Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
A/N: I apologize ahead of time for the extremely long a/n at the bottom. Forgive me!
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Chapter 5
Harry knocked on the door and a kindly looking middle-aged witch answered. She looked strained, as if she'd gone through some hard times. That would be expected with a werewolf for a child, Harry mused. Even so, she looked happy overall, and Harry hoped she would find more happiness here than from wherever they'd come.
"Hello, can I help you, sir?" she asked a little nervously. Her eyes darted past him, as if looking for more people to appear. Harry wondered if they'd already been given grief for living in the area.
"Actually, I just wanted to come over and welcome you to Hogsmeade," Harry smiled. She looked surprised, and he continued while stifling a chuckle at what her reaction to discovering his identity would be. "I'm Harry. I'm sorry, but I don't know your name." He extended his hand, which she took after a short hesitation.
"Oh, Amy Richards. My husband, Kyle, isn't home right now. Would you like to come in?"
"Very much, thank you. I've brought some chocolate over for you and your son. Will I be able to meet him today?" he asked in what he hoped was an unobtrusive manner.
Her face paled slightly and took on a colder look. She blocked him in the hallway and said in a low voice, "If you're here to hurt my child, you should just leave. I have my wand, and I'm not afraid to use it."
Harry raised both hands slightly, one holding the chocolate. "I didn't mean to seem threatening, Mrs. Richards. I would never hurt a child. I know your son has an unfortunate curse, and that's one of the reasons I came over. I want to try and help."
She looked stunned and lowered her wand, but didn't put it away. "What do you mean 'help'?"
"Well, I'd like to start by being friends. I'm an animagus, so I could keep him company during the full moons. Additionally, though I hate to admit the influence I hold, I may be able to get the locals to treat your family like you deserve. If not, then I'll at least offer my help and protection should you ever need it." He swatted a fly off his nose, and his hair shifted so it was no longer covering his scar.
Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "You're Harry Potter."
He nodded. The reactions got old after a while, even though they were mildly entertaining. Most people knew him by sight, without seeing the famous scar, because of how many times he'd been in the paper recently. Although, there were plenty of people who obviously didn't read the news so carefully.
"Why? What?" she stuttered at a loss for words.
He smiled reassuringly. "Please, don't worry, Mrs. Richards. I'm not here to ask anything of you, besides a possible friendship. A lot of people know about my life, but not everyone. I wouldn't expect them to, and I can't explain why people are interested in my personal life, but... nevermind. Sorry, I'm getting off track. Anyway, my last guardian was Remus Lupin. Do you know who he is?"
She nodded with a wistful look on her face. Harry knew that Remus was a sort of beacon to other werewolves. He'd achieved much more than most, and opened doors many thought were closed to them forever.
"I love him, curse or no curse. He's been there for me more times than I can count, and I think it's terrible that so much of his life has been ruled by those that don't even try to understand. Now, I'm not here to preach to you about something you probably already agree with. I just want to meet your son and help in any way I can," he said sincerely.
After a few minutes, she nodded with a smile. "Michael, call him Mike, is in his room. He absolutely loves painting, especially around the full moon."
Harry mentally counted the days. He hadn't realized that it was only two days after the last full moon, and the boy was probably still recovering.
Mrs. Richards opened the door to her son's room and said, "Mike, are you up for a visitor?"
The boy must have nodded, because Harry didn't hear anything before he was invited inside. There were colorful paintings hung up all over the walls. The colors and patterns were so expressive that Harry could almost feel the pain, anger, and sadness pouring off them. A few seemed to be from happiness, but most were very negative emotions. His heart went out to the boy, whose life was already more difficult than most 'normal' people's ever would be.
Harry suppressed a cringe when he saw the state of the boy. He was extremely pale and had healing scratches all over his face and arms; and probably over other areas that Harry couldn't see under the blanket.
"Hi, Mike. I'm Harry. How are you feeling?"
