Chapter 16 – Head Boy

It had slipped Harry's mind that he had to go back to his aunt and uncle's house for his birthday. Dumbledore explained that it was part of his magical protection from Voldemort, although its effects would only last through the summer now that Harry was becoming an adult in the wizarding world. Harry apparated to his room in the Manor, got Hedwig and her cage, and some changes of clothing. Then he apparated to Mrs. Figg's house, where they shared tea and a pleasant talk about cats. When the time approached that he was expected at the Dursleys, he walked over to Privet Drive. Harry found the door locked when he got there. His first year at Hogwarts, Fred and George Weasley had taught him how to pick locks, a skill which had come in handy the very next summer when all his magical things had been locked away, so he pulled out a paperclip he kept in his pocket for just such emergencies. Soon the door was open.

"Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, I'm home!" he called.

'Did I just say that?' thought Harry. This place had never seemed like a real home before, at least not since he had learned that most children were not treated at their homes the way he had been before last year.

"How'd you get in, you thug?" grated Aunt Marge's voice from the parlor. "I locked that door myself."

Harry smiled sweetly at her and said, "Picked the lock, of course."

Harry went upstairs, shaking his head. Being so direct with her actually quieted her for a few minutes. No doubt she would soon be ranting, so he quickly set down his things. Rather than deal with Aunt Marge's drone, Harry immediately headed out to the back yard to do yard work after putting his things away. Aunt Petunia followed him out into the yard saying loudly that she'd better show him exactly what needed to be done, since Vernon was not home yet.

Quietly she grumbled to Harry, "Of course, he's not home. Even he's gotten tired of the old bat. She used to be unpleasant, but being here three weeks already, she's been impossible." Then she said less negatively but with more concern, "We were told you were asked to help train people to fight HIS allies – is it that bad?"

"You've seen the Dark Marks on telly, haven't you?" said Harry and she nodded. "We've been able to stop most of the attacks, so you can imagine how bad it could be."

"But Harry," she whispered again, "Are you that good at it that they ask you to train even the adults?"

Harry shrugged. "They asked me; I do what I can."

"Well, then, should you even be here?"

"It maintains my protection, and that's still critical until I learn what I have to do to meet him."

Then seeing Marge standing in the kitchen door, Petunia shouted at him, "… and see to it that you rake up every bit of the hedge trimmings when you're done. No more of your usual lazy job!" But before she turned away, she winked at him

The variety actually felt pretty good to Harry. He enjoyed doing simple muggle things. After he had finished the hedge, Uncle Vernon came out shouting, "Let's see what kind of a butcher job you've done on the hedges now, boy!" He winked at Harry and pulled open his coat to show Harry a tube wrapped in birthday wrap paper. Harry's eyes widened slightly and he grinned so that Marge wouldn't see. He didn't care if he got anything expensive, but it would be so nice to get something that wasn't stupid. At least this showed the signs of having some thought behind it. After he finished the hedges and the raking, he hurried in to wash up before dinner. He found that the present had been tucked out of Marge's sight behind his pillow. It was marked, "Do not open until July 31." This was getting exciting.

During dinner he smiled vacantly at Aunt Marge as she said all manner of critical things to and about him. He thoughtfully gave her things to criticise him for - chewing with his mouth open, using his napkin as a bib, blowing his nose at the table (on the tablecloth, no less) - and on and on. It became an in-joke for Harry to see if he could make the Dursleys laugh out loud as he did things to rile Marge. Dudley often faked coughing spells to cover laughter.

Finally, Harry got some more salad from the large bowl and then proceeded to use the tongs to reach inside the back of his t-shirt and scratch.

"Nngh!" he groaned, "ever since I started getting these massive, oozing zits on my back, they've been so itchy. Oh – a-a-aah – got that one."

Harry withdrew the tongs as Marge stared at him, mouth wide open, finally silenced. Harry reached to put the tongs back into the salad bowl and Petunia snatched them out of his hand, barely able to contain herself anymore.

