It was only theoretical-"
"What was that number two?" Harry asked mockingly, as he cupped a hand around his ear. "I can't hear you over the sound of my own greatness. My academic superiority is untouchable! No one else can-"
"Alright, alright!" Anthony grimaced. "You're a really unpleasant victor, you know that? I can't believe I thought you were being humble earlier."
Harry's standing as the absolute greatest of all the First Years ("Don't be ridiculous!" Anthony sourly protested.) had cheered him up significantly. So much so that when evening drew near, he didn't pretend to feel sick like he had planned, but instead, simply followed his friends up to their dorms in order to get ready for Slughorn's Christmas party.
Anthony had been kind enough to lend him some formal clothes for the evening. A long black coat, almost militaristic in style, with its closed buttons, all the way to the high collar at his throat, had its solemn air undermined by the beautiful minute golden threaded designs that were all along the front and back, leaving his arms plain. The hose was simple and black, and the coat fell to his knees, with splits down the sides when it reached his waist. The high, buckled boots that Anthony had lent to him on Halloween now completed the look.
Harry thought he looked a bit silly, as no kid his age should ever look so fancy, but when he left his room he saw that both Terry and Michael wearing something similar in red and blue, respectively. As soon as he stepped out, both boys stopped talking abruptly.
Not taking this personally as the two were clearly planning some kind of trouble, Harry merely asked. "Did Anthony already go?"
Terry snorted from where he was leaning against the wall. "Nah. He just takes forever to get ready for stuff like this." He was fiddling with his already loosened collar. In contrast to his relaxed air, Michael looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"You alright?" Harry asked.
Michael nodded. "Yeah, but it's Robert's old suit, isn't it? It's a bit too tight for me."
Terry chuckled. "You eat more than anyone I've ever met. Be grateful it fits you at all." Michael cheeks reddened, and he approached Terry with his fist raised, but before he could hit him, Anthony's door opened.
"Everyone ready?" Anthony asked. His suit was similar to theirs, but it was a deep purple with gold lining, and his hair was trimmed as if he had just given himself a fresh cut.
"We were just waiting for you." Harry said. Anthony examined him critically.
"The suit fits you, but maybe you should comb your hair?"
Harry was offended. "I did comb my hair."
Anthony blinked. "But it looks the same as it always does."
"Because I comb it every day!"
Anthony looked appalled. "That's how your hair looks when you take care of it?!" Harry's embarrassment wasn't helped by the other two snickering, but before he could say anything, Anthony had already turned his attention to them.
"Terry, fix your collar and wipe your chin. You've got ink on it." Harry was surprised at how frantic Terry was when he began to wipe the dark green ink of his chin. "Michael, you look like you're about to burst from the seams. You should hope Robert hasn't left for the party yet, otherwise your hose might split." It was Harry's turn to laugh.
The four made their way to the common room, but before they could even get to the Sixth Years floor, Michael's trousers had already given up, as they all heard an incredibly loud tearing sound from behind them. The other three turned to see Michael running back up the stairs while covering his now underwear exposed backside. While Harry and Terry immediately fell into hysterics, Anthony continued on and got Robert by himself. The older boy arrived in no time, in a hurry to help his brother, and he frowned at them as he passed them on the staircase.
"It's not that funny." He chided them as he passed.
"Yes, it is!" Harry gasped out, which only made Terry laugh harder. Robert tried to appear stern, but Harry saw his mouth twitch as he passed.
A few minutes later, both brothers appeared back on the staircase. Michael was red faced and Robert was smirking. Harry and Terry had regained control over themselves by this point, but their laughter resumed when they caught sight of Michael's mortified expression. This time even Robert and Anthony joined in.
"I hate you all." Michael muttered as he trudged past.
Robert went back to his dorm, and the First Year Ravenclaw boys made their way to the party. Along the way, Terry made various ripping sounds with his mouth, trying to mimic the sound Michael's trousers had made as they tore apart, while Harry and Anthony judged him on his accuracy. Michael had tried to ignore them at first, but eventually, even he joined in.
Harry was in such a good mood, that by the time they had arrived at the Small Hall, he wasn't even thinking about last night's events. Which was good, as he didn't want his first sight of the wondrous party to be ruined by last night's events. When they stepped through the wide-open doors and into the Hall, Harry didn't see any remnants of last night. How could he? They had somehow been transported into a winter wonderland.
Hogwarts had already gone all out with its decorations, but the Small Hall outdid the rest of the school by a mile. The entire room had been expanded and the walls appeared to be made of ice while snow was falling gently from the ceiling before vanishing when it came into contact with a surface. There was a large, decorated Christmas tree in the corner with gift bags underneath and mistletoe hanging from a corner that had too many giggling teenagers lined up. It was all so amazing, but even this wondrous sight couldn't keep him happy forever.
"Boys!" Called the dreaded voice. Slughorn was making his way to them, using his vast bulk to shove students out of the way when they weren't fast enough to move. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." Slughorn slapped a meaty hand down on Harry's shoulder. "Come, I want to introduce you to a few friends of mine." Despite his words, it was clear he meant only Harry. Before he could be pulled away, Harry shot Michael a desperate look, and mercifully his friend didn't abandon him, even though Harry had just teased him mercilessly for the last half hour. Grabbing Terry and Anthony by the arms, he followed Harry and Slughorn closely.
"This is Arsenius Jigger. You must already know him from his work, surely!" Slughorn said, as he presented Harry to an impossibly old and, as the four boys quickly learned, very boring old man. The following, rambling, conversation felt like an hour, but according to his watch, it only lasted ten minutes. Unfortunately, it was not the last. One by one, Slughorn introduced them to one boring person after another, and they only just managed to reign in their collective impatience when Anthony reminded them with a low whisper, that they were every bit as important as they were dull.
The only bright spot was when they met Gwenog Jones, but only because of Michael's reaction to her. While neither Anthony nor Terry cared for Quidditch, and Harry's knowledge of the Professional Leagues couldn't fill the back of a stamp, Michael lived for sport and from what Harry gathered, Gwenog Jones was a living legend. Or at least, that was how Michael treated her.