The boy seemed to recognize him instantly. He opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. His eyes were as large as galleons, and Harry laughed lightly.
"Yes, I'm Harry Potter, but I'm just a normal wizard like anyone else."
Mike shook his head slowly, wincing at some residual pain. "No, you're not. You beat You-Know-Who. You're a hero!"
Harry sighed. "I did what I had to. A real hero was my guardian, Remus Lupin. Do you know who he is?" The boy nodded. Harry smiled sadly. "He was one of the best men I've ever known. He always fought for what was right, but rarely resorted to violence. He's probably the gentlest person I've ever met, despite what people thought of him because of something he had no control over. I have a question for you, Mike. Would you like to be friends with me?"
The boy smiled widely and nodded emphatically.
Harry grinned. "Good. I'd like to stay with you when you transform if that's alright with you."
The boy looked frightened and glance at his mother before looking down at the blanket covering his legs. "I'll hurt you," he whispered.
Harry took his hand carefully, so as not to hurt his injuries. "I can turn into an animal so I'll be safe. It's completely up to you, but I'd be happy to keep you company on those nights."
Mike seemed to think about it for a long time before nodding. "Ok, as long as I can't hurt you. Can I ask a question?"
"Of course," Harry said with a smile.
"Why don't you hate werewolves? They're dark creatures, and you're Harry Potter. You fight evil." The boy seemed utterly confused. Harry was angry at whoever told this child such things, but hid his anger so Mike wouldn't think it was directed at him.
"That's simple. Werewolves are classified as 'dark creatures', but they aren't necessarily evil. I only consider acts as evil if they were intended that way. On the full moon, a werewolf doesn't have control over what they do. It's different. And I definitely don't believe you are evil. Remus wasn't evil either. He's the only other werewolf I've ever known."
Mike thought on this for a while again and yawned. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."
"Call me 'Harry'. I should let you get some more rest, Mike. I'll see you again soon."
Harry and Mrs. Richards left the room and headed back out to the porch where they talked for a few minutes.
"Mrs. Richards," Harry started.
"Call me 'Amy'."
"Amy, does your son take the Wolfsbane Potion?" he asked curiously.
She looked down for a few seconds before responding. "We try to get it for him when we can, but it's very expensive, and very few potions masters are available to prepare it. He didn't have any this month, as you could probably tell from the injuries. Money's been tight with the move and all." She growled, "I just feel so helpless when it happens. I wish there was more I could do for him."
Harry nodded in understanding. "Well, thank you for introducing me. And I meant what I said about doing what I could to help. If you ever need anything, I live just down the road. Just leave me a note or something if I'm not home."
They were quiet for a few minutes until Mrs. Richards asked tentatively, "Harry, when you were talking about Mr. Lupin you often referred to him in the past tense and sometimes in the present… Did something happen to him?"
Harry coughed at the unexpected question and swallowed hard. He kept forgetting that Remus's disappearance wasn't well known. It wasn't exactly a secret, but it was a story that got lost in the excitement of Voldemort's demise. "H-he is missing. He has been since a week before – before Voldemort died. We haven't heard anything from him, but one of the Death Eaters said he'd killed him. There's really no proof either way, but it gets more hopeless every day."
Mrs. Richards had a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry for bringing it up, Harry. I-I didn't know."
He gave her a trembling smile. "It's ok, Amy. We'll find him soon; I'm sure of it."
"I hope so. Thank you, Harry, for everything. You really are a great wizard, you know. And I'm not just talking about the 'Boy-Who-Lived' part."
Harry blushed lightly, but didn't say anything to that. "Good day, Amy."
"We'll see you around, Harry."
Harry wiped his eyes and cleared his head. He had a man to see about a potion.
He walked determinedly into Hogwarts and down into the dungeons. He knocked loudly, but politely, on Professor Snape's office door. It wouldn't do to get the man angry before he even made his request.
The door swung open, and Harry was greeted with a scowl.
