The Summer's Secret

by Japhu

For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. [AU post OotP, will be HPSS]

38. Chapter 37 : Making Friends

Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Beta Reader: Nagi

Pairing: HPSS

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and his world and don't make any money with it.

Summary: For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. (will be HPSS)

Category: action/adventure/angst

Feedback: highly appreciated

A/N: Thanks for your reviews./ To Anon: Maybe. ; )

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Chapter 37 – Making Friends

Harry watched with envy when Ron stretched sleepily and turned around with a wide yawn. He could not remember when he had last slept that peacefully.

"Get up, Ron." Harry pulled the pillow out from under his friend's head. "You don't want to oversleep during the weekend." Harry had not much patience this morning for people who felt well and happy – or sleepy.

Harry would have liked nothing more than to fall down onto a soft pillow and to stop thinking, but he could not. His whole body was still tingling in anticipation as if remembering the tremendous power that had flown through its veins, as if it could feel the promise it had borne, what it had tasted so short a time ago to never forget. Harry was frighteningly aware that he had been able to control this amount of magic only by a hairs breadth. He had always thought that Hogwarts had left him weak, but now Harry had to rethink. Not once before had really brought everything of what he felt brimming within him to use. He could not have handled an ounce more or he would have broken like a twig in a storm. It had taken its toll on him.

He felt too overwrought and only slowly did his depleted magic recover its former strength. He would be able to do some small spells and charms, but to defend himself in an attack he was not ready yet; and an attack would come without doubt. Harry concentrated hard to gather his focus, to prepare for Tom and to take on this day like the day before and the day before yesterday. Now, Tom was in no worse shape than he – save that he had no body of his own, of course – Harry grinned tiredly, but he could feel him getting stronger.

Tom was very angry, but also cautious. Tom was more cautious. Harry should have reckoned with that. The captured soul seemed to keep a firm hold on its magic to not release even a sniff of it too early. Harry had felt Tom's surprise when he had … wakened up after being bettered. It had been a good feeling to win for once, even if it was only one battle, if Harry could avoid thinking of the pain and of what would come soon. Tom did no more attacks to annoy, now he would attack to win and kill. Harry shuddered and pulled his robe closer around his overtired body and long since disillusioned mind. With a longing glance towards his bed, Harry followed Ron down into the common room and further towards the great hall when the redhead had pulled over a robe and had flattened his hair half-heartedly.

Breakfast was short for Harry. A piece of toast and a glass of pumpkin juice, more he could not stomach, making himself queasy with worry about what would be his near future. Normally Harry managed to shove those things away into the back of his head, but today there seemed to be only space enough for Tom. Harry still did not like to fret about things he had no possible way to change, and as he did not have a choice but to keep going Harry would do just that, though he was glad to sit down back in the common room and to let wash the talk of his friends over him like a balm, at least until Ron flopped down into the nearest armchair when no one of them seemed to have any plans.

"What are we doing now?" Ron sprawled lazily and with a concentrating frown one would seek for fruitlessly when he did homework, the redhead picked out the last bits of breakfast from his teeth.

"Ron, you have manners like a pig." Hermione sat down the book she had left for breakfast already open on her lap.

The following conversation about the sense of table manners or the lack thereof was nothing Harry was interested in listening to, so with a heavy sigh he stepped in before it got uncomfortable around here and his friends set off to start one of their arguments.

"I need to read up on Herbology. I have an essay due to Monday," Harry explained dryly and in a very bored tone of voice. Sure enough Hermione forgot Ron, her face aghast as she jerked around to Harry.

"That was summer work!" she exclaimed.

"I know." He grinned at the girl. "You'll help me, won't you?"

"I'm not letting you copy my homework, Harry."

"Not even because of the kidnapping?" Both of them ignored Ron's snort.

"Harry! Don't joke about that!" She leaned back in her seat, struggling for control. "And no, not even because of that."

"You're a tough one." Harry sighed theatrically. "It doesn't hurt to try, though. However, if I have to write it on my own I'm getting to it now." All the way up the stairs Harry could hear Ron's muttering about wasting all of their precious weekend inside…studying even.

When Harry got back down with everything remotely related to school shoved into his bag Ron was still twiddling his thumbs obviously not in the mood for homework or anything related to that.

