Disclaimer: See first post.
Author's Note: Thank you to the nine people who reviewed. I'm sorry for the wait, but it was because I was writing future scenes for this story, specifically involving Snape.
This is not a Snape is Harry's father story! More of him being a mentor.
The next day found Harry still very sad, but opening the package that Petunia had left. It was four inches tall and was as large as a clothing gift box. As he removed the green gift wrap, he found that the box was just that. He popped the tape that held the box closed and took off the lid, finding several items. One was a midnight blue baby blanket that was decorated with stars in no particular pattern. White lettering spelled out his first name on the bottom right corner. A baby outfit was also in the box, or rather an infant robe. They were a light blue with a white collar and hem. White booties completed the outfit. Obviously, these were the items that he had come in when left at the Dursleys. It was a wonder that these were even still in the Dursley household, but his aunt had probably kept them out of some obligation to Dahlia.
The last item in the box was a black photo album. It was eleven inches by fourteen inches. It was obviously a new album. Opening the cover, he found a small note scrawled on the inside.
Harry,
These are copies of some of the best Evans family photos. It's only right that you have them.
Aunt Petunia
As he flipped thru the pages, he found many photos of Jane and Michael Evans, along with their adopted daughters. One of the photos was the one he had found in the attic. All the photos spanned his mothers' whole childhood and early adulthood. On the first page of the whole album were small individual photos of the three girls, their parents, and their great grandparents. Under each photo were their names and when they were born and when they died. Only Petunia had no death date. He knew the Evans family was small, comprised of 'only child' children. That meant he had no great aunts or uncles that would have meant distant cousins. It meant that there were only nine photos. The four grandparents, the two parents, and the three girls. Still, it was the most he ever knew about his family, even if his mother (or mothers) was adopted into it.
It was slightly depressing, but he couldn't help but continue to look thru the album. It was the nicest thing his aunt had ever done for him. Each photo even included a few words ranging from '3rd grade photo' to 'beach trip' to 'visiting London', along with the date. These were of course common in any photo album that his aunt created, but it was still amazing that she had done the same for him. He also knew that she would never do something like this for him again.
The rest of the day was spent looking over the album over and over again. There were easily two hundred photos that spoke of a happy childhood for the three girls and their parents, along with a few posed photos of his great grandparents.
All of it made him long to know who his father was and who his biological grandparents were. It simply made him desire a way to find out who they were.
When dinner time came, Petunia brought up a dish for him, sitting on his desk chair until he ate the whole thing She had gotten good at making certain he ate one meal all the way thru, though she fed him all three. When she finally took away the dish, Harry put away the album and laid down. Briefly, he wondered how he did on his OWLs and how he would get his school supplies. No doubt he would not be able to go to Diagon Alley once again.
ooOoo
Three more weeks passed at Privet Drive and things were once again normal for the Dursleys. Vernon had regained his temperament after finding his son hoarding candy in his room. No more thank you's sounded out of Dudley's mouth, and Petunia was once again the screeching aunt that Harry had known for almost fifteen full years. No mention was ever made of the gift she had given Harry or of Dahlia. She made certain he ate by saying she wouldn't have him waste food, and that was all that was said on that matter.
Meanwhile, Harry felt himself grow more isolated. The cat still came to collect a message from him, but he never received any himself. Dudley and Vernon ignored him and he did the same. Just as it had been for the whole summer, the only communication he had with anyone (past the 'I am fine' letters) were the forced pleasantries between he and Petunia.
Today seemed as though it would bring a change, and Harry was glad of that feeling. He could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into depression. Last night didn't help any, either. Just as he had done for most of the summer, he once again had nightmares involving Sirius and the Department of Mysteries. Just like every dream he had when recalling that day, something about the whole night changed. This past time held a startlingly real recollection of the events. What was different, though, was instead of him smashing many different objects of the headmaster's, they were all figurines of Sirius in different ways he remembered or imagined him. The last figurine he smashed in the dream was actually one of Sirius with his arm around him as they sat together on a worn couch. Harry could not help but think that the dream was right in that he was the one who destroyed that.
