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Harry's Heart - 1
He found that the best way to deal with the whole situation was to ignore it. He got up early the next morning and was in the Great Hall having breakfast before Ron and Hermione entered. By that point the seats around him were full so they had to sit elsewhere, and Harry made a point of sitting next to Neville in their first lesson of the day, which was Transfiguration. He remembered that Neville had gotten a new wand over the summer, and they spent the time before class started examining the eleven inch birch wood, which Neville said had a core made from hippogriff wing feathers.
After Transfiguration Harry had his first class to teach, first year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. He'd worked out how to introduce himself, and got them settled quickly into the lesson, discussing the theory of defence and pointing out the relevant bits in their books. They'd have one practical lesson at the end of the week using a simple shield spell against water balloons that Harry was going to bewitch to act like bludgers.
He had Charms after that and then lunch, which was a good thing because he was starving. He sat with Dennis Creevey and his friends, much to Mr Creevey's delight, and listened as they discussed their first lesson from Professor Heggerty. It sounded as if she was going to be a popular teacher, at least with the third years, despite her personality, and he finished his lunch early in order to be back in his classroom for the second year Slytherin and Gryffindor class.
His younger housemates blinked at him in outright astonishment, and Harry made sure to emphasise that he was acting as an apprentice to the teachers, not a member of their House while he was in this room. Slytherin even gained five points for doing really well in the short practical test he'd devised to get an idea of their skill level, which was about the same as the first years. Umbridge hadn't done them any favours by insisting that they learn theory only.
Once that lesson was over, Harry hurried to the dungeons for double Defence Against the Dark Arts, his first lesson with the new teacher. This was only his second lesson with his House, and no one had spotted the small badge that he wore pinned in the folds of his robes. He wasn't sure he wanted to advertise his apprenticeship just yet, especially after Ron and Hermione's reaction. Neville had an empty seat next to him again and Harry slid into it with a grin for his friend.
Heggerty was an abrupt teacher that barked instructions at them in short sentences. They had a short test first - to gauge their knowledge - followed by a duel. The test wasn't that hard, and Harry grinned when Neville finished not long after him. The other teen usually took longer on tests because he wasn't really the scholarly type, despite his long hours of study and concentration.
"We'll duel House to House, to make things interesting," Heggerty barked when the tests were returned, "Malfoy - Potter, you're up first."
Harry nodded and got up, moving up onto the platform that Heggerty had installed along the front of the class and drawing his wand. He dipped his head and shoulders in a short bow to his opponent and they stood back to back waiting for the signal to begin. He took the required steps and whirled to one side, feeling the spell Malfoy had cast before hearing it properly, letting the tickling hex impact on the wall behind him and erecting a shield against the stinging hex that followed.
He sent a binding curse and confusion charm Malfoy's way, deflected one that would make his clothes change, partially hit Malfoy with the hair growing charm and failed to dodge the reductor curse, feeling something crack hard when he hit the wall. He slid to the ground in a painful heap and watched Malfoy stalk over to him.
"Expelliarmus," Malfoy muttered lazily, and turned to smirk at his cheering housemates. Harry launched himself at the blonde, tackling him to the ground and taking both wands away, putting his opponent into a full body bind before slumping back to the ground and cradling his ribs.
"Cheat!" Pansy Parkinson shrieked and Professor Heggerty let off a huge bang with her wand.
"Five points to Gryffindor for demonstrating that a duel isn't over until your opponent is totally neutralised," Heggerty barked in the silence, "Never forget that your opponent doesn't need magic to knock you over, or even kill you. Muggle methods are just as effective as magical ones."
Harry got up with a grunt and staggered over to give Malfoy's wand to his teacher.
"Hospital wing," she snapped and Harry nodded, dragging his bag along the floor as it was too heavy to pick up in his current state. Once outside the classroom the corridor was deserted and he teleported himself and his bag to go see Madam Pomfrey. He had prep after this, and needed to be alert.
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Gryffindor was waiting for him when he got back from second year prep. He was counting on having enough time to dump his bag and wash up a bit, and the sight of his whole house - including the second years he'd just dismissed - waiting for him made him nervous.