"That's quite enough, young man. If you cannot be civilised, then you will retire to your room and work on your summer assignments."

Harry made a show of grouchily removing himself from the table. When he was sure Aunt Marge couldn't see it, he winked at Petunia; she had to bite her lip to keep from losing control.

Harry had already finished his assignments, but needed to research how to counter cheering charms. Not that he expected them to be used in a battle, but he couldn't let Tonks get away with that again. Not surprisingly it was not a topic commonly addressed in defense books. Before Harry knew it, he heard the bonging that announced midnight. His curiosity having grown through the night over what they might give when they were not antagonistic to him, he leapt for his present from the Dursleys. All his magical friends were holding his gifts until he returned to the Manor. Harry pulled open the wrapping paper and found – a cardboard tube. "A cardboard tube!" he said.

He heard Vernon behind him at the door, "Look inside, you silly wizard!" Petunia and Dudley were standing at the door smiling. Apparently Marge was already retired for the night.

Harry poked his finger in the tube and a piece of stiff paper came out. He unrolled it and found a large photograph. It was a muggle photograph, so it didn't move, but it showed Aunt Petunia and his mother in the center facing each other at angles, each holding a baby lovingly toward the camera, and behind each were their respective husbands, with their hands affectionately on their wives' shoulders.

"We didn't have any photos taken together, Harry," said Petunia quietly, "we really weren't very comfortable with their world. However, your grandmother had similar photos of us and your family taken a few months before she died, a year before your parents were killed. We were both so pleased to be able to show Mum that she had grandchildren. The photoshop was able to merge the two together like this."

"We couldn't give you anything valuable, well, of monetary value. Dumbledore always told us that, and most of the time we didn't much feel like it," said Uncle Vernon, "but we thought you might like this."

Harry turned to them with tears streaming down his eyes. "I am amazed that you wanted to combine your photo with my parents' photo: I have never, ever felt so much a part of a family as right now. Thank you so very much."

Harry could not get to sleep right away, even though he knew the morning run would come early. He took out parchment and quill and wrote to Hermione and Ron. He thought a second and addressed the letter to Ginny as well. He told them all about the picture and how it made him feel connected to his parents and grandparents. He realized that he had no pictures of his grandparents, though he had seen the photos on the wall as he grew up. He mentioned in his letter that he needed to ask Aunt Petunia if he could have duplicates made of several of them. When the letter was finished he rolled it up and retrieved Hedwig from her cage.

"Ready for a flight?" he asked and she hooted. "Of course, you are, Hedwig, my beautiful girl. You're always ready for a good flight. This is addressed to Hermione, Ron and Ginny, but I want you to deliver it directly to Ginny. She'll share it with the rest, but that'll let her know I was thinking of her. Oh, now don't be jealous, Hedwig. Nobody can take your place with me." She hooted again and ruffled out her feathers. "Right then," Harry said, "Off you go."

Harry was torn when the alarm went off the next morning. He felt so at home that he wanted to just roll up in the blankets and stay in his comfortable cocoon. But then the thought intruded on him, as it had for more than a year, that if he wanted this and all the other things he valued to survive long, he had to prepare to meet whatever challenges may come. So he got up and ran.

He had felt very good, though, despite the short sleep, as it had been a particularly sound sleep. He ran farther than usual, but took no more time. He was most of the way through his shower, when his scar began to hurt again, and he realized that another attack was imminent. He threw a towel around his waist without even tying it and ran out of the bathroom toward his room, running into Aunt Marge as he did.

"Lowlife," she muttered, "probably just getting to bed." Ripper growled, and then went back to sleep in her arm.

Harry locked his door and grabbed some parchment to write down the locations. Then he tried to call Remus by mirror. He got no response and then he glanced out the window and saw that there had been a full moon, which was only just now, soon after daybreak, setting. So Harry called for Professor Dumbledore, who answered promptly.

"Harry, another attack? Give me the details, then we'll talk."

Harry described everything he knew and Dumbledore put down the mirror for a few minutes while he notified the aurors.