"You're not opposed to reading it once I have finished, are you?" he said with a small smile when he got everything he needed and more out of his bag. Harry nodded gratefully at her when she finally relented. Harry would not be the next Neville in Herbology, but he definitely had a better hold about plants now than before this summer. It was just another thing for Harry to practice his acting skills on.

It was half an hour later and Harry was still writing his essay he had begun during the train ride when Hermione picked up his lesson plan from among the mass of loose parchments and carefully set up books while Ron looked over his list of 'Quidditch Moves for Seekers' as bored as Harry had been sometime ago. Even if Ron would not play that position, everything about Quidditch was better than doing homework. Harry gave him only a fleeting glance before he turned back to Hermione, and of course she had caught on fast to the differences of a normal student's schedule and the one of Harry Potter.

"Why is Potions in brackets?" she frowned at him and Harry mirrored her expression with ease, before shrugging her curiosity off like a too small cloak.

"It's on a somewhat voluntary basis for me." Harry bit the end of his quill and wrote another faulty paragraph down on his parchment. For a minute Hermione let him be and when she just drew a breath to speak Harry elaborated brightly with not a care in the world.

"I didn't make it into the NEWTs class and I wanted to drop it altogether, but Dumbledore made me agree to go the average Potions. He said I should have at least a look into the class before I drop out for real."

"Well, in danger that you don't want to hear it, I think he's right, Harry," she said thoughtfully, and Harry was growing tired of hearing that sentence of her.

"Of course, Hermione." Harry rolled his eyes and changed a look with Ron. "I don't know yet if I'll go to Potions, though. I'd just rather concentrate on my NEWTs classes, you know?" He shrugged and pointed to his not yet half finished essay. "Honestly, I don't really want to go, I suppose though," he closed with a sigh, "that I'm not given a real choice just now." Hermione looked scandalized, but that was just Hermione, so he ignored her in favour of her friendship and the things she would be able to figure out of old books that he might overlook.

"Well, that's enough of sitting around for me." Harry decided after some time, closed his Herbology book with a final snap and rolled up the parchments. "I need to go to the library to look up some plants and gather books about this and that." With that he pulled the parchment out of Ron's hand and put it in his Herbology book, so that he could just read what he would need to accomplish rather sooner than later.

"Why so suddenly?" Hermione blinked suspiciously.

"My backside's getting itchy." Harry grinned, not stopping to pack away everything. "Don't you want to get out for once? I'm not staying holed up in here for the whole day." He glanced at Ron, whose patience was wearing thin. "I bet Ron would die to get a move on."

"Move? Where to?" He pushed himself up restlessly. "What about Quidditch?"

"No, Ron. Harry's essay's not ready yet. We're going to the library. You'd do well to come with us." She said it and pulled the fast-surrendering boy behind her with surprising vigour. Harry followed freely, a fleeting grimace of pain marring his features before his smile was back. Harry was sure now that it would not take days for Tom to recover fully; hopefully Harry recovered just as fast. With a sigh he followed his friends through the hallway, his mind already adjusting and readjusting what he needed to know now, and what he could possibly delay for a later date.

Then Harry looked up and saw the mediwitch, her head bent backwards to look at Snape talking quite animatedly to the git of a Potions Master. Sadly, Harry could not understand a word that was uttered. He could guess, though. Harry clenched his teeth and tried to walk past them without any outward sign that he knew what their topic of conversation would probably be.

When he and his friends passed them both adults glanced at him as if he was something strange, formerly unknown, though Pomfrey nodded once and turned her attention back to Snape, who was apparently thinking he could riddle him out if he just stared long enough. Harry suppressed a smirk and then they had passed the pair of staff. When Harry looked back once they had their heads bent together again.

Harry could hear the bastard's muttering already. How he would go on about how his modification of Pepperup was approved and working well and reliably on all the patients habituating St. Mungos. Harry had no problems to imagine Snape going on about that it must be a Potter thing that this imbecile – Harry sneered at that thought – clearly had to be special. Stupid git. Harry hoped that this potion went terribly wrong; that they would strip him of his Master rang and chase him out of Hogwarts. With a sigh the daydream was lost in an abyss of reality. The potion had worked, even though it did so with noticeable delay. It had helped him, too, or at least it had made difficult decisions easier to decide – not that he would tell that – ever. That man had already enough grease on his head without Harry adding to it.