"Is it true?" Neville asked. Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen, so Harry guessed that his House hadn't had time to find and ask them. For a moment he thought about playing dumb, but decided not to drag this out any longer than he had to.
"I'm the school's new apprentice," Harry sighed, and was deafened by the roar. He had a split second to wonder why it was that his House chose to express it's approval or disapproval like a lion before he was pulled into a seething mass hug, people slapping his back and shoulders and ruffling his hair. Lavender Brown planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek that had him spluttering and wiping it off and Ginny hugged him so hard he lost his breath for a moment. By the time they'd quietened down it was dinnertime, and the sixth years insisted on escorting him to the Great Hall, sitting around him in a noisy approving group.
Hermione and Ron were sitting together down the end, heads close as they spoke in urgent and hurried tones.
"What's their problem?" Seamus asked with a frown and Harry sighed. He was determined not to let their rejection bring him down, even though they were the closest to family he'd ever have. Ginny didn't mind that he had a new role in school, but then again she wasn't a prefect and he didn't threaten her authority.
"The one time I do something freakish that the House approves of, they don't," he tried to joke, and Neville frowned. Harry shook his head at his friend significantly and was relieved when the subject was dropped. He wasn't going to be the cause of a House rift - he'd had enough controversial things happen to him in his time.
Gryffindor got one or two cautions that dinner time for rowdy behaviour, and Harry did his best to quieten the people around him, not that he wanted to test his new status against his peers.
"I suppose this means we have to leave you out of any pranks now," Dean chuckled as they all headed back upstairs, and Harry laughed.
"Merlin, yes! Don't do that to me!" his reaction was rewarded with plenty of laughter. He was relieved that they let him head up to the dorm, changing into his pyjamas though it was early and climbing into bed with his Transfiguration homework and Arithmancy notes. He couldn't explain why the subject had become so interesting to him, though he had to admit it was helping him understand the spells he was casting a bit better.
With his curtains closed, the sounds floating up from the common room were muffled, and Harry didn't pay much attention when someone entered the dorm about an hour later. He realised after a minute that it was probably Ron, because whoever it was went to Ron's bed and dropped something heavy beside it.
"Bugger," Ron's voice sounded and Harry resisted the urge to offer his help picking whatever it was back up. When he'd gotten up this morning the green linen parcel had been resting on Ron's dresser, obviously dropped there by Hermione on her way out. Harry hoped that Ron would put it away, not liking the reminder of the end of their friendship.
Footsteps dragged up the stairs again, and Neville's voice asked Ron what had happened.
"The strap broke," Ron said sharply, and Harry sighed silently. Ron's bag had been falling apart for a while, but his friend hadn't wanted to ask for a new one, because he liked the one he had. Between the two of them they'd gotten quite good at patching it back together again, using both magic and - on occasion - knots.
"Look, just because you're jealous of Harry, you don't have to take your temper out on us," Neville replied just as sharply, "You know, Seamus asked what was wrong at dinner and he made some stupid joke about the one time the House approves of him you two don't. If you ask me you're a rotten friend, Weasley, if you can only like him when no one else does."
"Hey! What would you know about it!" Ron said hotly, and Harry opened his curtains. Both teens fell silent, and he slipped out of his bed, pulling on his ratty dressing gown.
"Sorry Harry," Neville was bright red, and Harry made himself smile. Neville was just trying to be a good friend, and it wasn't his fault he'd lost track of who was in the room and who wasn't.
"It's fine, Neville," he assured the brunette, "Don't worry about it."
He headed out to the loo, hoping that when he came back they'd have finished their argument. As soon as he was out the door it slammed, and he had a feeling that a pretty strong silencing charm had been stuck on it as well. A glance back at the door showed a faint spidery pattern on it, and Harry frowned, wondering what that was as he headed for the boys loos.
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Harry was exhausted by Friday. Ron had announced that the Quidditch trials would be early Saturday morning, so he'd been sitting up late to get his homework done. Once he'd napped - his nightmares and visions had stayed at about the same level of intensity that they'd been over the summer - he worked on the Arithmancy problems he'd set himself, which were suitably complicated to take his mind off everything else.