"Squads have been dispatched, Harry. Other than that, how are things? I can see you are keeping fit."

Harry had forgotten that he had come straight from the shower. "Oh sorry about that, Professor," he said, pulling a t-shirt from a drawer and pulling the towel across his lap.

"Nothing to be embarrassed of, Harry. Everything is pretty much the same in that regard from person to person. My only interest would be in your health."

"Of course, Professor. It just seemed odd, once I realized I was undressed."

Dumbledore smiled. "Happy birthday, Harry. It seems like only yesterday that you were born. Of course, at my age, it would seem a short time. And now here you are an adult as the wizarding world reckons things."

"Thank you, Professor. Let me show you what my aunt and uncle gave me." He reached for the picture.

"I hope it wasn't valuable – that's part of the protection."

"It is to me," said Harry. He held up the photograph.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, getting a catch in his throat, "I can see where it would be. But monetary value is our concern, and since it has only sentimental value, they have done well. They have been surprising me, of late."

"Same here, Professor," agreed Harry, "ever since you talked with them two years ago, they've been changing remarkably."

"I'll confess to having given them a potion to make them more receptive to my discussion, but anything I gave them would have worn off within hours. I have no ready explanation for this behavior. Moving on to other things, I'm aware of the training, and I'll assume that you would have told me of any other significant developments, so I'll turn to some business I have at hand. Letters are being prepared. I need to designate Head Boy. It is yours if you would like it."

Harry stared blankly a second and then spoke, "You mean, I could be Head Boy, without having been prefect?"

Dumbledore nodded once.

"Just as my father had been?"

Again Dumbledore nodded once.

"The acknowledged leader of the students."

Once more, Dumbledore nodded once, and then spoke, "It is recognition of the place you have assumed among your peers. All but a very few look up to you and would follow your lead through almost anything. To inspire hundreds of teenagers to get up before 5 a.m. every single day for over a year to go running in the pre-dawn Scottish Highlands cold is quite a feat. And yet they all do it because you do it."

Harry looked down. "And they have done it without me being Head Boy."

"Yes. Does that sadden you?"

"No. It makes me realize that for me being named Head Boy would be kind of hollow, a distraction even. I haven't wanted to admit to myself that I am a leader among the students, not in the sense of telling anyone what to do, but in setting the pace and the example. And they have been brilliant, inspiring me in turn to work even harder, that I may be worthy of the respect they give me. There are others who would fill the role of Head Boy better. I prefer the title Coach – it fits me. I don't need the recognition."

"It might go to Mr. Malfoy."

Harry shuddered. "If that is who you think should have that authority, then I will trust that you have your reasons."

"Right then, Harry. Who would you recommend for Head Boy?"

"Either Ernie McMillan or Ron Weasley. As much as I would like to favor my best friend, I can't say that either would be better or worse in the position."

"Very well, Harry. Mr. McMillan will be Head Boy. You are right in your assessment. Both would be exemplary, but we try not to have Head Boy and Head Girl from the same house, if it can be sensibly avoided."

"Then Hermione …?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"That's wonderful. She deserves it; she's such a wonderful student."

"That she is, but that is not the basis for my choice. She has grown into a true leader as well, from being quite the loner when she arrived at Hogwarts. And I attribute that growth to your influence."

"I thought I was slowing her down by pulling her away from studies."

"If you didn't interfere with her writing ever longer essays, I am afraid I would have a rebellion among the teachers."

"But what if I had accepted?"

"Very few would have criticized selecting the two of you – and I would not alter my decisions based on such opinions."

"May I tell her when I get back to Longbottom Manor?"

"No, but only because if you knew in advance, it would be obvious that I consulted with you before making the selection."

"And to do that would allow people to guess that Head Boy was offered to me and turned down. And that would cheapen it for Ernie."

"Precisely. You are really developing an understanding and empathy for people. I don't think I have ever been more proud of one of my students."

"Thank you, Professor. That's the second priceless gift I've received today."

"But don't let it go to your head, Harry."

Harry smiled, "I won't."