Betrayal 3/4
Adjusting to life at Hogwarts was difficult. The size of the place, and the number of people always around him, made Harry uneasy. For ten years with the Dursleys he'd lived in a cupboard, gone to a small school where he had no friends. Then the past three years he'd spent in near isolation: the first with a sentient diary, the second a talking snake, and only in the third year had Tom, and later Severus, been there to keep him company. He found the sudden number of people around him overwhelming. The fact that there were always people with him only served to heighten his sense of loneliness. He might be sharing a room with four other boys, but his bed was still too small and too empty.
Matters were not made easier by the fact that he was constantly being watched, constantly being compared and judged. The Huffelpuffs and Ravenclaws weren't too bad: mild curiosity but they kept their distance and mainly went about their own business. The Slytherins kept their distance and treated him with a cautious respect; Harry suspected Tom had something to do with this, and if not him then at least the Death Eaters on their own initiative. He had, after all, until recently been the Dark Lord's favourite, however uncertain his current status might be.
The Gryffindors didn't seem to know what to do with the new Harry. The previous Harry Potter had been outgoing and friendly, had played tricks on the Slytherins, had been bold and fearless. The previous Harry Potter had been a true Gryffindor. Oh, it wasn't that they resented Harry, but it was clear that this version of Harry Potter was most definitely not what they expected, nor would have preferred.
Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, child saviour of the wizarding world, and figurehead in the fight against the Dark Lord Voldemort. He'd done some reading, searched the library to see what else Tom had lied to him about, had conveniently forgotten to tell him. It was clear what the wizarding world's expectations were of Harry Potter and Harry found he had little desire to live up to them. Did they expect him to lead the fight against Voldemort? He was a fourteen year-old boy, how could they expect that of a child? Besides the fact that Harry did not know if he even could raise his wand against Voldemort, against Tom.
His feelings towards Tom were an even greater mess than the rest of his life and most of the time he tried not to think about it, tried to ignore the overwhelming sense of betrayal and loss he felt. Tom had been his best friend. He had loved Tom, but Tom had murdered Harry's parents, had lied to him. It was all a terrible jumble of mixed emotions that kept Harry awake at night.
To distract himself he did what he always did: he studied. He received private tutoring in Charms, Transfiguration, and a few other courses. His professors were all impressed with his extensive knowledge, and he quickly learnt how to bring it into practice with his new wand. History of Magic was boring, so Harry tended to shut out professor Binn's droning and read in the back of the room. Herbology was interesting, everything he'd expected it to be, and at first he enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, the person who had apparently retrieved the other Harry, was nice enough, but Harry soon felt as if he were disappointing the half-giant. Another person Harry bitterly suspected would have preferred the doppelganger to the real thing.
Defence against the Dark Arts was unsatisfying. Grindylows and werewolves were interesting, but the ridiculous restrictions on learning about the Dark Arts annoyed him. How could you learn to defend yourself against something you were not allowed to study. Remus Lupin was a competent teacher, but he lacked Tom's knowledge, Tom's enthusiasm for what was essentially an art. It irritated Harry to no end that his learning was restricted, that he could not study what he wanted as he had at Riddle Mansion. He missed Tom's library and had unsuccessfully tried to get a pass for the restricted section of the library at Hogwarts where the few Dark Arts tomes were kept. Harry suspected this was Dumbledore's influence and he had already started contemplating sneaking in there with his invisibility cloak, permission be damned.
Because Harry's abilities at Potions far surpassed that of the best seventh year he was exempt from those classes. To Harry's relief: he was still angry with Severus and at first he'd done his best to avoid his former tutor. He knew Severus was watching him, keeping an eye on him for Tom and by default for Dumbledore as well. But Potions were still his passion, and he didn't want to lose yet one more thing. So he'd approached Severus and asked for permission to use the Potions Master's private workrooms so he could continue with the research and work he'd done at Riddle Mansion. Severus had agreed without hesitation, without asking Dumbledore, something for which Harry was grateful.
He could see that Severus was having a hard time, running to please two masters, being called nightly to Voldemort and having to report to Dumbledore afterward. Harry felt little compassion for the traitorous Potions Master, but could nonetheless not stop watching Severus. Often he would lie awake in bed at night until he felt that tell-tale tingle indicating Severus had once more safely returned from a visit to the Dark Lord. Usually he would then turn around and go to sleep. But sometimes he would slip out of the Gryffindor dorm, his invisibility cloak keeping him from being caught by Filch or Mrs Norris, and go to the dungeons where he would wait for Severus to return from his debriefing with Dumbledore.