To make up for the lack of proper sleep, Harry found that he was eating a good deal more than he had before, but for some reason didn't gain any weight. This was a good thing, because he needed to be light if he was going to be a Seeker for the House team - presuming of course he made it through the tryouts.
His classes had settled down quite well. There were the usual know it alls, and cheeky buggers, but on the whole things went smoothly, and if the marking he'd done on Friday afternoon and night was any indication, they seemed to have gotten the right idea in class time. Snape had also appeared during his marking period to see how he'd marked the Slytherins compared to the Gryffindors, but had been unable to come up with any actual complaints. Not that he didn't make a few anyway.
The Potions Master was still relying on a cane as he walked, and Harry had seen several of the Slytherins glare at their Head of House in a very unfriendly fashion. Harry had heard rumours that there were quite a few incensed parents, unhappy that a 'traitor' was teaching their child, though he didn't think any formal complaints had been made. After all, Snape had betrayed the Death Eaters and a complaint along those lines would not be wise in the current climate. In Potions, he'd actually reprimanded Malfoy's behaviour, much to everyone's surprise and Ron's glee. Harry would have liked to hear what Ron had to say about that, but Ron had yet to speak to him.
Hermione had sought him out on Thursday night as he was heading for the dorms. It was actually easier to get his work done while in bed than in the library or common room. His House had had some time to think about what his new status meant, and either asked him a thousand and one homework questions, or looked faintly uncomfortable when he was nearby. He'd quickly figured out that they didn't want to be caught planning pranks and left them to it, seeking the privacy of his bed and its concealing curtains. He had thought about going to stay in his office to do his homework, but in the end decided not to cut himself off from his House altogether. With the door to his dorm open he could at least hear them, the sound of his fellow students talking and studying made an oddly soothing background noise.
She had fidgeted with her book bag for a long moment, not meeting his eyes, then sighed and leaned over to give him a brief hug before heading for the library. Since then she'd continued to sit with Ron, and Harry had been confused about what it all meant. He smiled at her in the halls and in lessons, but made no move to sit near her or Ron. It wasn't his fault this time, and pushing for an apology or reconciliation wouldn't work. It was their problem and therefore up to them to figure things out.
So, exhausted by Friday, and then up very early on Saturday, because with his luck Ron would be a bigger fanatic than Oliver Wood. Ginny was in the Great Hall when Harry came down to breakfast and he sat next to her silently, munching toast and trying to wake up properly. She was kind enough to wait until he'd finished and they walked out to the pitch together.
Ron was already there, looking over his broom, and Ginny and Harry decided to warm up a bit, jumping on their brooms and taking the quaffle up with them. All the previous team captains had insisted that the whole team practice quaffle handling, so Harry was used to the drill of catch and throw and tackle and block. After a while Ginny took the quaffle down and came back up with the snitch in her fist.
"You game?" she asked and Harry grinned, nodding. He was already feeling more alive than he had since summer started, and Ginny released the snitch while Harry counted aloud to fifty, their eyes fixed on each other to give the golden ball a good chance to get 'lost'. The moment he got to fifty Ginny flew straight at him, trying to knock him off his broom, and he rolled easily, blowing a raspberry as she passed and shifting for a better vantage point. Ginny had been a very aggressive seeker, while Harry preferred to stay out of the action, only interfering to give his team the advantage.
Ginny dogged him, searching the air around them while Harry flew randomly, letting her do the hard work of tracking him and their quarry while he enjoyed the rush of air. She got too close for comfort at one point and Harry sent his broom into a reckless dive, pulling up at the last moment and skimming so low across the pitch that he could have leaned down and touched the grass. He'd felt Ginny pull out before him, not wanting to risk getting ploughed and he grinned, soaring back up into the air and ignoring the gangly form of Ron, who was standing near the Gryffindor changing rooms.
There was a flash of gold in the corner of his eye and Harry leaned forward, his broom surging up into the sky after it. Ginny appeared out of nowhere and Harry threw his weight to the side, sending his broom into a desperate corkscrew manoeuvre to avoid the collision. The snitch changed its course and he skidded across the sky after it, hand outstretched, feeling the flutter of its wings and then the cool metal in the palm of his hand. He whooped in victory and slowed the broom, grinning over at his wind tossed friend.