"You made a complete fool of yourself." Terry snickered, once Gwenog was kind enough to lead Slughorn away, throwing an amused look back at Michael. "I wonder what she would say if your hose had ripped here instead of the tower."
"You didn't make a fool out of yourself." Harry said, firmly. "I actually think she was quite charmed by you." He thought no such thing, but after he had helped him before, Harry wasn't going to let Michael be the butt of the joke for another half hour.
"What?! She didn't-" Terry cut himself off with a yelp, after Harry stepped on his foot.
Anthony was back from wherever he disappeared to. "I got us a table." He said in a rush. "Hurry up before one of these centenarians steal it." They followed quickly, happily crashing down at a table near the doors.
The four hadn't eaten dinner, waiting for the meal Slughorn had promised them. While Harry and Michael stared down at their empty plates in confusion, Terry and Anthony simply picked up their menus and began to peruse for their meals.
"You just have to tell your plate what you want, and the Automatons in the kitchen send it up." Terry explained, apparently holding no grudges about his aching toes. "Seared scallops." He said, and said meal appeared on his plate. Harry and Michael followed his lead.
The meal was a pleasant one, and with their stomachs full and their heads feeling light from sugary drinks and laughter, it was shaping up to be an excellent party, no matter how poorly it began. In Terry and Michael's minds, it could only get better.
"I finally finished it." Terry said triumphantly. "My Scale Solution."
Anthony rolled his eyes. "I still think it's a dumb name. It can't be a solution if it's not solving a problem."
Michael snickered. "That's what I said."
Harry was confused. "What's this again?"
Terry smiled. "Something I've been working on since I was at Pendle's. My Scale Solution."
Harry remembered something. "The green slime you put in Lisa's pocket on our first night here?"
Terry smiled. "One and the same. Now listen." He waved them all closer. "Michael is going to make a distraction while I slip it into a few people's drinks."
Anthony's eyes widened. "That's what you two idiots were planning earlier?" He frowned at Michael. "I expected something this moronic from Terry, but you? There are trained duellists here!" He hissed this last part.
Michael looked unconcerned. "It's Christmas, and after spending nearly a month revising," he said this while giving Harry a dirty look, "I feel like doing something fun."
Anthony looked increasingly annoyed. "What's the payoff? All you're going to do is ruin Slughorn's party-"
"Give it here." Harry said. He had heard enough. If this would ruin Slughorn's party, then he was all for it. "I can do it myself without a distraction."
"Harry!" Anthony hissed, looking betrayed. Harry knew why. On the occasions that Michael joined Terry in his pursuit of mischief, Harry remained vocally on Anthony's side. Not because he thought whatever it was that they were up to wasn't fun, but because he was wary of the consequences. Not tonight, though. He couldn't hurt Slughorn directly, he wasn't nearly strong enough, but he could embarrass him, and for a man as self-important as Slughorn, that might be worse.
"Don't worry, no one can link it back to us." Harry said to Anthony, before turning to Terry. "Can they?"
"The only people who know about my potion wouldn't grass us up to teachers. Not even Lisa." Terry assured him, as he subtly handed over the vial and dropper to him underneath the table. "How are you going to get it into people's drinks without a distraction?"
"That's for me to worry about." Harry winked. Terry shrugged.
"If you say so. Three drops per drink, no more." He warned. "It's potent stuff." Harry decided not to ask how he had tested it.
"You sure you don't need a hand?" Michael asked, looking a bit worried.
Harry smiled. "Nah. You just sit back and enjoy the show."
With that, Harry stood up, vial in hand, and made his way to the exit. Once outside, he made his way to the nearest boy's lavatory and locked himself in a stall. Harry held his hand out and concentrated. In just a moment, his Invisibility Cloak appeared with a shimmer in his hand. Harry grinned.
After the night he first followed Michael to the Mirror of Erised, Harry had learned that he could summon his Invisibility Cloak to him with just a thought and send it back to his lockbox with just as little as effort. At first, he had wondered why his parents hadn't just used this to hide from Voldemort, at least until he realised that he only became invisible while the hood was up. Which meant it could only hide one person at a time.
He didn't bother waiting around for the bathroom to empty, as the two Hufflepuff Fifth Years were too busy complaining about their dates to notice the door open by itself. Harry began to make his way back to the Small Hall, but before he was even halfway there, he felt himself move through some kind of invisible boundary.
Before he could figure out what had just happened, two shadowy figures at the end of the corridor began to storm in his direction. He had not been paying them any attention before as he had assumed that they were mere students who had grown too impatient to look for a more discreet corner to kiss in. Now, he saw that they were two adults, and they were both hurrying towards him with their wands drawn.
Silently, he pressed himself against the wall as the two men neared. It was only when they passed a crystal Christmas tree, filled with glowing fairies, did Harry recognise one of the men.
Quirrell.
His companion was as different from him as could be. He was a thin, sallow skinned man, with a long hook nose and shoulder length black hair so greasy that it glistened under the fairy light, and he wore black, flowing robes that made him look like a bat. All in all, he was rather an intimidating man, which made it all the stranger when he looked at Quirrell as though he were the frightening one.
"Problem?" The stranger asked, warily.
Quirrell nodded slowly. "We'll have to see, won't we?" With that, he raised his wand and snapped out, "Homenum Revelio!" Harry knew enough Latin to feel a thrill of fear when he heard that incantation, but nothing happened.
"It must have been Filch's cat." The stranger said. Quirrell nodded slowly.
"Perhaps." He said distantly, but from both his tone of voice, Harry knew he was thinking about other possibilities. Finally, he shook his head, and returned his attention to his companion.
"It will happen soon, Severus." Quirrell said softly. "The time must come for you to choose a side."
"I have already chosen-!"
"Do not lie to me!" Quirrell shouted suddenly, spittle flying. Harry had never seen him lose control like this. He had never seen him lose control at all. He pressed the man, Severus, against the wall with just a wave of his hand. Severus didn't even raise his still drawn wand to defend himself.