This was why he needed something to happen. He wanted to destroy Voldemort for the part he played in his, Harry's, sorrows, but he felt everything pulling him down, ready to engulf him fully. And when he wasn't thinking about that, he was dwelling on Dahlia, Lily, James, and his unknown father. There was no method available for him to vent. There was no one to speak or write to. It only made him hunger for Hogwarts more. It was not like last year where he just pushed everything away and tried to manage everything on his own. No. He needed someone. He needed Ron and Hermione. He had no one else.
A few hours later, he was proven correct in that a change would come, though it was much smaller than he had hoped for. Mrs. Figg's cat brought him a message. It simply stated that Fred and George Weasley would come to collect him by a portkey that would leave Privet Drive at 10:40 a.m. on September 1st, and would drop them off at King's Cross. It also stated that he should be packed and ready to go the night before, just in case.
Harry could not help but smile slightly at the knowledge of the Weasley twins picking him up. He wondered if that meant they were in the Order now. Thinking of the Order made him frown. He didn't want to think of the group that had kept their secrets and brushed him off so many times last year. They, too, shared some of the blame that led to Sirius's death, even if he held a much larger part.
ooOoo
"Alo there, Harry!"
"How are you, mate?"
Harry opened his eyes to find two blurs with red hair staring down at him. Quickly, he reached over to his bedside table for his glasses before putting them on. Immediately, his vision got better, even though it was a bit blurry still.
"Fred? George? What time is it?"
"Oh, eight in the morning. No worries."
"Oi! Gred! We haven't confirmed his identity yet. Mad Eye would have our heads! We don't know if this really IS Harry Potter! Any twelve year old boy could put on a wig and slap on a scar in an attempt to fool us!"
Harry growled. "I am NOT twelve!" His words were completely ignored, though.
"Right you are, Forge!" Fred turned back to look at Harry and eyed him critically as though doubting that he really was Harry Potter. "So, if you're really Harry Potter, answer me this! What was Oliver Wood's speech that he gave us at your first quidditch match?
"You expect me to remember that?"
"The whole team knows the speech by heart Person-Who-Claims-To-Be-Harry."
Harry rolled his eyes. If there was one thing Fred and George Weasley could do well, it was the ability to poke fun at a potentially serious situation. "Okay, men...and women. This is it..."
"The big one!" said Fred.
"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.
Both twins cracked up, almost ensuring with their laughter that Harry did not need to continue. Their own words had confirmed that the two of them were also who they claimed to be. Still, Harry could not figure out what was so hysterical. Perhaps it was a private joke shared between the two of them. Still, Harry cracked a smile at their jovial attitude. There was no doubt in his mind that the Weasley twins could never fail to cheer him up when he was down. That didn't mean he was over them calling him twelve years old yet.
"What are the two of you doing here so early? The note said 10:40."
"Yes my dear, thick, friend. That is when the portkey leaves this house for King's Cross. It did not say, though, when we would arrive here."
"And we arrived here to take care of some business."
"And to catch up."
"Business? What's there to take care of?"
"Several things. First thing. George, if you would?"
George immediately handed a scroll of parchment over to Harry. "Open it."
Harry immediately did so, but didn't quite know what he was looking at (because of the legal jargon used). All he could recognize was that it had something to do with the twins' joke shop. Still, he took a closer look. "Wait a minute, is this..."
"Part ownership? Yes."
"You're having me own part of your shop? Why? I don't have anything to do with it!"
"You have plenty to do with it! Without you, we would still be tinkering with ideas that we wouldn't be able to fund, nor would we be able to purchase a building for our shop."
"Besides that, when mum heard it was you who gave us the galleons, she demanded we return the whole amount back to you..."
"...but we knew that you would never be able to accept it and would probably throw it straight into the gutter. We realize why you had gotten rid of them in the first place. We came up with a compromise, though."
"You now own ten percent of our shop. It's only a small part, but in a few months it will completely refund your money, and keep making you some."
"It's enough to keep mum happy. All we need is your signature."
"And we're not taking no for an answer."
Harry looked the contract over. He would play little to no part in the shop, except that this was his compensation for being their financial backer. He gave Fred and George a shaky smile. He knew he wouldn't get away with refusing. They had already told him so. "Have you got a quill?"
Fred immediately gave him a big grin and pulled out a huge plum feather quill colored with bright blue, yellow, and orange. "Self inking."