"What do you want, Potter? I thought we were rid of you."
Harry just smiled kindly at the man. "I have need of a potion, Professor Snape."
"Something to make you look more glamorous for your fans, I suppose," Snape sneered.
Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes, and simply said, "No. The potion is not for me. There is a child suffering from lycanthropy. I was hoping you could make Wolfsbane Potion for him."
"You want me to volunteer to give up my valuable time to make a potion for some werewolf child?" he said incredulously.
Harry sighed. "You did it for Remus."
"He was in the Order, so I was asked to by Albus."
Harry nodded. He knew that before, but he also knew the man wasn't as heartless as he led people to believe. He wasn't kind by any means, but he wasn't a complete wretch. He likely would have gladly let Remus suffer if Dumbledore hadn't ordered him otherwise. But Harry knew he would have a harder time saying 'no' to a child, especially one in pain.
"The boy is only eight years old. He was bitten when he was six. He's suffered enough. I saw him today, and he had wounds all over his face and arms. The rest of him was covered by blankets, but I'm sure it was no different. I'll pay whatever the going rate is for the potion, but I just want to make sure he can have a little relief from now on. It's not volunteering; I would be contracting with you for the potion."
"Why don't you go to some apothecary and buy it then?"
"Because, I trust your potions." Snape looked surprised for a moment before it was hidden. Harry cheered himself in his head, and decided to savor that image for a long time. "You may be a git, but you know your craft. I would never trust an important potion like this to someone I didn't know. Besides, I trust you for all the potions I take, right? If you haven't poisoned me yet, I don't have too many worries for the kid," Harry said cheekily.
"Brat," Snape replied automatically, although his thoughts seemed elsewhere. "Fine, I'll do the Wolfsbane. I'll send you a list of ingredients and their prices. We can discuss it closer to the full moon."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied sincerely. He was about to leave when Snape spoke again.
"Since you brought it up, how is the potion working for you?"
"It works well. I just wish I didn't need it."
"What's this, a Gryffindor admitting a weakness to a Slytherin?" Snape smirked.
Harry shrugged. "It's not like you didn't already know. Cripes, you've seen me collapse from my 'weakness' as you so adequately put it."
Snape looked at him blankly, then nodded. "Is your condition improving?"
Harry copied Snape's smirk, and responded, "What's this, a Slytherin showing concern for a Gryffindor?"
"Ungrateful child. I was making a professional inquiry. Madam Pomfrey and I need to be kept informed of your condition in case adjustments in treatment are to be made."
"I know, Professor. I guess it's improving somewhat. It's hard to tell," Harry replied with a shrug. "I'm supposed to see Madam Pomfrey next week for a check-up."
"I see. Get the weight of the child, so I can administer the correct dosage."
"Thank you, I will. Good day, Professor Snape."
The dark man nodded curtly and closed the door without another word. Harry chuckled softly to himself at the man's behavior. He'd learned to take it all in stride and not get wound up by the cruel comments. After many long talks with Dumbledore, he had learned to let the insults slide off his back like water off a duck. The two seemed to get a long better since he started this practice, but Harry would never describe their relationship as friendship. It was simply a joint effort against Voldemort, nothing more, nothing less. Although, now that the task was done, Harry wasn't sure where he stood with the potions master. He wasn't too eager to figure it out, however. As long as they stayed civil with each other, he was happy.
Harry had to rush to get to work on time. He'd almost forgotten how long the seemingly short walk to Hogsmeade was from the castle. He couldn't wait until he got his apparation license, not that it would do anything for the walk from the castle, due to the wards, but it would make getting around Hogsmeade easier. He made it on time and took a long drink of water. It was turning into an extremely hot afternoon.
The quaint pub was rather busy that night, being a Saturday. He found out quickly that an article had come out that morning regarding his summer work. Harry calmly read the article, and proceeded to throw it into the fire amidst some approving, and a few disapproving, shouts.