"I have gathered my most trusted friends to complete our task. It will be up to you to keep him distracted."
After a long, tense moment, Severus said carefully, "What you ask for, it cannot be done." He swallowed. "Perhaps if I can speak to him-"
"You don't understand, do you?" Quirrell sounded amused. "This is an act of repentance on your part. You're too useful not to keep, but he wants you to earn his forgiveness. Risking all that you have built is only the first part."
"Why?" The sallow man sounded desperate, and Quirrell sneered at his blatant fragility.
"Because it was your information that steered him wrong in the first place." With that, Quirrell dropped the man onto the ground in an undignified heap and stalked in the direction of his office.
After a few minutes, where he regained control over himself, the sallow man, Severus, headed in the direction of the bathroom presumably to straighten his robes before joining the party.
Only then did Harry feel safe to breathe normally again. Neither one of those men were the type you wanted to bump into in a dark corridor. Making his way back to the party, he tried to decode the argument he had just heard but couldn't make heads or tails of it. It sounded like an old friend of theirs had caught wind of some deception that Severus guy had made a while ago. Why Quirrell was so upset about it was just another part of the mystery.
Mystery, Harry scoffed, why make a big deal of something that doesn't even concern me?
Harry entered the Small Hall, putting the strange argument out of his mind. While under the cover of his Cloak, he put three drops into the cups of students (avoiding the ones he liked, such as Robert and Marcus, who were having a whispered discussion in a corner) Professors Vector, (who was the only one to give out homework over Christmas) Slughorn (for obvious reasons) and every boring person they had been introduced to earlier.
Harry had tried to be as quick as possible, but by the time he was putting the last of the vial in his target's drinks, the first few people had begun to transform into giant, humanoid reptiles. The sight of it was both fascinating and mildly disgusting, and it only became funny once people began to panic. Perhaps it was wrong to enjoy it, and he must have been spending too much time with Terry, because the ensuing chaos was the funniest thing he had ever seen.
People were screaming, falling over themselves to get away from the sudden giant bipedal reptiles. Tables and chairs were either falling over or flying as people began to make their escape. A few chairs even broke because they could not handle the sudden strange shapes the people sitting on them. Some of them grew tails, which seemed to affect their balance as they fell over while others made strange hissing screams at their lost hair, missing ears or eyeballs that were on either side of their skull.
Harry had no idea how Terry had pulled this off with just a potion and with so little instruction. His claims must have been true; He was a genius. Terry seemed to agree with that sentiment, as he climbed atop of their table, and began to dance, all the while chanting, "I'm a genius! I'm a genius!" until Anthony yanked him off.
Grinning, Harry made his way out of the hall and waited for his friends around the corner. Vanishing the Cloak, he stepped out of the shadowy alcove he had hidden in, only when the other three were about to pass him by.
"BOO!" Harry shouted, jumping out at them. He cracked up laughing when he saw how high they all jumped.
Terry recovered the fastest. "I didn't even see you do it. I didn't see you at all!" He sounded impressed. "You took so long I thought you chickened out."
Harry smirked. "You can either get a job done quickly, or you can get it done right."
Anthony looked intrigued. "Seriously, how did you-? " He was cut off as Michael called out his brother's name, warning Anthony that they weren't alone in the corridor anymore.
"Robert! Are all Hogwarts parties like that?" Michael asked his brother, as an annoyed Looking Marcus followed in the background.
"No, of course not, and I'll appreciate it if you never tell mum about this either." A stressed looking Robert replied.
"Got any idea of what that was?" Anthony asked, innocently. The other three looked at him in amazement. It wasn't like him to tweak the nose of an authority figure.
"No, but if I get my hands on them before the teachers do, I'll make them regret ever being born." Marcus said, darkly.
The First-Year boys felt simultaneous waves of dread. No one wanted to be on Marcus' bad side. "Why?" Michael asked weakly.
Marcus shrugged. "Just looking forward to tonight, that's all." The four said nothing, avoiding each other's eyes, afraid of giving the game away.
The two Sixth Years escorted them to Ravenclaw Tower, peeling off in the common room as they joined their year mates. Harry and his friends continued up the boy's staircase, all the way to their floor. On a silent agreement, they all filed into Terry's room, closing the door firmly behind them.
It was only then that they felt safe enough to start laughing, which was just as well, as Harry could not hold it in any longer. "We have to take this to our graves. Otherwise, I think Marcus might put us in them early." Harry gasped out.
"Did you see Slughorn?" Anthony asked, eyes filled with mirth. He flopped onto Terry's bed and mimed someone helplessly rolling over.
"It wasn't as funny as that Slytherin who didn't notice what was going on until his girlfriend's hair ended up in his dessert." Michael laughed.
"I'm going to become a potioneering legend!" Terry cheered, jumping up and down on his bed. This seemed to sap the humour out of Anthony, fast.
"You can't tell anyone!" He protested. "Think about how much trouble you'd be in. How much trouble Harry would be in. The Commander might even cancel Christmas this time."
Terry rolled his eyes, as he stopped jumping. "He always threatens that when it turns December. He never follows through."
"You've never done anything this bad before." Anthony seemed to consider his own statement for a moment, before adding, "Not deliberately, anyway."
Terry smiled, condescendingly. "You worry too much. Seriously, how much trouble could we be in?"
Apparently, a lot.
The next day at breakfast, just a few hours from the Hogwarts Express' departure, Dumbledore announced from his podium the internal investigation that was going to be held in order to catch the perpetrator.
"Many important members of our community were assaulted last night. We will not stop until the perpetrator is caught and expelled." At this, whispers broke out amongst the students, spreading throughout the Great Hall like a wildfire.
"They suspend Myrose for barely a month, but this they're willing to expel over?" Terry sounded annoyed, but Harry could detect a hint of worry In his tone.
Michael snorted. "What did you expect? Some of the people there last night were school donors. The Board of Governors must be forcing Lord Dumbledore's hand on this."