When they finally reached the library Hermione headed off to find some books for DADA – she had to read up a lot to keep up with that class, at least this was her opinion – and anything else she could get her hands on. With a shrug and a last glance at Ron, who trudged listlessly over to a corner to secure a table for them, Harry was off on his own. At first he made his way to the Herbology section were he pulled out a book that halfway seemed to meet the essay's contents, then he needed to search for a while to find the section about magical bindings and bonding ceremonies.

Glancing swiftly through the hall to see if someone was looking, Harry changed the book about bondings to show only the texts and pictures of the first one when someone else made a long neck to glimpse the contents. The original Herbology book Harry put into the shelf instead of the other one. Then he hurried back to Ron and Hermione and showed it to the girl, a little bit put out at her when she seemed to think he was not really going to work on his essay.

"I'd tell you I need to look up some plants," Harry murmured indignantly and leaned back to open the book at its first page.

An hour later Harry had to admit that this had been a waste of time. As thick and unwieldy as this old thing was it held nothing more but legends and what Harry would have labelled fairy tales in the Muggle world about love and betrayal and always a looming death above one party. It held no facts he could use, but it had been a first try and Harry could not always get lucky. Rubbing his neck to get the stiffness out of it, Harry took a deep breath. It was not yet time for lunch, so Harry opted to give it another try. He only emerged of some odd account of an failed bonding some time later when Ron poked him between his ribs, though if one wanted to believe it to be true that the guy had turned into a dragon after the love of his life rejected the bond because she was in love with another wizard was anybody's guess. Harry tended to be doubtful about anything like that.

Lunch did take even less time for Harry than breakfast, or it would have if not for his friends; one of them shovelling ladle upon ladle onto his own plate, the other shovelling ladles enough to last a year onto Harry's plate, all of it with a sweet smile no boy could come up against, though Harry came near when he picked up his fork to level down his mountain of food under Hermione's watchful eyes.

During the whole meal Ron was short tempered and grumpy and did he not have his food to be occupied with one could come to think that he ignored his friends purposefully. However, he seemed to still have hope when he declined Seamus' invitation to a friendly bit of dungeon creeping to find the entrance to the Slytherin common room on their way back to the library.

Harry was watching Ron in silent amusement. It was clear that the redhead wanted nothing more than to be away from books. Half an hour he managed to keep his mouth close, and then he cleared his throat with a dark look until he was sure to have both of their attention.

"How long do you plan staying here?" Ron grew restless very fast anywhere near the library, especially after he had all but stayed in this silent, dusty place for hours already.

"A bit." Hermione said and Harry nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on the text. "Well," Ron grumbled, "I go with Dean and Seamus."

"Why did you not go with them when they asked you?" Hermione blinked at him, her mind occupied digesting the information she swallowed down in record time.

"Never mind." Ron packed his books and only then did Harry acknowledge his friend.

"Have fun, Ron." The redhead nodded gratefully. It seemed to appease his boiling temper a bit to not be fully ignored by his best friend. Harry watched him leaving the library before he bent down again.

Five minutes later Harry closed his book. "I'll go ask Madam Pince something and then go back to the common room. You're all right?"

"Yes, Harry, of course." She turned a page in the heavy tome she had heaved over to read.

"All right." Shoving the lose parchments into his bag, Harry gathered up the library books and slowly made his way over to Madam Pince, thinking how he wanted to go about her, but Harry really had not much choice. He could not take a year to befriend some old woman and get her to trust and like him. He needed a reason to start talking.

"Ma'am?" Harry looked shyly up to her. She stood slightly upraised behind the counter and wore a forbidding frown. Her eyes were narrowed and fixed on his own as if she was a tiger ready to pounce on its prey. That did not irk Harry.

"I wondered if you could possibly help me, Ma'am." He did not look away from her eyes even once, and though it was not necessary to stare the one you were trying to legilimize to the ground if he could simply hold her gaze it would make the whole thing easier and a lot faster to accomplish with less sources for mistakes.

Thankfully it was not necessary for her to answer him out loud. It would take him years to her to open up to actually talk about her personal life to a student. Because of this Harry was glad that it was enough if she only thought about the right topic when he was gazing into her mind. It would still take some time, because he needed to touch on to as much topics as he possibly could if he wanted to figure out what her weak point was. So he better do it now rather than later when Hermione resurfaced from whatever topic she had herself buried into.

"What do you want, boy?" She stared down at him suspiciously.