The article had indicated, in less than polite terms, that the wizarding world's hero should not be working in a pub. It had even gone so far as to accuse Madam Rosmerta of taking advantage of a 'poor, lost boy to do her bidding.' It didn't say anything about Honeyduke's, but Harry wasn't going to complain about that.
The large number of customers were mostly out-of-towners. They seemed to have come in for the night solely to see if it was true – that Harry Potter worked in a pub. Needless to say, Harry was highly embarrassed about this, but Rosie chuckled and told him that whatever brings in paying customers was fine with her. He told her he felt like he was on display in a zoo. She laughed at him and made some comment about bars on the windows as she walked away.
Harry shook of the attention as well as he could and continued working. It turned out to be a fun night. Many more people were supporting his decision than against it, and the supporters were quickly converting the others. Harry just told everyone who asked that he was enjoying himself and wanted to do something normal for once. He got the feeling that would be in the Daily Prophet the next day, and he hoped it wouldn't be distorted somehow.
He was cleaning up the bar around one in the morning when a dizzy spell hit him. He went in the back to get a drink of water and found his hands shaking badly. He cursed his illness (for lack of a better word) and took his potion. He didn't feel like he could leave yet. There was still a large amount of clean up to be done, and the mess was mostly due to the people who came to see him. He felt somehow responsible for cleaning it.
So, he rushed around, cleaning as fast as he could, using spells and muggle methods. After twenty-five minutes, he felt the place was clean enough to leave for the usual morning cleaning. He knew he wouldn't make it home before the potion wore off; he could feel it failing already. So, he took another dose. He had never asked what would happen if he took two doses during one episode, and he hoped that it wouldn't have any negative effects.
Rosie bid him goodbye, and he left with a sense of relief that she hadn't seen his weakness. Simon met him one street away from his house, again, and Hedwig was flying in circles above. He smiled at his animal friends and thanked them for accompanying him.
As they approached the house, Simon growled at something in the back yard. Harry had never heard the gentle dog make such a sound before and whipped out his wand.
They both approached the corner of the house in silence. Harry peaked around the edge, but couldn't see anyone there. Slowly, he crept around, and still he saw nothing. He was now open to anyone in the yard, and they would not have missed him even in the dim moonlight, so he decided he didn't need to be quiet any longer.
"If anyone's out there, show yourself now, or I'll call the aurors in." Harry knew if it was some prank by his friends, they would know he was serious and come out of hiding. Harry waited several minutes, but when he heard nothing he sighed and headed toward the back door. He figured Simon must have heard a rabbit or something in the forest.
As he reached for the door, he was engulfed in pain. He knew it was the Cruciatus Curse without having heard the incantation. There was no other curse that could make a person suffer so much. He felt as if every blade of grass underneath him was cutting into his flesh, tearing him inside and out. His head felt so full of pressure he wondered if it would burst.
He fought his way through the haze of pain, and vaguely saw two dark shapes above. He felt his hand convulsing around his wand and was amazed the men hadn't taken it yet. Although, not many people were able to fire back while under the painful curse. He focused all of his effort on stunning both men before they knew what he was doing.
He was successful, barely, but he knew there wasn't much power behind the curses. They would stay unconscious for only an hour or two at most without being forcefully wakened by the counter curse. He bound them with magical cords, and told Simon to bark if they moved. He tried to stand up, so he could Floo the ministry, but his legs wouldn't hold his weight and he crashed to the ground into blackness.
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A/N: Sorry for the short-ish chapter. It just wanted to stop there. Yes, my stories talk to me. : ) I just wanted to leave a cliffhanger for once, even if people think it's a fairly uninteresting one. I hardly ever do that. So… Ginny who? Yeah, about the lack of Ginny… I'm not sure what to say. This is very much a 'Harry' story, but she will be here. I promise. I've seen her darting around my computer. Next chapter will have lots of Harry and friends (including Ginny). Don't give up on me! Honestly, I'm feeling very nervous about this story and what people think. It started as a one-shot, and I didn't even really care about it. It was just some plot worm that burrowed into my brain… Now, I'm not sure what it is, but it just keeps going, and I'm finding that I like it more and more. Is that odd for me to say about my own story? I need to stop rambling now.