"Or Lord Dumbledore might be doing this of his own volition. The donations might be a big reason Professors get paid so much. So, teacher's salaries might be threatened." Anthony pointed.
Harry hadn't considered the consequences of his actions. As usual. "Whoever did this, I hope they get caught." Harry said, without raising his voice one iota. Terry looked startled by his statement, even a little hurt, but Anthony and Michael quickly caught on.
"Me too." Anthony agreed.
"They deserve what's coming to them." Michael nodded.
Terry finally seemed to understand. "I hope they never do anything as reckless, ever again."
The four maintained eye contact with each other and came to an unspoken agreement. They had nothing to do with what had happened last night, and they would endeavour to never speak of it again.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Harry was surprised at how empty the school felt once the holiday began. Obviously, most of the school's inhabitants had left for home, leaving only Dumbledore, the four Heads of Houses and a dozen or so students. It was certainly a startling change.
Deep down, Harry knew the real reason the school felt so empty. For the first time since August, he was without friends. He was shocked at how attached he had grown to them in such a short amount of time, but he couldn't deny how comfortable he had become with their company. Waiting for them to rise in the mornings as he read In the common room, eating meals together in the Great Hall, playing games in the evenings. Time seemed to drag on without them.
Get a grip, it's only been two days. Harry chided himself.
As it turned out, he wasn't the only First Year in Ravenclaw tower. Amanda had stayed behind too, but even with the common room being almost empty, she still remained in her dormitory. Harry tried to make conversation with her during meals, maybe set up plans for the day, but she only gave short, non-committal answers. They had shared every class for months, taken extracurriculars together and had been in the same tutoring groups for exams, so Harry couldn't understand why she was still so shy with him.
So, he was forced to spend his free time doing all the things that seemed to make days move faster. Painting with the watercolour set Sara and Jade had given him months ago, repeated spellcasting training in the practice rooms, finishing the Adventures of Captain Armstrong, flying in the Quidditch pitch, even studying ahead for his classes. These worked a little to make him feel better, but the only thing that really seemed to cure his bitter loneliness was good company. As such, he visited Hagrid.
However, with the third visit in just as many days, Hagrid seemed to grow concerned. "No one's giving you any trouble up in Ravenclaw tower are they?" He asked, looking angry at just the idea.
"What? No, of course not!" Harry exclaimed. "What gave you that idea?"
Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows. "It's just that you're here a lot of the time, aren't you?" Hagrid sighed. "I like having you around, but you're not exactly leaving me with enough time to sort out your Christmas present, are you?"
Harry felt his stomach drop. Hagrid chuckled as he watched Harry make a hasty retreat back to the castle, seemingly thinking that he simply didn't want to ruin the surprise of his gift, but it was the opposite. Christmas means giving people presents. Normally, as a friendless orphan, this wasn't anything for Harry to worry about, but now that he did have friends it was definitely something to worry about.
Amanda was so confused by his request, that she forgot to flee from the common room as soon as he started speaking to her as she normally did. "An owl order catalogue? But there's only three days left until Christmas."
"Then I should get a move on, shouldn't I?" Harry smiled. "Didn't Su mention letting you borrow one? For your family?" He thought he saw her flinch at the word family, but it was gone before he could before he could be sure. Amanda shrugged and went to go fetch him a catalogue.
Harry began his search haphazardly, having no idea what his friends would even want for Christmas.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Christmas Eve had finally arrived, and with it, the Boot's party. Harry found himself in Flitwick's office, dressed once again in Anthony's suit. He was much more comfortable in it the second time around.
"Gifts?" His Head of House asked, nodding his head at the wrapped presents Harry had tucked under his arm.
"Yes. It seemed silly to give it to my owl when I was going to see them tonight anyway." Flitwick smiled, but before he could reply with further painful small talk, the Portkey activated.
When Anthony had told him that a Portkey would be necessary in order to get to the London Citadel from Hogwarts, Harry hadn't thought much of it. He expected an incongruous item, just like Journey Through the Wizarding World said, but what he got instead was round silver badge, the size of his palm, depicting a rising sun with words written in an ancient Greek dialect whose meaning he knew only because it was translated on the first page of the Auror's Enchiridion:
Either carrying your shield, or on it.
What really surprised him was what happened once it activated. Harry felt an uncomfortable tugging sensation from behind his navel, which was the only warning he received before he was pulled into the space the badge had just occupied. It all happened too quickly for him to see, but he was certain that the badge had opened up something, a path that had not been there a moment ago and was now pulling him through it. It was like the badge had created space for itself as it moved through this new path, and the surroundings it had pushed out of the way as they travelled past at an impossible speed, the quick images of light, colour and sounds that flashes by as they moved, was trying to close in on them and reclaim the space they had previously occupied.
Just as Harry began to make sense of this, at least enough sense to conclude that he was about to be crushed, it was over. He landed on his feet, the same position he had left Flitwick's office in, but instead of a wall to lean against, he met only air. Before he could stumble back, gentle hands steadied him.
"Portkeys are never much fun, but the first time is always the worst." A kind voice said.
Harry turned to face the person who had caught him. She was a small, striking, woman, with chin length black hair, arched eyebrows and curved cheekbones. If her looks weren't enough to remind him of Terry, her mischievous, crooked smile certainly was. She wore a beautiful pale silver gown, which clashed with the onyx Ouroboros on her wrist.
"You should have seen Terry, his first time. He ruined my favourite pair of shoes."
Harry nodded to himself; She was definitely Terry's mum then. "Mrs. Boot?"
Now that she wasn't embarrassing her son, her smile turned warm. "Call me Joan, please." She extended her hand, palm up, and for one silly moment, Harry thought she wanted a low five. Then he remembered he was still holding the Portkey. He gave it to her.
"My Auror badge." She explained. "I normally don't send it through the post, but you need one of these to Portkey or Apparate directly onto Citadel grounds, and we couldn't take any chances with your security."