Apart from that first time he never asked Severus to give Tom a message, never asked whether Tom had a message for him. Severus would let them into his chambers, make them something warm to drink, hot milk, chocolate, or tea, and they'd sit in silence before the fire. It was the closest Harry had been able to come to the feeling of belonging he'd had with Tom.
Sometimes Severus would ask him how he was doing, how he was adapting to Hogwarts. Harry knew that anything he said would most likely be reported back to Tom and Dumbledore, but it was good to talk to someone who listened and did not judge, did not compare. Severus was one of the few people that seemed to grasp that Harry and the doppelganger were two entirely separate and different people. Severus did nothing to hide the fact that it was the real Harry he preferred.
Sirius Black was a troublesome aspect in Harry's life. The man had been exonerated from his alleged crimes now that Pettigrew had been revealed, and he assisted Lupin in teaching DADA. He also tried to spend as much time with Harry as humanly possible, often reverting to his animagus form so that he could keep an eye on Harry. Harry didn't mind Padfoot too much, for then Sirius was at least quiet, but the attention was smothering and served to increase Harry's sense of claustrophobia.
Sirius obviously felt guilty that he hadn't been there for Harry, and he was trying his best to become an important part of Harry's life. He felt it was his duty to look out for Harry. But Sirius' clear ideas on a few issues soon had them arguing. Harry didn't want to argue with Sirius, but he couldn't just sit back and listen to Sirius badmouthing Severus and Tom and the Dark Arts indefinitely. It didn't matter that Harry was angry with Tom and Severus both; it was something between him and Tom and him and Severus. Sirius had nothing to do with it. It all exploded quite nastily after one of Harry's Quidditch lessons.
That first flying lesson with Madam Hooch had been an epiphany. The freedom in soaring through the air on a broom, the exhilaration. And he was good at it, the other Gryffindors had watched him in awe and McGonagall had set up a try-out for the Seeker position immediately. Finally something that he did better than his doppelganger, something his house-mates would accept him for. Sirius had had the happiest grin on his face Harry had ever seen, and the years wasting away in Azkaban had disappeared. For a while Harry had felt that wonderful feeling of belonging, of seeing pride in the eyes of someone who loved him. It had washed away the bitter feeling of resentment toward Tom: flying was yet another thing Tom's lies had denied him the chance of discovering.
That weekend Sirius and Remus had taken him out to the Quidditch pitch and the three of them had flown together. They'd helped him practice catching the snitch. High on adrenaline and happiness Harry had laughed for the first time since they'd taken him away from Tom. They landed to take a break, and Sirius had smiled and looked at Remus, grasping the other man's hand.
"Doesn't he remind you of James? James was a superb flyer as well, the best Chaser Gryffindor had in years. The Slytherins never stood a chance, Snivellus was so jealous."
Harry's face fell, and he stared at his parents' friends for a moment before abruptly turning away and walking off the pitch.
"Harry!" Sirius called, running after him. "What's wrong?" He grabbed Harry's arm and turned him around.
Harry shook his arm free as Remus joined Sirius, the same look of worry on his face. "It's nothing. I've had enough, I think I'll go down to the dungeons and do some Potions work."
"Come on, Harry, it's obviously not nothing. And do you have to spend so much time with that greasy git? Stay with us. Why don't we sneak into Hogsmeade with your dad's cloak? Moony and I'll keep you safe from You-Know-Who. Come on, it'll be fun."
Harry grit his teeth and shook his head. "No, and stop calling Severus names."
"Listen, Harry, I don't know why you're spending so much time with Snivellus –"
"Could it be because I enjoy his company, we have the same interests," Harry said defensively.
"He's a Death Eater, Harry. Not somebody you should be associating with, I don't care what Albus says, once a Death Eater…"
"You should be more grateful to him; after all, he's the one who saved me from Tom." Harry was rapidly losing the tenuous hold on his temper. He could feel the frustration of weeks clawing its way up his throat, demanding to be released. But Sirius remained oblivious, ignoring the cautionary hand on his arm from Remus.
"Snivellus just did what Albus told him to, you don't know him like we do, he can't be trusted –"
"Severus forced your precious Headmaster to act. Dumbledore would have preferred to keep Pettigrew parading around as me!"