As soon as the parchment was signed, it and the quill were immediately taken from him and hidden in the pockets of Fred's robe. They then, in the most embarrassing way possible, pointed out to Harry that he still had to get out of bed and get dressed. George had even gone out of his way to pick out Harry's outfit, shaking his head at the poor selection of Dudley-hand-me-downs, and proceeded to make moves to dress Harry himself before Harry moved out of his grasp and ran off to the bathroom to change in privacy. When he returned, Fred and George were sitting on his bed, practically taking up the whole space on the narrow bed. Harry sat on the desk chair.
"Obviously there was something else if you wanted to come this early."
"Oh of course!"
It was George who lavishly presented Harry with a sealed Ministry envelope. "Your OWL scores, Sir!"
Harry shakily took them out of George's hand. For a long while, he had been wondering how he had done. As the headmaster prevented him from getting any mail, this had been kept from him as well. He hadn't wondered too much, though, as he had many other thoughts on his mind over the summer. Hastily, he opened them up.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I am pleased to provide you with your OWL scores. Please note, you only get an OWL if you gain an Exceeds Expectations or higher. The average scores of your practical and theoretical have not been provided here, but your professors have them.
Sincerely,
The School Board
Ministry of Magic
... ... ... ... ... ... ...Practical... Theoretical
Astronomy ... ... ... A... ... ... ... ... A
C.o.M.C. ... ... ... ... E... ... ... ... ... E
Charms... ... ... ... ...O... ... ... ... ...E
D.A.D.A. ... ... O (A-NEWT)... ... ...E
Divination ... ... ... ... P ... ... ... ... A
Herbology... ... ... ...E... ... ... ... ...A
History of Magic... n/a ... ... ... ... P
Potions ... ... ... ... ... E ... ... ... ... E
Transfiguration ... E... ... ... ... ...A
Please note the 'A-NEWT' is a grade for NEWT level, but does not count towards your official scores. It was your corporeal patronus that has enabled you to gain this honorary NEWT.
In looking his grades over, he couldn't help but be pleased. He had gotten ten OWL's. He had also done much better than expected. He wasn't surprised by the theoretical E in D.A.D.A., especially as all his professors had not done a good job of teaching him, and when he had learned on his own, he was more concerned with getting the spells and having them work than anything else. He was surprised, though, that they gave him a NEWT score. Disappointment began to settle in, though, as he reread his potions scores. He wouldn't be able to become an auror, and there was no way that Snape would concede in allowing him to enter his class. Even if he did, Snape would only rub it in his face, and announce to the whole class, and thus the school, that he was provided with special treatment. No, it definitely was a big disappointment. He would not even allow himself into the class if it meant special treatment. Harry allowed his body to slump in his chair.
"Oi, mate, what's wrong? You didn't fail everything, did you?"
"Hm? No. I just didn't do well enough in potions. I really needed to score well. I had thought of becoming an auror."
"Independent study, mate."
Harry sat up straighter and looked intently at George. "What?"
"I dare say, Fred, our dear friend might be going a tad deaf!"
"Look, what did you mean by independent study?"
Fred looked a bit disappointed that he lost his chance to comment because of Harry quickly clarifying his words, but then looked cheerful again. "Not everyone passes a teacher's requirements to get access into NEWT classes. We didn't."
"We actually had to petition for one extra class. Everyone is required to take at least four classes at NEWT level. It's the absolute minimum, though they recommend at least five. Our scores were good enough for Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense."
"You barely need to achieve an Acceptable to get into Defense. We only did horribly because we've had horrible teachers, especially Lockhart and Duran. Duran was there before Quirrell. Be glad you never had him."
"Two of our OWLs came from potions, though, but they were Exceeds Expectations for the practical and Outstanding for the theory. He refused to let us into the class, though. We had to petition with the school board for permission with independent study, and we got it. They almost always grant permission if you have Exceeds Expectations."
"So that's what you can do. We'll provide you with our study notes and what we know to have been on past NEWT exams."
"If you get permission, we'll even make time to come to the school and tutor you in what we know."
"Unless you're really daft, you should know that we have to know potions really well for our products. We actually have to take a competency exam within the next six months for us to keep going with our shop and products."
"But there's no doubt we'll pass. We've already taken practice exams with great success."
Harry gave a small smile. "I can do that?"
"Sure. I'm certain old McGonagall will take care of it, if you ask her. I'm almost certain they would not refuse."
"I have to think about it."