"Ha!" he told her and she laughed, flying so close that their knees could touch.
"If you could see yourself," she laughed lightly, "You look alive!"
Harry grinned and they landed on the pitch, shouldering their brooms and heading back for the crowd of people that were waiting with Ron.
"Right, so now that we're all here," Ron muttered, "We're looking for two Chasers and a Seeker this year."
Harry grinned and smoothed his hair down as best he could. There would be no favours from his friend, and Harry actually appreciated that. It wouldn't do to have rumours of favouritism going around. Slytherin would be sure to say that he got his place on the team because he was Ron's friend, or the schools apprentice, and if Harry wanted to dispel those comments he needed it to be clear to his House and to any spectator - and there were a few in the stands already, not all of them Gryffindor - that Ron was going to treat him like any other hopeful applicant.
The Chaser trials went first, and Ginny was definitely one of the best flyers there. She had great handling skills, ducked the bludgers well and scored seven of her eight attempts. No one else managed to do that well, Ron was on fire as a goalkeeper, much to Harry's relief.
The Seeker trials were much like the warm up that he'd done with Ginny that morning, only the bludgers were loose and Sloper and Kirke seemed to have gotten their eye in. Their aim was almost lethal, and they had no qualms about picking on Harry to make a point. Despite the fact that four other people were trying for the position, and showing off a lot of fancy flying while they searched for the snitch, Harry found it easy to concentrate on his goal and managed to not only catch the snitch first, but do it a lot quicker than he had against Ginny.
Ron announced that the new team would be posted on the notice board and Harry trouped in with the rest of the crowd, grinning at the jibes that Ginny was tossing his way and throwing a few back of his own. Neville had apparently been in the stands, and came to join them. He complimented them both on their flying, though he seemed to be more impressed with Ginny and Harry eased back amongst the crowd to let his friends talk uninterrupted.
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He made the Quidditch team and it was very interesting to spend an entire two-hour practice with a team captain that wasn't speaking to him at all. Harry knew a lot about the game, and even more about how Ron's mind worked, so the team wasn't at a disadvantage, and they managed to win the first match of the season in grand style.
The months had settled into a routine for Harry, the weekdays going past in one long blur of learning and teaching and practicing and preparation. Saturday was Quidditch and homework day, though Harry's sleeping pattern had not changed for the better, which meant that he was able to get a lot of his homework done at night, followed by self tutoring in Arithmancy. It was the only way he could keep up with the demands of his studies and apprentice duties.
Sundays found Harry in his classroom, feeding his Dark creatures and plants and generally avoiding the common room. He'd never been one for the spotlight, and although he appreciated that his House were proud of him, it got a bit wearing to have them constantly around. Ron and Hermione had always been much quieter in their approval, and Harry missed them desperately. He couldn't sit with them, and hated ignoring them, therefore Sunday mornings were spent in his classroom, tidying and preparing for the next week. It was time alone, something that he paradoxically had too much of and yet not enough.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the slamming of his classroom door and the muffled sobs of a first year from Slytherin. Harry frowned and bit back on a sigh. Mark Mathers was a small, pale dark haired boy with huge blue eyes and narrow birdlike features. He was some kind of cousin to Malfoy, though Harry wasn't sure what the exact connection was, and didn't care either. He could be seen dragging around an overstuffed book bag day in and day out, and had always been very quiet and studious in Harry's class.
"Mark?" Harry asked gently, "What seems to be the problem?"
For a moment it looked as if the startled student wouldn't answer, then tears welled up in his eyes once more and his narrow chest heaved with emotion.
"I'm too stupid to be here!" Mark wept bitterly, "I shoulda been put in Hufflepuff!"
No he shouldn't, Harry mused, Hufflepuff accepted people for who they were and worked hard at their skills. Though Mark was a hard worker, he did tend to judge people on their looks and possessions and was not above scheming to make things work his way.
"I'm sure that's not true, Mark," Harry replied and went to sit on the chair nearest to his huddled student, "It can be a bit overwhelming at first, but you'll soon get used to us."