"That's not true. We love you, Harry, and Albus would never –"
"Harry, make more friends. Harry, stop spending so much time in the library. Harry, why don't you play any pranks on those slimy Slytherins? Harry, why won't you lighten up? Harry, the Dark Arts are evil. Harry, don't say Voldemort, it's You-Know-Who. Harry, potions are smelly and a waste of time." Harry's face had contorted into a bitter sneer as he imitated Sirius' voice. "Harry, be more of a Gryffindor, be more like your parents!
"Well, I'm not like them. I'm not like Peter-bloody-Pettigrew's interpretation of what Harry Potter should be! I don't want to play pranks! I want to learn! I love Potions! Restricting knowledge on the Dark Arts is stupid! Albus Dumbledore was this close to making a deal with my impostor! And I bet that if you'd known me before Wormtail was killed you wouldn't have taken me away from Tom but kept the Boy-Wonder!"
"Harry! That's not true, your parents –"
"Shut up about my parents! So what if Voldemort killed them! Why should I care about them? They didn't care enough about me to not annoy a notoriously dangerous, powerful wizard! They didn't raise me! Tom did! Tom saved me from the Dursleys and gave me a home and cared for me. Do you think I like being reminded that Tom killed them? Do you think I enjoy being told constantly Tom tried to kill me? Stop badmouthing Tom! You don't know anything about him! You're just feeling guilty he did a better job of caring for me than you, my godfather, ever did. Whose brilliant idea was it to make Wormtail secret-keeper anyway? Just shut up about my parents: I. Don't. Care." He hissed the last sentence and glared at the two surviving Marauders.
They'd both gone pale. Sirius looked stricken and was staring at Harry in horror.
"You ungrateful little brat! I spent twelve years in Azkaban for that mistake. I escaped to warn you, to protect you!"
"A bit late, weren't you? Where were you when the Dursleys locked me in the cupboard under the stairs? Where were you when they used me like a house-elf, when they told me my parents were alcoholics and had killed themselves and it was a shame they hadn't killed me too? Where were you when Voldemort abducted and imprisoned me? Where were you then? All you wanted was revenge on Peter for betraying your trust. I wish you were still in Azkaban keeping the Dementors company, because I sure as hell don't want it!"
Sirius narrowed his eyes and he struck Harry in the face. Harry stumbled backwards, hands flying to his nose and mouth. His lip had split and he could taste the blood, while his nose felt broken.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that. You are nothing like James Potter." Sirius made to step forward but Remus grabbed his arm and opened his mouth to finally start placating the two of them, but it was way too late for that.
Harry's arms dropped to his side and he narrowed his eyes, staring at Sirius with all the hatred and frustration and anger and betrayal he'd been feeling these past four weeks.
"How dare you hit me?" It was a whisper but the menace was enough to make even Sirius Black pause in uncertainty.
"Sanguis Ignis!" Harry didn't even draw his wand, he pointed at his godfather and Sirius collapsed on the grass screaming and writhing in agony as his blood literally boiled. It wasn't an Unforgivable curse, even in his rage Harry was not stupid enough to cast the Cruciatus on Hogwarts' grounds, but it was close. From the corner of his eyes Harry saw Remus reach for his wand but Harry was quicker.
"Expelliarmus!" Remus' wand slapped into Harry's open hand and the other man was thrown thirty feet over the Quidditch pitch. Harry released the spell on Sirius and knelt beside his moaning and twitching godfather. He gripped Sirius' chin in his hand and forced the older man to look up into his eyes.
"Don't you ever strike me again: next time you won't get away this easy. You will stop belittling Severus and you will stop badmouthing Tom. Any disagreement between me and them is just that: between the three of us. You have nothing to do with it."
Harry stood up and dropped Remus' wand on Sirius prone figure, before abruptly turning around and walking back to the castle. The angry grimace on his face was enough to scare away the boldest of Gryffindors and he reached Severus' quarters uninterrupted. Whispering the password he slipped into the potions laboratory and for a moment he stood staring at the various experiments laid out on his bench. But the adrenaline was finally catching up with him and he collapsed against one of the walls. Tears fell silently from his eyes as he stared into nothing. The salt made his split lip sting and his nose was throbbing.
He had no idea how long he sat there and only noticed the Potions Master's entrance when Severus sat down next to him and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Shh, it's going to be all right, Harry, don't cry, I'm here for you."
Harry rested his cheek against Severus' chest and let his roiling emotions calm. It was good to be held again, to be comforted; he'd missed this so much. He missed Tom so much.
"Is it wrong of me to wish I never knew Tom killed my parents? Is it wrong of me to want to forgive him, to want to forget that? Am I a disappointment to them? Am I betraying them?"