As she spoke, she led the way through the massive hedge maze that Harry had Portkeyed into. He could guess that this was another layer of security, as he could hear the breathing of several large animals somewhere outside of the lanterns glow.
"Am I the only guest who is taking this path?"
Joan nodded. "Aurors only. But you're both a legacy, and a friend of the Commander's children." She smiled down at him. "I don't think anyone would mind if we made an exception for you." Harry smiled back. He normally didn't like strangers, especially ones he met in dark places but, so maybe it was because she remained him so much of her son, but he already felt at ease with her. He was still thinking on this when they reached the hedge maze opening, and he was treated to his first sight of an Auror Citadel.
It was a palace. Like Hogwarts, the stones were smooth and seemed to emanate light, as though it was alive with some kind of energy. But while Hogwarts was golden brown in colour, the Citadel was pale grey, almost silver. All the windows beautifully crafted and showed the light within, but only the ground floor had stained glass windows, large enough that even Harry could see from a distance that they were telling the brave deeds of Aurors past. The Citadel was several stories tall, and had four spires, in the same style as a cathedral and they were all facing the cardinal directions. It was only when he glimpsed movements within did Harry realise, they were watch towers.
"It's beautiful." Harry said, awed. He couldn't believe such a place existed in the heart of London.
"Thank you." Joan said, proudly, and it was only then that Harry remembered that this was her home. Harry couldn't believe his friends had grown up in such a place.
Joan led him down the path, around the Citadel, until the reach the large double door entrance. There was a long queue of guests lining up to be checked by security; three wizards and a witch were still on duty despite the holiday, and they were checking the guests for any contraband or unregistered wands before letting them through. The four Sentries were all wearing their smart, high collared, black Auror uniforms which had a silver trim, and their circle badges were clearly visible above their collarbones as it was used to pin their cloaks.
Harry felt rather important as Joan led him right past security without a word. The entrance hall was large, with stairs leading away to their left, and a second set of double doors straight ahead. Along the walls there were a series of beautiful tapestries depicting the ascension the first Magister, Yusef Hoca, The Great Uniter, who founded both the Magisterium and the Confederacy. They had hardly made it through the doors, however, when they were set upon by an excited Terry.
"Harry! You're finally here! It's been ages!" Terry said, practically bouncing were he stood.
"It hasn't even been a week!" Harry laughed, though he was glad that he wasn't the only one to miss his friends. Terry began to tug Harry through the entrance way, leading him towards the party.
Anthony hurried up to them. "Sorry about him. Took my eyes off him for a second and he got into the Butterbeer."
Joan chuckled. "Anthony, it's Christmas, you can relax. Have fun tonight."
Terry perked up. "Can I have fun too?" He asked, smiling sweetly.
Joan matched his smile. "Your always having fun, and often at another's expense. Behave." She added warningly, bopping him on the nose as she ushered them into the party proper, before turning back. "Show Harry to our table, alright boys?" She told her sons, before returning to the entrance to greet her guests.
It was a large hall, filled with guests already despite the long queue outside. Circular tables were lining the edges of the hall, making room for the already occupied dance floor in the centre. They were dancing to music provided by a group, an orchestra really, who were playing a tune he had never heard of and some with instruments he didn't even recognise. It was a lot simpler than Slughorn's party, with minimal Christmas decorations, but he had a feeling that this crowd would have found such a display ostentatious.
Despite his nice, borrowed suit, Harry felt really underdressed. Almost as though he did not belong.
"What's that?" Anthony asked, finally noticing the presents Harry had tucked underneath his arm.
"Your presents. I thought I should give them to you in person." He hoped they liked them. It had taken him a while to pick out the rosewood chess set for Anthony and the book One Thousand and One Riddles for Terry.
"Thanks!" Terry made to dive for his gift but was stopped by a large hand wearing an onyx Ouroboros that rivalled Hagrid's in thickness.
"No presents until morning." Said the owner of the hand. "After sunrise." He added hastily, as Terry made to open his mouth.
The man turned to greet Harry with a smile, ignoring his son's groans. He was of average height, but very wide set and muscular, and he kept his black hair as short as Terry's, but instead of spikes, his was neatly combed. Despite the friendly smile on his face, Harry immediately knew that this was a stern and serious individual, not one to be messed around with.
"Commander Boot?"
The Commander smiled. "You're not one of my Aurors. You can call me Robert if you would like." Harry nodded, even though he knew another Robert already, so he was probably going to get confused.
Terry caught Harry's eye. "Can't he call you Bobby, dad?"
Anthony and the Commander looked confused, but Harry had to stop himself from smiling.
"What?"
"Never mind. If I can't open my present now, can you take them from Harry please?"
With a wave of his wand, the Commander had vanished the presents leaving Harry empty handed. As he led the three boys to an already occupied table, Harry remembered asking Hagrid yesterday about what to bring to the party. None of the Dursley's guests had ever shown up empty handed, and Harry had learned from observation that a good guest brought something nice for his host. Hagrid had simply given him a strange look, before saying, "You're a kid. Don't worry about it." Harry had taken that advice, relived he didn't have to make any special effort, but now he felt like he should have brought the Boots something for being so welcoming to him.
The table that they sat on had a few other people, as Harry quickly learned, it was Terry's extended family. There was Uncle Stephen, a slim and serious man, who worked for the British Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Transportation, Aunt Claudia, a warm and round faced woman, who had a Mastery in Transfiguration and privately tutored Muggle-born children in foreign lands that relied on their local Citadels for their education, Callum, their son, a short but powerfully built teenager, who was a Beast Guild apprentice at the Magisterium and Gemma, Terry's grandmother, a tiny grey haired woman, who was a retired Auror Captain.
Harry knew now why Terry felt so pressured. It wasn't just his parents that were so successful, but his entire family were either doing well in their careers or were up and comers like Callum.
At first, Harry dreaded having to make small talk with so many strangers at once, but the Boots did not focus all their attention on him. Aside from being an event to raise money for the Citadel through donations, the annual Christmas party was a chance for this family to catch up with each other.