Harry blinked indifferently and suppressed a sneer. He did not like people calling him 'boy' any more than when they called him 'freak' or 'imbecile', though he had grown used to all of those unflattering titles years ago.

"I'm … well." She easily intimidated Harry, really. "I just thought you should know that when I wanted to read this one," he held the book up to her with his finger between the pages, "those pages here were ripped out. I don't know who had it last, but … well. I'm sorry to bother you, Ma'am." Harry inclined his head, waiting for her to give them leave.

"That is …" She cleared her throat clearly put out. "I thank you, boy, for bringing this to my knowledge," she said crisply, and her shrivelled face scrunched up irritably.

"It's really no problem, Ma'am." Harry shrugged as if he did not feel right to tell on some fellow student, even if he did not know whom, but he smiled a bit more open now when it was clear that she would not take off his head. "I like reading very much, Ma'am. I would never forgive my friends if they treated a book I lent them this way." He shrugged with a shy smile. "I lived in the Muggle world, you see, and I miss a lot of things. At first books were just a great help to squash the homesickness, but there is so much that I don't know yet and I can't read fast enough to read all the books in this library before I'm ready with school to never return." Harry sighed sadly. "You know what I miss most, Ma'am?" Harry watched her intently, waiting for her reaction. "I miss all those novels that are just like magic in a way because they take one away into another world." Harry did not even stop to breath. "Can you guess what I love most?" Harry was in his element. "The same thing really." He smiled sheepishly before going on about this and that. He told her how he missed having a real family, though his friends were great; how he dreamt of a quiet life away from the hubbub of war. He went on about what he always wanted to do and learn but never did have the time to start or finish. It took some talk active and noisy squabble of third or fourth years behind the shelves to make him stop in his pointless rambling to a woman who looked a bit surprised about being the receiver of such a trip down a student's memory lane.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I got carried away." Harry gazed at her, wide eyed and apologetic, when he realized how much time he was already talking, keeping her from her important work with her … feather duster. Her expression was no less strict, but her eyes showed wonder and Harry had gotten a good deal of information out of her about what she wanted and wished for in her life.

"I just wanted …" Harry pointed to the book in her hand. "I'm sorry if I kept you from your work, Ma'am." With a slight, respectful nod of his head Harry walked off, putting the rest of his books back into the shelves and turned back to Hermione. All the time he could feel the old woman's eyes boring holes into his back.

Behind that nasty and old-fashioned exterior was actually a real person. She had likes and dislikes, same as everyone else. For example, she was not very fond of Snape – a reason that made her likable in Harry's eyes despite her frowning and calling him 'boy' – or of him taking her precious books out of the library. There was nothing Snape had done recently, but according to her somewhat fuzzy memory he had spilled some potion about a really expensive tome as a student when one of his many experimental potions exploded right into his face and her book. It had to be thrown away after this experience in the dungeons because nothing could make the pages readable again. It was just another piece to add to the ammunition he was gathering to throw into Snape's face at the right time. It was nothing heavy, but it could be fun if put into the git's way at the right opportunity.

Legilimency was a very useful tool to have at hand, Harry thought, though he would never use it on another Legilimens like Dumbledore or someone who was adept in Occlumency like Snape. People who knew what to look for could detect it way too easily. Harry shook his head and slid into the chair next to Hermione. He watched her for a moment, but she did not even acknowledge his presence.

"I have enough of books for today," Harry said finally, gazing about the table where Hermione had spread her reference books all over to see what topics he could actually cross out of his list. "I'll go see if I find Ron. They can't be that far gone already."

"Yes, of course, Harry." She gazed at him distractedly. "If you think so." She gripped her quill to write. "I'll stay a bit longer if you don't mind. I need to look up something else." She held her quill, hesitating, and blinked at him. "Tell him that he should keep a better hold of his temper."

"I think you should tell him that for yourself." Harry shook his head with a grin and headed out of the library before Hermione thought differently about him going of again on his own. He needed some time to let his guard down and relax. His resolve was wearing thin. Also, Harry needed to think of something to get Madam Pince her Muggle classic music for a start, or at least he needed her to think that he would get it. It was not a major problem, but it was tricky all the same with Muggle technology not working around magic, and Pince loved classics the way Ron loved the Chudley Cannons. She went to concerts with her niece and even had a small collection of Muggle records at home and uncountable books about the most famous composers, their works and their biographies.