"Don't give it too long. Potions is just as difficult to study on your own as it is with Snape teaching. Well, maybe a little easier."
"Anyhow, Harry, we're going to pick up your supplies for school and drop them off tomorrow morning. That means specifically... books."
"As boring as they are," interrupted Fred.
"Professor McGonagall said I need at least five NEWTs with Exceeds Expectations to get into the auror program. She said D.A.D.A., Potions, and Transfiguration were a must. Charms also."
"Well then, pick one more class. You can let the Professor know you want to take each of those... well, independent study for potions."
"We recommend Herbology."
"It will help in your potions studies."
Harry nodded his head before allowing it to rest in his arms on his desk. "Do you think Hagrid would mind if I didn't take his class?"
"'Course not! Just as long as you explain it to him! If you decide not to do potions, then you can request to enter his class. There's no doubt that Hagrid would let you in. Just be sure to let him know in the beginning that you're thinking of independent study and you really don't know how much time that will take up. He'll completely understand."
"Thanks." He closed his eyes and allowed the feeling of the presence of people who liked him to wash over him. So far today, he'd spoken more than he had in the whole summer combined. He really didn't want to talk anymore. He'd gotten too used to his own silence.
"Are you alright there, Harry?" George asked as he noticed Harry's unguarded expression. Seemingly, they were just taking notice of the dark circles under his eyes and his drawn expression.
"Hmm?" He pulled himself out of his near dangerous thought. "Oh, yes, I suppose."
"You suppose?" George looked worriedly over to Fred. Both seemed to suddenly realize just how dangerous Harry's thoughts could be.
"Mate..."
"...have you been alright this past summer?"
"We know that the Dursleys are horrid and unsympathetic."
"And we know that you haven't been able to communicate with those who do like you."
"Have you been able to deal with...you know."
Harry sat back up and looked directly at the twins. "What do you think?"
"I think, mate, that this house and the Dursleys are a sink pit and you've been sinking for two and a half months."
"Yeah." Harry began to hug himself for comfort. "Can we not talk anymore? Or, at least, talk about something else?"
"Sure Harry..."
"Just as long as you talk to someone."
"Anyone."
Harry absently nodded his head thinking about how heavy his head and body felt at the moment, pushing away any thoughts that didn't have to do with the twins' presence, at the moment, away.
"Hey. Sit on the bed with us. That chair has got to be the most uncomfortable one I've ever seen."
Obediently, Harry made his way over as they made a place between them.
As per Harry's request, they changed the subject. "Now that we know what courses you want to take, do you know of any other books that you might like?"
"We might as well get them while we're at the book shop."
"Occlumency, if you can find it...or meditation, maybe. Nothing's been going on this summer, but..." Harry dwelled on his words for a few moments. Though Voldemort wasn't bothering him this summer with visions, he felt he owed it to Sirius to not lead anyone else into trouble.
"Better safe than sorry."
"We understand."
Anything else?"
Briefly, Harry entertained the thought of them getting him a book on adoption charms, then disregarded it. He didn't want them to know anything about it yet. While they were very capable of being discreet when needed, he didn't know how faithful they were to the Order. He didn't even know if they had joined yet. "Are you?"
"Are we what, mate? I think you've lost Fred and I."
"Sorry. Are you part of the 'old crowd'?"
"Oh."
"That."
"Sort of. We're sworn in and everything..."
"...but we're only in about knee deep. Our shop is used as a floo connection to Diagon Alley..."
"...and as a place to station an occasional lookout."
"We've even pulled a few shifts in monitoring this house."
"Which is right dull, what, with you staying indoors All. The. Time!"
"That's about it, though. Well, excepting that we're your escorts on this fine day."
"Oh...thanks."
"Not a problem, mate."
"Besides, old Dumbledore know our first priorities and loyalties stand with you."
"That is to say..."
"...if you compare them with the Order."
Harry gave them a half smile. On another day, perhaps, he would feel indignant about thir whole notion of him being first. He never wanted that, only to be included, but seeing as how they were the first friendly faces since June, it was an awefully nice thought.
"So!"
"Anything else that you would like to discuss?"
"Oh! How about some of our newest products!"
I tried to make the OWL scores as realistic as possible, according to what McGonnagall had said in career counciling.
Also, this chapter is the longest I've written, simply because I couldn't break it apart without the first part being super short.