He winced inwardly at the truly fatuous words coming out of his mouth and then shrugged. He wasn't a speechmaker and never would be no matter what others thought of him. Weak winter sunlight was angling through the windows, and Harry knew that by the time breakfast was over most of the students would have made plans to head out into the sun washed courtyards for snow fights and other such amusements.
"I can't even change a stupid beetle into a button," Mark confessed, pulling himself upright, and wiping his nose on a hanky that was dragged out of a concealed pocket, "And they were laughing at me about it."
Harry sighed and shook his head. He knew just who the boy meant. The younger Ravenclaws had been a little more vindictive this year than he'd thought that House would ever be, and as a result some of the less capable students were suffering. The fact that Mark was so competitive as to be trying a second year spel lin his first, was just another sign of how determined the boy was to be the best, to outdo everyone, even his own house - a very Slytherin ambition.
"I've got some beetles here to feed the Grindylow. You can practice in peace if you like," he offered and Mark nodded tentatively. Harry went to fetch a beetle and opened one of the windows and the classroom door with a wave of his wand, airing the room out. He hated it when the place smelled musty, though that was likely to be because of his Dark creatures. Dobby helped him take care of them, despite the elf being busy with his own duties, which meant that the air never truly reeked.
He sat opposite the boy, wrong way around on a chair and watched as his student jabbed stiffly at the beetle, which of course didn't change at all. He frowned, looking at Marks grip and stance and then shook his head after the third failed attempt.
"Let's try something else," Harry suggested, and took the wand out of Marks hand. He started massaging the wrist he held lightly, encouraging it to loosen and relax.
"In every living thing there is a code that tells it what to be," Harry explained in a quiet voice. His fingers moved over the tense wrist he held, sensing the knots and blocks that seemed to be stopping the magic before it reached the wand. He rubbed and stroked hypnotically, almost able to see each tangle and smoothing it carefully as he spoke, "It tells it to be human or a tree or a beetle. It tells us what colour we are, the shape of our ears, the height we'll grow to, if we're fat or thin, even if we use our left or right hands to hold a wand. When you perform that spell, you're telling the code to change from being a beetle to being a button. You need to keep that in mind when performing the spell."
Harry slipped the wand into Marks fingers, pressing them properly into place. Mark took a deep breath and said the required incantation in a hushed voice. The tears had dried from his eyes, and his face had regained some of its normal colour. Harry could tell that he was much more relaxed, which would only help the spell.
The beetle quivered and then changed into a perfectly round button. Mark whooped and jumped up and Harry grinned at his student, pleased that it had worked the first time.
After that, Sundays found Harry with an ever-growing number of students, from all houses and in the first to fourth years sitting in the Defence classroom doing a wide variety of homework. Harry quickly learned to partner them off so they were tutoring each other, and flitted from group to group, offering a word of encouragement here and there.
He noticed that several times he could tell why a spell was going wrong from the way it looked as it emerged from the wand. That little development had Harry wishing his best friends were speaking to him so he could confide in them about this latest development, but as they weren't he kept it to himself, eventually recognising that his Arithmancy studies were helping him to recognise the spells he was seeing from time to time. It only happened when he was really concentrating hard anyway, like when there were more students in the Sunday group, or when he was especially tired or upset.
The visions from Voldemort continued to plague his sleep, though he rarely saw them overlaying the real world. None of Voldemort's victims were someone that Harry knew or cared for, and while he didn't like the fact that strangers were being hurt, there was little in reality he could do to stop it, something he'd come to realise after a long and torturous thinking session.
That had only emphasised his separation from his best friends. He missed them both like he would a limb, though it was particularly hard with Ron. No pun intended. He shared a room with the redhead, and saw him in classes every day, yet the silence between them might as well have been a wall. He loved the teen with all his soul, yet Ron's blatant interest in Hermione meant he'd never be able to reveal his feelings. With that knowledge it should have been easier to let go of the feelings, but Harry had found that wasn't the case. Perhaps it was the elf magic he used, but he just couldn't stop loving the redhead.
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A/N - I just finished this one, so hopefully the posts will be a bit quicker, but for those who are interested we've got a loooooooooong way to go! (Word count is 67 112, 95 pages typed!!)