PART SIX: BRIGHTER DAYS
It was several weeks later that he received the Owl bearing a note from the Dursleys. He read it a few dozen times over the course of the day, still unable to process the words.
… love you and hope that your school year is going well…
… I know it's still early, Harry, but Vernon and I are just so excited at the prospect of another Christmas as a family… with our whole family! And we wanted to ask you before you made plans with your little friends…
… a nice holiday with our ickle Harrykins…
… Dudley's so excited. He saw the perfect present for you yesterday, but I can't tell you, so don't ask!…
He closed his eyes and shook his head. Funny, how this still astonished him even after the anomalous behavior this summer. He'd somehow expected the Dursleys' goodwill to evaporate the moment he returned to Hogwarts.
Well, no. Honestly, this summer he'd expected it to have vanished during the night every time he woke up. Or during the day every time he emerged from his room for meals. Or during the course of the movie every time the Dursleys had taken him on a family outing.
He stared at the letter. He simply couldn't get his head around to the fact that his family wanted him home for Christmas. That was what happened with normal families, normal people. Not him. Never him.
It was so extraordinary that he barely noticed the white noise of Draco's insults in the background during Potions.
"So, Potter, you're practically living with Filch now, aren't you? How many months of detention does that make?" Draco called across the room.
Harry ignored Malfoy successfully until Snape retreated in the middle of the class to retrieve ingredients from the supply cupboard. Immediately, a pale hand shot forward and snatched the letter right off his desk.
"What's this?" Draco whispered maliciously.
"Give that back!" Harry ordered. He made a leap for Malfoy, only to run into Crabbe's solid bulk.
Behind him, the Gryffindors started to attention. A gleeful smile stretched across Draco's lips.
"Aw, ickle Harrykins got a widdle wedder from his fam-wy!" Draco said in an obnoxious baby-voice that made Harry's cheeks flame. Ron was lunging forward now, held off by Goyle.
"MALFOY--" Harry bellowed.
"'We already miss our little Harry…'" Malfoy read tauntingly. "How precious! 'We hope they're feeding you well. Your uncle will teach them a lesson if they're not. Our little tyke's a growing boy…'"
The Slytherins laughed maliciously, but Harry suddenly found himself frozen, in the sheer unreality of the situation.
He'd somehow always expected the Dursleys to be a weak point, something Draco and his other enemies might sniff out, but he'd always imagined them finding out that the Dursleys hated him. He'd never expected over-affection of Dudleyish proportions to render him an object of derision.
"And what about this: 'We know our precious little wizard needs--'" Draco crowed.
"That will be ENOUGH, Mr. Malfoy!" Snape bellowed from the front of the room, looking menacing even with his arms filled with sacks of ingredients.
Draco thrust the letter quickly back onto Harry's desk, and shot Snape a look of betrayal.
Harry grasped the letter protectively, turning the white envelope over and over in his hand. An odd feeling welled up inside him. He ignored the grumbling of his friends behind him, promising reprisals against Draco and his cronies. All he could think about was what might have happened a year ago if Draco had read a letter from the Dursleys…
They'd never bothered to write him. But if they had… well, the sheer venom in them would be enough to send the Slytherins into raptures. It was funny how things had changed. This position, the one he never had the chance to experience before... They were laughing at him now, for being a spoiled, overindulged brat, babied by his relatives, but…
Somehow that just didn't hurt as much as the alternative. And the alternative had been his only possibility until now.
A strange warmth filled him. Odd, how Draco taunting him over the affection from the Dursleys could finally make that affection seem real to him.
Every instinct screamed against trusting this, against relying upon this. He swore consciously that he would write a Dursleys a terse 'thanks, but no thanks' letter.
But despite himself, Harry found himself in detention with Filch that night, daydreaming about Christmas with the Dursleys… A Christmas with a family that loved him.
"I'm told your performance has improved in your classes," Snape noted formally, holding Harry back at the end of an Occlumency session several weeks later.
Harry rubbed his aching scar. "Yeah." He attempted to twist from Snape's grip, but Snape's fingers tightened on his shoulder.
"You are still failing potions, Mr. Potter."
Harry looked up at him sharply. Failing? He'd known his grades weren't the best, but he hadn't realized it had reached that point.
"Oh."
Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "I presume you wish to do something about it?"
Harry was tempted to yell at him that he hadn't even wanted to be in Snape's stupid potions class, but he hesitated, considering the consequences. He still hated potions, but the last couple of weeks had been better than the first two… Much better. He was… well, he wouldn't say happy, because he still felt miserable every time he thought of Sirius, which was, well, a lot. But he didn't feel like he'd rather stay in bed than go on with his day. He no longer wished that he'd never gone to Hogwarts.
And he wasn't entirely certain he wanted to throw away the future anymore. An auror…
"I… Is there anything I can do about it? Sir?" Harry found himself asking, a little surprised at how reasonable his tone was.
A curious, almost satisfied look glinted in Snape's eyes briefly, before his professor released him and circled around the back of his desk. "I understand your numerous detentions have nearly been served."
Harry felt a flare of irritation. Yeah, the numerous detentions Snape had assigned him!-- but he held his temper. "Yes, sir."
"Very well then. You will shortly be having extra free time." Snape glanced down at a parchment-- a schedule of some sort, Harry thought-- and then coolly back up at Harry. "I will be brewing new stocks for the Hospital Wing on Monday and Wednesday evenings. If you remain quiet, and curtail your tendency to deface my classroom with your explosive concoctions, I will allow you the opportunity to make up for your… pitiful performance earlier this term."
Harry stared at him. He couldn't believe Snape was giving him this chance.
Snape apparently was annoyed by Harry's shock. "Don't give me that look, Potter. You underestimate the persistence of your Head of House."
"Yes, sir," Harry said, still a bit awed.
"Now get out of my sight," Snape said curtly.
Even with the brusque parting words, Snape hadn't been quite his irascible self. Harry hurried out of the classroom, wondering if his luck was changing for the better after all.
Later that night, shuffling through his homework parchments, he stumbled upon the Dursleys' letter again.
Harry stared at it, launching into that familiar internal debate.
Tonight, though, a daring impulse overtook him. He grabbed his quill and wrote out the words before he even gave much thought to what he wanted to say.
I'd be happy to come. I'll see you at Christmas. -- Harry
TBC