There may be no update next week. I have a HUGE research paper that I need to write, and let's just say, I'm not very far… on the outline… yeah, not good.
Review replies: surprise! I only did a few, but don't think I didn't appreciate your review if I didn't respond. I'm so grateful for all of them! They honestly make my day, as sad as that sounds.
tansy1354 – Thanks for all your reviews! I'm glad you like what I've done with the kids (they'll be in the story again later). I hope you liked Michael, even though he didn't do much this chapter. Poor kid. I made him stay awake until I got the scene how I wanted… mostly. They never turn out quite how I want, but you have to stop editing at some point, right?
why do I have to fill in these boxes???? – thanks for the great review! Keep an eye out for your word. I have an idea where to use it… : )
kingmaker – Thanks for the advice… glade, what a simple word. Too bad my brain doesn't think of things like that when I write. It could have something to do with the majority of my writing happening between the hours of 1:00-5:00 in the morning… Maybe someday I'll go back and change it to "ponded glade." You made a comment about mistakes in using contractions. Could you tell me where the mistakes are? I make quite a few typos and other mistakes when I write, but I don't see them when I edit. You know, where you read what should be there, instead of what's really there. I guess that would be a good reason for a beta reader. Oh well. : )
OExpecto PatronumO – hang on for one more chapter! (there will be more after that, but good things happen next chapter) I'm glad you liked Harry's speech. I worried that he felt too… preachy. I didn't mean for him to, but he wanted to say all those things. : ) Little werewolf didn't do much this chapter. Poor kid was all knackered from the full moon.
WhiteRabbit5 – Yay, you like my kids and dog! They're fun and good for Harry. Glad you liked the werewolf speech. I tend to turn nouns into verbs and verbs into nouns. Example: I call brooms 'sweepers', and when I'm sweeping I call it 'brooming.' There really is no reason for it. I just said it once and it stuck, along with 'writers' (pen, pencil, marker, etc.). People around me are required to learn my language. : )
joe – apparating would be a good idea, wouldn't it? This will be explained a bit later… two chapters maybe? It's not too, terribly important, but you're right; it's weird that he doesn't just do it all the time.
Gryphonmistress – I almost missed your hint! : ) Harry/Ginny fluff next chapter… I probably shouldn't tell people that when I'm trying to have a cliffhanger of sorts. Ah well, it's a crappy cliffy anyway. : )
Author's rant:
My first flame! Isn't it exciting? I've always been a fairly sensitive writer (ok, I'm a wimp), but this made me laugh.
Midnights Dawning (unsigned), wrote: "HARRY AND GINNY WILL NEVER EVER IN 6BAJILLION YEARS EVER GET TOGETHER! harry and the weasleys are like family, harry thinks as ginny as a little sister and would dream of going out with her, if you want to make a believable story make it a harry and oc pairing because he thinks as ginny as a sister and same with hermione, it was also mentioned that harry lost attraction for cho so it makes sense that if harry does ever get involved with someone it would be with an oc! THINK REALISTICALLY!"
So, ignoring the grammar and random capitals… I'm wondering why anyone would even start reading this story if they are so anti- Harry/Ginny. I thought it was pretty obvious from the summary that this was about H/G. Hmm… and if they didn't like that much because of the ship (no other story details were mentioned), why bother even reviewing? Why not just avoid reading or stop reading if you don't like it? I've never understood that. Don't people have better things to do with their lives than flame? Of course, here I am putting time into responding. Sorry about that. I just had to say something. Although, I should thank the anonymous reviewer for giving me a good laugh. : )