Harry listened as they caught each other up on the goings on of their lives, laughed at each other's jokes and asked questions about things they had missed. They were so happy and open with each other that Harry felt even more jealous of Terry and Anthony than he had been before but was in too good of a mood to dwell on it. He didn't even clamp up when they included him in questions they directed at Anthony and Terry about Hogwarts as he usually would have. With good food and drink, and even better company, Harry was actually disappointed when the dishes cleared, and the Commander dismissed them.
"Alright, I think we've held them long enough." The Commander smiled at the boys. "You've put in your time, but you're dismissed now."
Harry didn't understand what he meant by that, but his friends clearly did. They leapt up from the table and, leaving him barely enough time to get out his goodbyes, as they led him away from the table and out of the hall.
"Glad that's over with." Terry said, loosening his collar.
"You're telling me." Anthony agreed, leading the way up the stairs.
Harry was confused. "What are you talking about? That was fun."
The two boys looked at him, incredulous. "Being interrogated by old people?" Terry asked.
Anthony led them along the first floor, headed for the west wing. "I thought you would have hated it." He told Harry, looking more than a little surprised. "You get annoyed whenever someone at school asks you too many questions."
Harry shrugged, realising that he was much too annoyed by this conversation. "If you want an uncomfortable family dinner, you should come round to the Dursley's some time."
Terry frowned. "The who?"
Harry blinked. He realised he had never even mentioned the Dursley's by name to his friends before. "My relatives." He explained, shortly. The mood, which had been light when they had left the hall, had now grown awkward. Trying to salvage it, Harry asked, "So what have you two been up to in the last week?" Things went back to normal as they quickly caught him up on their misdeeds.
After his friends had informed him of the afternoon that they had spent in Hyde Park amongst Muggles, (a boring anecdote in Harry's opinion, but for them it had clearly been something of an adventure) they finally arrived at normal, varnished wooden door at the end of a short corridor. Harry didn't see what was so special about it as they had passed a dozen like it on the way here, but both boys began to hurry toward it.
"Home, sweet home." Anthony smiled, opening the door.
It was quite jarring, stepping into a house when he had expected a simple room. They were standing in an entrance foyer of a large, but quite normal appearing townhouse. A stairway leading to floors above was directly ahead of them, to his left, he could see an open sitting room and to his right was a well-stocked study.
"Home?" Harry asked. "I thought the entire Citadel was your home."
Terry snorted. "Nah. That's mum and dad's job, isn't it? You can't have kids running around a Citadel." Terry shook his head at the idea. "But this is all ours. The Commander gets the largest quarters."
Anthony led them past the stairs, into the kitchen. "Do you want anything to drink?" Harry asked for a cherry soda and followed his friends into the sitting room.
"I'm going to get changed." Anthony said, as soon as he had made sure Harry had settled himself in an armchair by the fireplace.
Terry leapt up. "Me too! I don't want to wear this thing for another year!" He ran for the stairs.
Anthony snorted. "It's a good thing you've accepted that you're never going to grow out of it."
"Oi!" Harry heard Terry shout from the landing.
"What about me?" Harry asked, putting on a moody look. "You two get to be comfortable, but I have to suffer?"
Anthony smirked. "Pretty much, yeah." Harry gave him a rude hand gesture, as he made for the stairs.
Once the two returned, they began to play several lively games of Exploding Snap, and once they grew bored with that, they tried to build a house of cards. Their sixth attempt was the largest, combining three different card decks, and the boys had to stand up to add to it. They might have even made it too large to add upon without something to stand on, but the front door opened and closed hard enough to send the entire thing toppling before they could find out. The three boys dived for cover.
BANG!
Joan and the Commander ran into the smoky sitting room, wands drawn. It took only a moment for them to assess the situation. "Boys." The Commander sighed. "Again?"
Anthony got to his feet first. "In our defence, we almost broke Joan's record."
Joan looked competitive. "Not if I have anything to say about it." With a wave of her wand, the smoke cleared from the room and the cards rearranged themselves into neat piles. She knelt by the coffee table next to her sons.
The Commander sighed. "Joan-" He began, but then cut himself off as he thought better of it. "Harry, I can take you back to school now if you would like?"
Disappointed that the evening was over already, Harry nodded and stood up. "I'll see you guys in the new year."
"See you then." Anthony nodded.
"Have fun at school, all by yourself!" Terry called as he walked out of the room. Harry rolled his eyes. That guy really knew how to get underneath people's skin.
Harry followed the Commander into his study. "Close the door, please." Harry thought this was a strange request but did so anyway. "You know, I was quite pleased with Terry's exam results last week. Anthony's were a given, but my son can get easily distracted." He smiled at Harry. "From what I hear, you had something to do with that."
Harry shrugged. "Anthony is already a good influence on him. Terry just can't say no when both of us want to study."
The Commander nodded, and his smile seemed to droop slightly. "I've also heard that the three of you have been spending a lot of time in the company of someone else. Michael Corner?"
Harry's stomach dropped. He had suspected something when Michael wasn't invited to this party, even though he had never brought it up or pretended to be unaware the Boots were throwing one. He had hoped it was some kind of misunderstanding, that Michael's family was simply busy on Christmas Eve, but now that hope was quickly dying.
"Yes." Harry said simply, not wanting to demonise Michael, but also wanting to avoid getting Anthony and Terry into trouble in case they weren't allowed to spend time with him.
"Are you aware of his history? His parentage?" The Commander seemed to sense Harry's defensiveness, and was keeping his tone light.
Harry nodded. "Yes." He said, shortly.
The Commander hummed. "Who you interact with, befriend, may have an impact on how others perceive you. This in turn would affect your life once you leave school." The Commander paused, waiting for Harry to say something, but Harry kept his mouth shut and his face impassive.
The Commander continued. "While no one with good sense believes the boy to have Death Eater sympathies, those with power and influence don't always have good sense. They might lump you, and my sons, into the same group that they believe Michael Corner was born into." He sighed. "It may not seem very important to you now, but it could impact the rest of your lives."