Stepping out of the library, Harry took a relieved breath. One other task was halfway done. Now he should look for his best friend as he had told Hermione he would do. However, Harry did not really go out to find him. He wanted to be alone for once. Tom grew stronger with every minute and Harry could not help but fret the time to come when he was strong enough to let him feel his anger about this unexpected turn of events during the last day. Harry had just stepped out of the castle when a dry branch cracked under someone's foot and he whirled around in surprise, caught unaware.

"Hello." A small voice announced. The girl hugged her doll tightly. She seemed shy now when her emotions were not in frenzy, but she looked up to him, her big eyes full of trust, and Harry could not help but cringe inwardly.

"Well, dove." Harry smiled when she blushed. Last time she had most probably been too occupied to listen how he called her. "How do you like it so far?"

"It's great." She grinned brightly. "I never thought it would be this …" wordlessly she just pointed to the castle. "My parents won't believe half the things I write them."

"Yes, I can imagine." Harry looked her up and down. The robes she wore were dirty. She must have been outside for some time now and more importantly she had obviously been in places where exemplary students kept far away from.

"You're not bored, are you, Dove?"

"No." She held up her doll with an indignant face. "I played with Ginia and showed her the grounds. She knows the castle already. I showed it to her yesterday. We even went up to the astronomy tower."

"And you didn't lose your way?" Harry asked disbelief made obvious in his voice, though his eyes laughed at her enthusiasm.

"Not even once," she said proudly. Then she frowned. "Why'd you want to know if I was bored?"

"Well, you could have come with me then." Harry tilted his head and pointed towards the lake. "I was going to scare the squid a bit."

"I can come with you? Scaring the squid?" The last part seemed doubtful to her, no question wondering how he was going to do something like that.

"Yes, but if you'd rather play with … Ginia?" Harry smiled.

"No. I'll …she can come too, can't she?"

"I wouldn't dare to leave her behind," Harry said seriously, and that decided it. Shyness forgotten, she hopped next to him like some dervish, passed him then, ran back to him to outpace him again. Harry doubted that Professor Sprout, her head of house, could keep up with her longer than a few minutes.

"You're Harry Potter," she said finally when they reached the shore.

"Really?" Harry raised a brow. He laughed out loud when her nose crunched up as she rolled her eyes.

"I mean you're … famous." She tilted her head. "I didn't know before."

Harry looked down to her with an expression of amused serenity. "Does it bother you?"

"No." She frowned and hopped back to his side, hesitating a moment before her curiosity won over. "Are you as strong as they say?"

"Well, I'd think I'm not among the weakest," Harry said enigmatically, and grinned when her frown increased. "Do you need help?"

"No." She shrugged. "I was just wondering." Then she caught sight of the lake and she was gone again. With sparkling eyes she set her doll onto a rock and ran to the water, staring entranced at the glistening surface.

"How come you speak English this well?"

"My grandma spoke dozens different languages. She came from England, though, that's why she was adamant that we learn and use it from early on. She always said you can't always expect people to speak your language if you're travelling through their countries, so you should always have at least a few vocabularies on your list to ask the way and say thank you and things like that."

"Your grandma was a wise woman."

"Yeah. She died a year ago, though."

"Oh." Harry swallowed the well meant but empty 'sorry' that came forward on its own.

"It's all right. She was very old and daddy said it was a peaceful death. We live in her house now. It's really big and old, just outside of London. I wonder what she would have said if she knew I was a witch." She twirled a curl around her finger. "You know, when I first found out that I was a witch everything was just so …"

"Overwhelming?" Harry could remember that time very well.

"Yeah. Sometimes I still can't believe it's real." She grinned at him, but then her eyes grew sad. "I wonder what would have happened if we stayed in the Netherlands. My mom didn't want to come here, you know?"

"Really?" Harry took a flat stone and threw it to give her some time to think. People talked more freely if they didn't feel pressured. Sadly, neither Hermione nor Dumbledore had come to this realization as of yet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nodding to herself.

"We came to England because of daddy's job …" It seemed as if she was struggling with herself. "…And because of aunt Esther." Sinje swallowed with a heavy sigh and watched the next stone Harry threw jumping five times before it sunk down with a plop. In silence they stood at the shore, Harry waiting for her to speak, and the girl pondering if she should.