Severus pulled away slightly so they could look at each other.
"You have to make your own choices, Harry. Do what you think is right, make the choices you can, you want to live with, because you're the one who's going to have to live with them." He smiled briefly, more a grimace really than a smile, and turned his head to one of the benches as he summoned a wet towel. "Here, let me have a look at your nose and that lip."
Harry tilted his head back and watched Severus carefully and gently wipe away the blood and inspect the damage.
"While I must admit to being flattered that you came to my defence, I would ask you not to pick any more fights with your godfather just because he calls me bad names."
Harry chuckled and winced as the grin trying to break through aggravated his split lip. "I'll try and remember that next time."
Severus smirked briefly and returned his attention to Harry's face, muttering about mangy, rabid mongrels under his breath.
"Your nose isn't broken, as far as I can tell. But you might want to have Pomfrey take a look at it just to be sure. Do you want me to heal your lip?"
Harry shook his head and stood up, reaching down to help Severus up as well.
"No, leave it like it is, it'll heal and in the meantime Sirius can feel guilty for hitting me."
"Why, Mr Potter, what a positively Slytherin attitude!" Severus exclaimed in mock surprise.
Harry smirked. "What can I say? I learnt it from the best." But he soon turned serious again.
"What's going to happen, what's Dumbledore going to do? I cursed two teachers."
Severus shook his head and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder as he guided them to the work benches.
"The Headmaster is going to do nothing. It wouldn't look good to expel the Boy-Who-Lived for hexing the recently exonerated martyr Sirius Black for hitting him. I suspect you'll be called to his office and given a talk on appropriate conduct at Hogwarts and told to make amends with your father's friends."
Severus sneered, his opinion on Sirius obvious, but Harry was grateful that he, unlike Sirius, did not attempt to influence him toward the other man. Sirius Black was still his godfather, the only real link he had to his parents. While he had never known them it wasn't entirely true that he didn't care. How couldn't he? They were his parents and he was already regretting some of the things he'd said to Sirius. But not everything, and certainly not hexing Sirius; he still got angry when he remembered his godfather hitting him. He would never let anyone hit him ever again. In the meantime, it was probably best to make amends; he knew he'd miss Padfoot's company otherwise.
"Why don't you show me what you've been up to lately? Calming potions, am I right?"
That evening Harry sat down with Sirius and apologized for blaming his parents' death on him. Sirius apologized for hitting him, saying he was horrified that he'd struck Harry and would never do such a thing again. He said he'd try to be more polite to Severus. Conversation was stilted and it took some time to regain the level of familiarity they had managed to achieve before. Harry asked Sirius to tell him more about his parents, saying he could not remember them and had nothing of theirs except for his father's invisibility cloak.
They got along well enough after that, and Sirius learnt to avoid talking about Severus, Tom, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Potions, the Headmaster, and many other things. But Harry could always sense his godfather's disapproval, and oftentimes disappointment. Something had been irreparably damaged that day and Harry could still not shake the feeling that Sirius would have preferred the doppelganger Harry, no matter how much or often Sirius denied it. But at least Sirius now saw Harry for Harry, and not for his predecessor or the Gryffindor he should be or his parents. It was just too bad Sirius didn't like what he saw, although his godfather tried his best to hide it.
Harry missed being accepted for himself. He hated being viewed as some kind of figurehead in the battle against the Dark forces, hated that Dumbledore was doing his best to manipulate him into that position. But the bottom-line was that Harry missed Tom, he missed his life at Riddle Mansion, but he was still angry at Tom. He still felt betrayed. He felt torn between the memories he had of his time with Tom and the loyalty he should have toward his murdered parents. He worried what would happen if Tom did manage to kidnap him again, worried what he would do, what Tom would do. He didn't want to be afraid of Tom.
And there was the very real danger of being manipulated into the conflict between Voldemort and Dumbledore; Harry knew the purpose he was supposed to serve according to Dumbledore. He knew that the Headmaster would have preferred to keep the Harry he already had, that he had trained, rather than this independent Harry who could still go either way.
Adjusting to life at Hogwarts was difficult, but as time passed Harry did and he realised that while he was not as happy as he had been at Riddle Mansion, he was glad that he was at Hogwarts. His physical freedom was only slightly less restricted than it had been at Riddle Mansion, but he knew that he now had a chance to learn for himself, and decide for himself. He only hoped that Dumbledore and Voldemort would allow him to make that choice on his own.