It wasn't easy, but Harry managed to keep his cool. Commander Boot was just worried about his sons' futures. "I'm grateful that you're advising me like this. But I'm not going to stop being friends with Michael because of what other people might think." He tried to sound both firm and polite. "I can't control Anthony or Terry, so whether or not they want to remain friends with us is their choice." He emphasised the word us, to show that he and Michael were a united in this matter.
The Commander sighed and then smiled. "All I can do is warn you." He said, and he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out his badge. "Please send this back to me by owl. I do need it for work." Harry nodded, and as soon as he touched the Auror Commander's badge, he was whisked away back to Hogwarts.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
The next morning, Harry was pleased to find a small pile of presents waiting for him at the bottom of his bed. Gathering them up, after he had dressed for the day, he made his way out of the castle and towards Hagrid's house. The two had agreed to open their presents together.
Knocking on Hagrid's door was difficult with his hands full, but he managed. He was greeted by Fang's familiar barks and the lovely smell of breakfast. Hagrid opened the door, wearing an apron and with his sleeves rolled up.
"Merry Christmas, Hagrid!" Harry smiled.
"Merry Christmas, Harry! Come in! Get out of the cold." Harry did so, making his way to the sitting room. "Alright, breakfast or presents first?"
Harry couldn't believe he wanted to wait any longer. "Presents, obviously!" Hagrid chuckled as he made himself comfortable on his favourite armchair.
They began to open their gifts, not going one at a time as Hagrid's pile was significantly larger than Harry's own.
Unwrapping them, Harry found that he had received a Junior Potions Kit from Terry, with a list of twenty one potions Terry advised he should try in order to build up his skill (the most basic potions at the top to the harder ones at the bottom), A copy of Magical Families of the West Country from Anthony, with a note to read chapters seven to eleven, and a sleek pair of Quidditch gloves from Michael that were supposed to be better for Seekers than the standard ones the school provided.
The last present was his absolute favourite. Hagrid had given him a beautiful, leather bound photo album with pictures of his parents filling every page. From the beginning, there were pictures from their Hogwarts years, their wedding, the time the spent at the Magisterium and even in their Auror uniforms. Towards the end, there was perhaps a dozen pictures with himself as an infant being held or playing with his mother and father.
"This is what you were working on?" Harry asked, his voice was quiet.
"Yeah. I wrote to your parent's school mates, people they knew in Memphis, even the Citadels they were stationed at. When they heard who it was for, they couldn't write back fast enough." Hagrid chuckled.
"Thank you." Harry said, sincerely. He had never had proof that his parents were real before, and not just figments of his imagination. He hadn't even realised how important it was to him until he was holding the photo album in his hands.
"It was nothing, didn't cost me a Knut." Hagrid hefted the gift Harry had given him. "Unlike this! How much did this set you back?" He asked, as he examined the Dragon egg replica Harry had purchased for him.
Harry smiled nervously. "Don't you worry. Just know that it was worth every Knut." Hagrid beamed at him, which only made him feel more guilty. Harry hadn't actually spent anything on it, but decided it was for the best that Hagrid never knew how it came into his possession. He was a great friend, but he was still a teacher.
After breakfast and morning of games, the two made their way up to the castle for Christmas dinner in the Great Hall. Although feast was a more accurate term. Fat roast turkeys, roast potatoes, and all the gravy a boy could want. Always in a better mood after he had eaten, Harry joined in on the competitive jesting between the remaining Quidditch players at the school. The meal was made even more perfect by Slughorn never showed up, having become ill over the holidays. When he could not eat another bite, Harry slowly made his way back to Ravenclaw Tower, and relaxed in front of the fireplace, going over the book Anthony had given him.
Harry could see now why his friend had labelled certain chapters; It depicted the origins of the Potter family and their lives. Harry smiled as he got comfortable in his favourite armchair and eagerly prepared to learn about his family.
Before he could read a single word, Amanda appeared in front of him. "You didn't have to give me anything, you know." She said softly.
Harry made sure not to make any sudden movements. This was the first time she had initiated a conversation with him, and he didn't want to spook her. "I wouldn't have been able to give out any gifts at all if you hadn't been here." Harry shrugged. "Besides, it's just sweets. Nothing special."
"I didn't get you anything." She whispered in a painfully familiar way. Harry had suspected something was up as soon as she put her name down to stay over the holiday. Amanda was a Muggle-born, so wouldn't her parents want to see her? Wouldn't they want to catch up with their daughter after three months away from home? He had thought something was up since that day under the beech tree, but this only confirmed it.
"You could join me. That could be my present if you want." Harry indicated the armchair near his own. "I've been feeling terribly lonely lately." When she hesitated, Harry added, "We don't have to talk if you don't want. We can just read." He lifted his book for her to see, and she nodded.
"I'll be back." She hurried up the stairs to her dorm and returned with the large stack of Marvin the Mad Muggle comics that Su had lent her. She sat on the chair beside his and joined him in his silent reading. Harry smiled softly as he returned to his book.
It really was the best Christmas ever.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Harry felt much more at ease during the second half of the holidays than he did the first. He spent his days doing much the same things, repetitive spellcasting in order to build up his Mana reserves, watercolour painting, visiting Hagrid and, of course, studying. But now he was much more settled. The presents he had received made him realise that his friends wouldn't forget about him after a couple of weeks apart.
Now that he was in a better mood, however, Harry noticed that time seemed to move much more quickly. In no time at all, it was New Year's Eve. Michael had invited Harry weeks ago, to come and spend the night at the Hillard's.
Harry entered Flitwick's office when he was given permission. His Head of House was sitting at his desk and looked up as he came in. "Someone is very popular this holiday." The Charms Professor said, teasingly.
Harry smiled, self-consciously. "I hope that popularity lasts into the new year."
Flitwick chuckled as he came around his desk. "You'll be going into a Muggle residential area, so make sure you activate you Portkey when none are watching. Robert has assured me that when you arrive no Muggles will be there to see you."
Harry nodded to show he understood. While the Veil would most likely convince any Muggles who saw him that his arrival was something mundane, the Statute of Secrecy asked all citizens to act as if every Muggle possess the ability to see through the Veil, not just one in a thousand. It was just safer that way.
Harry was ready for the Portkey this time around, and when he landed, he did not need anyone to steady him.
"Nice landing." Said Robert. "Most people fall on their face and puke their first time. Not necessarily in that order."
Harry smiled, looking up to find himself in an ordinary Muggle back garden; He could hear the all the distant busy sounds of an ordinary Muggle town. "When have I been anything but exceptional?" Harry asked, cockily, omitting the fact that this was his second time with a Portkey.
Robert snorted, as he led him towards the semi-detached house. "Nice holiday?" He asked.
"The best I've ever had." Harry replied with unabashed honesty. "You?"
Robert's expression darkened slightly. "I've had better." Before Harry could ask about whatever was bothering him, Michael opened the back door.
"I wanted to greet him!" Michael scowled at his brother, ignoring Harry entirely.
Robert rolled his eyes. "And I promised Professor Flitwick that I would be around, just in case any Muggles spotted him." Michael looked like he was about to respond but was interrupted by a voice behind him.
"You mean aside from myself, of course." The speaker was a pleasant looking woman, brown haired like Robert, but with streaks of grey, and wearing a nice simple dress. Harry immediately noticed that she was the first person he had seen in months that wasn't wearing an Ouroboros. It was strange, especially as he hadn't realised it until now, but a person's Ouroboros, their academic standing, was now the first thing he looked for in a person.
Looking at her, he was afraid he might have underdressed for the evening's activities, but Michael and Robert looked just as casual as he did. The woman turned to Harry with a smile. "This is the Seeker?"
Harry blinked. No one had ever identified him by his Quidditch position before. "Yes. I'm Harry Potter." He made sure to introduce himself by name in case her Quidditch obsessed sons had forgotten to do so.
"I know who you are, dear. I'm just teasing these two." She said, confirming his suspicions. "Please come in! You'll catch your death out there." Harry gratefully accepted her invitation inside, as he hadn't bothered to wear a coat over his sweatshirt. "I'm Francine, and this," she added as a man entered the kitchen, "is my husband, Maurice."
The portly, bookish man was busy fixing his cuffs, and Harry noticed he also lacked an Ouroboros (Why was that the first thing he looked for these days?). He quickly looked up when he heard his name. He smiled at Harry as soon as he saw him. "Ah ha! This must be the Seeker!" Harry side eyed Michael and Robert. They at least had the decency to looked embarrassed.
"It's very nice to meet you both, Mr. and Mrs. Hillard." Harry knew from Michael that they were a librarian and a schoolteacher, respectively, and they both looked the part; The were each ordinary enough to fit in at Privet Drive.
"It's very nice to meet you, as well." He smiled. "Now I'm sorry we couldn't have more time to talk, but we are late for our party." Mrs. Hillard went to get her coat.
"Please, don't let me keep you." Harry said. He now understood why they were dressed so nicely.
"He's so polite." Mrs. Hillard said, buttoning her coat. "Why can't you be polite, Michael?"
Michael rolled his eyes. "Bedlam. You've only been here two minutes and she already likes you better."
"Language!" Mr. Hillard chided as he went to the door. "Now you boys know the rules. No one else in the house, and no magic!" The last warning was said with amusing normality, said in the way that a normal parent would ask their kid not to eat too many sweets before bed.
Harry glanced at Michael. "Don't ask." He muttered.
The three boys waved off the Hillards as they drove away. Closing the door, Robert turned to them. "You two can do whatever you want, just don't bother me." He climbed up the stairs and Harry heard his bedroom door close.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "What's up with him?"
"I don't know." Michael shrugged. "He's been like that since term ended. Mum thinks it's girl troubles." He looked utterly unconcerned. "Anyway, never mind him. Dad left us pizza money!"
Harry normally spent New Year's Eve the same way he spent Christmas: In the attic, waiting for the Dursley's celebrations to end. Compared to that, lounging on the sofa, watching a series of cheesy comedy movies and eating more pizza than anyone should, was an absolute dream.
There was a slight problem though. A nagging in the back of his mind was telling him to let Michael know about the conversation he had with Commander Boot last week. Michael had a right to know, certainly, but what if Terry and Anthony thought he was bad mouthing their dad? Ultimately, he decided to keep it to himself. If it somehow ever came to light, Harry would merely point out that he had ignored the advice and continued on, business as usual.
It was a little after midnight when Michael nodded off in front of the television, half-eaten pizza crust in hand. Harry was sleepy too, but after three bottles of soda, he needed to visit the loo first.
As he was making his way back to the stairs, he heard a disturbing groan coming from Robert's room. Unsettled, Harry knocked on his door. "Robert? Are you all right?" There was no response. Harry was about to leave it when he heard a sharp thud against the wall.
Harry drew his wand. "Alohomora!" The door unlocked and Harry pushed it open.
It took a moment for him to understand what he was seeing. Two familiar figures were locked in a tight embrace on the bed, kissing furiously. They didn't notice him until the light from the doorway hit their faces.
Marcus and Robert.
Robert reacted first. "Get out! GET OUT!" He screamed.
Harry stumbled back, into the hall, as Robert followed him, closing the door on Marcus.
"I'm sorry!" Harry said, quickly. He had never seen Robert angry before, not seriously anyway. "I heard a noise and I asked if you were okay, but you didn't respond, and I was about to leave but I heard another-!"
Robert who had been looking around the hall to make sure that Harry was the only witness, cut him off. "Don't tell anyone!" He hissed furious. "Especially Michael!" With that, he stormed back into his room, leaving Harry alone on the landing.
Author's Note
Wizards prefer to be called by their first names, or the titles they have earned. Family names are really formal, not for friends basically.
The idea for Citadels came from the Shadowhunter Institutes.
Please review.